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you-know-honey · 2 months

Text

Tower of Cups

Copia x Fem!reader

3/4

Summary: The most romantic acts are the most painful goodbyes

Word Acount: 6615

🚩Mention of saints of the Catholic Church, read at your own risk. This was not intended to offend anyone, remember that it is only fiction.🚩

For de Reader: English is not my first language, mercy please. Sorry for the delay but as you know if it is not perfect I will not publish it, I just want to offer you quality.

You couldn't stop looking at yourself in the mirror, no matter how much effort the make-up artists had put into giving you a happy face, something inside you had simply changed and you missed it, there was a strange emotion in your chest, a pressure that weighed like a curse, it stole your breath, slowed down your heartbeat and if you concentrated too much on it the world would end up being a dirty echo in the back of your mind. You had kept yourself as busy as you could, you had been involved in every little detail of the runway show and you could bet that the whole team secretly hated you, but you couldn't afford to be alone or idle for even a second. In fact that was the reason you accepted the interview.

You had never been in front of a camera before, you liked how it felt just watching the world admire your work without giving them a face to put on the covers.

"We go in in ten seconds ¿are you ready Miss?" A boy rushed into your dressing room, he looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Sure." Your voice came out barely a whisper as you stood up and walked to the main course.

You heard a few whispers when they saw you, and for your own sake you wanted to think it was only because of your dress, it was the only thing that had made you smile that day. A beautiful navy blue evening gown and yet it wasn't enough to make you wish you were there instead of your bed.

"Hello everyone! The Fame Factor is here now. My name is Jacob Lamar and tonight I'm not alone, I'm well accompanied by this glamorous jewel, T/N!" A bunch of applause from the audience broke through like a crushing wave.

The spotlights had blocked you from seeing all those people, you smiled as you had taught yourself in front of the mirror and acted as calm as you could. There were more people than usual at that kind of show.

"Hello everyone" you greeted shyly "Thank you for inviting me Jacob, it's a pleasure to be here." In fact it was quite the opposite, you felt a little bad for lying so blatantly but it's not like the host was being honest either, it was the same basic crap he would tell any of his guests.

You shook her hand, it was damp with sweat and reeked of garlic bread, you tried to disguise a grimace of disgust as you tried to wipe your hand on the uncomfortable leather couch.

"Honey, I hear you're back in the fashion world and I'm not the only one here wondering when we get to see your art in all its glory?" The petname made you uncomfortable, all of him made you uncomfortable, there was something in his eyes, like he was trying to hide something.

"In fact, my new runway show will be ready soon. I've missed being back in the ring."

"Tell us why now? All this time you've been anonymous, what motivated you to come out of the shadows?" The man settled back in his seat, leaning toward you as he fiddled with his hands.

"I think it was time, I mean, I wanted everyone to know who was behind all those looks. I just deserved it."

"And you're right honey, I can't wait to see the new designs, I'm willing to spend every penny of my children's inheritance for just one piece from your collection, beauty." He laughed and the audience laughed with him, you liked how all that praise felt to your ego, you weren't silly, you knew it was banal and not very honest but you liked it and it mattered.

"Thank you Jacob. You know this industry, if you don't make an impact you go down, my best work will be exposed there. I promise you won't be the only one." You played with your hands, trying to keep up with the excited interviewer.

"There are rumors that you bought an abandoned church on the outskirts, is that true?" I questioned with a knowing, mischievous look.

"Yes, it is" the audience echoed in amazement at your words "It was the right place, besides it was in decay, you could say I saved it" In fact that place had given more trouble than likes, repairing it was a dry hit to your pocket and dealing with the pesky villagers was a blow to your patience, but you had coped with that and now it was ready.

"Will you model any parts?" She asked getting up from her seat and approaching in front of you "You can't keep hiding that beautiful body Will someone please focus on her! Look at that sexy body ¡God! juicy indeed." Before you knew it he had wrapped his arms around you like an octopus, sticking against your body and sliding his hands up to the opening of your dress, letting your legs and thighs show off for the cameras, thankfully there were no glimpses of your underwear.

"What wrong with you…?" You couldn't even complain when he pushed you back onto the couch with admirable stealth and opened his mouth again.

You could still feel his hands on your body, you were stunned, this wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to touch you. He wasn't even supposed to talk about your body, you couldn't fully process what had happened. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a small disturbance in the audience, from the little that the spotlights let you see a trio of girls had gotten out of their seats and were being ushered back in by the security guards.

"Oh my god, or should I say oh my satan?" The audience laughed as if that had even been a decent joke, as if what happened just seconds ago was part of the show and not something totally inappropriate. "Honey, I know you hate this question, but my job is to keep the audience happy. Tell us, what happened?"

"What?" You said, somewhat lost in the conversation.

"Yes, tell us. Tell us your dirty secrets." The interviewer's face formed a huge smile, a dirty smile. "I know breakups are painful, aren't they?" The audience chorused a loud agreement. "Don't you feel humiliated, you giving everything and him giving the prize to someone else?" A raised eyebrow made clear the lewd and uncomfortable reference.

"I don't…no I…I don't have any relationship." You tried to hide your confusion but the words were absorbed by a tornado of thoughts that went nowhere.

"Don't be shy Y/N, did you really see that guy?" That offended you, Copia wasn't a 'dude' you wanted to contradict him but you couldn't, that relationship that you were suffering from today and the memory of it constantly hurt you was supposed to have never existed. "Although you know what they say guys, a good manhood keeps the girls' mouths busy." He gave the camera a wink while your mind was still trying to decide if that trash was just a disgusting guy.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" you said through your teeth, your hands formed fists swirling the dress, holding back the urge to knock out a couple of teeth from that confident and stupid fake smile.

"Oh… then this must be very humiliating for the old man, bring in the guest!" That stupid cheap show music resounded through the room and she entered from one of the doors. "Come honey, join us." Once again, and clearly without your permission, she dragged you into a trio of high chairs, making you feel tiny and self-conscious.

You tried to act as little awkward as possible, but seeing her face definitely broke something inside you. Your heart suffered a small attack, a sharp pain that ran through your soul until all the air was taken from your body, freezing you in place with your hands on your chest to confirm that it was still beating, holding yourself up only with the faith that your legs would give way to us, you couldn't even feel them at this point.

"Please anything but this…" you murmured bewildered.

"Welcome Mary!" The applause broke out and there she was, sitting in front of you.

It was her, there was no doubt, those eyes and that smile that once again mocked you. It was impossible for you to forget her face, she was wearing another dress as short as the one you had seen her wear when she was practically on top of the one who had been the love of your life, the shame you had seen when you discovered them had vanished from her face, now she looked at you over her sunglasses as if you were a candy that she would destroy in her dirty mouth.

A cold air ran through you from toe to toe and your stomach turned into a black hole that swallows all the words in your mind.

"Hello Y/N, it's nice to see you again." Her mouth spilled venom in the form of kindness.

All the words entered your ears in a distant echo, your hands approached your stomach praying that the nerves would not make you spill your insides on the floor.

"This beauty has some juicy gossip for us, right sweetheart?" The interviewer seems delighted with Mary, he looks her up and down and savors her with his gaze, although this matters little to her as she keeps her gaze directly on you, you know that everything she will say is only for you.

"That's right Jacob. God! I'm so lucky to be here with you and with her, Y/N I'm a big fan of what you've managed to achieve… seriously… everything." His hand rushes to his face trying to wipe away an obvious fake tear.

"Oh come on girl! Tell us already and exaggerate." the interviewer squeals with excitement and with him the audience.

You automatically shake your head in a hidden way, hoping that she will pity you even a little, but she only lets out a mocking laugh and starts talking.

"Oh, you see Jacob. It was that amazing party a few months ago, everyone was there, you know? The music blasting, the lights up, the drinks flowing non-stop. And there he was, Copia I think his name is, looking so handsome and charming as ever. I couldn't resist." He winked at the camera with such confidence that you wondered if he wasn't even into entertainment. "So, with my best smile and these girls," he said in a flirtatious tone and shook his shoulders making his boobs bounce, making his charms very clear, "I approached him. I told him that he looked amazing that night and that I was honestly dying to hang out. He smiled, so innocent, can you believe it? It was like he was waiting for someone to tell him."

You couldn't take everything she was saying, how she added detail after detail to prolong your pain, you didn't want to know more, if you be honest with what you saw that night was more than enough.

But she didn't stop there "After too many drinks and his stupid attempt at making small talk, I mean man you're in a bar who cares about the lore of an old video game? I moved closer. I touched his arm, I whispered in his ear. I told him I'd always felt something special between us, he tried to deny it but no one says no to me. And you know what, in the end, he didn't pull away. In fact, he leaned closer can you believe it?" The audience murmured amongst themselves, surprised by her words. "We went into private, away from prying eyes. The tension was palpable, guys. We were just a breath away from… you know, having fun. But right then, she interrupted us. What a bummer! But, let me tell you, he didn't resist. He was completely under my spell, he sighed like a complete novice, seriously, he was a fucking submissive."

She laughed loudly, you felt nauseous, you knew you should be upset and you were but it hurt you more than making fun of the man you loved and yes, although it wasn't easy for you to accept, you still loved Copia. And seeing her degrade him like that made you sick.

"For God's sake Mary! Little rascal, let it all out." There was a kind of complicity between the duo, and it was clear to you, the only person who had been so innocent as not to imagine that this was always the plan from the beginning was you.

"Now, I'm not saying anything happened, but we all know what could have happened if we hadn't been interrupted. Y/N you should thank me, actually, because now you know that your boyfriend isn't as faithful as you thought. It was a help between friends" she tried to reach out for your support but definitely didn't find it "And well, I had my little moment of fun. Next time I'll take it all the way. How hard can it be? I mean look at me."

The huge screen lit up behind you, earning a sigh from you as the image flashed before your eyes.

The photo wasn't very good quality, but the image was clear. The girl had taken a photo while basically shoving her tongue down Copia's throat. It was an obscene image where both of them showed a lot of skin, it was like reliving that horrible moment over and over again without stopping. Only for the satisfaction of an audience that enjoyed the pain of others.

By the time the screen went black again, it was too late, the damage was already done. Your shaking hands clench into fists against your chest, as if you were trying to contain an internal pain that threatens to overflow. You breathe quickly, barely able to take a breath, while your dilated eyes stare at the screen, but without really seeing it, hearing its words over and over again in your mind.

"Are you ashamed that you trusted someone so famous and were deceived Y/N? It must be very humiliating…"

Cold sweat covered your forehead and hair, sticking to your damp skin, you move with every involuntary spasm of your body. Your heart beats hard, as if it were trying to escape from your chest, and each beat resonates in your ears, drowning out the sounds of the interviewer and the outside world. Your legs seem weak, unable to hold you up, they wobble, and end up giving way, hitting the floor unable to get up. An invisible knot tightens your throat, making every attempt to swallow painful and impossible. Your thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of pain and anxiety unable to find an outlet or a moment of calm. You felt trapped in shock, as if the giant screen in front of you was an insurmountable barrier, amplifying your anxiety and reflecting your most vulnerable self in front of hundreds of people. Your gaze glazed over, tears beginning to pool in your eyes, and a feeling of suffocation washed over you. Everything feels unreal, distant, like you're trapped in a nightmare you can't wake up from. In the midst of it all you catch sight of the cruel smirk of satisfaction from the interviewer and the girl, they sneer and puff out their chests with pride at leaving you vulnerable and exposing your heart to the world, while you desperately struggle to regain control over your mind and body.

"I'll kill her!" a voice rose above the rest. "NO ONE is going to humiliate her like that."

The security guards did their best to keep three girls in their seats, but their strength was impressive. The voice was familiar, and between tears and the annoying lights of the set you could see a white mane that was shaking roughly between a long blonde hair with pastel pink streaks and a shiny black hair that led a violent revolt against the guards until the girls left they out of the way. They jumped the security fence and advanced with a firm step to the set, the rest of the audience tied themselves to their seats as if they were living an iconic moment.

"Cumulus..?" you muttered, extending your trembling hand as a plea for help.

"Who are you guys?! Someone stop these bitches now!" The presenter shouted, standing in front of Mary as if he were trying to protect her.

You clearly knew it was a mistake when Cirrus' hand hit his throat and left him begging for air, kneeling on the ground and not letting go she kicked him until he was nothing more than a baby crying for mercy. You came back to yourself when his cries were as loud as a newborn's.

"Come help me!" Aurora shouted to Cirrus "We have to get her out of here." Aurora leaned towards you, taking your hand "I'm here, come on Y/N we have to go, please get up."

"Girls..? What…what are you doing here..?" You spoke in a sigh as you dizzily dropped your head on Aurora's shoulder.

"We girls support other girls. We're not going to let that damn bitch humiliate our girl." The three of them gave you a smile so sweet it was like a warm hug on your aching heart.

"Get her out of here! I'll take care of this bitch…" Cumulus winked at you and as if he were prey he walked towards Mary who was trying to crawl away and soon began to cry when she discovered that there was no escape.

Cirrus carried you on one shoulder and Aurora on the other, they basically dragged you out as carefully as possible. No one got in the way, everyone was still in shock from everything that had happened and if we're honest they don't get paid enough to intervene.

"You had to open your disgusting mouth…" Cumulus' heel crashed into Mary's face, bathing the sleep with blood and a couple of teeth "I warn you bitch that this…" The ghoulette took one of the chairs and with superhuman strength tore off one of its iron legs "It's going to hurt you a lot."

You weren't really aware of what was happening, but you knew you were safe now, that your girls hadn't left you, that they had come for you to save your skin, your true friends…

"We'll take you home…" Aurora whispered before a strong lavender scent filled your nose.

The only thing you could hear before you fainted was Mary's desperate screams, that put a satisfied smile on your face.

"Girls, I don't want to be indiscreet, but what the hell happened? There are patrol cars roaming all over the city." Rain drove carefully through the streets, smiling at each patrol car that looked at him suspiciously.

The girls were hidden in the backseat, whispering to each other proudly. They weren't supposed to be there, and they weren't supposed to have been at that stupid show. But everyone had hidden the truth from them and unlike the rest, they wouldn't sit back and do nothing.

You had just disappeared from one day to the next, without saying goodbye or giving a reason for it, it broke their hearts. But given everyone's discomfort when talking about you, they understood that something had happened and they didn't rest until they made Swiss spill everything he knew. None of they could believe it and for days it was a total shock. So when they announced your presence on The Fame Factor they didn't hesitate to spend their savings and steal some coins from inside the couches to get the tickets and go see you, they missed their favorite human. You had made their capes as a special gift that made them stand out on stage, you always highlighted how important they were on stage even though not many Sister of Sin did, they felt at home with you, your workshop was their little rabbit hole for girls' nights. They had an eternal debt to you.

"Y/N was invited to that silly show you watch with Phantom" Cirrus clarified while looking surreptitiously out the window, as they drove away from the city.

"Hey! Don't talk about talent shows like that. Pulling 91 pickles out of your body is a very respectable talent." Rain had quite a few guilty pleasures when it came to entertainment.

"What? No, not that one!" Cirrus shook his head.

"The hidden camera one?" he asked again.

"NO! I can't believe you're watching something like that." Cumulus exclaimed, settling into the backseat. "The stupid show where you interview celebrities."

"Oh!" he exclaimed happily until he remembered that this show was basically about directly or indirectly humiliating the guests and that it was only on because people like to see other people's pain. "Oh…"

"Can you believe they invited the girl who made out with Copia?" Cirrus claimed. "She started telling everything in great detail and even bragged about it!"

"I took care of her personally…" Cumulus clarified with his head held high pretending to clean fake dirt from his nails. "It will be a lesson that she and her plastic surgeon won't forget."

"Those are my girls!" Cirrus high-fived each one. She was more than proud of what they had done, nobody hurt their own. "Y/N is okay?"

"I handed her a lavender breeze and we left her in her apartment. She was so helpless… we wanted to stay but she begged us to leave her alone, we couldn't refuse." He felt guilty, Aurora had wanted to stay by your side, you were in a vulnerable moment and at that moment the bad decisions sounded like magnificent ideas.

"She's strong. I know she is…" Rain said it more to himself than to the girls, he wanted to be sure that tomorrow your essence would not have abandoned this earthly plane.

"Let's go back home, I have a bitch's blood to clean from my hair." Cumulus commented.

You counted the exact days until this moment. After that disastrous interview, everyone left you alone. More attention was drawn to the strange attack suffered by one of the guests at the hands of three spectators who, for strange reasons, could not be identified or seen by the face and whom no one present could remember.

You had felt so humiliated that you had not left the house for days, you had cried, screamed and although it was not something you were proud of, you had to replace some windows and decorations that you decided to break and which you still remembered because of the cuts on your hands covered with band-aids, but you could not and did not want to give yourself the luxury of rejoicing in your pain, more sentimental than physical.

You were at your desk, looking at all the chaos in which the models were involved, being moved from one side to another by the stylists, makeup and hair artists and wardrobe assistants. You followed the movements of each of them like a snake, hoping that everything would be done as you wished and for now everything was going as planned. The stage was ready, there were torches outside that simulated a burning church thanks to what the stained glass windows allowed to see, in addition to candles that ran all over the stage where the models would pass and the light focused perfectly where the models would walk giving them the aura of superiority that you were looking for.

It had been a last minute problem to solve the problem with the closest townspeople, money was not a problem for you but of course that was not what bothered them, they had a hurt ego and in that you could understand them so you came to an agreement. When everything was over the church could be used as such again. You were not stupid, you would not give it to them but it was a simple loan that would keep them from trying to spoil your event.

"All the guests are here, waiting." one of your assistants for the event called your attention.

"Perfect. Is the stage ready?" You said as you stood up from your seat and looked at the thick curtain that separated the busy world behind the scenes from the place where everyone was sitting and talking to each other, too peacefully.

"All set," the girl said, checking her notes over and over again.

"And the models?" you asked again, scanning the faces of everyone in the audience.

"Only one of the models' makeup is left pending, but they're taking care of that."

You frowned in a grimace of disgust, something that raised your assistant's nervousness even more. It wasn't something you had done with that purpose, but if you were honest there was a lot of pent-up anger that was overflowing the dam of your patience. Some of the guests were people who you didn't like but they were influential and well… that's how the world works. You wanted even the smallest of details completed and ready at the promised time, after the embarrassing moment on TV you had to make the show draw more attention than your sad unresolved love problems.

"Resolve it quickly." You looked at her and walked towards the dressing room, leaving your jacket on the chair you had occupied previously. "Tell the singers to start please," you said from inside the dressing room.

You hadn't lied when you said you didn't skimp on expenses, you had hired the best of the best to carry the show and your best creations, you had great singers waiting for your command to start with a mournful Gregorian chant to start the event.

Your assistant made a silent call and from the other end you could hear the sad chants that accompanied your equally sad feelings on a pilgrimage. This had always been your dream, to present something that would impress the world, something of your own. At that moment, emotion and happiness invaded you just thinking about the organization and Copia had taken charge of feeding your ideas excessively. You didn't know how, but without realizing it, in each of your steps, in each of your dreams, he was there. You had thought that he would be with you all the time and that when it was over, you could celebrate each of your successes together. Now it seemed that everything was incomplete, as if a small but important part was missing that didn't let you rejoice in your pride and joy.

The theme of the event until now had been a mystery and the photographers played with the cameras in their hands and they whispered each other. It seemed a little silly to you that they didn't even have a clue, given the whole setting, but you assumed that they preferred to let themselves be surprised and speculate rather than take things for granted.

You finished dressing yourself, it wasn't a big deal for you, you had designed the costumes so you knew exactly what to do. As you walked to the makeup and hair area you ordered your assistant to start the show and to order each of the girls. You felt the nerves moving deeply in your guts, but you couldn't afford to give in to the feeling, you had no support if you fell prey to nerves and anxiety no one would get you out of there.

When the curtain opened and the first models went up on stage, sighs of amazement came out of everyone's mouths like a chorus, and the flashes of the cameras didn't take long to appear, some even let their wine glasses fall to the floor adding more emotion to the scene, you didn't even blink, your eyes smart and that didn't matter as you watched each of those present cover their mouths with their hand, look at each other in search of answers or extend their hands as if a prudent distance was not understood between them and the models. The Gregorian chants added more drama to the matter.

"Saint Rita of Cascia… Patience has a limit and some acts are unforgivable." A voice murmured from the speakers hidden in the ceiling.

One of the models wore a fine short-sleeved dress with embroidered flowers that at first glance emulated very well bruises and blows covered by armor with elaborate and intricate details like rose vines that ran through her body, stained with the blood of a violent and abusive man, with makeup that made her face look tired and at the same time strangely satisfied, like an oil painting and behind her being dragged by a heavy and noisy chain crawled a half-naked man with his head hooded moaning and crying with his body full of small cuts… as if made by rose thorns.

"Blessed be the ignored woman who takes justice into her own hands."

The flashes flashed one after another and the murmurs rose one after another. It was the expected reaction, the surprise was palpable and you could feel the thorn of rejection sinking into them but the euphoria of morbidity that made them continue to look expectantly at each one of the models was more acclaimed, one saint after another went by and the expectations of the public rose more and more.

"Saint Mary of Egypt…Who punishes the one who enjoys freedom lives in envious agony"

The model made her way covered by a black velvet tunic, tasting a pomegranate with desire, the red juice of the fruit slid down her throat and stained her hands full of gold rings full of jewels, she took a step further and the flames of the candles on the stage devoured the velvet with fervor, revealing long, chestnut hair that somehow managed to merge with the revealing amber corset, the sleeves were a shower of small pieces of obsidian hanging with small threads of rubies that also gathered in the skirt that was transparent from the hip to the barefoot, combining perfectly with the brown skin of the model, evoking the same feeling as the veins of an active volcano in its maximum splendor, the peak of power and the climax of an unprecedented event.

"Blessed is the woman who desires with joy and acts for her own pleasure."

The eyes of the women in the audience sparkled like diamonds as enthralled as the men were in such awe that you could safely say their jaws were on the floor, you could hear their hearts being devoured by adrenaline at the amazement of the masterpieces in front of them. Creations so perfect that they didn't seem made by human hand.

A few more models walked by, the grand finale was coming quickly.

This was your moment, you didn't need a model for what you were going to do, it may have been a bit selfish to offer yourself up for the main design of the night but it was too late to regret it, it was now or never.

You breathed one last sigh as the curtains opened and all eyes and cameras were on you, your gaze was blinded by the flash lights so you were basically alone on that stage, as if the world was yours for a moment.

"Holy Virgin Mary…always a woman, eternal mother."

You took the first step onto the stage, with uncomfortable heels with inverted crosses under your feet, a white and translucent dress with a thousand and one laces dressed you, fresh blood stained your face artistically made up with tragedy and sadness and created a puddle under your feet that stained the skirt of the dress, leaving a crimson path in your wake, beneath this, scarlet patent leather harnesses ran over your body, revealing very little or almost nothing of the skin of your abdomen and becoming less tight as they went down your legs until they were left hanging, on your shoulders you wore an infinitely long vaporous robe with detailed embroidery in gold thread, telling the story of the tragic mother. On your head rested a crown of obsidian thorns that really cut into your skin and your fresh blood stained the sweet and small veil that the crown held.

You finally raised your gaze in a pleading to heaven with a grimace of absolute happiness and complacency, so that eyes and cameras could admire the beautiful makeup that rested on your face, the tears that came out of your eyes at that moment were real, because for once the physical pain could be stronger than the pain that corroded your soul.

In your right hand you held the sacred sword of Joan of Arc, stained and dripping with fresh blood, and in your left hand the extremely realistic head of Pontius Pilate. The perfect example of how far a mother's love can go to protect her son, regardless of the punishment or the outcome. Because love can carry you in its arms and throw you into the abyss of madness if those you love the most are endangered. And if women are known for anything, it is for loving too much, loving without limits and without fear.

Everyone fell silent, even the singers stopped, a strong and powerful aura emanated from you, from your tears. One by one they stood up with their gaze completely lost in you, their pupils grew until they completely darkened their eyes, time seemed to have stopped, the camera flashes did not stop but neither were they activated by the photographers who were still in their place admiring the person on the stage like a divinity… YOU.

One by one they knelt down with their hands extended towards your figure, their heads touching the ground. You looked at everyone surprised, they were paying homage to you, submitting voluntarily as if before them was a vision.

"Ave mulier...ave mater...ave prime mover."The chants began again, this time driven by the mesmerized audience.

Just as they stood up again and some of them broke the distance to get to you, everything went out and a firm arm pulled you back into the wings. By the time the lights came back on everything was over, and people looked at each other confused at what had just happened. They were quickly taken by the staff back to the reception, where they would have their courtesy gifts and be escorted to the exit.

"What…what happened? I…" you couldn't find the right words to explain what had happened, your intention had been to surprise the public but in the end they surprised you too.

"Are you okay, miss? Are you okay? Please tell me something." Your assistant was shaking your body to get you out of the shock, she seemed worried.

Quickly and as if the air you were breathing injected adrenaline into your body, you came back to yourself in such a painful way that you felt your heart stop.

"Did everything go well?" was the only thing you managed to ask.

"Miss, it was a total success! This will be talked about for centuries!" said your assistant with extreme joy, joined by the rest of the staff, both models and technicians. Everyone knew it had been a complete success and could sense the thousand opportunities that would open before their eyes.

But the celebration was shorter than expected, one of your networking agents moved through the crowd with her tablet in hand and with a worried face she approached you and immediately you knew that something terrible had happened.

The excited and exalted scream of hundreds of fans entered your ears from the tablet's speaker, when the cameras moved you were able to see clearly what it was about. Ghost was in concert. And for the first time in months you heard his voice again.

"You guys are fabulous!" Copia shouted to the audience who was totally crazy seeing him. "It's great to be with you, here and now." You couldn't help but smile, he was always so charming with the public but there was something in his countenance, in his way of acting, as if something wasn't right. As if it was a strange bye.

He wasn't wearing one of the shiny suits you had made for him, he was only wearing a gloomy black shirt without many details or ornaments. Something like that was definitely not his style at all.

"I'm going to tell you something… it's a little secret that you can't tell anyone, okay?" The audience promised in shouts of joy "I never understood why you dedicated our songs, I didn't understand why you guys saw romance in the lyrics. I confess I thought you were a little weird, you can blame me for that." The Dance Macabre intro started playing and her voice seemed to break a little "Tonight is not just about music, tonight I need to bare my heart in front of all of you." His eyes became moist as he looked directly at the camera "I need you to know this." He walked to the center of the stage before the expectant gaze of all the fans "In the midst of the music, the lights and the energy, there is a pain that has overshadowed my existence. I have hurt someone very dear to me, someone who is the light in my soul."

A shaky sigh left your throat and a nervous smile formed on your lips, those sweet words touched and hurt you at the same time.

"I'm not supposed to do this, but, fuck it all! I can't leave without her knowing. Y/N…" you felt your eyes burn when your name left his lips, with that classic sweetness and tears were quick to spill. "I have inhabited the abyss, feeling the flames of regret, tearing my heart out for having hurt you, and I realize that without you, my life is a starless night, a complete torture. Forgive me." Tears rolled down his eyes. "I fell from your grace and I deserve it, there was reason in each of your words. But, amore mio, I am willing to crawl through the depths of Hell to earn your forgiveness. You have always been my salvation, my eternal love. Let me hold your hand again, let me show you that I am still the Copia you know, I am totally and hopelessly in love with your essence, with everything you are. Punish me if you want, but I will never stop being yours, you possess me in body and soul, before you I put my absolute devotion. I do not want everything to end like this, that cannot be our last night… If I could turn back time… I would do everything right.

The ghouls began to play and just when his voice was about to start the song the lights went out completely and white letters were projected on the stage, to the bewilderment of everyone. Thanks to the lights on fans' phones, you could see hooded men dragging Copia off the stage, and he didn't put up any resistance.

Your hand went straight to your mouth. You knew what it meant, they had done it with Terzo and now they were repeating it with your beloved Copia, but he had already accepted his fate…

"This is over…" A deep voice from beyond the grave was heard from the speakers, the annoyed tone in his voice raised the hackles of the audience.

#the band ghost #sodo ghoul #copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #copia x reader #ghost copia #ghost band #dewdrop ghost #copia emeritus #papa copia #sad things #cry #copia ANGST #just pain #angst #copia my beloved #cardi

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sarah-dipitous · 1 year

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 235

Baby/Death in Heaven

“Baby”

Plot Description: shot entirely from within the impala, this episode follows Sam and Dean as they hunt a ghoul-like creature and try to make sense of an ominous dream

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I’m GUESSING Dean’s not actually dead there, but he IS majorly unconscious

First of all, what a fucking weird episode concept

We are missing Jensen in shorts because it’s shot from inside the impala??? Rude. Like, if every other show can have scantily clad women washing cars, spn should show us Dean in shorts again. They may not even be scant

Sam, that’s not much of a smoothie

How does Cas know everything about pop culture now but doesn’t know what Netflix is??

How many years back y’all work that w****go case with Heather? Because y’all haven’t had time in the past like…six or seven

I can’t believe Dean’s not more annoyed with Sam for having sex in the back of his car.

It’s hard to be mad about seeing small moments between them in the car. Things normal people would say on long car trips, not always end of the world type shit and lying to each other all the time

WHY IS JOHN THERE??? GET OUT OF THAT CAR. It’s young John so not…AS bad as the John we all know and hate…but now I hate him too

It’s SO REFRESHING to hear them actually talk about what’s going on. Of course Dean is miffed that Sam didn’t tell him he got infected but………they’re talking about their literal DREAMS now. My heart is so soft

I don’t understand how what Dean is saying is any different than what fake dream John told Sam. That it’s up to them to bring down the Darkness, and that there’s no help…though I never really thought about what “god helps those who help themselves” means.

Good. Don’t indulge Dean calling a werewolf vampire hybrid a werepire

I knew his opposition to valet was about the car and not paying for it

Aaaaaaaand that’s why you don’t joyride the car you’re supposed to be valet parking, kids

“I’m mostly confused. I’m not sure how orange correlates with black in a way that is new” never ever change, Castiel

Dean, stop trying to make werepire happen. It’s not going to happen. Yeah, whisper is a lame name for whatever this…isn’t, actually.

The best thing about putting Cas on speaker while he’s in infodump mode is that he doesn’t realize Dean’s not there til he hears gunshots and Dean comes back in saying that it turns out he did shoot the deputy.

However, shooting him with silver bullets and decapitation DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE WORKED. HOW.

If no one says “what’s in the box?” even once it’s a waste of putting the deputy’s still growling head in a cooler

Dean, DEFINITELY don’t try to make ghoulpire happen. DEAN. Stop calling it a ghoulpire. You sound ridiculous

Oh shit. The original victim’s wife is one of the……..ghoulpires (I don’t have subtitles on so I’m not going to try to spell out a name I can barely remember. Dammit, Dean). She beat Dean unconscious and stole the impala. She might be the alpha ghoulpire. (I’ve now typed that enough times to have my phone recognize it. Great.)

$20 says the purse left by the valet girl’s friend she went joyriding with has a penny in it minted before 1982

K she’s not the alpha. The deputy is. Omg…the hairpin Piper lost after her romp with Sam is find to get the handcuffs off Dean. The knife will decapitate him and the purse WILL have the penny. I’m sure of it.

Poor Baby. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s got no windows left. I know Dean will fix her up but damn.

That’s actually smart…instead of sifting through the pennies to find one minded before 1982, just shove them all in the ghoulpire’s mouth and hope for the best. Which does seem to have worked

I take it back. She’s got her passenger’s side windows left. To think we started this episode with a fresh wash, and now Dean’s rolling her totally busted up, engine barely working, hardly any windows left (and the ones she does have are covered in blood) out of the Oregon town. Poor Baby

“Death in Heaven”

Plot Description: with cybermen in the streets of London, old friend unite against old enemies

Does that mean we’re gonna get Not Vriska, Jenny, and Strax?? Perhaps a little River??

Ok, Clara, you pretended to be the Doctor once, let’s not get carried away and think you can pull that off again in the face of the cybermen

Missy calling the cybermen her boys is hilarious. I love it

Oh, Oswin! And Kate Stewart!! I AM excited to see her back! Both of them, really, but kind of mostly Kate

Join me in this episode where I try to figure out if I like Kate or Missy more of if I can simply simp for both

🎵I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending 🎶 (and I mean like…three days ago on supernatural)

(I’m also now thinking about how I’m going to have to purchase season 4 of Sherlock…and within the next month because we are winding down on this project)

Why…would you incapacitate the Doctor??

I’m trying to trust the process but am I supposed to believe that human consciousnesses are being literally rained down into graves and THAT is somehow going to create more cybermen? Does that make sense to anyone else??

This guy working in the morgue would not survive the first five minutes of a Supernatural episode

The differences between how members of the government treat the Doctor and his authority on Earth is incredibly interesting. Harriet Jones immediately went behind Ten’s back to shoot retreating aliens out of the sky. Kate said Twelve’s word is literally law as soon as he boards this plane

The Doctor’s disdain for the military never fails to make me happy.

EXCUSE ME?? He’s president of EARTH? The DOCTOR?!?!

I had no idea Clara was canonically like a month older than me. She always seemed younger. Is Jenna younger than me? (Quick google break) She’s older than me! By like 8 months but STILL!!

I knew from the moment this cyberman showed up, it was Danny. But the sad head fall as he said “correct” when Clara (still trying to pretend to be the Doctor) said she’s an excellent liar. Oh it’s heartbreaking

The Master tried to either enslave or destroy the ENTIRE human race and Oswin is still like “she wasn’t even the worst” also…love that she used Missy’s new pronouns. Trans inclusive radical misogynist Steven Moffat wrote this one

Gotta love the Doctor’s subtle way of telling people “you’d make a really good companion.” When you only have to say “all of time and space?” And people know? Hell yeah

Everyone’s being advised to stay the hell away from cemeteries so of course we’re gonna plop Clara down in the middle of one. Makes sense

I can’t even take the trope of sex pollen in fanfic seriously, how are you going to try to make me take cyber-pollen seriously??

That’s a really good question. How DO you win a war against an enemy who can weaponize the dead?

I saw a post here the other day that I wish I had either reblogged or liked or thrown in my drafts about how the worst thing you can do to the Doctor is interrogate or torture him. Because the person being interrogated or tortured is the only irreplaceable person in the room, and you’ve just given the person whose main weapon is words a stage where their words are the most important thing. And it’s a little bit what Missy’s doing here. She fed info to UNIT about 3W, the company she founded to figure out how to turn the dead into cybermen, so it would bring everyone together including the Doctor to do her big reveal. I love her

(Oh this is a LONG episode)

I love her even more now. She’s singing “Hey Mickey” but replacing Mickey with Missy. We stan a bitch with audacity and confidence who’s definitely unhinged

Sorry rando guards and Oswin, but it was also really delicious when Missy killed you

They really need to stop underestimating how many cybermen are around

This is TORTURE. I don’t even like Danny that much but it’s AWFUL to have to watch him hear Clara say that she’ll always trust and forgive the Doctor. That she’s his best friend and he’s hers…….and she’s never lie to the Doctor. OMG.

YEAH! How shit do you feel now, Clara??

Missyyyyyyyyy, why’d you have to go and kill Kate too??

Missy has exactly zero hinges. I love her so much

Omg, yeah. Justified.

Yes, it was cool that the Doctor called the TARDIS to him and dove into it but…please. Some decorum.

I’m not saying that Danny’s necessarily wrong about the Doctor, I’m just saying that his hatred towards him has been the most complex of all the companions’ attachments. And I do think that Danny does…or did underestimate Clara a bit

There’s no way she did all this solely to give the Doctor an army as a birthday gift…oh…look, the Doctor has taken some undue authority roles over the years but that’s not what he wanted. And to make him the general of this army of cybermen because the only thing that will keep humanity alive is going out and conquering the rest of the universe is DIABOLICAL (I say kicking my feet and giggling)

See? Yeah. He’s an idiot with a box and a screwdriver (his words). So he gives the army to Danny, who gives the order to burn the clouds turning people into cybermen. I’ll admit it is a nice full circle moment

How did Kate survive that fall? *the dawning realization* one of the cybermen who was near the plane was her father. He caught her and saved her and I’m CRYING (I’ve seen very little Old Who, but I’m still crying)

Danny sending the kid he either couldn’t save or got killed (I truly wasn’t paying attention at that point) back to earth to live his life as he should

Omg, they’re lying to each other worse than the Winchesters. He didn’t find Gallifrey and she’s not still with Danny. Missy lied and Danny’s very dead now. Wtf? Why are they like this??

Oh thank god someone finally said that the two of them weren’t alright. BUT I WASNT EXPECTING IT TO BE ACTUAL SANTA CLAUS

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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sturchling · 4 years

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Hey I have a writing prompt idea if you don’t mind how about a ml salt prompt where Marinette bring tickets and backstage passes to a concert for Jagged stones only for Lila to find out and lies to the class that she brought the them and Marinette took them so the class takes them from Mari and even rip one up so she can’t go and Mari tells jagged and he gets all of them (except who ever you wish to spare) blacklisted form all his and all the other people Lila lied about shows (thanks for your ⏰

Thank you so much for the prompt. I hope this is what you were thinking of and you like this! Let me know what you think!

Things had been pretty tense in Bustier’s class for a bit. Marinette had been very busy working on a commission for Jagged. He wanted a wardrobe for the upcoming concert from Marinette. He also asked her to help design some posters and t-shirts to sell at the concert. Clara Nightingale was opening the concert and had also asked for a new outfit to wear onstage. All of this work meant that Marinette had very little time for anything else lately. Lila had used this as an opportunity to start turning the class against Marinette. When the class wanted to get together to hang out, Lila would volunteer to ‘invite’ Marinette and then tell the class that Marinette had rudely declined the invitation. The class was definitely getting irritated with the bluenette, except for the few people that knew Lila was lying and what Marinette was doing. Nino, Adrien, Juleka, and Chloe all knew what was going on, and weren’t irritated with Marinette. They were getting irritated with Lila though. Marinette did not realize what was happening in the class, she was never paying much attention to it while at school and all her free time was devoted to these concert designs. Then one day, when Marinette missed school for Jagged’s final fitting, Lila dropped the bomb on the class. She told the whole class that Marinette had been bullying her and wouldn’t leave her alone. The class was hesitant to believe this, but the liar had come prepared with ‘proof’ in the form of mean text messages from an unknown number. That was enough to trick the class into believing Lila’s tricks.

Marinette had realized that things were rocky with her friends. She knew this concert had taken up a lot of time and she wasn’t able to go to any events. She did wonder why she hadn’t heard of some of these events before, but she just assumed that the class had mentioned and she had forgot, or that they thought she would be busy. She did not realize the damage Lila had been doing to her friendships while she was busy. After doing some last-minute details for Jagged, Jagged gave her tickets and back stage passes for the concert the next night for her whole class. Marinette went home excited to tell everyone the good news the next day.

Marinette got to school early for once and saw Nino, and Juleka waiting outside the building. Marinette was so excited about the news; she was practically buzzing. She rushed up to the two and said, “Guess what?” The two students looked on curiously and asked, “What?” Marinette grinned and replied, “You know how I was working on some stuff for Jagged’s concert tonight? Well, he gave me tickets and backstage passes for the whole class!” Nino and Juleka also looked really excited upon hearing the news. While the three friends talked excitedly about the concert, they did not notice Lila hiding in the shadows, listening to every word. Lila immediately thought up a plan to ruin the stupid bluenette for good. She rushed up to the class room before the trio could spot her. When she got there, she peeked into the classroom to see who was her audience this time. She saw that Alya, Alix, Kim, and Mylene were already sitting in the class room. Lila took a deep breath and turned on the waterworks and rushed in. Alya immediately jumped up and asked, “What’s wrong girl? Why are you crying?” Lila almost grinned and broke the illusion, but she caught herself and sobbed, “Well, I talked with Jagged yesterday and managed to get us all tickets and backstage passes for the concert tonight. I even got one for Marinette, even though she has been bullying me. I thought this would be a good peace offering. But when I got here this morning and told Marinette the news, she stole the tickets from me!” Lila could see it did the trick and the students in the room were furious. As the rest of the class trickled in, they were told the story too and they became just as furious with Marinette. By this point the only people who hadn’t heard the story were Nino, Adrien, Juleka and Chloe. But Lila knew they wouldn’t believe her. Those four had realized or already known that Lila was a liar, but they hadn’t said anything to the rest of the class. Lila wasn’t sure why they hadn’t, but it didn’t matter now. Her hold on the class was so strong, Lila doubted that those four would make a difference.

Marinette and her friends stayed outside and talked about the concert until it was almost time for class. They all walked in the building together and up to the classroom. Marinette walked in, not having heard Lila’s fake wails coming from the room, held up the tickets and announced, “Guys, I got us all tickets to Jagged’s concert tonight!” When there was no response, Marinette really looked at her class. She then noticed all of the other students glaring at her and how Lila was still crying dramatically. Marinette instantly knew, whatever was happening wasn’t going to be good. Alya started yelling, “How could you Marinette?! Not only do you bullying Lila maliciously the last few days, but they you steal the tickets Jagged gave her as a gift and tried to take the credit. Did you honestly think that was going to work?! I never realized you were so petty.” That got the rest of the class to start yelling. Marinette and her friends were stunned silent by all of this, but quickly regained their composure and tried to defend Marinette. They knew they had to say something this time, but the class either couldn’t hear them over the yelling, or were not listening to them. Alya walked up to Marinette and snatched the tickets from her hands. Marinette yelled, “What are you doing?! Lila is lying to you, Jagged gave me those tickets for the class!” Alya walked back to Lila and replied in a cold voice, “No, Marinette. I am tired of you bad mouthing Lila just because you are jealous. These were Lila’s tickets and you stole them. Don’t worry, the class will get the tickets. But-” Alya turns to Lila and says, “Lila, I don’t think Marinette deserves your kindness. She shouldn’t get that ticket.” With that Lila acts meek and hands over one of the tickets. Alya rips it in half while Marinette and her friend stare in disbelief. They had no idea how things had gotten this bad, this quickly. Marinette ran out of the class and left the school. Alya started passing out the tickets to the rest of the class, but when she got to the four that came in with Marinette, she was met with cold glares. Nino spoke up, “Alya, how could you do that to Marinette. Not cool dudette.” With that said, the four turned and left the class room to follow the bluenette and make sure she didn’t become an akuma. The rest of the class couldn’t believe that they would side with a bully like Marinette but they pushed it aside. If those four wanted to hang out with the bully instead of go to the awesome concert tonight, so be it. The class got excited for the concert, while Lila basked in her victory, not realizing that it was actually the start of her defeat.

Nino and company arrived at the bakery and Tom and Sabine let them up into the apartment. They found Marinette in her room pacing. They had expected her to be crying, but she didn’t look sad. She looked angry. Marinette turned to face them and said, “Any objections to abandoning the ‘high-road’ approach to the Lila problem?” They were all in agreement. It was time to take Lila down, even if she got akumatized. So, the five friends hatched a plan to dethrone the liar. And to do it at the concert tonight. But they needed some help first. Marinette called Penny and told her what happened. Jagged was listening at the time, and was furious at what his favorite designer and honorary niece was saying. Jagged agreed to help however he could. After sending the group five new tickets and telling security that the class wasn’t to be allowed into the venue, Jagged agreed to meet them outside the venue. The tickets he had originally gave Marinette were VIP tickets, which listed a different entrance to come into the concert. This meant that Jagged could help with part of the plan in person. The group then spent the next hour going over details with the rocker until they had a concrete plan. Lila had no idea what was about to happen.

The class arrived at the concert about 45 minutes before it was set to begin. They wanted to browse the merch booths before the show. When they got there though, they were told that their tickets weren’t valid. The class was really confused and asked security to check again, it must have been a mistake after all. Lila had gotten these tickets from Jagged himself they must be valid. What the class couldn’t see was Jagged was waiting behind the door into the venue. He was waiting for the five friends to arrive, so the plan could begin. He did not have to wait long. Marinette, Nino, Adrien, Juleka, and Chloe arrived a few minutes later, while the class was still arguing with security, and walked right up to the security. Their tickets were scanned and the class waited with smug looks for their tickets to be denied like theirs had been. Imagine their shock and outrage when the tickets were confirmed and they were allowed to pass. Lila immediately turned on the tears and sobbed, “Marinette must have switched the tickets when she stole them from me! The ones Alya got back must have been fake!” Before the class could begin yelling again, the door to the venue opened and out walked Jagged Stone. He ignored the rest of the class and called out, “Hey Marinette! How is my rock’in little designer?” Marinette smiled and chatted with the rock star while the class watched, completely dumbstruck. Lila was silent too, but she was terrified. How could this be happening to her? Alya recovered from the shock first and yelled, “Wait! Why are you talking to Marinette?! She has been bullying Lila, why would you be nice to her?” Jagged turns to the class and asks, “Who is Lila?” Alya gets furious from that comment, while Lila grows pale and starts looking for an out. Alya starts yelling again, “Who is Lila?! What do you mean ‘Who is Lila’? Lila is the girl who saved your cat from being run over by a plan on the airport runway. She is the one who introduced MDC to you. She is the girl you consider your honorary niece!” Jagged just looks at the class with a deadpan look and replies, “I have never met or even heard of this Lila. I have never owned a cat, so she couldn’t have saved mine ever. No one introduced MDC to me, I met them myself. And the only person I think of as my niece is Marinette.” The class was completely shocked. They turned to confront Lila, but Lila had already slipped out of the crowd at some point and left. Lila began thinking of ways to get her mother to skip school for a while on her way home. How was Lila supposed to know things would go this wrong?

Back at the concert venue, the class tried to apologize to Marinette. Marinette almost forgave them, until they asked if they could still come into the concert. Marinette just rolled her eyes and went inside with her friends. Jagged started to go inside too, but first he turned back and said to the class, “You think I’m going to let you in after what you lot did? What you guys did was not rock’in. So not rock’in. With that he went inside the building. He made sure to tell Penny to black list all of those students outside, so they could not attend any of his concerts from now on. He passed word along to Clara about what the liar had been saying about her too, and Clara quickly followed suit, banning the class from her events. After the show he asked Marinette about the rest of the lies, and he reached out to each of the celebrities that he knew, and it wasn’t long before these celebrities made public statements, denouncing the liar and saying they had never met her. In one night, Lila’s reputation was destroyed and she received several C&D orders. Lila’s mother was so mad, that she sent Lila back to Italy to live with her grandparents. The liar was gone, Marinette’s life was starting to look up again, and she couldn’t wait to have more fun times with her true friends.

#ml class salt #ml salt fic #ml salt #ml fanfic #ml fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculous salt #writing prompt #alya salt #lila rossi #Lila exposed #lila salt #lila exposed fic #lila gets exposed #ml salt fanfic

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captain-aralias · 3 years

Photo

Fic’s finished - here’s some trivia!

Includes:

References to 90s RomComs

Writerly ephemera

Baz’s wardrobe / Simon’s wardrobe

A deleted scene

90s RomComs

In the prompt, Liz mentioned Four Weddings and a Funeral and My Best Friend’s Wedding. (And The Proposal, which honestly I’ve never seen, even though now I’m thinking I should.) I didn’t really go with the vibes because I wanted to do a break up, but I put at least one reference to these films in every chapter. For fun.

He was the love of my life. My North, my South, my East and West. (Chapter 1)

It also, horrifyingly, sounds a lot like that awful song Daphne made us listen to earlier. I can’t laugh, and I can’t sing. (Chapter 2)

The whole ‘forgot the rings’ thing is reference enough

I like him dressed for weddings. (Chapter 3)

He crosses his arms. Pretends to be unmoved, even when half the bar joins in (I tipped Shepard off) (he thought the plan was brilliant) even the lobsters. They’re waving their claws in the air. (Chapter 4 - the only reference to My Best Friend’s Wedding)

“The boy’s a liar,” someone barks from behind me. “Tyrannus Pitch has been dead sixty years and good riddance.” (Chapter 5)

“Simon,” I say. “I do.” (Chapter 5)

Writerly Ephemera

Amy had this lovely idea a few months ago: Find bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories).

Usually, there’s hardly any of my life in my fic, but I stole a few bits and pieces for this fic:

My father got re-married when I was at university. I like his wife, but I barely knew her then - I just knew, she’s the woman my dad left my mum for! He asked me to choose a reading and I had literally no idea what to pick. Retrospectively, I should have said no, you choose, but anyway. I chose a bit of Jeeves & Wooster where Bertie talks about wanting to get married for some reason - both my aunts loved it, the married couple were completely bemused. No idea what I was on about.

Also, their recessional music was Whitney Houston. The theme from The Bodyguard. I’d originally written this as the Spice Girls, since Daphne would have grown up in the 90s, but then I thought of the end of Chapter 2 joke, and I was like - going to troll my father from this gay fanfiction, I guess.

It was really hot when I was writing Chapter 3. That’s why it’s very hot in this chapter.

Simon and Baz choose not to get married at the end of this fic - not yet anyway. In part, because I didn’t want to re-do Golden Years, in part because that’s the end of Four Weddings, and in part because I feel a bit like I’ve written Baz in this fic. I thought I liked weddings, until I thought about it properly ... (N.B. I think actual Baz totally wants to marry Simon, btw, and Simon longs for an official family. But I had to get to my ending, so here we are.)

Baz’s wardrobe

You can still buy a very similar McQueen blazer if you like. Which I like even more. It’s completely not my vibe - unlike the Harry Styles Gucci below, which definitely is – and it’s a thousand pounds, but several times during this fic, I thought... I mean, maybe?

There’s no reference for the burgundy suit - I just wanted it.

Simon’s wardrobe

He’s wearing the Leaver’s Ball outfit at Jamie & Beth’s wedding, followed by a suit that has no reference, but is based - in my mind - on one from RooBadley’s Use Your Words

I consulted Roo about Simon’s wardrobe for this fic - for one summer wedding, one winter wedding. They gave me these:

I really liked this second suit for Simon - so much that when I remembered Simon was the best man in Chapter 5 and should probably be wearing some sort of matching outfit with Shepard, I was like... to hell with it. He’s wearing this!!!

I switched the green for undyed linen. Roo and I also had this conversation, which I wanted to use in the fic but never managed to fit in.

aralias i'm just reading in the gentleman's gazette that it's actually OK for linen to be creased

RooBadley

I would very much love for this to be a fact that Lady Ruth reassures Simon with and Simon then repeats to Baz his one bit of fashion knowledge

aralias "the really pronounced characteristic wrinkles of linen are a sign of a sophisticated casual style, actually, Baz"

RooBadley Baz: Shall I spell those wrinkles out for you, Snow? Simon: Actually, creasing is fine and acceptable when wearing linen, Baz. Though'd you'd have known that. ~smirk~

aralias i like the way this dude has rolled up the trousers too - it's not a safari, it's hipster

Deleted scene:

After the success (I think) of the end of chapter 1, I started to think ‘maybe every chapter will end with some texting!!!’

I started writing this conversation for the end of chapter 2 before I’d finished it - almost unheard of - but then I decided I hated it. Very info-dumpy. I kept the homo-positive joke, as you can see, even though I’m not sure it deserves to be kept. 😂

“HOLY MORGANA. penny just told me.”

“I know. She called me as well. It’s some sort of visa thing, I think. And she thinks it will be helpful in negotiating back all the children he’s bartered away, if she can tell people she’s his wife and has a claim on them.”

“it was more romantic when penny told me about it. shepard asked me to be his best man.”

“Oh dear. Are he and Bunce going to fight over you?”

“obviously not. penny’s a woman.”

“So? I’m going to be Fiona’s Best Man. Or Man of Honour – whatever the term is.”

“yeah, but that’s different.”

“How? Choose your words carefully, Snow.”

“I mean, because fiona doesn’t have any other friends & her sister is dead (sorry). who the fuck would she pick if not you? penny asked her sister.”

“Oh. I thought you meant because I was gay. And like to wear flowers.”

“wtf. no. i’m not homophobic. i’m LITERALLY homo … positive. (is that a thing?)”

“I think you can just say gay.”

“i’m not gay, tho”

“Right. Well, this is awkward.”

“why?”

“baz? you know i don’t know what i am. and you know it doesn’t matter, because the only person I want to be with is YOU. even tho you’re a touchy bastard.”

“man of honour suits you. you should go with that.”

“Best man doesn’t suit *you* at all.”

“fuck off.”

“are you going to come to penny’s wedding?”

“Yes. Even now I know you’re helping organise it. Do you want to come to Fiona’s?”

“fuck no. she tried to kill me. unless you want me to. i’ll go if you want me to. i’ll even buy her a gift”

“I would like you to be there.”

“all right. send me the invite.”

that’s all, folks!

Four Funereal Weddings and an American Stag Do

#carry on #awtwb spoilers #my fic #my deleted scenes #my content

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miraculouswolf99 · 4 years

Text

Akumatized: Valid Or Not

This is basically a list of every akumatized that has appeared so far. There will be four types of categories that they will be put into that say whether or not their reason for being akumatized was valid or not.

Categories:

1. Valid- The reason they were akumatized is completely understandable and could happen to anyone.

2. Semi-Valid- It is still understandable, but for things that are relatively normal. Like losing a contest, being rejected by a crush, or failing a test.

3. You Brought This On Yourself- Akumatized over something that was basically their fault to begin with and is not valid at all.

4. What The Hell- An akumaization that makes no sense at all and most likely not really much of a reason to be akumatized in the first place.

Season One:

Nino Lahiffe- Bubbler: Valid. Gabriel is a jerk that would not let his son's best friend throw him a birthday party.

Xavier Ramier- Mr. Pigeon: Semi-Valid. Was just trying to feed the pigeons, but had been aware that there was a rule/law against it.

Aurore Beauréal- Stormy Weather: Semi-Valid. Lost a contest, but almost had it rubbed in her face when she was told that she lost by a lot.

Alix Kubdel- Timebreaker: Valid. Had her family heirloom destroyed not even an hour after she got it because other people did not put a pocket watch in their pocket when she asked them to hold it during her race.

Théo Barbot- Copycat: Semi-Valid. Believed that the girl he had a crush on was dating someone else, but was treating the situation more that she was an object that he could take if he wanted to.

Jalil Kubdel- Pharaoh: Valid. While it is never a good idea to try and resurrect the dead, his father rejected his theory about the spell even when they were in a city of magical heroes and villains.

Alya Césaire- Lady Wifi: Semi-Valid. Was wrongly suspended because Chloe was being a brat. She may have been taking pictures of Chloe's locker, but the door was open and Chloe had accused her of breaking into it.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg- The Evillustrator: Valid. Was embarrassed by having his crush revealed by a bully and humiliated when the drawings of his crush were revealed to everyone.

Roger Raincomprix- Rogercop: Semi-Valid. Was wrongfully fired for not arresting a girl that the mayor's daughter accused of theft even without proof, but had not done any sort of investigation at all about the missing bracelet.

Lê Chiến Kim- Dark Cupid: Valid. May have been rejected by his crush but had his heart broken on Valentine's day and humiliated by the girl he had a crush on.

Mylène Haprèle- Horrificator: Semi-Valid. We all get scared and she was trying to be brave for the film, but she was also the one that purposely signed up to be the lead in a horror movie.

Armand D'Argencourt- Darkblade: Semi-Valid. Lost the mayoral election, but was also running because he thought that he should reclaim his family's lost seat of power from back in medieval times. It's been hundreds of years, man. Get over it.

Fred Haprèle- Mime: Valid. Was wrongfully fired from his job because a co-worker had sabotaged him to gain the lost job for himself.

Jean Duparc- Magician of Misfortune: What The Hell. We were never even given a reason for why he was akumatized in the first place.

Rose Lavillant- Princess Fragrance: Valid. Simply wanted to give a letter to a prince to thank him for all the charity work he does, but the letter was destroyed by a bully.

Ivan Bruel- Stoneheart: Valid. Believed that his crush rejected him while also being bullied/teased over the crush in the first place. Was also bullied over being akumatized in the first place and called a monster.

Otis Césaire- Animan: What The Hell. So, he was akumatized because a teenage boy thought that he could out-run a panther. Even for a zookeeper, is that really something to be upset about?

Simón Grimault- Simon Says: Valid. May have lost a contest, but was basically cheated out of a win because Gabriel did not even really seem like he was going to participate in the first place and he was not even given the chance to try his act.

Vincent Aza- Pixelator: You Brought This On Yourself. A creepy stalker that wants a picture of his favorite rock star and will try anything to get it. "Yicks" is all I have to say.

Jagged Stone- Guitar Villain: Valid. Was told that he had to change his look and music to the complete opposite of his own just because his manager liked a teenage pop star more than him.

Wang Cheng- Kung Food: Valid. He lost a contest, but that was only because Chloe was a brat that sabotaged him.

Max Kanté- Gamer: Semi-Valid. He lost a chance to be in a video game contest but was more upset over losing his chance because he lost to a girl.

Juleka Couffaine- Reflekta: Valid. She was trying to break her "photo curse" but lost her chance because Chloe had her locked in the bathroom so she could stand next to her crush/obsession.

Manon Chamack- Puppeteer: Valid. She is a little girl that was simply trying to win a game and did not really see why having a doll that was given to her was wrong.

Sabrina Raincomprix- Vanisher: Valid. Had a fight with her best friend and then said best friend also pretended that she was invisible because she was a brat.

Chloé Bourgeois- Antibug: You Brought This On Yourself. She was a brat that was called out for lying about being the reason for an akumaization by the hero that she admired.

Lila Rossi- Volpina: You Brought This On Yourself. She was called out for lying about being best friends with a superhero and trying to claim that she was also a hero with a fake miraculous. Karma will always come back to bite you, Liar Rossi.

Season 2:

Santa Claus- Santa Claws: Valid. Was trying to be a good samaritan, but was instead accused of kidnapping by a superhero.

Gabriel Agreste- Collector: You Brought This On Yourself. Gabriel is Hawkmoth and he akumatized himself. Need I say more.

Nadja Chamack- Prime Queen: You Brought This On Yourself. Her job may have been on the line, but she was willing to leave out information and use a picture taken out of context as her "proof" that the heroes were a couple.

Jean- Despair Bear: You Brought This On Yourself. Was trying to use humiliation to try and make a spoiled brat change her ways and was doing it in front of her class.

Kagami Tsurugi- Riposte: Valid. Thought that a single loss against a formidable opponent meant that she had lost her honor because of an over strict mother.

Gina Dupain- Befana: Semi-Valid. Had a hard time realizing that her grandaughter was growing up, but all grandparents feel that way.

Markov- Robostus: Valid. Even as a robot, he still had feelings, but was told he was just a toy and locked away like an object.

Mr. Damocles- Dark Owl: You Brought This On Yourself. If you are a high school principal with no reason or skill to become a hero, don't try and be one while exhausting the real heroes in the process because they keep having to save you.

August- Gigantitan: Valid. He's a literal baby.

André- Glaciator: Semi-Valid. Was told that the special "soulmate" ice cream that he believed in was not magical, but it was still only one girl that did not want that ice cream.

Ella and Etta Césaire- Sapotis: You Brought This On Yourself. They may be young girls, but they had repeatedly been told to go to bed and were rightfully punished for their bad behavior.

Adrien's bodyguard/The Gorilla- Gorizilla: Valid. He was just trying to do his job and was having an extra stressful day with his charge running off and disappearing with almost half of Paris looking for him.

Anarka Couffaine- Captain Hardrock: Valid. Roger was a jerk to her, telling her that her loud music could not be played during the festival instead of simply telling her to turn it down a little.

Clara Nightingale- Frightningale: Valid. Was told that she could not perform or shoot her music video in France anymore because Chloe was being a brat over not being the star in the music video.

Ondine- Syren: Semi-Valid. She believed that she was rejected by her crush, but there had actually not been any real rejected on Kim's part.

Caline Bustier- Zombizou: Semi-Valid. While she took the akuma to protect her student, the akuma was only there because she made her student believe that she was in trouble for being a victim of bullying

Philippe- Frozer: Valid. He is close to losing his business because of the lack of customers.

Audrey Bourgeois- Style Queen: You Brought This On Yourself. She is a grown woman throwing a temper tantrum because she had to sit in the second row of a fashion show.

Penny Rolling- Troublemaker: Valid. Give the woman a bloody break. She deserves it for putting up with you crazy people and a freaking crocodile every day.

Queen Bee/Chloe Bourgeois-Queen Wasp: You Brought This On Yourself. While she had been trying to impress the mother she thought would never love her, she still stole a miraculous, almost caused a train to crash, and used her powers selfishly.

Marc Anciel-Reverser: Valid. He had his notebook destroyed and confidence ruined after trying to put himself out there for the first time because of a big misunderstanding between himself, Nathaniel, and Marinette.

Nora Césaire- Anansi: Semi-Valid. She was trying to protect her sister, but was being super overprotective and did not have faith in actual superheroes.

André Bourgeois- Malediktator: Valid. He was trying to keep his family happy and together but was faced against a brat of a daughter and a controlling wife where neither respected him.

Boy- Sandboy: Semi-Valid. He was a little boy that had a frightening nightmare, but nightmares are pretty common and normal in life.

Lila Rossi- Volpina: You Brought This On Yourself. She wanted to be akumatized and gladly welcomed the chance to be a villain again.

Nathalie Sancoeur- Catalyst: You Brough This On Yourself. She was willingly akumatized. Nothing more needs to be said.

Rena Rouge/Alya Cesair- Rena Rage: Valid. Took a negative emotions arrow for her boyfriend and had all her love put in reverse and turned into rage.

Carapace/Nino Lahiffe- Shell Shock: Valid. Just saw his superhero girlfriend be akumatized and was both losing hope and was hit by a negative emotions arrow.

Heroes' Day Villains: Valid. They all believed that one of their town heroes had been killed by the akumatized form of their other main hero. They had lost hope.

Season 3:

Lila Rossi- Chameleon: You Brought This On Yourself. She literally grabbed the akuma out of the air purposely got akumatized to try and ruin Adrien's friendships and get another shot at defeating Ladybug.

Thomas Astruc- Animaestro: What The Hell. So, he was akumatized because no one recognized him as a director of an animation movie. I did not really understand it. He was a director of an animation movie. Why would anyone recognize him if they had not seen the movie credits and know who the director was in the first place?

Rolland Dupain- Bakerix: What The Hell. I'm still confused over him. Was he akumatized because Marinette lied about who she was or was it because he was upset over modern baking techniques outshining his own? I did not get it.

Marianne Lenoir- Backwarder: Valid. She had been waiting a long time for the person that she loved, only to believe that he no longer cared for her.

Max Kanté- Gamer 2.0: Semi-Valid. He could not find a person to test out the game that he had made and was told no by a lot of people. A person can only take rejection for so long.

Tom Dupain- Weredad: Valid. He wanted to protect his daughter from heartbreak and was a victim of a lie gone way out of hand.

Luka Couffaine- Silencer: Valid. The song, look, and music that he and his friends created was stolen and his friend had been threatened when they tried to get their music back.

Kagami Tsurugi- Oni-Сhan: Valid. She might have been jealous, but that was only because Liar Rossi lied her way into her friend's home, kissed him without his permission, and claimed that the two were a couple even when he was obviously uncomfortable with her kissing him.

Sabrina Raincomprix- Miraculer: Semi-Valid. She was yelled at by her friend even though she was simply trying to help her after she fought off being akumatized.

Alya Césaire & Nino Lahiffe- Oblivio: What The Hell. They were akumatized over being caught playing a silly video game. That is a very stupid reason.

Wayhem- Party Crasher: Valid. He thought that his friend lied to him about not being able to have friends over and was then rejected at the door of his friend's house when he thought that there was a party there he could attend.

Chris Lahiffe- Christmaster: Semi-Valid. He was upset over not being able to get his presents early, but what kid wouldn't be upset over that.

Manon Chamack- Puppeteer: Semi-Valid. Wanted to play with the big kids and felt ignored by them all day. But that is pretty common for little kids to feel, especially when older siblings and their friends are involved.

Aurore Beauréal- Stormy Weather: Valid. Not only were her grades slipping, but she was also ridiculed by a bully, bullied by her saying 'once a villain always a villain.'

Ms. Mendeleiev- Kwamibuster: Semi-Valid. She was humiliated on live television when trying to prove herself as a great scientist, but she had not even bothered to look at the footage she had before going on the show.

Dormant Sentimonster- Feast: What The Hell. An akumatized sentimonster. I have officially seen it all now.

Juleka Couffaine- Reflekta/Reflectdoll: Valid. She was trying to start her dream of being a model but was basically chased out because Alya was pushing her matchmaking over her friend's dream.

Tomoe Tsurugi- Ikari Gozen: Semi-Valid. Her daughter had disobeyed her to play a game that she did not think was worth the time, but she was still an overly strict mother that was trying to control her daughter's every move.

Vivica- Desperada: Valid. She was fired for a completely ridiculous reason and her boss was quick to try and find a replacement for her.

Claudie Kanté- Startrain: Valid. She was a nervous wreck over if she was close to achieving her dream of being an astronaut while also being a worried mother about having to leave her son if she did get accepted into training.

Xavier Ramier- Mr. Pigeon: You Brought This On Yourself/What The Hell. This guy had been akumatized about 24 times. Enough said.

Future Chris Lahiffe- Timetagger: What The Hell. We are never even given a reason why he was akumatized in the first place.

Cat Noir- Cat Blanc: Valid. He had just found out that his father is the supervillain that has been terrorizing Paris for years and that the mother that disappeared has been under his house the entire time in a coma.

Alya Césaire/Rose Lavillant/Juleka Couffaine- Lady Wifi/Princess Fragrance/Reflekta: Valid. They believed that their friend had sent a horrible message to them in return for their heartfelt messages about them supporting him in his time of pain.

Nathalie Sancoeur- Catalyst: You Brought This On Yourself. She was willingly akumatized again, nothing more and nothing less.

André & Audrey Bourgeois- Heart Hunter: Semi-Valid. They had been fighting and not as in-love as they probably had been once upon a time, but they had never thought about a marriage counselor before.

Queen Bee/Chloe Bourgeois- Miracle Queen: You Brought This On Yourself. Even after being told that she will not get the bee miraculous back, she still tries getting it from Ladybug multiple times. And then she willingly works with Hawkmoth.

#gabriel salt #lila salt #chloe salt #ml salt #akuma list #akumatization

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

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Truth is Subjective

This post is based off a prompt by #galahadwilder. I give all credit to them for the idea.

This did not turn out the way I wanted it to. AT ALL. I completely missing the mark; or in this case prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to make it work like I had envisioned when I first read the prompt. And now I’m just like ugh. L

When Ladybug saw Alya frantically waving her down from where she was on top of her apartment roof. It was, nearly after midnight. She just finished off an Akuma. However, emotions had been running high among the students in her class so Ladybug didn’t hesitate to see what was wrong. Alya made not have been her best friend, or any type of friend, anymore but Ladybug was still a hero.

A hero who was not happy to see Lila Rossi standing next to her.

The Italian girl looked pleasant at first glance but anger was clear in her eyes. Alya had her phone out. It took all of two seconds for Marinette to figure out what was going on. Alya wanted an interview with Ladybug and her supposed best friend. Lila was sure Ladybug would reveal the truth like she did last time.

Marinette fought to keep the grin off her face. She had idea. A rather wicked idea. She had taken to spending a lot of time with Jagged and Penny and Audrey Bourgeois, watching how they manipulated the news to better suit their individual brands. She now know that even if she told Alya what a liar Lila was, Lila could and would easily spin it to say that “Ladybug said that to protect me”. And Alya would just believe it.

Not this time, Marinette vowed.

“Ladybug!” Alya beamed and immediately jumped into the interview, “I’ve been trying to catch you for months.”

“I know,” Ladybug said coolly.

Marinette had decided that if Alya couldn’t check her facts, then Ladybug couldn’t work with her. She had been reporting too much false information and more or less become a site dedicated to shipping Ladybug with Chat Noir and promoting Lila’s B.S.

Alya didn’t seem to notice the frost in the air. “We’re live streaming for the Ladyblog,” She said. “Ladybug and Lila Rossi; best friends forever.” She said waving her phone between the two. “Ladybug, Lila what’s it look being friends. Lila said she helped you rescue a bunch of people when you still lived in Italy. Before you became Ladybug!”

Lila looked sick, “Now, it was so long ago. She probably doesn’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, Alya, but this interview is over,” Ladybug responded and before reporter could protest, she added. “I refuse to give an interview with my stalker.”

It was like the wind was punched out of Alya, “Sta- Stalker?”

Lila just stared with her mouth opened.

Ladybug nodded gravely, while inwardly Marinette cheered, “Stalker. What else would you call someone who constantly follows you around? Interfere with my rescues. Fantasize scenarios where we’re close personal friends and tells people about it. Try to convince everyone that those tales are real. Maybe it’s a coincidence that she transferred into only class in the entire school, out of all the public schools in France that has had the most akumas thus students I see regularly. Despite her mother being an important diplomat? Who knows?” Ladybug pitched her nose. “For god’s sake, Alya, she even got close to you, the only journalist I deal with on a continuity. You keeping spinning out her stories; feeding her delusions. Why do think I started avoiding you? I saw you were friends with her. I can’t be around her. I won’t.”

It went silent. Alya’s mouth had dropped opened. She looked shocked and slightly ill. Lila looked like she was considering murder. Marinette was five seconds away from doing her happy dance.

“Alya,” Ladybug said seriously. “Be honest, Lila’s said so many stories about so many celebrities but there’s no real evidence backing it up. Her grand adventures with Jagged Stone, Prince Ali, Clara Nightingale; it’s all in her head. At least point, I’m started to think they may have been her past obsessions. She claimed I healed her so many of different diseases, I thought someone was going to try to give me saint hood. Do you really think Jagged Stone would write a song about an underage girl without her parents knowing? Or that Clara Nightingale stole her dance moves. Do you know how bad that looks? Not to mention that model kid Adrien Agreste. From what I heard, what she’s doing to him is borderline sexual harassment. I think they’re victims,” She stressed the word. “Like me. If I wasn’t concerned about my secret identity, I’d have gone to the police by now.”

“Police!” Lila squeaked.

Ladybug shook her head, “I know people. Maybe I can just do a cease and desist order on the Ladyblog. But this has to stop,” She told Alya. “It’s the middle of the night, which is dangerous enough as it is. But there was an akuma as well. You called me, again in the middle of the night, to meet with my stalker. Do you know how scary that is? How that makes me feel?” She asked.

“I’m sorry!” Alya said with tears in hers, her phone still streaming. “I didn’t know.”

Ladybug threw up her hands, “You didn’t even bother to ask! At any time in the last year, you could’ve checked with me that you were reporting the truth.”

Alya sobbed. Lila just glared. She was too busy thinking of ways she could spend this.

Ladybug looked around, with suspicious, “Do your parents even know where you are?”

“Well, I, I mean,” The glasses wearing girl stuttered.

Marinette raised her hands in surrender, “No. I’m done. You’ve gone too far. You put yourself in danger. And you put me in danger. All for an interview. No more. You obviously don’t take this seriously; being a journalist, your blog, your life, anything. I’m done. I won’t work with you again. I can’t risk it.”

And with that Ladybug, yo’yo’d away. When she transformed back to normal and safely got to her house, Marinette fell to the floor laughing. Tikki joined her. Revenge was sweet.

The bluenette plopped down her bed. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. For months and months she had been accused of bullying Lila, of being jealous, by tomorrow all of France would know what happened on the rooftop.

Lila wasn’t outed as liar like she thought she would be. No, Marinette, Rossi got a much worse fate.

When Marinette woke up the next morning, it was like the world had caught on fire. Nadja was having field day. Celebrities Lila had said she knew vocally denounced every knowing the girl. The world cried, “Poor Ladybug.”

Marinette blinked at the sheer quiet of her class. She had expected chaos. Maybe they didn’t know. Maybe Lila was able to spin it around for the class.

No that wasn’t right. Nino was comforting Alya, who had red eyes and messy hair.

“What’s going on,” She asked Adrien, one of the few people who were still friendly with her in class. She may not have had a crush on him anymore but she still thought he was a decent friend.

“You don’t know?” Alix asked, with shock on her face. “How could you not know? All of Paris is talking about Ladybug’s stalker.”

Marinette scratched the back on her head, a look of faux-confusion on her face, “I got up late again, I didn’t have time to look anything up,” Looks of understanding came from the students. “Wait! Stalker?!” She took a dramatic pause. “…You know?”

Alya stood up angrily, “You knew!”

Marinette took a hasty step back, “Of course I knew. Don’t you remember I got you your first interview with Ladybug? I know her.” Alya looked somewhat placated but still angry. She told me all about it. She was really freaked out. But I promised I wouldn’t say anything,” She defended. “I don’t break my promise. Yet I tried to warn you as best I could. I tried to warn everyone.” Marinette shrugged. “And look what happened. Most of us aren’t even friends anymore.”

Her words were a slap to the face. Most of her former friends had the grace to look ashamed.

Marinette just shrugged again and went her seat.

“I’m ruined,” Alya cried into Nino’s shoulder. “My fans hate me. Half of them think I was lying to them. The other half hate me because I hurt Ladybug. How was I supposed to know Lila was a nutjob?”

“You could’ve fact checked,” Marinette told her. “Listen to me even one of the hundred times I told you she was lying. Asked Ladybug. Asked Chat Noir. Read the twenty percent of the Ladyblog’s comments that she said was lying. You could’ve done a lot to find out the truth.” She stared hard at her former friend. “You chose not to.”

Alya cried harder.

“Harsh, dudette,” Nino glared at her.

Coldness went down Marinette’s back. She stood up, “Harsh!” Marinette yelled, everyone flinched back. “Yeah maybe it’s a bit harsh. But you know what was worse? Losing all my friends. Being called a liar. A jealous psycho. Being bullied by people who I’ve known forever. Getting mean, nasty texts that could have the sender charged with harassment.”

The bluenette glared around the room; at the paling, stunned faces of the other students.

“Harsh,” She hissed at Nino. “Well I’m sorry if the truth is a little harsh. But I think after falling for so many lies, maybe Alya deserves the truth for once. You all do.”

Alya pulled away from Nino, and nodded. “She’s right,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m so sorry.”

Marinette looked at Alya, her former bestie. Nino the boy she thought always had her back until he stabbed her in it. Kim, her friend since they were in diapers, who had no problem accusing Marinette of awful things. Alix and Mylene, who led the charge against her. Nathanial who had sat and done nothing when they spilled and destroy her designs.

“Sorry’s not always enough,” Marinette admitted, hurt filling her. “There’s another truth for you.”

“My dad’s furious,” Adrien said, gaining everyone attention. “Everyone knows he insisted Lila do the photoshoots with me. An insider even revealed that I made it clear I was bother by Lila. They think he doesn’t take sexual harassment at work seriously. Brand’s taking a hit.”

“Ladybug must be so scared,” Sabrina put in. “My dad told me about some crazy stalker cases he’s seen. They got really obsessive. One guy even kidnapped a kid because he though it looked like his and this woman’s future child. Said the child was theirs. Dad wants me to stay away from Lila. He doesn’t want me getting her attention. Who knows what she’d do?”

Sabrina words sent shivers through the students. A few who watched true crime stories looked particularly green.

“We should’ve caught on,” Alix frowned. “None of her stories even made sense. Saved a cat from being hit by a plane? Really? Are we morons?”

“Something must be seriously wrong with her,” Rose offered. “Maybe she just needs help.”

“She needs a nice white jacket,” Kim growled. “And a padded cell.”

“Where is Lila?” Marinette asked.

Surprising it was Juleka who answered, “Hiding in her house. Reporters everywhere want a one on one with Ladybug’s Stalker. Her face is all over the news. She’s trending on Twitter. So’s the Ladyblog.”

Alya groaned. Her blog, her life’s work was finally getting the attention she always wanted but in the worst possible way.

Nino hugged his girlfriend, “At least no one will ever be fool again,” He offered.

“Undoubtable,” Max agreed. “I foresee that Lila is well on way to be the most famous stalker in recent history. They’ll use her as a textbook example one day, if this carries on. People will base their doctorates on her mental health.”

Marinette smirked.

Lila was going to get the all attention she’d ever want.

#ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #class salt #lila salt #galahadwilder

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kingangelrose · 4 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 6 Recap

“Midnight”

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Reflecting back to her past, Cinder sees visions of her scrubbing the floorboards of an old worn out barn, being bullied by two boys, too weak to fight back strongly and being alone while other children play.

Cinder also remembers applying for a job as a waitress at a fancy mansion, where she met the lady in charge as well as two other women there. The lady in charges says to a young Cinder that she is to fold the laundry, clean the dishes and wax the floors enough for them to be eaten off of, as the lady leaving, Cinder weakly asked her for food, which the two women laughed at, the lady turned around and threw a bread roll to the floor at Cinder, then telling her to get started with the chores, when she turned around to leave, Cinder quickly ate the bread roll from off the dirty floor, as the two women laughed at her and left as well.

Throughout her life in the mansion, Cinder served food to the patrons there, even preparing food for them, she tries to sneak on strawberry from the cake she prepared, but one of the twins slapped Cinder’s hand before she could and took the cake away from her, then the other twin ate the strawberry off the cake. Cinder was left with little bread crust scraps and unfinished drinks after patrons finished the dishes. Cinder had many things to do at the mansion, dusting statues, unclogging toilets, and folding toilets, carrying them, even dropping plates, breaking them, with no assistance to speak of.

While Cinder was scrubbing the floors of a hallway, she noticed a huntsman in the lobby, holding a sword, which peaked her interested, but then she heard a squishing sound, and the twins tracked and stomped mud on the floor that Cinder was scrubbing, one of them says that she missed a spot and they both started laughing at her, it only made Cinder mad as she grips the brushed with a heated up hand and threw at the twins, causing a dust cloud to appear, this caught the lady’s attention and afterwards, she punished Cinder by shocking her by the neck wearing a necklace using a device, saying that she needs to learn her place, forcing Cinder to say without her, she is nothing.

Later that night, through the vents to the basement, Cinder stole the huntsman’s sword from before, while Cinder unwrapped the cloth, holding the sword, the huntsman found Cinder, saying that the sword wasn’t hers, Cinder then threw sword at him, but he deflected it with two steel weapons, causing the sword to stick to the wall, the huntsman then said that he wasn’t going to hurt Cinder, and then he rolls one of the steel weapons on the floor for Cinder to take, as Cinder charges at him with it, but the huntsman grabbed the weapon by hand and says to her that he has seen her around, saying that she’s hasn’t been given any fair treatment, but hurting those women wouldn’t make her life any better, saying that she can either run for the rest of her life or she could find another way to handle it, Cinder then says to him that he can do and go wherever he wants to, the huntsman asks her if she wants to be like him, if she wants to be a huntress, and Cinder shakes her head yes, he asked how old she was, Cinder says that she was 10, the huntsman then took the sword out of the wall and threw it to Cinder to catch and says that they have seven years to prepare her for the huntsman exam.

Since then, Cinder had the motivation to keep on going throughout the chores and abuse, as the huntsman would trained her every day in secret, as time passed on, the huntsman gave Cinder her very own sword like his and tells her in a few years, she’ll be free, which made Cinder very happy,

However, that happiness didn’t last long. The twins told their mother, who was the lady in charge, that they found Cinder’s weapon, which the lady was ready to take. When the huntsman arrived, no one was at the front desk, but then he heard a loud noise from the basement, he ran then saw the twins laid out and Cinder choking the lady, telling her that without her, she is nothing, but because of her, she is everything, the lady shocked her with all the power in the device, but she was choked out by Cinder so much that it made her dropped the device, the huntsman called out her name, and when Cinder saw him, she said that she won’t have to run anymore, but the huntsman with a sad expression then says that running is all she will do now, Cinder’s happy expression turned to anger as she was now in combat with her former mentor, as both their auras were depleted, the huntsman walked towards Cinder, but out of nowhere, Cinder used her swords to stab him through the abdomen, with one final head pat, the huntsman had died, and Cinder could only look to the broken moon with a tear in eye.

Now in the present, Cinder awakens with Emerald, bedside. Emerald then says that she was very worried about her, when she asked Cinder if she was okay, Cinder says that they failed, Emerald tells Cinder that she was hurt and that she was just trying to help. Mercury then arrives in the room and says to Emerald that Cinder has had enough help, saying that she went against Salem’s orders, Emerald then says that Cinder’s hunch was right, but Mercury cuts her off and tells her to stop protecting Cinder, saying that she doesn’t care about her, Cinder, with flare in the eye told both of them to leave and she’ll let her know when they are needed next, but Mercury says that he doesn’t have to listen to her anymore because Salem has a new role for him, and Salem wants them to the bridge where something big is about to happen, with that, Emerald follows Mercury to go where Salem needs them, while Cinder sat alone for a while.

Meanwhile, Oscar, was a bruised and battered listened to Opzin in his head, saying that it wasn’t Oscar burden for what happened to Hazel’s sister, it was his alone and Hazel’s grudge is with him alone, Oscar then says that it’d be worse if Ozpin took control and he can tell he’s holding back with him, Ozpin then says that Oscar has done so much already, and the least he can do is give him a break and get them out of there, Oscar then tells Ozpin that Salem knows she can’t take on the world all at once, so she has her followers work their way in to do it, sabotaging the heroes from the inside out, and that maybe they should do the same, Ozpin had the same idea, saying that Oscar is getting more like him and maybe they have been granted an opportunity.

Just then, Hazel arrives and grabs Oscar, pinning him against the wall, telling him that he doesn’t have the fight this war and if he tells him what he needs to know, he will be done, but suddenly, Oscar says hello to Hazel, not as himself, but as Ozpin, Hazel gets angry and calls him a coward, saying that all that time it could’ve been him that Hazel was torturing, but Ozpin let him suffer, Hazel throws Ozpin across the room and demands him to tell him how to activate the lamp, Ozpin then asks Hazel why he follows Salem all while Hazel kicks him down, Ozpins says that he knows how Hazel sees him as, but he knows what Salem has done, asking how she is the answer and why not stop her, Hazel then says that Salem cannot be stopped, saying that she is a force of nature, he has seen it first hand, Hazel then breaks off a piece of the Grimm Whale’s tooth and tells Ozpin that he sends children to their death for a cause that has no victory nor end, Ozpins then says to him that someone has to try, saying Salem is not a force of nature and that she can be fought, but before he could say anymore, Salem herself appeared, saying that Ozpin’s timing is wonderful and the “show” was about to begin.

While sitting on her throne, Salem looks upon her follows, who all bow to her, including Ozpin, who was being forced to by Hazel, Salem stands and walks across to Tyrian telling her followers that Tyrian had came in contact with Watts, saying that he has worked with Ironwood to control Penny, calling her a puppet masquerading as the winter maiden. Salem then looks at Cinder, and using her power to control the Grimm to torture Cinder’s Grimm arm, the pain and the shock reminded her about the pain she went through back then, Salem goes on to say that she chose to disobey her just to fail again, but she realizes that it was her own fault, Salem says that Cinder has fought her whole life to achieve her goal and she is holding her back instead of lifting her up, Salem extends her hand to Cinder, only for Cinder to weakly reach her Grimm hand to her, accepting her grasp, saying that she deserves so much more than she has given her.

Salem gives Cinder a mission to go to Atlas and break Watts out, she says that he can lead Cinder to Penny so she can get the maidens power and the staff relic, Ozpin then yells and says to Cinder that she’ll alone help Salem bring about the end for all of them, Hazel slams him down to the ground and lifts him up to Salem’s eye sight, only for Salem to tell Ozpin that he is already too late.

Meanwhile, Winter and Ace Ops, who were in an airship in search for Penny, get a transmission from Jaune, warning them about the massive horde of Grimm headed for Mantle, Marrow lands the airship to where Team Yang is, on the hoverbike, Jaune then asks Harriett and Winter did they get the message about the Grimm, but Harriett answered his question with a question, asking where Penny is, Jaune then says there are people in danger, and Harriett replies by saying it’s because Team Yang was selfish. Suddenly, there was a huge earthquake under Mantle and before anyone knew it there was a geyser of Grimm goo, attacking Atlas from above, the goo helped the Grimm inside of it crawl on the outer walls, and worse yet, the Grimm crawled from under Atlas and cut off the power supply to the shields, leaving Atlas vulnerable and leaving the heroes, including Ironwood shocked. Salem, with a devious smile on her face says.... “It’s time....” - Salem. The Grimm Whale then landed onto Atlas, and opened it’s mouth, letting out tons of Grimm goo, releasing all kinds of different Grimm about to reek havoc onto Atlas.

------------

What will Cinder do? What will Hazel do? Will Ozpin’s words help either one of them have a change of heart? Will Winter and Ace Ops put aside orders to help the heroes stop this crisis? Where is Penny? Will the world of Remnant come to aid Atlas before it’s too late?

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

➳ pickup lines || s.w.

summary: you’re oblivious to the fact that sam, your best friend is hopelessly in love with you. and it kills him inside because he’s been dropping hints for as long as he can remember.

warnings: none, just fluff and a cliche best friends to lovers trope :)

words: almost 2k

a/n: for @marvelsswansong ‘s late birthday present! sorry this was so late and that it’s so bad RIP i tried to write it in one go...anyway our boy sam deserves some more recognition sksksk

“Guess what this shirt is made of?” Sam smirked as he pointed at himself. “Boyfriend material.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a chuckle. “Oh, stop it.”

He slid into the seat next to you at the kitchen counter, swiping the spare muffin from your plate. “Y’know what’s on the menu today? Me-n-u.”

You just shook your head, spreading jam across your toast before biting into it. “Wow.”

“They say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth,” he cleared his throat, “well, apparently, nobody has ever been standing next to you. You are absolutely breathtaking.”

“I look gross,” you argued as you tried to hide your face with one hand, “I got three hours of sleep after helping Bruce in the labs and I’m a mess.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You always look beautiful. Especially to me.”

Even if he was joking, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at his comment.

“Oh my god, will you shut UP,” Bucky groaned. “You’re cheesy as fuck, Wilson.”

“You’re just jealous because nobody likes you,” Sam retorted.

“Ooh, shots fired,” you whispered, cupping your hands around your mouth, “need some ice for that burn, Barnes?”

“He isn’t wrong, though,” Wanda shrugged, pouring herself a mug of coffee, “the chemistry is evident here. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten together yet.”

You let out a long sigh and went back to focusing on finishing your meal, not noticing the several glances Sam stole out of the corner of his eye at you.

...

“Y/N. “

“Natasha,” you replied without breaking your concentration on murdering the punching bag in front of yourself.

“Girl, how long are you going to keep this act up for?”

You dropped your fists by your side, sighing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You and Wilson.”

“What about it?” you questioned as you began unwrapping the tape from your hands. She handed you your water bottle and you took a long sip, “We’re best friends. I don’t see anything special about that.”

“Best friends or not, he clearly likes you. I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: you’ve been the most oblivious idiot ever. If what he’s doing isn’t obvious enough, then I don’t know what is.”

“He does not. Sam’s just being Sam. That’s who he is. It’s in his nature to joke around.”

“Does he use pickup lines on me in every other sentence he speaks? No. Does he do that to Bucky? Never-”

“Because him and Bucky are rivals, and you guys are just f...”

“Just friends! Babe, you proved my point.”

“Oh, shut up...”

“If you don’t take matters into your own hands, then I will. You keep turning the poor man down and you don’t even know it. Tragic.”

“Natasha, I do not like any-” The redhead gave you her signature ‘look’, crossing her arms over your chest. Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.”

“What reason do you have to be scared? You’ve gotten shot, you’ve led countless teams into battle before, you’ve taken out aliens with the power of your fists alone. Hell, we survived the Red Room together, and you’re afraid of catching feelings?”

“What if I embarrass myself by telling him?”

“Are you nuts? He’d be over the moon if you did so much as react to what he said. Poor guy’s feeling discouraged by your poker face. Give him a chance. He’s your best friend, you don’t wanna ruin the relationship you have together.”

“Fiiiiiine.” You whined and tossed your sweaty towel at her. “Now leave me alone so I can go take a shower.”

She laughed and tossed it back. “Alright. Tell me when you’re officially dating!”

“I hate you!”

“Love you too, babe!” she called out after you as you left the facility.

...

“SAM!” you yelled from the bathroom “Get your ass over here!”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked innocently as he peeked his head through your doorway. “You need something?”

“I forgot to bring a shirt with me. Can you get mine from the laundry? The black one?”

“Yeah, of course.” You heard him shuffling around before falling silent, then there was a knock on your door. “Here. Take this.”

“Thanks,” you nodded before taking the shirt and closing the door behind you.

You looked down and let out a groan when you realized he’d mixed up the shirts and given you his instead - a V-neck you’d seen him wear plenty of times when you, him, and Steve went on morning runs together. It was ridiculously tight on him and you absolutely hated it because you couldn’t help but stare. But you didn’t like him. Definitely not.

Right?

Right.

You trudged down the hall to the kitchen, walking into to see Bucky’s and Sam’s awaiting smirks.

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow at him, “Samuel, where is my shirt?”

“Dunno,” he feigned innocence, “I got mixed up.”

“Okay.”

“I’m no photographer, but I can picture you and me together,” he sent you a finger gun and a flirty wink.

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re such a sap.”

“Y/N! Hi!” Peter dropped his backpack and rushed forward, tackling you into a big hug.

You stumbled backwards in surprise but quickly returned the gesture, ruffling his hair playfully. “Hey, kid. How was school?”

He made a face. “Sucked. I actually need your help with an assignment. I’m supposed to interview three role models in my life about stuff and Mr. Stark is in the middle of a conference call right now so...yeah.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Me? I’m not special-”

“If you weren’t special then Ned wouldn’t constantly fangirl over you to me. He always asks me if it’s true you can shoot lasers out of your eyes and hands.”

You chuckled. “I feel honored. Count me in, Queens.”

The two of you headed off to the labs together, and as soon as you left, Sam let out a loud groan, his face falling into his hands. “She doesn’t get it. I keep throwing hints her way but she doesn’t get it at all. I don’t understand. What exactly am I doing wrong?”

“Y/N isn’t an openly affectionate person. She rarely ever tells people how she feels. She usually conveys her emotions through killing her enemies and channeling all her energy into punching bags,” Bucky replied simply. “And the occasional Mario Kart deathmatch. She’s not very easy to read.”

“Even I had a hard time getting to her,” Wanda admitted. “She’s very...private. Prefers to keep her feelings to herself.”

“Does she even have any sort of clue?” Sam looked over at the young woman with a desperate look in his eyes. “Otherwise I’ve been humiliating myself all this time, for nothing.”

“She likes you, but she’s too afraid to admit it,” Steve suddenly spoke up. All heads turned in his direction. “It’s a thing I picked up from my ma when I was young. I can read into body language. And hers, well...she likes you, Sam. She’s just very subtle about it.”

Hope glimmered in his eyes. “She does? So she doesn’t mind my pickup lines?”

The super-soldier laughed. “As terrible as some of them may be, yeah, she doesn’t. I’ve seen her walk away flustered many times.”

“What do I do now?”

“You’re gonna win her over, once and for all,” Natasha declared. “And we’re making sure of that.”

...

“Y/N.”

“Pete.” You glanced over at the teenager, who had stopped furiously scribbling notes down in his notebook, “what’s up?”

“What’s up is you and Sam.”

“What about us?” You quirked an eyebrow. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The boy wrinkled his nose, “I know he likes you, and you like him. So why do you keep pushing him away?”

“Peter-”

“Y/N, I’ve known about this since we first met. So why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s trying his hardest to win you over and you’re refusing to budge! I bet he feels so bad about it.”

“Oh, God, I know...” you rubbed your forehead and let out a long sigh, “I just don’t know how to react.”

“Send a pickup line right back at him! He loves pickup lines, so gauge his reaction on that!”

“Alright...”

"Back to Chemistry! Which you two clearly already have...”

“Queens!”

“Okay, okay!” You both burst into laughter. “Okay!”

The team had all agreed on an outdoor barbecue, so you all gathered outside on the massive rooftop of the compound to eat dinner. Tony, Thor, Steve, and Rhodey were busy flipping the meat, Wanda and Pepper were setting up the refreshments, while the others were lounging around and casually conversing with one another.

You noticed Sam standing alone by the edge, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared out ahead at the horizon. He seemed to be deep in thought, but as soon as he turned around and saw you approaching him, his face lit up with a grin that the others knew he only had when you were around.

“Hey,” you offered him a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes - the early evening glow only made him look better than he already was. “Penny for your thoughts, Wilson?”

“Are you a magician? ‘Cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears,” he stated.

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you,” you replied smoothly, taking him by surprise. This was a first --

“Am I dreaming, or did Y/N just send me back a cheesy pickup line?”

“I did,” you laughed lightly, breaking into what he thought was the most beautiful sight on earth - a million-dollar smile. He’d never forget it. “How’s your week been?”

“Uneventful. You?”

Your face fell momentarily, and he felt his heart drop at the same time. “Could’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You took in a deep breath before responding. “Fury’s got me leading Team Alpha in a recon down south in the Outer Banks. Then as soon as I get back, I’m called to represent the team at a press conference about disaster relief. After that I’m stuck filing reports for a solid six hours and I end up only eating one meal that day. So yeah...it’s been pretty rough.”

“Did you make up for all that lost sleep, though?”

“A little. Compared to my typical three hours, I’d say 5 is a good enough improvement.”

“Progress is what matters. And you did that,” he nodded. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk to...you know I’m always here, right?”

“Definitely. That doesn’t eliminate our weekly Mario Kart competitions with Bucky, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

You stood there in silence for who knows how long, until he spoke up again.

“Did you know that when you smile, you can’t breathe?”

“Really?” You looked straight at him and gave him the brightest smile your face could produce.

“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see you smile.”

At that moment, all the Avengers immediately stopped what they were doing and froze on the spot.

“I think you broke her,” Peter whispered as he poked you in the shoulder multiple times, and you didn’t move. “That was smoother than butter.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out, face burning with heat - the butterflies in your stomach had turned to hummingbirds. Since when did he make you feel this way?

“Yup,” Bucky coughed, “she’s definitely in love with him.”

"I’m not in love with him, I love him. I have for a while,” you muttered so quietly that he almost didn’t catch what you said.

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be left speechless.

#the falcon and the winter soldier #anthony mackie #falcon #falcon oneshot #sam wilson x you #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #avengers oneshots #marvel fic #marvel imagines #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BAE I LOVE YOU #theavengers #sam wilson oneshot #sam wilson imagine #this is late and i'm so sorry omg #avengers #marvel #mcu

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jzixuans · 4 years

Note

Blink I beg of you to please give us more of that beautiful Roceit, Roman is so pretty my little heart can't take it I need to know what happens to these lovestruck fools.

ooh boyzee let’s see i don’t think i planned much beyond that comic but since you asked so nicely

(this is about 2.2k in bullet fic, with warnings for burns, scars, and corrupt rich people in power)

maybe let’s start with how they met because i haven’t detailed out the post-comic events yet

deceit– that’s the name he earned on the streets thanks to his charmingly deceptive personality– is making his rounds again in the bustling marketplace, looking for any unsuspecting nobles that won’t miss a ring or two

he makes eye contact with those he passes, smiling handsomely, and they can’t help but falter when they lock onto those stunning golden eyes

he’s talented like that, knowing just how to capture his victims’ attention and not have it at all

later, they’ll recount eyes like gold and a dazzling smile, and nothing else that could identify the snake in the shadows

he tips his hat and bids them a good day with a polite bow then disappears back into the crowd, his pocket giving off the slightest jingle from the coin pouches he nabbed

he weaves his way through with practiced ease and he spies a handful of guards surrounding someone wearing the rich, bright, telltale garb of the inner circles of the royal court

jackpot

as he nears his mark, he sees that they’re wearing the deep purple of the king’s advisors; one of the two youngest to ever hold such a position, but from the back of their head, he can’t tell which one

but he notices that they’re jittery, nervous even, as they complete their transaction at the table piled high with old books

deceit pretends to occupy himself at the neighbouring stall, a gentle old woman offering tea

the guards watch him, but he catches their eyes, nods, and hands the woman silver pieces from his stolen coin purse and accepts his tea

the guards resume their posts and pay him no mind

when he turns to walk away from the stall, he slides his hand into the pocket of the advisor

this is where he makes his mistake

the advisor, more vigilant than nervous it appears, catches his wrist in a vice grip, glaring down at him. then he throws deceit back into the stall, sending him crashing into the pot of boiling water

he’s only narrowly able to avoid the water reaching his eye

his body feels like fire is eating at it from all ends

as he writhes in pain he sees regret, pity, and concern flash across the advisor’s face

he’s hauled to his feet by two of the guards, the others have their hands at their hips, ready to draw their swords

around them, the busy marketplace has stilled, and they’ve gained an audience

the guard on his right rifles through his pockets and pulls out the rest of his stolen goods

one man pushes his way to the front of the crowd and points at him angrily

“he stole my wedding ring!” he exclaims

“he took my mother’s bracelet!” another cries

and soon several members of the crowd are shouting their accusations at him

the advisor raises a hand to silence them

another guard announces, “for thievery of countless riches, and attempted robbery of councilman virgil wang, you will face trial and the consequent punishment before king thomas”

the next thing he knows, he’s being muscled into a carriage, then paraded through the castle halls

“see to it that he’s treated by a doctor,” councilman virgil tells the one holding him, sending him a look that’s almost… guilty

normally, he’d be alert, mapping out the castle grounds waiting for the opportune moment to make his escape, but right now the only thing on his mind is holding back the tears in front of the guards

the doctor sweeps in with a mug larger than life, filled to the brim with what smells like coffee. deceit flinches

“alright hon, let’s get you patched up,” the doctor sighs. they tilts their tinted glasses down to take in the sorry state of his face

they hold a cool cloth to his burns and it’s like a balm. he can’t help but sigh in relief

“what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“don’t call me that”

“well if you’d give me your name, i wouldn’t have to”

“what makes you think you’ve earned the right to know my name?” deceit snaps

“is attending to your wounds not enough?” the doctor tsks as they peel the cloth away and reach for a jar of salve. their hands are rough and calloused, but still they treat deceit with a gentle touch that he hasn’t known in quite some time

deceit doesn’t answer them

“i mean i know who you are, you’ve probably robbed about of a third of the castle by now. not surprised that virgil caught you, he was probably born sleeping with one eye open. but still, a name for the legendary thief of crane would be nice,” the doctor prattles on. deceit let’s them chatter on about everything and nothing, sitting still as a rock while the doctor applies the rest of the bandages

“now i know you’re all chained up, but just in case the king let’s your hands go free, don’t go ripping off those bandages or your next visit here you’ll have to pay me by telling me your name,” the doctor warns with a wink. “good luck on your trial sweetheart, and may the fates smile kindly upon your future.”

deceit’s led out of the room by his attending guards then pushed through the doors to the main hall where he lands on his knees at the foot of the throne

the king is flanked by his advisors– deceit recognizes councilman virgil’s stony gaze– and his adoptive son, the crown prince

deceit doesn’t dare lift his head for anything more than the fleeting glance he got at them

“dante evan feng, also known as deceit, the snake in the shadows, thief of crane, you have been arrested stealing from the royal court and nobility on numerous occasions, and for attempted thievery from a member of the high council,” an advisor to the left of the king recites. he’s wearing the same purple robes as virgil– the other youngest advisor– with large round glasses and long black hair held back in a braid. his voice is cold and monotonous as he reads off the rest of deceit’s charges

“how do you plead?” he asks

deceit lifts his head, a defiant “not guilty!” ready on his tongue, but he sees virgil shake his head, and then sees the crown prince, gorgeous and resplendent, brows pinched in concern, shake his head

“you would do well to answer truthfully. in this court, honesty is rewarded, corruption will be condemned.” king thomas says

so deceit lifts his chin a little higher, and says, “guilty, your majesty, but with good reason”

“elaborate”

“i’ve seen the members of your court laugh at the beggars in your streets as they crawl on their knees to pick up every last penny. they turn their backs on those who need them. they don’t deserve their riches,” dante snarls. the prince winces under his glare

sadness paints itself into the king’s expression, but he keeps his voice steady. “and how have you spent your stolen wealth?”

“they went back to those who should have had it in the first place”

the advisor in the glasses narrows his eyes. “were you one of those such people?”

“i used the gold to buy goods from local businesses to support my lifestyle and theirs. i don’t see how that is such a crime”

the advisor arches a single eyebrow, then turns to his colleague. “councilman wang, you were a target of his today, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“he didn’t get away with stealing from me, we’ve apprehended him, and he’s already been wounded. i have faith that whatever punishment his majesty decides for him will be just.” virgil says, so low dante almost doesn’t hear it

the king sits up. he’s made his decision

“dante, in place of punishment, i offer you a chance to work for all that you stole. you will work here, at the castle. you will be given food, clothes, and a room to live in. having you here will give me the opportunity to consult your advice on how to go about resolving the corruption in my court. does this sound fair? should you decline my offer, your sentence will be to serve time in prison.” the king says

deceit wants to say no, that he’d rather die than live a life of servitude, but so far, everyone at the castle has shown him mercy, and the chance to rise up to a seat on the king’s council is too tempting to refuse. having the king’s ear will make it far easier to bring about change in the kingdom.

“i accept your gracious offer, your majesty,” he says begrudgingly, though the words taste like ash in his mouth

so he takes on the new position as one of the castle’s groundskeepers, tending to gardens, making sure that everything else is in its proper place

for the first year, he’s confined to working outside only at night, where the harsh light of the sun can’t deal any further damage to his scars (virgil, though still distrustful of him, seeks him out and apologizes a couple weeks after the trial, he only meant to push him away, not send him flying into a pot of boiling water. he’s stronger than his robes make out, it seems)

he also pays the doctor– remy dormeil, he quickly learns– regular visits for more salve and other treatment for his scars. he finds their presence one of the more tolerable ones amongst the court staff

king thomas upholds his promise and allows him to attend some of the meetings with the high council. he plans on venturing out into the smaller villages himself to survey the state of things

then the king throws a birthday party for the prince at the castle. dante’s told that he may join the festivities once his duties are attended to. so he dons the suit that has been left in his closet and makes his way to the ballroom

in the centre, virgil is being led by his fellow advisor in a vivacious dance that leaves them out of breath and full of laughter as they spin around and around each other in a twin orbit

as dante weaves through the crowd in a manner not unlike they way he used to move on the streets, he’s greeted with side eyes and distasteful remarks— many of tonight’s guests were his marks once upon a time, and no one could forget those stunning golden eyes— but he steels himself as he always has, and makes a beeline for the refreshment table, where he may hide his face behind a drink or two

on his way, he slips the bracelet of one particularly snobby woman from her wrist and into his pocket. as he accepts a goblet from one of the waitstaff, he hears a voice from behind him say, “are you going to give that back?”

when he spins around, he comes face to face with the birthday boy himself, prince roman of crane, smirking in amusement

“i mean, she probably deserved it, but she is my second cousin once removed, and i would hate to hear her complain all night at the next family dinner,” he continues. “besides, i’m sure i could find you something more your style,” he adds with a wink

dante huffs and takes a sip of his drink. “i can’t say i know what you’re talking about your highness, but i must add that i have quite expensive taste, so if you plan on following through on that promise, i hope you’re prepared to empty your coffers,” he shoots back with a grin

roman tips his head back and laughs, rich and bellowing

“give it here before you get in trouble, and i’ll just tell her that she’s dropped it. then i’ll make you a deal: if you can behave for the rest of the night, i’ll reward you with some exquisite jewelry of you own.”

dante sighs and drops the bracelet in roman’s outstretched palm

“i’ll take that deal, but only on the condition that you deliver it to me yourself. i tend the garden beneath your balcony twice a week,” he purrs in his ear, then he walks away, leaving a dumbstruck prince behind him, never mind his own blush creeping up his neck (which he promptly blames on his scars when remy sidles up to him)

twice a week in roman’s garden soon turns to three times, then four, then every night he’s slipping out to the garden to throw discarded weeds through roman’s window to relish in his dismay, to chat with him as he makes his rounds, laugh as they try to push each other into the fountain, and distract him with beautiful blooms and twinkling stars as he occupies himself in trying to steal the crown right off his head

he hasn’t succeeded yet, because every time he’s just about to reach for it, roman turns his head, ready with a witty remark or poetic compliment comparing him to the brilliance of the moon’s glow that stops him dead in his tracks

one day, though. one day

and when he does, it isn’t just be roman’s crown that he steals, but his heart as well

#roceit #deceit sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #blink writes #stupid reason au #remy's nb and logan's the other advisor present they're both dating virgil and also each other #and patton's also an advisor he's just out on business #lmao that ending was so cheesy #i just pulled their last names out of an old yearbook #liked feng because it's almost fang #remy's is just a combination of dormir and sommeil though lol #tashi #ask #everybody say thank you tashi for being super sweet with her comments that i actually wrote stuff

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eastertag · 3 years

Text

double date gone wrong

@gordonthegreatesttracy gift for @godsliltippy

—

“This is Jeff Tracy of International Rescue. How may I be of assistance?”

Scott lets out a sigh, his father has been back in their lives now for eighteen months and this never gets old. Hearing his voice every day, listening to his stories from his eight years in deep space and just being able to go to him with any problems. Scott is no longer carrying the weight of four younger brothers’ problems on his shoulders.

“Dad, it’s John”

Scott’s heart skips a beat. John is supposed to be on holiday, a relaxing two week break away from the stresses and strains of international rescue.

“Go ahead John” Jeff replies, concern deepening the wrinkles in his forehead, his eyes focusing on the screen and the boy who has just popped out of the hologram projector on his desk.

“There has been a cave in up on the north end of the beach. Gordon and Penelope are both trapped and it is all my fault. We need Scott and Virgil. Now” John insists.

Scott is confused. How did that happen?

*TB*

Twelve hours earlier

“I could get used to this life” Ridley says to John as the pair lie under a shady umbrella on the beach looking out at the waves.

John smiles happily “I know what you mean, as much as I love Thunderbird Five just lying here with you makes my whole world feel complete”

Ridley smiles back and snuggles in closer, her head resting on his chest allowing her dark brown hair to flow loosely around her shoulders.

Yeah this is definitely the best holiday she has ever had.

The pair have just drifted off to sleep when a sudden shadow falls across them. Opening one eye, John groans at the sight in front of him.

“Hey bro, miss me?” a voice calls.

“No” John replies. “Why are you here Gordon?”

“Well Lady Penelope, you know, my girlfriend and I are here for a conference with the new ocean preservation society and I have been chosen to give the keynote speech” Gordon informs him, sitting down on the sand next to him and making himself at home.

“That does not mean that you are allowed to interrupt my afternoon, I took this vacation to get away from international rescue!” John reminds him.

“I was going to offer to take you to dinner, sort of a double date. I even swiped Scott’s credit card for the occasion but if you are going to be rude…” Gordon tails off.

“Okay fine” John replies, unwilling to miss out on a free meal!

“Awesome, meet me at the Grand Hotel in an hour” Gordon replies before walking away.

John makes it over to the designated hotel and is shown to a table set for four where Lady Penelope is sat awaiting their arrival.

Getting up she greets both warmly, smiling as she gives John a welcome kiss.

“Where is Gordon?” John asks looking around.

“You expected him to be on time?” Lady Penelope says with a grin.

Ridley is watching the friendly exchange with a dark look crossing her eyes. The pair are a little too friendly for her tastes. She reaches out and puts her hand on his shoulder possessively feeling anger rising up in her chest when he shrugs it off.

Does Lady Penelope need all five Tracys for herself? Surely she should be happy with the one she did snare and leave John for her?

“How many minutes late do you think Gordon is going to be?” Lady Penelope asks.

“Ten, shall we put a bet on it?” John replies laughing.

“Okay. I will say fifteen” Lady Penelope replies, she too is laughing.

“How about you Ridley?” John asks, turning towards her.

“Finally noticed that I am still here have you?” she says snottily.

“Excuse me?” Lady Penelope replies indignantly.

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend” Ridley says, her voice is low and menacing.

“WHAT?!” Gordon calls from behind Ridley’s head.

“She was flirting with your brother” Ridley says, rudely pointing to Lady Penelope.

“She has a name” Gordon says, equally rudely as he takes his seat next to Penny. “And she can flirt with whoever she wants, one I trust her and two she always returns to eat at home!”

John chokes on the bread stick he has just bitten into. “Ugh too much information Squid”

“What do you think we do at bedtime? Play paint by numbers?” Penelope adds grinning and wrapping her arms around Gordon’s shoulders and kissing his forehead.

John turns to Ridley. “See you have nothing to worry about, Lady Penelope has been one of my best friends since I was nine years old and we spent our first summer on the Island but her heart belongs to Gordon”

Ridley isn’t happy and she isn’t convinced, but she knows better than to show her hatred and jealousy of anyone who has the ability to take John from her and knows that she has to change the subject before the afternoon is ruined.

“What is everyone having for lunch? I hear they do really good lobster here”

Gordon untangles himself from Lady Penelope’s embrace to glare at his brother. “No. John you know that I am going to leave right now if anyone even think about eating an innocent lobster. The way they drop them into boiling water, I can’t John”

John does know. Remembering the time Gordon convinced Alan to break into a restaurant in California with him and free the lobsters back into the ocean still makes him laugh. The anger of their father and the unrepentant attitudes of his two younger brothers who only declared that they would happily to it again if they got the chance. Gordon doesn’t believe in killing and eating sea food! “Lobster is off the menu” he confirms with a reassuring glance at Gordon.

“Okay fine, I will have the grilled chicken salad” Ridley says after briefly studying the menu.

“Same” Lady Penelope adds.

“I will have the steak, rare, with the beer battered onion rings and chips” Gordon orders, tapping the screen in front of him to add his order.

“John?”

John is still reading the menu, nothing appeals to him but he knows sitting and watching his brother eat steak will make him hungry!

“I will have the steak too. Well done though, I don’t want it to still be mooing!”

The atmosphere starts to thaw out once the food arrives. Ridley watches Lady Penelope closely and she finds herself relaxing as she watches her with Gordon. Gordon is the one she really wants, maybe she did get it wrong.

“Hey John, can we get another bottle of wine?” Gordon asks. They have already consumed two full bottles and all four a little tipsy.

“Scott is paying, go ahead!” John replies with a grin.

“How did you get Scott’s card?” Ridley asks.

“Simple bit of swiping and using Alan as a distraction. You know when he was first born I thought that I would hate having a younger brother, but he definitely has his uses!” Gordon replies smiling before ordering a third bottle on the ordering app.

“Tell her about the time you talked him into painting Scott’s room pink” John says laughing.

“Oh yeah that was a classic!” Gordon laughs. “He was on a mission with Virgil in the artic. Something about the northern lights, I forget exactly what happened on the mission, but while they were away I had Alan paint Scott’s room neon pink. The trick to framing someone is to make sure you have an alibi”

“How to break the law, with Gordon Cooper Tracy” Lady Penelope breaks in.

“Ooh, I can use that as the title for my autobiography!” Gordon says.

Even Ridley laughs this time.

*TB*

“Okay so you guys stole my credit card and spent over eight hundred dollars on food and wine and Ridley got jealous, I don’t understand how Gordon and Lady Penelope getting stuck in a cave is your fault.” Scott is flying thunderbird one as fast as he knows how to get to their location while John tells the story.

“I am getting to it” John says rolling his eyes.

“Then get to it faster, what happened after dinner?”

*TB*

“Where are you guys going now?” Gordon asks.

“Well seeing as you interrupted our sunbathing session we are going back to that” John replies.

“Can we come?” Lady Penelope asks. “Make our double date last all day. It would be good to get to know you better Ridley”

Ridley allows herself a smile, she is feeling silly about her jealousy of the closeness between John and Lady Penelope. “It’s okay with me” she says happily.

“Can we build a sandcastle?” Gordon asks, once they have found a spot in the sun and have spread out towels.

“A sand space station” John suggests with a grin. Ridley nods enthusiastically.

“Can we make it a competition?” Gordon asks. His naturally competitive nature which helped him win an Olympic gold medal bursting out, his amber eyes are lit up in delight.

“Okay, but what is the prize for the winner?” John asks, he too has always loved a contest and he is not about to turn down a chance to beat a brother.

“The winner gets to decide where we are going for dinner, and can have Scott’s card to pay for it” Gordon fires back.

“You’re on fish face” John replies.

While the boys negotiate the terms of the competition, Lady Penelope and Ridley lie back on the beach towels talking.

“How did you meet John?” Ridley asks.

“We spent the summer together on Tracy Island when we were kids. That was the summer Gordon tried to feed Kayo to a snake and all they all got lost in a tropical storm” Lady Penelope replies.

“He tried to feed Kayo to a snake?!” Ridley exclaims in shock.

It is Gordon who answers her. “Yeah, but she deserved it. She was being mean to Alan and no one gets away with picking on my little brother but me. Toes passed away last year, but I went to visit him as often as I could after he got injured and had to go and live in a sanctuary in Australia”

“Toes?” Ridley asks.

“Yeah, I named him toes because he doesn’t have any” Gordon replies smiling.

John stops any further reminiscing by interrupting with the contest rules. “Okay we are ready. Rules are as followed apart from construction supplies you are not allowed to purchase anything. Scott will pay for the supplies. That is the only rule!”

Gordon nods, his teeth gritted in anticipation of a battle. “Sure, lets go. Pen RUN!” he shouts pointing over to the stall selling buckets and spades, while he wrestles John to the ground. “Eat sand Johnny!”

“Get off me!” John splutters, swinging his legs round and causing Gordon to fall who laughs as he gets back up onto his feet and looks around.

“Hey, where did the girls go?” he asks John.

“No idea, if you have frightened off another one of my girlfriends Fish-Face then I swear I will feed you to a shark” John replies rolling his eyes.

Gordon grins happily. “You know that is how I want to die right?”

“Excuse me?”

Turning round Gordon and John come face to face with Ridley and Lady Penelope who are both carrying bags with buckets and spades and looking at the boys as if they have never met them before.

“You want to be eaten by a shark?” Lady Penelope asks, her bright blue eyes are twinkling with amusement and she has momentarily forgotten their contest.

“Yep. If my death has to happen, then of course I want to be shark food!” Gordon replies. “My other life ambition apart from International Rescue and the Olympics has always been to be eaten by a shark”

*TB*

Scott is laughing despite the seriousness of the situation. His brother has always been crazy, but being eaten by a shark? Really Gordo?

“John, I am only minutes away now, please skip to how they got into the cave” Scott says, as he crosses over the coastline and starts to scan the beach for his brother’s location.

*TB*

Gordon and Lady Penelope’s “Sand Mansion” is a work of art. Virgil has always been the family artist, but Gordon has his own style that is shining through as he uses seaweed and shells he has gathered to make cladding and windows for the building. He has even added a moat and filled it with water.

Sitting back to admire his handywork, Lady Penelope runs her fingers through her hair, getting her nails tangled in her wet salty locks, but she doesn’t care. Not here with the only man she has ever loved. Watching with interest as the scarred muscles on his back heave with the effort of lugging buckets of water over for his moat. She knows that he is lucky to be here with her and not buried in a watery grave. Lying back on her towel, relaxing as the sun starts to sink down below the horizon causing the sky to glow and cast the beach in a red haze.

“Are you nearly done?” she asks him, aware that he has gotten carried away and isn’t even aware that she is still here!

“Nearly. But there is something missing. We need a flag!” Gordon replies, not even looking up from his masterpiece but jumping up onto his feet.

Gordon finally turns to Lady Penelope “Come on let’s go exploring for a flag”

Hand in hand the two walk past John and Ridley’s effort: a replica of thunderbird five including a gravity ring held in place with stray sticks they have found littering the sand.

“Hey it’s pretty good” Gordon says “Not as good as ours but not a bad effort big bro!”

“Thanks for the compliment Fish, where are you going?” John asks.

“To get some more stuff for the mansion, I would invite you along but you’re the competition!” it is Lady Penelope who answers him.

Ridley giggles. Finally realising that John and Lady Penelope are just friends, she can relax. John is hers and he knows it. Reaching out across their shared towel she curls into his side her head resting on his chest, as if the last seven hours have never happened. John has never been happier than he is right now. he has the woman he loves, and his brother is finally leaving them alone!

“Hey Pen, how about in here? we might not find a flag for the mansion but it is private!” Gordon says pointing out a small cave mouth in the hill at the edge of the beach.

Penny knows Gordon well enough to know why he wants the privacy! Grabbing his hand she drags him into the cave before throwing her arms around him and planting a kiss on his forehead her hands already moving to the drawstring on his shorts as she pushes him down onto the floor of the cave, neither caring about the wet and slimy ground as they are the only two people in the world.

“We can add this to the list with Thunderbird One and the Fire Flash” Gordon says laughing. “I thought Scott was going to murder us both when Virgil spilled the beans on that one!”

“Mmm. Have I told you recently just how much I love you?” Penny replies.

“No, tell me again!” Gordon replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She doesn’t get the opportunity to speak however as there is a loud bang near by which sounds like a small explosion. Rocks rain down on both their heads and Gordon lies across Penelope desperate to protect her from harm. The cave is plunged into darkness as the entrance collapses. They’re trapped.

Finally the earth stills and she feels able to get up, only Gordon doesn’t move. His dark blonde hair has been dyed with the sticky red blood seeping from a wound in the back of his head. There is a brief moment of relief when she realises that he is still breathing but it doesn’t last long.

There are only two words running through her mind. Over and over again. Get. Help. Not wanting to move in case she causes further damage she manages to get to her phone calling the number that has never failed.

*TB*

John is starting to drift into a comfortable and relaxed sleep when he is suddenly bought back to full consciousness by Ridley’s urgent prodding.

“Wha’?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Your phone” Ridley replies, handing it over to him.

Flipping open the receiver Lady Penelope’s face pops out of the hologram transmitter. She has a cut above her right eyebrow which causes John to gasp in shock. “What happened?” he asks now wide awake.

“C-c-cave in. Gordon hurt. Help!” is all she can say, unable to stop the flow of tears.

John doesn’t ask for further details he is already on his feet, running down the beach, his bare feet burning as they beat down on the still warm sand as he races towards his brother’s weak life sign, followed by Ridley.

Coming upon the cave John let’s out a swear word he would never be brave enough to say in front of Grandma! It is buried.

*TB*

Lady Penelope is sitting on the floor, a deep cold has penetrated her heart and soul and she can’t stop shivering. Blaming herself for being so stupid for getting them into this situation she strokes a stray hair from Gordon’s face. His skin feels cold and his eyes are still tightly closed. Using the hand that isn’t stroking his hair, she takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze so he knows that he is not alone. That she has him, and she always will.

Gordon starts to squeeze back, his fingers closing ever so slightly and if she hadn’t been concentrating so hard she would never have felt them. This is the only way that he can let her know that he too is still with her.

*TB*

Outside in the warm evening air Virgil and Scott have arrived. Landing their respective Thunderbirds on the beach further away than they would have liked on John’s orders, as the ground around the cave is unstable and any further movement could cause even more damage.

Virgil drives a mole pod across the sandy terrain with Scott in the back up to where John is standing with Ridley.

“I have worked out the weak spots, use the drill through here” John tells them not even stopping to greet his two elder brothers. “I have spoken to Lady Penelope and Gordon has a serious head injury. You have to be careful in there”

“How did this happen?” Virgil asks. Looking around at the devastation on the beach, which has quickly been evacuated, and has been left covered in litter and stranded towels and beach umbrellas.

“According to the chief of police, there was a car crash, and the fuel ignited and caused the vehicle to explode. Luckily everyone was out of the car when it happened, but the shaking of the ground caused a minor earth tremor, which caused the cave in” John replies he knows that it was more complex than that, but he doesn’t have the time to go into details.

Virgil nods his face focused and determined on the task ahead of him. slowly he starts to drill at the solid rock formation in front of him, nervously he jumps at every noise, concern about further rock fall. The drill with the path John mapped for him makes the progress through the rock smooth and steady and in less than two minutes he is through.

He finds Lady Penelope still cradling Gordon’s head and to his relief his brother is awake.

“V-V-Virdy” Gordon stutters his whole body is shaking with the cold.

“No don’t speak, I will have you out of here and nice and warm and toasty soon just don’t move okay fish”

“Okay I w-w-won’t. Want to be e-e-eaten by a s-s-shark” Gordon mumbles, his eyes are glassy and unfocused.

Scott climbs out of the mole and starts to pull out a foldable stretcher. “Okay Fish you need to keep as still as possible, but this is going to hurt a lot” Scott tells him, as he slides the two halves into position under his body and clips them into position, apologising when Gordon lets out low painful moans as his feels his big brother manoeuvre his arms and legs before strapping him into place, leaving him feeling like he is in a straight jacket “Ready?” he asks but doesn’t give him time to answer as he nods to Virgil and they both pick up either end of the stretcher and place it on the flatbed attachment to the mole and lower the cover to keep him safe before they turn around and leave the cave which so very nearly became their tomb.

*TB*

“Jeff, they’re all going to be fine. Gordon is made from steel and you know he has been through worse. Stop fretting, Scott, John and Virgil know what they are doing” Grandma tells him, having watched her son pace the living room in frustration at not being able to help for the last hour. She too is terrified that something awful has happened, the longer the communications remain stoically silent.

“Why did I let him go? I should have known agreeing to let him go on that double date would end in disaster, from now on no dating off the island” Jeff decrees.

“But dad, I don’t even have a girlfriend how can I meet someone if I am not allowed of the Island?” Alan asks.

Jeff pauses his pacing and turns to look at his youngest son. “You are far too young to worry about that, you’re only eight”

Alan splutters indignantly. “Dad I am nineteen!” he reminds him.

Jeff is stopped from any further “decrees” when Virgil calls in. “Virgil, finally.”

“We have them dad, we are heading back to the Island. Prepare the sick bay” is all Virgil says before ringing off.

“You heard your brother, go” Jeff demands on Alan who scarpers from the room followed by both his father and Grandmother.

*TB*

Twenty-four hours later Gordon is sitting up in his bed propped up on several large white fluffy pillows, but he is in no pain thanks to a steady drip of morphine trickling into his arm. All four of his brothers are sitting in armchairs around him. there is a thick white bandage wrapped around his head, and he has been expertly stitched by Virgil and Grandma.

“Is this the first time I have fractured my skull?” he asks Virgil.

“Yeah, but it is not your first concussion so you young man will be remaining in that bed until I am satisfied that you are okay” it is grandma who answers him.

Gordon pouts briefly before he brightens up again as his sunny personality never allows him to remain down for long. “Can Penny stay with me?” he asks hopefully.

“You did say no more off the island dating dad” Alan reminds him.

Jeff eyes up his two youngest who are both giggling. “Sure, but you aren’t staying in the same room!”

“That’s okay we will just sleep in the cave in the cliff edge!” Gordon replies grinning as all four of his brothers simultaneously give him a face palm.

“I think on that note, we will let you get some rest” Grandma says herding his brothers out and leaving him alone where he snuggles down under the blanket and lets out a large yawn, the deep fatigue he has felt for the last day is bone deep and he can’t keep his eyes open for long.

Out in the sun Lady Penelope is sitting by the pool with Ridley, the small cut above her eyebrow has been covered with a plaster with dinosaurs on, which were chosen by Alan. “No offense Ridley, but I am never double dating with you and John ever again!”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 1965 #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #John Tracy #jeff tracy #lady penelope #easterTAG #submission

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wolfywordweaver · 4 years

Text

Here's my contribution to @transmagesweek day one! It started off as a "prom" prompt with a side of "coming out" but somehow that got flipped around. XD

Enjoy!

I was pretty well terrified as we made our way across the Great Lawn and towards the lit up building where the Leaver's Ball was currently in full swing. Even from this distance I could see people dancing out in the patio, the fairy lights twinkling daintily above them. Penelope wasn't saying anything, but I knew that it was only because there really wasn't anything to say.

The gates hadn't opened for me and she needed to let me in.

Swallowing thickly, I wondered if I should even be here or doing this. Sure, it had seemed completely reasonable up to five minutes ago, but now I was second guessing myself. It was something I hadn't really ever had time to do until the last few months.

Funny how losing all your magic and purpose in life will do that to you.

Watford wasn't an option after the death of the Humdrum and the Mage, and I spent the remaining months of Eighth year on the Bunces' couch. Every interaction with the Mage had been analyzed. Each fight with the Humdrum and its monsters replayed. Years of struggling with my magic observed from every angle of memory, and even all my interactions with Baz came under the light of introspection.

I couldn't talk about most of this with my therapist. She was a stranger, and as well meaning as she was it wasn't like I could just flip the switch of my upbringing. I still mistrust, am nervous, and the nightmares continue.

The flutter of my heavy wings remind me that many things are different too. The dragon wings and the devil tail have been a confusing albeit enlightening addition to my life. They were really what set me on the journey towards this evening, hours thinking about them drawing my attention to something else that seemed so obvious that it was actually embarrassing that I hadn't noticed it before.

Being the Chosen One will do that to you.

Keep you from noticing things, like how badly you want to snog your roommate or how the discomfort in my skin could mean more than just the sheer pressure of magic trying to spill out of me.

It had started with the musings over my wings and tail, something that I thought would go away since I no longer had magic, but the idea began to sprout even more after a comment from Penny.

"When have you ever fit into any box, Simon?"

She had meant it in consolation, not as something as earth-shattering as it had been. But there it was, a truth that I didn't even know I was looking for.

All my life I had been put into boxes by others. Orphan. Foster kid. Normal. Mage. Chosen One. Hero. Good.

Male.

When I'd talk to the Mage about feeling strange in my skin, about not feeling normal or comfortable, he'd always tell me it was because I was the Chosen One. Different from everyone else and full of more magic than any Mage in the history of the world. It stood to reason that if I was no longer the Chosen One and didn't have any more magic, I still shouldn't feel that way.

But I did.

My wings and tail oddly helped with that. They were in the way all the time and completely impractical, but they were a physical representation of something that I knew in my heart. I may be a Normal, but I wasn't...normal. When I flew over the tree tops at the nearby park, magicked invisible by a nervous Penny, it felt good. It felt free. My tail whipped around loosely and I felt at peace.

The euphoria lasted after I landed and until some girl passing me and Penny mentioned that I made a cute boyfriend. She was apparently some Normal friend that Penelope had back in elementary and Penny quickly corrected her, but I felt the bubble of joy pop.

Boyfriend.

I wasn't even appalled at the idea itself since me and Penny being a couple was complete tosh, but I was still bothered for days. Bothered enough that I brought it up to Penny. Three weeks of discussions that I could barely get out the words for and one weekend with a worried Baz later and I finally brought a printed internet article to her.

"This," I stated nervously as I held the paper out. "This is kind of what it feels like."

Brown eyes studied me for a moment before she took the pages and quickly read over them. "This is...a trans person's experience."

"I know," I whispered, tail whipping behind me in agitation and my wings tensing. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all, Simon." Her calm response eased my worry a bit and when she finished the article, Penny looked right up at me without disgust or fear or anger. "Are you a girl?" she asked curiously. My immediate balking startled a laugh out of her before drawing one out of me. "Nope, okay. What are you thinking, Simon?"

A shrug was my immediate response, but I sat next to her on the floor and stole one of her crisps before deciding that words were needed.

"I don't know yet. I've read things online about non-binary and genderfluid and even neopronouns, but it's all a bit much."

"Gender is weird," she agreed. "But it's not like you have a due date to figure it all out. Take your time."

After another thoughtfully chewed up crisp, I asked the question that was really bothering me about the whole situation. "Do you think...that is...maybe Baz won't...he doesn't have to..."

She looked at me in surprise. "You don't really think that a guy who's been obsessed with you for literal years is going to suddenly lose interest because you're having a gender identity crisis, do you?"

I shrugged again. "He's well gay, yeah? Gay guys only like boys."

"And Normals don't ever have magic," she chuckled while gesturing a hand at me. "Simon, have you ever fit into a box properly?"

It was like a sign from heaven, and I lit up immediately. The words that she had used to feed that niggling little seed of doubt were now being used to comfort me again, and it felt even more true now than it did a couple of months ago.

So here I was, a Normal walking through the Watford School of Magicks. A Normal whose large red wings were on full display thanks to Penny's careful magicking of a gauzy sleeveless shirt, and my tail sticking out of a slot that had been altered in a pair of high-waisted slacks we found at the thrift store.

"You don't have to walk me all the way inside," I offered quietly. Penelope had made it clear that she was going to leave as soon as I got there, and I didn't want her to feel awkward or badly walking all the way out on her own.

"It's okay," she huffed, her eyes fixed on the large wooden door we were approaching. "I want to catch a glance at Basilton's face."

A blush bloomed on my freckled cheeks and she laughed with an ease that filled my fond heart.

"You think he'll like...this?"

I didn't look much different besides the unusual appendages and clothing I'd never been seen in before, but somehow I felt another step closer to knowing who I was.

"Simon, he'd like you even if you were covered in merewolf blood and gore."

"Ugh, gross."

"He'd make you shower first, but yes, even that wouldn't put him off." Taking a deep breath and nodding, I moved to grab at the door handle before she stopped my hands. "No, wait. Let me."

Stepping back, I was surprised to see her put her ring hand up and hold it towards the door. "Wha-?"

"Baz isn't the only one who deserves a dramatic entrance," she smirked. "Open sesame!"

And like magic, a wind kicked up at the same moment the doors flung open, and my wings instinctively spread out to feel the breeze roll over them so that I wouldn't be accidentally pulled back. Everyone's eyes turned towards me, but before I could get flustered and embarrassed I caught sight of wide grey eyes and a mouth hanging open in shock.

I'd made Baz speechless.

#Wolfy writes #SnowBaz #Simon Snow #transmages week 2021 #transgender #non-binary #Penelope Bunce #coming out #gender identity crisis #introspective #not very angsty #hopeful ending #prom #leaver's ball #transmagesweek

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 12)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of human trafficking

----------

The next morning Daphne was woken by a knock at her door. She let out a groan as she rolled out of bed. Her hair was down and every which way and she was in some pyjama shorts and the t-shirt she kind of stole from Matt. It was soft and cozy and she deemed it great to sleep in. She squinted at the clock, seeing it was 8 am before she swung the door open. Foggy stood there, coffees in one hand and a bag of something in the other. He flashed her a sheepish grin as he took in her very sleepy state.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said apologetically.

"It's 9 in the morning, Foggy. What did you think I'd be doing?" She asked incredulously.

"I kinda forgot you have your own work hours," one toothy grin later and the pair were sitting in her living area in their usual spots. She was alternating between sipping her mocha that he'd gotten her and nibbling on the croissant. She couldn't stay mad when he'd brought two of her favourite things to her.

"Any reason you're here?" She asked after a moment of weird silence. He glanced at her and shrugged.

"I can’t come visit one of my friends after a while?" It was a valid answer but his weird tense voice alerted her to his lie. She squinted at him and he squirmed under her gaze. It didn't take long before he cracked and she idly hoped he fared better when he was in court.

"Matt said I should check on you. And for the record I have missed you and wanted to come by anyway," he blurted out. She felt herself straighten up a little and clenched her hand around the coffee tighter.

"He told you?" She asked with a deathly cold tone.

He frowned and looked at her like she'd sprouted another head.

"I don't know what you think he told me, but I told him I missed seeing you and he suggested I should come and check in. Should he have told me something?" He asked, looking worried. She shook her head rapidly and downed the rest of her coffee. It was still a little hot but the burn distracted her from her thoughts.

"Did something happen?" He prompted softly. She wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave her alone. She would have if it was Matt. But this was Foggy and she couldn't even be a bitch to him if she tried. She blew out a breath and forced her muscles to relax. It did make her feel better that he genuinely seemed to not know what she was talking about and Matt hadn't just gone around talking about her behind her back. She'd rather talk to Foggy about it herself.

"I went to see him yesterday and he helped teach me some moves. In case I got attacked again. It went surprisingly well and I learnt some stuff. But then…" she trailed off with a sigh, tossing the coffee cup into the trash can near the sofa.

"What happened?" He asked carefully.

"I freaked out. He was teaching me how to get out of some holds. But then his hands were around my throat and I couldn't breathe," she started reluctantly.

"He choked you?!" He yelled. She blinked in surprise by his outburst before shaking her head vigorously.

"No! That's the thing. He didn't even apply pressure and suddenly I'm back with Keiran being strangled. It was ridiculous, Foggy. I knew Matt wouldn't hurt me and I just flipped out," she lamented, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

Foggy was quiet for a moment before leaning forward a little in his chair. When she looked at him all she saw was concern and understanding.

"You went through something traumatic, Daphne. You need time to process it, there's nothing ridiculous about how you reacted," he soothed. She scoffed and shook her head.

"I hate that it's still bothering me. I hate that I'm not over it yet. I thought I was stronger than this," she huffed.

"It's not about strength. If that's the way you wanna look at it then focus on the fact you got away. You went through an ordeal. Yet you got the upper hand and survived. You got out of there and because of you, that lunatic will get what he deserves. The mental stuff… that'll go away in time. It won't be forever," he murmured. She blinked at him for a moment before a small smile graced her face.

"You're a good friend, Foggy," she said sincerely. He beamed a smile at her and pretended to dust his shoulders.

"I know, it kind of my thing," he smirked.

"Mhm. Daredevil's sidekick," she teased. He looked thoroughly offended and it made her laugh.

"I am not the sidekick. That's what I want you to believe. Really I'm the mastermind behind the whole thing," he snorted. She smiled ruefully with a shake of her head.

"So…" he started again.

"I don't wanna talk about my feelings if that's where this is going," she interjected. She’d had enough of that for now.

"It's not. I was just wondering if you lashed out at Matt after all that. It would explain why he's been moping this morning," he quirked a brow at her and she tried to look innocent. He just blinked at her and this time it was her turn to cave.

"Fine. I was a grade A bitch to him and I do actually regret it. But I doubt that's why he's moping because he really doesn't like me anyway," she put her hands up in mock surrender. Foggy gave her a look and crossed one leg over the other.

"He doesn't like you? Even though he's saved your life, cooked you food and helped with training even if it did end badly?" He asked sceptically.

"Hey dude, he's your friend not mine. He's weird," she smirked at him.

"You're both insufferable," he groaned before standing. She didn't move from her comfy place on the couch and he shook his head like he was disappointed with her.

"You're not even going to see me out? Where have your manners gone?" He asked with mock hurt.

"I never had any," she grinned. He chuckled, leaning down to her spot to give her a quick hug before walking to the door.

"I'm tired of asking you both this, but maybe be a little nicer next time you see him. You're so similar and you'd actually get along if you tried," he chided, opening the door.

"Yes, dad," she saluted with a raised brow. With one last laugh and shake of his head, he was gone.

She was glad he'd come by. She'd gotten used to his visits and how easy it was to talk to him. She meant it when she said he was a good friend and she had no idea how he put up with Matt all the time. She spent the rest of her day in her pyjamas, watching Netflix and looking at her emails. She had a few potential clients and she found herself hesitant after the whole ordeal with Mr Lee. But she tried to tell herself that was different. It had turned into more than she expected but she'd done plenty of cases in her years as a PI and something like that hadn't happened. It wouldn't happen again.

Soon enough it was dark outside and she was considering going to bed. She was thinking of seeing Brett in the morning and seeing if anything was going on with the Italians and their upcoming meet. She just wanted to do something to keep her occupied. As she was closing her laptop, a knock sounded at her door. Her first thought was Foggy. Maybe he'd come to scold her some more for her attitude with Matt, even if it was 11 pm. But she looked through the peephole anyway as she got to the door. It wasn't Foggy. Instead there was an old lady she didn't think she recognised.

Opening the door, she looked at the woman warily.

"Ms Weaver? Private investigator?" She asked with a worried look. She instantly felt on guard. She never gave out her address. Clients would contact her via emails or phone and she would go to their house. The fact this woman knew where she lived and who she was made her suspicious.

"Who's asking?" She bit out. The woman sniffled, glancing up at her.

"Detective Mahoney sent me. My… my grandson's missing, please will you help me?" she pleaded. Brett's name put her at ease although she was confused why he'd be involving her. It wasn't like she didn't take missing cases before but it was rare and usually the parents or carers would seek her out on their own, not be sent by the police. Most of the time they were teens out partying, looking for a way to rebel and piss off their parents.

"Please, Ms Weaver. He's only 11. He's been missing for 3 weeks and the police… they can't find him. It's like he's a ghost," she broke down crying. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest watching the woman so heartbroken but her words smacked her in the face. A ghost. When it came to a missing person, that never meant anything good. It usually meant trafficking and usually there was little chance of finding the person. It made her feel sick.

"Come in," she murmured, opening the door wider to let her in. The woman looked grateful, wiping her eyes as she stepped inside. After Daphne shut the door, she padded over to her couch, gesturing for the woman to sit in the armchair usually reserved for Foggy. She walked over and sat down hesitantly, clutching her bag on her lap.

"Brett told me to give you these. It's his case file, all the reports and any leads they had," she murmured as she rummaged in her large purse and pulled out a file. Daphne took it, opening it and briefly flicking through it before closing it again.

"And don't worry about payment, whatever you need, I can try to get it," she insisted. Daphne pursed her lips before shaking her head.

"No," she frowned. The woman looked panicked, as if thinking she was turning down the case and shook her head desperately.

"I mean I don't want money. I'll take the case but I don't need payment," she clarified softly. The old woman looked relieved and Daphne had a feeling she would have struggled to give her anything. She wasn't about to take a penny off this woman. Especially when she wasn't sure if she could really help her.

"I need to be transparent. I'll take the case but I can't promise I'll be able to find him. I'll try my best but… I don't want you to get your hopes up," she sighed. She didn't want to hurt the woman anymore than she was clearly hurting, but it would only hurt more if she wasn’t up front about it. The woman nodded, hand over her mouth as she gave her a watery smile.

"Your best is all I can ask for," she said sincerely.

"I'll look it over, see what I can do and I'll talk to Brett too," Daphne smiled softly.

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me. That boy is my life," she murmured.

Daphne stood, the woman following suit as she walked her to the door. After more tearful thank yous that Daphne felt like she hadn't earned, she was once again alone. Deciding to abandon sleep, she stayed up all night with coffee as her only companion. There wasn't much to the file really, and that had been where police were struggling. There were the basic details about the boy, James Johnson, and the account of when his grandmother last saw him. He’d gone out on his bike to the park near his grandma's apartment complex where he lived with her and just never came back. Gone in the wind with no reason or no sightings from anyone else.

By the time 9 am rolled around, she’d scoured the internet for anything, any sightings, any news, but nothing. There weren't even any media covering his disappearance which was strange to her. She showered and got dressed, her patent boots and jeans along with a dark grey t-shirt and black zip up hoodie. She pushed her unruly hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head, case file stuffed in her backpack and her camera around her neck.

She made her way to the park where the boy last went. She wasn't even 100% if he even made it there but it was a start. It was quiet in the park, no kids there this early and cold. She looked at it through her camera lense, snapping some pictures for later, but nothing was standing out to her. With her camera still poised, she turned around and through her lens she saw something that made her tense. The Yellow Lily. It was the same Chinese restaurant the Italians and Chinese would be meeting in. Meaning the Chinese mob were somehow linked to this specific place. She remembered how not that long ago the Chinese were trafficking people, using them to incubate their drugs. She felt dread settle deep in her bones and she took off running.

She was breathless by the time she reached the station but she didn't know if Brett had made the connection. He would have found out about the meet after the boy was missing and it wouldn't have been fresh in his mind. But she knew this was more than a coincidence and if she was right, the boy needed to found ASAP and he probably wasn't even far. She burst into the station like a bat out of hell. She wasn't expecting to see Ms Johnson, especially talking to Matt, Foggy and Brett. Matt was already glancing in her direction, no doubt sensing her a mile away. She didn't have time to think about their last encounter.

"Oh, Ms Weaver! I was just telling these nice gentlemen about you helping me with my boy. Free of charge too," she smiled warmly at her. Daphne's chest was heaving as she tried to calm herself down a little.

"Do you have news?" The older woman answered hopefully.

"Uh… no. I just need to steal Detective Mahoney real quick," she gave her a fake smile trying to act like everything was okay. She didn't want to worry her.

"Jesus, Daph. Did you sleep at all?" Foggy chimed in. She'd almost forgotten he and Matt were there. She glanced at him and shook her head. With a desperate look to Brett, he seemed to sense it was urgent and ushered her into one of the interrogation rooms.

"What is it?" He asked warily. He sat down but she was pacing like crazy. The coffee she'd been drinking all night hadn't helped her jitteriness.

"I think the Chinese took him," she lamented, she couldn't hide the concern in her voice if she tried. Brett frowned with a groan, wiping a hand over his face.

"Shit. You sure?" He sighed. If she was right, things just got way messier.

"Not 100%. But the park he was last at, it's right across the street from the Yellow Lily restaurant. And who's meeting there later this week? The Italians and the Chinese," she said with a shake of her head.

"This is… fuck, this is bad," Brett muttered. She agreed with him.

"Look, I'll talk to my guys, put some feelers out and see if we can get more info before we go in guns blazing," he explained.

"Don't tell her... Ms Johnson. Don't tell her yet," she implored. He gave her a nod, they both knew this was bad and there was no need to worry her more. Not until they knew for sure what was happening.

"See, this shit is why I sent her to you in the first place," he gave her a weak smile as he stood, clapping her on the back. She almost rolled her eyes. She hadn't done anything special but she supposed fresh eyes and the new news of the meet had helped.

When they walked out of the room and back near the desk, Ms Johnson was gone and Matt and Foggy were talking to the person at the desk. She made a beeline for them.

"I need to talk to you," she said firmly, aiming it at Matt but not caring if Foggy followed or not since he knew about Daredevil anyway. Matt glanced her way with a tense nod, holding her arm much like he did with Foggy as they made their way out front. Foggy stayed put where he seemed to be talking about a case with the cop on the desk. Once out in the sun, she ushered them over out the way to the side.

"The Chinese?" Matt asked with a frown. She was glad his radar ears picked it up so she didn't have to go over it again.

"Might be. My gut says it is. When you're out doing your thing, could you ask around? See if anyone’s heard or seen anything? Or if they know anything about the Chinese and their trafficking operations?" she looked at him imploringly but it wasn't like she'd need to beg. He nodded resolutely.

"I'll see what I can find out. Someone's gotta know something," he affirmed. She breathed a sigh of relief. Between her, the cops and Daredevil, they had to find something at some point. Even something small that could lead to something bigger.

"Thanks," she breathed, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

"We'll find him, alright?" He asked, trying to be reassuring. A bitter scoff left her lips though as she looked off at nothing.

"What? You don't think we will?" He probed.

"I hope we will. But trafficking… Do you know how many trafficking cases I've managed to crack? None. Because they covered their tracks too well. And the Chinese, they're fucking pros at this. So I want to find him, Matt, I really fucking do. But I can't give myself false hope and assure myself that we will," she said angrily. Matt's jaw ticked a little before he looked away from her with a nod. There wasn't much else to say. She'd just have to wait and see if he or the cops turned up any leads and she knew it would chip at her sanity.

"Ms Johnson thinks you're an angel. Wouldn't shut up about how nice you are. Almost told her she must have been talking to an imposter," he mused, trying to lighten the mood. She gave him the side eye and her lips quirked up slightly.

"I'm a lovely person, just ask Foggy. It's just you that's the problem," she retorted. He smiled ruefully as he glanced down at nothing.

"Well Foggy seems to think we're basically the same person, so that means the problem is actually you," he smirked. She snorted, half a mind to shove him down the steps and see if he'd actually keep his act up and fall or if he'd ninja his way out of it. She did appreciate him making her smile though. Maybe it was time she swallowed some of her pride.

"I uh… I'm sorry. About the whole… thing that happened the other day. I was angry at myself and embarrassed and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Don't get me wrong, you're an asshole and most of the time I mean to be a bitch. But you were just helping me and it was uncalled for. I also appreciate you not telling Foggy what happened," she murmured softly. She couldn't look at him though. It felt uncomfortable and she wasn't used to apologising much. He seemed genuinely shocked she even said it before he smiled softly.

"It's alright," he replied. Now that awkward silence was back where they didn’t know what to say. She hated when this happened.

"I'm gonna head off. Let me know if you find anything?" She asked as she took a step back.

"Will do," he nodded.

"Oh and let Foggy know that if he wakes me up at the ass crack of dawn again, I'll murder him," she shot a toothy grin his way and he chuckled with a nod. She hopped down the steps trying to ease her mind of the worry for the young boy. There wasn't a damn thing she could do but wait now. Waiting was always the worst part.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

Text

Quasi-Confession

Alastor visits @hiss-and-vinegar Sir Pentious in the boiler room and then shit hits the fans.

Listen. Some of y’all are following for the relationship drama, right? For the soap opera action? That good good telenovela shit? This is the thread you want to read. This is the thread you’ve been waiting for. It’s got what you want. It’s got what you crave. It’s got this:

Sir Pentious moves back, out of the way suddenly, staring at Alastor like he's a different person. Was this even possible? He.... "ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH ME, ALASSSTOR???"

Brace yourselves for an emotional roller coaster.

Sir Pentious

Local snake is waiting in the boiler room, which is still pretty difficult to navigate. Watch your head, you might bump it on a pipe or cable. Or some slab of metal. Sir Pentious has an easy time moving around in here, CLEARLY you are just clumsy. He's flicking about on his phone, sending another message to Alastor to let him know where he can be found.

He sends his usual tophat :3 emoji along with it.

Alastor

It’s mere seconds before Alastor replies with a “🎶 ✔️✔️✔️” and only a few more seconds after that before he’s arrived, knocking on the door before letting himself in with a cheery “Hello~!”

He COULD have just teleported straight into the room rather than in front of the door. But he remembers how that went for his double. He’s not risking it.

Sir Pentious

Ah! There's that familiar radio voice. Penny's head swivels towards the source and he leans back against a workbench, flicking his tongue as he waves to the deerman.

"GREETINGSSSS, ALASSSTOR! GIVE ME YOUR HAND! OH, AND, I WANT TO SSSSEEE THE MUG, AS WELL."

Alastor

"Of course!" He offers over the travel mug with stacked layers of unhappy sinners depicting the rings of hell printed around it. "All of Hell, just for you, as well deserved. And mercifully free of any sad excuses for watered-down tea."

Although he was briefly tempted to fill it with hot water and claim it was one-second tea.

“Left or right?” He holds out both hands anyway, Sir Pentious can take whichever one he wants. (Also check out that bling on his left wrist. He’s got that watch Sir Pentious stole for him.) “You know I’m always eager to lend a hand, but I didn’t think it was going to be so literal!”

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious reaches over to take the mug, purrrrring as he looks it over. It is absolutely just a travel mug, but it was an offering! He is going to put it on his workbench.

Oh, and he does notice that watch! A large toothy grin spreads upon his face, and he takes hold of Alastor's left hand. That's more common for rings, isn't it?

The ring from Valera is clearly visible on his own hand. It shines in the warmth of the boiler room's lights.

Sir Pentious adjusts those multiple lensed glasses of his to get more accurate measurements, careful yet at the same time, rough. He squeezed at finger joints and pinched skin... He could be taking measurements for all kinds of things at this rate.

"GOOD TO SSEE YOU'RE GETTING USE OUT OF THE WATCH, ALASSSTOR! HAS IT HELPED YOU?"

Alastor

He got a horrible rasping cobra purr! He'd steal every tacky gimmicky mug from every cheesy souvenir shop in Pentagram City if he thought they'd earn him more purrs. (He didn't *buy* the mug, obviously.)

“Yes indeed!” He’s enjoyed admiring it. And listening to it tick. Sometimes he even checks the time with it, although he’s generally got a razor sharp internal clock. A big help. “And quite a handsome accessory it’s made, too! But then I knew I could trust your sense of style.”

He tries not to get overly lost in the sensation of his hand being manipulated. Those were such PRECISE measurements... By this point he has no idea what in the world Sir Pentious needs these measurements for, but considering the quantity he’s taking... After a moment of hesitation, Alastor asks, “How precise do these measurements need to be? Would taking my glove off help?”

Sir Pentious

The question stirs him, and Pentious tilts his head in thought. "WELL, NO... I CAN BUILD ANYTHING *UPON* YOUR GLOVE." There's that grin again, "I'VE NEVER SEEN YOU WITHOUT THEM! IT WOULD BE *INVASIVE*, WOULD IT NOT?"

Alastor

What in the world is he building? Alastor’s current best guess is a weapon. Some kind of mechanical robot glove. Something that needs fairly precise but not skintight dimensions. “It would only be invasive if you *demanded.* I’m freely volunteering it! But, no, I wouldn’t take my gloves off around just anyone.”

Sir Pentious

Tongue flick. Once. Twice. Sir Pentious takes the other hand, checking for any inconsistencies.

"UNLESS YOUR HANDS ARE GROTESQUE IN SSSSOME WAY, I NEED NOT SSSEE THEM! MY CURIOUSSSITY ISS NOT PIQUED!"

Is it weird to offer that? He's going to think on it idly later.

Alastor

“They’re shockingly normal,” he reassures him. “So if your measurements don’t need to be that precise, there’s no need for it!”

He’s not quite sure if he’s disappointed or relieved. Relieved, probably. He said it wouldn’t be invasive, but in truth he would feel more than a little exposed with his ungloved hand in someone’s grip.

Sir Pentious

He finally seems to finish up, and Penny scribbles down all the measurements he'd taken, with a barely legible scrawl. This was not the writing he used for letters, this was definitely his engineering scrawl.

"THERE WE ARE!! ALL FINISHED!!" Prr prr prr prr, "WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO NOW?"

Alastor

He’s studying Sir Pentious’s handwriting off and on as he scribbles, until he stops writing and Alastor focuses directly on his face as he speaks.

Oh—happy sounds. Alastor automatically echoes them in pulses of static. “Well—a fine question! What’s there to do down here?” He glances around the boiler room... then settles his gaze on Sir Pentious’s throat. “How about you give me that bow tie you promised me weeks ago, hm?”

Sir Pentious

Oh the eyes on his neck get a squint out of him, but the words that follow are more reassuring.

"OH, THAT OLD THING? I'D NEARLY FORGOTTEN."

Luckily he kept a bunch of random things in his jacket, and he began to fish around for it, "YOU SURE ARE GOOD AT REMINDING ME ABOUT THINGSSSS THAT HAPPENED WEEKSSSS AGO, ALASSSTOR."

Alastor

He opens his mouth to snark back—something about *having a working memory*—before he realizes Sir Pentious is referring to Alastor’s referring to Broadway. His mouth shuts with a click of his teeth like a dial turning off. “Hm.”

Sir Pentious

He's right, Sir Pentious' working memory is generally tied to the immediacy and things that pissed him off. The serpent continues digging around before he retrieves his old bowtie, holding up the accessory and looking at the yellow pendent in the center. He holds it up as if he were dangling a piece of meat, "HERE YOU ARE, OLD CHAP. THISSS ISS WHAT YOU ARE SSSEEKING, ISS IT NOT?"

Alastor

He feels a little bit like a dog being prompted to beg for a morsel. “If that’s what you’re offering!” He holds out his hand, palm up, for Sir Pentious to drop the bow tie in. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that if he tries to grab it, Sir Pentious is going to jerk it back.

Sir Pentious

*He would be right because Penny is that bitch.* But instead he drops it down into Alastor's waiting hand, "I HAVEN'T WORN IT SINCE I REMOVED IT WHEN I PUT ON YOURS. BUT I HAVE KEPT IT WITH ME, SSO! SSTILL WARM. NYA HA!" That's a weird thing to say. He won't think on it anymore.

Alastor

Alastor won’t think on it either. Which is to say, he will think on it A WHOLE LOT, RIGHT NOW, just not on the implications of the fact that Sir Pentious felt the need to point it out.

He tugs off his current bow tie with a flourish and slides the new one in place. “I’ll have to start wearing a little yellow so it doesn’t look out of place.” As he ties the bow tie, he casts a critical gaze down at his red-on-red-with-red-trim outfit, looking for something he can switch out or somewhere he can accessorize.

Sir Pentious

He's wearing a lot of yellow and black himself, so the red bowtie does have a bit of an out of place look, but to Sir Pentious, it was the prize that mattered. He had something of Alastor's, and those who were in the know would be able to recognize that much. A symbol, a victory, perhaps. Spoils and all that.

"A LITTLE YELLOW WOULD SUIT NICELY! MIGHT I SUGGEST A BLACK COAT WITH YELLOW PINTRIPES? NOT THAT YOU COULD SSSTEAL MY LOOK IF YOU TRIED! YOU'D NEED MORE EYESSS FOR THAT."

Alastor

He’s not quite so bold to ask if Sir Pentious has any old coats he’s willing to hand off—although the thought crosses his mind. “Ha! And look like one of your minions? Not if you don’t plan on hiring me full time.” He finishes with the bow and drops his hands, tipping up his chin to show it off. “Am I straight?”

Sir Pentious

A SHARP laugh, and Sir Pentious gestures to Alastor fondly. "NOT AT *ALL.* BUT YES, YOU LOOK FINE!! VERY STRIKING."

Alastor

He blinks a moment as he tries to work out why he’s being laughed at; then huffs. All right, fair enough. “Good to hear!” He stows away his recently-removed bow tie in the collection he’s been carrying around in his pocket.

Sir Pentious

What a shit eating grin from Pentious, who leans in suddenly VERY close to Alastor, much larger than the twig of a man.

"YOU MAKE IT SSOUND LIKE YOU'D ENJOY WORKING FOR ME! BEING BOSSED BY BETTERSSS? NYA HAHA, I MEAN THAT *AFFECTIONATELY*, OF COURSE. YOU'RE NO SSSTRATEGIST."

Alastor

He doesn’t lean back an inch. He just tips his head back, smiling up at Sir Pentious. “I don’t have betters.” And for a moment, his smile is very menacing. There are ways of teasing he’s fine with. That’s not one of them.

But the moment passes. It was, after all, intended affectionately. “However, I also don’t have ambitions! Not any more glamorous than entertaining myself. And I won’t lie, I’ve never found better entertainment than assisting with someone else’s grand ambitions. The drama! The pathos! It’s why I’m here, after all!” He gestures vaguely above them, indicating the hotel.

Sir Pentious

While others might realize their teasing fell flat, Sir Pentious remained in that competitive space, looking over The Radio Demon's wide, dangerous grin. He was no stranger to danger, not at all. Though Alastor did not consider him a rival, Sir Pentious couldn't help the sheer thrill he felt from the possibility of the two at one another's throats. Part of being in Hell, you know.

He follows Alastor's vague gesturing and makes a face, "YES, WELL, EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU DON'T ACTUALLY *CARE* ABOUT THE BETTERMENT OF *SSS*SINNERS. YOU ARE ALWAYS IN IT FOR YOUR OWN ENTERTAINMENT. BUT IF YOU WORK FOR ME, A MAN OF YOUR POWER, I WOULD PREFER IT IF YOU *DID* CARE ABOUT WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO!" Though he doesn't get too uppity about it, preferring instead to adjust his bowtie, "YOU'VE PUT IN A LOT OF EFFORT TO HELP ME WITH MY AIRSHIP, SO, I SHOULD HOPE IT ISSSSN'T A LONG CONFUSING GAME."

Alastor

A game? At that, Alastor draws back a little. He still thinks—? Well, of course, still. Of course still. It’s only been a few months. He’s going to be proving himself for years. He’s going to be proving himself for DECADES. “Oh, I get most of my entertainment from schadenfreude, that much is true—but with the hotel, I’m hoping to get my schadenfreude by watching it crash and burn. Around YOU, I get my schadenfreude from all the people you’ll be crushing on the way up.” A dark smile—almost a conspiratorial one, as if they’re discussing secret plans rather than goals that Sir Pentious regularly announces at top volume. “There’s very little interesting about man challenging the devil and losing—it’s what everyone expects, isn’t it? It’s the inevitable, the status quo. I can watch an overlord fail at that any day of the week. But man OVERTHROWING the devil—a mere mortal, rising up from the mud, becoming something greater than one of the very celestial powers that govern the universe—now THAT, that IS a show worth seeing! I want to see hubris rewarded!”

His eyes are glowing brighter as he leans closer to Sir Pentious. “And all of us who are so strong because of our postmortem superpowers, we dealmakers and bargainers—I don’t think any of us stand a chance. We’re just borrowing a measure of the power of infernal demons and fallen angels. A moon can’t outshine the sun whose light it’s reflecting. The only one who can do it must be a master of the one completely human power of creation: invention. It’s you or nobody. And ‘nobody’ is a terribly boring story.”

Sir Pentious

Their faces are practically together, these weird old men. His hood floops outward, and he stares at Alastor with all of his glowing red eyes. Menacing man. Sir Pentious cannot hold back the shrill cackle of glee that escapes his throat. "OF COURSE, YOU ARE CORRECT, ALASSSTOR! I BROUGHT INNOVATION TO THIS INFERNAL CESSPOOL-- EVERYTHING THAT I HAVE, THAT I AM, I BUILT IT MYSSSSELF, I WORKED FOR IT!!! THEY WILL ALL REGRET LAUGHING AT ME ONCE MY FACE IS *EVERYWHERE.*"

He loved to be praised, so much. Look at him preening again, it gave color to his patterns and his ego hungered for more. Power coursed through his veins at the mere thought of being better than everyone else. His blood would taste sweet with ambition.

Alastor

“If one knows where to look, in one way or another your influence is visible in every building down here. You’ve already shaped Hell! Anyone who doesn’t recognize that is an idiot!” And that kind of technological prowess MATTERS to Alastor, whatever the TV/satellite/computer/Internet bozos think to the contrary. He lived a life on the technological cutting edge. “Once your face is everywhere, if you command it, they won’t be AROUND to regret it anymore.”

And oh, he can’t wait to see it.

In the meantime, seeing Sir Pentious with his ego freshly fluffed is nearly as good a sight. For a moment Alastor swears Sir Pentious looks more *vivid.* Alastor has to force himself to lean back before he does something stupid.

Sir Pentious

He's polishing his talons on his suit, then admiring them as if they were freshly painted. Sir Pentious *purrs*, looking over to Alastor without turning his head, and all of his eyes follow suit.

"MM. YOU KNOW JUSSST WHAT TO SSSAY. I'VE MISSED HAVING YOU AROUND, MY FRIEND."

Alastor

“I’ve missed *being* around.” There’s an edge of desperation to his tone before he reels it back in. Professional charismatic radio host voice. “Everyone else down here is so boring. You can’t imagine!”

Sir Pentious

"HA!" He wiggles his talons as he begins to slither around, over and under various pipes and cables, maneuvering his lengthy body with ease and fluidity. "OH, I ASSURE YOU, I CAN! I HAVE BEEN HERE MUCH LONGER THAN YOU, ALASSSTOR. THERE WAS A TIME I USED TO BE EAGER TO ENCOUNTER NEW ARRIVALS, TO SSSEE HOW THE WORLD HAD CHANGED AS TIME WENT ON, BUT THEY BECAME SSO MUCH MORE **BORING**. TRUE CLASS AND SSTYLE HASS BEEN LOSST TO THE LIVING WORLD, YOU UNDERSTAND."

Alastor

"True enough! Everything's so... *cheap* these days." He watches Sir Pentious slither around. "Somebody's got to show these sinners some proper class and style. And if you want something done right..."

Sir Pentious

Glowing eyes in shadows, anywhere that's not lit up by the extra lights Sir Pentious has added. It's a stark contrast from light to shadow, and he beams, coming up behind Alastor, though carefully. He doesn't touch him, "YOU NEED ONLY LOOK TO SSSIR PENTIOUS! HA!!"

Alastor

He glances back over his shoulder without turning, beaming back just as brightly. "And truer words were never said."

Sir Pentious

Just two guys being dudes.

"ALASSSTOR, IT REALLY IS INTERESTING THAT YOU DON'T WANT *MORE.* YOU REALLY COULD HAVE IT ALL... OH, BUT THEN WE REALLY WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO CHAT LIKE THIS, EH? WHAT A SHAME! CAN'T HAVE THAT."

Alastor

“Can’t have that!” He turns to lean back against a table so he can see Sir Pentious directly again. “I COULD, but I don’t WANT it all. I’m an entertainer, not a... a mad scientist warrior king. YOU could have a stupendous career as a circus contortionist, but I doubt you’d be any more content with that than I would be stuck on a throne making tedious decisions about infernal infrastructure and Hellish cabinet posts. I don’t want subjects—I want an audience.”

His smile twitches toward a grimace. He mutters, “I wouldn’t mind more of *that*—but I certainly wouldn’t get it as a conqueror.”

Sir Pentious

"WELL, I COULD GET YOU AN AUDIENCE! ONCE I'VE TAKEN THIS EMPIRE FOR MYSELF, THERE SHALL NOT BE ANY EMPTY SEATS TO WORRY ABOUT!" He beams, spreading out his arms, "AND THEN! OH, WELL, WE'D HAVE TO CHANGE THINGS UP EVERY FEW YEARS, SO IT DOESN'T BECOME BORING."

Alastor

"Would you?" Alastor brightens again. "I mean, I know you COULD do that, no doubt there—but would you really?"

Sir Pentious

Look at him smiling. He's smiling so much at Alastor. "WHY, OF COURSE! IF WE ARE WORKING *TOGETHER*, THEN I HAVE NO ISSUE WITH THAT. IT WILL BE *FUN* WATCHING WHATEVER YOU DO TO THEM!"

He flicks his talons this way and that, slithering through the pipe maze again. *Enrichment.*

Alastor

His eyes glitter at the thought of it. A captive audience, provided by no less a personage than the ruler of Hell. True, he’d rather his audience listen to him out of adoration rather than fear—he’s an entertainer, after all!—but they can work out the details later. He was adored before. All he needs is to be listened to again, to be given a chance to prove himself, and he’ll be adored again. He’s sure of it.

“I’m counting that as a promise!” Oh, he’s excited just as the THOUGHT of it. He taps a foot on the floor as some bouncy Harlem stride plays in the background under his words. “If you’re irritated now at me for remembering things you did weeks ago, you’re going to hate me when I remind you about this promise in a few years! Ha!”

Sir Pentious

A cackle from the rafters as Sir Pentious slithers around up there.. He finally hangs upside down in front of Alastor with that large familiar grin.

"OH, I AM CERTAIN I WON'T HEAR THE END OF IT! BUT I CANNOT IGNORE THAT YOU HAVE *HELPED* ME. I DISLIKE BEING INDEBTED TO ANYONE, BUT I CANNOT PRETEND OTHERWISE!"

He tips his hat, which is miraculously staying on his head.

"I DO NOT SHAKE HANDS WITH YOU, BUT I COULD PUT IT IN WRITING."

Alastor

“Oh, that’s entirely unnecessary!” Pause. “But I’d love it if you did!” He scoops up the nearest blank-looking piece of paper and a pen, steps sideways into an unexpectedly large shadow, and somehow emerges from it next to Sir Pentious, standing upside-down on the ceiling next to him. “So it’s to be a formal agreement, then, is it!”

He looks all dramatic standing there upside-down for a grand total of three seconds, before his clothing remembers gravity and the tail of his coat fwoofs down to dangle around his head.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious watches him standing upside down, and he smirks, waving a dismissive hand. "A *PROPER* CONTRACT, ALASSSTOR. I AM A BUSINESSMAN! NO BLANK PAPERSSS HERE. I DIDN'T RUN MY FACTORIESSSS ON BLANK PAPERSSS."

Alastor

“Well, you need a blank paper in order to write the contract on it, don’t you?” He offers over the paper and pen, go on.

Sir Pentious

"I CAN'T WRITE THAT *HERE*, AL! WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR??" He huffs, "I WON'T FORGET, AND IF I DO, YOU WILL REMIND ME!"

Alastor

"Not if you're going to get on my case about reminding you." He drops the pen and paper. The paper flutters slowly down to the ground. "It was a nice sentiment, all the same."

Sir Pentious

Oh look at Alastor getting huffy. Sir Pentious frowns, slithering down to retrieve the paper and pen, "DON'T THROW A *FIT*, I AM NOT GETTING ON YOUR *CASE.* I SAID WHAT I MEANT! YOU WILL REMIND ME, I AM COUNTING ON YOU."

Alastor

Only very lightly huffy; and more for the drama of it than anything else. Still, the idea of being *counted on* makes him perk up. Doesn't that sound all official.

He melts back into the shadows to reappear again next to Sir Pentious. "Then I guess I'll just have to pester you about it sometime!"

Sir Pentious

"YESSS, THAT ISS THE POINT. I HAVE A LOT OF THINGSS TO KEEP TRACK OF. ONCE I AM PROPERLY IN MY AIRSHIP, AND IT ISS OFF THE GROUND, I WILL SET UP THE CONTRACT AND TYPE IT UP ALL NICE. SCRIBBLING IT DOWN ON SSOME BLANK PAPER HARDLY BEFITSSS A HELLISH GENTLEMAN SSUCH AS MYSELF." He gestures to Alastor's suit, "YOU MIGHT ENJOY A PATCHWORK SSTYLE, BUT I DO NOT! NONE OF THAT 'MAKE DO' ATTITUDE, SSSIR."

Alastor

"I happen to like handwritten legal documents! It makes them feel important. Like the Declaration of Independence." He pauses and thinks that over. "That doesn't carry much weight with you, does it? All right, typewritten it is! But I expect to see a draft before you ask me to sign. I have to make sure the terms are equitable, after all."

Sir Pentious

He leans all close to Alastor again.

"OH? EQUITABLE HOW SSSSO? WORRIED I'LL SSSIGN YOU INTO FORCED LABOR, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

"Worried you'll let me off too easy," he says dryly. "What if you do something like say you're going to do this big favor for me on the basis of our current friendship and my prior services rendered? What about future services? What if I never do anything else for you ever again, but this contract still holds you to helping me out? No no no, I won't stand for it! You're offering me an enormous favor, my friend, and I intend to earn it properly!"

Sir Pentious

... Oh. Usually people were expecting Sir Pentious to be the one to pull the rug out from others--this was something he... Somehow didn't see coming at all! Alastor wanted to make sure that he was held to the right standards. Don't mind Sir Pentious, he's just going to be having Feelings over here, looking away. Friend...

"YES, WELL. GOOD! THEN. IT WOULD BE A BIG MISSSSTAKE TO TRY TO MAKE ME LOOK THE FOOL, ALASSSTOR!"

Alastor

"I wouldn't dream of it!" He hesitates; then decides, well, all right, as long as he's saying friendly things already—and knowing Sir Pentious keeps asking for directness—

"Truth be told," he says, casually examining his claws like he's only half paying attention to what he says, "if I ever offered to shake with you on something—and I know you've already said you'll never shake with me, that's fine, but IF I did—that's what would be on the line. No souls. Just an unbreakable guarantee that I can't—betray you." He leaves off the *again* and adds a shrug, like it's no big deal. "I don't think you'll ever want to shake even under those conditions. But, all the same, I thought I'd let you know! Since you keep bringing it up like you think I'm just waiting for some clever opportunity to trick you out of your soul!"

Sir Pentious

There's a sound in his ears, like *ringing.* Sir Pentious could swear he could feel his heart pounding in his ears but only briefly. What was *that* sensation? Generally, he felt aches in his chest like that with Valera when she said something *particularly* caring...but this was Alastor. This was probably just another example of a good friend, and what good friends do. Good friends don't betray one another! Yes, of course.

But he couldn't let it go that easily, his brow creased as he looked the deerman all over. "*WHY?*" It was extremely likely that this Alastor had betrayed the Pentious of his own Hell before. Penny was certain every Al was guilty of that at this point... But why try SO hard? Why be so afraid of angering him? Could guilt alone be such a driving force? It felt like there was a very obvious piece of a puzzle missing to him.

"WHY ARE YOU... WHY DO YOU CARE *SO* MUCH?"

Alastor

"Because you're thirty-three percent of my circle of friends—and the only one of them I viciously, violently backstabbed!" He laughs shortly, and his stomach twists and churns as they delve back into that topic that he always feels lurking just under everything they say.

"I don't know how bad things went in your universe, but here—I... it's no exaggeration to say you might well have been ruling Pentagram City by now—maybe more—if not for me. And if we're going to be friends again, we—I know you still don't trust me fully. You can't. You shouldn't! *I* know I'm not going to betray you again, but am I just supposed to say 'take my word for it'?

"On the other hand, a bargain that means I can't betray you is *cheap* for me—in fact, it's *absolutely free*—because all I'm doing is promising not to do something I wasn't going to do anyway! But for you, why—it would give you a little reassurance without your needing to trust me a lick more! And if it costs me nothing but gives you that much... Speaking as a professional dealmaker, that's a bargain if I've ever heard one."

Sir Pentious

Well, that settled that, didn't it! For friendship. Alastor said it himself! And he made quite a big deal (pardon the pun) of it too. He always talked so much, you'd hardly want for a conversation with him around.

.... Except. That feeling gave Sir Pentious some *concern*. It was still lingering, not as strongly but it was there. He's thinking over something the talkative deerman had said...

".... NOT *ME.* I WAS BETRAYED, YES, AN ALASTOR BETRAYED A SIR PENTIOUS, INDEED.... BUT IT WASN'T *ME*." That was something that had always stuck around, lingered in the pit of his own long intestines. The serpent wrung his hands together, unconscious of his own idle fidgeting.

"IF THE ONLY REASON WE ARE FRIENDSSSS ISSS BECAUSE OF *RESIDUAL* GUILT, ISSNT THAT BOUND TO FAIL, TOO?"

Alastor

He shrugs and nods, granted, yes; they’ve both been content to treat each other as substitutes, even though each knows the other is different. Haven’t they?

But he doesn’t get a chance to address that before a question demands his full attention. “*No!*” The question horrifies him enough that he takes a step closer to Sir Pentious, hands half raised, like he’s bracing to try to stop him from swinging around a knife. “No no no, I—w—if I was motivated by avoiding guilt, then I’d be avoiding *you!* I’ve felt more guilt in the last two months than I have in the last twenty years! No. We’re friends because I *want* your friendship.”

He lets out a rattled laugh. “And you can see how well I’m proving that! I try to reassure you, it makes you worry about something else, now I have to re-reassure you.” He gestures between the two of them. “*This* is why I’m trying so hard. Because I can’t quite get it right yet.” He holds up a finger. “*Yet.*”

Sir Pentious

He's startled by the other's sudden movement, and his hood opens up. Alastor's insistence, that earnest way of speaking. It made that feeling even *stronger.*

He almost expected Alastor to grab his hand, but that didn't happen. Sir Pentious rubbed at his arm.... He's feeling guilty, too. For being so paranoid, skeptical. *Afraid.* It was a lot to think about.

"YET..." He looks away. "... I. AM SORRY, THAT I AM. LIKE THIS."

Alastor

Alastor blinks, then leans back against a work table again. Taking in the apology, turning it over in his mind. It feels like needles lining the inside of his ribs, stabbing when he tries to inhale. “For—for what, a little healthy suspicion? I didn’t get you and you didn’t get got by me, but—your suspicion is more than justified. I don’t hold it against you.” The corner of his mouth twitches weakly. “I’m amazed you’re giving me a chance at all.”

Sir Pentious

A little healthy suspicion? Sir Pentious makes a face, digging his talons into his arm further, scratching now.

"IT *ISN'T* HEALTHY, THOUGH. IS IT." This was a.... Decidedly more vulnerable topic, but this was the boiler room. No one came down here anymore, not since Penny set up shop.

"I AM NOT HEALTHY, NOT IN THE LEAST."

Alastor

Alastor tenses as he sees Sir Pentious’s talons tighten on his arm. He wants to reach out. Instead he just grips the edge of the table with both hands, claws digging into the bottom of it.

“If I were the one in your sh...” No shoes. “... If I were standing where you are? I would never so much as *speak* to a Radio Demon again. No matter what dimension he’s from or what promises he makes. So... I know you've said your mind is unhealthy, but *that suspicion*, I don’t think *that's* unhealthy.” He leans a little closer, not quite getting off the table. “If *you* think it is, I won’t know how unless you tell me.”

(He’s dimly aware that the radio distortion modulating his voice has been ebbing and flowing like waves on a beach—but like the tide going out, steadily declining. He can’t remember the last time he spoke so plainly for more than a sentence or two.)

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious doesn't lean back this time, but he's scrunching up more. His skull is *abuzz* with activity, and what feels like pressure on his brain.

".... YOU WOULDN'T, AND YET, WHEN I BECOME SSSO SSSKEPTICAL, I CAN... *FEEL* LIKE I'VE FAILED. IT TURNSSS ME AGAINSSSST THE ONES I." Love. "THE ONES THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME. AND I." Lose them.

He can't even finish his sentence, dragging his talons down his arm, a grounding technique that was more self punishing than helpful.

Alastor

Alastor automatically guesses what the first word left unsaid is. His heart leaps into his throat. He swallows it back down; the word isn’t meant for him.

He can’t watch that clawing anymore. “Maybe I can’t help—I think I’d make a poor alienist—and I can’t speak for everyone else important to you” (he feels daring just including himself on that list) “but, for what it’s worth... I’m hard to break and harder to scare off.” He’s gonna. Just. Carefully reach out, and put a hand on Sir Pentious’s wrist. Hi, can he take that? He’ll even let Sir Pentious claw up his arm instead if he wants. It’s fine if not, he’ll just wait and see.

Sir Pentious

The second his wrist is taken, Sir Pentious' eyes widen *considerably.* There's that rush in his chest, a dull *aching.* The puzzle piece was just out of reach, he could *feel* it.

He doesn't even fight it, even as his mind screams at him, *you failure, you absolute failure, look at you! Might as well offer your neck for the chopping block, you miserable failure.* He *winces*, though it isn't at Alastor. Stressed out tongue flicks, he's having a hard time maintaining eye contact.

".... YOU. PROMISE. YOU HAVE TO *PROMISE* ME THAT YOU WILL NOT... LEAVE." With every second that passes, it is like an eternity of ache in his chest. Similar to when Valera held his hands, rubbed them and spoke to him so softly. Grounding him.

Alastor

Alastor flinches when Sir Pentious winces, but Sir Pentious isn't pulling back, so Alastor isn't either.

"I promise." His voice is so blatantly, embarrassingly human. "I promise that I won't leave." He'd seal it in magic if Sir Pentious would let him. Instead, he just squeezes a little more firmly. "I'm your friend and your ally. I promise."

Sir Pentious

*But why?*

Why did Valera have so much patience? Why did Alastor not hate him? By all rights, he should infuriate them, but instead, they always reached out to him...!

... His eyes snap open wider than ever, and he feels like the last puzzle piece slips into place.

"ALASSSTOR. ARE YOU...?" OH, boy. He wants to be wrong, right now, more than ever, he wants to be wrong. If he *isn't* wrong, then... All of those moments, all of those playful snuggles and schemes.... Well they weren't just friendly, were they?

He's looking very pale, suddenly, a grit teeth sort of look. He's realized it. The reason why he stuck around was the same as a Valera's.

*Love.*

Alastor

Something went wrong. He can see it. "What?" What did he do? What did he say? Was it—?

Is his hand too close to Sir Pentious's? He jerks his hand back. "Sorry! I'm sorry, that was—It's a unilateral promise, not a bargain, I wasn't trying to shake on it."

In his heart he knows that's not the problem. But he can't see what the problem is—unless it's the worst.

He hopes it's not the worst.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious moves back, out of the way suddenly, staring at Alastor like he's a different person.

Was this even *possible?* He.... "ARE YOU IN *LOVE* WITH ME, ALASSSTOR???" Even if the deer said no, Pentious wasn't sure he'd believe him this time. Everything they did together, the way Alastor had warmed up to him, sooner than most others ever would consider...!

He liked him *like that.* And Sir Pentious, lonely Sir Pentious, had never questioned it.

Alastor

His stomach lurches. What did he say wrong? What pushed it over the line? He tries to deny it but all that squeezes out of his throat is static. After months spent trying to reassure Sir Pentious that he DOES value him, that he IS his friend, that he would NEVER betray him again... denying the accusation now would be too much a rejection of everything he's tried to prove.

He sinks down on a bench. He didn't say anything wrong. He said what Sir Pentious needed to hear him say. This was unavoidable.

He tries to give the same response he did to Valera—*no, I'm not; just with someone who looks the same*—but words catch in his throat as he suddenly realizes they're not true anymore. He knows this Sir Pentious too well to still see him the same as his own; but that's done nothing to break his fever. *Damn it.* He twists his hands together and stares down at them, defeated.

Just a few minutes ago, they were...

But Sir Pentious is never going to touch his hands like that again.

Sir Pentious

Of all the things Sir Pentious had expected to come out of this meeting, he couldn't have predicted that Alastor, the Radio Demon, was in love with him. This explained *everything...* Eager for friendship? Wanting so desperately to be around him, to not anger him, to spend as much time as possible?

Love was the *only* answer that made sense. Friendship was difficult enough with the serpent, but love! Oh, this was so much to process. He could only stare down at the deerman. For once, for *once* in his entire unlife, he'd never seen the other so *silent.* Unable to speak, unable to say a thing. Static choking up from his throat, and Sir Pentious found his hands at his own, remembering how it felt to be unable to speak. What to even feel? What could he feel?

Shouldn't he be laughing right now? Feeling so *powerful* for being the object of *Alastor's* affections? This should be making him feel unstoppable, but instead it felt like daggers plunged into his back, dragging down. Every breath wrung with *pain.* Sir Pentious' teeth grit, and he glared, flexing his talons out toward Alastor.

"I LET YOU *TOUCH* ME, I THOUGHT WE WERE *FRIENDSSS*, BUT YOU WERE JUSSSST USING ME, WEREN'T YOU!?" There it was--that hatred for himself bubbling up, paranoia clawing its way out of his throat, "YOU SSSSAY YOU WANTED TO BE MY FRIEND, BUT YOU WERE TRYING TO-- YOU JUSSSssT WANTED--" Wanted what? Alastor hadn't *lied,* he just hadn't been forthcoming. But here, Sir Pentious felt wave after wave of feelings that he couldn't describe. Why did he feel so *betrayed?* "FROM WHENCE DID IT **BEGIN???** HAVE YOU ALWAYSSS BEEN LUSssssTING AFTER ME!? I AM *ENGAGED*, ALASSSTOR!"

He was starting to be so cruel, and he could taste his own venom on his tongue now. Why did it matter this much?

Alastor

He can already see how this is going to end: with Sir Pentious throwing Alastor out of his afterlife completely; with Alastor alone again; with Alastor having merely been taunted for two months with the hope of getting back the best friend he's ever had, before being rewarded for his audacity in daring to think he'd found a cross-dimensional loophole around his rightful punishment for his betrayal.

He can save them both time by apologizing for inconveniencing Sir Pentious, walking out the door, and never coming back.

"I'm sorry." Start there. But he can't let go. (Isn't that the whole problem?) And he can't be the one to turn his back on Sir Pentious. If Sir Pentious throws him out, so be it—but this time, at least, it's going to be for the truth, not for what Alastor leaves Sir Pentious to assume. "For—for what little it's worth—lust never factored into it. And I never—I do—we *are* friends. I've never thought otherwise. I'm not trying to come between you and your fiancée. I've always—I've tried to let you take the lead, to... to decide when and how to touch—*because* we're friends, I—it was your right to set the limits."

Sir Pentious

*For what little it’s worth … we are friends.*

These few words were enough to send stabs of agony through his chest, and Sir Pentious wasn’t much for subtlety. His eyes widened again, and he clutched at where his black heart ought to be. He shouldn’t be feeling enraged, betrayed at all! He shouldn’t be! *Penley, you idiot, what are you doing? So obsessed with yourself, you’re making this all about you, too. Looking for reasons to be alone again, aren’t you?*

But it DID hurt. It *did* hurt. There was something here, something that hurt beyond all measure–if Alastor truly wanted to be his friend, if Alastor, of all damned sinners in this inferno of suffering, truly loved him… wasn’t that a lie? It wasn’t him that he loved, it was… a different man. The same man, but different.

Rage wet his eyes, and he brought up a sleeve to wipe at them–*no*, do not *cry* in front of ~~*your enemies*~~ *anyone else* you damned old fool. Least of all The Radio Demon! Do you want to get laughed at???

*He wouldn’t laugh at me. He is my friend.*

*HE IS NOT* YOUR *FRIEND. YOU ARE A* SUBSTITUTE.

With that wicked quickness the King Cobra is known for, Sir Pentious closes the gap between them, his hood flared out as he bares those yellow fangs of his, “DON’T **FUCK** WITH ME, YOU BASTARD! HOW COULD I SET LIMITS WHEN I THOUGHT ALL IT WAS WAS SSOMETHING WITHOUT SSSUCH FEELINGSSS INVOLVED!? THOUGHT YOU COULD GET A LAUGH OUT OF ME, THE LONELY INVENTOR!!! I WAS JUSSST A SSSSSUBSSSTITUTE FOR YOUR SSSSERPENT. IF YOU HADN’T **FUCKED THINGSSS UP** BACK THEN, THEN WE’D NEVER HAVE BECOME FRIENDSS!!!!”

Oh, he was going for the jugular now. All of that pain was coming out now! And though he’d wiped his eyes, the tears brimming were unmistakable. Lonely Sir Pentious was crying.

Alastor

Alastor leans back when Sir Pentious looms over him, gripping the edge of the bench as he fights down the automatic instinct to defend himself.

*If you hadn't fucked things up*—He flinches like he was slapped. Sir Pentious is right. He's right, and Alastor knows it, and they're the same words he's told himself for the past fifty-four years; but they hurt so much more in that voice. They hurt so much more seeing the fury and pain and tears in Sir Pentious's eyes. The last time he saw Sir Pentious like that, it was among the ruins of his flagship, begging Alastor to explain why he'd just destroyed everything they'd worked for.

And yet, Sir Pentious is *wrong.* "You—think I've been laughing at you?!" He lets out a high, nervous, hysterical laugh—NO that is the EXACT WRONG PANIC REACTION for this situation—he claps a hand over his mouth with the sound of a radio dial firmly clicking off and just shakes his head *no* until he's sure he can control his voice.

"Maybe we wouldn't have met—and maybe you started out as a substitute for mine, but—you aren't now! I know you, not well enough, but well enough to see that the things I value in him *do* exist in you, and where you differ, I value you on your own merits! And if mine slithered in right this second, said all was forgiven, invited me onto his airship, and promised everything I've ever wanted—it would hurt to leave! I'd *miss* the picnics, sitting around watching ASMR videos, sparring with you, figuring out how to cook for you—even how you *breathe.*" He's digging himself the deepest grave Hell's ever seen. At least let Sir Pentious hate him for the right reasons.

Sir Pentious

That was most assuredly the worst possible panic reaction, and it would have ruined whatever it was Alastor was trying to do here–had he not continued. Sir Pentious stared, watching him explain himself, watching him dig a hole so deep he might as well have ended up in Heaven after all.

Perhaps that hole would have made Penny hate him more, but instead… he felt his chest ache further, and he grabbed at his hood, *pulling* it *harshly* to compensate for the pain, to try to keep himself grounded. Alastor was listing off things about him, things that he and Al had done together. Things that were somehow special between the two of them.

Picnics and silly little videos and making ridiculous jokes about things nobody else would care about nor have reference for. Alastor had been the closest in years for someone that Sir Pentious could have related to—he wanted so badly for that companionship, that *understanding* with another demon in Hell who *really understood him.* And now, more than ever, he really had it.

Valera would often list things that Penny did, talked about how much she loved him. The way he is always making some kind of sound, his mannerisms for talking, the way he cares so deeply for her… Every time she’d do so, he could feel his chest swell with such love and passion. It was always too much for him to handle in those moments… words always failed him, he could think of naught to say except “Thank you”, which scraped the bare minimum of how he felt about her.

And Alastor… he had begun to do it, too. It was obvious now, to Sir Pentious, that Alastor had since stopped talking about things that likely *any* Genius Inventor Supervillain had done, and rather had began to talk *specifically* about him. It made him feel seen in ways only Valera had made him feel before.

They *loved* him, and he *hated* himself.

One hundred and fifty years of self loathing

was having a difficult time combatting all of this **love.**

Sir Pentious leaned back, and attempted to speak–he pointed a finger at Alastor, fangs bared as he prepared to let loose into another barrage of insults, of *cutting* words… only to find himself *unable* to speak.

He tried again, and again, to no avail with each attempt. Here he was, forcibly speechless, as panic began to steal him away. His eyes widened further, and he began to scratch at his throat, *furiously ashamed* with this total failure he was showing himself to be. *How pitiful, Sir Pentious. And you wonder why █████ left you. You can never be counted on when you’re needed most.*

Alastor

It's a barbed wire-wrapped sword through his heart when Sir Pentious's expression of fury melts into panic and he starts clawing at his own throat.

"No, oh no." He automatically reaches up, grabs Sir Pentious's hands, and pulls them down. His hands feel like they're holding red hot irons.

"*I'm sorry.* I shouldn't touch you. But I'm not letting you hurt yourself on my account." It's the first time this whole conversation he's felt like he sounds like himself, albeit an unusually serious version of himself. "If you need someone to claw up, let it be me."

Acid blood, Sir Pentious had called it; brain-storms, they were called in Alastor's time—temporary bouts of madness brought on by distress too great for a rational human mind to endure. And Alastor is the one who pushed Sir Pentious into this one. His mind races as he tries to figure out how to fix his damage. (Stupid question. He doesn't fix it. He knows that. Didn't he himself tell Sir Pentious he's better at knocking things down than setting them back up? Didn't Sir Pentious call him a wrecking ball?)

Sir Pentious

They might as *well* have been red hot irons–Sir Pentious’ eyes were glowing brightly, wide as they were. At this proximity, Alastor would be able to feel the tremor running under that grip–He tried so hard to mask it, but he was trembling from the intensity of his emotions.

Still, that *smile.* It wasn’t quite as strong as he knew Alastor was capable of, but the fact he could see it at all cut him to ribbons on the inside. Sir Pentious, in his haze of self loathing and fear of being a joke, took that smile as confirmation despite Alastor only saying the opposite. How many times must he say it before you *believe* him, Penny?

So close now, and he could easily pull away–but instead, he sought to cause pain. This was his way of coping, and he always managed to hurt the ones he cared about. Why should now be any different? He had bitten Valera when he was like a feral beast, and here he would tear Alastor apart in just the way he wanted. After all, he *offered.*

His hood flaring out and a monstrous *hiss* escaping his throat, Sir Pentious lunged his head forward, burying his fangs into the base of Alastor’s neck, right where it met the shoulder. He easily penetrated the flesh, sinking in to the gums as his eyes carried *madness.* Not only had he bitten him, but it was the same place he’d bitten him before, two months ago.

Alastor

He gasps in with an awful feedback noise, pain shooting across his neck and over his shoulder. On some level, he isn't surprised. On some level, he realizes, he was hoping for this.

He doesn't know if Sir Pentious intends it as his forgiveness, his penance, or his punishment.

And between the pain and the uncertainty and the knowledge that even though it's agony he's still not worthy of it—he finally breaks. He bursts into noisy, crackling sobs, his voice hardly audible under the distortion, shaking so hard he might not be able to sit up if Sir Pentious himself wasn't inadvertently holding him up by the shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" He clings desperately to Sir Pentious, he can't stop himself. He's talking fast, words spilling out, trying to get it all out before Sir Pentious stops listening to him for good. "*I'm sorry.* I know you hate how I feel, I hate it too. I'd shut it off if I could! It's why I ruined everything and *ran*, because I'm a *coward* and I was *afraid* of what love would make me—I was afraid of being *this.* I'm sorry you have to put up with it too!"

One hand curls clawlike into Sir Pentious's lapels to pull him closer and his fangs deeper. This is going to be the last time. He has to make it hurt. "I wish it—I *wish* it could have been something good for you. I'd fantasized about confessing someday—when you needed proof of my loyalty, I could have made some—some grand gesture—"here, here's your proof, here's how you know I'll never betray you!" Even if you don't reciprocate, I'd hoped you could—could draw strength from it! Here's one more person who esteems you so highly! Here's one more more person who would give you Heaven and Hell! Here's one more person who would do anything to see you happy and triumphant! But I can't even do that much for you, I—I'm so *sorry*—"

He can't get any more out. His last few words break up like a signal in a tunnel, and all he's left with is wordless sobbing and shaking.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious had a chance now, to spill his venom into Alastor. He had a chance to watch him *writhe* in physical agony to match the swirling intensity that the serpent felt inside. But it was clear, from the way the deerman broke so suddenly in his jaws, that Penny realized there was no need.

Alastor was *shattered* in a way that Penny had never, ever seen him. Never heard him. This man, who carried himself with such superiority and class, now a broken, sobbing ruin of a demon clung to the hellish gentleman’s body. He wasn’t goading him, he wasn’t boasting. He wasn’t destroying everything he’d built only to run off or laugh in his face.

He was just… miserable. And it was misery that Sir Pentious could not enjoy… it reminded him of his own wretched wailing when Valera had been there to hold him, too. Suddenly, Alastor stopped being The Radio Demon to Sir Pentious, and had become something else.

*Al. My best friend. You’re not so bad, you old bastard.*

But he wasn’t in the right mind to forgive him, just yet. Forgiveness… what a laughable thing for a *demon* to consider. He pulled his teeth from Alastor’s neck, staring him hard in the face as tears of his own ran down his cheeks. That horrid smile of Alastor’s, twisted with intense sadness…

“Ssstop *sssmiling*, you imbecile.”

He brings his hands up, grabbing at Alastor’s face with both of them, and *forcing* the corners of that mad grin down, to the best of his ability, even if his talons pinched that face. Once he was done with that, he’d return the hug, tightly, his tail slowly wrapping up the other as the most grounding thing he could think of. Emotional intimacy was not his strong suit, but Valera had taught him some things, too.

“… JUSSST… BREATHE… AT THE SAME TIME AS ME. FOLLOW *MY* LEAD.”

Alastor

He can't meet Sir Pentious's gaze; he squeezes his eyes shut automatically. And immediately opens them again when Sir Pentious touches his face. He's distantly surprised to be told he *is* still smiling. He can't feel it at all. The crumbling remains of his smile collapse effortlessly under Sir Pentious's hands and he bites his lower lip, the corners of his mouth twitching like he doesn't know what to do with them when they aren't twisted up.

Why is he being *held*? He doesn't deserve this. But he leans into it, eyes shutting again, face pressed to Sir Pentious's shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his back. He can feel Sir Pentious's chest rising and falling with each breath—it's the most reassuring feeling, the most reassuring sound in the world. He can breathe. He can do that.

His shuddering reduces, his sobs slowly stop. He isn't sure if he's still crying or if it's just the old tears clinging to his face. But he's breathing. And he's—god, how did this happen?—he's exactly where he's wanted to be for the last fifty-four years.

He croaks, "If you're planning to exterminate me, please make it now." Cue the world's tinniest laugh track.

Sir Pentious

Satan himself, it actually worked. He managed to… calm Alastor down. He’d done exactly what Valera had done for him before, and… well, he sold himself short, now didn’t he? He’d calmed down Valera before, too. Maybe he didn’t destroy everything he touched. Maybe… he was good at maintaining his relationships, after all. Why, these two thought he was good enough to willingly be around, so… maybe he could give himself a chance, too.

The love aspect that was added on… Pentious still wasn’t sure what to do with that. Could he handle knowing that Alastor loved him? That every action between the two of them had this tension? Or would it only have tension if he allowed it to? Sir Pentious bumped his forehead to Alastor’s, a little rougher than usual to at least show he was irritated…

“YOU ARE OFF THE AIR. GIVE YOURSSSELF A BREAK.”

He adjusts the deerman’s monocle, and straightens up his suit, before he reaches into his own suit jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. Penny moves to undo the neck portion of Alastor’s suit, so that he could place the handkerchief inside and on his shoulder–but he stops himself, instead just handing him the cloth.

“…I AM ANGRY WITH YOU. I AM FRUSSSTRATED AND I DO NOT KNOW WHEN I WILL FEEL ABLE TO BE COMFORTABLE WITH YOU AGAIN. BUT I WILL WANT THISSSS HANDKERCHIEF BACK, DO YOU UNDERSSSTAND? SSSSO. DO NOT RUN AWAY FROM ME, ALASSSTOR. I WILL NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN IF YOU EVEN *THINK* ABOUT RUNNING AWAY FROM ME.”

His own voice was hoarse, despite how loud it was, and he was clearly tired from crying and shouting. Sir Pentious looked thoroughly tired, as if he had been drinking and yet he’d had not a drop. Emotionally drained, and all out of spoons.

Alastor

Alastor is more than capable of tidying himself up, and under any other circumstances he *would,* irritably pushing off whoever dared try to fuss over him—but it's such a shock that *Sir Pentious* is doing it, and it's so *nice*, he just stands there in stunned silence, letting him.

He numbly takes the handkerchief, and for a moment stares blankly at it before figuring out what it's for. He quickly undoes his bow tie—his fingers twitch when he remembers whose it is—and then hastily undoes his collar and slides the handkerchief under.

"I can send it back this evening after I launder it." His voice is filtered through a radio again—Sir Pentious is wrong, he's *always* on air—with the crackles and pops like an old phonogram record complimenting the hoarseness of his own voice. He looks down to avoid meeting Sir Pentious's gaze, realizes that doesn't solve the problem, and glances to the side. "If you're trying to use the handkerchief to say that you see this ending some way other than never wanting to speak to me again... then be more direct."

A few members of the invisible studio audience weakly chuckle. Alastor waves them off with his free hand, muttering, "Shut *up,* not the time," then winces as the gesture makes his shoulder sting.

Sir Pentious

Ah, he was called out. It gets a frustrated look out of him, but… you know. That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d have said to Alastor, before. Sir Pentious folds his arms, flinching a little as the pain from having scratched at himself reminds him that it is still present.

“… I DON’T WANT YOU TO RUN AWAY FROM ME, BECAUSE I WANT TO SSSEE YOU AGAIN, ON MY TERMSSS. BUT IF I SSEE YOU TOO SSOON… I MIGHT HATE YOU FOREVER.”

A deep inhale, and slow exhale. Sir Pentious slowly unravels his tail from around the other demon, though it remains behind him in case he cannot stand on his own, “… I REQUIRE TIME TO PROCESS THISS, ALASSSTOR. PERHAPSS YOU ARE RIGHT, THAT I SHOULD NEVER WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU EVER AGAIN. BY ALL ACCOUNTSS, I OUGHT TO AGREE WITH THAT AND NEVER SSSPEAK TO YOU AGAIN!”

His tail lashes with some irritability, and now it’s his turn to avoid any kind of eye contact. “… But. I sstill want to. I do not want you to leave. I have… *fun* when you are around. The kind of fun that I never had before… Because. I do not have friends. There are very few people who would want to be around me.” Blast it he was rambling on again. He covers his face with a hand, grimacing as all he can taste on his tongue is Alastor’s blood. It made him dizzy with misery. “I will be on Okkylk. When I am ready to take back the handkerchief, I will pick it up in *person.*”

Alastor

He listens to the half-threats as stoically as he can with his smile missing—he feels naked and raw and exposed—and he fears that with his face twitching after every sentence, it's not nearly as stoic as he'd like to think.

His heart nearly leaps into his throat when Sir Pentious says he wants Alastor to stay—then plummets back down. It's not because it's Alastor's friendship, specifically, that he values; it's because he needs anyone's friendship, and Alastor's the one offering it. Piss-poor and putrid though it is. He already knew that, didn't he? Hadn't he said to Valera that Sir Pentious doesn't like Alastor—he just likes that Alastor likes him? He wishes he could bring anything more to the table than this desperate last resort friendship—but he shot any chances of that in the head decades ago.

He nods wearily. "You know where to find me. You won't hear a peep out of me until you come calling, barring emergencies—overheard assassination plots or the like."

Sir Pentious

How they hated themselves. If he'd known that Alastor had come to that conclusion, well... maybe he'd have said something else. But as it stood, right now, Sir Pentious was beyond exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in his fiancee, to breathe her in and feel some form of comfort after all of *this*...

It wasn't fair to think of it that way, he knew that Alastor was suffering, but what could he do? His cup was empty, and he could not pour from it. His eyes looked back up to see that pitiful expression, and... he gestured with his index talon--a smiley face. "... YOU CAN SSMILE AGAIN, ALASSTOR. YOU'RE NOT DRESSED WITHOUT IT." Ha...ha. Ha. He immediately looks like he regrets the sentence before he turns, and begins to slither back through the piping.

How he hated himself, but they loved him.

Alastor

He attempts a smile. He fails. He isn't surprised. He almost responds "*No, I can't,*" but Sir Pentious is dealing with enough of Alastor's personal problems. He doesn't need another.

He watches Sir Pentious go; pulls the bow tie out from around his collar, drops it on the workbench beside the travel mug; and then melts into the shadows.

#hissandvinegar #chat log

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offaeandcreation · 4 years

Text

Sleep-Deprived College Student Becomes World's Strongest Cultivator By Bullshit Means

Summary:The last thing WanLi An (Ani) expected was to a) die in the most pathetic and ridiculous manner, b) wake up in the body of a villain destined to be beheaded in a war of their own making. Of course with Ani's luck, that's exactly what happened. Now Ani finds herself the ruthless, morally-questionable at best, leader of Qishan Wen, rearing two bratty children, while pretending that yes, she is absolutely Wen Ruohan. Nothing to see here! Everything is just fine. Except the universe isn't done making her life hell. "For fuck's sake, I just wanted my degree!"

Chapter 1: Holy Fucking Shit

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11+

Content Warnings: Death, Mourning, Dirty Jokes

AO3

On my gravestone, I want the following epithet: Murdered by heels via the eighth floor window. Gravity was a co-conspirator.

There she flew, like an outtake of 'It's a Wonderful Life', skirt flapping in the wind harder than a can-can dancer's. Ani, known to her angry mother as WanLi An, was NOT about to become the world's next human pudding if she had any say about it. She reached for the psychology department’s brick edges, anything to stop the fall that ended in concrete.

Supergirl, now’s your chance! Fulfill my lesbian dream!

As she waited for the inevitable hero to come swooping in, a familiar object flew past her like from the Rabbit Hole scene in ‘Alice in Wonderland’: the softcover book she’d been reading, glossy title flashing its Chinese characters, ‘Mo Dao Zu Shi’.

Oh ya, I could learn to fly on a sword!

She made a grab at it but missed, watching the wind sweep it away. Another possession flew into Ani’s line of sight: a pink tote bag with the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written on it – for A-Li. His meringues packed inside, made just for him to stuff his face with with the intention of proving that yes, he can fit five in his mouth now, all came flying out. The wind clearly wanted to take them for itself.

Those are for A-Li you air-bag!

Waving her arms around, she tried to reach for the helicoptering meringues with much gusto and much failure.The whistle in her ear might as well have been snickering.

A photograph slipped into Ani’s line of sight taken back in China of her entire family: her parents, grandmother, A-Li, days before her father died.

The wind stole the air out of her lungs. Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could while having no anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small. She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter.

No! No don’t do this!

Ani screamed at the wind that tore at her, at the grey sky that looked at her with no mercy.

I’m going to die. I can’t die- Grandmother, I can’t! Not now. I have to take care of A-Li–

A single tear kissed her cheek before floating in the air, too light to fall, before she plunged into the concrete.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Ani’s eyes shot open, a gasp escaping her lips. Her heart pounded into the pillows she was lying face-first in, breathing as if she’d just woken up from a nightmare.

She was in bed. At home. Safe. Her muscles relaxed, sinking into the mattress beneath-

Something hard resisted against her body, as if the mattress was more akin to a wooden board then memory foam. She blinked, allowing her hands to wander the bed, pressing and feeling against silky bedding.

This isn’t my bed-

Wait.

She shouldn’t even be in bed.

Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could without an anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small. She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter.

She should have died.

I fell.

I fell eight stories.

I fell eight stories onto concrete.

Ani sat up, finally looking where she was lying. She was in a large bed with a thick, silky, maroon blanket – something that her grandmother would have owned.

What the fuck?

Ani looked up. Wooden beams criss-crossed above her, holding up a low ceiling made of an unknown dark wood.

Why was there a ceiling? Wasn’t I just seconds ago falling out of a building into the concrete, outside? Where no ceilings could exist?

Ani crawled towards the edge of the bed to take a good look.

It wasn’t a ceiling, but a wooden canopy, with ostentatious diamond and floral engravings, accompanied by transparent red and black valance.

Where am I?

Ani finally looked up from the bed. Her eyes bulged. Three college classrooms couldn’t have fit within this single bedroom.

Beyond the bed, a built-in nightstand had been covered in glass bottles, some small as pennies and others like glass blown art, and torn white sheets .

Bandages perhaps? I’m supposed to be in a hospital…? This doesn’t look like a hospital bed.

Beyond, silky red and woolen carpets decorated the dark floors. Across the room, a large table sat perpendicular to the wall covered in stacks of scrolls.

Some regular-old New York City hospital most definitely wouldn’t have this – a waste of space and money.

Ani blinked. Where was the IV drip? The heart monitor? White curtains? The sink? The putrid smell of alcohol and plastic? Flowers? She definitely deserved flowers. Especially after everything.

What sorry excuse of a hospital is this?! An alt-medicine hospital?Did they give me acid? Was the whole accidentally-falling-out-of-a-building-from-the-top-floor-because-why-not sequence a dream?

Ani rubbed her eyes to make absolutely certain she wasn’t indeed hallucinating. Except, her hand felt strange, as if someone attached weights to them without asking her permission. Ani pulled at them with more force, until she smacked herself in the face. She hissed in pain, glaring at her stupid hand-

What. The. Fuck.

This wanna-be-Micky-mouse-glove abomination was abso-fucking-lutely not her hand. She brought it close, staring at the long pale fingers, razor sharp nails –absolutely a lesbian hazard – and delicate wrist. It was at least twice the size of her face, and felt…foreign. Flexible, catching more air. Ani was pretty sure she could make shoes out of these hands and comfortably walk in them and with room.

She brought up her other hand in comparison. To her utter horror, they matched!

Ani closed her eyes, hoping that somehow to conjure up her smaller, tanner, lesbian-friendly hands. She opened one eye, her kernel of hope popping

Nope.

Either Ani was tripping very hard on acid to the point that her brain forgot the importance of clipped nails, or she’d fallen eight floors and needed a transplant and the only thing available were these man-hands.

Cold pooled in Ani’s gut. Ani tossed off the blankets, scrambling to her feet. She ran towards the golden mirror attached to a nearby vanity. Despite skidding to a stop, her torso continued its trajectory until she face-planted into the floor.

“Fuck,” she bit out.

The sound that came out of her mouth was not the familiar timbre of her voice. She coughed and spoke again.

“Hello.”

It sounded so wrong. Ani spoke a few more words– “Hewwo,” “Nya-Nya,” “Nico Nico Nii,” “Motherfucker,”– before taking a deeper breath. No matter what sounds she made, the voice remained low like a choral bass singer. As low as her father’s had been. Tears welled in Ani’s eyes as she slowly tried to get to her feet, head spinning.

What’s happening? Why are my hands weird? Why is my voice weird!

Even her feet were weird: pale and big like her hands. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, trickling down her back into the collar of white robes that fell to her calves. She never could afford something like this.

Nor did hospitals supply silk robes.

She brushed the robes aside as she got to her knees, her jaw throbbing, and faced the golden mirror.

The face that stared back at her wasn’t her own.

It was a face of man, with bright, unnatural scarlet eyes.

The mirror broke.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Ani flinched at the violent crack. She looked behind her, searching for whatever had broken the mirror. Outside of the table and a sliding-door that led to who-knows-where, there was nothing that could have caused the damage.

She closed her eyes, counting to ten. Reopened them. She closed her eyes, counting to twenty. Reopened them. The same unknown male face stared back at her: long oval face, messy bed-head black hair, and vivid crimson eyes, tinted slightly by the color of the mirror. Not the round face, short dark hair and eyes that she has seen in the mirror every day for twenty-three years. Not the face she preferred.

Red eyes? Seriously? Red? Hardly realistic.

Not even albino irises were this intense. She backed away from the mirror, coming into the body’s full height. At least twice her height - which explains the sheer size of her hands and feet.

At least I’ll be able to reach the top shelves without being laughed at.

The thought quickly scurried away the longer she looked at herself. The mirror mimicked every move she made. The cracks distorted her figure– no, the man’s figure.

What’s happening? What’s going on? Why am I in this body? Is this a hallucination?

Ani mentally ran through all her psychology courses until she had an idea.

Wait, there is still one more test. People who suffer from delusions often attempt to use other senses to figure out if they truly are seeing what is in front of them. So if this is all a delusion-

Shutting her eyes, Ani stuck her hand between her legs-

Yup. That was most definitely not there before. I’m in a man’s body. Confirmed.

She groaned, sinking to the floor in defeat, resting her head on the table. Leaning her head back, she noticed the scrolls wrapped in beige ribbons.

Perhaps these documents will tell me what the hell is going on.

She pulled at the ribbons, looking for something, anything that could give her answers. She scanned the unfurled parchment, noticing a collection of vertical lines, occasionally underlined once or twice that made no sense to her. Dates?

She could understand the Chinese characters, except the style was clearly more archaic, with words that would never be used in any book that would be found at home. Except the older poetry books, because poets like to be pretentious know-it-alls.

Ani looked for writing utensils, except instead of finding pencils and pens that every self-respecting person would have, she found only bamboo brushes.

‘Want to learn?’ a memory itched at the back of her mind, floating to the surface.

Her grandmother had returned from Beijing, eyes crinkling with a smile that her bright blue face mask hid. Ten-year old Ani cried out in happiness, rushing towards the open door in only her purple floral pajamas. Her father grabbed her before she could topple her grandmother with an unexpected bear hug.

‘Ani, Ani, look what I brought you,’ she said with a familiar grin the moment she pulled down her mask under her aging chin.

From a plastic bag, she removed several shiny brushes, the bamboo wood birch-yellow, polished to a shine, and the bristles a variety of browns and white, pointy like a pencil.

Her grandmother handed them to her, ‘Now Ani, these are the brushes of our ancestors, they used to work with these so long ago to make beautiful calligraphy. Want to learn?’

With careful fingers, Ani lifted one of the brushes, running her finger over the bristles and the smooth handle. These weren’t the brushes her grandmother gave her – the handles weren’t as dark nor as smooth as the wood lacked the sheen polish that modern brushes had, and the bristles were more frayed – not supported by synthetic material. These weren’t her grandmother’s brushes but-

“Am I…in the past?”

She scanned the space around her, searching for any sign of modern technology. A fireplace, a wardrobe that most probably cost at least a quarter of her tuition, mats that most definitely were made of organic material, not the synthetic fibers of the modern age. There wasn’t a single modern artifact in the room.

“I’m in the PAST?” Ani cried out, tearing at her hair, “How did THIS happen?”

Her heart beat pounded in her ears. How? How? How? How!

“Sect Leader Wen!”

Ani yelped, grabbing a bronze candle holder as the door slid open. She backed up into the mirror, glad it hadn’t shattered earlier. Assuming whatever entered the room wasn't trying to kill her, the last thing she needed was to pay for broken property just because she stared too hard at the mirror.

A man with dull robes walked in on his knees. Their eyes met and he fell into a bow, face first into the hard wooden floors.

“We are pleased to see you awake Sect Leader!”

Yes, I’m sure you are.

“Physician Wen is being notified now,” he continued. “Is there anything that we can do for you in the meanwhile, Sect Leader Wen?”

Luckily, the servant was too busy digging his nose into the floor and quivering like a vibrator to notice the way her mouth dropped along with the candle.

Sect Leader…Wen?

The name was familiar. Too familiar. She looked past the servant, above the door to the banner that decorated the walls.

The sun symbol.

A stone dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t just traveled into the past. She’d transmigrated into the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi.

As Sect Leader Wen Ruohan.

Who was destined to die.

#oc #wen ruohan #wen xu #wen zhuliu #wen sect #mo dao su zhi #wen chao #my writing

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