#i met the best disguised 'nice guy' ever the other day and am still disgusted

[lampropelma-violaceopes]

Dear anyone

You’re going to have a lot of difficulty in your relationships with women as long as you see kindness and romance as down payments for sex. It really doesn’t matter how charming, flattering, and interested in a woman’s day you are, or for how long you do it - as soon as she realizes you’re literally expecting sex in return, like an actual transaction, she’s going to be turned off, and you’re back to square one. Again.

Don’t believe me (a woman) if you must, but if you really care about getting laid, don’t you at some point have to acknowledge that your current approach isn’t delivering?

[weasleyslag]

me and your girlfriend (fred weasley x f! reader)

summary: You're tired of waiting around for Fred to get his act together while he parades other girls around you, so you try to move on. Fred is unreasonably upset by this and tries his darndest to scare your new boyfriend off.

wc: 3063

warning(s): 18+ (not smut, but several mentions of sex), jealously, lowkey toxic relationship (don’t worry, it mostly gets resolved in the end)

a/n: this is my first HP fic I’ve written since I was like 8 years old so I am so sorry if you stumble upon this. Also, I noticed that most of the writing perspective is third person using y/n but the last fandom I wrote for, almost everyone wrote in second person, so I’m in the habit now. I’ll try to change that in the future.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30625835

“George, Georgie!!!” You called as you ran into the Gryffindor boys’ bedroom.

“Yeah?” George responded, looking up from his trunk of clothes.

“You will never guess what happened earlier!”

“Moody’s coffee had a hair growth potion in it. That was me.” He told you smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “Not that. That wasn’t nearly your best prank. You’ve been slacking, Weasley.” You slapped your friend on the back.

“Fred’s been distracted. He’s been with a new girl named… hmm what was it… Natalie? Natalia? It’s hard to keep track.” George explained, not trying too hard to disguise his dismay in his brother for slacking when it came to pranks.

“I can’t believe there’s another one. He just met someone else last week. And now there’s her too…” Your words trailed off. You really didn’t want to sound jealous but it was hard not to. George knew your feelings for Fred, Fred knew, Hell, Natalie (or Natalia) probably knew. It wasn’t really a secret.

George, wanting to relieve your discomfort, tried changing the subject. “So what was it that I can’t believe?”

“Lloyd Baker asked me out! He picked me flowers and everything.”

George let out a whistle. “Heard he’s a catch within the Ravenclaw house. He suits you. Kind and smart and-“

“And not Fred.” You finished your friend’s sentence for him.

“That’s not what I was going to say but yeah. I know you care about him but he’s being an ass to you. I think it’s good for you to explore your options. Don’t tell him I said that, though. Don’t fancy getting my ass beat.” George patted you on the shoulder.

You nodded. “I just hope I can get over Fred so this relationship can be healthy. Lloyd is great but I’m not even sure if I like him. I don’t really have eyes for anyone but Fred. You know that.”

“Fake it until you make it.” George shrugged.

George may not have had a problem with you being semi-fake in your new relationship but you sure did. Lloyd was a nice guy and you didn’t want to hurt him in an attempt to get over Fred. But you’d already agreed to go out so you supposed you’d take it as you went.

The next week went by like a fairytale. Lloyd walked you to every class, brought you sweets when you were craving them, and listened attentively to every word you said. You were starting to think that this was actually going to work out.

Spending all this time with your new boyfriend meant that you weren’t seeing your friends very often. You weren’t planning on that becoming commonplace, but you thought it wasn’t that weird to spend most of your time with your boyfriend considering this was all so new. You still saw your friends at least a couple of times a day, talking to Lee, Angelina, or George in passing. You saw very little of Fred, which was a little odd. The two times you saw him over the course of the week, however, he winked when he caught your eye before quickly scurrying off. You were convinced that Fred was trying to make this as hard on you as possible.

It was the weekend and you had decided it was time for your friends to officially meet your boyfriend. You weren’t really worried about what Lee, Angelina, Alicia, or George would think. The tall, kind faced boy was a perfect match for you, at least on paper. You were a little scared to think what Fred might do, though. Although to your understanding, he was bringing Nadine (you had been wrong about her name this whole time) to this Hogsmeade's meetup so he didn’t have any right to step out of line when he met Lloyd.

You squeezed Lloyd’s hand before walking into The Three Broomsticks.

“You okay?” You asked him.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He looked at you quizzically.

Oh, ok. He wasn’t nervous at all. So you were the only one that’s heartbeat was out of control. You weren’t the one that should be nervous, but for some reason you still were. Well, you knew the reason. Your stupid bastard best friend Fred Weasley.

You two stepped through the doors of the establishment. “I need to go to the bathroom real quick before we get started. You’ll be alright, yeah?” You looked up at your boyfriend, searching for any sign of unease.

“Yeah. I’ll just look around and when you come back you can introduce me to your friends.” He flashed you a dazzling smile and you skipped off to the bathroom. Little did you know, that was a huge mistake.

Fred had not taken his eyes off of you since you had walked in. Everyone else at the table felt uncomfortable, knowing from Fred’s scowl that he was about to make a scene. Nadine tried desperately to try to get her date’s attention, but he just waved her off.

“In a minute, love.” He faltered at the term of endearment. It felt forced.

He didn’t even know why he had invited Nadine to The Three Broomsticks. He had been seeing red ever since George had first informed him that you were seeing Lloyd. The Gryffindor boys would have been deaf to not hear the shouting match that occurred in the boys’ bedroom the night that he had been told. Fred was mad that George encouraged you to date Lloyd and George was mad that Fred had been such a dick to you lately, parading girls around like you two didn’t have a “thing”. He guessed that he had invited Nadine along today in an attempt to one up you and make you jealous but he knew that wouldn’t work anymore. You were beyond that point. He would just have to have a word with Lloyd to let him know exactly where Fred stood.

Fred walked over to Lloyd. When Lloyd noticed him, he gave him a warm smile, the likes of which Fred did not reciprocate.

“Fred Weasley. Can’t believe we’ve never met. I mean you must be real important to my bug, but I can’t say I’ve ever even heard her talk about you.” Fred told the boy coldly.

Lloyd shifted back and forth uncomfortably “Your what?”

“My bug. A term of endearment. You wouldn’t understand.”

“It’s cool that you and her are so close, I guess.” Lloyd didn’t know what else to say.

Fred chuckled at Lloyd’s visible uncomfortableness, not saying anything else for a moment before getting a wickedly awful yet brilliant (in his mind) idea. An idea to make sure Lloyd got the message that you were meant to be Fred’s, not some heartthrob Ravenclaw prat’s.

“Say Lloyd, did you know that my dad works for the Ministry? He works in proximity to Muggle culture. So I know all about Muggles.”

“Okay…” Lloyd responded, unsure of where Fred was going with this.

“Wanna know my favorite Muggle song at the moment?”

Lloyd nodded, desperate to ease the tension.

“It’s called Slumber Party by some girl named Ashnikko. My favorite lyrics are,” Fred accentuated what he said next, not keeping a melodious tune but rather just speaking as if he was informing Lloyd of something, “Me and your girlfriend playin' dress up at my house. I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.” He gave a sickly smile when he finished what he was saying.

It didn’t take a genius to understand what Fred was getting at. Lloyd immediately understood. Why the Hell would you start dating him when you were so clearly involved with Fred?!? Lloyd didn’t know quite what to say.

“I- what?”

“Thought Ravenclaw’s were supposed to be smart,” Fred snorted. “One word from me and she’ll be leaving you in the dust. Trust me, mate.” Fred’s eyes grew huge as he heard you exiting the restroom and he ran over to where he had been sitting before and put his arm around Nadine like nothing had happened. Everyone at the table had heard the discussion and looked at Fred in shock, besides George who glared at him with disgust.

“Okay I’m back!” You grabbed Lloyd’s arm and were surprised when he pulled away from you a bit.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Nothing.” Lloyd lied straight through his teeth.

“Okay…” You replied, uneasy. Nevertheless, you guided him over to the table where your friends were seated.

“Lloyd these are my friends. Angelina, my best girl friend. The Gryffindor team captain and the best Chaser I’ve ever met.” Angelina beamed at the words. “Lee, he’s annoying but he’s hopelessly in love with me so he gets to stay.” Lee choked on his drink before flicking you off. “Alicia, best giver of advice in the universe.” Alicia gave a small smile and a wave at Lloyd. “This is Nadine, I don’t know her very well but she’s a very sweet girl.” Nadine nodded and thanked you for your kind words. “And my best friends since first year, Fred and George.”

“The very best!” Fred beamed and you smiled at him. You were glad he was taking this so well. Maybe it was for the best that you both moved on, not that you were too sure if he had ever properly fancied you in the first place.

“I wish you could meet Oliver but he’s long gone now. We’re still super tight, though.”

“Yep, she’s super tight… with Oliver” Fred stared directly at Lloyd, who was looking at him, mortified.

The crude joke, however, went straight over your head and you just smiled at Fred. You couldn’t help the butterflies you felt in your stomach when you looked at him but you still tried to push them aside. You were blissfully unaware of the air of discomfort around the table. Fred and you practically ignored the others for two hours while you talked about anything and everything under the sun.

“I think it’s time for us to go.” Lloyd suddenly announced, pulling you two out of a Quidditch discussion.

“Aww really? Already?” You pouted at Lloyd but he just looked at you stonefaced. You had no idea what you were thinking but it couldn’t be good.

“Don’t worry, we can continue this discussion tonight, bug!” Fred told you, winking. You winked back at him playfully, not even noticing that Lloyd had let go of your hand entirely and Nadine had removed Fred’s arm from her shoulders.

“Ok, see you in the common room then!”

“The common room. Sure.” Fred said sarcastically. You found yourself confused, not understanding what he meant. But the words had hit exactly who they were meant for.

Lloyd practically dragged you outside and began walking swiftly back towards Hogwarts. You kept asking him what was wrong but he wouldn’t answer you. He speed walked all the way back to the castle, with you trying your best to keep up with him. Once you reached the gardens, he finally let everything he had been feeling go.

“Why are you going out with me when you’re so obviously with Fred?” he huffed.

“I’m not. Fred’s with Nadine.” You told him, very puzzled. But deep down, you still felt caught. Maybe he had caught on that you had feelings for Fred, even though those feelings were unreciprocated, or at least if there were feelings on Fred’s part, he wasn’t taking it very seriously.

“Yeah, right. That’s not what Fred said.”

“What are you talking about? Fred didn’t say anything to you.”

“Yes he did. While you were in the bathroom. He basically said that you two had a wild sex life and if he asked you to, you’d immediately drop me. And and-“ Lloyd ran out of things to say but he continued huffing and puffing.

“I have never slept with Fred.” You scoffed, ignoring the last part of Lloyd’s sentiment because you knew it was true.

“So he’s never eaten you out? Because he said that. Or at least strongly indicated it. And his comment about you being tight...” Lloyd’s eyes pleaded for you to tell the truth.

“No! I’ve never done that with anyone, promise. I haven’t done anything with him besides kiss him.” You were telling the truth, but Lloyd seemed dismayed that you had even kissed the boy before.

“Why’d you kiss him? Doesn’t seem like something that people who are just friends do.”

“I don’t know. I was just bummed out that I had never kissed anyone before. It wasn’t a big deal. And that was forever ago.”

Lloyd seemed slightly put at ease by that sentiment.

“So you haven’t kissed him in a really long time, then? And he’s just being an ass for no reason?”

“Being an ass for no reason? Yes. And I’ll talk to him about it. He’s totally crossed a line. I can’t just not be friends with him but he can’t say shit like that. But uh, the years ago thing, that was just the first time we kissed. Uhhh it’s been more than once.” You faltered, looking down at your shoes.

“So when was the last time?” Lloyd demanded.

“When did you ask me out?”

“Last Friday.”

“Errr that Thursday night then. But I haven’t done it since. I would never cheat.” You said honestly.

“Seriously? Look, you’re a nice girl and all but you clearly have an unresolved relationship with your friend and it’s just not healthy for me or you,” And so it went. You knew by his words that he was breaking up with you. You knew he was right but you were still royally pissed at Fred for ruining everything. “I could tell you’re in love with him just by the way you spoke to him today. And he-well he certainly feels something for you.”

“A possessive bugger, he is.” You agreed, trying to remain as lighthearted as you could while you fought back tears. You should just face it, you were never going to get over Fred Weasley.

“I’m sorry. I really am. But this is all too much of a mess for me. I’m sure you understand. I umm,,, I wish the best for you.” Lloyd said awkwardly before disappearing into the castle. And just like that, your first proper (albeit short) relationship had ended.

You ran to the Gryffindor girls’ bedroom to find Angelina, tears streaming down your face (the tears not so much because of being broke up with but because of the fact that apparently Fred thought it was appropriate to dictate your dating life while he could screw the whole school). Of course, Angelina wasn’t there. She was probably still at Hogsmeade. You needed to talk to somebody. You could probably confide in Hermione if you really needed to but she was in a fight with Ron and you didn’t want to add any more bad energy to her life at the moment. And Ginny, well you were afraid she might slaughter Fred.

Hoping that George had happened to walk back before the others, you called into the Gryffindor boys’ room.

“George? Are you in there?” You sniffled.

“Come in, love.” Your heart sank. It was Fred, not George.

“I don’t want to speak to you right now.” You told him coldly, walking into the room anyway.

“So you heard about my little stunt then?” He chuckled before looking over at your tear stained face. “No, bug, come here.” He grabbed you into a hug and you immediately started crying harder and pushing against him. He was stronger than you and wasn’t letting you go, however.

“I hate you, I really do. I know you’re going to say I don’t mean that but I do.” You cried, hiccupping at the end.

“But you don’t mean it. I’m sorry.” He kissed your forehead.

“Don’t do that, damn it!” You rubbed your hand over your forehead in an attempt to undo the action. “Why did you say all that to Lloyd today?”

“I was jealous.” He admitted.

“And you don’t think I’m jealous of Nadine?” You asked angrily. What was with Fred and his double standards?

“Don’t worry about that. I broke it off with her. She wasn’t too happy with me, anyway. I shouldn’t have even brought her today. I was just trying to one up you. But it just hurt everyone involved.”

“You breaking up with her doesn’t make everything better. It definitely doesn’t mean we’re going to go back to the way we were before.” You tried to break away from him again and this time you were successful.

“I don’t want things to be the way they were before.” Fred said quietly. You weren’t even sure you heard him right.

“What?” You asked, feeling a jab at your heart. You had just said that it wasn’t going to be like that anymore but hearing that he didn’t even want you anymore hurt profusely.

“I want it to be more than that. I know it’s gonna take a while to get there. I’ve really shown my ass.” He hung his head low.

“And not in a good way.” You giggled.

“See, that’s my girl!” He smiled.

“Don’t think that gets you out of hot water, Weasley.”

“‘Course not. I’ve been a proper idiot. But I’ll make it up to you over time.” Maybe against your better judgment, you let him kiss you. “I was scared for some reason.” He continued.

“Scared?”

“Yeah. Felt suffocated. I don’t want to end up just like my parents. Meeting someone so young and never experiencing anything else and getting a boring old job and doing that for the rest of my life. But I was focused on the wrong stuff. I can make my life different in so many different ways than going through a fuckboy phase. I really care about you, you know? And I want to be with you.”

“We’ll figure this out. Besides, I hate seeing you be so heavy with stuff. Where’s the silly boy I love?”

“You love?” Fred cocked an eyebrow and smiled wide.

“Oh come on, it’s just a phrase.”

“I think you’re psychologically trying to tell yourself that you love me.” He squeezed you and kissed your cheek. “Can’t wait to be with you good and proper.”

“One rule: don’t tell everyone about our sex life. We don’t even have one yet and you’re already telling people about it.”

“Noted.”

[multi-fandom-freak0221]

The Shell of a Girl that I Used to Know Well

Inspired by "Love of three" by @misashabunbun

Thank you @thestressmademedoit and @maleive07 for helping me find the fic.

So this turned out to be longer than I thought it would be (probably because I based it around like 5 songs) so I'll break it into parts and post each part separately. Oh and did I mention this is songfic? Because it's a songfic! No Felix yet, but you guys do see Peter but I surprise surprise I turned this into an OT4 pairing. Anyone wanna guess who the other lucky person is to date Mari, Peter and Felix? Also bonus points for anyone who can figure out Mari's stage name.

The song in this part in Stitches by Shawn Mendes and The Lonely by Christina Perri is where I got this parts title from. Also the song mentioned at the end is Partners in Crime by Set It Off ft Ashley Costello.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was grateful for the quiet she found in what she was pretty sure was some kind of presentation room. There was a raised platform which she believes is supposed to be some kind of stage and a couple of tables with chairs surrounding them. She still has no idea how she got here, she was just trying to find some peace. She knew her pseudo Uncle and her friends meant well but they were suffocating her. It's been over a week since she left that bastard, not likely that he even noticed. Since Marinette has gotten to Stark Towers everyone has been treating her like she's about to break and she can't stand it. Yes she's hurt, but like give her a chance to fall apart before trying to shove her back together again! Marinette took a deep breath to calm herself as she sat on the little stage to work on the embroidery she was putting on the back of the blouse. She already had a full heart there but it was kind of plain. She wanted to add something but she didn't know what. 

She sighed softly. At times she really missed Tikki being around to be her second opinion. 

Ever since the defeat of Hawkmoth the kwamis asked to be renounced and to have their respective jewelry return the Miraculous box. They were working together to heal poor Nooroo and Dusuu. Even though Marinette had been able to fully fix the peacock Miraculous, as well as heal Emilie Agreste and Nathalie Sancour from the effects of using a broken Miraculous, the two kwamis had to deal with a significant amount of emotional trauma from the whole affair. 

Even though the final battle had been won quietly without casualties it had taken a lot out of everyone who had been a part of it. Adrien's relationship with his father has been very strained to say the least. Even though Gabriel is doing his best to right his wrongs, it goes to say that the only reason Adrien even speaks to his father at all is because of his mother who is desperately trying to make up for years lost between the two of them.

While Marinette was trying to think of an idea for her embroidery she started humming a song she had heard recently on the radio. In her eyes it fit her past relationship with Damian Wayne perfectly. Soon enough she was singing softly.

I thought that I've been hurt before

But no one has ever left me quite this sore.

Even on their worst days Lila's lies, Alya's beratings, hell even Mlle. Bustier's looks of disappointment never hurt half as much as Damian's total disinterest did. She had cooked him a nice romantic dinner yet he barely acknowledged her. More interested in whatever, or should she say whoever, was on his phone. After 5 mins of trying to carry the conversation alone Marinette sighed and just decided to eat the meal she worked so hard on. After 10 mins of stiff silence in their shared apartment, only filled with the sounds of Marinette eating and Damian texting, the latter got up. Grabbing his coat he made his way to the door, barely turning his head towards his fiancee to call out "I've got to go. Something came up at work."

Marinette wasn't even shocked anymore, just resigned. Still she tried to reason with the man she no longer recognized. Sometimes she wonders if she ever truly knew him at all. "You just got here. Isn't there someone else who can handle it? You haven't even touched your dinner."

True to her words, the young heir's meal sat completely untouched, quickly cooling in the AC.

"Mari, you know these things are important. Not just anyone can handle them." Damian's words were patronizing at best. It frustrated the young designer, but she didn't let it show.

"Will you be back tonight?" She knew the answer but she asked anyway.

Damian hummed noncommittally as he walked through the door still looking at his phone and not the beautiful young lady in front of him. "Most likely not. Don't wait up for me." He quickly walked out, closing the door behind him. Marinette quickly placed her ear to the door as he walked away from the humble abode. She could hear him on the phone.

"Yeah. I'm on my way, gorgeous. I just left." Silence. "No, she doesn't suspect a thing." Nothing but his footsteps as he continues to leave unknowing of her distress behind the apartment "Perfect. The less you're wearing, the better."

Marinette crumbled to the floor after she could no longer hear him. She had suspected as much but that didn't make hearing it less painful. 

Your words cut deeper than a knife

Now I need someone to breathe me back to life

She remembers the first time he truly yelled at her. The way he looked at her with disgust. The way she flinched away from his imposing figure and his cutting words. If tried hard enough she could delude herself that he was doing this out of her best interest. The illusion made even easier to believe by the way he apologized and hugged her after he stopped yelling. The way he told her he was worried about her going out and being made a target to Rogues because of her connection to him. The way he feared that he disguises wouldn't be enough even though he himself didn't recognize her at first when she walked back through the apartment door the day. She believed she was safer staying in the apartment because he said so and he only wants what's best for her. So eventually the walls of their apartment was all she saw 24/7. For her safety of course. 

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

Marinette's head was spinning. Or was it the room? Was she even breathing? She couldn't focus on any of that. All she could focus on was the picture sitting on the screen on her phone. The phone Damian had bought her. The idea made her feel sick now because all those gifts he was giving her now seemed to have double meanings. Especially when the picture filling her screen was of a naked Lila whose body was hidden behind a sheet lying on Damian's bare chest while he slept. She didn't even think to process how the lying bitch managed to get her number. Instead all she could focus on was tears streaming down her face as she felt her heart shatter. She didn't even process the fact that she left the phone right there with the picture still on the screen and started packing her stuff. She grabbed everything that was hers that she bought herself, later on she'd be surprised at how little that was. She stuffed her things in a small suitcase, put the miracle box in a duffle bag wrapped in her leftover fabric from commissions, grabbed her purse with her wallet and left. After locking the apartment door she slid the key underneath the door so he could have it back. He could have everything back he ever gave her. She was done. She was so distressed she didn't even notice that she had put on the one disguise she had and taken a train to New York until she was standing in the lobby of Stark Tower with her Uncle Tony and her Aunt Pepper holding her while she sobbed.

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

Marinette was so engrossed in the lyrics, in her feelings, that she didn't notice the tears falling from her eyes, nor the way she was furiously embroidering the shirt in her hands. And she definitely didn't notice that she had gained an audience.

Just like a moth drawn to a flame

Yeah you lured me in and I couldn't sense the pain

The first time she met Damian it had been an accident. She knew when her classes started she wouldn't have the time to get the fabrics she needed for her last commissions that she agreed to before going on hiatus. She knew juggling her business and school would be hard so told her clients she'd be on break for the unforeseeable future. She was so focused on her phone trying to make sure her list was complete, that she didn't notice the man right in front of her.

"Oh!" She fell back with a little yelp and when she saw what, or who, she ran into she hurried to help them up as well. "I'm so sorry monsieur. Are you okay?"

The man yanked his hand away from her and growled, "You wouldn't be having to ask if you weren't caught up in whatever idiotic nonsense is on your phone."

Marinette fumed silently. "Well excuse me sir, I don't know who you think you are, but that is uncalled for. I apologized and helped you up. All you had to do was walk away. No need to be so rude."

Damian raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "You don't know who I am?"

Marinette crossed her arms still annoyed. "Am I supposed to? You could be the president for all I cared and I still would say you were being rude and disrespectful."

Damian's expression changed slightly to a bit of amused intrigue. "I apologize. I thought you were another fangirl with some kind of ruse to get my attention. If you don't mind me asking, what is a girl like you doing in a city like Gotham? I can tell from your accent you are not from here."

Marinette relaxed a little bit. "I'm here going to college when the semester starts, but right now I was out doing some shopping."

"Perhaps I could join you as a way to apologize for my rude behavior. I could give you a mini tour along the way." Damian smiled softly at her.

"I don't know," apprehension was clear on Marinette's face. "I don't even know you let alone your name."

Damian chuckled lightly. "I assure you, even if you don't know me, the rest of the city does. I won't be able to get away with doing anything to you without being plastered across every newspaper and magazine in town, Angel. But my name is Damian by the way. Damian Wayne." He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly after his introduction.

"A-angel?" Marinette stuttered as she blushed.

"Well, I still don't know your name."

Marinette smiled before introducing herself. "My name is Marinette. Your company would be much appreciated, Damian"

Your bitter heart cold to the touch

Now I'm going to reap what I sow

I'm left seeing red on my own

Sometimes on nights like these Marinette wondered what she did wrong. Because it had to be her of course. Why else would Damian go from her caring, charming, wonderful, Dove to Gotham's very own cold, unfeeling, ruthless, Ice Prince. 

"Hi, Damian. You're home early." Marinette tried not to let the hope seep into her voice. She had a feeling she wasn't successful.

Damian barely grunted at her as he continued to their room. "My idiots brothers dragged me into spending some time with them so I'm forced to change into something less formal."

"Oh okay." She knew she did an even worse job of hiding her disappointment. "You know I finished Uncle Jagged's outfit the other day. He loved it."

Damian hummed noncommittally. She knew he wasn't paying attention, he never was but she kept trying.

"You know how he's doing that "World's Greatest" Tour. Celebrating the hero's of the world in their respective cities. Luka's been opening for him. His career has really taken off. Hell I'm sure half the tickets Uncle Jagged sells are people just trying to see Luka. He'll have to tour solo soon."

"I bet." Damian's voice was muffled from being the closet, but she could still hear the disinterest in his voice.

She sighed as she leaned against the doorframe of "their" room. It was only theirs in name the fact that his clothes were there. She spent almost every night there alone. She took a deep breath trying to gather her courage for what she was going to ask. "Well they wanted to thank me for the outfits. Claimed the tour would have been half as successful without them. They invited me to take me out to dinner tonight to catch up, then for me to hang out backstage during their show. They said they missed me." Marinette hoped he still wasn't paying attention, but as soon as he settled his famous glare on her, she knew she wasn't that lucky. She flinched into herself under his gaze.

"Marinette. You know what would happen if you left this apartment. The famous Wayne Heir's sweet vulnerable fiance. The one never seen in the media anymore. You would get off this block before your picture would be on every media outlet in the city. Then you would be the Rogues target for the night. They would go anywhere you would be. Including the concert. Would you really be so selfish to endanger hundreds, possibly thousands of innocent concert goers just to 'hang out' with people you can see any time you please?" The disappointment on his face and the coldness of his delivery had her feeling ashamed. She hung her head low trying to hold back the tears. 

"I'm sorry." She knew her voice was barely above whisper, but if she tried to speak any louder she knew she'd open the flood gatesp.

Damian brushed past her. "You should be. I'll be heading to the concert with my brothers. I'll inform Jagged of your apologies for not coming."

"Just telling him I'm sick." She offered weakly still not looking up from the floor.

She could feel his judgeful look on her. "Of course not. He'll insist on coming to check on you then he'll see your lying. I'll tell him you're busy with commissions." He left her standing there as headed to leave again. She heard his phone ring and he answered it harshly. "I'm coming down, Todd!" "Of course not, you imbecile! She's a serious designer who can't be bothered out of her schedule to spend time with my idiotic brothers, especially when she's up to her nose in commissions!" She heard the door shut after that statement. I guess her soon to be brothers in law didn't know the real reason behind her lock down either. She stood there for a few more moments before she broke down into loud heavy sobs. She collapsed to her knees and just cried. Not for the first nor last time in that prison she called an apartment.

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

Her hands were moving furiously as she was trying to rid her mind of her cruel ex.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

She wanted to forget everything about him.

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

His smile, his laugh, the loving look in his eyes.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His kisses, his hugs, the way he held her like he was afraid of losing her

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

His scowl, his glare, his need to hide her from the world

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His distance, his apathy, the way he was happy in any other girl's arms but her's

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

Get you out of my head.

She wanted to forget loving him and hating him. She wanted her happiness back

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

Shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

And now that I'm without you kisses

I'll be needing stitches

I'll be needing stitches.

As she finished singing she awoke from her haze. She felt the tears on her face and wiped them away before looking to see what she had made. The simple heart from before now had a jagged line down the middle that stopped a quarter of the way to the bottom to represent a break. From the bottom it looked like the heart was dripping. The most noticeable change was the crude yet tasteful stitches that laid over the break in the heart. They weren't neat as if she were suggesting they were professionally done. The way she laid them subconsciously represented as if they were self done by someone trying their best.

While she was studying her impromptu embroidery a voice surprised her. "It looks nice."

She looked up in shock to see a brown haired boy around her age, 21 maybe 22, sitting at the table closest to the stage she was on. He looked as if he had been there for a while.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I heard you singing so I came to see who it was because you have a beautiful voice, but then I saw you crying and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you seem really focused and I didn't want to interrupt, but I didn't want to just leave you either, but- I'm sorry I'm rambling. My name is Peter. Are you okay?" The boy, Peter, asked her softly, looking concerned. For Marinette it was enough.

She had sat in the chair next to him and finally let out everything she was holding in. The tears were flowing freely now "I don't know. I'm so mad, so hurt, so confused. Where did it go wrong? One minute I'm getting my business degree at Gotham University, the next I'm in a relationship with Damian Wayne. It was amazing he was so kind and sweet and loving and he made me so happy. Then next thing I know after dating for about a year and half he proposes. I'm on cloud 9 and I say yes and I'm so excited for what's to come, but suddenly everything changes. Next thing I know he's saying I can't leave the apartment because he wants me to be safe from the Rogues and I accepted it. Then he's yelling at me for trying to sneak out and I'm thinking I deserve it. I should have just stayed home and he's already apologizing for yelling. Then suddenly he's gone more and more. He's never home and I'm alone and it hurts. Then suddenly I'm selfish for asking to go out to see my friends because how can I put everyone at risk just to go see some friends who I can see anytime I want. Yet nobody is ever allowed over. But I still believe he's right. How can I be So now I'm alone and miserable and it hurts because he keeps getting further and further from me and I'm starting to suspect what's going on but I'm too scared to ask him because if he confirms it, then everything I believed in is a lie and I couldn't live with that. But I didn't even have to ask because soon someone is sending me a picture and it's the girl who made my school life hell by taking everyone I thought was my friend away from me with a few far fetched lies, and here she is laying naked on my fiance's naked chest as he sleeps. And I know he knows who she is and what she did to me because I told him. Yet he doesn't care because here he is fucking her while I'm at home all the time because he told me to be. So I grabbed my stuff and left everything he ever got me and just left. So here I am miserable staying with my Uncle Tony trying not to think about the asshole while my friends try to help me feel better yet I feel terrible because I loved the jerk and I still kinda do and I still have the engagement ring which I should pawn, but it was Bruce's mom's ring and that would be wrong and Bruce would be devastated. Why do I care so much about him and his family when he couldn't be bothered with me?" She felt better after finally letting it all out. She hadn't cried since she came to Uncle Tony. Not when Adrien arrived with Kagami, Marc, and Nathaniel, not when Luka arrived with Uncle Jagged and not even when Chole and Alix arrived. All her friends and pseudo family were there yet she hadn't cried once, nor had she actually told them the full story. But here this stranger asked if she was okay and she let it flow like Niagara Falls.

If Peter was shocked by her rant he didn't let it show. Instead he placed a hand on her before speaking softly "Because you are an amazing person who is a million times better than him. He is insane to choose anyone over you especially someone so foul as a desperate liar. I just met you, but I can already tell that you are a kind hearted, talented girl and anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives and I can tell by the crowd over there by the door that you have many people standing with you who already figured that out." Marinette looked up at his words to see her friends and pseudo uncles and their respective wives standing in the door. 

"Hi guys." As soon as Marinette finished speaking they all rushed towards her. Adrien reached her first pulling her into a tight hug.

"Oh bugaboo, I'm so sorry you had to go through this. Are you okay? Why didn't you tell us, princess?" He buried his face in her neck purring slightly in a way that calmed her.

"I guess I was still processing everything kitty. He really had me thinking he loved me and to find out he didn't was a hard blow." She confessed quietly.

"He'll meet my blade for hurting you, Mari," Kagami seemed to have Chole, Alix and surprisingly, Marc ready to back her. 

"No, Gami, I just want to get over him. He's not worth it." Mari remarked sadly before smiling at her friends. "But thank you, all of you, for having my back."

There were various "Of course" and "Always" that were heard among the group before Tony Stark cleared his throat. "Marinette let me properly introduce Peter Parker, my intern. Peter, this is my niece Marinette Dupain-Cheng also known as MDC owner and head designer of Miracle Designs."

Peter looked star struck. "I love your work. You make the coolest clothes on the planet."

Marinette blushed lightly. "Thank you, Peter. Uncle Tony told me much about you and I was always impressed. You're nothing short of a genius." Marinette missed Peter's blush as she started introducing her friends to him, but Tony didn't.

"This is Adrien Agreste, former model and Physics major. This is Kagami Tsurugi, world champion fencer. This is Luka Couffanie, singer songwriter signed under Jagged Stone. They're dating. This is Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel creators of Miraculous Tales comic. They're engaged. This is Chole Bourgeois, the best lawyer in all of France and probably Europe. And this is Alix Kubdel, X Games Winner, and famous archeologists. These two are also engaged. I'm sure you know Jagged Stone and his manager and also his wife, Penny." 

"You guys are amazing! None of you look much older than me yet you're already so successful! What is in the water in Paris? Some kind of talent steroids?" Peter was amazed.

"Speaking of talent," Luka turned towards Marinette. "Melody why didn't you tell me you could sing like that?" Soon everyone was agreeing that she was an excellent singer.

Marinette was bright red. "It's no big deal guys. I was just singing to myself, I wasn't expecting an audience."

Jagged took his chance to pull his pseudo niece into a hug. "Nettie, my girl you have got to let me sign you. It would be so rocking to have talent like yours produced under my label!"

"No way Uncle Jagged! I'm not even that good!" Marinette began protesting before Luka put a hand on her shoulder.

"How about this? I need some vocals for a song I wrote and no matter how much I love them, my dear boyfriend and girlfriend can not sing." Adrien and Kagami looked at each other before shrugging. No point denying it. "How about you feature in my new single under an alias and if it's hit you'll give an album a try?"

Marinette looked around at some of the most important people in the world to her before sighing and agreeing.

"Alright. But no promises that this will be hit. I'm really not that good. You guys are just biased."

Alix ruffled Marinette's hair. "Whatever you say, DC. Now let's go play some UMS3!"

As everyone was heading out to find a room large enough for all of them Peter prepared to go back to work on a project until Marinette turned back to him with a huge smile and bright eyes. "Come on Peter! Come play with us." 

How could he say no to that? So he came along.

A couple weeks later Luka's single "Partners in Crime" featuring Neon Titanium hit number one on the charts. And the most searched inquiry on Google for 3 days following was "who is Neon Titanium?" Needless to say Marinette was busy for the next couple months. Especially after Luka dropped a music video which she starred in as well wear a full face mask to stay hidden.

[wykart]

Fix Her

Can be read as a standalone if you’re looking for some fluff!

Chapter 3 of a fic about Five and Vanya and all the tragedy surrounding them (chapter 1) (chapter 2)

Chapter Summary: Five and Vanya decide to sneak out of the academy in the middle of the night to get some donuts

read here on ao3 or continue chapter 3 under the cut

1167 days before

Vanya was in her room that night practising the combat moves she’d seen her siblings running through earlier that day. She didn’t have a mirror, so instead she watched her reflection in the dark window that looked out at the streets. She watched herself, a dim orange glow in the glass, not half as intimidating as her brothers and sister seemed when they did the same thing. It was a difficult thing to do on your own, and it took a lot of imagination not to feel like an idiot while you punched mid-air, grunting and gritting your teeth. Sometimes she could pretend she was fighting alongside her siblings, that she was strong as Luther, sharp as Diego, quick as Five, or deadly as Ben. Maybe someday they’d love her as much as everyone loved Allison, or laugh at her jokes like they did for Klaus.

A face materialised next to her reflection in the widow pane. She jumped back, hastily stuffing her hands into her blazer pockets, a twinge of embarrassment running through her. Five smiled, he was standing outside on the street, looking in through the window. He rapped lightly on the glass and mouthed ‘can I come in?’

Vanya nodded hurriedly, looking down at her shoes. There was a flash of blue light as the air in front of the window was pushed and warped. Five appeared along with it in a clout of electric air, fizzing with energy. “Sorry if I scared you,” he said, scuffing his foot along the floorboards, restless. “I saw you in here and thought you might like some company.” He met her eyes, “your fighting looks good, I can tell you’ve been practising.”

Vanya flashed him a sheepish grin. “It’s silly, I know, but you guys always look like you’re having so much fun.”

“Yeah well, it gets old pretty fast, especially when Luther and Diego can’t stop showing off.”

“How did you get out?” She asked, wondering how Five could possibly have gotten past the myriad of locks and latches that barred every exit from the academy. Their father ran a tight ship. “Right,” she caught herself, shaking her head, “your power.”

“That’s right, as hard as the old man tries, he can’t keep me in here,” he said, whimsically, though his expression quickly darkened, “even if the rest of you aren’t so lucky.”

“Well it must be nice,” she sighed, “walking around out there without all the crowds, without having to walk in a line two by two with those domino masks on.”

“That’s one thing, at least we get to go out on missions, dad hardly ever lets you out.”

He was right, even when their father took them all on outings to the city, she was ushered out of the car by his side, never part of the procession. That was, if she was let out at all. “I guess, there’s no reason to,” she shrugged.

Five snorted, folding his arms. “And that’s what makes him terrible.”

“Five,” she hissed, “don’t say that!”

He smirked, smug but sad at the same time. “Sorry.” Of course, Vanya knew he was right. Deep down, even Luther knew, but he would be the last to admit it to himself.

“Thanks for standing up for me today,” she said, quietly. Always so quiet.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, grinning,“and who knows, maybe someday you’ll be able do it yourself.”

She gave another shy smile, skeptical. “I don’t know about that, they’re probably right to push me away. I’m no fun.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” he sighed, “just because the others say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I’m sorry.” She was looking down at the floor again, her bangs hanging down over her eyes. Five walked towards her and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, meeting his eyes. It was a difficult task most of the time, but his eyes weren’t disapproving, annoyed, disgusted. Not like everyone else’s.

“Don’t be sorry, you don’t need to be sorry just for existing.” The thought made her smile, simple though it was. It was never something she’d thought too hard about, just existing, without shame.

There was silence between them for a moment, Five ever-restless, bouncing on the balls of his feet and wringing his hands. The boy was always fizzling with energy, darting in and out of the space around them, weaving in-between the world. He was the first to break the stillness. “Do you want to come out with me?” He ventured, keenly. “I know a place I think you’ll love.”

Vanya was surprised, though she could barely disguise her delight. “You want me to sneak out?” She whispered excitedly. Her high was brought down a notch when reality dawned on her. “What if dad catches us? I really don’t think we should.” And just like that, she let go of the notion. Nothing scared her more than her father’s disapproving eyes, that furrowed brow clinging to that pretentious monocle. He saw right through her.

“It’s okay,” Five muttered, defeated, “don’t worry about it.”

“No, no, I want to,” she cried, hating the way he was frowning and looking down at the floor – a look that she knew well because she herself wore it most all the time. “That’s a great idea, but how am I going to get out? It’s not easy for me like it is for you.”

“I can take you with me, I’ve been practising, I know it’ll work.” He smirked, his mouth a broad, thin line stretching from ear to ear. Five always looked as if he was in on a joke that was lost on the rest of the world.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” he grinned, offering a hand to her. “Come on, let’s go.” She took his hand only after a moment of careful hesitation - the whole situation seemed strange to her. Why would someone want to bring her along on a night of rule-breaking escapades. She was Vanya, she’d learned to stay quiet because no one wanted to hear what she had to say, she stayed shut up in her room and pushed out of the way, never on missions or in the portraits up on the wall. Never mattering. She was no fun.

She reached out to him. “Don’t let go,” he warned. As soon as she clasped her hand in his, he turned his eyes up, peaking mischievous through his dark fringe. He flashed her a winning smile, and she felt the blood pounding in her ears as she was swallowed up into the air. She shut her eyes against the pressing sensation, the blinding brightness that surrounded them both for a split second as the world bit down. She felt her ears pop, her bones compressed. Her eyes were still pressed tightly shut when the two of them materialised outside the window, and she felt the cold night air on her face, the breeze whipping at her hair.

She opened her eyes to Five’s worries expression. “Vanya, you okay?”

She took a deep breath. She could use one of her tablets about know, father always said she should take them when she started feeling anxious or over-excited. “Yeah,” she breathed, “I’m fine it’s just,” she put a hand to her forehead, where the beginnings of a headache had began to throb, “I feel weird.”

He chuckled, “Yeah i’d imagine it’s a little strange the first time.” That was an understatement. Was this what it felt like to have a power? She felt like she was going to throw up. “It’s okay, we can just walk from here, it’s not far.”

“Okay,” she said, simply. Why was it that she could never think of something clever or funny to say? Five was good at that. “Where is it that we’re going?”

He held out his hand to her again and started leading her down the sidewalk. “There’s a donut place nearby that’s open all night. They have coffee too.”

“Donuts?” She asked. Their father didn’t allow anything like that in the house. Sugar and caffeine were weakness, he’d say, that would pollute their bodies and minds and distract from the mission at hand. Strangely enough, he always kept the bar stocked up. She’d never had a donut, only the cupcakes that they all got on their birthday, and batches of cookies that mom made when their father was too busy to notice, which was most of the time.

“Yeah, and they’re fantastic,” he grinned. “Come on, it’s this way.”

It was eerie, to walk through the streets in near silence, just the two of them. They passed the occasional stranger, some of whom stopped to consider the ten-year-olds in school uniform wandering the streets alone at night - but none were concerned enough the comment. There were stranger things out there.

For Vanya, it was the best night of her life. She kept her eyes wide open against the dark, stinging as the mottled lights of street lamps and headlights merged. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a buzz that came with breaking the rules that kept her shut out and locked away. Tonight was going to be fantastic.

It took about a half hour to walk all the way to Griddy’s Donuts – a modest, more-than-a-little-grimy diner that was unremarkable among all the other modest, more-than-a-little-grimy diners that littered the city. Vanya could tell that Five was getting restless – she expected that he would using teleport most of the way, taking down a few blocks at a time – but he was patient, and he pointed out his favourite buildings and shopfronts along the way. The neon sign of the donut shop was missing a good half of it’s letters and the jarring yellow and red paint was cracked and peeling at the edges. Five would come to this place many years later and be surprised by the general dilapidation of the establishment compared to the place he remembered but, truth was, everything seemed a little brighter as a child – especially to a child that was never allowed out of the house to see an array of more well-to-so eateries. Coming upon those flashing lights, a-buzz with electricity, Vanya was just as awe-struck as Five had hoped she’d be, and he grinned with pride as he ushered her into the front door.

“This place is amazing,” she breathed, “it’s just like something off of the TV.” The television was yet another seldom acquired commodity in the lives of the Hargreeves children – while their father had a respect for the furthering of science and technology, he spat at such trivial applications as prime-time TV and Saturday morning cartoons. What he didn’t know, shut up in his office all day, couldn’t hurt him. “Do you come here all the time, Five?”

“Not all the time, just a couple – sneaking money out of the office is hard work,” he winked. Vanya giggled, “you should be careful, what if he catches you?”

“Trust me, he won’t.” He seemed sure, and so she believed him. “Come on,” he beckoned, waltzing forwards with confidence. Vanya trailed behind, cautious of the waitress standing behind the bar. Five must have noticed her worrying because he muttered “never mind her, she doesn’t care that we’re kids, I think she just wants to get out of her when her shift is up.” Now that he’d told her this, that fact was self-evident. The waitress was a young woman with scraggly dark hair and one of the most uninviting expressions she’d ever seen. The little pink dress and matching hat struck a comical contrast with her indifferent demeanour. As the two of the approached the bar, she pulled out a small notebook and blew a strand of hair from her heavily-lidded eyes.

“Two jelly donuts, please,” Five announced, grinning. He held out a crumpled handful of paper notes that he pulled out of his blazer.

The waitress rolled her eyes and took it, “coming right up,” she mumbled.

The siblings sat on neighbouring red barstools, giddy with excitement. “Hey Vanya,” Five whispered, leaning over to her, “check this out.” He spun around on the stool, the plastic top creaking as it did, “they spin!”

Vanya broke out into a fit of giggling and did the same. The motion pushed the hair from her eyes and out into an arc. She kept her knees tucked tight and spun faster. There was a flash of blue light and Vanya halted her stool, holding her spinning head. Five had rematerialised behind the bar. He was leaning forward onto the counter on his elbow, eyebrow raised. “And what can I get for you this fine evening, Madame?”

Vanya laughed louder this time, so did he. The two of them were cut off as the waitress returned and grunted, “what are you doing, kid?” Five smiled widely at Vanya and teleported back to the stool beside her. The waitress only seemed shocked for a second, then simply rubber her eyes and continued her slog towards the counter. People would excuse the strangest of things, especially when they were tired.

“There you go,” she placed two ceramic plates onto the bar surface, each of them sporting soft, icing-sugar glazed donuts with sweet jam oozing out of the centre. Vanya licked her lips.

“Now Vanya,” Five declared, raising the donut to his mouth, “you’ve gotta be careful to do this right the first time, there’s only one way to eat a jelly-filled donut.”

She smirked, “and which way would that be?” He turned his chin up, a look of pride on his face. She started a drumroll going on the bar, building up until – Five bit halfway into the donut in one go, sending jelly-insides spurting outwards, covering his mouth and cheeks. She started laughing again, watching the jelly dribble down onto his pristine collar. It took him a while to swallow, but he was grinning all the way. “Poor mom,” Vanya cried, “how’s she going to get that off!”

He chuckled. “Alright, Nummmberrrr Seven,” he let off a drumroll and announced her like a ringmaster. “You’re up.” “Oh, I can do better than that!” She cried, raising her own donut to her face. Part of her wanted to savour every small bite, but this was much more fun. She bit down in the centre and felt the jam burst out onto her cheeks, felt strings of it in her hair. Normally, she’d be mortified. Five cheered for her, whooping and pumping his fist. The donut was delicious, of course, and Five watched her enjoy it with a sense of accomplishment on his face while he finished his own. She did the same, now that the theatrics were over.

“These are actually really good,” she said, once she’d cleaned her plate, “I wonder if mom could make them for us at home.”

“We could ask, but there’s something special about coming out here to get time, then we don’t have to share them with any of the others.” It might have sounded mean at first, but Vanya couldn’t agree more. She’d love to have a secret, something that was just for her and Five – freedom and hope all wrapped up in glazed bun. Five pulled another crumpled note out of his pocket and placed it on the counter. The waitress eyed it suspiciously for a moment before snatching it up. “Come on, we should head back to the house.”

They were louder on the journey back, both of them brimming with energy and riding a sweet sugar high. They danced around on the pavers, jumped over gutters, running hand in hand – both of them felt almost like regular kids.

Vanya felt herself already missing the night when they approached her bedroom window from the alley that ran along the side of the house. Even the night was quieter now, as it turned to early morning. A tingle of deep blue stained the black of the sky, threatening day and eating up stars. They stood out in the cold for a moment, cheeks flushed and bodies shivering.

“We should sneak out every night!” Vanya exclaimed.

“Wow Vanya,” he chuckled, “I didn’t think that I’d have to be the responsible one, we need sleep too.”

“Oh alright,” she sighed jokingly.

“How about once a week, maybe twice.” She nodded enthusiastically. He paused for a moment, still restlessly twitching his fingers and rolling his heels. “You know, when I came in here I wasn’t sure what to expect. I remember when we all used to play together as little kids but I thought that maybe you wouldn’t like doing stupid stuff like running around in the streets or making a mess of jelly donuts.”

She smiled, a little melancholy creeping back. “I thought maybe I wouldn’t either. Five,” she asked, weighing down her options on his answer, “do you think that maybe – maybe I’m not so boring, like the others say?”

“Of course you’re not, they just don’t give you a chance to join in.” He took her hand again, and she felt that energy surging as the blue lights swirled. “You’re just as good as them – better, actually. You’re smart, and brave, and your music is beautiful.” That’s right, he used to sit by her as she played in the library, reading with a smile on his face. “Vanya,” he looked into her eyes as the space around them swallowed them up, “you’re extraordinary.”

[artificialqueens]

Just The Game We're In- Chapter 5, Part I- Ortega

A/N: HELLO YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!! Do you see how quickly I can work now that I don’t have uni???? (yes a month and a half is quick work in terms of this fic). I have been so excited to bring you this chapter for ages, but i’ve actually split it into two parts because even I draw the limit at submitting 17.000 words all at once, there is only so much mobile users can take. Anyway, this evening we head to Alyssa Edwards’ charity ball. Enjoy! I love you all so much! i have the best readers in the world bc you are always both patient and forever excited and i love you for that. shoutout to my AQ Brit cheerleader hoes ur literally the best

Plot Summary: Willam is a senior political advisor to the government’s minister for social affairs and citizenship, Sharon Needles. Throw in a crush on co-worker Courtney, Sharon acting weird around Willam’s colleague Alaska, an incompetent press department headed by Actual Living Zombie Jinkx Monsoon, and Willam’s job couldn’t get much more stressful. No wonder spin doctor Bianca Del Rio is permanently at the end of her tether…

Question: How do you draw attention from a terrifyingly massive fuck-up of an interview?

Answer: Find redemption.

Except nothing was happening in politics the week before Christmas Day, so there was no way to find this redemption. Willam had already bore witness to the verbal colonic Bianca had thrown Sharon’s way in the wake of the Five Live interview, slapping down the day’s newspapers on her desk which had both Sharon and Phi Phi’s faces on their front looking incredibly sheepish. So Sharon had stayed low for the past week or so, the girls in the office flinging all their efforts behind her refugee housing policy ready for its release by New Year, when Sharon, Alaska and Violet would make the trip over to Brussels. Jinkx had even been behind its horrifically cheesy slogan- Sharon is caring- which made no sense if it wasn’t read in an American accent, but was sadly still the best efforts of a collective group of 5.

Willam was glad, though. Work had been incredibly high-octane of late and it was nice for the department to go into Christmas without feeling as if Bianca was throwing them at a hundred miles per hour towards a wall made of nails, broken glass, and fire. She didn’t know it was possible for the comms team to be even more laid-back than they already were, but they were; Trixie and Katya both on Amazon for each other’s Christmas presents whilst the other wasn’t looking, Jinkx on the phone to someone enquiring about Christmas turkeys, and Violet and Adore not even remotely disguising the fact they were watching Love Actually instead of doing their job. Occasionally an email would be sent or a phone would be picked up, but overall it was all quiet on the Westminster front.

It was great to see Courtney relaxed and happy again too. Their friendship was now completely mended and back to normal after the wobble of before, Courtney now even seeming a little more warm and like her out-of-work self, although that was probably down to the fact it was so close to the holiday season. Every day she would come into work more excited for Christmas than the day before and her cheerfulness was beginning to rub off on Willam, despite the fact that she hated the 25th of December with a burning passion. The pressure to be happy, especially with family, on Christmas Day was frightening and Willam dreaded it more and more each year. But somehow Courtney made her feel a bit better about it all, her voice lilting through the office and making Michael Buble that bit more bearable.

Their work wasn’t completely over, however. There was still one tiny little hurdle the department had to jump before they could celebrate Christmas, and that was Alyssa Edwards’ charity ball at the Dorchester. Alyssa was a Baroness, extremely wealthy and a member of the House of Lords, and yet somehow she wasn’t a complete and utter arsehole. Alyssa was well-renowned for using her money for good, setting up two childrens’ charities and using her wealth and notoriety to encourage everyone who was anyone in politics to donate to them. This ball was no exception, and there would be a lot of big names attending. Willam couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Darienne had never been extended an invite before, and therefore neither had her advisors. But presumably Alyssa had seen something of worth in Sharon, and so this was the first year that Willam had been invited to attend too. Sure, the whole night would really be about politics but she would rather be business networking surrounded by champagne and canapes than the same old scenery of the office.

It was for that reason that Willam arrived to work on the Friday morning absolutely buzzing for the evening ahead. It had been ages since she’d had the chance to dress up and admittedly she was looking forward to a night of mingling and experiencing how the other half lived. Walking from the lift to the corridor and into Dosac’s offices, she felt there was a similar sort of buzz in the air. Even the comms team were chatting excitedly.

“Morning, slagbags,” Willam hollered into the office, met with a couple of yells back. As she flung her bag and coat down on her desk, Courtney shot across the office on her wheely chair, making a beeline for where Willam stood.

“Will, oh my God! I’m so excited for tonight, I’ve been looking forward to it since literally forever,” she babbled, speaking at about seventy miles an hour and causing Willam to simply blink at her with both amusement and affection. 

“Yeah, you sound it,” she joked, flinching as Courtney walloped her on the arm.

“Let me have my moment! It’s a Baroness Edwards ball, Willam. This is a big fucking deal!!”

“Baroness Edwards. Girl, it’s Alyssa,” Willam laughed at Courtney’s formality.

Courtney looked up at her with one eyebrow raised, a look of disbelief on her face that Willam noticed made her look cuter than ever. “I’m just being polite. Have you met the woman? Has she said it’s okay to call her by her first name?”

“No, but you’ve seen her interviews. The woman is batshit mental,” Willam shrugged. Courtney mirrored her body language, clearly concluding that Willam was right. Alyssa was a little bit kooky and not by any means a stereotypical baroness; always joking and laughing in the House of Lords, acting as if every interviewer was her best friend, screeching and squawking and generally acting like a big joker. Many of her colleagues hated her, but she was so well-loved by the public that there was never really anything they could say. In Willam’s view, Alyssa Edwards was the best argument against abolishing the House of Lords that they had.

Turning her attention away from Courtney, hard as it was, Willam addressed the comms team who were still chattering like an excited flock of birds.

“What’s got you guys so hyped, anyway? It’s not like Alyssa extended her invite to you guys.”

“Shut up, you elitist cunt,” Katya laughed, throwing a pen at Willam from halfway across the room.

“If you must know,” Trixie leaned over in her chair and batted her lashes. “Us and the comms team from the opposition are having our own little ball this evening.”

“Trixie, stop calling it a ball,” Adore laughed loudly at her friend. Turning to address Willam, she explained. “We’re getting dressed up, eating at Wahacca, drinking until we can’t see and then going out.”  

“Wow, guys. Dream big,” Willam said blankly, earning her a packet of staples, this time from Violet.

“It’s a ball because we’re ballers,” Trixie said proudly, leaning back in her chair and receiving a disgusted glare from her girlfriend.

“I’m breaking up with you,” Katya said in her own deadpan way.

Jinkx piped up from behind her own monitor. “I have to say, I’m slightly jealous. Your evening is going to be far more fun than mine.”

“Jinkx, you’re getting to attend an Alyssa Edwards ball. Shut up,” Adore rolled her eyes at the senior press officer, Jinkx’s job title bagging her an invite too.

“Yeah, I’ll take your invite,” Violet offered playfully.

“Rather you than Jinkx, to be honest,” Willam quipped, laughing with Violet as Jinkx shot her a glare.

“I’d throw my post-its at you but I’d like the comms team to at least have some items of stationary left by the time Sharon arrives.”

“Shit!” Courtney looked at the clock and shot up from her chair. It was too late, however, as just then Sharon came round the corner and into the offices with her two red briefcases in her hands and Alaska just at her back.

“Courtney, I really would love to be met at the doors tomorrow. I mean, I am a cabinet minister, not a fucking bag lady,” Sharon chastised her, Courtney pulling a face as Alaska sat down at her desk.

“Why couldn’t you do it?” Courtney hissed at her friend as she sat down. Alaska sighed and shook her head.

“I was late. I had my own bags,” she said not-quite-apologetically as she logged in to her computer. Courtney rolled her eyes as she dragged her chair back over to her own desk and sat down on it.

“You’ve been late more than you’ve been early recently. Lask, I love you, but as your friend and your workmate, get your head out your ass,” she continued, typing forcefully into her own keyboard.

Willam momentarily thought to herself that it wasn’t her own ass Alaska needed to remove her head from.

“I mean, what must Sharon think?” Courtney tutted, her face now nervous. Just then, Sharon’s voice could be heard calling the girls through to the meeting room.

“Well we’re about to find out,” Alaska drawled lazily, swinging her chair round and leading the way towards the room at the top of the department, Willam, Courtney and Jinkx following behind her.

As soon as Willam entered the meeting room, she could see Sharon sitting at the head of the table, a massive excited smile on her face.

“Oh, Jesus, not you too,” Jinkx sighed as she sat down. Sharon raised an eyebrow at her, her expression completely changing.

“What me too?”

“Everyone’s pissing their pants for this charity ball but nobody’s actually seeing it for what it is, which is a massive money-making scheme for Alyssa Edwards’ businesses,” Jinkx sighed, crossing her legs lazily. Alaska snorted.

“They’re not businesses, Jinkx, they’re charities! They help kids.”

“Well, all I’m saying is that if Sharon ends up drunk and paying ten thousand pounds for a Birken bag at the auction, don’t come crying to me.”

“There’s a charity auction?! Ooh!” Sharon gasped excitedly, her pitch rising about an octave. Rolling her eyes, Jinkx pointed her pen in Sharon’s direction.

“Case and point.”

“There’s also poker and roulette tables!” Courtney chimed in, her excitement now reaching boiling point. Jinkx and Willam shared an exasperated look.

“Anyway,” Willam cut in before any more of the meeting was spent on anything else off-topic. “Why are we here, exactly?”

“Right, well,” Sharon started, at once business-like again. “Bianca’s heading here in ten minutes for a meeting, and I’m assuming it’s to brief me about tonight. So I want to be one step ahead. Ladies, give me the info.”

“So the main thing is that even though this night may be guising as recreational, it’s not. It’s all business,” Jinkx began, as the other girls nodded.

“We’ll introduce you to some big names and try to get them onside. Kimora Blac is very up-and-coming, it would be good to get in with her,” Courtney mused, leaning on the table with her elbows.

“Isn’t she just a Buzzfeed journalist? Do we really need Sharon’s coverage to be a listicle entitled ‘TWENTY REASONS WHY SHARON NEEDLES IS #MOM #BAE #QUEEN’?” Willam cut in with a sneer. Courtney frowned at her.

“Hey, she might work for Buzzfeed but she seems very astute. Her articles are really interesting, and she’d be good with The Independent if she ever decided to apply there. Her tweets always blow up too, she might come across as an airhead but she’s actually very sharp. We’ll get you talking,” Courtney insisted to Sharon, Willam shrugging and trusting her faith in the young journalist. 

“Anyone else?” Sharon asked hopefully.

“We’ll get you talking to Michaels again, she seemed keen last time and it’s good to keep up appearances,” Alaska suggested, earning her a nod from both Courtney and Jinkx. “We’ll try and introduce you to Raja Gemini too before she inevitably interviews you. She has a tendency to go ham on ministers she doesn’t see eye to eye with, so it’d be good to make a first impression in a more chilled environment.”

“Christ, no pressure,” Sharon exhaled loudly.

“It is a charity ball. That being said, don’t spend mad amounts of money,” Jinkx advised. “Just stay away from any opportunity to spend. The fundraisers are for the rich kids and for the parties who can afford to be seen spending money. We’re the working people’s party, not the spending people’s party.”

“It’s for charity, for fuck’s sake. Would the media really object to me spending if it was in aid of poor little kids with cholera?” Sharon sighed, kicking her feet up onto the table in front of her.

“Trust me, Sharon, it’s maybe not the best idea,” Courtney reasoned.

“Oh, and don’t be seen with a drink in your hand. You take one glass of free champagne and that’s it,” Willam said, her mind suddenly filled with nightmarish images of Sharon vomiting on the red carpet for the world’s media to see. Sharon’s face instantly grew disappointed. Alaska and the other girls laughed.

“Come on, Willam. Everyone will be drinking!” she chuckled, leaning back in her chair. Willam gave her a side glare.

“Well, do what you like. I’m not sold on it, but we can’t control you,” she shrugged, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“So champagne all round then,” Sharon cheered, Courtney clapping excitably in response. No more could be said, however, as a harsh voice rang out through the department and the unmistakable sound of stilettos on a carpeted floor came closer and closer to the meeting room. 

“No, I don’t care that he’s saying no. Well just get it done, right? Or I’ll turn you into a human fucking plug socket. And I can do that, by the way, I took all three sciences to A level,” Bianca hurtled into her phone as she arrived before swiping swiftly across the screen, the conversation clearly over. Pocketing her phone, she then turned to address the room. “Okay, good morning ladies. I hope you’ve all had a good night’s rest because the information I am about to impart to you is probably the most important thing you will hear all day, and I need you to retain it.”

Sharon leaned back in her chair lazily. “Bianca, it’s fine. These guys have briefed me already. The ball will be fine. It’ll be just like playing Sims. Mash the Schmooze button with every fucker I see.”

Bianca’s face was immediately painted with a sneer. “This…this is not about Alyssa Edwards’ fucking ball! I don’t care what you do at that, as long as you’re not seen sniffing ket off of the foreign secretary’s balls.”

“Well there’s no danger of that.” Jinkx piped up, bristling a little.

“What is this about, then?” Willam asked, suddenly intrigued. Bianca’s face did look very foreboding, as if she was about to impart knowledge that would make the fabric of reality split in two. Bianca took a quick look out of the glass-fronted office to see if anyone was hovering nearby. They weren’t. Seemingly satisfied, she leaned on the table and lowered her voice.

“The Prime Minister has finally decided to do something about the refugee crisis.”

Sharon’s face lit up. “Oh, thank God! This is amazing, we’re fina-”

“Hold your horses,” Bianca shut Sharon down, lifting one hand up to pause her. “It’s not what you’d expect. He’s…well, within the next few years…wants to take immigration out of government hands.”

There was a silence in the room. Willam was completely confused. Courtney was the first to speak.

“What so like…military control?”

“Privatisation.”

The mood in the room shifted considerably. Willam and Sharon shared a glance. From what Willam could gather, Sharon seemed tense.

“This…” she began, then stopped. Her brow was furrowed, and she appeared to be deep in thought. “I don’t understand how this is going to work.”

Bianca leaned against the glass door. She seemed not 100% at ease with it all either, as if she was the bearer of bad news. “Well, it’s standard privatisation. The government offer a contract for border control. Companies make offers. Lowest offer wins. They control the borders and immigration is out of government hands.”

“This surely isn’t-”

“Yes, Alaska. This is the PM’s legacy. He’s-”

There was suddenly a knock on the half-open glass door. As Willam craned her neck she saw Adore hovering nervously. The room fell silent and she seemed to take that as a cue to take one tentative step inside.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said quietly. Then, as her eyes rested on Jinkx, she seemed to relax a little. “Jinkx, we’re getting some calls about Alyssa’s ball tonight? There’s rumours that security are going to be keeping Sharon and Phi Phi away from each other?”

Jinkx gave a biblical roll of her eyes. “Who is it that’s phoning?”

Adore pulled a face. “The Sun, The Star. The Daily Mail potentially?”

“Tell them to stick a goose up their arse,” Jinkx snapped back. With a hasty nod of her head, Adore retreated. All focus was back to Bianca, whose face had suddenly taken on a suspicious glare.

“How long had she been there?”

“Oh, Bianca, for fuck’s sake. She’s just a civil service puppet, don’t worry about her. Who you should be worried about is me,” Sharon’s tone was suddenly dark as she looked Bianca dead in the eye. Willam was a little shocked, and judging by the panicked look she shared with Courtney, she wasn’t the only one. “Because I will be fighting this tooth and nail in parliament. This is not happening.”

“It’s sweet how you think this is up for debate. It isn’t. I came here to inform you of this because it will hit the press after New Year, and I want you aware of the line which is obviously that this is the greatest fucking idea since sliced bread. Except it’s better than that, because as good things go sliced bread is a bit fucking shit. Just say it’s the best thing since cocaine and strippers,” Bianca ended flippantly. Sharon narrowed her eyes.

“Bianca,” she began coldly, her voice shaking a little with anger. “I need you to understand that I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that this doesn’t go ahead.”

Bianca lowered her voice and drew her brows together, her face snarling in a scowl. “And I need you to understand that it is your job to ensure that it does go ahead. This is not up for debate, Sharon. ”

Seething, Sharon threw herself back in her chair, her head ricocheting off its headrest as if she was a crash test dummy. She folded her arms across her chest and her face looked deep in thought. Bianca ran a frustrated hand through her caramel curls and exhaled noisily, glad the conversation was over.

“Well. That’ll be that then. I’ll see you lot this evening, you’ll be able to find me at the bar drowning myself in amaretto and trying to pretend I’m interested in what Lord Huxby drones on at me.”

With a few muted goodbyes, Bianca was off again back through the department. As soon as she was out of earshot, Sharon instantly flew out of her seat.

 “What the fuck is the PM playing at?!” she yelled, pacing around the small space of office that wasn’t taken up by the huge table. “Privatisation? That’s meant to be Phi Phi’s fucking mantra, I mean what is this party turning into?!”

Nobody else in the room really knew what to say, least of all Willam. It did seem a strange move from the Prime Minister, and one that the public would surely pick up on. Sharon was still pacing, her entire aura one of rage.

“Minister, would you like me to prepare a statement to put out when the announcement of the legacy goes through?” Jinkx asked hesitantly, looking with anxiety at Alaska as she did so. Sharon stopped pacing, waving a hand at Jinkx dismissively.

“No, no thank you, Jinkx. I just need time to think, if everyone could maybe just give me some time on my own,” Sharon sighed, rubbing the back of her neck in agitation. “This is not happening. There is no way I’m letting the lives of immigrants get put in the hands of some company that’s just going to cut corners wherever it can. I just need to think of a way to oppose it without making too many waves.”

Willam let out an incredulous snort which turned all the heads in the room her way. She was a little taken aback, then explained. “Sorry, Sharon, I just don’t know how you’re going to fight the Prime Minister’s legacy without making too many waves.”

Sharon paused, then shrugged and gave a little half-smile. “Well maybe I’ll just have to capsize some motherfuckers.”

Giving her an amused smile, Willam got up and dutifully made to leave, Courtney and Jinkx following behind her. Willam didn’t miss the way Alaska hovered at the door as if to make sure Sharon didn’t want any company, but a reassuring glance from her girlfriend resulted in her leaving the room and shutting the glass door behind her. As they walked back to their desks, Courtney huffed a huge sigh.

“That was a lot,” she said, raising her eyebrows a little.

“Yeah. I’m concerned. I hope Sharon’s not going to do anything rash,” Alaska frowned, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Willam gave her a sideways glance.

“Come on, girl. She’ll be fine, she knows what she’s doing.”

Alaska’s shoulders slumped a little. “I just wish I could talk to her.”

Willam tensed a little, wondering if Courtney would pick up on the implications of Alaska’s statement. She didn’t seem to.

“Well, let’s just hope she’s out of her huff before Alyssa’s tonight. I don’t suspect the Baroness will take kindly to Sharon if she’s in a massive mood. Ooh, speaking of Alyssa’s!” Courtney beamed suddenly, an idea only just seeming to come to her. “Why don’t you guys come round to mine before we head to the Dorchester? Then Sharon’s car won’t have to go to every flat before arriving. We can get some cava or prosecco and have a chill. It’ll be cute!”

Willam felt like she’d been shocked by a defibrillator.  Why was she suddenly nervous? It was just spending time with friends, she’d done it before, but never in Courtney’s flat. The suggestion of this new setting panicked Willam a little, made everything feel a little more intimate. It shouldn’t have scared her so much.

Swallowing her nerves, Willam forced a smile on her face which she hoped made her look carefree and not constipated. “Sounds good, yeah. I’m down.”

“Same! It’ll be fun,” Alaska beamed, managing to sound ten times more relaxed than Willam felt. Excitement painted on her face, Courtney turned to the comms team.

“Jinkx? Come to mine before Sharon picks us up? We’ll have bubbles!”

Jinkx leaned back in her chair and gave the three an amused smile. “It’s a lovely offer, Courtney, but I think I’ll just get ready with a cup of tea and Nina Simone and Sharon can pick me up before yours. I’m staying off the bubbles this evening, just in case I’m needed.”

“Yeah, who knows. There might be a political emergency where they need someone with an extensive knowledge of televised Poirot murder mysteries,” Willam smirked, leaning back on her desk. Jinkx simply gave her a roll of her eyes. Secretly, though, Willam was glad they’d have two guaranteed sober members of Dosac there this evening. She should probably make it three. Willam was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts as Courtney grabbed both her and Alaska in an animated hug.

“This is going to be such a good night!” she squealed, squeezing them both tightly before legging go. As she returned to her desk, Willam walked back to her own in a slight daze. It didn’t make any sense for her to be nervous. Taking a deep breath, she tried to convince herself that there was nothing to get worked up about; tonight would just be a nice night with friends, and there was no real scope for anything to go wrong.

Casting an eye back up to the meeting room and seeing Sharon still deep in thought only made her worry increase tenfold.

***

Willam stood in front of the full-length mirror that had been crammed into one corner of her studio flat. Sighing and sucking her stomach in, she scrutinised herself ruthlessly. Her hair was good, that was a given. She’d managed to tame it and barrel-curl it into huge waves, then pin it over one shoulder in a sort of Jessica Rabbit style. It wasn’t really her. But it still looked good.

Her makeup was adequate at least. Anything that had gone wrong had been concealed over; one corner of her eye where her eyeliner had decided to backstab her now sported about 15 layers of the damn thing. She cursed herself for how basic she’d gone as she stared down her burnt gold smoky eye and red lip. Casting an eye down the rest of her body, that was where the real insecurity began. She’d fallen in love with her dress when she bought it, but with every passing second the doubt in her mind grew. The bodycon mid-length, long-sleeved cream dress with little dimantes all over it now seemed a horrific choice, like some tacky girl’s prom dress and not a smart ballgown meant for an incredibly opulent evening. Willam grabbed her invite from her adjacent dressing table and read it over again. Was this dress black tie? What even was black tie?! She didn’t wear a fucking tie!

Sighing, she acknowledged there wasn’t much she could do to change it now. Still, the apprehension and panic was eating her up inside. She knew this was still basically work; a massive ass-kissing event to try and get Sharon networked, but Willam also knew this meant she would get to spend an extensive length of time around both Courtney and alcohol and she tried to avoid those situations as much as possible for fear of her stupid mouth opening and saying something she shouldn’t. Thinking back to her uni days, she gave a little shudder at the sheer extent of things she could blame on just that. For a moment, she felt her throat go completely dry as she thought about what Courtney might wear.

She’d not been this nervous in a long time, in fact probably not since she started the job at Dosac all those years ago. She absolutely hated the feeling of not being able to control her palpitating heart, or her shallow breathing, or her pulse that was now thudding underneath her skin at the speed of a freight train. Anger was fine; she could generally channel that into something productive, and Willam never allowed herself to get sad (or at least that’s what she’d tell everyone), but nerves were different. No amount of logical, motivational internal speeches to herself would help. Sighing an incredibly shaky sigh, Willam peered at her phone and checked the time. She’d left enough minutes to allow for traffic so that she would get to Courtney’s bang on time, but now she was overthinking that too. If she was too early, that would seem weirdly keen. If she was late, she would seem rude. If she was on time it would seem like she’d overthought the situation, which she definitely wasn’t doing at all. With a sort of gulp of an intake of breath, Willam began dialling a taxi company to book, managing to speak to the operator despite the fact she felt her vocal cords would crack with how dry her throat was. After she’d confirmed the taxi, she did a double-check of her clutch bag to make sure she had her survival kit for the night. Phone, cards, a few twenties and tens. Keys, caffeine tablets. A miniscule sample bottle of perfume and her lipstick, as well as tissues just in case. She cursed whoever invented clutch bags for making it acceptable to carry a fucking tiny rectangle around under your arm of an evening. Suddenly remembering her invite, Willam folded it in half and stuck it inside her clutch, which was slowly beginning to resemble Mary Poppins’ carpet bag.

As her phone began to ring signalling the arrival of her taxi outside, Willam hurriedly slipped on a pair of nude heels- which she’d later realise didn’t go with her dress- and took one last look around her room of a flat before leaving. It was a total mess of clothes, makeup and hair products, but future Willam could deal with it. Opening the door and then clicking it closed, she carefully made her way down her stairwell and into the black cab that was waiting for her.

Now that she was on the road and on the way to Courtney’s Brixton flat, Willam felt herself calming down just a little. At least she was now on the move, and it wasn’t as if it would simply be the both of them alone together; Alaska would be there too and Willam supposed it was quite impossible to be nervous around the most relaxed human alive. Willam shot a quick text off to Courtney just to let her know she was on the way, and then decided to let herself relax just a little. She couldn’t at all, but at least the effort had been made to try.

Soon enough the taxi pulled up outside Courtney’s unthreatening-looking apartment building. Willam crammed one of her notes through the little pane of Perspex glass that separated driver and passenger and stepped outside, clip-clopping up to the front door and pushing the buzzer for Courtney’s flat. She was met around five seconds later with a loud buzz as the front door was opened, allowing Willam to walk up one flight of stairs. She felt as if she was walking into either heaven or hell; the giddy excitement and the underlying feeling of dread she felt simultaneously made it hard to tell which. Reaching Courtney’s door, she almost felt like the breath was being knocked out of her lungs as it opened, only to find Alaska on the other side of it smiling widely and holding a champagne flute full of orange juice.

“Hiiieee, girl!” she squealed as she wrapped Willam in a welcoming hug, her signature greeting providing Willam with a sense of comfort in the chaos that was currently her mind. “Come in, Court’s not ready yet. Shock.”

Stumbling slightly as Alaska showed her to the living room, Willam quickly scanned her surroundings. Courtney’s flat seemed small but modern, although it had definitely had a couple of previous owners judging by general wear and tear- a scuff on a skirting board here, a chip out of the plaster in one wall there. Then again, Willam would be loath to judge her based on the state she left her own flat in. Alaska ushered Willam through to a bright, airy-looking living room, with two medium-sized leather sofas providing bookends for a coffee table with a few bottles of nail polish, some empty champagne flutes, an open bottle of prosecco, and a few crumpled pieces of cotton wool sitting on top of it. There was a wall-mounted TV sitting at one end of the sofas, and at the other end of the room there was a simple dining setup with a table and six mismatched chairs.

“You look beautiful, girl,” Alaska smiled at Willam, picking up an empty flute and filling it with prosecco.

“Thanks, so do you,” Willam simultaneously accepted and returned the compliment, still getting used to her new surroundings as she accepted the glass that Alaska shoved into her hand without even thinking. She hadn’t planned on drinking anything tonight, but she was beginning to feel as if she’d need just one glass. Realising how flippantly she’d given the compliment back, she examined Alaska’s outfit more closely. She’d gone for a floor-length dress, a simple strapless royal blue number with a fishtail lower half. Her hair was pinned up, but not in its usual bird’s nest; instead it was arranged in an elaborate set of plaits and twists that made for an intricate bun. Her make-up had clearly been well thought-out, and was immaculate as a result.

“So how much of tonight is really going to be about work?” Alaska asked dryly, raising one perfect eyebrow. Willam let out a laugh.

“A solid 100%,” she instantly replied, pausing as she took a sip from her glass. The prosecco was good. “All it’s going to be is us introducing Sharon to various wankers from the media and hoping she goes down well.”

“Well there’s no question around that, of course she will,” Alaska shrugged, leaning back on the couch. Willam felt her top lip curl in disagreement.

“Alaska you’re biased as fuck,” she said simply, Alaska rolling her eyes as she was met with words she clearly didn’t want to hear.

“Yeah, but come on Will. Even you have to admit she’s likeable, and I know you don’t even like many people.”

Willam simply shrugged and took a sip of her prosecco. It was working wonders to loosen her up, although she was still acutely aware of the fact that Courtney hadn’t emerged from her room yet. Alaska seemed to think the same thing in the silence.

“COURT! Hurry the fuck up, Willam’s about to drink all your alcohol,” she yelled through the walls, Courtney giving a muffled reply that Willam couldn’t really make out. Alaska shook her head and laughed long-sufferingly, then seemed to pick up on Willam’s anxiety.

“She looks beautiful, by the way,” Alaska mentioned nonchalantly, avoiding Willam’s death glare by staring into her glass of orange juice.

“Don’t you dare,” Willam pointed one fake-nailed talon towards her friend as a simple warning.

“I’m not doing anything! I’m just saying,” Alaska smiled smugly, tipping a little more of her orange juice into her mouth. Swallowing, she continued. “Do you think you’ll say anything to her tonight?”

“No, and I won’t be saying anything to her for a considerable amount of time. This conversation is ending now,” Willam barked a reply, Alaska’s questioning only putting her further on edge. She didn’t mean to upset her friend and snap, but she was already so anxious and nervous that talking about the situation would surely make it worse. Alaska seemed to take Willam’s nerves on the chin though, simply raising her eyebrows in amusement. Relaxing her face, she then took out her phone, glancing at it for a few seconds. Willam watched as her face grew disappointed.

“You alright, girl?” she asked, concerned about her friend who now seemed to be attempting to conceal her feelings.

“Oh, yeah. Sure! I just…Sharon. Just sent me a photo. And she looks so amazing, and I’m so proud to call her my girlfriend, you know?” Alaska sighed, Willam feeling the weight of her heavy heart hanging in the atmosphere.

“Well that’s good, right? Nothing about what you said is something to be sad about, unless I’ve taken a bump to the fucking skull and woken up in a world where happy is now sad, and sad is now happy, and Lorraine Kelly is the president of Iran, and cous-cous has been privatised,” Willam joked, trying to lighten the mood. It earned her one very weak smile from Alaska.  

“No, I’m happy! Of course I’m happy. It’s just…well, I wish I could show her off to everyone tonight and be public and proud of her and disgustingly PDA,” she shrugged, her shoulders radiating disappointment. Willam was confused.

“Girl, not that it’s any of my business but when are you gonna go public? You and Sharon can’t stay under wraps forever, she’s a politician. The media are on her like a hawk 24/7.”

Alaska rolled her eyes. “I know that, Will, of course I know that. It’s not without want of trying. I mean, our whole first date we couldn’t do anything like what couples would normally do in case there were paps somehow nearby. She was so paranoid. She still is.”

Remembering her political stance, Willam pulled a face. “To be fair, I guess she’s trying to keep the professional balance. You have to remember she’s still your boss, girl.”

Sighing, Alaska nodded and picked at a piece of her nail polish that had already developed a chip. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. And I mean I’ll always support Sharon’s career, she’s good at what she does, and that’s not me being biased. I knew what I was getting myself into when I fell for her, I’ve only got myself to blame. I just…sometimes wish we were a normal couple, you know?”

Willam gave a nod of support, and the two sat in companionable silence for a while. Willam was worried for Alaska. She was such a sweet friend, and Willam had never seen her with someone before. She was so conflicted, the professional and personal sides of her brain sitting like a small devil and a small angel on her shoulders. On the one hand, it would be hell for the party if it got out that Sharon was seeing one of her advisors, but on the other all Willam really wanted was for Alaska to be happy, which was clearly what she was. Willam couldn’t help but wonder, though, how long such a relationship could go on for. From her calculations Sharon and Alaska had been together for a month now, a month of sneaking around together and doing everything secretively and privately. It was a little what Willam imagined cheating to feel like, except she couldn’t quite work out who the two women were actually cheating on. It had only been just over two weeks when Willam had found out about them and even that was completely by accident. If the media even got a whiff of an inter-party relationship and made the effort to investigate it, who knew how long it would take before they could raise hell with the information. It made Willam shudder a little.

“You are being careful though, right girl? You and Sharon,” she said quietly, breaking the silence. Alaska snorted playfully.

“Yeah. She uses condoms and I’m on the pill and neither one of us is pregnant.”

Willam couldn’t help but splutter a laugh mid-way through a sip of prosecco. “Bitch, shut up! You know what I mean. I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want the media treating you guys as their chew toy.”

Clearly not in the mood to be serious, Alaska rested her head in her hands and looked affectionately at Willam. “Aww, is Willam Belli actually being…nice? Showing concern? This is impossible. Next minute she’ll be surrounded by bluebirds and shedding tears.”

“You know I had my tear ducts cauterised shut at the age of 12,” Willam joked back, leaning back in her chair and finally relaxing, trusting Alaska’s judgement. She felt her heart give a little judder, however, as she heard a pair of heels approaching from the corridor behind her and saw Alaska’s eyes dart to just behind Willam’s shoulder.

“Well this was a weird point to enter the conversation,” Courtney’s voice suddenly filled the living room, and Willam had to steel herself before she turned round and saw her.

Courtney looked so stunning that Willam momentarily lost her breath. She was wearing black, a colour that she never really wore regularly but which suited her immensely. Her dress was floor-length with a little black lace train at its back, and the bodice was slightly corseted which served to pull her in at the waist. There were little patterned black flowers adding texture here and there, and her shoes could barely be seen under the sheer length of the gown. Her makeup was dark and smoky, a style which Willam was sure Courtney had never worn before but she looked beautiful for it. Her hair cascaded in curls that framed either sides of her face. Willam very suddenly became acutely aware of two things: one, that she now felt like a tramp compared to her two friends and two, that she was now more nervous than she’d ever been in her life.

Courtney seemed to pick up on Willam’s awed stare, as her expression became a little apprehensive. “Fuck. It’s too much, isn’t it? I knew I’d be overdressed, I fucking told Trixie I’d be overdressed, but she made me buy it and ugh, I need to go and change because everyone’s going to be staring at me and-”

“Court,” Willam found herself yelling slightly at her worried friend, if she could even call what she felt for Courtney friendship any more. Courtney stopped talking abruptly, looking at Willam with a little shock in her eyes. Willam tried to summon moisture from somewhere to save her mouth, which now was so dry that it could’ve rivalled Ghandi’s flip flop. “Don’t change. You look really good.”

Willam felt like kicking herself for how feeble the compliment seemed. She’d wanted to say beautiful, or stunning, or incredible, but everything seemed too strong and Courtney would have suspected something. She needn’t have worried, though, as Courtney’s face instantly lit up, pleased that she had the approval of her friend.

“You look amazing, girl,” Alaska chimed in, handing Courtney a glass of prosecco that Willam was unsure when she’d poured. “Come sit, Sharon’s car isn’t meant to pick us up for another half hour at least.”

Obliging, Courtney opted to sit beside Willam on the couch facing Alaska. Willam noticed that Courtney must have been wearing new perfume, one that smelt of vanilla and jasmine and made Willam’s heart hurt at how much she wanted to just blurt out something she shouldn’t.

Draining her glass and reaching for the prosecco bottle, Willam looked up at the wall-mounted clock. Half an hour until they were picked up by Sharon.  She could get through this.

***

Willam was happy. Really quite pleasantly happy in fact, as if there was a warm blanket that had been draped over her after her third glass of prosecco. She should probably stop drinking soon. She’d have to have some champagne when she got to the ball, otherwise it would look odd. But when Courtney had unearthed two more bottles of fizz from her fridge, it became increasingly hard to say no.

She was a lot less nervous as well, although she wasn’t sure how much of that was thanks to the prosecco. Willam wasn’t sure why she’d been nervous about coming round to Courtney’s flat. Courtney was so lovely and relaxed, and definitely generous with the top-ups. Every so often Alaska would make a joke, or do an impression of Bianca or Jinkx, and Courtney would laugh so hard she would flail her arms and her hands would come to rest on Willam’s arm, or her thigh, or her hand. She supposed any other time it would have made her even more nervous, but now she simply reciprocated, mirroring Courtney’s hands and making them look a little like Siamese twins. Every time Courtney shot a smile Willam’s way, she felt her heart melt a little bit more, but the feeling wasn’t like how she felt every day at work. The prosecco gave her a little buzz and made her a little more hopeful that Courtney reciprocated her feelings, and only reinforced the sense that this night had something magical about it. Every so often Willam felt that the energy between her and Courtney was electric, especially when Alaska left the room to pee at one point and left the two girls alone together. They were both so giggly and touchy and flirty, although Willam wasn’t sure how much of that was in her own head, and she’d often been very close to closing the ever-decreasing gap between them and kissing Courtney like she’d wanted to all this time.

It was a good thing, then, that Sharon’s car arrived when it did. Around ten minutes late, Courtney heard the sound of the car horn from her window long before she heard her flat intercom buzzer, and started hurrying Willam and Alaska out, Willam sort of blindly grabbing her clutch bag and her coat and hoping she had everything she needed.

She had Courtney, though, and she supposed she’d be alright with just her.

Rushing out of Courtney’s stairwell and clip-clopping into the taxi, Willam was met by Sharon and Jinkx already inside. She couldn’t really see what either of them were wearing, but from what she could see they both looked good; Jinkx scrubbing up well in an off-shoulder black and white striped dress and Sharon in what seemed to be a black sequin dress which complimented her figure. As she raised her arm up to wave, Willam could see it was long-sleeved. Sitting in the far right hand seat, Willam watched as Alaska’s eyes widened when she saw her girlfriend, Sharon smiling shyly at her as Alaska clambered into the car.

“You look…amazing,” Alaska said, her voice full of awe as she took her seat beside Willam. Sharon looked to the ground momentarily, clearly flattered by her girlfriend’s reaction.

“So do you. Absolutely beautiful,” she replied. Willam could see that the both of them were desperate to hold each other’s hands or do something that any other couple would do upon seeing the person they loved looking their absolute best. It was the sort of thing Willam had been contemplating earlier and now she was seeing it played out in front of her, a sad sort of tragedy to the whole scene. Sharon seemed to snap out of whatever spell she had been under and instead turned to compliment Courtney who was climbing into the back seat. Willam didn’t miss the way Alaska looked to the floor, her eyes a little disappointed. Nudging her, Willam gave her a sympathetic smile. Alaska smiled back gratefully.

“Jinkx! You look incredible!” Courtney exclaimed, each syllable more drawn-out than the last as she reached over and planted both her hands on Jinkx’s knees. Raising one eyebrow, the senior press officer gave Courtney a suspicious look.

“You look drunk,” she replied dryly. With that, the other three girls in the car burst out laughing, the amount of prosecco Willam had drunk making everything seem that little bit funnier. Jinkx didn’t seem impressed. “Ladies, please! Pull yourselves together, what is Baroness Edwards going to think?”

“She’s going to think we’re total legends,” Sharon smiled smugly, Willam only just noticing the slight smell of white wine from her indicating she’d done a bit of pre-drinking of her own. A sudden sense of dread began to form in the pit of Willam’s stomach, making her feel as if perhaps she shouldn’t have drunk all that prosecco after all. On the plus side, Sharon seemed a lot more relaxed and carefree that she’d been earlier at work, so if anything at least she would be a happy drunk.

“Sharon, ask your driver if we can put some Cascada on!” Courtney practically yelled. As Sharon turned to face the driver’s seat, Alaska put a hand out to stop her.

“We’re not turning up to the red carpet with Cascada blaring out the car,” she admonished her, Willam glad that Alaska was another representative for sobriety. As Sharon and Courtney both pouted, Willam found herself wondering how long the car journey had to go. Roughly twenty more minutes of Courtney and Sharon begging for some “sick bangers”, Alaska and Willam almost wetting themselves with laughter, and Jinkx attempting to be the voice of reason was followed by the car coming to a complete stop with the driver getting out of the front seat and opening the side door, exposing the five of them to one long strip of red, the Dorchester’s glamorous entranceway, and a border of bright flashing bulbs. Willam felt her throat close up slightly. The nerves were back in full force as she realised the sheer scale of what they were about to enter into. Sharon got out of the car confidently, followed by Alaska and then Jinkx. Only Willam and Courtney remained in the car. Glancing at Courtney, she looked as nervous as Willam felt.

“Hey,” Willam caught her attention, Courtney’s doe eyes wide in fear. “We’ll be fine. This evening will be fine.”

She couldn’t help that she instantly wanted to reassure and protect Courtney. It seemed to kick in in situations like these, almost instinctive. As Courtney smiled at her, Willam felt her heart almost explode as Courtney suddenly reached for Willam’s hand and took it in her own.

“You know, Will, I never told you how amazing you look tonight,” Courtney said, her words slurring only a little bit. As she gave Willam’s hand one final squeeze, let it go and began to leave the car, Willam felt as if her palms had never been sweatier. In her alcohol-soaked mind, she had no idea whether or not Courtney’s compliment was sincere or just as a result of all the alcohol she’d drank herself. With her heart beating so fast she felt she would faint, Willam clambered out of the car in a daze.

Walking a red carpet was something Willam had never done before and something she never really wanted to do again. It was a weird experience, with too many bright lights and people shouting and fake smiles and awkward poses. Sharon, however, seemed in her element, stopping every so often to have her photo taken and each time making Willam pray she was sober enough to decide against pulling out a peace sign or a dab or something akin to the two. By a miracle, the five managed to make it inside the Dorchester without any PR disasters.

Immediately, the elegance of the entire place was apparent. The marble floor glistened as if it was glass, and identical marble pillars stood at either side of the doorway welcoming them. The wallpaper was cream and completely pristine without a single scuff or scratch on it. Willam scarcely had time to take in the rest of her surroundings as a large doorman prompted them for their invitations. Willam dug inside her clutch bag and handed it over, a little embarrassed by how crumpled it had become. Having established that none of them seemed to be gatecrashers, the doorman gave them a friendly smile and unlocked the small red velvet rope that separated the entrance from the grand ballroom.  

Here, Willam felt even more overwhelmed, and by the reactions of the others she wasn’t alone. The ballroom looked exactly like something from a Disney film; the marble continued from the hallway, leading down an ornate staircase and onto an ornately patterned floor where hundreds of glamorous media presences stood and chatted to one another. The walls were just as lavish, the champagne-coloured wallpaper interrupted every so often by a vase full of white lilies on a marble plinth, or a stone mantelpiece, or a section of wall covered entirely by mirrors. There was another room just jutting off to the left hand side, which Willam could see held a bar and the promised roulette tables. A small orchestra sat on the opposite side of the room, playing something classical that Willam couldn’t even begin to recognise. As she stood and drank in her surroundings, she turned to face the others. Alaska looked very similar to when she first saw Sharon. Jinkx was practically slack-jawed. The fear was very much back in Courtney’s eyes and Sharon was frozen still.

“Maybe there’s a mistake. Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” Sharon muttered, clearly overwhelmed by her surroundings. Alaska immediately protested.

“No! No mistake. You deserve to be here, Sharon, you’ve made a good impression and tonight is about that! Look at you,” she finished quietly, gesturing to Sharon’s dress. “You have every right to be here.”

Taking a deep breath, Sharon seemed to swallow her anxiety and nodded, taking Alaska’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

“So. What now?” Jinkx asked, shuffling a little on the spot. No sooner had she asked that question was Willam immediately alerted to a cry that appeared to come from the middle of the ballroom.

“There she is!” came the unmistakable voice of Baroness Edwards, who seemed to half-elbow her way through the crowd and up the stairs to where Sharon stood. Willam was a little taken aback- Alyssa was a huge presence, her smile so hugely bright and giving the impression that Sharon was an old friend and not just someone she’d never met before in her life. Her gown was equally as loud as she was; bright yellow and patterned with glittering jewels. Her light brown hair was swept up into an elaborate bun, making absolutely nothing about her outfit understated at all. She was intimidating, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“Baroness, it’s such a pleasure,” Sharon replied humbly, Willam glad that her surroundings seemed to sober her up a little. “Thank you so much for inviting us here this evening. Everything looks beautiful!”

Alyssa howled in protestation, smacking Sharon on the arm and causing her to flinch. “Don’t you give me all that Baroness nonsense! It’s Alyssa to you, darling.”

Tuning out of Alyssa’s ramblings, Willam looked over to Courtney and gave her a smug smile, reminded of their earlier conversation. Courtney stuck her tongue out in retaliation, the two both giggling like children.

“I just had to have you here after the big splash you’ve made ever since you came on the scene, Miss Shamu! Oh no, that makes it sound like I’m calling you fat,” Alyssa reeled back in horror, then howled with laughter. “But you know what I mean, Miss Thing! You’ve been causing a commotion, like Madonna. There we are, see, Madonna’s a better comparison.”

Willam was nothing short of amazed that Sharon was managing to follow the conversation without being slightly horrified.

“Well, you and I both know how frantic politics can get, Miss Edwards,” she shrugged, keeping her tone formal. “And sometimes it’s necessary to rock the boat a little.”

“Yes, ma’am! Guys and Dolls style,” Alyssa vehemently agreed, nodding so hard that Willam thought her bun would come apart. “Well, keep up the good work, Miss Needles. The world needs more politicians like you, that’s for certain. Now, you enjoy this evening, won’t you? That’s one thing I want the most from everyone here. That and their money!”

With that, Alyssa gave another yelp of laughter, gripping Sharon’s arm for dear life as she got her breath back.

“It’ll be a lovely night, Miss Edwards, and thank you once again for the invite,” Sharon smiled at her. With an affectionate smile back and a quick hug, Alyssa was gone, now shouting down the corridor as she spied another new arrival. As she watched the Baroness retreating, Sharon turned to the others and gave them all a look of sheer disbelief.

“I feel like I just met the human incarnation of caffeine,” she said blankly, still slightly dazed. Just then, a smartly-dressed waiter with a silver drinks tray approached the group. Sharon gratefully took a tall glass of champagne, Courtney following after. Willam decided to decline.

“You did very well, Sharon. I think you made a very good first impression,” Jinkx praised her, Courtney and Alaska nodding proudly.      

“Just do that with everyone you meet tonight and we might have world domination on our hands,” Willam smiled, admittedly proud of the minister. Sharon had done well. Maybe she didn’t need to be so worried. Suddenly, Willam became aware of a presence behind her.

“Oh, well, let’s not get carried away,” a voice laughed rather affectedly. Whipping around, Willam was faced with Phi Phi O’Hara and the Satanic Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves, Roxxxy and Detox. Their dresses were all equally brash, a mismatched colour chart of hot pink, cream and some pattern made up of lime green and blue. A suited man hung on Detox’s arm, which Willam had an infinite number of questions about. None of them could be answered, however, as Sharon was already giving Phi Phi a faux-pleasant smile.

“Phi Phi, what a tremendous, massive, overwhelming pleasure this is,” she smiled sarcastically, punctuating the end of her sentence with a sip of champagne. Phi Phi simply laughed a little in response.

“I trust you’re enjoying the evening so far? It must be really intimidating, you know, coming and seeing the elite of society all mingling together in one of the most elegant settings available. I’d feel quite out of my depth if I were you,” Phi Phi shrugged, Roxxxy smirking behind her. “The ballroom is quite overwhelming for anyone who hasn’t visited before. I’m not so unfortunate, I mean I actually had my 21st birthday party here. And my 16th.”

“Was this before or after your Dad kicked a homeless man in the face?” Willam found herself saying, shocking herself slightly but only blinded by the anger she felt coursing through her veins. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Willam heard a splutter of laughter from behind her, but she couldn’t tell who it had come from. Phi Phi looked as if she’d been slapped. Detox spoke up from behind her.

“You know there’s a lot of journalists here this evening, Willam. You should watch what you say.”

“Oh, hey Detox. Nice date, where’d you get him? The fuckin’ pound store?” Willam continued, the words tumbling from her mouth like vomit. Someone behind her was now fully cracking up, and from the laugh she recognised it as Alaska. All four guests in front of Willam were now looking suitably shut down, looking as if they wished to be anywhere than in front of their opposition. Phi Phi gave a little sniff of derision.

“Yes. Well. Enjoy your evening. I hope you don’t make any horrific social faux pas, Sharon. Would be a shame to see your face on the front pages tomorrow, especially when I’m announcing my new policy.”

“Turn your policy on its ass and spin on it,” Willam snapped, heartily sick of the sight of the people in front of her. With a raise of her eyebrows, Phi Phi led her small clique away down the stairs. Still full of rage, Willam breathed a huge sigh and turned around to face her friends. Courtney, Alaska and Sharon were beaming at her. Jinkx looked vaguely ill.

“Willam, don’t ever-”

“Oh, Jinkx, shut up! That was fucking amazing. I want that on tape,” Alaska cried excitedly, happy that the opposition had been put in their place.

“Did she say she was announcing tomorrow? Why haven’t I heard about this?” Jinkx questioned, her tone full of concern. Courtney gave her a smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry, Jinkx. She was probably just bluffing, the big sack of wind that she is.”

“She’s a big sack of a lot of things,” Willam practically hissed, still absolutely livid. She calmed a little as Courtney stroked her arm in an attempt to calm her down.

“Shh. You’ve shut her up now, Miss Hero of the Night,” Courtney giggled, her voice having the same effect on Willam’s rage as water on fire. “Should we go find Bianca? I kind of want to see what she looks like in a ballgown. Morbid fascination, you know?”

As Willam nodded and made to move away, she was interrupted by a smart waitress with another drinks tray full of long flutes of champagne. Shrugging, Willam reached out and took one from the shining silver platter, thanking the girl as she left. Taking a sip, the cold, slightly metallic taste soothed her anger a little more.

What harm would another drink do, after all?

[drabbles-n-stuff]

The Angel lifted her head, feeling the cold breeze and soft dew dripping on her.

Teemo lifted his head from a Scout manual he was reading, eyes widening and suddenly looking towards the door. Tristana’s house was much cleaner now they lived together, even if they moved through sheets just as often as they actually fucked. On the bath, Tristana slowly scrubbed away the dried, dead skin from a few a little too rough scratches that Teemo gave her during sex. The Demon popped up on the door frame, waving. “Uh, dear. Hell is calling me. You mind if I take a quick trip back there?”

“Yeah? Sure. That shouldn’t be more than a week, right? Yeah, I can live with that.” She purred, and as Teemo tried to walk away, her wet hand got hold of his fuzzy neck and pulled him back towards her. “Nuh-uh. You’re forgetting something.” a “I thought I was the Demon here.” He purred, but still obliged to her wish. A deep, tongue-filled kiss was given before Teemo waved his final bye. “Goodbye, dear. Don’t wait up.” He cracked a smirk, but as soon as he burst into flames, he was actually just inside Lulu’s forest. He could not go to hell yet, after all, Tristana was still alive. His reason for a quick break was the appearance of someone who knew he was here. An Angel? Really? The Gunner had been fucking incessantly for The Council only knows how many years and he takes a quick nibble on her and they’re already sniffing him out?! At least here, his scent would be masked, even if she was in danger. They probably wouldn’t harm her, though. If they did…

… what would he do if they did? Did he have to leave? He couldn’t bear to look at a Seraph, let alone a Repenter. He hugged his knees, his Scout disguise fading, then his Demonic form, only the swirling chaos that was his broken soul remaining, horns made of darkness weeping blood almost as much as his own golden eyes, staining the dry leaves with his unholy nature as much as the rain soaked the soil beneath.

In Tristana’s case, she was dealing with it pretty damn well. She had bought a coat for this kind of occasion, too. A nice, hefty Pilot jacket to keep the chills away from spending so much damn time near a constant heat source. Puffy sleeves, army green and neck fluff that reminded her so much of Teemo. Ah, that sly little devil. Were they a couple now? She wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t here to answer that question… and he’d probably say no, right? Demons and stuff, probably not to keen on the whole love thing, despite what Lulu said. Shame… he seemed like such a cool guy, too.

The air around suddenly got a lot colder, however, and despite the dark grey skies, it looked like the sun had just come out. And with it, a knock on her door? Did Lulu come to ask for something? There was the impression that everything around her got so much lighter and… no, that was too weird to be true. Probably just a side effect from spending a couple of weeks with a demon, right? Yeah.

As she opened the door, the word “What the…” escaped her lips before she could even think of repeating them.

Clad in silver armor fit for the royal knights of a King, hair bound in an odd braid that resembled a crown, somehow. Intricately weaved and radiating with light. Merely looking at her was enough to send shivers down Tristana’s spine… and those eyes! Piercing so deeply into her own that it felt like getting stabbed, not that the fact they glowed helped. That would have thrown her off, but maybe the time with Teemo had desensitized her to beings with unnaturally glowing irises. The oddest thing was, in fact, the massive Hammer shaft that seemed to expand behind her, the sides of this ungodly large tool actually thicker than her entire body. A soldier or something? What, was she gonna get conscripted into another kind of service?

“…can I–”

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who revels in sin and debauchery!” Poppy said, bowing with the grace of a noble despite the immense weight that must have been put onto her. “I have come to thee with an opportunity one of your kind will not be able to refuse. I am Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer of Souls. And you, Tristana, though your womb has been deeply tainted and even your flesh writhes with the marks of that which we can not–”

“Yeah yeah, I see where this is going. Redeeming?”

“…If you may, Tristana of Bandle City. Please do not cut me off.” The angelic nature seemed to dissipate, and what was left was a Yordle. A very strong, tall, majestic yordle to be sure! But still a Yordle. It actually made Tristana sigh in relief… somehow that just seemed better. “I’m serious here. You are in a lot of trouble. I am willing to help you!”

“Thanks! All the help I want is you to find my demon boy and get him back here once he’s done with his business to pound me senseless again! Can you do that?” The Gunner asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, raising an eyebrow. Poppy looked more confused than anything, eyes wide in pure amazement.

“…Sorry, ye are to tell me, Angel of good faith and will, that you would rather rot in the boiling pits of tar deep inside Hell than accept the good hand of your saviors?”

“As long as I have that Devil with me on the pool? Man, I’d call that a party.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Look, I appreciate the fact you guys think I’m important enough to be saved! But I just don’t really… care, you know? Wait. Maybe I care a little.” The Gunner looked over her shoulder, before leaning in close. The Angel smiled, leaning forward to hear what she had to beg for. Gold? Their sweet ambrosia? Wings? Heaven had it all.

“Can I bring my demon boy with me up there? Like, can y–”

“What KIND OF HERETIC DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?” Poppy recoiled in pure disgust, eyes shining with Angelic fury, but after blinking, it quickly dissipated. “I… am sorry for that outburst. Angels fall. Angels are Broken. And thus, they are no longer Angels… and never again will be. Ye mortals are different, though. Tristana of Bandle cit–”

“Nah, then I think I’m pretty good.” Tristana did a hang loose motion towards Poppy, and closed the door on her face, going to the Kitchen to get some coffee. A few weeks ago, this visit would be enough to have her clinging to Lulu and begging for advice… now? Well, once you see your own soul and that of your boyfriend-to-be-maybe a few dozen times? You get used to weird stuff.

The Redeemer was left completely speechless in the door, however. What… had just happened? Did a Mortal not only have the audacity to speak over her, to close the door on her face but also to deny eternal salvation in exchange for morbid acts of pleasure?! Even the most rugged soldier on the cleanest of battlefields would accept her blessings and pass away in bliss, to accept their place in Heaven! THIS?!

Oh, this would not stand.

But she couldn’t keep annoying her. No, she knew how Humans worked… more or less. Tristana was a soldier, right? Soldiers defiled their sacred bodies on places full of alcohol. Bars, was it? Maybe if Poppy could just convert one or two people there… make the soil so clean no weeds could grow. Yes.

“I will return, fret not, Immortal soul of this confused sinner!” Poppy said, flying away in a mist of light before she could hear a very loud and angry gunner yelling “FUCK OOOOOFF.”

And on the Pub that the Sinner enjoyed spending her time on before meeting her Demon, a Knightess of Silver and Light stepped through the front door… yet sadly, when it was such a miserable day and so early in the morning, not many people other than the poor miserable sods that came to drown their sorrows in beer were present. Amongst them, the only idiot dumb enough to get interested at the creature exhaling power from every inch of her body.

“Do not be afraid, ye sinners broke of mind and soul!” She spoke, and just as the bartender was about to complain about the Knightess raising her voice, a large pouch of gold which wasn’t there a moment ago dropped on his counter. “Please. Ye must offer me those sinful drinks so I may cleanse them. Uh.. ‘beer’. Give me all the beer.”

The Yordle behind the counter gladly filled a couple of glasses full and pushed them to the corner of the counter, keeping her as far away from the drunk patrons as possible, ignoring her as best as he could while she chanted prayers.

Slowly she touched the glasses after every solemn hymn, caressing them in symbols alien to anyone present. The bizarre way she broke in, announcing her arrival, now ‘blessing’ cups? The idiot cleaned his shirt and shorts as best as he could, caressed his mohawk and walked right up to the woman, despite every single piece of his mind screaming at him to keep away from her out of some kind of sheer, primal fear.

“Hey.” Rumble purred, eyeing her up and down, while the Angel simply ignored him. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?”

“…I didn’t fall?” She spoke, turning around to face him now… or well, having to look down since their height disparity was at least two feet in difference, eyes so piercing he’d have guessed she could look through him. “I descended here as gracefully as the leaf of a tree.”

“Well, I gotta say I haven’t met a single flower as beautiful as this catch here.” He smirked, confident as ever despite the fact she could probably kill him with a punch. Maybe that’s what made him so confident.

“Indeed, Heaven’s beauty is unmatched by all sinful growth that spurs from the soil beneath.”

“Baby I can say you ain’t from below because you glow like sunshine.” At that specific comment, Poppy seemed to blush, looking at the walls around her before giving Rumble yet another confused look.

“Am I glowing?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. Well wasn’t she dumb? Seemed like he finally got a woman to match him! “Nah dear, but you’re adorable. What’s your name?”

“I am nothing but Heaven’s beauty. My name is Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer. Do not try to make my soul swell with pride, for I am not one to be blinded by my own self.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t worry about that! I’m pretty sure I can love you enough to make up for that.” He climbed up one of the stools, leaning against the counter. “So do tell… you free tonight?”

“Unless you are to help me with my quest, I do not think we will talk much, Yordle.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I think if you keep blessing glasses of beer, we’re going to run into each other quite a bit. Call me Rumble, by the way… I think you’re gonna be screaming that name sooner rather than later.”

“Rumble. Do tell me, Rumble. Do you know the Sinner that goes by the name of Tristana? A woman truly neck deep in the woeful needs of your bodies.”

“Uh… Tristy? Yeah, she’s pretty dope.” Poppy smiled, leaning in closer. “Why do you want to know…?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I seek to Redeem her, oh Yordle. That man she sleeps with is not one of light like you.” The comment got a chuckle out of Rumble, but she continued. “He is a being far, far worse. You must help me get Tristana back to the light. Will you be able to do that?”

“Yeah, I guess I can think up something.” He rolled his eyes, but the Angel’s eyes went wide with glee.

“You will be rewarded one day, oh Rumble of Bandle City. I will leave these with you, and may this show I am willing to compromise with those that look for the greater good.” Poppy got up and walked through the door, leaving Rumble with quite a few rounds of beer and another magic sack of coins. Not that the little Mechanic was complaining but wasn’t that a weird experience.

While Poppy was left to scheme a plan to bring Tristana back into the fold, Rumble finished as many beers as he could before moving to Ziggs and Heimer’s workshop, left scratching his head as he hoped to get some advice with how to deal with that weird girl. Truth be told, he was pretty fascinated with how beautiful and quirky she was. Covered in armor, giving away beer for free, and a bunch of gold?! She also did claim she was an angel. Fuck, was she one? It did feel weird when he spoke to her. But that was just because she was pretty, right?

Eh, or something like that.

The building that Ziggs had rented for his stay in Bandle was an old garage for planes, repurposed for some sort of massive project he had in mind, almost completely refurbished for a more scientific aesthetic. There were barracks inside for all the helping hands, and Rumble would honestly not be surprised to find a goddamn restaurant and disco in there too. Knowing Ziggs, if he had the budget, he’d probably put in both.

Rumble walked in without even knocking, staring at Ziggs and… yikes, Heim. The Scientist was hunched over a table with schematics on top, while Ziggs walked around the room. They were in a heated argument, something about reflux control? Hextech stuff, probably… not his field.

“…Ah. You didn’t tell me we’d have visitors, Ziggs.” Heimerdinger spoke, using his head to show the other where Rumble was. “Then I think we are done for now. But heed what I told you! It WILL be unpredictable!” The Scientist spoke, storming away past Rumble, leaving most of his tools behind.

“Jackass of little faith…” Ziggs grumbled, lifting up his glasses and smiling. Without the lenses making it look like he had eyes the size of celestial bodies, he really looked less insane! Even if his ideas were downright frightening at times, because of how ambitious they were or how destructive. Sometimes, both.

“Bad day?” The Runt asked, slowly walking forward. “Because I just had the WILDEST thing happen…”

“No, I’m just… fuck, you make TRISTY and that idiot can’t realize we can do something just like it except, and I’m sorry but it’s true, it’d be better.”

“No offense taken, except for the fact I’m not included here.”

“The climate is already pretty damn rough as it is, having another 'Bandle Boy’ here would probably have him tear up that shitty hair of his. But hey, you didn’t come here to hear me shit talk Heim. So, what is it?”

“Yeah, I came to shit talk Heim myself.” Ziggs managed to somewhat dull his laugh, making it sound more like a seal coughing than a chuckle, while Rumble laughed with glee. “Nah, Nah… alright, so. There was this girl who burst into the bar like a damn Queen who owned the place. She is SUUUPER fucking cute. Like, think Trist? Ok, now a little cuter.”

“Wow, you’d throw down with someone if they ever said it. Teemo really broke you in that bad?”

“I still don’t like that guy… but fuck man, Trist’s happy, you know? I… yeah, look, back to the girl at hand. Like, dude. She’s ENORMOUS. And rich? Like man. Man! Oh yeah, she also talked about being an angel because I don’t know, I guess she’s off in the head? I’m pre–”

“Yo. No, you can’t just drop that bombshell and call her mad! Ok, you said she…” Ziggs went silent, counting on his fingers and mumbling silent words, looking up at the ceiling in a thoughtful state.

After a while, he finally shook his head and flailed his arms, as if he was able to literally push his thoughts away. He landed both of his hands on Rumble’s shoulders, clasping tightly. Uncomfortably tightly.“Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Rumble. Do you believe her?”

“…should I?”

“Tell me?”

“Not… really. You do?”

“Ok, what was the first, THE FIRST thing she said as she came in. You said like a Queen. What did she say?”

“Uh.. something like 'fear not’? 'Do not despair’? A little bit of column A, Lil’ bit of column B maybe? Uhhh…”

“Do not be afraid?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Wait how did you–”

Ziggs shook Rumble roughly, staring him straight in the eyes. “DUDE WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER.”

“Chill man! I just… like, hit on her a little. Then she gave me a bunch of beer and a pouch of gold? I also said I’d help her do… uh, something with Trist? She spoke about uh… redeeming, light… she also called Teemo like, 'not of light’. It was wild.”

“WHAT THE FUCK. Ok ok ok, sit the fuck down, we gotta have a talk.”

Ziggs picked a chair and pushed it towards Rumble, sitting on the table after pushing a few bolts and nails away from it. “Ok, so. Don’t fucking open that trap because this is gonna be a bumpy ride and you’ll want to joke and call bullshit and I swear I’ll throw a wrench at you if you even think about it. In fact just for good measure… nah, nah I’m joking. But look.”

Breathing in deeply, trying to find a way to explain it to Rumble without looking like a goddamn fool. Ah, fuck it. He may as well just go all out. “That girl you met is an Angel, Teemo is probably some kind of Demon, Tristana is possibly in danger and you’ve just gotten yourself a one-way ticket to hell. Ok, now I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP. I WILL THROW THIS WRENCH AT YOU. Done? Alright. Sit tight.”

“Look you know when we were building Megakritz and a bar of metal hit me straight in the neck and I didn’t respond for two days before just walking it off? I kind of died. Seriously why didn’t you check my… ah, water under the bridge. Anyway, I couldn’t get into Heaven but I spent some time at the gates talking to some angels. They’re kind of stuck up but they LOVE saying 'Do not be afraid’ to anyone that passes by. It gets annoying after a while. Ok so Heaven didn’t want me, Hell didn’t want me either because my sins were basically like stealing a few candies and mild violence. But I’m not exactly prime Limbo material nor am I that much of a dick to need Purgatory. They just didn’t know what to do… so they just kind of threw me back into life. Dude, my neck was shattered! It was insane looking at it! Also apparently I’m a cat deep down. So if you ever see a brown cat with green eyes do throw me a pack of catnip, and know dead me will appreciate it.”

Rumble leaned back on his chair, running his hand through his mohawk, the other resting lazily on his thigh. “So you died.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m doomed.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fuck me.” He sighed, before laughing. “Yeah, holy shit what the fuck! So great. I spoiled my chance for eternal salvation because I wanted to be with a cute girl. Yeah, that’s fine. What the fuck. What the fuuuuuck…” He slumped on his chair, resting both of his hands over his face, before jumping out of it with a speed that honestly frightened Ziggs.

“TRIST. TRISTANA. Look the, the angel girl, she spoke about Trist and Teemo. You said something about danger, right? Ok, so, uh, is there anything I can do to help her? I don’t… Trist is happy. She deserves to be happy, so please, can’t you just, I don’t know, blow her up back to heaven?”

“Y'ain’t going back to heaven after getting blown by a guy if you get my drill.” Ziggs giggled, waving a hand with no fucks to give. “Look, she’s a Redeemer. I met two of these back in my dead days. Dude, time worked weird there. They never harmed anyone? They’re just stubborn as shit and really mouthy. If you want to help Trist just… I don’t know, make her go away.”

“I can do that. I’m pretty good at making women run…” Rumble sighs, putting up a half-hearted smile.

“Don’t put yourself down, dude. Go out there. I dunno, ask Trist about it all? I’d say go look for Lulu but fuck is she kind of weird and I don’t like Veigar. But hey, you want to try your luck…”

“I’m going with Trist. Thanks.” As he got up and was ready to leave, he noticed what was a soft rain before became a full-blown storm, scratching his head at the open garage door, finally realizing that’s where the cool breeze was coming from! He… wouldn’t make it to the junkyard in these conditions.

“Uh… you got a spare room?” Rumble turned around, as Ziggs got out of the table and nodded towards some small shacks, probably used to keep supplies back in the more military focused days of this garage, now repurposed as living spaces.

It was… rather cramped inside them, but there were warm blankets and a pretty damn comfy bed. More than what Rumble could lay claim to. After a quick before bedtime conversation with his friend, Rumble laid down, sighing as he stared at the dull iron ceiling.

“I really fucked this one up.”

And quietly he slept, as sounds of raindrops hitting the ceiling of the large building echoed even inside the shack, leading to a rather pleasant setting to sleep in.

Morning came.

The rain had stopped some hours ago, and Ziggs’ noises were the thing that woke up the overworked mechanic. Slumping out of bed shaking from the cold air, feeling even colder due to just having left the warm, comfy blankets. Seems like his old friend was getting ready for a new day, and judging by the teapot he had, ready for Heim to visit again.

“Ziggs?” Rumble spoke softly, walking closer, even his fuzzy body unable to keep the cold away. “Uh… thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry. You need a…?” Ziggs pointed at his own uniform, smiling. It had sleeves. Man, Rumble fucking wishes he had sleeves!

“Nah… Nah, I’m good, I’ll, I can handle this. I’m going to see Trist. Good luck with that project, dude!” Ziggs left Rumble with a hug, letting the mechanic go in his own personal quest.

Despite the skies slowly getting bluer as he walked, the cold wave didn’t stop, and every accidental step into a puddle sent him in a fit of cursing. By the time he got into Tristana’s house, be it from being a nervous wreck or due to simply being clumsy, he was soaked from the ankles below.

Knocking on the door, a loud groan could be heard from the inside, Tristana very begrudgingly opened the door, already looking pissed…

… before realizing it was Rumble!

“BUMBLE!” Tristana hugged him, a tight embrace that sent shivers down his spine and made his cheeks flare up, thankfully the fur did a mostly good job at covering it up.

“Uh.. h-hey, Trist. Yeah, can we… go in?”

“Yeah? Take a seat. Oh, dude, I just had the worst frickin’ d… uh… no, y'know what, I shouldn’t bother you with those things.”

“You met an angel,” Rumble spoke softly, going towards her couch and sitting down, hunched over himself with his arms resting on his lap. “I… met her.”

“Ah, fuck.” Trist sighed, walking over to him and sitting beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. “What did she say? Did she.. uh… just, what did she say?”

“That Teemo is a dick and I’m to help her purge you. B-but like! I… I don’t know, I think I might have an idea? Maybe? I’m…. am I a good guy?”

“Bumble. You are the sweetest and softest guy I know.”

“Trist… really. Don’t, not as a friend. Just tell me. Pure and raw. Even if it hurts.”

“Oh.” She left out a chuckle, quickly catching herself in the act and going silent. Not a good time to think about dirty jokes. “Well… you… are kind of obsessive. I don’t need to remind you about TRISTY… even if it’s really sweet you named a robot after me! But uh. You also drink way too much for your own good… you cheat way too much too. Both ways. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“So am I going to heaven or hell?”

Tristana smiled a terribly fake smile, hoping he wouldn’t have asked that. “… painfully honest again?”

“You don’t need to tell me. Ok so, what is the Angel here for? Redeeming someone, right? Maybe if I just give my own soul, because I guess I have one now, to her… maybe she’ll leave you and your boy alone?”

“Nonononono! Rumble what the fuck! What the fuck! What if that pisses her off? Or what if I lose you, and then she comes back for me? I, look, I know a girl, she–”

“Trist. Please. Ok then how about this… I’ll… I’ll try distracting her until you come up with a better plan. That’s what I’m gonna do, ok?”

“Rumble.”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“You haven’t known what you were doing since you were like five, you’re gonna die and I’m gonna lose a great friend… just… can’t you follow me? Real quick?”

“Trist. Just this time?”

“… if you actually make me have to go to heaven drag your ass back here you better believe I will and I won’t stop talking about it.”

“Fine, fine. It’s going to be fine. Got it?”

“Got it. So… you… want something?”

“I’ll just… I dunno, I guess we wait for the Angel? Yeah…” Rumble nodded to reaffirm his own statement, Tristana softly tapping his back for comfort before getting up and back to cleaning her home.

When the dreaded knocking finally came, Rumble was the first to get up, while Trist just placed her broom away, sitting on the couch and expectantly watching their conversation.

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE OF LITTLE FAITH! I ha– wait, you are Rumble.”

“Indeed I am! And I have an offer you can’t deny me.” He smiled a coy smile, confident as ever.

“I am not one to barg–”

“My soul for the Heavens.”

“I am listening.”

“Look, if you just… leave the girl alone, alright? Take me. Try to repent me or something. Then maybe, much later you can come back to her. How about that? Deal?”

“Well! I see you are a good friend and eager to repent. I do think the process will be quick for thee, e'en if your friend still suffers the influence of devils.”

“Good! Alright! Well, I am eager to go to heaven then.”

Poppy grabbed both of his hands and slowly ran her thumbs over his palms, making the sign of seven circles on them before crossing it with a line. Two circles of his right had flared up, while on his left, all seven flared up in a bloodlike color.

“Oh.”

Wide-eyed she stared down at his palms, while Rumble looked mostly confused and somewhat frightened.

“Well it seems you are quite the sinner. Your soul might appease the Council once it is done repenting… but it will not protect her forever. I will come back.”

“Great! Well then you need to repent me. Let’s hope it’s quick.”

“Do not lie to my face.”

“… oh, you can actually… oh shit.”

“No swearing! I- ugh. Lead me to the house which you reside in, Rumble of Bandle City.” She went back to being as stoic as one could be, hands perfectly placed on her thighs, back straight as a soldier waiting for orders.

And of course, Rumble just kind of shuffled around the giant Yordle, walking to his house and still letting out enraged curses with every puddle he accidentally stepped on, even with Poppy reprimanding him with every word.

Their treck was long, and through the dirt roads just in front of Veilu’s forests, where the sound of crying echoed through the leaves softly hit them, so soft one would be forgiven for thinking they were going slightly mad. Neither of them had time to deal with the ghostly whimpers, and so their journey wasn’t interrupted… although, after a while, Poppy just decided to give the Mechanic her own battle boots, levitating to stop the puddles of cold mud from splashing her feet, and worse, her Armor! Now that would be a disaster.

He just kind of stomped forward however, boots making clear tracks in the mud with how hard he stepped, making his way up a hill wich finally started to show signs of leading somewhere. Even if those signs were literal piles of metallic trash along the road.

“Alright alright alright…” He rubbed his hands together, gracefully opening his arms and letting Poppy take in the absolute horror that was the junkyard. Heaps of twisted and broken scrap molded together in abominable creations, TRISTY being the rotting cherry on top of the cake of steamy garbage, and despite the Council not employing machinations such as these, it was easy to recognize the mace attached to her, and… tubes? Ballistae mounted on this armor? What a horrifying prospect!

“Rumble. You can not be really living in this situation. This is… unacceptable.”

“Nah, it’s pretty acceptable, actually. I got a nice bed… I got food… sometimes… it’s dope. C'mon. Get in.” He took the lead, kicking open the already rusty and bent gates, strolling through the rusty mood with no cares to give to the world. Letting the beautifully crafted golden details of the ivory and marble boots, made durable and comfy by holy magic, get covered in the filth on the ground.

Floating right behind, now even further away from the ground to the point her wings had almost become material due to the strain of this mortal form, a cloud of golden and cyan following her just behind, shaping up to something barely resembling wings. “This is a travesty. You need a better place to live in! Look at these beasts of rust you made with your very hands, there is much of light you can do instead, yet you pick to make these wretched forms?!”

“Yeah? It’s fun. Besides, there’s already way too many people doing good stuff… I don’t… I don’t, I, It’s not my job to be good. And no one’s gonna pay me as much as I want to be paid. Might as well do what I want, right? It isn’t like I’m actively hurting anyone!”

“Lack of action is a sin.” She huffed, flying over to his Mech, standing over it like a lit beacon. A sun, illuminating this sinful totem of envy and lust. “This whole place… sinful.”

“It sure as hell is. I like it this way though. I mean.. no one comes bother me. I don’t hurt anyone. It’s fine. It’s a good place.”

“It harms yourself.”

“So?”

“So… stop?”

“It’s fun. What am I to do instead?” He crossed his arms, leaning against a rusty, still wet barrel, hearing a rat squirm inside and run away.

“…Filth.” She hissed, even higher now, a good few feet in the air from him. “You live in a den of filth, surrounded by all that is sinful and harmful, you who have become so lazy as to accept this as common! You who works not for the good of others, but for personal gain! YOU! YOU WHO HAVE LOST ALL SENSE OF SELF! You… are now mine to Redeem.”

“Cool.” He nodded, unsure whether to be absolutely horrified or cry and accept it. Instead he simply… stood there, nodding. His mind unsure how to process the pure beauty and raw power in front of him. On top of him. Her greatness was… surrounding him.

“Then we will begin. Inside we go… we shall leave the Incandescent Sun to dry this land of disease. We will clean it later. Now for your organization.” The Angel spoke, allowing Rumble to guide her into the run-down warehouse, now repurposed to be a workshop.

The roof, large as it was, almost completely riddled with holes. The walls barely holding up together, clearly fixed up over and over again to keep the place from falling down. In a distant corner, almost covered up by piles of trash, was what seemed like a bunch of cloth was actually revealed to be his personal abode, surrounded by heaps of garbage. There was almost a method to his confusing totems of filth, horrible skull-like symbols built on the sides of barely recognizable cubes and triangles.

Walking through those piles, Poppy groaned out loud in pure disgust, while Rumble simply kicked away some spent bottles, a surprising ammount for a single Yordle. “And welcome home, my friend.” He spoke proudly, showing off his cushion laying on the cold concrete ground, a pillow and a surprisingly clean and comfy looking blanket. Ignoring the bottles and bottles of beer coupled with the bizarre mangled scrap, it was… no, it still looked like a hobo had set up shop there.

“This is nothing but filth.”

“Ok I can admit I should throw out the glass stuff bu–”

“No, this all. This is a monument of corruption, the very existance of such place exists only to seep its dark roots deep in the dank soil and poison all around, the water below, the roots, the trees, the leaves. This place is a piece of the Dark Place in this very Earth, and you help mantain it. I can’t believe it…”

“I… what the fuck?” He as stumped. Really? He picked up one of the metalic rectangles, about the size of his torso, wich Poppy simply stared at unimpressed.

Then, he pressed a button on one of its sides.

Te rectangle opened up, a loud scraping sound as the rusty metal struggled to lift a plataform holding various precious little trinkets, assorted odds and baubles with no real value or interest, and generally just really tiny, pretty things. Under it soon was revealed another plataform, though this one was empty, probably due to the lack of space… or trinkets.

“I repurpose things.”

“I… see?” She finally stopped floating, the angelic energy from her wings floating to her feet, wich turned into sandals fit to grace a true Queen, dust and rust being swept away as if wind was coming from them. “You have made a complicated chest.”

“Well… I was thinking of making it more than just 'a chest’. A chest you can just punch through, or force open. This if made with… less.. trash, and maybe some other kind of lock tather thn 'button’, could be a way safer chest. And because of this..” He poked the cogs that lifted up one of the plataforms, wich almost was poked off due to the stress applied to it. “.. I can make it multiple tiers! I can make it fit way more than a normal chest. And be safer. And guess what? It’s not just because it’s trash that it is bad! In fact, it’s good because of it! It means I haven’t spent other materials to make something that could possibly be a huge waste.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you have made a chest. Congratulations! You still have a junkyard surrounding you! Rust still seeps in the ground, junk still is the place where plague and disease take their roots in!” She hissed, ever unwilling to take a break from chastitizing everyone around her.

“You want me to take Rust away from metal. That’s.. impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.”

“To you, sure, but I can’t fly and I sure as fuck–”

“Ok look I’m going to swat you with arclight every time you say a swear word. Ok?”

“Why? I’m just swearing, I’m not commiting a fuc–” His sentence was cut shot by the sensation of steam burning his cheek, making him recoil and clutch it… before realizing nothing really happened to him.

“Rude. Not even one of the worst burns I got recently, either.” He grumbled, straightening his back and trying to ook a little more imposing. He was still just barely under two feet and a half, while the Angel stood at four feet, even stepping on the ground. Clearly, she didn’t have much of an idea of what a Yordle was before touching down, did she?

And as they bickered and whimpered and Rumble got hit again at least a few times, in the forest, Teemo stirred. His crimson form now a dull grey, horns barely dripping blood. It looked like he was about to collapse.

But instead, he got up, feeling what little of his strenght he had coming up to form his Incubi form. He was not one of Light, not anymore. But whoever this Angel was… they were far away from Tristana. And thankfully, she was stil alive. He could feel her pulse, the mark left on her neck a faint sort of bond between the two.

A quick flight later, and Tristana was being smothered in kisses and nips from her lover, giggling incessantly. “Teemo! Already? Didn’t you… oh, dude. I got to tell you.”

“I already know.”

“Wait, really? Uh, then you’ll be happy to–”

“She left you alone?”

“…I’d like to finish a sentence but yeah, she did. How do you… were you spying me from hell? Wait, were you this woried that you came back? Awwn, that’s adorable! Kind of creepy, I don’t want you staring over me all the time, but still cute!”

“I… long… long story.”

“We have all day.”

“You have. I’ll… I’ll hang around. I might disapear again. Ok?”

“Sure. But uh… are you ok?”

“Huh? I’m always good with you, dear.”

“No, I mean…” Trist got a hold of his neck fur, and pulled. His fur felt like straw rather than the soft sea of delight that she had touched a day, maybe two ago… and to both of their surprises, a rather fat chunk of fur came out. “… I don’t, I don’t think this is OK.”

“I’ll handle it later.” He kissed her, but now that the excitement of kissing him again passed, and the worry of his fur too… she wasn’t sweating. Teemo was in the same room as her, and yet she wasn’t dripping water as if she had just come out of a steamy bath on a hot summer day. If anything, she was feeling kind of chilly.

“Yeah. Just don’t… get back safe?” She asked, with a smile.

“I promise I will.”

Teemo kissed her again, not her lips this time, a soft kiss on her forehead, so she would be sure he was saying the truth. And off the door he went, towards the Angel, feeling his own self getting colder with every passing moment. He didn’t enjoy it. At all. Being near his… bretheren. The ones that didn’t fall. And a Redeemer no less…

He stopped just on the hill that led to the Junkyard, overhearing the heated argument of the Angel and the… ah, what was his name? Tristana’s friends. Bumbly idiot, or something. Bruno? Bumo? Eh, not important.

What was important, was the Angel that left the building, holding her Hammer in a stance of pilgrimage. Oh, she was pissed then. And he knew her.

Oh, he knew her.

Rumble followed her just outside, giving up on the chase before it even started, actually. Teemo hid amongst the leaves of the Summoners’ forest, smiling his devilish grin.

He followed her, watching her groan, pray, kick, pray and yell. A good half an hour just watching her judge her choices, ocasionally glancing deeper in the forest. Once she finally sat down on her knees, as if meditating.

“Hey Pigtails.”

“Te… Fallen.”

She had felt him, leaving the safety of the forest and landing right behind her.

“Do not attempt to touch me, Fallen One.”

“The Council doesn’t keep an eye here. We’re literally right beside their woods. Then again… if they did all keep their eyes around the forest, it would explain why they can never get anything done.”

“…Still.” She said, sternly, before adding to it soon after, a lot more softly. “Please no.”

“Then we’ll simply talk.” He sat down aswell, smiling. “Someone got your panties in a twist?”

“I don’t… get it?”

“Who made you mad.”

“You, especially. Look at what you did… what you’re doing! To this city. Oh, absolute vileness. It is… disgusting…” She held her hands together in prayer, tears dropping ever so slowly.

“I didn’t come here myself, you know.” He purred.

“Yet you still came.”

“I did. And so did you. Do you really dislike this place that much? I like the people here. They’re not… they’re not that different from the man that made you you.”

“And not too different from the hellish beasts that crawl in your new Home.”

“Nah. You remember Eve? Now that’s a fall from grace. Eveyone else is kind of alright, though. Save for a few… ugh. Look, I know, I’m not going to turn you into a Warlady or a mere Imp. I was an angel too. I know you… don’t understand these things.”

“I understand all I need to.”

“Uh-huh. Just consider… maybe it isn’t worth it. This fight.”

“Yet I was born to fight.”

“No you…” He sighed. Of course, she was an Angel. Was he realy that stupid, once? Yeah. It sounds likely. Seeing as he was doing the same mistake that made him fall… again.

“Yeah. Yeah you were. Now… just keep in mind that not all wars need to be fought.”

“Yet it is my duty.”

“It sure is.”

“…leave her be, Devil.”

“You know I can’t do that either. And it isn’t because I’m trying to have an easy soul job.”

“Yet you can’t keep your sin away from her. Twisting her.”

“I only do what she asks me to do. Trust me.”

“Disgusting. This whole town. I… leave. Now.” She hissed, the Hammer on her back starting to crackle, light flaring up from the opened slits.

“Very well.” He nods, floating away to Tristana’s house, gleeful as ever.

He was warm.

Fiend.

Looking at the forest, light still blasting from the Hammer, she got up. Light, shiny light. And Darknees… Darkness. In the forest. Where the two of them lived. Not Teemo and Tristana. Those ghoulish spellcasters.

Every step she took made the leaves shake, and the forest was dead quiet. It was hard to feel anything inside that forest except dread, and the certainty of being watched. Every step ever so slow, guiding her towards the heart of the woods, the abandoned manor that housed the Mages. Quiet.

An open door.

She stood in front of, it, and knocked. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who sins and trades with that wich is unholy!” Her voice boomed through the house, and there was… silence.

“…please come out.” She grumbled, knocking on the door. Nothing. Stepping in…

… oh, there they were.

“Rude.” Poppy’s voice was soft, but her composure stern.

“Well you’re in our domain now so no destroying us or our home.” Lulu giggled, sitting on her armchair, While Veigar stood vigil. Leaning forward, tapping her knees with glee and excitement, Lulu smirked. “Came to say hi? Or check if we’re keeping our end of the bargain?”

“I… I do not know what Bargain you speak of, but… I have come to do one myself.”

Veigar’s shadowy veil dropped, while Lulu gasped out of sheer delight. “OH, GOODIE!” Hopping out of her chair, she opened her arms, expecting a hug that didn’t come.

“You have a blight of sinners in this town.”

“Yeah, every town does. Weird, innit?” Lulu waggled her eyebrows, teasing Poppy, knowing she wouldn’t change her mind from this jab.

“And we are cleansing it. But… but these… fiends. That live on Bandle City. You… yordles. You have summoned devils to lay your women, and praise knowledge and metal more than the very Lords and Ladies above. I seek to cleanse… two people.”

“That’s going to be a hefty price, you know? Most Yordles are our friends.” Lulu grumbled, lowering her arms and crossing them, standing on the tip of her toes. Not to try and match Poppy’s height, that was nearly impossible… just to feel a little taller. It made her happy. Something told her she’d need to be happy. “Who are they?”

“Tristana and Rumble of Bandle City.”

This time, even Veigar couldn’t help himself. A croak, raspy and unidentifiable, followed by Lulu’s cheerful and excited laugh. No, she wasn’t happy. She was mocking. Mocking this being of light.

“Why do you want to cleanse them, exactly? Because I don’t know if you know, we helped her summon her boyfiend. Hehehee.. boifiend.” Lulu giggled, looking away.

“Before she loses the process..” Veigar interjected, stepping forward. “… I think she’s trying to say that no matter what price you offer, those are our friends. One of them, at least. Truth be told… Tristana enjoys the Mechanist’s antics. And that is good enough for me to not want to charge for cleansing him. Or doing it, at all. We will stop you of redeeming our dear friend, as for the boy… well, if he will accept it, who are we to say no? Take his soul and be happy you got anything at all.”

“What he said!” Lulu skipped over to him, puffing her cheeks and frowning to show how mad she was. “No touching boifiend and Trist!”

“Very… well.” By the sword of the Justicar… if she could just smash their precious items to dust! But this was not a kind, nor necessary act. Poppy bowed, out of respect for the ways of Heaven than anything else, and got nods from both of them. More than she expected from their kind.

Meanwhile, Rumble tried stuffing all of his bottles in a dumpster. There were… a lot. That was a lot of glass. A lot of things could be done with glass. A lot of money could be earned. And truth be told, he could use new windows in most places.

His task seemed neverending, and as he realized one dumpster would not be enough, he also realized TRISTY’s smasher was going to make more of a mess than salvage it. He needed a big metal slab, to heat up his furnace,  get the casts ready… fucking hell. But the money.

But he could do it later.

Keeping the sacks of collected bottles that didn’t fit on the dumpster just below it, Rumble sat on a throne of rusty metal, made relatively safe to sit in by the addition of an airplane seat and matresses repurposed as steps and armrests. Oh, he felt like a King alright.

Aaand here came the cutie he wished he never met.

Flying over the orange ground, where barely any grass manged to sprout from the rust, Poppy stood face to face with Rumble. Oh, she would not kneel to this self-righteous worm. “What makes you think you deserve a throne?”“

“The fact I built it myself? That’s pretty impressive.”

“Anyone can do that.”

“And no one does. Beside, no one’s really complaining besides you… and you’re not from the Kingdom. Nah I’m just fucking with yo–” Another smack of her Arclight on his cheek, making him growl. “F… hecking stop! I’m not a King, I’m just messing with you. I just like a comfy place where I can feel tall. It just so happens Thrones are great for that! Yikes, don’t you know how to have any fun..?”

“My fun is cleansing sinners. And you… you are every bit of darkness. So I shall cleanse you over and over again, each of the seven ones ill be stripped away. Let us start by sloth. Up! Thy work is not done.”

“You want me to be less lazy? Alright. How about this. I will get my ass out of h– THAT WASN’T A –” Another smack.

“N-not.. a… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You neeed to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“N-not.. as… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do.”

“Clean thy ground. Make it good.” She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Rust included?”

“Clean. This. Mess.” She hissed, squinting at him.

“I… look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can’t see… do you really think it’ll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It’s impossible. It’s too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can’t clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You’re strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?” He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

“You won’t sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash… and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!”

“Yeah, we kinda suck at times… makes for fun toys though.” He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus… drenched. Fuck!

“Poppy?” He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

“Yes, Sinner?”

“I.. do you mind… do you mind giving me some help? A-again?”

“Ye ask a lot from an Angel.” She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. “What is it?”

“I kind of need you to.. uh… lift me up. I know, it’s, kind of dumb.. but… m-my robot, she’s..”

“It.”

“She.”

“It.”

“Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up…”

“Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it’s a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright.”

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. “You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?”

“… maybe.”

“Council guide this one…” She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. “Tell me their name so I may weep for their being.”

“You… sure you wa–”

“Tell me.”

“… T-t… Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It’s cute. I just.. I just find it cute.”

“Ah.” The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the hate from a single follow up word dripped almost to the point of being visible. How..?“Her.”

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. “Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!” He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

“That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her.” Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble’s taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do any real damage… just be really, really painful. “Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away… maybe you two may be together. Maybe.”

“I d… f… I don’t… fu… ugh.” Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he’d simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were… to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. “You are harmed.”

“No shit.”

A very soft flick on his forehead. “No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and… st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now… sleep.”

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach’ was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was… endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin’ God!

“Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again.” She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

“You started taking pity on me? Cuuute.”

“I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal.”

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened, she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms, and failing.

“Pooooooppy.”

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a fly and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. “Have you healed?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then sleep. Heal.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you… you know what a bandage is, right?”

“No.”

“Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It’ll help me stop… hurt. I’ll just… uh… can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do.”

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of… questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

“Here, here aaand here.” Poppy placed down a comic book, Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic’s magazine. Well… it wasn’t exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

“Ok, just… ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name…”

“Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further.” With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

“Poppy.” He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

“Poppy…”

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure… but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain… again.”

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

“TRIST! If you came to visit I’m busy with Vei right now! We’ll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!”

“Oh.” Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. “This is… not a huge favor. I simply want… bandages? Bondages? I’m not sure. Something that restricts..”

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn’t invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn’t know and didn’t care. “I guess I’ll take… both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving.”

Even Pix couldn’t help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. “May it serve you as well as these serve me.”

"N-not.. as… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do.”

“Clean thy ground. Make it good.” She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Rust included?”

“Clean. This. Mess.” She hissed, squinting at him.

“I… look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can’t see… do you really think it’ll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It’s impossible. It’s too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can’t clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You’re strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?” He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

“You won’t sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash… and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!”

“Yeah, we kinda suck at times… makes for fun toys though.” He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus… drenched. Fuck!

“Poppy?” He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

“Yes, Sinner?”

“I.. do you mind… do you mind giving me some help? A-again?”

“Ye ask a lot from an Angel.” She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. “What is it?”

“I kind of need you to.. uh… lift me up. I know, it’s, kind of dumb.. but… m-my robot, she’s..”

“It.”

“She.”

“It.”

“Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up…”

“Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it’s a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright.”

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. “You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?”

“… maybe.”

“Council guide this one…” She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. “Tell me their name so I may weep for their being.”

“You… sure you wa–”

“Tell me.”

“… T-t… Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It’s cute. I just.. I just find it cute.”

“Ah.” The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the bending of metal was audible. “Her.”

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. “Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!” He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

“That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her.” Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble’s taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do any real damage… just be really, really painful. “Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away… maybe you two may be together. Maybe.”

“I d… f… I don’t… fu… ugh.” Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he’d simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were… to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. “You are harmed.”

“No shit.”

A very soft flick on his forehead. “No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and… st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now… sleep.”

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach’ was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was… endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin’ God!

“Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again.” She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

“You started taking pity on me? Cuuute.”

“I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal.”

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects all piled up in order of height. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms for it, and failing.

“Pooooooppy.”

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a feather and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. “Have you healed?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then sleep. Heal.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you… you know what a bandage is, right?”

“No.”

“Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It’ll help me stop… hurt. I’ll just… uh… can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do.”

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of… questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

“Here, here aaand here.” Poppy placed down a comic book, the Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic’s magazine. Well… it wasn’t exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

“Ok, just… ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name…”

“Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further.” With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

“Poppy.” He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

“Poppy…”

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure… but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain… again.”

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

“TRIST! If you came to visit I’m busy with Vei right now! We’ll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!”

“Oh.” Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. “This is… not a huge favor. I simply want… bandages? Bondages? I’m not sure. Something that restricts..”

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn’t invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn’t know and didn’t care. “I guess I’ll take… both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving.”

Even Pix couldn’t help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. “May it serve you as well as these serve me.”

Another row of squeaks from Pix as Poppy left, simply ignoring the mocking. The black bandages were a bit wet, and smelled rather funky… but the white ropes were clean. They smelled of alcohol. Huh.

A quick flight back, and soon enough Rumble was shirtless in front of her. He had gotten on reading quite a bit about Bandle, although that only left him with more questions than answers. Poppy didn’t care about that, though. What she did care, was how she could finally see just how thin he was.

“Even your fur can not hide this. When did you last eat?”

“… define eating?”

“Chewing things with your mouth and swallowing it.”

“Well in that case… uh… two days? I’m still w–”

“Silence.” Poppy gently forced him to sit upright, wrapping the bandages around his chest. “I can’t allow you to suffer while under my watchful vigil. Unless you wish to partake in fasting?”

“Look, the only reason I don’t eat is that it costs money, and I already got little of it as it is.”

“Yet you have enough bottles of drink to fill bags.”

“… well, priorities ar–”

“Hush, Sinner! T'is clear thee has fallen to the devilish tradition of vices and delusions! Then the damage is not only of body, but of mind as well. Very well. I so woefully regret feeding it now, but from this point, the gold that touches your hand will feed you, the alcohol that touches your lips will be tasteless and harmless, the needs of the flesh will be dimmed. And so it is spoken.” She nodded as if all that was a spell, and smiled. “Very well. Are you hungry?”

“I could go for a snack but I also could go for not moving.” One of the circles on his hand started to fume, but before the pain could hit, the Angel pointed at the hand. “Hush!”

The fuming stopped.

“…you can just… make it stop?”

“Of course. I placed it.”

“So you just… let me break my ribs instead of… like… helping me?!”

“Yes. It taught you an important lesson. Do not disobey Heaven’s will.”

Burying his hands on his face, he sighed. “Alright. Sure, whatever. You want me to eat, right? Can’t you carry me or something?”

“Gladly. I will not let you die while your soul still lives stained and crooked.” Picking the Mechanic up like a dead body, carefully letting him rest on her arms as they flew, not nearly as fast as before. After all, even a nudge could make Rumble whimper in pain.

Once the city was finally in view, the wings dematerialized, and they both were finally able to land. Placing Rumble down very carefully and giving him an arm to hold for support as they walked towards the bar. In hushed whispers, she kept asking him about if it hurt, how much, and how to help him… most questions were answered with a pained shrug, followed by a groan of pain as he realized what awful idea that was.

As they got inside the bar, surprisingly warm for the season, Poppy made sure to sit him down as soon as possible. While Rumble fanned himself, Poppy sat and waited for the waitress to pass, by, tapping her fingers on the table expectantly.

She saw him.

She knew he saw her.

He had spotted her a long time ago, as soon as she moved towards Bandle, actually. Tristana, still quite deaf to these higher beings despite spending so much time with Teemo, tugged on his fur. “C'mon. Let’s go home It’s b.. been? Hon?”

To her, and Poppy’s surprise, Teemo walked up to the Angel’s table. Confused, Tristana followed along, sitting down near Poppy to make sure Teemo could not touch her.

The whole bar had stopped talking again as if the hostility between the two Holy beings was choking them up. Slowly, table by table, they left, unable to explain why they felt so frightened. Teemo smiled, careful not to show his teeth, the other three in the table simply waited for him to speak whatever he had in mind. Rumble being ever so careful to not touch him, not wanting to get cooked.

Coins clinked for the last time, and finally everyone except the four and the bartender had left. Even the waiters took the opportunity to hide in the back. The anticipation killing everyone as if a bomb was about to explode, and none of them knew exactly when. Just that soon it’d happen.

His tongue clicked.

“So.”

“So.” Poppy followed, crossing her arms and leaning back.

“You know.” He rested his arms on the table, back arched as if he was going to pounce at her, any second now…

“I do not, Demon.”

“You seem to have taken a liking to that boy.” He nodded over to Rumble, who was now having to swipe away the fur falling on his eyes, dripping with sweat. “Gave up on her?” He smiled fully now, needle-like teeth showing.

“I will take her from you and leave you to dust, Worm. He is simply yet another soul I may save.”

“Y'know that’s how I started.” He glanced at Trist, his eyes barely open, just enough to let their yellow light and cat-like slits show. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t use that term on Heaven. I mean, that’s how I f–”

“I know what it means, Fallen one.” She hissed, the pure and radiant light clashing with the fiery gaze, lights dancing with each other while Rumble and Trist tried not to pay too much attention to what was going on.

“He’s still wearing your boots.”

Her cheeks swelled with arclight, eyes dimming down as her heavenly blush took hold. Soon enough, Rumble was left with his feet free. “Hey, I kind of du–”

“Shut up, Sinner.” Poppy was even more agressive this time, not even bothering to turn to face him. “I have come to feed this wretch what his vices had been taking from him. What are you to do here? Sin? Laugh on my face? Try and pull him even deeper down the chain of vices that control him?”

“Second option, mixed in with a bit of the first… I mean, have you had the beef these guys serve here? Oh, it’s absolutely delightful. You just can’t have one piece. Or three. As for the sinning..”

Sweating out of sheer stress, Tristana finally spoke up. “Dear I don’t think–”

“We sin alright.”

“Then go. Enjoy your time. You lost her once. You’ll lose her again.”

“Or you will fall. Dear? You heard the angel.” He purred, blowing a kiss to Poppy that dripped with sarcasm as he got up and left, Tristana following soon after.

They could be heard screaming in the distance at each other, along with a burst of spine-chilling laughter from the Devil.

“D-do... you.. should I ask..?”

“Silence.”

"Y-yeah. Yeah, sorry..."

Though it was a lot colder now, and the only people there were the waiters cleaning up the hurried mess left behind, Rumble had to resort to wiping the sweat of his fur with the table's cloth. Being ever so gently as to not make the pain inside his chest flourish again.

They ordered a meal, rice, and beef for and though Rumble started shoving it straight away down his gullet, barely chewing as he just tried to fill his stomach, while Poppy prayed. Halfway through tearing his beef apart with his fingers, barely touching the fork and knife, he realized Poppy was just praying on top of her plate. Salad. Literally just lettuce, lettuce and more lettuce with some tomato slices on top.

"Uh.. Poppy?"

Her eyes opened, flaming with Arclight, clearly annoyed.

Rumble, however, was nothing if not persistant. And annoying.

"You... sure you're just going to eat that?"

"It is enough to sustain this mortal form. And to make it less obvious. So yes, I will 'just' eat this."

"I mean, that tastes like crap. You're eating leaves and some fruit. Fruit? I dunno. You sure you don't want this?" He held what was left of the beef with a fork, showing it off to her.

"Does it taste like... bad, too?"

"Beef? Nah, it's great."

"Then I will stick to this. Pleasure is sin. You will come to lear--"

"Wait, what the hell? I'm... eating something that tastes good. I'm not ramming someone in bed." He said, putting the fork and beef back in his plate, having to hold his hand due to the pain. Damn these stupid circles!

"It shall lead to gluttony."

"Well, I gotta tell you... ugh.. I love bread, alright? I'm not going to gorge myself on bread no matter how much I like it. Ca-can you make it stop again?" He hissed in pain, breathing slowly.

"Mhm." She clicked her fingers, and with a sigh of relief, Rumble pushed his plate forward.

"It isn't going to hurt. Just take a nibble? I mean, whoever's up there ain't going to banish you for nipping on meat, right? Like... uhh... you like your work, right? That gives you pleasure, yeah? And it doesn't count as sinning. So I think it's fine that I say this meat is mighty fine, and that you should try it."

Squinting, Poppy sighed. Well... he had a point, flimsy as it was. She really did enjoy bringing sinners into the fold once again. It almost filled her with sin herself sometimes.. Pride. Well, she hadn't gotten banished from heaven for that.

A nibble couldn't hurt.

By the time they were done, the sun was starting to dim on the horizon, and four plates were on their table. Poppy was giggling, Rumble was smiling, both of them had their hands covered in food. And truth be told? Neither of them could be happier.

On Tristana's house, however, a very snarky Devil laughed at a terribly worried Gunner.

"YOU JUST. WENT TO THE TABLE."

"Yeah!"

"YOU LITERALLY ANNOYED EVERYONE SO BADLY THEY LEFT."

"Yup!"

"Teemo what the absolute FUCK."

The Devil twirled around the room, floating just above the ground, smirking as he saw Tristana so utterly annoyed. "You know what I did is good, right? It's great, my dear! It's great!"

"Oh yeah let's just piss off an Angel. Yeah. Alright. Let's just find an Angel and fuck them up. Uh-huh. Annoy the crap outta 'em. Like what the fuck, dude?"

"Trist?" He was still giggling, but soon it stopped. "I didn't tell you why I fell yet, did I?"

She shook her head, and he made her sit down, resting on top of her lap, arms wrapped around her like a lover.

"Well... you promise not to laugh?" His cheeky grin faded, as he seemed almost sad. No, totally sad. Downright depressed, actually.

"It was... well." He shuffled a little, losing his sensual composure, the very heat of his body dimming. "I was like her, you know."

Taking a small break with each sentence, he continued, slumping into a sorrier state with each word. "I... had, I had met someone like you." His fur drying up. "Just as horny. Just as shameless." Even less warm than before. "And even more charismatic." His eyes fading.

"I... I let them break me and cast me aside. We had just... we had just finished our first laying. And t-then they broke me. They snapped my Halo." The fur on his neck becoming like straw, a spark away from flourishing in flames. "And I think, I think she feared that kind of punishment? Oh, dear Tristana... h-how much I howled... so loudly..."

She was softly caressing his fur through the story, trying to make him feel at ease.

"... please tell me you will not leave me?" He asked, skin flaking in a rather grim sight. No flesh underneath, just fiery chaos.

"I won't. It's fine. I don't, I don't need to know more. Shhh." Her hands caressed his fur ever so slowly, being careful not to make him fall apart even further. "It's ok."

"She repented. I fell for her and she repented. I.. I just.. I just want Poppy to go through it too." He hissed, Tristana having to retract her fingers as flames started to sprout through his body. They did not harm her, but primal fear still was stronger than her emotions. "And if Rumble does not repent... then at least... at least they will have lost one more angel. T-then, then I'll be happy. I just. I just don't want to go through this again. Don't leave me." He hugged Tristana tightly, the Gunner having to be ever so careful with her fingers to not insert them into where his skin had fallen.

There he stayed until they both fell asleep, Teemo's claws dug deep into her, as if to make sure she could not escape. She could not escape. For him. He couldn't handle it again...

Though the sun was now far gone, while Tristana and Teemo slept cuddling each other, Rumble was slaving himself over checking his mechanical beasts.

"Ok, Poppy?" He placed both of his hands on a lever, the Angel's Hammer ready to strike a large button. Usually, it was TRISTY's job to smash, but now that he had someone to coordinate with... it was just so much easier. "Ready?"

"Ready!"

"Here we go then!" He pulled the lever down, the machine rumbling to life, skulls made out of scrap flaring up and pipes hastily bolted together blasting up dark smoke, fire occasionally blasting from the skulls' eyes and mouth. The rectangularly shaped monstrosity of brass and iron started to shake uncontrollably, the sound of glass inside it tumbling about as if the machine was not working properly. Yet, with a blow to shake the Earth itself, Poppy smashed her hammer into the machine's button.

The sound of a hundred glass bottles getting splintered into shards invisible to the naked eye filled the night, and Rumble let out a delighted yell. Poppy laughed with joy, feeling overwhelmed with pure glee out of the fact she could actually use her Hammer again! This was pure bliss. Even if there was not the sound of heretics yelling, the song of rebirth was a suitable replacement.

"So! What are you doing with all that glass, Sinner mine?" Poppy asked, setting her feet on the ground, gentle as butterfly despite the seemingly heavy equipment.

"Make a visor for TRISTY. Replace these windows... maybe just try to get into doing sculptures with it. Oh, or like, oh shit yeah.." He scratched his chin, ideas for lightbulbs and warning lights flashing through his head the same way that the blinding pain flashed through his hand.

"I'M SORRY! Ugh..." He groaned. Poppy's smile slightly dimmed, but still showed happiness.

"Swear less. It will do you good."

"Yeah no sh....aying. No saying."

The black smoke billowed from the pipes, and once the pain settled, Rumble smiled again.

"Hey, Pops? Thanks."

Her cheeks flushed with Arclight. "Thank you, dear Sinner. You are.. slowly proving yourself."

They stared at the machine spewing its smoke through holes in the ceiling, flames occasionally sprouting from the holes at the hot temperatures. The orange and black monstrosity wasn't helped to look any nicer by the silly details Rumble added, but she couldn't help but admit to enjoying its aesthetic, as a parent would enjoy their children's drawing.

"Well, uh. It shouldn't be that late yet. You want to help me move some more things inside for tomorrow?"

"As long as you are not simply idling by. Guide the way, Sinner mine."

"By the way.." He asked,  grabbing the keys for his Shitty Contraption for Organizing Trash. S.C.O.U.T., for short... and unlike the asshats that sniffed mushrooms and poisoned each other all day, this was actually useful.  Like a lifter, the only difference being the fact it was made of garbage parts... and had a spiked tip. Truth be told, it was just as much a lifter as a jousting machine. Sadly, he hadn't tried jousting with anything but trash. Shame. When would he realize that machine's design?

"...uh, yeah?" Poppy asked, Rumble staring at his keys with a troubled look, being snapped out of thinking about his S.C.O.U.T. by his Angel.

"AH. Uh.. oh shiiilinders. Cylinders. L-like trashcans, you know. I could use some. But uh, not, not what I wanted to talk about. I mean like... why didn't you kill me or her yet?"

Poppy chuckled, placing a cold hand on his shoulder. Soft, gentle, like a breeze at springtime. Just as light, too, despite the materials of the glove. "And doom you to eternity in the cesspit of Hell? Enough angels have been broken, Sinner mine. There will be no more Light spilled by petty squabbles, no more blood or children wasted. I do not want more souls being damned yet crippled, unable to do evil. I want souls pure of light and sane of mind, willing to do all that is kind and good."

"Oh, so you're in because Trist was a Gunner and stuff?"

"A Gunner? You mean she was in a military organization?"

"I mean.. yeah? Wait you guys just get randomly assigned to people with different amounts of sin?"

"Uh.. no? We're told in case they do something truly heinous. Tristana summoned a Fallen One. This is no simple thing. But.. really? She was a Soldier? I prefer to deal with them myself.. how odd. I usually meet them on the battlefield."

Rumble had sat on the table he picked his keys from, a small little metal shelf with it's lower tiers missing. Thankfully the Yordle was as light as they came, so it had no problem handling his weight. "Go on? You just pray to people on the battle, you listen to their prayers or..?"

"We look for the dying ones in their last moments. We grant them peace, and a chance to atone for their sins in the afterlife through thorough punishment at the Purgatory. Nothing quite as severe as hell. Repeating words, outfitting our Archangels, creating the wheels that house our true selves."

"I... don't even know where to begin, if it's with the slavery or the wheel thing. What the fuckeruhhh...nuggets?

To his surprise, his hand did not sting.

"Fuckernuggets?" Nothing. "Shitdoodles?" Nope. "Bullcraparangsia?" Relief from the anxiety of another sting.

"...W-what sounds are you making, and slavery? What are you talking about? As for the wheels, I do not think your mortal eyes are quite ready for the magnificence of Heaven and the Light."

"But it was made by dudes from Runeterra..?"

"Who will one day find their way to Heaven, yes. In fact, I think you will make a fine addition there once you die. If you actually repent and help your friend repent too, that Tristana of Bandle City, your fine might be a lot less... punishing. And your time in Heaven more enjoyable, too."

"That just sounds like exchanging favors at this point. I'm not against it, just... wow, really? Heaven really work like that? Man. I gotta tell Ziggs."

"Ziggs? I remember that poor fool. His anecdotes were quite funny when I kept him in Heaven's gate. Oh, he is in Bandle City as well? May we visit him one of these days?"

"Yeah! He's my buddy. He talked about me?"

"He did speak of an Engineer of unmatched stubbornness and creativity... well, you do match the bill."

Rumble blinked, before smiling in disbelief. "I love that guy so much oh Gods.."

"Pardon?"

"HE'S SO CUTE. He's a brother to me! Holy crappringles?" A pause to see if the pain would come. "...Holy crappingles is he just the absolute bestest mate I could hope for. Like, he died? And spent time?! Talking about me! WHILE DEAD! I wouldn't talk about me! I'm a fucking asshole!" The searing pain hit him like a truck, and once again, due to her benevolence, Poppy made it disappear.

"T-that.. oof, that was well deserved alright. But, yeah. I'm so happy. We can go meet him, yeah. You know Poppy... if more angels are like you, I think I'll like heaven."

"You would enjoy Heaven anyway. Simply follow our rules. Now, Sinner. Back to the matter at hand."

"Oh? Oh, right, trash heaving. Alright. Give me a lift and we can start again."

Poppy closed her eyes and put him on the S.C.O.U.T.'s seat, letting him drive piles of salvageable scrap inside the warehouse.

This Yordle world was so much more different than the Human one she was usually visiting. There were still screams, but of confusion and joy instead of pain and despair. They were stubborn, stubborn as her will, and gave no ground even when faced with a Repenter. So savvy they were with things that no one in their right minds should delve in!

There was some sort of admiration to be had for these hardy creatures. They were quite different from humans, they were.

She liked it.

[justjoeyyy-blog-blog]

Day 19-22

6-2-17 Day 19: I was able to get off the ship today in ensenada. We went to the "resort" that we went to last time. This time I got burnt. Only one person said something though compared to when I was burnt on my cruise in march and no one would leave me alone. The lady goes "are you okay?" And I was so confused until she touched her face lol. I got a strawberry daiquiri while I was at the resort and when it got to me there was salt on the rim...I thought it was sugar so I took a huge lick of it. Why the hell would you put salt with a strawberry daiquiri?? Then I sipped it and there was salt in the drink! I was so confused. Maybe it's Mexico thing? So I told the guy at the bar who doesn't speak and English that it was disgusting and salt doesn't go with a strawberry daiquiri and they said I didn't have to pay for it. I can seriously still taste it. After that I did the build a bear workshop. They had me stitching the bears which I had no idea how to do. I finally got the hang of it and at the end I was told I was tying them all wrong haha. I was with the 9-11 year olds again. And again we had people come in and say "this is it?! What is this?!" In which I have to explain that we do games that don't require much. Like one game we do where everyone ties a balloon to their ankle and you have to try and pop the other people's balloon. Whoever is last wins. The kids absolutely LOVE the games we do but it's hard to see when you walk in and see a conference room with a few games and a lot of space. One boy so rudely in front of his mom talked back to me about it, and by the end of the night he was the happiest kid in the world. The parents also get mad at me when I say we can't move their children into different age groups to be with their siblings. Like bitch I don't make up the rules why am I getting yelled at for this crap. One of the kids was 8 and wanted to be moved up. He walked in sucking his thumb...like wtf no turn away. For night owls tonight (10pm-1am) they were having a "party" for the older kids. The amount of kids in that tiny room was insane and probably proceeded the amount of people you can have in that room. Then on the other side we had 2 babies under the age of 2 as well as other young children with only 2 staff on each side. It is very important to always have someone at the door which means there's really only 1 person with the kids it's insane. There's a lot of things that could be changed to make work A LOT easier. I always think of undercover boss how they go in disguise to work at their own company's and they see all these terrible things that need to be changed. One huge example I have is when we do build a bear. There are 2 huge carts that we literally have to push from one end of the ship to the other. You have to have 2 people on each cart and they weigh easily 200+ pounds. The wheels on the bottom are old and barely work and we can't get the carts over the door frames on the way to our destination. They also barely fit through the doors so if you're not careful you'll literally squish your finger very badly. We also carry another huge cart that doesn't have any sides so we have to put tape all around it. Then when we're done we have to bring it back to camp and shove it into a tiny closet that of course is located right in the walk way that's about the size of a small dressing room. Carnival's first priority in their company is safety yet they have us doing this. It wouldn't be so bad if we had the things stored where we had the actual workshop. It's seriously ridiculous and it infuriates me that no one has said anything to the office about it. It's 12:11 right now. I need to go to bed. Tomorrow is day at sea which means working all freaking day. And then the next day my aunt and uncle are picking me up in Long Beach! So excited :) I haven't seen my aunt in about a year and I haven't seen my uncle since I was a freshman in college so it's been a while. Getting off the boat in general is always great. I'm also super happy because they fixed the light in my bunk and our desk. It usually takes them awhile but they got it done within a day. Today my roommate told me that she doesn't get pimples anywhere besides her butt. Like how do you respond to that? She's super sweet and very funny. Also very outgoing. She looks like a 10 year old. She is so tiny it's crazy. Much better than the last roommate that's for sure. 6-3-17 Day 20: got woken up this morning at 730 to the light being turned on. Then my roommate left for work and kept it on...I'm pretty sure I'm gonna move into rains room. I really like my new roommate but I need sleep 😳 it's not possible to do this job without sleep. Especially on a sea day like today where we work 10-12 hours. The boat is also really rocky today. I'm so nauseous. And it doesn't help that I keep having hot flashes. Like literally dripping sweat. I don't get it. It also doesn't help that we have to wear these stupid pants and ugly ass polo. My room legit smells like feet. 6-4-17 Day 21: I'm getting off the boat in 2 hours :) my aunt and uncle are picking me up. Yesterday was a long ass day. I finally started feeling better after I ate dinner yesterday. But now I'm feeling icky again. It feels like we're still moving but we're docked. I'm also low on sleep because my dumbass decided to go out last night instead of going to bed early. It was really fun though and I met a lot more people. It's pretty nice to be at a bar and then just walk down to your room within a minute. Before I went out me Rain Elle and britny went and saw the epic rock show. I've seriously never seen something so amazing. Our boat is known for having the best performers and performances. The vocals on these people are insane. I couldn't keep still in my seat. I got a little too into it. I'm really sad though because that cast is leaving in 2 weeks and a new cast is coming on board. On the bright side I'll be able to meet new people! Usually the guys are gay so no bf for me. But still more friends and maybe even another American :p I just realized that last night when I got back from the bar I took my pills that I'm supposed to take in the morning...I've never done that before. Speaking of medicine, I found out one of my friends from college passed away. I met him on the first night freshman year and he practically lived in our building. He was such a fun guy. I was told that they think he purposely overdosed. He just graduated in may and move to a new state just 2 weeks ago. Another friend gone by suicide. I so badly wish that we could do more for these people that need help. I also recently heard that someone I knows family member took his life just last week. I was reading one of my magazines the other day and there was a whole article on 13 reasons why. When I got on the boat no one really knew what I was talking about because they've been on here without access to internet (or at least internet that works well enough to watch shows). It's kinda cool how you escape from the outside world when you're on the boat. On a different note I think I'm going parasailing tomorrow in Catalina! I haven't been off at that port yet so I'm super excited. One of the guys I met who was in the fun squad had to leave the boat the other day because he lost his passport 😳 I literally thought this guy was in his 20s and he's 41.......my mind was blown. I thought he was messing with me. A lot of people on here look really young for their age. Getting off the boat today was great. My aunt and uncle picked me up. We ate outside and talked for hours and I got my nails done. Still need to get my haircut majorly. An hour ago I went to close the club (it's open for embarkation for like an open house) and it was fucking trashed again. Poker chips all over the place. Jenga pieces cover the floor. Uno and playing cards all mixed together. I just want to know wtf is going through these people's heads. And where are their parents? I don't think I'm going parasailing tomorrow either :/ I was gonna go with britny and now she has a training. I might go by myself though and lay out on the beach :) I open the club in an hour. I really shouldn't take a nap because it's just gonna make me more tired but I have an hour so I'm gonna. I got to meet the kids today. They're actually really awesome. One of the girls told me I'm the chilliest person ever lol. On captains dinner nights we have imaginary Prom. Tonight the kids got really into it and one of the boys made up a whole promposal for one of the girls it was hilarious. He made me play romantic music and he got down on one knee and asked her. And then they slow danced. It was so cute. I have a shit ton of kids. My club is way too small for the amount I have this cruise and really for any cruise. I don't have work tomorrow until 4 😍 I might get off in Catalina and go lay out at the beach alone or I might just lay out on the ship. We have to take tender boats to the port and it can get super chaotic. I'll get off another time when I have a friend to go with me. 6-5-17 Day 22: it's almost 1 and I'm still in bed. I had my alarm set for 1030 but that didn't happen obviously. I was having a really weird dream that I couldn't wake up from. I've had the weirdest dreams since I've been here it's freaky. I start at 3 today. Thought I started at 4 :/ I've already wasted my day away so I'll probably just sleep some more. I need it big time. I seriously love my kids. Besides the fact that they don't clean up after themselves. They loved the whole imaginary Prom idea. We had a prom king and queen it was great. Nominations and then voting. I wanted to rig the votes so the couple I like could win but some of the girls asked if they could help tally up the votes so it didn't work. I met someone moving to stl for a mission trip. He'll be living there for 2 years. Kinda interesting! He's Mormon. After work we had a party in the crew bar lounge. It was a lot of fun and I got to talk to a lot of people, especially one of the guys that's actually a potential option but he was wasted out the ass and definitely won't even remember talking tomorrow. I have training in 5.5 hours. It's 308am. But I had fun tonight so whatever.

[artificialqueens]

The Ballad of Violet and Pearl (Chapter 9) - Scarlet

A/N - set mostly in the 1950’s, the idea came from Jinkx’s song ‘The Ballad of Johnny and Jack’ and influenced the story. Also influenced by Thelma and Louise. ‘Ballad’ in the 50’s was a term used for a love letter.

This is the second to last chapter! The first part is a series of flashbacks.

TW - Loads more angst I’m afraid and violence and Matt being an asshole in general. The next chapter gets much happier and fluffier I swear!

Chapter 9

Matt went back to the bar, half hoping Danny might have come back here but he hadn’t. He sat at the bar, ordered a whiskey and told the bar tender to keep them coming. He never should have brought Jason along on this crazy ride. Everything that had happened over the last few years was his fault. He’d dragged Jason into his mess and that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair for Jason to have suffer because of Matt’s mistakes.

————————————

Florida

December 1951

Matt watched him over his paper from his booth in the diner. He was stood at the counter next to Delta who was also eyeing him up but for completely different reasons. Delta was eyeing him up because she was a man eater and the man was extremely gorgeous, even Matt thought so. But that’s not why Matt was watching him. Matt was watching him for the big wad of cash he was flaunting. It had piqued Matt’s interest. Maybe he’d have to keep an eye on this guy.

For the next few weeks Matt sat at his booth and watched the guy. He was a big guy, bearded and tattooed and also, clearly loaded. Matt had noticed the car he drove, the large watch adorned on his wrist; he knew the signs. But he also knew he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about these things. Pearl had been dead for some months now and although Matt missed her greatly he knew it was for the best. Life without Pearl had been calmer, safer. He hadn’t had to worry about constantly looking over his shoulder anymore which was so nice. But he was also in the need of money. Desperately. Usually his marks were a lot older, a lot older. But this guy had the goods and Matt wanted, no, Matt needed the goods. So he started formulating a plan. He just had to keep it from Jason.

————————————

January 1952

Pearl smoked a cigarette getting a little impatient as she leant against the wall round the side of the diner. She had to make sure Jason wouldn’t see her, despite the darker wig she knew he’d recognise her. The wig was more for the purposes of hiding from the fuzz. She looked surprisingly different just wearing a different hair colour and the few tweaks she’d made to her make-up. Matt had taken his septum ring out after he’d killed off Pearl, he’d never much liked it on him, so that helped her disguise. She flicked the cigarette on the floor and stamped on it with her pump. She was getting impatient now, the cigarette butts piling up proved that. She’d been planning this for weeks but for the plan to work the guy actually needed to leave the diner. She lit another cigarette just as she spotted him. She was stood right by his car to make sure she wouldn’t miss him. He was pulling his keys from his jacket pocket when he spotted her. She gave him a half-smile as he looked at her. He smiled back and came closer.

‘Hey there doll.’ He eyed her up and down and his smile grew. Pearl had taken a leaf from Violet’s book to ensure she would catch his attention. She was wearing a sinfully tight pair of leather pants that had involved a whole new level of tucking, a lacy bralette showing off her stomach and a white fur throw around her shoulders. She’d contoured the life out of her chest and padded the bra as much she could. She had long dark press on nails that matched her lipstick and big diamond earrings that hung down to her shoulders.

'Hi.’ She smiled dragging on the cigarette.

'What’s a beautiful lady such as yourself doing hanging around out here alone?’ He raised an eyebrow at her. Pearl licked her lip and flicked the cigarette to the floor. She came close to the guy and put her hand on his shoulder and moved her lips to his ear.

'I’m looking for trouble.’ She whispered. When she pulled back the guy was smirking sexily.

'You might have found it.’ He held out his hand, Pearl took it. 'I’m Boomer. Boomer Banks. I’m new around here.’

Perfect, then he’ll have no idea who I am.

'Pearl. Pearl Liaison. I’m sure I can show you around.’ She winked at him as he kissed the back of her hand. It was as easy as taking candy from a baby. And boy did she have a sweet tooth.

————————————

March 1952

It was a year to the day that Pearl had died she realised as she sat in the passenger’s seat of Boomer’s car. They’d seen a lot of each other the last few months. She was yet to get her hands on his cash but she did some have shiny new toys. In exchange for blow jobs, Boomer brought Pearl all the jewellery she could desire. Once she got everything she wanted out of him she would sell it all. She spent most of her time with Boomer, working her way into his life, preparing for the day she would take it all. He’d tried to get into her pants on numerous occasions but she kept telling him she wanted to wait and would placate with him another blow job. It would all be worth it when she got her wind fall. She just had to bide her time.

Boomer drove them out of town to the beach. Pearl’s tuck had to be tighter than ever to look like a convincing woman in a bathing suit. She was sure Matt would never have full use of his member again after this. Pearl adjusted her sun hat as Boomer lit a blunt. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

'You look so good right now babe.’ He blew the smoke right in her face and Pearl had to try and hide her annoyance. Boomer leant closer and kissed her, his beard rubbing hard against her chin. She always worried he would take her make-up off with that thing. She could taste the weed on his lips, she always could. Boomer was a bigger stoner than she was. He sat back and took another pull before handing it to Pearl. She just smiled and took it. When the blunt was finished Boomer’s lips found hers again. He pushed her back into the sand and climbed on top of her as he kissed her. Pearl had to try and focus on other things because Boomer was attractive and she always worried about getting hard when he kissed her. It would be especially difficult to hide in this bathing suit. But it was worth it if she got her hands on his cash. And she would. It was only a matter of time.

————————————

April 1952

Matt had had to lie to Jason a lot recently. He didn’t like doing so but it was going to all be worth it. He had Boomer well and truly on his hook. He was sure it would only be a matter of time before his plan came to fruition. Pearl had managed to start taking bits of money where she could and with it Matt had brought his beautiful Buick. Jason had of course been sceptical when he’d seen it. Matt met him from the diner that day, stood proudly by his new baby. Jason stepped outside and frowned immediately.

'Where the heck did you get the money for that?’ He folded his arms, eyeing Matt up like he already knew the answer to that.

'Bank loan.’ Matt shrugged. 'Let’s go for a drive!’ He jumped in the car, hoping Jason would drop it.

'What the heck kind of bank would give you a loan to buy a car?’ Jason was still on the sidewalk staring at him.

'What’s with the third degree? Quit bashing my ear and get in.'

'You didn’t do something stupid did you Matt?’ Jason unfolded him arms and he looked a little scared.

'Course not.’ Matt scoffed. 'Now come on. You’ll love the way the wind feels in your hair.’ He smiled at Jason in such a way Jason forgot all his reservations.

'Can I drive?’ He grinned as headed to the passenger’s door.

'Over my dead body.’ Matt laughed and he fired up the car and drove like a bat out of hell.

————————————

June 1952

Things were bad. Matt and Pearl had both fucked up. She’d gotten too carried away, she’d let her guards down. Rookie fucking mistake. Pearl had started getting her hands on larger amounts of cash off Boomer but the two of them were also growing closer. Usually she did a really good job at stopping their make out sessions before they went too far. Not this time. And now she and Matt were paying for it.

They’d been in at the park, Boomer had taken her for her a picnic. He played the hard bastard role well but it hadn’t taken Pearl long to see through it. He was surprisingly romantic and sweet. He’d been more than ok that Pearl wanted to wait, as long as he got frequent blow jobs anyway. Pearl might go as far to say that she was falling for him. He wasn’t her type, not really, but there was something about him. She’d stopped getting disgusted when he kissed her and started wishing he’d do it more often. She felt happy around him and for once it had nothing to do with the money. So when he’d kissed her and laid her back in the grass she melted into him. She got rid of his shirt and ran her fingernails over his hard, toned abs. He ran his fingers through her wig and kissed her with such ferocity it made Pearl feel as though she was on fire. So when his hand trailed up her thigh and to her panties she let it. She let his hand slide inside her panties too. And then everything went wrong. His hand went between her legs and almost immediately snatched away. Boomer sat back, his face completely unidentifiable.

'What. The. Fuck.’ He punctuated his sentence with deep breaths. Pearl’s eyes went wide and she shuffled back from Boomer. For a second she thought maybe he’d understand. Maybe he’d fallen for her to the point he wouldn’t care what was between her legs?

'I uhm…it’s complicated.’ She bit her lip. Boomer’s face suddenly went bright red.

'Complicated? Do you or do you not have a pussy?’ He spat and Pearl’s hopes went straight out the window.

'Uhm…well…no.'

Boomer shoot up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her up to.

'You’re a fucking man?’ He asked her, holding her wrist tightly.

'Well I mean…I suppose you could say-’ she was cut off by Boomer shoving her hard. She stumbled a little in her heels on the grass but managed to steady herself.

'You’re fucking dead faggot!'

'Don’t call me that.’ Pearl knew it wasn’t the time to be arguing but she and Matt both hated that word.

'Shut up.’ He advanced on her and pulled the earrings he’d brought her clean from her ears. There was blood, Pearl saw it. He ripped the necklace he brought off from her neck too and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and shoved her back into a large tree. He practically ripped the wig from her head and then his big meaty hand was on her face and smudging her make-up. Pearl couldn’t help herself when she started to cry. She stood there as Boomer started ripping the clothes clean from her body, as though he wouldn’t believe it until he saw for himself. When he was done, some kind of male/female hybrid stared back at him.

'You are so fucking dead.’ He spat and grabbed her roughly by the arm and threw her down into the dirt. He kicked her in the side a couple of times when she cried and whimpered. But it was only going to get worse. She saw him reach behind him and untuck his shirt. She knew what was coming. She just managed to get upright as Boomer was pulling the gun from his waist band. The first bullet landed right by her foot as she started to run, not giving a second thought to what she must look like. The second bullet flew passed her head and she screamed a little, quickening her pace. She managed to kick her shoes off as she ran which allowed her to go faster.

'You won’t get away that easily! I will find you and when I do, I’ll kill you!’ He shouted after her. She could still hear the gun firing and bullets flying through the air. She had no idea how she escaped without getting hit but she knew one thing for sure. If she didn’t get the hell out of this town she was going to die.

A week later Matt sat in the diner, his nerves still on edge. Boomer hadn’t been back in which he was glad of; that didn’t stop him being terrified everywhere he went though. Katya had taken his order with a side of comments about his demeanour that he’d tried to ignore. Every time the bell above the door chimed Matt jumped out of his seat. He had to get out of here, Boomer would find him eventually, the town wasn’t that big. And when he found him, he was going die. His nerves were so rattled he didn’t notice Jason come over and slide into the booth.

'I should have known I’d find you here.'

His eyes shot open and his heart started hammering again. His eyes met the dark brown ones of the man who had just joined him in the booth. Matt clenched his jaw and reached over the table and slapped him in the arm.

'Jesus Christ, are you trying to give a guy a heart attack?’ Matt flicked his ash in the ash tray.

'Katya said you were twitchy today. What’s got your panties in a twist?’ Jason laughed and took the cigarette from Matt’s hand before dragging on it. Matt swallowed and briefly looked around the diner again.

'Nothing, I’m fine. Katya needs to keep her goddamn mouth closed.’ He grumbled. 'I didn’t think you got off until two anyway?'

'Quiet day.’ Jason shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. 'You’ve been here every day this week.'

Matt frowned and pulled his cigarette case back out and lit another one.

'Since when are you keeping tabs on me?’ He picked up his mug and took a sip of the blacker than black coffee.

'Just an observation.’ Jason took a final drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out in the ash tray.

'I like it here.’ Matt shrugged.

'Sure.’ Jason rolled his eyes. They fell into silence after that and soon Katya brought Matt’s food over, thankfully without a side of comments about his disposition this time. He ate his food while Jason stole his fries. Once Matt finished they both lit new cigarettes. Jason was staring at him.

'Something’s bothering you.’ He told Matt.

'I’m fine, jeez what’s with everyone today?'

'Every time the door opens you look about ready to jump out your skin. What’s wrong Matt? You can tell me.’ Jason’s facial expression softened. Matt bit his lip and looked briefly back over at the door.

'I can’t.’ He whispered. 'I wish I could, but I can’t.’ He dragged on the cigarette. 'Jason, how long have we known each other?’

'Uhm, I don’t know. Like twelve or thirteen years I guess?’ Jason frowned, was Matt trying to change the subject.

'You’re my best friend right?'

'Of course I am.’ Jason’s frown grew. 'What’s going on?’

'Hypothetically, if I were ever to say to you, I need to you get in the car with me and drive far away from this place and never look back, what would you say?'

Jason was frowning so hard it hurt his head. Matt’s face was a picture of fear. It scared Jason.

'Hypothetically, I’d say yes bitch let’s go.’ Jason shrugged. Matt swallowed and nodded taking another drag on the cigarette.

'In that case,’ he leant forward on the table. 'I need you to get in the car with me and drive far away from this place and never look back.’ He awaited Jason’s reaction. Jason finished his cigarette and pulled his hair down from its bun he always wore it in for work. He ran his fingers through it.

'Yes bitch, let’s go.’ He shrugged

And the rest was history. The rest was already written in their ballad. Maybe one day Matt would find it in him to thank Jason.

————————————

October 1956 - Colorado

Matt eventually stumbled back to the motel. He’d had time to think, really think and he didn’t like that. Matt tried his best not to think at any cost. But he’d gone over everything in his head from the day he’d met Jason when he was just five years old. He’d thought about the first time he and Jason had dressed up as Violet and Pearl, he thought about Jason’s mom’s death and the promise he’d made her. He thought about the promise Jason had made Ru. He thought about Naomi and Courtney, getting Naomi pregnant, the car accident, the baby that was never born and their break up. He thought about Jason proposing to Courtney and Matt wreaking her car. He thought about Violet and Pearl’s deaths, the car in the ravine, the papers. He thought about Boomer and barely escaping with his life. He thought about Billy Ray, about Ivy. He thought about all the bad things he’d done in his twenty-two years. All his sins, his mistakes and wrong doings. But mostly he just thought about Jason.

Jason was sat crossed legged in the middle of the bed with the ashtray in front of him and a blunt between his lips when Matt let himself back in. He could tell by Jason’s blood shot eyes that wasn’t his first of the night.

'Oh look,’ Jason scoffed. 'The wanderer returns.’ He rolled his eyes and sucked on the blunt. The words that came out of Matt’s mouth were not at all what he expected to say. But after all his thinking he’d decided it might be about time to start atoning for his sins.

'I wrecked Courtney’s car.’ He said with a small shrug and sat in the chair at the dresser. He lit a cigarette. Jason almost dropped the blunt on the bed. His eyes went wide as he stared at Matt.

'Excuse me?’ He hoped he hadn’t heard him right.

'It was me. I trashed her car.'

'What? Why?’ Jason stared at him in shock. It had been years, why was Matt telling him this now?

'Because I saw you propose to her. And my mind kinda went hazy and the next thing I remember the car was trashed and my knuckles were bleeding. I mean I don’t remember doing it, but I guess I must have done.'

'That’s why you didn’t show up at the diner.’ Jason ran his fingers through his hair. 'Fuck.'

'Yeah.’ Matt dragged on the cigarette.

'Why are telling me this now?'

'I don’t know. I guess I had time to think. I’ve done a lot of bad stuff in my time and most of it I can’t do anything about. Nothing is going to make them better. But I guess this is one thing that I can at the very least apologise for. So I’m sorry.'

'It’s not me you should apologise to.’ Jason scoffed.

'Well I can’t exactly show my face in Florida right now Jason so this will have to do.’ He told the brunette sternly. Jason swallowed and continued to drag on the blunt while Matt smoked his cigarette. After a while of silence Jason sighed.

'I guess I have something I should apologise for too.’ He spoke quietly half hoping Matt might not hear him. Matt stubbed out the cigarette and looked at him inquisitively.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.’ Jason swallowed again and prepared himself for what Matt’s reaction might be. 'It was me that hit Naomi with the car.’ He held his breath. He saw the colour drain from Matt’s face. He saw his chest heave in and out as he took deep breaths. He saw his hands clenched and unclench, his nostrils flare and unflare.

'You…you…no. No you wouldn’t do that.’ Matt shook his head. He wished he didn’t believe it. He wished Jason was lying.

'I did.’ Jason croaked. He moved over to the edge of the bed and sat on it. 'I don’t think I meant to. I saw her in the road and I swear to god I hit the brakes but the car didn’t stop. It went faster.’ A small tear rolled from his eye.

'It went faster? Then you were on the accelerator?’ Matt shot up angrily.

'I don’t think I’d do that! I meant to hit the brake!’

'You hit her and left her in the middle of the road! Fucking hell, all these years I’ve felt guilty for what I did to Court but my god!’ Matt yelled, pacing the room. 'She could have lost the baby!’

'But she didn’t!’ Jason jumped up too.

'She could have done.’

'Oh don’t pretend you ever cared about that baby Matt!’ Jason had a flood of anger wash over him. Sure he knew Matt wouldn’t take this well but Jason wasn’t responsible for what happened to their baby. That was all on Naomi.

'What?’ Matt spat. 'Of course I fucking cared! How can you say that? Not a day goes passed when I don’t think about that kid! They would be five now. I don’t even know what it would have been. It keeps me awake at night Jason! Would I have had a little girl or a little boy? Would they look like me? Would they be smart, funny, would they be good? How the heck can you say I didn’t care?’ Matt hadn’t realised he’d started crying. His unborn child was a sore spot for him.

'Because you let her abort them! If you cared you wouldn’t have let her do that!’ Jason was still yelling. He wasn’t caving just because Matt was crying.

'Let her? Let her?’ Matt yelled even louder. 'I didn’t let her do anything of the sort! She didn’t tell me she was having an abortion. She went to the clinic and she got rid of our baby without even talking to me about it! That’s why we broke up, because I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as that fucking bitch!’ He was practically screaming at this point. He turned to the wall and rammed his fist into the plaster. The wall crumbled a little but that didn’t stop Matt. He hit it a second time, then a third. Jason noticed the blood after the third punch which made him spring to action. He grabbed Matt’s shoulders and tried to pull him into a hug to calm him but Matt shoved him backwards. Jason stumbled and fell to the floor with a thud.

'Don’t touch me.’ Matt still sounded angry but his voice was lower and he was still crying. Jason had no idea. He’d always just assumed Matt and Naomi had come to the decision together. He should be angry at Matt for shoving him but given the circumstances he wasn’t. He stood back up and grabbed some tissue from the side before tentatively handing it to Matt.

'You’re bleeding.’ He whispered. Matt stared at the tissue for a moment before taking it and wrapping it around his knuckles. 'Why did you never tell me?’

'I didn’t want to talk about it. I was afraid I would act…like this.’ He slumped back into the chair and lit a blunt with his good hand. Jason sat back on the edge of the bed.

'Is that why you had to leave? Did you…did you do something to her?'

'What? No!’ Matt frowned. 'I stayed out of the bitch’s way after we broke up. Don’t get me wrong I could have hurt her. But I didn’t.'

'I’m sorry I hit her.’

'She deserved it.’ Matt shrugged.

'Why did we have to leave Matt? It’s been four years and you’ve never told me.’ Jason forward and put his hand on Matt’s knee. Matt dragged on the blunt staring over Jason’s head.

'I pissed off the wrong person.’

'Who?'

'His name was Boomer Banks. I watched him for a while flaunting his cash about the place and I wanted a piece of it. I revived Pearl and I started getting close to him. Only problem was I actually started to like him and I let my guards slip. When he found out I was a man he tried to kill me, I managed to get away but he swore he’d find me and finish the job. I had to leave before he did.'

'I knew you were still doing Pearl.’ Jason took his hand off Matt’s leg and sat back. 'I just knew it. I knew no bank was dumb enough to give you a loan.’ He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity.

'I always fuck up without you. When I don’t listen to you, bad things always happen.’

'I’ve been telling you that for years.’ Jason chuckled a little. Matt dropped the blunt in the ashtray even though it wasn’t finished and stood up. He came over to Jason and crouched down in front of him.

'I’m better with you. You make a better person Jason. You complete me.’ His tears started falling again and it was so weird because Matt didn’t cry a lot and this was twice now. He cupped Jason’s face. 'You and me, we work together right? We’ve always worked together I was just too stubborn to see it.’ He moved closer and his lips brushed Jason’s. Jason melted a little, the way he always did when Matt kissed him. But then, suddenly he pulled back from Matt’s hold.

'Matt stop.’ He pushed Matt back a little. Matt stood up with a frown on his face.

'I don’t want to.’ He shook his head and pushed Jason back to the bed. He climbed on top of him and kissed him again, grinding his hips into the brunettes. It took all of Jason’s will power to push Matt away again, rolling him off him.

'I said stop.’ Jason sat up.

'Why?’ Matt frowned.

'I don’t want you.’ Jason stood up, backing away from Matt.

'Yes you do.’ Matt chuckled a little. Jason never turned him down.

'No.’ Jason felt his own tears brimming. 'I don’t want you after you’ve been with him.'

Matt stood up now too and came closer to Jason. Jason backed up into a wall as though he was scared of Matt.

'Jason, Danny was just fun. He didn’t mean anything.’ Matt placed his hands on Jason’s shoulders and tried to kiss him again but Jason turned his head away.

'It meant something to me. It hurt me Matt. A lot ok? I don’t want his sloppy seconds.’ He pushed Matt a little but Matt didn’t budge.

'You don’t mean that.’

'Yes I do.'

'No.’ Matt shook his head and moved his hands from Jason’s shoulders to his face. 'You want me. You always want me.’

'Not this time.’ Jason shook his head.

'You can’t do this.’ Matt snarled a little, his grip on Jason’s face getting a little tighter.

'I can do what the fuck I want. Just face it Matt, you fucked up ok? You ruined whatever it is we had. This is on you.’ Jason shoved him again. Matt still didn’t move. 'Let me go.’

'Not until you admit you want me.’

'Let me go.’ Jason repeated.

'No.’ Matt shook his head. Jason had flashbacks to the night at the bar when Matt met Ivy and how that had almost ended for her. He didn’t like this side of Matt.

'Matt you’re scaring me.’ Jason whispered.

'You’ll get over it.’ Matt kissed him again but Jason couldn’t handle anymore, he was a little afraid of what Matt might do. He took the chance to knee Matt in the crotch and Matt let go of him, stumbling backwards, cursing and gasping for air.

'What the fuck?’ He panted, doubled over.

'Do you even remember Billy Ray?’ Jason spat, angrier than he’d ever been. Matt caught his breath and allowed the pain in his groin to subside before he replied.

'Of course I fucking do.' What a dumb question.

'Then how the fuck can you do this?’ Jason spat again. 'He forced himself on you Matt, god knows what would have happened if I hadn’t come along! If you remember that, how the heck can you do that someone else? And it’s not like this is the first time, or have you forgotten about Ivy?’ Jason folded his arms and shook his head.

'Fuck you. I’m nothing like that sleaze.’

'Take a look in the fucking mirror Matt.’ Jason laughed. 'Right now you are no better than him. I think in a way you might even be worse! At least you were a stranger to him, at least it wasn’t his best friend he was forcing himself on!’

'I wasn’t forcing myself on you!'

'No? What would you call it then?’ Jason unfolded his arms.

'You wanted me! I just needed to remind you of that.'

Jason bit his lip and shook his head.

'No Matt, I didn’t. Any decent person would have stopped when I said I didn’t want it.'

'Don’t try and make me out like I’m some kind of bad guy. You’ve never said no before Jason. You usually want me. You’re the one that’s being a fucking a head fuck!’

'Are you for real?’ Jason practically gasped. 'Are you actually blaming me for this?'

'You never say no. Jason or Violet. You’re both whores, why wouldn’t you want it now?’

Jason couldn’t stop himself slapping Matt hard across the face. Matt groaned at the impact and Jason made a run for the door. Matt stopped him by grabbing his wrist roughly.

'You aren’t going anywhere.'

'Let go right now.’ Jason clenched his jaw and tried to sound angry. He didn’t want Matt to know how scared he was.

'And what if I don’t?’ Matt snarled.

'What the heck has happened to you?’ Jason couldn’t control the tears as they started to fall. 'Take a step back Matt and look at the situation. This isn’t you, not the Matt I know anyway. You’ve changed since we’ve been gone. I haven’t noticed it until right now, it happened so gradually but you have. I never in a million years thought I would be scared of you. I never in a million years thought I would…that I would…’ he choked a little on his sobs.

'That you’d what?’ Matt growled still holding his wrist.

'That I’d hate you. But I do. I really fucking do.’ Jason pulled at all his strength and managed to break free of Matt’s hold. He shoved Matt out of his way and ran to the door. He flung it open and stared running.

'Jason! Jason goddamnit get back here right fucking now!’ Matt yelled after him. Jason stopped for some reason and turned back to Matt who was advancing on him across the parking lot. 'Good boy.’ Matt smirked. Jason slapped him again, harder this time.

'I’m done Matt! I’m out, I am fucking out!'

'What does that mean?’ Matt growled again.

'It means I’m going back to Florida, as far away from you as I can. The fuzz aren’t after Jason, I don’t need to run anymore.'

'You’re not leaving me. I’m not losing you.’ Matt grabbed his arm again and held it so tight Jason yelped a little. The look in Matt’s eyes was one Jason had never seen before.

'You already lost me.’ Jason tried to tug free but Matt’s hold was too strong this time. 'Let me go.’

'No.’ Matt tightened his hold.

'Let me go.’ Jason repeated.

'No.'

Jason swallowed and dug in his pocket with his free hand. He pulled out his lighter and sparked it so the flame came to life.

'Let go or so help me god I will make you.'

'Do your worst.’ Matt smirked. He’s not leaving me a choice, Jason told himself. He took the lighter and held the flame to the skin on Matt’s knuckle where he’d punched the wall. Matt screamed in pain and let go of Jason’s arm.

'Son of a bitch!’ Matt yelled.

'Serves you right.’ Jason spat and then he was running again. He heard Matt calling out behind him. Jason kept running. He had nothing left to say; he had nothing left to give. Matt watched him go and all his previous anger seeped away. He hadn’t even made it back to the motel room before his tears started to fall. He collapsed to the bed in a ball and cried heavily. He’d ruined everything, just like he did best. He could have prevented this, he should have prevented this. But things were never going to be the same again, and it was all Matt’s fault.

[drabbles-n-stuff]

The Angel lifted her head, feeling the cold breeze and soft dew dripping on her.

Teemo lifted his head from a Scout manual he was reading, eyes widening and suddenly looking towards the door. Tristana’s house was much cleaner now they lived together, even if they moved through sheets just as often as they actually fucked. On the bath, Tristana slowly scrubbed away the dried, dead skin from a few a little too rough scratches that Teemo gave her during sex. The Demon popped up on the door frame, waving. “Uh, dear. Hell is calling me. You mind if I take a quick trip back there?”

“Yeah? Sure. That shouldn’t be more than a week, right? Yeah, I can live with that.” She purred, and as Teemo tried to walk away, her wet hand got hold of his fuzzy neck and pulled him back towards her. “Nuh-uh. You’re forgetting something.”

“I thought I was the Demon here.” He purred, but still obliged to her wish. A deep, tongue-filled kiss was given before Teemo waved his final bye. “Goodbye, dear. Don’t wait up.” He cracked a smirk, but as soon as he burst into flames, he was actually just inside Lulu’s forest. He could not go to hell yet, after all, Tristana was still alive. His reason for a quick break was the appearance of someone who knew he was here. An Angel? Really? The Gunner had been fucking incessantly for The Council only knows how many years and he takes a quick nibble on her and they’re already sniffing him out?! At least here, his scent would be masked, even if she was in danger. They probably wouldn’t harm her, though. If they did…

… what would he do if they did? Did he have to leave? He couldn’t bear to look at a Seraph, let alone a Repenter. He hugged his knees, his Scout disguise fading, then his Demonic form, only the swirling chaos that was his broken soul remaining, horns made of darkness weeping blood almost as much as his own golden eyes, staining the dry leaves with his unholy nature as much as the rain soaked the soil beneath.

In Tristana’s case, she was dealing with it pretty damn well. She had bought a coat for this kind of occasion, too. A nice, hefty Pilot jacket to keep the chills away from spending so much damn time near a constant heat source. Puffy sleeves, army green and neck fluff that reminded her so much of Teemo. Ah, that sly little devil. Were they a couple now? She wanted to say yes, but he wasn’t here to answer that question… and he’d probably say no, right? Demons and stuff, probably not to keen on the whole love thing, despite what Lulu said. Shame… he seemed like such a cool guy, too.

The air around suddenly got a lot colder, however, and despite the dark grey skies, it looked like the sun had just come out. And with it, a knock on her door? Did Lulu come to ask for something? There was the impression that everything around her got so much lighter and… no, that was too weird to be true. Probably just a side effect from spending a couple of weeks with a demon, right? Yeah.

As she opened the door, the word “What the…” escaped her lips before she could even think of repeating them.

Clad in silver armor fit for the royal knights of a King, hair bound in an odd braid that resembled a crown, somehow. Intricately weaved and radiating with light. Merely looking at her was enough to send shivers down Tristana’s spine… and those eyes! Piercing so deeply into her own that it felt like getting stabbed, not that the fact they glowed helped. That would have thrown her off, but maybe the time with Teemo had desensitized her to beings with unnaturally glowing irises. The oddest thing was, in fact, the massive Hammer shaft that seemed to expand behind her, the sides of this ungodly large tool actually thicker than her entire body. A soldier or something? What, was she gonna get conscripted into another kind of service?

“…can I–”

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who revels in sin and debauchery!” Poppy said, bowing with the grace of a noble despite the immense weight that must have been put onto her. “I have come to thee with an opportunity one of your kind will not be able to refuse. I am Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer of Souls. And you, Tristana, though your womb has been deeply tainted and even your flesh writhes with the marks of that which we can not–”

“Yeah yeah, I see where this is going. Redeeming?”

“…If you may, Tristana of Bandle City. Please do not cut me off.” The angelic nature seemed to dissipate, and what was left was a Yordle. A very strong, tall, majestic yordle to be sure! But still a Yordle. It actually made Tristana sigh in relief… somehow that just seemed better. “I’m serious here. You are in a lot of trouble. I am willing to help you!”

“Thanks! All the help I want is you to find my demon boy and get him back here once he’s done with his business to pound me senseless again! Can you do that?” The Gunner asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, raising an eyebrow. Poppy looked more confused than anything, eyes wide in pure amazement.

“…Sorry, ye are to tell me, Angel of good faith and will, that you would rather rot in the boiling pits of tar deep inside Hell than accept the good hand of your saviors?”

“As long as I have that Devil with me on the pool? Man, I’d call that a party.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Look, I appreciate the fact you guys think I’m important enough to be saved! But I just don’t really… care, you know? Wait. Maybe I care a little.” The Gunner looked over her shoulder, before leaning in close. The Angel smiled, leaning forward to hear what she had to beg for. Gold? Their sweet ambrosia? Wings? Heaven had it all.

“Can I bring my demon boy with me up there? Like, can y–”

“What KIND OF HERETIC DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?” Poppy recoiled in pure disgust, eyes shining with Angelic fury, but after blinking, it quickly dissipated. “I… am sorry for that outburst. Angels fall. Angels are Broken. And thus, they are no longer Angels… and never again will be. Ye mortals are different, though. Tristana of Bandle cit–”

“Nah, then I think I’m pretty good.” Tristana did a hang loose motion towards Poppy, and closed the door on her face, going to the Kitchen to get some coffee. A few weeks ago, this visit would be enough to have her clinging to Lulu and begging for advice… now? Well, once you see your own soul and that of your boyfriend-to-be-maybe a few dozen times? You get used to weird stuff.

The Redeemer was left completely speechless in the door, however. What… had just happened? Did a Mortal not only have the audacity to speak over her, to close the door on her face but also to deny eternal salvation in exchange for morbid acts of pleasure?! Even the most rugged soldier on the cleanest of battlefields would accept her blessings and pass away in bliss, to accept their place in Heaven! THIS?!

Oh, this would not stand.

But she couldn’t keep annoying her. No, she knew how Humans worked… more or less. Tristana was a soldier, right? Soldiers defiled their sacred bodies on places full of alcohol. Bars, was it? Maybe if Poppy could just convert one or two people there… make the soil so clean no weeds could grow. Yes.

“I will return, fret not, Immortal soul of this confused sinner!” Poppy said, flying away in a mist of light before she could hear a very loud and angry gunner yelling “FUCK OOOOOFF.”

And on the Pub that the Sinner enjoyed spending her time on before meeting her Demon, a Knightess of Silver and Light stepped through the front door… yet sadly, when it was such a miserable day and so early in the morning, not many people other than the poor miserable sods that came to drown their sorrows in beer were present. Amongst them, the only idiot dumb enough to get interested at the creature exhaling power from every inch of her body.

“Do not be afraid, ye sinners broke of mind and soul!” She spoke, and just as the bartender was about to complain about the Knightess raising her voice, a large pouch of gold which wasn’t there a moment ago dropped on his counter. “Please. Ye must offer me those sinful drinks so I may cleanse them. Uh.. ‘beer’. Give me all the beer.”

The Yordle behind the counter gladly filled a couple of glasses full and pushed them to the corner of the counter, keeping her as far away from the drunk patrons as possible, ignoring her as best as he could while she chanted prayers.

Slowly she touched the glasses after every solemn hymn, caressing them in symbols alien to anyone present. The bizarre way she broke in, announcing her arrival, now 'blessing’ cups? The idiot cleaned his shirt and shorts as best as he could, caressed his mohawk and walked right up to the woman, despite every single piece of his mind screaming at him to keep away from her out of some kind of sheer, primal fear.

“Hey.” Rumble purred, eyeing her up and down, while the Angel simply ignored him. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?”

“…I didn’t fall?” She spoke, turning around to face him now… or well, having to look down since their height disparity was at least two feet in difference, eyes so piercing he’d have guessed she could look through him. “I descended here as gracefully as the leaf of a tree.”

“Well, I gotta say I haven’t met a single flower as beautiful as this catch here.” He smirked, confident as ever despite the fact she could probably kill him with a punch. Maybe that’s what made him so confident.

“Indeed, Heaven’s beauty is unmatched by all sinful growth that spurs from the soil beneath.”

“Baby I can say you ain’t from below because you glow like sunshine.” At that specific comment, Poppy seemed to blush, looking at the walls around her before giving Rumble yet another confused look.

“Am I glowing?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. Well wasn’t she dumb. Seemed like he finally got a woman to match him! “Nah dear, but you’re adorable. What’s your name?”

“I am nothing but Heaven’s beauty. My name is Poppy, Keeper of Light and Redeemer. Do not try to make my soul swell with pride, for I am not one to be blinded by my own self.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t worry about that! I’m pretty sure I can love you enough to make up for that.” He climbed up one of the stools, leaning against the counter. “So do tell… you free tonight?”

“Unless you are to help me with my quest, I do not think we will talk much, Yordle.”

“Uh-huh. Well I think if you keep blessing glasses of beer, we’re going to run into each other quite a bit. Call me Rumble, by the way… I think you’re gonna be screaming that name sooner rather than later.”

“Rumble. Do tell me, Rumble. Do you know the Sinner that goes by the name of Tristana? A woman truly neck deep in the woeful needs of your bodies.”

“Uh… Tristy? Yeah, she’s pretty dope.” Poppy smiled, leaning in closer. “Why do you want to know…?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I seek to Redeem her, oh Yordle. That man she sleeps with is not one of light like you.” The comment got a chuckle out of Rumble, but she continued. “He is a being far, far worse. You must help me get Tristana back to the light. Will you be able to do that?”

“Yeah, I guess I can think up something.” He rolled his eyes, but the Angel’s eyes went wide with glee.

“You will be rewarded one day, oh Rumble of Bandle City. I will leave these with you, and may this show I am willing to compromise with those that look for the greater good.” Poppy got up and walked through the door, leaving Rumble with quite a few rounds of beer and another magic sack of coins. Not that the little Mechanic was complaining but wasn’t that a weird experience.

While Poppy was left to scheme a plan to bring Tristana back into the fold, Rumble finished as many beers as he could before moving to Ziggs and Heimer’s workshop, left scratching his head as he hoped to get some advice with how to deal with that weird girl. Truth be told, he was pretty fascinated with how beautiful and quirky she was. Covered in armor, giving away beer for free, and a bunch of gold?! She also did claim she was an angel. Fuck, was she one? It did feel weird when he spoke to her. But that was just because she was pretty, right?

Eh, or something like that.

The building that Ziggs had rented for his stay in Bandle was an old garage for planes, repurposed for some sort of massive project he had in mind, almost completely refurbished for a more scientific aesthetic. There were barracks inside for all the helping hands, and Rumble would honestly not be surprised to find a goddamn restaurant and disco in there too. Knowing Ziggs, if he had the budget, he’d probably put in both.

Rumble walked in without even knocking, staring at Ziggs and… yikes, Heim. The Scientist was hunched over a table with schematics on top, while Ziggs walked around the room. They were in a heated argument, something about reflux control? Hextech stuff, probably… not his field.

“…Ah. You didn’t tell me we’d have visitors, Ziggs.” Heimerdinger spoke, using his head to show the other where Rumble was. “Then I think we are done for now. But heed what I told you! It WILL be unpredictable!” The Scientist spoke, storming away past Rumble, leaving most of his tools behind.

“Jackass of little faith…” Ziggs grumbled, lifting up his glasses and smiling. Without the lenses making it look like he had eyes the size of celestial bodies, he really looked less insane! Even if his ideas were downright frightening at times, because of how ambitious they were or how destructive. Sometimes, both.

“Bad day?” The Runt asked, slowly walking forward. “Because I just had the WILDEST thing happen…”

“No, I’m just… fuck, you make TRISTY and that idiot can’t realize we can do something just like it except, and I’m sorry but it’s true, it’d be better.”

“No offense taken, except for the fact I’m not included here.”

“The climate is already pretty damn rough as it is, having another 'Bandle Boy’ here would probably have him tear up that shitty hair of his. But hey, you didn’t come here to hear me shit talk Heim. So, what is it?”

“Yeah, I came to shit talk Heim myself.” Ziggs managed to somewhat dull his laugh, making it sound more like a seal coughing than a chuckle, while Rumble laughed with glee. “Nah, Nah… alright, so. There was this girl who burst into the bar like a damn Queen who owned the place. She is SUUUPER fucking cute. Like, think Trist? Ok, now a little cuter.”

“Wow, you’d throw down with someone if they ever said it. Teemo really broke you in that bad?”

“I still don’t like that guy… but fuck man, Trist’s happy, you know? I… yeah, look, back to the girl at hand. Like, dude. She’s ENORMOUS. And rich? Like man. Man! Oh yeah, she also talked about being an angel because I don’t know, I guess she’s off in the head? I’m pre–”

“Yo. No, you can’t just drop that bombshell and call her mad! Ok, you said she…” Ziggs went silent, counting on his fingers and mumbling silent words, looking up at the ceiling in a thoughtful state.

After a while, he finally shook his head and flailed his arms, as if he was able to literally push his thoughts away. He landed both of his hands on Rumble’s shoulders, clasping tightly. Uncomfortably tightly.“Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Rumble. Do you believe her?”

“…should I?”

“Tell me?”

“Not… really. You do?”

“Ok, what was the first, THE FIRST thing she said as she came in. You said like a Queen. What did she say?”

“Uh.. something like 'fear not’? 'Do not despair’? A little bit of column A, lil’ bit of column B maybe? Uhhh…”

“Do not be afraid?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Wait how did you–”

Ziggs shook Rumble roughly, staring him straight in the eyes. “DUDE WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER.”

“Chill man! I just… like, hit on her a little. Then she gave me a bunch of beer and a pouch of gold? I also said I’d help her do… uh, something with Trist? She spoke about uh… redeeming, light… she also called Teemo like, 'not of light’. It was wild.”

“WHAT THE FUCK. Ok ok ok, sit the fuck down, we gotta have a talk.”

Ziggs picked a chair and pushed it towards Rumble, sitting on the table after pushing a few bolts and nails away from it. “Ok, so. Don’t fucking open that trap because this is gonna be a bumpy ride and you’ll want to joke and call bullshit and I swear I’ll throw a wrench at you if you even think about it. In fact just for good measure… nah, nah I’m joking. But look.”

Breathing in deeply, trying to find a way to explain it to Rumble without looking like a goddamn fool. Ah, fuck it. He may as well just go all out. “That girl you met is an Angel, Teemo is probably some kind of Demon, Tristana is possibly in danger and you’ve just gotten yourself a one-way ticket to hell. Ok, now I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP. I WILL THROW THIS WRENCH AT YOU. Done? Alright. Sit tight.”

“Look you know when we were building Megakritz and a bar of metal hit me straight in the neck and I didn’t respond for two days before just walking it off? I kind of died. Seriously why didn’t you check my… ah, water under the bridge. Anyway, I couldn’t get into Heaven but I spent some time at the gates talking to some angels. They’re kind of stuck up but they LOVE saying 'Do not be afraid’ to anyone that passes by. It gets annoying after a while. Ok so Heaven didn’t want me, Hell didn’t want me either because my sins were basically like stealing a few candies and mild violence. But I’m not exactly prime Limbo material nor am I that much of a dick to need Purgatory. They just didn’t know what to do… so they just kind of threw me back into life. Dude, my neck was shattered! It was insane looking at it! Also apparently I’m a cat deep down. So if you ever see a brown cat with green eyes do throw me a pack of catnip, and know dead me will appreciate it.”

Rumble leaned back on his chair, running his hand through his mohawk, the other resting lazily on his thigh. “So you died.”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m doomed.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fuck me.” He sighed, before laughing. “Yeah, holy shit what the fuck! So great. I spoiled my chance for eternal salvation because I wanted to be with a cute girl. Yeah, that’s fine. What the fuck. What the fuuuuuck…” He slumped on his chair, resting both of his hands over his face, before jumping out of it with a speed that honestly frightened Ziggs.

“TRIST. TRISTANA. Look the, the angel girl, she spoke about Trist and Teemo. You said something about danger, right? Ok, so, uh, is there anything I can do to help her? I don’t… Trist is happy. She deserves to be happy, so please, can’t you just, I don’t know, blow her up back to heaven?”

“Y'ain’t going back to heaven after getting blown by a guy if you get my drill.” Ziggs giggled, waving a hand with no fucks to give. “Look, she’s a Redeemer. I met two of these back in my dead days. Dude, time worked weird there. They never harmed anyone? They’re just stubborn as shit and really mouthy. If you want to help Trist just… I don’t know, make her go away.”

“I can do that. I’m pretty good at making women run…” Rumble sighs, putting up a half-hearted smile.

“Don’t put yourself down, dude. Go out there. I dunno, ask Trist about it all? I’d say go look for Lulu but fuck is she kind of weird and I don’t like Veigar. But hey, you want to try your luck…”

“I’m going with Trist. Thanks.” As he got up and was ready to leave, he noticed what was a soft rain before became a full-blown storm, scratching his head at the open garage door, finally realizing that’s where the cool breeze was coming from! He… wouldn’t make it to the junkyard in these conditions.

“Uh… you got a spare room?” Rumble turned around, as Ziggs got out of the table and nodded towards some small shacks, probably used to keep supplies back in the more military focused days of this garage, now repurposed as living spaces.

It was… rather cramped inside them, but there were warm blankets and a pretty damn comfy bed. More than what Rumble could lay claim to. After a quick before bedtime conversation with his friend, Rumble laid down, sighing as he stared at the dull iron ceiling.

“I really fucked this one up.”

And quietly he slept, as sounds of raindrops hitting the ceiling of the large building echoed even inside the shack, leading to a rather pleasant setting to sleep in.

Morning came.

The rain had stopped some hours ago, and Ziggs’ noises were the thing that woke up the overworked mechanic. Slumping out of bed shaking from the cold air, feeling even colder due to just having left the warm, comfy blankets. Seems like his old friend was getting ready for a new day, and judging by the teapot he had, ready for Heim to visit again.

“Ziggs?” Rumble spoke softly, walking closer, even his fuzzy body unable to keep the cold away. “Uh… thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry. You need a…?” Ziggs pointed at his own uniform, smiling. It had sleeves. Man, Rumble fucking wishes he had sleeves!

“Nah… Nah, I’m good, I’ll, I can handle this. I’m going to see Trist. Good luck with that project, dude!” Ziggs left Rumble with a hug, letting the mechanic go in his own personal quest.

Despite the skies slowly getting bluer as he walked, the cold wave didn’t stop, and every accidental step into a puddle sent him in a fit of cursing. By the time he got into Tristana’s house, be it from being a nervous wreck or due to simply being clumsy, he was soaked from the ankles below.

Knocking on the door, a loud groan could be heard from the inside, Tristana very begrudgingly opened the door, already looking pissed…

… before realizing it was Rumble!

“BUMBLE!” Tristana hugged him, a tight embrace that sent shivers down his spine and made his cheeks flare up, thankfully the fur did a mostly good job at covering it up.

“Uh.. h-hey, Trist. Yeah, can we… go in?”

“Yeah? Take a seat. Oh, dude, I just had the worst frickin’ d… uh… no, y'know what, I shouldn’t bother you with those things.”

“You met an angel,” Rumble spoke softly, going towards her couch and sitting down, hunched over himself with his arms resting on his lap. “I… met her.”

“Ah, fuck.” Trist sighed, walking over to him and sitting beside him, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. “What did she say? Did she.. uh… just, what did she say?”

“That Teemo is a dick and I’m to help her purge you. B-but like! I… I don’t know, I think I might have an idea? Maybe? I’m…. am I a good guy?”

“Bumble. You are the sweetest and softest guy I know.”

“Trist… really. Don’t, not as a friend. Just tell me. Pure and raw. Even if it hurts.”

“Oh.” She left out a chuckle, quickly catching herself in the act and going silent. Not a good time to think about dirty jokes. “Well… you… are kind of obsessive. I don’t need to remind you about TRISTY… even if it’s really sweet you named a robot after me! But uh. You also drink way too much for your own good… you cheat way too much too. Both ways. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

“So am I going to heaven or hell?”

Tristana smiled a terribly fake smile, hoping he wouldn’t have asked that. “… painfully honest again?”

“You don’t need to tell me. Ok so, what is the Angel here for? Redeeming someone, right? Maybe if I just give my own soul, because I guess I have one now, to her… maybe she’ll leave you and your boy alone?”

“Nonononono! Rumble what the fuck! What the fuck! What if that pisses her off? Or what if I lose you, and then she comes back for me? I, look, I know a girl, she–”

“Trist. Please. Ok then how about this… I’ll… I’ll try distracting her until you come up with a better plan. That’s what I’m gonna do, ok?”

“Rumble.”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“You haven’t known what you were doing since you were like five, you’re gonna die and I’m gonna lose a great friend… just… can’t you follow me? Real quick?”

“Trist. Just this time?”

“… if you actually make me have to go to heaven drag your ass back here you better believe I will and I won’t stop talking about it.”

“Fine, fine. It’s going to be fine. Got it?”

“Got it. So… you… want something?”

“I’ll just… I dunno, I guess we wait for the Angel? Yeah…” Rumble nodded to reaffirm his own statement, Tristana softly tapping his back for comfort before getting up and back to cleaning her home.

When the dreaded knocking finally came, Rumble was the first to get up, while Trist just placed her broom away, sitting on the couch and expectantly watching their conversation.

“DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE OF LITTLE FAITH! I ha– wait, you are Rumble.”

“Indeed I am! And I have an offer you can’t deny me.” He smiled a coy smile, confident as ever.

“I am not one to barg–”

“My soul for the Heavens.”

“I am listening.”

“Look, if you just… leave the girl alone, alright? Take me. Try to repent me or something. Then maybe, much later you can come back to her. How about that? Deal?”

“Well! I see you are a good friend and eager to repent. I do think the process will be quick for thee, e'en if your friend still suffers the influence of devils.”

“Good! Alright! Well, I am eager to go to heaven then.”

Poppy grabbed both of his hands and slowly ran her thumbs over his palms, making the sign of seven circles on them before crossing it with a line. Two circles of his right had flared up, while on his left, all seven flared up in a bloodlike color.

“Oh.”

Wide-eyed she stared down at his palms, while Rumble looked mostly confused and somewhat frightened.

“Well it seems you are quite the sinner. Your soul might appease the Council once it is done repenting… but it will not protect her forever. I will come back.”

“Great! Well then you need to repent me. Let’s hope it’s quick.”

“Do not lie to my face.”

“… oh, you can actually… oh shit.”

“No swearing! I- ugh. Lead me to the house which you reside in, Rumble of Bandle City.” She went back to being as stoic as one could be, hands perfectly placed on her thighs, back straight as a soldier waiting for orders.

And of course, Rumble just kind of shuffled around the giant Yordle, walking to his house and still letting out enraged curses with every puddle he accidentally stepped on, even with Poppy reprimanding him with every word.

Their treck was long, and through the dirt roads just in front of Veilu’s forests, where the sound of crying echoed through the leaves softly hit them, so soft one would be forgiven for thinking they were going slightly mad. Neither of them had time to deal with the ghostly whimpers, and so their journey wasn’t interrupted… although, after a while, Poppy just decided to give the Mechanic her own battle boots, levitating to stop the puddles of cold mud from splashing her feet, and worse, her Armor! Now that would be a disaster.

He just kind of stomped forward however, boots making clear tracks in the mud with how hard he stepped, making his way up a hill wich finally started to show signs of leading somewhere. Even if those signs were literal piles of metallic trash along the road.

“Alright alright alright…” He rubbed his hands together, gracefully opening his arms and letting Poppy take in the absolute horror that was the junkyard. Heaps of twisted and broken scrap molded together in abominable creations, TRISTY being the rotting cherry on top of the cake of steamy garbage, and despite the Council not employing machinations such as these, it was easy to recognize the mace attached to her, and… tubes? Ballistae mounted on this armor? What a horrifying prospect!

“Rumble. You can not be really living in this situation. This is… unacceptable.”

“Nah, it’s pretty acceptable, actually. I got a nice bed… I got food… sometimes… it’s dope. C'mon. Get in.” He took the lead, kicking open the already rusty and bent gates, strolling through the rusty mood with no cares to give to the world. Letting the beautifully crafted golden details of the ivory and marble boots, made durable and comfy by holy magic, get covered in the filth on the ground.

Floating right behind, now even further away from the ground to the point her wings had almost become material due to the strain of this mortal form, a cloud of golden and cyan following her just behind, shaping up to something barely resembling wings. “This is a travesty. You need a better place to live in! Look at these beasts of rust you made with your very hands, there is much of light you can do instead, yet you pick to make these wretched forms?!”

“Yeah? It’s fun. Besides, there’s already way too many people doing good stuff… I don’t… I don’t, I, It’s not my job to be good. And no one’s gonna pay me as much as I want to be paid. Might as well do what I want, right? It isn’t like I’m actively hurting anyone!”

“Lack of action is a sin.” She huffed, flying over to his Mech, standing over it like a lit beacon. A sun, illuminating this sinful totem of envy and lust. “This whole place… sinful.”

“It sure as hell is. I like it this way though. I mean.. no one comes bother me. I don’t hurt anyone. It’s fine. It’s a good place.”

“It harms yourself.”

“So?”

“So… stop?”

“It’s fun. What am I to do instead?” He crossed his arms, leaning against a rusty, still wet barrel, hearing a rat squirm inside and run away.

“…Filth.” She hissed, even higher now, a good few feet in the air from him. “You live in a den of filth, surrounded by all that is sinful and harmful, you who have become so lazy as to accept this as common! You who works not for the good of others, but for personal gain! YOU! YOU WHO HAVE LOST ALL SENSE OF SELF! You… are now mine to Redeem.”

“Cool.” He nodded, unsure whether to be absolutely horrified or cry and accept it. Instead he simply… stood there, nodding. His mind unsure how to process the pure beauty and raw power in front of him. On top of him. Her greatness was… surrounding him.

“Then we will begin. Inside we go… we shall leave the Incandescent Sun to dry this land of disease. We will clean it later. Now for your organization.” The Angel spoke, allowing Rumble to guide her into the run-down warehouse, now repurposed to be a workshop.

The roof, large as it was, almost completely riddled with holes. The walls barely holding up together, clearly fixed up over and over again to keep the place from falling down. In a distant corner, almost covered up by piles of trash, was what seemed like a bunch of cloth was actually revealed to be his personal abode, surrounded by heaps of garbage. There was almost a method to his confusing totems of filth, horrible skull-like symbols built on the sides of barely recognizable cubes and triangles.

Walking through those piles, Poppy groaned out loud in pure disgust, while Rumble simply kicked away some spent bottles, a surprising ammount for a single Yordle. “And welcome home, my friend.” He spoke proudly, showing off his cushion laying on the cold concrete ground, a pillow and a surprisingly clean and comfy looking blanket. Ignoring the bottles and bottles of beer coupled with the bizarre mangled scrap, it was… no, it still looked like a hobo had set up shop there.

“This is nothing but filth.”

“Ok I can admit I should throw out the glass stuff bu–”

“No, this all. This is a monument of corruption, the very existance of such place exists only to seep its dark roots deep in the dank soil and poison all around, the water below, the roots, the trees, the leaves. This place is a piece of the Dark Place in this very Earth, and you help mantain it. I can’t believe it…”

“I… what the fuck?” He as stumped. Really? He picked up one of the metalic rectangles, about the size of his torso, wich Poppy simply stared at unimpressed.

Then, he pressed a button on one of its sides.

Te rectangle opened up, a loud scraping sound as the rusty metal struggled to lift a plataform holding various precious little trinkets, assorted odds and baubles with no real value or interest, and generally just really tiny, pretty things. Under it soon was revealed another plataform, though this one was empty, probably due to the lack of space… or trinkets.

“I repurpose things.”

“I… see?” She finally stopped floating, the angelic energy from her wings floating to her feet, wich turned into sandals fit to grace a true Queen, dust and rust being swept away as if wind was coming from them. “You have made a complicated chest.”

“Well… I was thinking of making it more than just 'a chest’. A chest you can just punch through, or force open. This if made with… less.. trash, and maybe some other kind of lock tather thn 'button’, could be a way safer chest. And because of this..” He poked the cogs that lifted up one of the plataforms, wich almost was poked off due to the stress applied to it. “.. I can make it multiple tiers! I can make it fit way more than a normal chest. And be safer. And guess what? It’s not just because it’s trash that it is bad! In fact, it’s good because of it! It means I haven’t spent other materials to make something that could possibly be a huge waste.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you have made a chest. Congratulations! You still have a junkyard surrounding you! Rust still seeps in the ground, junk still is the place where plague and disease take their roots in!” She hissed, ever unwilling to take a break from chastitizing everyone around her.

“You want me to take Rust away from metal. That’s.. impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.”

“To you, sure, but I can’t fly and I sure as fuck–”

“Ok look I’m going to swat you with arclight every time you say a swear word. Ok?”

“Why? I’m just swearing, I’m not commiting a fuc–” His sentence was cut shot by the sensation of steam burning his cheek, making him recoil and clutch it… before realizing nothing really happened to him.

“Rude. Not even one of the worst burns I got recently, either.” He grumbled, straightening his back and trying to ook a little more imposing. He was still just barely under two feet and a half, while the Angel stood at four feet, even stepping on the ground. Clearly, she didn’t have much of an idea of what a Yordle was before touching down, did she?

And as they bickered and whimpered and Rumble got hit again at least a few times, in the forest, Teemo stirred. His crimson form now a dull grey, horns barely dripping blood. It looked like he was about to collapse.

But instead, he got up, feeling what little of his strenght he had coming up to form his Incubi form. He was not one of Light, not anymore. But whoever this Angel was… they were far away from Tristana. And thankfully, she was stil alive. He could feel her pulse, the mark left on her neck a faint sort of bond between the two.

A quick flight later, and Tristana was being smothered in kisses and nips from her lover, giggling incessantly. “Teemo! Already? Didn’t you… oh, dude. I got to tell you.”

“I already know.”

“Wait, really? Uh, then you’ll be happy to–”

“She left you alone?”

“…I’d like to finish a sentence but yeah, she did. How do you… were you spying me from hell? Wait, were you this woried that you came back? Awwn, that’s adorable! Kind of creepy, I don’t want you staring over me all the time, but still cute!”

“I… long… long story.”

“We have all day.”

“You have. I’ll… I’ll hang around. I might disapear again. Ok?”

“Sure. But uh… are you ok?”

“Huh? I’m always good with you, dear.”

“No, I mean…” Trist got a hold of his neck fur, and pulled. His fur felt like straw rather than the soft sea of delight that she had touched a day, maybe two ago… and to both of their surprises, a rather fat chunk of fur came out. “… I don’t, I don’t think this is OK.”

“I’ll handle it later.” He kissed her, but now that the excitement of kissing him again passed, and the worry of his fur too… she wasn’t sweating. Teemo was in the same room as her, and yet she wasn’t dripping water as if she had just come out of a steamy bath on a hot summer day. If anything, she was feeling kind of chilly.

“Yeah. Just don’t… get back safe?” She asked, with a smile.

“I promise I will.”

Teemo kissed her again, not her lips this time, a soft kiss on her forehead, so she would be sure he was saying the truth. And off the door he went, towards the Angel, feeling his own self getting colder with every passing moment. He didn’t enjoy it. At all. Being near his… bretheren. The ones that didn’t fall. And a Redeemer no less…

He stopped just on the hill that led to the Junkyard, overhearing the heated argument of the Angel and the… ah, what was his name? Tristana’s friends. Bumbly idiot, or something. Bruno? Bumo? Eh, not important.

What was important, was the Angel that left the building, holding her Hammer in a stance of pilgrimage. Oh, she was pissed then. And he knew her.

Oh, he knew her.

Rumble followed her just outside, giving up on the chase before it even started, actually. Teemo hid amongst the leaves of the Summoners’ forest, smiling his devilish grin.

He followed her, watching her groan, pray, kick, pray and yell. A good half an hour just watching her judge her choices, ocasionally glancing deeper in the forest. Once she finally sat down on her knees, as if meditating.

“Hey Pigtails.”

“Te… Fallen.”

She had felt him, leaving the safety of the forest and landing right behind her.

“Do not attempt to touch me, Fallen One.”

“The Council doesn’t keep an eye here. We’re literally right beside their woods. Then again… if they did all keep their eyes around the forest, it would explain why they can never get anything done.”

“…Still.” She said, sternly, before adding to it soon after, a lot more softly. “Please no.”

“Then we’ll simply talk.” He sat down aswell, smiling. “Someone got your panties in a twist?”

“I don’t… get it?”

“Who made you mad.”

“You, especially. Look at what you did… what you’re doing! To this city. Oh, absolute vileness. It is… disgusting…” She held her hands together in prayer, tears dropping ever so slowly.

“I didn’t come here myself, you know.” He purred.

“Yet you still came.”

“I did. And so did you. Do you really dislike this place that much? I like the people here. They’re not… they’re not that different from the man that made you you.”

“And not too different from the hellish beasts that crawl in your new Home.”

“Nah. You remember Eve? Now that’s a fall from grace. Eveyone else is kind of alright, though. Save for a few… ugh. Look, I know, I’m not going to turn you into a Warlady or a mere Imp. I was an angel too. I know you… don’t understand these things.”

“I understand all I need to.”

“Uh-huh. Just consider… maybe it isn’t worth it. This fight.”

“Yet I was born to fight.”

“No you…” He sighed. Of course, she was an Angel. Was he realy that stupid, once? Yeah. It sounds likely. Seeing as he was doing the same mistake that made him fall… again.

“Yeah. Yeah you were. Now… just keep in mind that not all wars need to be fought.”

“Yet it is my duty.”

“It sure is.”

“…leave her be, Devil.”

“You know I can’t do that either. And it isn’t because I’m trying to have an easy soul job.”

“Yet you can’t keep your sin away from her. Twisting her.”

“I only do what she asks me to do. Trust me.”

“Disgusting. This whole town. I… leave. Now.” She hissed, the Hammer on her back starting to crackle, light flaring up from the opened slits.

“Very well.” He nods, floating away to Tristana’s house, gleeful as ever.

He was warm.

Fiend.

Looking at the forest, light still blasting from the Hammer, she got up. Light, shiny light. And Darknees… Darkness. In the forest. Where the two of them lived. Not Teemo and Tristana. Those ghoulish spellcasters.

Every step she took made the leaves shake, and the forest was dead quiet. It was hard to feel anything inside that forest except dread, and the certainty of being watched. Every step ever so slow, guiding her towards the heart of the woods, the abandoned manor that housed the Mages. Quiet.

An open door.

She stood in front of, it, and knocked. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, ye who sins and trades with that wich is unholy!” Her voice boomed through the house, and there was… silence.

“…please come out.” She grumbled, knocking on the door. Nothing. Stepping in…

… oh, there they were.

“Rude.” Poppy’s voice was soft, but her composure stern.

“Well you’re in our domain now so no destroying us or our home.” Lulu giggled, sitting on her armchair, While Veigar stood vigil. Leaning forward, tapping her knees with glee and excitement, Lulu smirked. “Came to say hi? Or check if we’re keeping our end of the bargain?”

“I… I do not know what Bargain you speak of, but… I have come to do one myself.”

Veigar’s shadowy veil dropped, while Lulu gasped out of sheer delight. “OH, GOODIE!” Hopping out of her chair, she opened her arms, expecting a hug that didn’t come.

“You have a blight of sinners in this town.”

“Yeah, every town does. Weird, innit?” Lulu waggled her eyebrows, teasing Poppy, knowing she wouldn’t change her mind from this jab.

“And we are cleansing it. But… but these… fiends. That live on Bandle City. You… yordles. You have summoned devils to lay your women, and praise knowledge and metal more than the very Lords and Ladies above. I seek to cleanse… two people.”

“That’s going to be a hefty price, you know? Most Yordles are our friends.” Lulu grumbled, lowering her arms and crossing them, standing on the tip of her toes. Not to try and match Poppy’s height, that was nearly impossible… just to feel a little taller. It made her happy. Something told her she’d need to be happy. “Who are they?”

“Tristana and Rumble of Bandle City.”

This time, even Veigar couldn’t help himself. A croak, raspy and unidentifiable, followed by Lulu’s cheerful and excited laugh. No, she wasn’t happy. She was mocking. Mocking this being of light.

“Why do you want to cleanse them, exactly? Because I don’t know if you know, we helped her summon her boyfiend. Hehehee.. boifiend.” Lulu giggled, looking away.

“Before she loses the process..” Veigar interjected, stepping forward. “… I think she’s trying to say that no matter what price you offer, those are our friends. One of them, at least. Truth be told… Tristana enjoys the Mechanist’s antics. And that is good enough for me to not want to charge for cleansing him. Or doing it, at all. We will stop you of redeeming our dear friend, as for the boy… well, if he will accept it, who are we to say no? Take his soul and be happy you got anything at all.”

“What he said!” Lulu skipped over to him, puffing her cheeks and frowning to show how mad she was. “No touching boifiend and Trist!”

“Very… well.” By the sword of the Justicar… if she could just smash their precious items to dust! But this was not a kind, nor necessary act. Poppy bowed, out of respect for the ways of Heaven than anything else, and got nods from both of them. More than she expected from their kind.

Meanwhile, Rumble tried stuffing all of his bottles in a dumpster. There were… a lot. That was a lot of glass. A lot of things could be done with glass. A lot of money could be earned. And truth be told, he could use new windows in most places.

His task seemed neverending, and as he realized one dumpster would not be enough, he also realized TRISTY’s smasher was going to make more of a mess than salvage it. He needed a big metal slab, to heat up his furnace,  get the casts ready… fucking hell. But the money.

But he could do it later.

Keeping the sacks of collected bottles that didn’t fit on the dumpster just below it, Rumble sat on a throne of rusty metal, made relatively safe to sit in by the addition of an airplane seat and matresses repurposed as steps and armrests. Oh, he felt like a King alright.

Aaand here came the cutie he wished he never met.

Flying over the orange ground, where barely any grass manged to sprout from the rust, Poppy stood face to face with Rumble. Oh, she would not kneel to this self-righteous worm. “What makes you think you deserve a throne?”“

"The fact I built it myself? That’s pretty impressive.”

“Anyone can do that.”

“And no one does. Beside, no one’s really complaining besides you… and you’re not from the Kingdom. Nah I’m just fucking with yo–” Another smack of her Arclight on his cheek, making him growl. “F… hecking stop! I’m not a King, I’m just messing with you. I just like a comfy place where I can feel tall. It just so happens Thrones are great for that! Yikes, don’t you know how to have any fun..?”

“My fun is cleansing sinners. And you… you are every bit of darkness. So I shall cleanse you over and over again, each of the seven ones ill be stripped away. Let us start by sloth. Up! Thy work is not done.”

“You want me to be less lazy? Alright. How about this. I will get my ass out of h– THAT WASN’T A –” Another smack.

“N-not.. a… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You neeed to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“N-not.. as… b-butt… butt with A isn’t even a swear word!”

“No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place.”

“Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do.”

“Clean thy ground. Make it good.” She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Rust included?”

“Clean. This. Mess.” She hissed, squinting at him.

“I… look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can’t see… do you really think it’ll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It’s impossible. It’s too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can’t clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You’re strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?” He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

“You won’t sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash… and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!”

“Yeah, we kinda suck at times… makes for fun toys though.” He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus… drenched. Fuck!

“Poppy?” He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

“Yes, Sinner?”

“I.. do you mind… do you mind giving me some help? A-again?”

“Ye ask a lot from an Angel.” She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. “What is it?”

“I kind of need you to.. uh… lift me up. I know, it’s, kind of dumb.. but… m-my robot, she’s..”

“It.”

“She.”

“It.”

“Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up…”

“Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it’s a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright.”

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. “You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?”

“… maybe.”

“Council guide this one…” She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. “Tell me their name so I may weep for their being.”

“You… sure you wa–”

“Tell me.”

“… T-t… Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It’s cute. I just.. I just find it cute.”

“Ah.” The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the hate from a single follow up word dripped almost to the point of being visible. How..?“Her.”

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. “Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!” He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

“That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her.” Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble’s taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to do any real damage… just be really, really painful. “Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away… maybe you two may be together. Maybe.”

“I d… f… I don’t… fu… ugh.” Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he’d simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were… to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. “You are harmed.”

“No shit.”

A very soft flick on his forehead. “No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and… st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now… sleep.”

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach’ was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was… endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin’ God!

“Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again.” She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

“You started taking pity on me? Cuuute.”

“I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal.”

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened, she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms, and failing.

“Pooooooppy.”

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a fly and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. “Have you healed?”

“Uh… no.”

“Then sleep. Heal.”

“Yeah, I’m not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you… you know what a bandage is, right?”

“No.”

“Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It’ll help me stop… hurt. I’ll just… uh… can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do.”

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of… questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

“Here, here aaand here.” Poppy placed down a comic book, Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic’s magazine. Well… it wasn’t exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

“Ok, just… ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name…”

“Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further.” With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

“Poppy.” He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

“Poppy…”

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure… but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. “DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain… again.”

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

“TRIST! If you came to visit I’m busy with Vei right now! We’ll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!”

“Oh.” Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. “This is… not a huge favor. I simply want… bandages? Bondages? I’m not sure. Something that restricts..”

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn’t invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn’t know and didn’t care. “I guess I’ll take… both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving.”

Even Pix couldn’t help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. “May it serve you as well as these serve me.”

"N-not.. as... b-butt... butt with A isn't even a swear word!"

"No, but it means you are thinking of using one. You need to cleanse your mouth and mind like you will cleanse this place."

"Uh-huh. Just.. tell me what you want me to do."

"Clean thy ground. Make it good." She nodded confidently, while he just stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Rust included?"

"Clean. This. Mess." She hissed, squinting at him.

"I... look, even if I possibly could dig out all the rust, metal, maybe bones and whatever else is stuck where I can't see... do you really think it'll be worth it waiting for me, who has the same bone integrity as a rat with osteoporosis, to even begin power scrubbing this place? Let alone the ground?! It's impossible. It's too hard for me to do, you know it, I know it. So how about this. We can't clean the ground.. but. We can repurpose what is making it suck. And you can help me move large piles of metal fast. You're strong, right? That hammer looks heavy. Sounds pretty good?" He smiled, leaning back into his throne.

"You won't sit there alone. I shall collect you this trash... and I will oversee your renewal of this vileness. Oh, to think you woeful fiends would simply discard this without thought for nature!"

"Yeah, we kinda suck at times... makes for fun toys though." He smiled, going inside to look for the loincloths he placed on Trist when it rained.

Wait, it had been raining pretty hard last night.

Rushing outside, struggling to hold the green, blue and black loins, he sighed as he stared at TRISTY. His magnum opus... drenched. Fuck!

"Poppy?" He whimpered, laying down the loins as clear signs of where the Angel could lay down the scraps she picked up. The Angel was already carrying the Throne with ease, and all the scrapped cars and parts that helped make it a lot bigger than it actually was.

"Yes, Sinner?"

"I.. do you mind... do you mind giving me some help? A-again?"

"Ye ask a lot from an Angel." She gracefully placed the Throne down on the loins, stepping down to him. "What is it?"

"I kind of need you to.. uh... lift me up. I know, it's, kind of dumb.. but... m-my robot, she's.."

"It."

"She."

"It."

"Look, just, help me clean her? I forgot to cover her up..."

"Materials do not have names like people! Stop talking to it like it's a person

"Well, she has a name of someone alright."

Poppy seemed confused and annoyed at his quip. "You have stained the holy name of someone by placing it to a vile piece of discarded metal?"

"... maybe."

"Council guide this one..." She sighed, closing her eyes and clasping her hands in prayer. "Tell me their name so I may weep for their being."

"You... sure you wa--"

"Tell me."

"... T-t... Tristana. Tri- I actually call her Tristy, though. I-It's cute. I just.. I just find it cute."

"Ah." The sound that came from her mouth was soft, almost like a gasp, but the bending of metal was audible. "Her."

One of the circles in his hand started to burn, and he shook it like a madman. "Hey. Hey! HEYHEY! NO! WHY?!" He held his hand, almost crying due to the sheer pain of feeling like his hand was being cooked.

"That is Envy. You still hold feelings for her." Poppy unclasped her hands, and slowly, way too slowly for Rumble's taste, the sensation stopped. Thankfully, it didn't seem to do any real damage... just be really, really painful. "Maybe once both of you are cleansed, and that Fiend is away... maybe you two may be together. Maybe."

"I d... f... I don't... fu... ugh." Rumble was still reeling and decided that instead of trying to reason, he'd simply get to work on TRISTY. His attempts at climbing with just one hand were... to be nice, pathetic. He fell on the ground over and over again, and at some point, seemed to have hit something hard, seeing as he just laid on the ground, face buried in his hands.

The Angel, harsh as she was to repenter, still was compelled by pity. Laying horizontally on the air, completely unphased by it, she spoke. "You are harmed."

"No shit."

A very soft flick on his forehead. "No swears. You are harmed. You shall be laid and healed, while your hand and... st..omach? Heals. I will take care of your Iron monster. For now... sleep."

Despite thinking that he was already used to her antics, having her say his 'stomach' was hurt when he probably just broke a rib was... endearing? Maybe? Man, whatever, it was just a delight to finally be this smarter than someone. He felt like a frickin' God!

"Stop with those vile thoughts or you will burn again." She spoke, picking him up on her arms and slowly guiding him into his little corner inside the warehouse. Another burning sensation, this time a lot weaker.

"You started taking pity on me? Cuuute."

"I can make you puke out the very sin out of your soul so you may stare at it before it pitifully crawls down your maw. So stop speaking. And heal."

She left before saying any other words, feeling her cheeks start glowing with Arclight. Pity. This was Kindness. No more, no less! Worm.

Rumble quietly fell asleep, and Poppy spent the better part of the afternoon and night cleansing TRISTY and piling up scrap for the Mechanic. Keeping whatever looked functional, or small enough that Rumble could have built it, inside the Warehouse alongside the items that were already in.

By the time Rumble awakened she was mostly done, and he was amazed to see the organized wall of his projects all piled up in order of height. He tried standing up, trying to find support in his forearms for it, and failing.

"Pooooooppy."

A loud thump was heard outside, alongside with scrap being destroyed. Probably falling in on itself. Poppy flew to him with the weight of a feather and the velocity of a bullet, being just above him in moments. "Have you healed?"

"Uh... no."

"Then sleep. Heal."

"Yeah, I'm not sleeping this one off dear. Uh.. can you... you know what a bandage is, right?"

"No."

"Ok, can you just, go into the city and ask about this rope-like thing that makes people stop bleeding. It'll help me stop... hurt. I'll just... uh... can you find me a book? I should have something around. Maybe? Just.. something to do."

A quick flight through the junkyard had uncovered quite a few books, although most were of... questionable contents, and too sticky to open up for whatever reason. Did he feel regret and seal them? Most likely!

"Here, here aaand here." Poppy placed down a comic book, the Annals of Ancient Bandle, and a mechanic's magazine. Well... it wasn't exactly a great collection, and truth be told he only had gotten the Annals to laugh at some other word they resembled. It made one of the circles inside his hand sizzle, and the laughing did make his chest hurt even more.

"Ok, just... ah, thanks. Just go and get the bandages. Thanks, Poppy? Porcelain? I forget your name..."

"Poppy. Stay still, Sinner mine. Do not harm yourself further." With a soft bow, she leaped into the air, disappearing through one of the smaller exits soon after.

"Poppy." He grabbed the Annals, slowly leaning back against the cold iron behind him. It kind of hurt. But it was comfier than reading

"Poppy..."

While he started to read, the Angel made her way to the Forest once again. It was almost downright humiliating. She was used to being on the Battlefield. She above all others was there on the time of need for a quick conversion, she even saved Soldiers out of certain death so they would become preachers. So many wounded and dying. She repented them, sure... but healing anything other than the soul was never meant to be her job! And making a fuss on the city market for not knowing something that sounded so common would not do.

Once again she stopped in front of the Manor, walking in more confidently this time. "DO NOT BE AFRAID, YE WHO DEAL WITH SCUM! I have come to bargain... again."

Pix popped up from a dollhouse, pointing at a clear sign on the door that led upstairs.

"TRIST! If you came to visit I'm busy with Vei right now! We'll be back in a few hours! Love, Lulu & Veigar!"

"Oh." Poppy crossed her arms, staring at the imp looking creature. "This is... not a huge favor. I simply want... bandages? Bondages? I'm not sure. Something that restricts.."

Slowly flying over to the door, a confused look on his face, he stuck himself into the keyhole of the door leading upstairs and managed to slide inside. A little bit of time passed wich Poppy spent on her feet, not wanting to sit down on the chairs of these Sinners. She wasn't invited, either. It was just polite. And safe.

Pix appeared soon enough, a roll of bandages under one arm, and a roll of ropes, handcuffs and other kinky gear on the other. How did that fit alongside him on the keyhole? Poppy didn't know and didn't care. "I guess I'll take... both. These might come to use when he is misbehaving."

Even Pix couldn't help but laugh, well, squeak like a toy. Placing them down, he extended his arms, where Poppy placed down a golden medallion, materialized in her hands mere moments ago. "May it serve you as well as these serve me."

Another row of squeaks from Pix as Poppy left, simply ignoring the mocking. The black bandages were a bit wet, and smelled rather funky... but the white ropes were clean. They smelled of alcohol. Huh.

A quick flight back, and soon enough Rumble was shirtless in front of her. He had gotten on reading quite a bit about Bandle, although that only left him with more questions than answers. Poppy didn't care about that, though. What she did care, was how she could finally see just how thin he was.

"Even your fur can not hide this. When did you last eat?"

"... define eating?"

"Chewing things with your mouth and swallowing it."

"Well in that case... uh... two days? I'm still w--"

"Silence." Poppy gently forced him to sit upright, wrapping the bandages around his chest. "I can't allow you to suffer while under my watchful vigil. Unless you wish to partake in fasting?"

"Look, the only reason I don't eat is that it costs money, and I already got little of it as it is."

"Yet you have enough bottles of drink to fill bags."

"... well, priorities ar--"

"Hush, Sinner! T'is clear thee has fallen to the devilish tradition of vices and delusions! Then the damage is not only of body, but of mind as well. Very well. I so woefully regret feeding it now, but from this point, the gold that touches your hand will feed you, the alcohol that touches your lips will be tasteless and harmless, the needs of the flesh will be dimmed. And so it is spoken." She nodded as if all that was a spell, and smiled. "Very well. Are you hungry?"

"I could go for a snack but I also could go for not moving." One of the circles on his hand started to fume, but before the pain could hit, the Angel pointed at the hand. "Hush!"

The fuming stopped.

"...you can just... make it stop?"

"Of course. I placed it."

"So you just... let me break my ribs instead of... like... helping me?!"

"Yes. It taught you an important lesson. Do not disobey Heaven's will."

Burying his hands on his face, he sighed. "Alright. Sure, whatever. You want me to eat, right? Can't you carry me or something?"

"Gladly. I will not let you die while your soul still lives stained and crooked." Picking the Mechanic up like a dead body, carefully letting him rest on her arms as they flew, not nearly as fast as before. After all, even a nudge could make Rumble whimper in pain.

Once the city was finally in view, the wings dematerialized, and they both were finally able to land. Placing Rumble down very carefully and giving him an arm to hold for support as they walked towards the bar. In hushed whispers, she kept asking him about if it hurt, how much, and how to help him... most questions were answered with a pained shrug, followed by a groan of pain as he realized what awful idea that was.

As they got inside the bar, surprisingly warm for the season, Poppy made sure to sit him down as soon as possible. While Rumble fanned himself, Poppy sat and waited for the waitress to pass, by, tapping her fingers on the table expectantly.

She saw him.

She knew he saw her.

He had spotted her a long time ago, as soon as she moved towards Bandle, actually. Tristana, still quite deaf to these higher beings despite spending so much time with Teemo, tugged on his fur. "C'mon. Let's go home It's b.. been? Hon?"

To her, and Poppy's surprise, Teemo walked up to the Angel's table. Confused, Tristana followed along, sitting down near Poppy to make sure Teemo could not touch her.

The whole bar had stopped talking again as if the hostility between the two Holy beings was choking them up. Slowly, table by table, they left, unable to explain why they felt so frightened. Teemo smiled, careful not to show his teeth, the other three in the table simply waited for him to speak whatever he had in mind. Rumble being ever so careful to not touch him, not wanting to get cooked.

Coins clinked for the last time, and finally everyone except the four and the bartender had left. Even the waiters took the opportunity to hide in the back. The anticipation killing everyone as if a bomb was about to explode, and none of them knew exactly when. Just that soon it'd happen.

His tongue clicked.

"So."

"So." Poppy followed, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"You know." He rested his arms on the table, back arched as if he was going to pounce at her, any second now...

"I do not, Demon."

"You seem to have taken a liking to that boy." He nodded over to Rumble, who was now having to swipe away the fur falling on his eyes, dripping with sweat. "Gave up on her?" He smiled fully now, needle-like teeth showing.

"I will take her from you and leave you to dust, Worm. He is simply yet another soul I may save."

"Y'know that's how I started." He glanced at Trist, his eyes barely open, just enough to let their yellow light and cat-like slits show. "Sorry, I forgot you don't use that term on Heaven. I mean, that's how I f--"

"I know what it means, Fallen one." She hissed, the pure and radiant light clashing with the fiery gaze, lights dancing with each other while Rumble and Trist tried not to pay too much attention to what was going on.

"He's still wearing your boots."

Her cheeks swelled with arclight, eyes dimming down as her heavenly blush took hold. Soon enough, Rumble was left with his feet free. "Hey, I kind of du--"

"Shut up, Sinner." Poppy was even more agressive this time, not even bothering to turn to face him. "I have come to feed this wretch what his vices had been taking from him. What are you to do here? Sin? Laugh on my face? Try and pull him even deeper down the chain of vices that control him?"

"Second option, mixed in with a bit of the first... I mean, have you had the beef these guys serve here? Oh, it's absolutely delightful. You just can't have one piece. Or three. As for the sinning.."

Sweating out of sheer stress, Tristana finally spoke up. "Dear I don't think--"

"We sin alright."

"Then go. Enjoy your time. You lost her once. You'll lose her again."

"Or you will fall. Dear? You heard the angel." He purred, blowing a kiss to Poppy that dripped with sarcasm as he got up and left, Tristana following soon after.

They could be heard screaming in the distance at each other, along with a spine-chilling laughter from the Devil.

"D-do... shou.. should I ask..?"

"Silence."