#the first time Fizz won mamm's conteest

[caspira-writes-fanfiction]

Finding Family (Fizz's Found Family) -Chapter 5

What Winning Feels Like

Waking up in a palace was disorienting every single time. Fizzarolli woke up feeling rested and comfortable. He wasn’t wrapped up in a blanket destroyed by moths, the walls weren’t damp and there was no whistle of the wind screaming as it forced its way in through the drafty windows. Things were quiet, they were warm, they were soft. It felt more like waking up in a dream than it actually did waking up. If it wasn’t for his pill box, apple, and glass of water sitting on the nightstand next to him, Fizzarolli might have actually thought it was a dream.

The note that sat beside his medicinal breakfast reminded him that it wasn’t.

Itemized Bill: Clown Pageant Day Pay to the order of: Asmodeus, King of Lust, 5th Ring of Hell

Accommodations, 1 night………………..One breakfast, please visit kitchen Medication management………………….……….…..Take all medications Wardrobe…………..…..OT warm-ups, 2 minutes juggling, balance practice Transportation……………………………………..Drink one glass of water Late Night Service Fee….…….……………………..….……………..Bathe

It was Pageant Day. Fizzarolli didn’t know what he wanted to do more: dance or throw up.

The itemized bill for his morning was helpful in identifying where to start, though. Fizzarolli took a bite of his apple and sat up. Across from his bed sat a large armoire with a costume draped over it. It was beautiful. Magenta and purple, with bright accents throughout. There was even a new hat with a multi-colored heart sensor pinned to it and jingles twice the size of any he had in a long time. It was beautiful, Fizzarolli wondered when Asmodeus had it made or how he had known so perfectly what Fizzarolli had been dreaming of wearing for the show. He’d never shown Asmodeus sketches of his ideas, he’d only ever given vague wisps of detail when Asmodeus asked what he wanted the day to be like. Fizzarolli hadn’t even known this was quite what he wanted, but staring at the costume in front of him…..it was perfect.

That was motivation enough to take his pills, finish the glass of water, and get ready for the morning. The bathroom suite attached to the guest room was just as large and luxurious as the guest room was, and just as appropriately sized. Fizzarolli idly wondered if Asmodeus had guest rooms of all different sizes to accommodate different guests or if his guest rooms were some sort of Lust magic that just knew what sort of space their guests needed to squeeze into.

The bath was one to remember, too. It was deep enough that he could sink down to his chin without his toes popping out the other side. Asmodeus had a wide variety of supplies left out along the tub for guests to use as well. Various oils and salves piqued Fizzarolli’s interest for a long while, until all of the dead skin on his body had been scrubbed off with a sugar scrub and his body had soaked in the fine smelling oils until the water ran cold.

The complimentary robe waiting for Fizz as he got out of his bath was plush and warm. It felt like going back to sleep, but Fizzarolli was far too awake to do that now. He found a new set of Mammon’s branded Clown Cake along with an assortment of skin care and horn care products on the vanity in the bathroom suite. Did Asmodeus go through this much trouble with all of his guests? Or just the ones he’s already put thousands of dollars into? Fizzarolli allowed himself to push that thought away as he allowed himself to play with his goodies and get his face ready for the day.

When Fizzarolli walked into the kitchen over an hour and a half after he woke up. Asmodeus was there, sipping on his coffee and reading the newspaper. Fizz’s face was painted in complimentary colors to the outfit hanging from his wardrobe, a bit of glitter kissing his cheeks just for fun. He was wearing the new hat, finding extra reason to put bounce in his step as he listened to the deep jingles fastened at the ends. He hadn’t put his costume on just yet, however. He still had warm-ups to do and breakfast to eat. Today had to be perfect, he wasn’t going to ruin the new costume by being too impatient to change later. Instead he was in his dance shorts again and an oversized LooLoo Land shirt with the neck cut out so it draped off his shoulders. Asmodeus set down his newspaper.

“Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.” Fizzarolli stuck his tongue out, focused, and sprang up onto one of the bar stools. He then climbed up onto the table and sat opposite King Ozzie. “I got your bill. I’ve payed off transportation, med management, and the late night service fee. I’m here to see if I can work off my accommodations for the night?” Fizzarolli handed over the piece of paper, where the tasks he’d completed had already been magically crossed out.

“Well it looks like you have. Good work.” Asmodeus couldn’t help but appreciate the way Fizzarolli smiled back at him. Asmodeus found part of himself hoping that he’d get to see it more to come. Whatever happened today, he’d liked having his little jester around. He hoped after this contest was over he would continue to have the opportunity. “How are you feeling today?”

“Pretty” Fizzarolli answered as his face absently went to his cheek as if to check that his face paint was still there. “I know I’ve said it before, Oz. But that bed is the most comfortable thing on this planet. The whole guest suite is wonderful.”

Asmodeus’s content hum keeps Fizz’s mind focused on the present.

“How’s your pain?” Asmodeus knew Fizzarolli was one to under report how he was doing, so he was being direct today. Today way the day, whatever he could do to help Fizzarolli prepare, he was prepared to do. That included making sure he wasn’t hurting unnecessarily.

“It’s fine right now. The bath was really helpful with some early morning tension, and I had a muscle relaxer in my morning cocktail. As loose as can be.” Fizzarolli stuck his tongue out at Asmodeus as the king stood and headed towards his refrigerator.

“That’s good to hear. What are you hungry for?”

“Coffee” Fizzarolli croaked, making Asmodeus chuckle and nearly hit his head on one of the refrigerator shelves.

“That’s not a food, Fizzarolli.” Fizzarolli shrugged as he stood on the table and walked over to Ozzie’s fruit bowl. He found two pomegranates, and orange, and an apple and began practicing his juggling. It was difficult with fruit this large and non-uniform, but with concentration he was managing surprisingly well.

“Surprise me. I’m not picky.”

_____________________________________________________

Asmodeus and Fizzarolli rode together on the way to the pageant. Fizzarolli had since changed into his new costume and was playing absently with one of the jingles as the car drove the two of them down to Greed for Mammon’s annual Clown Pageant. Asmodeus had been invited to this pageant too. While not allowed to advertise the work he’d done for Fizzarolli, it was well known that they’d struck an agreement to get here and it was expected that he’d be there to see what his work had accomplished. But even without the social expectation Asmodeus would want to be there.

“Breathe, Fizz. You’ve got this.” Fizzarolli looked up at Asmodeus and nodded, but the confidence wasn’t entirely there.

“The competition is going to be really steep. Mammon said...”

“You’re competition too.” Silence again. Asmodeus sighed and continued on. “How many other competitors have cool robotic arms and legs that they learned how to use in a year, hmm? How many of them have been planning this for as long as you have? Do you think any of them have worked even half as much as you have to get here?”

Fizzarolli was thankful for the white foundation caked onto his face, otherwise the blush that rose when Asmodeus complimented him would have been obvious. “No. They haven’t.”

“Different isn’t bad, Fizzarolli. Different can be an advantage.” Fizzarolli was properly smiling now. Good Asmodeus thought. He felt more at ease now.

Fizzarolli’s face dropped but only for a moment when he realized the car was slowing down and they were approaching the contest. He was roused from his panic when Asmodeus tapped him on the shoulder and handed him something: a paper envelope. Fizzarolli tore it open to read.

Itemized Bill: Pageant Day Pay to the order of: Asmodeus, King of Lust, 5th Ring of Hell Custom Robotic Limbs, 1 set………….……….Show everyone who the best jester in Hell is.

You’re going do great. They’re going to love you. Smile inside and out.

-Asmodeus

Despite never having competed before, Fizzarolli seemed to have a rather popular draw. He was no Ziggy Zag, but his weekend tours must have paid off because he could hear at least a few people screaming his name when the lights turned on to introduce all ten contestants this year.

The pressure was on, but Fizzarolli was a natural performer. His jokes landed alright with the audience. He’d done enough riffing on other performers to get some laughs, and made sure to make plenty about himself as well. Asmodeus was right, different may not be bad. Nobody else had robotic limbs, that gave him more than enough material. He beat out Ziggy Zagg by two points. His magic act had gone alright, but his fingers still weren’t quite as nimble as they needed to be and he flubbed a few of his tricks. He was able to recover some points with quick wit and a well timed joke or stunt to distract. He ended up in third for that portion.

Juggling went better. Fizzarolli had accomplished his goal of unicycling and managed to do so while juggling six balls. It was one of Fizz’s strongest skills and it was strong enough to compete with the others and win the audiences choice. Fizzarolli almost didn’t believe it when he saw that he’d won in juggling, even after Ziggy had lit himself on fire for his performance. Balloons were trickier. Fizzarolli had almost mastered tying the damn things, but they were tricky and even on his best days he was known to pop one or two. He didn’t expect to win over Balloonzo. He managed a convincing enough replica of himself wearing a crown in time that landed him in fourth place for that category. He had more than enough points to advance to the next portion of the competition.

Pies and plates were easy enough to pass through in. Fizz managed top three in both. Pantomime was a bit trickier. He didn’t have the same nuance in his movements that he used to and had to rely a lot more heavily on his tail and facial expressions. Improv was hard to judge, but Fizzarolli had stopped paying too much attention. He was doing well, he could actually win this. He just had to keep people entertained. So long as he heard laughter, he continued.

When the totals scored up to decide who would be making it to the finals, Fizzarolli almost couldn’t believe that his name was one of the three finalists to continue. Acrobatics and theatrics. This was his chance. He could do this.

The dressing room afforded to him was small, but he got a private space thanks to his agreements with Mammon. It’s slightly nicer than his rehearsal space had been. The table was steadier, the mirror larger, and the lighting brighter. Fizzarolli read over Asmodeus’s note as he took his time preparing for the final acts. His phone buzzed.

BarB-Wire: Kick that Zig-Zag fucker’s ass! BarB-Wire: And don’t forget everything I’ve taught you! BarB-Wire: I’ve got half the floor watching you on TV right now. Had to threaten a riot to get the nurses to buy it for us. BarB-Wire:Pay-per-fucking-view of course. Missed the first part. BarB-Wire: Your scores look good.

Fizzarolli’s vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He hadn’t been able to visit Barb in rehab for weeks, and she only had her phone for certain hours of the day if she got it at all. She’d been radio silent for a week, but she’d done something to get a message off to him. She was watching him right now. He was going to win: for himself, for her, for everyone to see what it was he could really do. He was going to be the best clown in all of Hell. Fizzarolli managed to get changed and type a few heart emojis to Barb before he had to get back on stage.

Acrobatics could be plenty of things, but the most points were won in the air. He didn’t have to fly to have a routine that was going to get him as many points as possible. The finale was the really important part.

What’s the dream you’d like to have? Fizzarolli is standing 40 feet in the air. This was the dream. To have his dream, he had to do this. He wanted to win.

He’d been practicing for months, but even with the extra help of a balancing pole and his battery pack Fizzarolli wasn’t ready for a high wire. The best he could do was a beam, he hadn’t practiced this high up either.

Breathe, Fizzarolli. Smile inside and out..

Mammon wouldn’t let him fall to his death, he’d put too much money into Fizzarolli to let him do that. Even if he did fall, the worst that would happen is he loses. It’s not a very comforting thought, but it makes it easier to smile to the crowd as the spotlight flashed onto him.

Fizzarolli took a bow from his perch and looked out at the thousands of people staring at him. This is just a very large big top, Fizz is fine.

“Hello everyone and thank you for coming out tonight! I am the one and only, Fizzarolli. Are we having a great time tonight?” The shouts from the crowd are energizing and some of Fizzarolli’s tension eased. This is where he is supposed to be. “Before I start this next act, I’d like to remind everybody here that I got these shiny beauties-” Fizzarolli lifted the hem of his pants to show off his leg “-eight months ago.” There would be no high wire, there would be no complicated trapeze act, but he’d worked his tail off to get to this point. He was going to put on a show.

Fizzarolli bowed and grabbed the balancing pole. He took a deep breath, then stepped onto the balance beam that was set up across the stage. He took one step, then another. He made it just over half way before faltering. He knew one of the tricks was to not look down. That didn’t stop him from becoming distracted. He hesitated, faltered.

He was falling sideways.

This is it Fizzarolli thought. I’ve lost. I’ve flown too close to the sun. Falling was almost like flying.

But before Fizzarolli’s body hit the stage or the webbing he believed would catch him above it, he’s caught by something else entirely and thrown upwards. Naturally a performer, Fizz’s body knew how to fall. It knew how to save him too. His tail had coiled around the beam before he could fall completely and flung him upwards back into the air. Fizzarolli curled into a ball and spun in the air, managing to crash land on the platform opposite his starting position.

Fizzarolli rolled onto his side and waved at the crowd with a wink, his tongue stuck out to try and make it look like that was planned. He sat up and did a quick assessment. Nothing seemed to be injured, that was good. Fizzarolli scooted himself to the edge of the platform and onto the swing that was waiting for him. One deep breath, push off,

For a moment, Fizz was flying.

The swing dropped down and over the audience below before swinging back towards the stage. Fizzarolli pushed himself off the swing and landed on the stage in a somersault. The crowd went wild as Fizzarolli stood and raised his hands above his head.

He can barely keep himself upright as he stood next to the two other finalists but his smile remained plastered on his face. This is it. You are living the dream. Fizzaroli’s heart beat in his throat as Mammon clapped his hands to show off the final totals. It nearly stopped when it revealed that Fizzarolli was in a tie with the defending king.

Everything went silent, Fizzarolli had to do everything in his power to remember to breathe. Mammon was talking but he didn’t know what he was saying. Smile inside and out. Don’t pass out. The lights went dark over Fizzarolli’s head, the stage lit up blue over Ziggy Zagg. The crowd cheered.

You lost, Fizzarolli. He felt sick. Just keep breathing. Just until you can get off stage. The lights went dark again. Fizzarolli considered walking off stage right then, but nobody else was moving. The lights flashed on again. This time over Fizzarolli. The crowd was even louder.

Cha-ching! Fizzarolli was being picked up. Mammon was picking him up. Mammon was…..hugging him?

“You fucking legend!” Fizzarolli is sitting on Mammon’s shoulder now, fireworks and confetti go off at the same time. Fizzarolli sees his face plastered on the big screens. “You beautiful fucking freak, you won! You’re going to make me so much money”

You won.

You Won!

Fizzarolli jumped down from his perch on Mammon’s shoulder and waved out at the crowd. He might as well be floating, he was on top of the world. He’d done it.

So this is what winning feels like

_____________________________________________

There was no way Fizzarolli was returning to his shitty flat in Greed tonight, both him and Asmodeus agreed. They even agreed to forgo the car that had taken them there to much more conveniently teleport, as Asmodeus was able to do. Fizzarolli had never traveled via portal before before. It made him dizzy, but he was too high off of winning to do anything other than laugh. He pressed his head against Ram’s head as Asmodeus carried them to the elevator.

“We’re going to the workshop?” Fizzarolli asked when he realized that they’d surpassed the penthouse, Asmodeus nodded.

Fizzarolli waited until he was sat in his usual spot on Asmodeus’s workbench to speak again. “I already told you, Ozzie. I didn’t hurt myself with any of those landings. I’m fine.”

“I know” Asmodeus replied. He let Fizzarolli stay confused for a few more moments. “Do you still have the bill I gave you this afternoon?”

Fizzarolli nodded.

“Can you read it for me again?”

Fizzarolli had already read it about ten times, he didn’t need the card in front of him to know what it said, but he pulled it out of his pocket anyway.

“Custom Robotic limbs, 1 set. Payment: Show everyone who the best jester in Hell is.” He started reading the note from Asmodeus at the bottom but he was cut off by the Sin.

“And you did that.”

Fizzarolli nodded. “Obviously. Why?”

Asmodeus pulled two large briefcases out from the cabinets below and placed them in front of Fizzarolli. He was grinning like a schoolgirl. “I’m making good on my promise.”

They sat in silence for many moments as Fizzarolli processed what Asmodeus was trying to show him.

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“I’m not going to say yes a third time” Asmodeus chuckled.

“You just did.” The two paused and smiled at each other. Fizzarolli continued.

“You made me dildo arms?!” Fizzarolli was nothing but wonder as he reached towards the briefcases, eager to see what was inside.

“You explicitly told me not to make you dildo arms.” The two of them laugh for a few moments. There’s still tension in the air, excitement.

((The rest of this chapter is smut you're gonna have to go read that on ao3 ))