#you're a LIAR

[scarlettohairdye]

What's up, I made a meme that I'm sure is extremely broad-audience and relatable

[ps1demodisk]

Vegans(a very specific type, not all) when they say "it's more environmentally friendly to not use animal products! Think about how many resources cows take up!" Make me laugh cause like

Babygirl the fish are dying from the microplastics from all the pleather you lot use which is quite literally disintegrating after a certain amount of time and doesn't last anywhere near as long as leather.

Sacrificing a thousand fish to save one cow, and you're probably not even saving that cow, you're just letting more of it go to waste.

Oh but you can't say that to them, they'll just call you a "carnist" or some shit instead of trying to have an actual conversation

[red-queen-incorrect-quotes]

Over breakfast

Maven: You look good in that dress. Mare: You know where else I'd look good? Maven, zero hesitation: My bed. Mare, at the same time, trying to manipulate him: By your side- wait, what? Maven, coughing: I mean, out of my head.

[rd-eternity]

Whumptober Day 9: "Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.” | Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.” WITH THE ALTS OF: Miscommunication | Betrayal

Words: 4.4k

Summary: The McCall pack keeps telling Liam to stay way from Theo, that he's not changed and is prone to backstabbing them again, growing especially concerned when the two start dating. Not long after, Theo disappears, and the pack thinks he’s joined Monroe as a traitor, which Liam doesn’t believe. Until he goes to look for him.

Deeper into the preserve, the scent gets stronger with every step he takes, until the hunters meet up with another group.  Liam could cry.  Theo’s standing next to Monroe.  His arms are bloody, but his otherwise untouched, standing silently like a watchful entity. No chains. No gun to his head. No fearful chemosignals, only ones of confidence and smug pride. A knot twists in Liam’s stomach.  He knows Theo could kill every hunter there with his eyes closed, one hand tied behind his back.  But he’s just standing there.  Next to Monroe, watching her every word.  Liam doesn’t hear her at all.  Nausea fills his stomach, up to his throat.  Theo kneels, opening a hatch in the ground, speaking lowly to the hunters. It’s a Dread Doctors Operating Theater.  And he led them right to it.

[kayamark]

Whumptober: No. 9 - "You're a liar"

Oh! My sweet liar (2020)

Ep 18

[all-the-gory-details]

Whumptober Day 9

Polaroid / Mistaken Identity / “You’re a liar.”

TW: Restraints, partial nudity (non-sexual), knife, creepy whumper

The morning had gone by like usual. Alexei had come in to hand out food, water, and meds. Casey took a few minutes to go through Georgia’s paper cup and point out each supplement, antidepressant, and vitaman, to ease her mind. There was only one he didn’t recognise, but she quickly explained that it was her estrogen supplement.

“I don’t know how he knew my brand or dosage, though.”

“He has his ways,” Casey sighed.

Alexei came by to collect dishes, and the three started a game of go fish using Felix’s cards, asking questions with each play to get to know each other. Felix insisted on starting with simple questions, which Casey quickly agreed to. Felix tended to avoid talking about deep subjects, when at all possible. Besides, Casey didn’t know all that much about either Felix and Georgia, and favorite colors and animals seemed like a good place to start.

They only had a few minutes of playing before the door opened and Alexei walked in again. “Come on, Casey, let’s get moving,” he ordered, holding the door open and looking impatient.

Casey’s stomach dropped. “Where are we-”

“You’ve got a client,” Alexei interrupted, annoyed, “and they’ll be here any minute, so let’s move.”

Casey stayed motionless, rooted to the floor as the surprise and terror set in. He had only had a few clients since Alexei deemed him ‘trained’ enough to be on the market. He hadn’t gotten used to the paralyzing, horrible sensation of looming pain, hadn’t figured out how to push back the what-ifs and reluctance.

Alexei rolled his eyes and stepped into the room, grabbing Casey and yanking him up to his feet. He put a firm hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his room and down the dreaded hallway. He stopped to grab something out of a cupboard, but Casey hardly noticed. He couldn’t stop staring at the steel door.

When Alexei pushed him towards it once more, the panic surged and filled his body. “Sir, don’t make me, please don’t-”

Alexei didn’t stop, sliding the bolt and pulling the door open. Casey was pushed inside. His eyes moved on their own accord, and he could not take responsibility for their sweep over the many weapons on the wall in front of him.

Something hit Casey’s back, and he flinched and turned to see a small heap of clothing on the floor. “Get changed quickly,” Alexei ordered, turning to unwrap a thick rope from an anchor on the wall.

Casey did as he was told, pulling off his old clothes and putting on a fresh white tee and a pair of black athletic shorts. He balled the dirty clothes up and held onto them nervously.

Alexei had untied the rope and added more slack. The rope was threaded through a loop on the ceiling, and the end now hung at about eye level. Tied onto it was a large, metal hook.

Alexei pulled a sturdy pair of handcuffs off a shelf, and Casey realized what was happening.

He backed away a step, shaking his head as tears started to well up in his eyes. This was all too much, he didn’t want this, he couldn’t handle this.

Alexei didn’t care. He grabbed his wrists and forced the handcuffs on, letting the bundle of clothes drop to the floor. He placed them on the hook and pulled the rope, and suddenly Casey was on his toes, hands above his head, caught like a worm on a hook.

“They’ll be here in a minute,” Alexei said, grabbing the dirty clothes and moving towards the door. “On your best behavior, understand?”

Casey said nothing, eyes screwed tightly shut.

“I said, do you understand?” The darkened tone made Casey flinch, and he nodded immediately.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered. Alexei left without another word.

The client opened the door a few minutes later, and before Casey knew it, they were momentarily blinded by the flash of a camera. Once their vision came back, blurry and littered with spots, they got a look at the client.

She looked to be in her mid 30s, with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She smiled at Casey, holding the polaroid camera up again. This time, Casey had the foresight to close his eyes before the flash.

“Don’t mind me,” the woman said, bending down and pointing the camera up at him. “I’m just getting some ‘before’ pictures. We can get started in a minute.”

Casey found himself not minding the wait, as she lined up a few more shots. Anything to delay ‘getting started’.

Eventually, she put the camera down on a table, laying the developing photos out in a row. She turned to the wall of weapons and started looking. Casey didn’t know whether he wanted to watch or not, whether he wanted to know what would happen to him in a minute or two. In the end, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“So many interesting toys to play with,” the woman mused, tapping her chin in indecision. “In the end, though, I think I’ll stick to the classics.”

She pulled a knife off a magnetic strip, a small, curved weapon with a wicked shard point and a much duller blade. Casey couldn’t help the pathetic little whimper that escaped from his lips.

He wasn’t strong like Felix, not yet at least. He didn’t know how to bite back the screams, how to stay witty and brave through the pain.

When that knife bit into his chest as she slit his new clean shirt, when it carved patterns into his skin like he was a block of wood, he wasn’t able to hold back the sobs.

The client stepped back after what felt like hours, circling his shaking form like an artist around a sculpture. She picked up the camera and snapped picture after picture as Casey hung, barely supporting his weight, letting the cuffs rub his wrists raw.

She watched as they developed, smiling at each new addition to the collection of Casey’s pain. At one point, she picked one up and walked over to him.

“Look,” She said, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stare at the polaroid, showing off the blood dripping down his chest. “Don’t you think you look just beautiful like this?”

She was gripping him so hard, and his body hurt so much, and he wanted her to be happy, to leave him alone. “Y-yes,” he muttered, closing his eyes once more.

“Aww, you’re lying, aren’t you.” He felt a jolt of fear at these words. Would she punish him for the lie? Should he have told the truth, that he thought he looked like a cut of meat, barely human and hardly pleasing to the eye?

“No matter,” she continued, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “I can see enough beauty for the both of us.”

[ragecndybars]

“Megumi afureru sei Maria,” she mumbled into the beads. Hail Mary, brimming full with grace. At this point, her own voice sounded foreign and faraway, as if it came from somewhere outside of herself, echoing back to her from the chapel rafters above. “Shu wa anata wo erabi, shukufuku shi…” Listlessly, her eyes flicked up to the statue at the head of the chapel. Mary’s glassy, supposedly benevolent gaze stared pitilessly out over the empty pews, her stone hands spread to appease an invisible crowd of their invisible worries, even as her foot ground down upon the carved neck of a serpent. That would be just like her, Saori thought, the nostalgia unbidden and bitter to the taste. Though, more likely, she would pick the snake up and dispose of it safely somewhere out of sight, where it wouldn’t scare anyone and no one would take its life, either. That was what she did whenever some student or other was shrieking over some spider or beetle they’d found tucked into a distant corner of the library. What she had done.

Fandom: Persona 3 Characters: Hasegawa Saori, Shiomi Kotone Relationships: SaoriHam Summary:

Brown in some lights; red in others. Both her hair and eyes were like that; they weren’t really the same color, but they both seemed to catch the sun and transform from wood to precious stones. Like well-polished mahogany beneath warm light, or rosy rooibos tea swirling in a china cup. Everything about her was like that. Had been like that.

Word Count: ~3,000 Notes: Persona 3 spoilers. Also I made myself sad lmao enjoy. Whumptober prompts used: No. 7: "Can you hear me?" No. 8: "It's all for nothing." No. 9: "You're a liar."

[secretwhumplair]

Friendly visit

268 words | Sequel to Alleyway

Prompt | No. 9: "You're a liar" - @whumptober

Content | Distrust, referenced: possession, murder

Notes | Things are going well! /SARCASM

They weren’t sure this was a good idea. Weren’t they incredibly selfish? What if it would - what if they were putting another life in danger?

But they had to go somewhere. They probably couldn’t go home - surely they’d be caught there. Right?

They knocked, their heart hammering inside their chest. They hoped it would stay down. They hoped it wouldn’t-

When their friend opened, she flinched back, clapping a hand to her mouth. They weren’t sure what she saw. Just the wanted criminal she’d seen on the news? Or was there blood left they’d failed to wash off?

»Hi-«

»I can’t believe you’re showing up here.«

Their heart sank at her harsh tone, a thin line of panic running underneath it. »I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t know-«

»You - you have five minutes to disappear before I call the police.« She stepped back, holding on to the door.

They could feel despair rising in their throat. »No - listen - it’s not how you think-«

»I saw the footage! Get out!«

»Listen, I was possessed. Like, literally. And then this guy kidnapped me-« As they heard themself talking, they noticed how absurd they sounded. »Please, you’ve got to believe - you’ve got to he-«

She stared at them, and for a moment, they allowed themself to hope. Before- »You’re insane.« Her voice was shaking. »You’ve completely lost your mind. Or you’re a liar who thinks I’m really stupid. That’s it, I’m calling the cops.«

They made a half-hearted attempt to stop her, barely reaching out - but it was enough to draw a screech from her.

The door slammed in their face.

[meetinginsamarra]

Whumptober Day 9 "You're a liar"

John gasped for air that did not find a way into his lungs, slowly suffocating on the monstrous terror that Sherlock might have died again.

Taking advantage of John’s momentary paralysis, Smith straightened up to look John dead into the eyes. In an attempt to distract and shock John even further, trying to gain valuable seconds in order to make an escape through the secret door, Smith bared his crooked teeth.

“Too late, Doctor Watson,” Smith sneered, “he’s already mine.” He released his hands from Sherlock’s face and held his fingers up, wriggling them in the way a party magician would do after having performed his best trick.

“Dead things, you know?” Smith chuckled happily.

However, this remark had the exact opposite effect on John. Clenching his hands, John’s combat reflexes took control, breaking the paralysis and banishing every shred of doubt.

I refuse to believe that Sherlock’s dead! I was made to watch him die before and every time he came back!

“You’re a liar!” John roared and sprang into action.

—

find the fic on AO3 HERE

---

Please tell me if anybody wants to get tagged or untagged (just say it, I won’t get mad).

@helloliriels @calaisreno @7-percent @lisbeth-kk @inevitably-johnlocked @peageetibbs @gaylilsherlock @totallysilvergirl @alexisnoir @blogstandbygo @jobooksncoffee @missdeliadili @kabubsmagga @mary-johnlocked

[alicewritingstories]

Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 5: Truth

~Also on AO3~

Prompts:

No. 9: “Learning everything ain’t what it seems, that’s the thing about these days.” | Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You’re a liar.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.” | Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

Warnings: Emotional pain

Central character(s): Hyrule

Link - Hyrule, as his four new companions had nicknamed him - had crept away from camp to get some space. While they seemed like good people, he wasn't used to having company and just the feeling of another person nearby was sometimes stifling.

It didn't help that they were all clearly much better at being heroes than him. The hints they had dropped about their own worlds sounded alien to him: tales of prosperity and happiness and comfort. They had defeated their enemies and until this new quest their adventures had been over. None of them had to constantly sleep with one eye open. None of them had to constantly run and hide.

None of them carried the fear that a drop of his blood could revive the monster he had tried so hard to defeat.

None of them were tainted with such evil.

He sat down on the stump of a long-dead tree with a sigh. He'd go back soon. It was just that sometimes having so much light near him was too much. He was too used to darkness.

"You really had us fooled."

He startled so much he sprang off the stump, drawing his sword before he'd even thought about it. 

He recognised Time even as he turned.

Then he registered his new friend's words and the look of anger and disgust on his face as he walked out of the trees.

"What?" Hyrule stammered.

"I think you heard him," said Sky, walking out of the trees to Hyrule's right. His usual kind and friendly expression was gone. His upper lip drew back in a snarl of rage, his eyes shining. "You're a liar. We thought you were one of us. A fellow hero. Not just another servant of Ganon."

Hyrule's breath caught in a desperate sob. How had they found out? How could they possibly have found out what he was? What he carried? He dropped the sword and raised his hands desperately.

"I'm not!" he stammered. "I'm not, I… I tried. I tried so hard…"

"You? Tried to fight?" It almost wasn't a surprise to hear Four to his left, but the words still hurt more than any arrow. Hyrule spun to look at him, but there was no protest he could make. Four just shook his head and laughed without any humor. "You haven't got it in you. A hero? You even run from townspeople."

Hyrule choked, tears streaming down his face. When they had first tracked him down he'd thought they meant to kill him. He had run. Of course that was their first impression.

But Legend had been the one to bring him to the group. He had been the one…

Then came Legend's voice from behind him. "Is your name even really Link? Or is that a lie too?"

At the sound of such an accusation from his friend, Hyrule dropped to his knees, his face in his hands, crying uncontrollably. He'd thought he was safe. He'd thought maybe he finally had friends.

And now this.

Hands grabbed him and shook him. He instinctively struggled. Someone was calling, "Hyrule?" But he didn't want to hear what they had to say. He didn't want to hurt any more.

"Hyrule, wake up!"

Suddenly he wasn't in the forest. He was in camp, tangled up in his worn blanket. The hands gripping his shoulders belonged to Sky. The other hylian was kneeling over him, eyes that Hyrule had just seen filled with anger and loathing looking at him with concern.

Despite that, he shoved him away and scrambled to put his back to a tree, breathing hard, tears still running down his cheeks. On the other side of camp, Time had pushed himself up on an elbow, blinking his one eye sleepily. Legend was stirring. Four was still asleep.

"It's OK, Hyrule," said Sky, sitting back on his heels and raising his hands. "You were having a nightmare."

"D-don't touch me," said Hyrule, sniffing back his tears as best he could. Touch was always bad. Being grabbed was always bad. "Just… leave me alone."

"OK," said Sky. He sounded hurt.

No. Angry. Hateful.

Hyrule took another shuddering breath.

"Don't touch me," he said again, more forcefully.

"I'm not going to."

Hyrule curled up in a ball, burying his face in his knees. After a while he heard Sky move away, his and Time's soft voices.

One day they would find out the truth about him.

One day they would hate him.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #9

Day 9 - Batboys - "You're a liar"

*

Jason fired his guns with a certain glee. The gang scattered behind cover, yelling at each other for someone to take Jason out.

“Someone can try!” Jason called cheerfully, launching over a dumpster to kick one of the gang members in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. Jason easily flipped his gun around in his hand and smacked the butt of it into the man’s temple to knock him out. 

Tim leapt over the crates they were using as cover to take out a few more with smooth, practiced moves. He clearly wasn’t taking as much glee in the mission as Jason, but he didn’t chastise Jason for his fun.

After all, why would he? They were cleaning up a poorer section of Gotham. This gang had formed to prey on the poor who didn’t have transportation or couldn’t afford good security in their homes. They’d break in, steal what little they had, or jump them as they walked or biked home after a hard day of working to feed themselves. 

Just two days ago, they’d jumped two young boys who’d earned some money with a lemonade stand. They boys were on their way home, elated that they had enough money to go on their school field trip at last, when the attack hit them. One boy was left hospitalized. 

Jason could picture so many times he’d walked around after dark. It could’ve been him if he was still young. No little kid deserved that.

Tim had agreed to help him stop the gang when Babs got wind they were planning to pull off a bigger job on a delivery truck tonight. Jason was grateful for the support, because Tim knew what this particular mission meant to Jason. 

And Jason was having a great time making these streets safer for kids like he had been once, right up until he heard the gunshot and Tim’s scream.

“No!” He whipped around, his joy gone in an instant. Tim laid on the ground, blood pooling out from his body, his hands pressed to his abdomen.

Jason barely remembered the next few minutes. He became a whirlwind of furious, protective movement, taking out every single gang member he could get his hands on, barely suppressing the urge to kill the bastards. They deserved it; they all fucking deserved it.

But he held back just enough to knock them out instead. When the last fell, he leapt over the unmoving body and raced to Tim’s side.

“Hey, hey!” he said, grabbing Tim’s wrists and trying to pull them away. “Dammit, let me see, Tim.”

Tim moved his hands and Jason’s face paled at the gunshot wound in his abdomen and the blood pouring from it. He put Tim’s hands back, applying pressure.

“Babs, Tim was shot,” he said into his earpiece, his voice tight. “Get us help. Now.”

She was replying, but he didn’t hear the words. He was too focused on Tim’s face and the way it was contorted in anguish.

This was Jason’s fault. He hadn’t been taking it seriously. He hadn’t been properly watching Tim’s back.

The wound was so bad.

“You’re going to be fine. Just stay with me,” Jason said.

“You’re a liar,” Tim choked out with a weak laugh. Jason was horrified to see blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth. “A good man, but a liar.”

“Tim-”

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not your fault, Jason. I let my guard drop.”

“But-”

“No. It is NOT your fault this happened.”

His voice was fierce despite how weak his movements were growing and how pale he was becoming. The blood just kept coming up between his fingers, spilling out onto the ground.

“You protected…t-those kids. All those p-people,” Tim said, giving a faint smile. “I’m proud of you. P-Proud to help you.”

“Shit,” Jason whispered, feeling the tears in his eyes. “Hang on, you bastard. Don’t you- Just hang on. Please, Tim. Please.”

Tim’s eyes dropped shut. Jason let out a despaired noise and applied more pressure to the wound, knowing it was all he could do as he prayed help came in time and no one else had to die on these streets.

[starthornisscratching]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Additional Tags: aged-up, Evil Lila Rossi, Prompt: Mistaken Identity, Prompt: “You're a liar.”, Mob Mentality, Female Whumpee Series: Part 8 of Starthorn's Whumptober 2023 Summary:

Ladybug can't get into the panel, and the people seem to be really angry about her trying to get in.

And what's all this about a 'real' Ladybug?!

[brighteyedjill]

Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Angst, Whump, POV Lambert (The Witcher), Denial, Trust Issues, Lambert Needs a Hug (The Witcher), Whumptober Summary:

Aiden missed his spring rendezvous with Lambert. He missed it because he was murdered in an ambush. But Lambert won’t know that until later. Now, all Lambert knows is that he’s alone. Aiden didn’t keep his promise. And it’s easier to be angry than afraid.

----

Yeah, sorry, it’s another major character death fic for Whumptober. But this one is all about how furious Lambert is that he fell in love with Aiden. He, uh, does not know how to deal with his feelings, that’s for sure.

[meraki24601]

You're A Liar

Whumptober day 9: “You're a liar.”

-----------*-***-*-----------

Hero’s power surrounded them like a halo. They needed to get it under control before they went in to talk to Sidekick, but that was easier said than done. Betrayal wasn’t something Hero took lightly. The information Sidekick had given Villain could have ended up getting someone killed.

“You can come in, Hero,” Sidekick called through the door. “I can hear you thinking from here.”

Giving up on the more subtle approach, Hero opened the door. “Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you.”

Sidekick sat up straight when they saw the literal heatwaves of Hero’s fury. Their eyes skipped between the possible exits before they spoke. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? I haven’t seen you this mad in a long time.”

“We’ve been betrayed.”

“No way.” Sidekick’s voice broke slightly, and they cleared their throat. “There’s no way. I trust everyone on our team. Do you have any evidence?”

Hero sat heavily in the chair across from Sidekick, “Not enough. I need your help. Villain couldn’t have known what they knew in our last battle if they hadn’t been tipped off. We didn’t pass any information on to the police, and all meetings were held in private, fully secure locations.”

“Did you check if the meeting spots were bugged?” Sidekick turned to their computer, typing as if they were taking notes.

“They’re clear. Do you have a list of all the people who attended the meetings?” Hero folded their hands in their lap. “Also, can you access the list of when people entered and exited the building?”

“I can.” Sidekick’s typing picked up. “Do you have an idea of when it would have happened?” 

“Day of the fight. Villain’s attack seemed too thrown together to have had much time to prepare.” Hero stood, pacing the room as Sidekick worked. They had, of course, already checked those lists. Only two people had left the building after the meeting and before the fight: Mentor and Sidekick. Mentor had been on a video call with Hero the whole time. Hero had even traced a call to Villain from Hero’s phone. The rest of the team needed to be convinced. That’s why Hero had come. They needed to catch Sidekick in a lie. Something that couldn’t have been faked, and Guard would help Hero perform the arrest. 

“Okay. I’ve got the list of people in the meeting that day. It seems like the only person who left the building after that was… Mentor.”

“Mentor was the only one? You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure, Hero. No one else left the building until we left together for the fight. I can pull up the security footage of them leaving if you would like to look at it.”

“Liar.”

Sidekick jumped in their chair, “I’m sorry, Hero, but if you’re sure we were betrayed, well, the evidence seems to point to Mentor. I know you respect them. We can look into this together if you want.”

“You’re lying. It’s all lies.” Hero fell to their knees, their fist slamming on the side table with a loud bang. Yes, they respect Mentor, but Sidekick had been their closest friend. “Did I do something wrong? Why would you do this to me? To the whole team?”

“I’m not lying. I’m not a liar, Hero. Look. I’ve got the evidence right here.” Sidekicks breathing was quick. They hid their panic well, but it wasn’t enough to keep it from Hero.

Hero let their hands fall from the now cracked side table and into their lap. Their burst of anger had disappeared just as quickly as they had lost control. All they felt was sorrow. “I already looked at the records, Sidekick. I made copies of both the door records and the video. Even recovered that lovely little phone call. Just stop. You’re a liar and a traitor.”

For a moment it looked like Sidekick was going to keep arguing. Instead, they held out their wrists for Hero to put on the cuffs.

[kaesaaurelia]

popcorn

For @whumptober day 9, using the prompts “mistaken identity" and "you're a liar."

Continued from Day 6, wherein something is puppeting Aziraphale, and Crowley is being tortured.

When Crowley had seen Aziraphale standing outside of the Bentley, looking anxious and apologetic, he'd thought, Fuck, he looks miserable, and then he'd thought Good, and then he'd felt bad about that.

Aziraphale had been apologetic. Deeply, desperately apologetic. "You were right," he'd said, "there's no fixing them, they're all miserable idiots Up There. I should never have gone. The tea's not even good."

He should, he thinks, have got Aziraphale to do the apology dance. Should have asked what was off about the tea. But he'd been too pleased to hear that he'd been right. "Don't know what to tell you, angel," he'd said. "You've made your lukewarm tea, now lie in it."

"I… don't, as a rule, lie in tea," Aziraphale had said, looking perplexed.

"You know what I mean."

Their argument had been wide-ranging and yet, now that Crowley looked back at it, weirdly lacking in specifics. They had talked about the kiss, and Aziraphale had, haltingly, shyly, said he wished they had time for more of that, but for the life of him, Crowley couldn't recall which of them had brought up the kiss first. Had he just given that information away? Was he no better than a mark at a palmist's, giving out all the details of his and Aziraphale's relationship and having them regurgitated back to him by someone who was only pretending to be Aziraphale?

Crowley really hoped this wasn't Aziraphale. Really hoped. He did not like to think what they must have done to Aziraphale to make him this awful, if it was him.

Aziraphale -- or whoever -- had begged for Crowley's forgiveness without ever quite articulating what Crowley wanted him to, and Crowley knew, in his small, bitter, stony heart, that he must be penitent, and that it would be wrong to keep sulking, but Crowley also knew that he had done plenty of wrong things before and would again, and besides, whether or not Aziraphale knew he was right, he was still angry. So he'd ignored all the apologies after a point, gone about his business of the day, with an apologetic shadow in white following him. (It had been particularly fun at the cinema. Crowley had got popcorn and not even offered to share, or even looked over to see if Aziraphale wanted any. All of Aziraphale's desperate whispered apologies had annoyed everybody else. It was a horrible situation for everyone but Crowley.)

He had been strong and held onto his anger for hours before Aziraphale had said, nervously, that he actually wanted to ask a favor of Crowley, and Crowley had continued to ignore him.

And then he'd said the word heist, and. Well. Even if Crowley had the reservoir of spite to keep him furious at Aziraphale for eternity, he couldn't resist a heist. Or getting one over on Heaven.

They had planned every detail. Crowley realized now that it was awfully suspicious, that Crowley got to do all the exciting bits, and that every time he'd said 'oh no, I'm not doing that,' the angel had readily agreed. Also, Crowley had asked if there was a bit where he had to enter from above and dangle from a cable, mostly jokingly, and there was, actually, that happened to be a key part of the plan. He'd been so excited about that that he'd forgot how little sense it made for Heaven's architecture to be constructed that way. And also that he had wings.

And now he was here in Heaven having 300 million volts run through him off and on while some awful Throne with no sense of humor asked questions and Aziraphale watched with apparent glee.

"My misstake," he told the Throne, after his third smiting. "Did I say 'gullible'? I meant 'credulousss.' Got to look that one up, all the plansss are hidden there."

He managed to look up at Aziraphale quickly, and he thought, Nah, can't be him. Because he was pretty sure, given what Crowley had put him through back on Earth, that if the real Aziraphale had changed his mind so drastically about Crowley that he'd let all of this happen, he would have been eating popcorn while he watched, just to rub salt, and maybe that weird liquid butter, on the wound.

[callaeidae3]

Whumptober2023 Day 8/9: "İt's all for nothing" | "You're a liar"

A combined prompt for the last two days!

This is both Kyle and Minharh grieving their lost father-son relationship, lost through Minharh's own faked death.

For Kyle, it's a betrayal of trust, and five years of enduring and adapting to a life without his dad (and only friend).

For Minharh, he knew he'd have to reveal his identity to Kyle at some point, if the ever reunited. But Kyle saw through his lies first.

This scene would fall right after the end of Chapter 1 in The Deliverance of Kyle Kindall (KK3)