#miccie mutters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

total-drama-takes-takes-2 · 8 months

Text

aftermath 2

A flashy intro sequence reading “TTA Aftermath” flashes across the screen as a merry tune plays. A clip montage of scenes from the past four challenges play- mostly the humiliating ones.

The screen glitches, and the camera pans out and down to a swanky studio. Former contestant Patrick is sitting on a suede couch in front of a clearly-cardboard back wall. In the bleachers off to the side are every camper who hasn’t made it back, or who’s been eliminated so far- Courtney, Ass, Julia, Staci, Mal, Frollo, Kelly, Austin, McLovin, Bonnie, Michela, Sha-Mod, and Joner.

Kitty crawls out from under the couch and sits next to Patrick, covered in dust bunnies. He grimaces and scoots away from them. “Welcome back to another riveting episode of the Total Takes Action Aftermath- I’m your host, Patrick, this is my assistant Kitty, and this-”

“A travesty! This is a travesty! Boooo!” A voice from the audience yells. Patrick winces as if listening to nails on a chalkboard. “Down with the Patrickarchy!”

Caesar is standing in front of the audience, holding a picket sign and booing. He throws an apple at Kitty, though they duck at the last second and it hits Julia in the peanut gallery.

“DAMN IT! Give it a rest, Caesar!”

“Never! Not until we dismantle this oppressive system!”

Patrick rolls his eyes and pulls out a remote, pressing a blue button on it. A few burly security guards come out and restrain Caesar, tying him to the guest chair on stage.

He pouts. “It’s not fair! I’m a host! I should be hosting!”

“You snooze you lose, buddy,” Patrick shrugs. “Can someone gag him? We have a schedule to keep, people!”

Kitty beams, running over to Caesar and digging around in their pockets before pulling out a party horn and stuffing it in his mouth, and then tossing a bunch of confetti over him. He blows into the horn weakly.

“Thank you,” Patrick mutters before pulling out a set of freshly minted cue cards. “First on the agenda… hey! HEY! No fraternizing in the peanut gallery!” he stands and points at McLovin and Sha-Mod kissing in the stands. “In the time-out corner!”

The two guards from earlier run up and grab McLovin, carrying him off stage. Michela’s voice rings out weakly from the stands. “Thank you,”

The audience stares at Patrick. “What?” he insists. “Oh- COME ON! I’m not homophobic, I hate everyone equally.”

Kitty nods and the audience murmurs. Caesar spits out the party horn and addresses the audience. “Yes! Yes! Turn against him! I could be host, I’d let those gayboys make out all they want! I-”

Kitty stuffs a handful of candy in his mouth and then scampers back to the couch, sitting next to Patrick.

“Thank you. First on the agenda, we have a little game of Truth or Scare. Let’s see… Joner!”

Joner stands nervously and gives a firm salute. “Sir, yes, sir!” He jogs down to the main stage and awkwardly stands next to Caesar.

“Kitty, bring out the wheel,” Patrick instructs. “The game is simple. Much like the truth or dare of Total Takes Island, on this wheel the peanut gallery has dictated a list of truths- questions you must answer honestly- and I have a list of scares- punishments that will be inflicted if you lie.”

Joner holds up a finger as Kitty rolls out a large spinning wheel on a dolly. “How can you tell if we’re lying or not?”

“Kitty can smell fear,”

They bare their teeth and grin. Joner swallows nervously.

“You’re up,”

He hesitantly inches towards the wheel and puts the tip of his pinky finger on it, shaking in his boots. Michela shouts from the crowd. “You got this!”

He smiles nervously and spins the wheel, landing on a picture of Courtney. He sighs, relieved, and they give him a big thumbs-up from the peanut gallery.

“BO-RING!” Patrick sighs. “Fine. Courtney’s truth is- “Tell us your most exciting memory with a friend.”

Joner relaxes a little. “That’s easy. Miccy and I had to be… five or six. Our families went camping together, and one morning we snuck off super early to catch salamanders. But we ended up getting lost, and it started raining, and it took like three hours for us to get back to camp,”

Ass rolls their eyes. “That’s your most exciting memory?”

“I had an uneventful childhood,” he shrugs before spinning the wheel again. It lands on Staci.

“Staci asks- who’s your secret Total Drama crush?”

The crowd Oohs and Joner blushes. “I don’t think I really have one,”

Patrick turns to Kitty, who nods. He pulls another stack of cue cards from his coat and shuffles them slowly before drawing one from the deck. “Ah, Max’s punishment, may he rest in peace-”

“He’s not dead,” Michela says from the crowd.

Ass scoffs. “As far as we know,”

“-Spend fifteen minutes in a sound-proof chamber with Julia and a beaver on steroids,”

Julia stands. “WHAT!”

The security guards return again and haul the two off stage. Patrick smiles and waves good-bye, and then turns to Kitty. “I am so glad we hired those guys. Let’s see, what’s next… Sha-Mod, care to take the hot seat?”

He hesitates. “Um. By hot seat you mean the interview chair and not a seat that sets on fire, right?”

“No. Of course not. That would be a hazard. Our chair heats up like an electric oven,” Patrick smiles, watching Kitty pull a lever. The seat drops from the ceiling and crashes into the ground, indenting the floor. Sha-Mod gulps.

“No? Suit yourself. Michela, you-”

“No comment,” she crosses her arms and leans back against the bleachers.

“But you-”

“I said no comment,” she snaps. “I don’t have anything to regret, no secrets, no rumors, no gossip, no lies, I did my bit and I went out protecting someone I love. What do you want from me, a poem?”

“Ugh,” Patrick rolls his eyes. “As much as I hate to admit that anyone but me is right, I’ll pass on the mushy-gushy romance story. Sha-Mod, you’re back up!”

“Why me?!” Sha-Mod shouts. “I’ll just tell my romance story, too!”

“Do you need incentive? Kitty, the screen,” Kitty presses another button on the remote and the massive TV screen lowers above their heads again. “Show him the time-out corner.”

The screen fizzles to life and cuts to live footage of McLovin suspended by rope in the air, dangling above a massive shark tank. Patrick smiles, at peace with the world. Sha-Mod grimaces.

“And for the low, low price of 3rd degree burns, we’ll set McLovin free!”

“Fine!” Sha-Mod huffs. He stands and sits in the hot seat next to Caesar, who finishes chewing the sticky candy just as he settles in.

“You know, Sha-Mod, if you help me overthrow Patrick and Kitty, I can put an end to this James Bond villain crap,” Caesar says. “I’ll let you co-host if you want!”

Sha-Mod holds up a hand. “I’m okay,” he turns to Patrick as Caesar sighs. “So, what’s the deal? Do I have to pull out my teeth or something?”

Patrick crosses his legs and pulls out a notebook. “Not at all- this is free-flowing therapy. I’ll say a word, and you’ll say the first response that pops into your head. While this chair heats to degrees hot enough to cook an egg on. If you can survive just one measly minute in the hot seat, we’ll let McLovin go,”

The screen continues to play live footage of the time-out corner. The peanut gallery turns to each other. “Is anyone going to do anything about that?” Courtney asks. Michela shrugs.

Finally, a single hero stands amongst the crowd. “I’m on it, baby!” Austin says, striking a heroic pose before losing his balance and falling off the stands. Courtney sighs.

“Ready?” Patrick asks. Sha-Mod nods.

“Dolphin,”

“...Ocean,”

“Speedboat,”

“Ocean?”

“2 million dollars in cash,”

“Um- I thought it was only supposed to be one word-”

“Airplane,”

“Musicals…?”

“Hijacking,”

“Um… wait-”

“D.B. Cooper,”

“Hold on-”

The peanut gallery’s attention is diverted from the disaster on stage to the screen- as Patrick and Kitty are obliviously talking to Sha-Mod, Austin stumbles his way into the time-out room and says something to McLovin. He then stands at the edge of the tank, trying to grab the boy without hanging over the water. He resembles a cat batting at a toy more than a hero.

Still, the audience and peanut gallery alike watch as the rescue goes down, and eventually, Austin just falls in the water long enough to distract the sharks. The rope holding McLovin snaps and he falls in, but the binds come undone and he swims out, eventually followed by a wet, pathetic Austin. The peanut gallery cheers and Patrick finally turns to the board. “What the-”

Caesar manages to wiggle out of his binds as Patrick is distracted and he lunges on him like a tiger attacking a deer.

Kitty winces at the commotion and smiles at the camera. “We’ll be right back!”

---

When the commercial break closes off, the studio is quiet. Patrick is now the one bound and gagged in the guest seat, and Caesar is fixing his hair in the reflection of the shiny glass table in front of him.

He looks up. “We’re back? Oh- we’re back, ladies and gentlemen! I’m your new host, Caesar Flickerman, and this is Total Takes Action: The Aftermath! I’m here with some questions from the audience to close off today’s episode- but don’t worry, we’ll be back soon after,” he winks. “Alright, let’s start off with the disgraced former contestants… Julia?”

Julia sits in the stands, covered in scratches and bites, one side of her hair completely sticking up. She crosses her arms and glares.

“Mary M says: Hey, Julia. Imagine losing to McLovin of all people. Couldn’t be me. You should be disappointed in yourself." What an inspired take!"

She rolls her eyes, and refuses to answer.

“Okay- next one, from an anonymous user, open to anyone- “How was spending time with Fren on the playa de losers? is he as rude and loud as he is in his original songs? or is he as nice as he is on his social media?””

“He’s… fine, I guess,” Courtney shrugs.

“He’s a liar is what he is,” Ass murmurs, then turns to the camera. “By the way, Fren, there’s no way you were working at a law firm in elementary school- yeah, I looked it up!”

Staci looks up from her phone. “Who?”

“Yeahhh, I don’t think this is the right demographic to ask. The people Fren was friends with at the ‘casa’ are all still in the game,” Michela says. “Unless…?” she turns back to the peanut gallery and everyone shrugs

Staci squeals. “OMG, Zoey just liked my comment on Instagram!”

“Oookay,” Caesar says. “Well, enough about you people. Time for questions about ME!”

The peanut gallery groans in unison. Bonnie balances their head in the palms of their hands and hunches forward, looking off into the distance. Julia leans forward. “Woke up on the wrong side of the coffin?”

“Shut up,”

“Don’t even bother,” Ass says to Julia, crossing their arms. “You might as well be talking to a Halloween decoration.”

Julia rolls her eyes. “I’m just asking. Sue me!” She turns back to Bonnie. “You and Salad Dressing over there haven’t spoken since he got back, have you?”

“I’m not talking to you,”

“He’s been so busy with the show, he hasn’t even bothered to hunt you down?”

Julia suddenly yelps as Courtney grabs her wrist and yanks her back into her seat. “Watch it,”

The blonde rolls her eyes and scoffs, trying to play off the ordeal by fixing her hair.

“Alright, this first one comes from River: “To Caesar: bro, I thought you were going to sweep. This is so heartbreaking,” Well, that makes two of us!” Caesar chuckles. The audience laughs. “But honestly, I’m in my prime here. What would you rather have- a million measly dollars (minus tax), or a lifetime of luxury from lawsuits and appearance fees? Fame, baby!”

The audience cheers. Ass looks around. “How does he keep getting people to react?!”

“Host charisma,” Bonnie sighs and stares ahead blankly.

“Next up, from Caesar Fan- aw- “I miss you.” Well, Caesar Fan, I’ve missed me, too,” Caesar flicks through the papers. “Can you drop the hair or skin care routine?” Well, I’m afraid to say that’s a trade secret.” He winks.

“Egg yolks and aloe moisturizer!” Julia yells. “What? I could smell it on the island.”

Caesar huffs and rolls his eyes. “Funny you’d butt in, Julia, because this one is for us,” Julia gags. “Again from River- “Who slays more between the two of you. Can we have a contest to determine that? Please.” What an inspired question! Now, I actually took the liberty of taking a quick poll…”

The overhead screen lowers again and a graphic appears in bright blue. “75% of poll takers responded on my behalf, leaving a measly 25% for Julia,”

The audience Oohs.

She stands. “WHAT! You people seriously can’t believe this! He obviously just made those statistics up!”

“Really?” Caesar chuckles. “Let’s show some testimonials from the field.”

The screen crackles to static and then refocuses on the image of a young teenager behind a microphone on a crowded city street.

The cameraman asks an indistinct question and the girl laughs. “How is that even a question? Of course, Caesar!”

Static- another teenager on a different street. “I feel like that’s a pretty subjective question… but that’s the point, huh? I guess I’d have to say Caesar, but I’m biased,”

Static- a boy inside a coffee shop. “Um… well, I haven’t seen the show in a while, but I guess the guy, even though that’s kinda gay,”

Static- an awkward, braces-riddled preteen. He grins widely. “Definitely Julia! She’s so hot!”

The screen turns off and Caesar smiles victoriously. Julia is frozen in place, a wild look on her. Her eye twitches and she suddenly lunges forward. Caesar screams and the screen goes black.

---

Fade in.

Julia is now sitting on the suede couch, smiling with her hands in her lap. Caesar is handcuffed to a radiator across the room, his hair a mess.

“Welcome back. I’m your new-new host, Julia, and this is Total Takes Action: Aftermath,” she stands and begins pacing the room. “Before our break, we had a really annoying shift in tone, and I’m here to right that!”

“So you’re on my side!” Patrick says, still tied to the chair across the room.

“No! You’re both idiots, and I’m only doing this to teach you two peacocks a lesson in humility!” Julia snaps, then smiles. “That’s my speciality.”

“You can’t keep me here forever! Kitty will find me!”

“Ooooh, I don’t know about that,” Caesar chuckles. “We might have given Kitty an all-day pass to the aquarium.”

Patrick’s eyes narrow. “Kitty is banned from the aquarium,”

“A little bribe can go a long way! Ah-ha… like I said, I’m a very thorough planner,”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!” Julia yells. “God, I am so sick of you guys! Constantly trying to show off and out-swagger each other. You’re both lame, move on!” She takes a deep breath, and then smiles again. “And to punish you, I’ve planned a little something myself.”

“Man, that girl is evil,” McLovin whispers to the peanut gallery.

All the fem-aligned people turn to him. Kelly scoffs. “I didn’t realize you had a problem with women in power!”

Staci nods. “Um, yeah, like she’s totally girlbossing, and this is so going on my blog,”

“Too late!” Mal says. “I’m already streaming this. Julia is so trending on Twitter now!”

Bonnie puts their head in their hands and Michela pats their shoulder reassuringly.

Julia suddenly turns to the pair, pointing out an accusing finger. “BONNIBEL!”

Bonnie jumps, the lights on stage dimming and a spotlight falling over them. “How did you-”

“Oh, please, I have access to a lot of files,” Julia rolls her eyes. She looks back to the chair. “Um, hot tip, Patty- maybe don’t make all your passwords your first name. Anyway… let’s give the audience what they asked for, right? I know all of us… and you… have been very curious as to what’s going on in paradise.”

Bonnie turns bright red and avoids eye contact. Caesar’s eyes widen from across the room and he hisses as the radiator turns on.

“Question number one,” Julia pulls a small garbage bin out from under the table and takes a crumpled ball of paper out of it. “This comes from River- “Can you guys PLEASE talk about what you guys got going on. Please.””

Caesar coughs awkwardly. Bonnie looks down and speaks quietly. “That was in the trash?”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Patrick says. “You know I love psychological torture as much as the next guy.”

The lavender-haired prisoner sighs. “Listen, I… I didn’t want us to go through this in front of all these people. I just… well, I know you like dealing with things on your own,”

“Is… that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Julia grins widely and sits back on the couch, enjoying the show. The entire peanut gallery is still, though Mal is moving her phone from speaker to speaker across the room.

“A part of the reason,” Caesar sighs again. “I just figured you would need some time to adjust to… well, everything. I’m still figuring out where I stand on all this myself- the show, the aftermath, our friends, our enemies…” he turns to Julia and glares. “And myself! I still don’t know what’s right for me.”

“You were doing okay at hosting this,” Bonnie says. Patrick laughs and they glare, but ignore him. “You seem to know what you’re doing most of the time.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing most of the time!”

A blanket of deeply uncomfortable silence falls over the studio. Patrick is humming something to himself and Julia is filing her nails with a big smile on her face.

“Maybe we don’t really know each other that well,” Caesar says. “But… that doesn’t mean either of us are doing anything wrong.”

“What does it mean, then?”

“It means that we still have a lot to talk about. And maybe… avoiding the subject and making assumptions about each other isn’t the right way to handle that,” Caesar smiles slightly. “Maybe we should stop putting this off.”

“So?” Julia asks, flicking away her nail file. “Where’s the chorus? The goo-goo eyes? Where are the rose petals, people!”

An intern walks out by the radiator Caesar is cuffed to with a small basket and dumps a few flower petals over his head. “Thank you!” Julia yells from off-screen.

“No, no, this is all wrong,” Caesar sighs, massaging his temples with his free hand. “This isn’t for us! Love you all to pieces, but we’re not Max and Michela, or Sha-Mod and that other one.”

“Well,” Bonnie fidgets nervously, twirling their thumbs around each other. “What are we?”

“I don’t know,” Caesar says, almost confidently. “I’ve been avoiding the subject because I don’t know! But does that really matter?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Bonnie says, standing in the peanut gallery. “Why do we even have to be anything to be taken seriously? Why is everyone so obsessed with this whole gotcha moment?”

Julia rolls her eyes as one intern fans her with a palm leaf and another pours her a glass of lemonade.

“We don’t have to be anything!” Caesar insists, the handcuffs rattling against the radiator. “And if we are, maybe we’re something new entirely.”

“Something new?” Bonnie thinks for a moment, and then they sigh. “Listen… I’m not very good at understanding my feelings. I think we all know that.”

The peanut gallery participants look away nervously. They continue: “I don’t know how to put words to things, but I know I hate feeling like I’m supposed to feel a certain way. People put these crazy expectations on me, and then I get mad at myself when I can’t live up to them! It sucks!”

Caesar hangs his head a little and looks at the floor.

“But… you’re important to me,” Bonnie continues. “And I’m pretty [CENSORED] tired of trying to put words to that.”

Caesar breathes a sigh of relief. “God, me too,”

“Boooo! Boring!” Julia yells. Patrick joins her. “Get a room!”

A few of the peanut gallery members look to each other and nod, then rise from their seats and calmly walk across the stage.

“Hey!” Julia yells as Courtney and Michela grab her arms and start dragging her out of the room. “Hey! Wait!”

“Watch it!” Patrick hisses as Staci drags him out of the chair. “I break out when I’m stressed!”

Kelly rolls their eyes and slings him over their shoulder. Staci takes a selfie with Patrick’s flustered face and giggles. “This is gonna do numbers on my blog!”

The struggling hosts disappear backstage and are thrown into the soundproof chamber together. Julia screams in frustration and starts beating on the door.

Ass turns off the overhead monitor with a smirk and sits back down. The peanut gallery returns to their seats, with the exception of Sha-Mod and McLovin, who are busy trying to lock-pick Caesar’s handcuffs.

“I think you’re supposed to hear a click!” McLovin says, using a toothpick to shove around the keyhole.

Sha-Mod moves his ear against the cuffs and winces at the sound of a snap. He stands up as McLovin pulls out half a toothpick. “Oops,”

“Give me that,” Michela says, shoving between the two. She inspects the cuffs and then nods. “Joner, give me the tool box.”

Joner scurries over with a red metal box and sets it at her feet. She flips open the lid and pulls out a screwdriver. “Let’s hope you’ve been working on those arms,” she mutters to Caesar.

Bonnie winces at the sound of metal scraping against wood as Caesar walks over to the peanut gallery, dragging the radiator behind him. He sighs.

“Well. This is humiliating,”

The crowd turns to the left as the sound of arguing and struggling follows, and Courtney drags out Julia and Patrick behind them.

“Watch it, these glasses are expensive!”

“If I break out, it’ll be on your hands, freak!”

“SHUT IT!” Courtney snaps. The two are so scared at the sound of them raising their voice they both immediately go slack. “Now, don’t you two have something to say?”

They both cross their arms and grumble. “We’re sorry, Caesar,”

Julia continues. “You’re a good host,”

“And if you want to host the show… I guess I’ll allow it,”

Caesar smiles and places a hand over his heart. “Well, I accept your apology, and I accept your offer,” he then turns to Bonnie, holding their hand and getting down on one knee. “Bonnie… you are the most important person in my life, and this is probably the highest honor I can ask of anyone… will you be my co-host?”

Bonnie smiles. “I accept,”

The peanut gallery cheers as Bonnie and Caesar shake hands. A few producers in black suits come out from backstage with clipboards and papers to sign.

“But don’t expect us to be happy with this change,” Julia says, crossing her arms. “We’re going to be fighting you every step of the way.”

“I look forward to it!”

“You better not!” she snaps, balling her hands into fists. “Cause we’re working as a team now!”

Patrick puts a hand on Julia’s shoulder. “See, while we were locked in the sound-proof chamber together, Jules and I realized we have a lot in common…”

“Goals, enemies, skincare routines…”

“And we figured that if you and Bonnibel over here are going to chum it up, why can’t we?”

Courtney shudders. “God, you don’t mean-”

“That’s right,” they hold hands. “We’re an item now.”

Ass gags. Michela winces, even Frollo looks disturbed from the backstage corner he’s been reading his Bible in all episode.

Only Caesar doesn’t look bothered. “I only have one thing to say to you two- bring it on!”

The pairs glare at each other and the audience goes silent before the sound of the back doors opening catches their attention. Two police officers walk in with a drenched, handcuffed Kitty.

“Is this yours?”

#aftermath #tta #total takes action

18 notes · View notes

knightfire · 2 years

Note

11!!!!!! 👏👏👏

“You need to forgive yourself.”

The middle-aged man at the bar snorted into his rocks glass of Courvoisier. The grey streaking his temples caught the light over the bar like a glow. That was the way these days with the boss- well, former boss, now. Every damned flaw in the man lit up like it was framed in neon.

Goddamn it, the thought that at least Marie wasn’t around to see this should not be a reassuring one. The poor woman would have been heartbroken to see her son this low. She wouldn’t have forgiven herself or any of the other old timers that had stood by Miccy through the flush times and the lean for letting him come to this.

The kid who’d eagerly shadowed the talent every opportunity he got had grown up, lived the dream of making it big out of pure muleheadedness and spite… and then had stumbled from glory like a falling star.

If there was a Hell, Louie was sure he had earned his way in by not doing something to change things.

“Ain’t nothing t’ forgive”, the man at the bar muttered, voice slurred and coarse. “Ain’t no one’s fault that it worked out like this. Tha’s just how th’ cards fall sometimes. Ya win some, ya lose a whole fuckin’ casino some.”

The drunk man gestured grandly at the room they were in, laughing in a way that was painful and unpleasant to the ears.

Louie’s jaw twitched, raking his dentures against each other. He ran a hand over the bald curve of his head. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you your business, son..”

“Then do us both a favor an’ shut th’ fuck up,” the drinker growled like an acerbic alley cat. “Words ain’t gon’ help this shitshow. Either hit me again or cut me off. I lost a motherfucking casino today, and I need to be drunk, not lectured!”

The bartender made a sorrowful face, and picked up the bottle of cognac again. The Jackpot would have a new owner tomorrow, but for tonight, he’d humor his boss and friend.

At least Miccy wasn’t going to be on the streets, and that was a stroke of Luck both good and bad. It was charity, and it rankled the younger man, but it would keep a roof over his head. It also meant he had no reason to do the healthier thing for himself and move on, however.

Marie would be glad of it though, rest her soul. She had always worried herself about that boy and the scraps he got himself into.

Louie wondered if that thought was turning over in her son’s mind as well. “She wouldn’t blame you,” he offered.

“O’ Course she wouldn’t,” the man muttered from beneath his worn top hat. “Tha’s th’ worst part.”

Hours later, once the bottle was empty and Miccy was a spent husk of a man passed out on the bar, Louie signaled to a couple of the crew. They’d get him back to his penthouse to rest, and maybe tomorrow would be better. One could hope, at least.

The boy he’d watched grow up was a man, now. The problems he attracted had become so much bigger than the long-ago fights in the alley.

- A Wild second fill for this one appeared!-

“You need to forgive yourself.” Alastor’s words were soft, and somber. They still hit their target hard enough to make the younger demon flinch.

“That’s rich,” the preteen replied with a forced glib tone. “You first.”

Alastor sighed heavily at the rejoinder, and settled himself on the edge of the roof next to his son. The sky arced overhead in a lazy, loganberry mockery of infinity, with dimly sparkling stars set in its plush depths.

Were they true stars? He’d wondered that often when he’d first arrived in Hell. He thought to pose the question aloud, then decided against it.

His son wouldn’t recognize the difference or significance of the notion. The stars were stars, to him, even if they were not quite set in their familiar spots now.

“I should have known,” Chance muttered, and Alastor’s ears twitched.

“Should you?”

“I should have,” Chance affirmed. The creaky timbre of his voice refused to reveal itself as emotion or the scratchy evidence of recent abuse. “If I had..!”

“Most of us must experience betrayal to recognize the signs, my little love,” Alastor objected. His eyes remained firmly on the shimmering heavens as he spoke. “And sometimes, our hopes betray our hard-won knowledge and blind us to it.”

This boy, barely more than a child, dared want to take on responsibility for his failure? The insolent little scrap of a demon was ignorant about so much!

And he had willingly allowed that ignorance to fester, hadn’t he?

The fur and feather-lined edge of the child’s tail swatted idly at Alastor’s leg. Once. Twice. At the third blow, he reached over to flick the boy’s right ear, and earned a half-hearted laugh. It faded into a silence that was more comfortable, if no happier.

“This sucks, Papa,” Chance complained.

“Hm,” Alastor agreed. He reached out and his son leaned against his shoulder with a two-toned groan of discontent.

“Everything feels wrong,” the boy continued. “It’s not just that we moved. It’s.. it’s like… I don’t know!”

Alastor closed his eyes against the false sky that stretched above Hell. “It’s like the world has become a strange falsehood. It’s as if the world you know has been changed into a twisted version of the one you knew. You didn’t realize the parts of it that you took for granted until it was lost to you.”

Chance’s head bobbed against Alastor’s shoulder. “It sucks.”

“It does indeed,” Alastor conceded.

Perhaps the boy knew something of the falseness of these hellish stars, after all.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #radiohusk #hazbin hotel fanfiction #ask response #hearts proximity au #radiohusk au #radiohusk chance #some human times #some hellish times #angst

10 notes · View notes