Chapter Text
Lisa Wilbourne, known to those losers on the ‘right’ side of the law as Tattletale, had a problem. Well, more like a thousand individual problems and a pair of firm, round, amazing, earth-shattering (more literally than one would imagine) problems. Problems that were currently staring her right in her face.
…so to speak. Victoria Dallon was a very talented woman, but Lisa didn't think she could see out of her arse.
Yes, dear reader, Lisa had a fever. A fever for dat booty, a fever for Vicky's amazing arse, and she was about five seconds from sinking her teeth into Vicky's left arsecheek as a sign of ownership.
…granted, Lisa would probably need to spank Vicky first to break her forcefield, but that… hmm.
Lisa filed the sudden and vividly erotic mental image of bending Vicky over a table and spanking her until her stupidly nice arse glowed redder than Moscow back in the day in her nice, handy ‘Never Ever Think About This Again’ folder. That folder held a lot of awful things like Coil's maid outfit collection that had… odd stains on them, Kaiser's habit of pretending to be a Japanese schoolgirl while his wife fucked another man in front of him, and other things that generally injured one's mental stability.
‘...I am much too sober for this.’
Lisa did not normally drink alcohol, but around a woman like Vicky Dallon, she drank heavily. The booze was great for making her think more gooder, which was totally what Thinkers are for. Lisa frowned, glancing at and sniffing her glass.
“Alec?” Lisa said in a tone that made said French-Canadian Twink freeze up. “Alec, why is there Malort in the punch?”
Lisa's idiotic Canadian friend and wingman Alec ‘Please Ignore My Family Issues’ Vasil slunk over to Lisa, looking much like a cat caught in the cream. “We were out of whiskey and I used what we had.”
“Out? What do you mean, out?”
“Brian needed a drink after Taylor chose to use her bugs to…” Alec trailed off, an unsettled look on his face. Lisa grimaced, her power filling in the rest of the details.
“Oh. We really need to get her a book on personal space or something.” Lisa said mildly, trying not to reach for her emergency can of Raid.
“It's cute you think that would work~.” Taylor said, which was pretty impressive because she was more than a few blocks away from the small party Alec and Lisa had found themselves at. Lisa glanced around the room full of people, sighing when her power pointed out a small horde of insects in the ceiling of the grimy old house the party was being held in.
‘If she hadn't helped me feed Coil's guts to him until he died and hadn't helped get rid of the creepy bastard's maid outfits…’
Lisa sighed and gulped down the rest of her drink. She knew Taylor would've stopped her if it had been truly bad for her health. While Lisa didn't really like the idea of being open and honest with anyone, least of all women she was attracted to in a ‘goddamn you're violent but also pathetic like a wet cat’ way, the booze in her gut whispered to her that it was best to just get it out of the way.
‘Right.’ Lisa thought, glaring at the glorious glutes that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. ‘Time to go make an ass of myself in front of a pretty girl and her cuck- err, boyfriend.’
…
The old house that the party was being held in had been built in the latter half of the 19th century, somewhere between the 1880s and 1890s given that part of it had been rebuilt after a fire. Lisa's power had been happy to ramble on about the house, but all she really cared about was finding Vicky-
‘...well. that… that sure is Vicky's boyfriend. And Browbeat, and Young Adult Win (which I still think is a stupid name for a cape), and-’
Lisa did not want to think about just who was thrusting into whom or vice versa. She did not want to look at the glorious, sweaty, manly bara yaoi that was happening in front of her.
Why?
Because boys have cooties, duh.
…and Lisa's power was now telling her about the past STDs everyone involved in the Yaoi Orgy had once had. Given that most of the orgy worked for the PRT in some fashion, they were all clean at the moment thanks to Panacea. It wasn't that Lisa was judging anyone for doing anything per se, she just… really didn't want to know how long, thick, and hairy the Armsmeat was.
‘13 inches of… Focus. I need to focus.’
Lisa slipped into the nearest closet to have a nice, quiet, relaxing panic attack. This worked out wonderfully in the sense that she had both a panic attack and a mostly silent experience of doing so. Her peace all too quickly came to an end, however, as she heard a very familiar voice scream.
“DEAN WHAT THE FUCK?”
The door to Lisa's closet opened and slammed shut quickly, and Lisa did not have time to stand up from her position of sitting against the back wall of the closet before-
THUMP!
Lisa Wilbourne wasn't sure if this was heaven or hell, and she really didn't give much a shit at the moment. She- her head was absolutely, totally, completely swallowed up by the Glory Glutes, and all rational thought left Lisa's mind.
‘...goddamn!’
In Lisa's defense, she was quite literally pinned in place by the wall and the Brute Glutes currently taking over all of Lisa's senses. Normally Lisa hated being this close to people, hated what her power told her about them.
But this was Glory Girl. Glory Hole as Lisa often called her. Lisa's kinda-sorta nemesis ever since Coil bit the dust and Lisa took over his organization. Lisa knew she shouldn't feel like this, that she was breaking a million and one laws and moral mores, but…
Poke-CHOMP!
The good news was that Lisa hadn't broken her teeth.
The bad news was that Vicky was now very aware of Lisa's presence, and judging by the stormy look on her face, absolutely not in the mood for Lisa's bullshit.
“Tattletale.” Vicky snarled, sounding a lot more like her scary mother than Vicky normally did. “Why the fuck are you biting my asscheek?”
Lisa would've responded, but she didn't have any good answers at the moment. “I was being choked out by your fat ass and urghk?”
Ah.
Lisa had forgotten what it was like to get choked out for her mouthing off. A sudden fear ran through her, and Lisa could not help herself from rasping out, “Please tell me you don't have a maid kink.”
Vicky stared at Lisa with a look of complete incomprehension on her face. “What.”
“Coil… was a freak.” Lisa barely managed to whisper, the world going black in the corner of her vision as unconsciousness looked closer to her.
“Gross.” Vicky let Lisa go, the Thinker being too busy gasping for air and massaging her throat to be witty or sarcastic. “Are all of the Undersiders this fucked up?”
Lisa shuddered. “You don't want to know.”
“What, is it that-”
“Worse.” Lisa said, eyes firmly shut as she rocked back and forth in her spot on the closet floor. “So much worse than you could ever imagine.”
Vicky didn't say anything, but Lisa's power was a rude little bitch and told Lisa what Vicky was thinking about.
“Oh, ewww. Your mom lets your aunt do what with the orb-”
Vicky seized Lisa by the shoulders and pulled her up to look her in the eyes, face to face. Then she kissed Lisa. Vicky would've lied to herself and said it was just to shut Lisa up, but they both knew it was a bit more than that.
[Meanwhile, on the first floor of the party house]
Amy Dallon wasn't allowed to drink alcohol. It wasn't that she cared about the law, it was more that she tended to use her power when drunk. The last time she'd gotten drunk she'd created a monster out of leftover Halloween candy and french onion dip and her mom had never let the damage to the carpet go, even though it'd been two years since the Drunk Amy Incident and Amy was much more responsible now-
“Amy. Hey Amy, where's- hiccup -wheresh Vickgy? My. Girlfriend. Vickt. You seen her?”
Amy sneered. “Your breath reeks, Dean. I am not curing your hangover tomorrow.” Dean was visibly drunk off his ass and missing almost all clothing save a lacy red thong and a single sock, though he'd attempted to supplement this via stealing a shower curtain and wrapping it around himself like a toga. Sadly, Dean had forgotten about said shower curtain being translucent.
The sight was not inspiring.
Dean frowned at Amy, looking much like a toddler in the way that severely intoxicated people tend to do. “Did somebody make you mad, Amy? Do- do I need to beat them up?” Dean asked, looking like he'd lose a fight to a rubber band, let alone another human being at the moment.
Amy sighed. It just wasn't nice to pick on the stupid or the severely drunk, and Dean was both of those things at the moment. “No, Dean. Nobody needs to get beaten u- agajdj?!?” Amy was cut off by a bunch of freezing cold water being poured onto her head. She whirled, finding an infuriatingly pretty twink holding an empty glass behind her. “What the fuck, dude?”
The twink blinked, his pupils blown wide open. He was clearly high as a kite, and he was wavering on his feet. Amy barely managed to avoid the twink as he fell face first into Dean's lap.
“...huh. It's not the same without dad's power.” The twink muttered, and a spark of fear ran through Amy. That sounded familiar and she couldn't figure out why, and that bugged her massively. “Also, why is my face resting on a shower curtain?”
“You fell.”
The twink glared up at Amy. “I know that. Why is there a shower curtain instead of a cuck couch?”
A what.
“What the fuck?” Amy asked, Dean following a moment later.
“A cuck couch.” The twink said like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You um… you look like the sort to spend time on one.”
Amy wasn't sure what that meant but knew it was probably insulting. Her face reddened, and she reached towards the twink…