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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

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A gift for @thenegoteator :D

It took a Temple to raise a child, and Mace Windu was very much aware of this. However, it did not explain what Ahsoka Tano was doing at his door in the middle of the night. Ahsoka had deep bags under her eyes, which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering the current living arrangements of her lineage. While little Luke and Leia were relatively well-behaved newborns, they were still only a few weeks old. If their human caretakers didn’t wake up at every single little whimper, then the togruta with the superior hearing certainly would.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mace asked, not letting his confusion show. He was used to people coming to his door at the oddest hours.

“If—if I can?” Ahsoka replied as if only now becoming aware of her actions. In this, she reminded Mace of her Grandmaster and the many nights Mace had found Obi-Wan coming to his doorstep during the first months of Anakin’s stay at the Temple.

“My door is always open, Padawan,” Mace said – and watched her wince.

Ah.

So there was the problem.

“Caleb is currently sleeping in my bed as Depa is away,” Mace explained. “So please keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake him unnecessarily.”

The boy had already had a hellish enough month behind him, he needed all the rest he could get. Even though the war was officially over, enough planets refused to surrender, drawing out the battles until they had nothing but children left to sacrifice. It weighed on Mace’s shoulders, making him wonder whether he wasn’t too old to carry such burdens still.

Ahsoka nodded and followed Mace inside. He couldn’t recall whether Ahsoka had been in his room before, but from the way she eagerly looked around his quarters, taking in the sight of old instruments, books, and holos, he guessed she hadn’t. Well, at one point in their life, every Jedi had set a foot inside Mace’s quarters, so this was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ahsoka tore herself away from the sight and looked at him with surprise. “I—yes? That would be nice.”

“Then I will make a cup. Do you have any preferences? I believe I even have Obi-Wan’s favorite blend here.”

Mace had no idea whether he had bought it or if Obi-Wan had just left it here from himself when he came over. Knowing the other man, it was likely that the latter was the case. For a man claiming to be so very polite, Obi-Wan could be a right brat.

Mace’s kitchen was small, with only a few cabinets and one shelf, two cooking tiles, and an oven. He wasn’t much of a cook himself and preferred to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, frequently taste-tasting what the Initiates had prepared. He selected two uneven cups Depa had made for him when she’d been young from the shelf. Why she had decided to pick up pottery of all hobbies was beside him, but he supposed that she found the motion soothing. Devan did enjoy parkouring through the lower levels and Echuu was quite content playing the guitar to calm himself.

Perhaps Mace should focus less on why all three of his Padawans had decided they wouldn’t follow him into theatre so they could continue to make fun of him. Setting the water to boil, Mace searched through his cabinets until he found Obi-Wan’s favorite blend. The fruity tea was far from the blend he preferred, but Mace prided himself on being a good host. While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Mace enjoyed the quiet of the night. For all that there were few sounds as dear to him as that of people walking, or in the case of some younglings and few selected Knights, running, down their large hallways, Mace could appreciate the quiet when the world came to rest.

With two finished cups in hand, he returned to the living room, where he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, no longer studying his quarters for any hidden secrets.

“Thank you,” she said when she accepted the cup from him. She held it in her hands as if to warm them, letting the steam hit her face. She breathed in once, twice, finding her rhythm again. Mace waited until she’d calmed enough to speak up.

“What brings you to my door, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka flinched and appeared to make herself even smaller as if attempting to vanish. When it became apparent that it didn’t work, that silence hadn’t been what she had sought him out for, she let out a sigh. “You keep calling that.”

“Calling you what?” Mace asked, his brow raised, playing oblivious.

“… Padawan.”

“Are you not? I was under the impression that you had returned to the Temple.”

“I did, but I still left,” Ahsoka replied. “I left and I was convinced that I had to leave and that it was good that I did. I still think I had to leave the Temple behind.”

“Then why are you torn?”

Ahsoka’s hold on her cup tightened and so, perhaps in wise anticipation, she set it on the table and buried her hands in her robes instead, hiding their twitching from view. Mace could trace all her mannerisms to her teachers and couldn’t imagine what it must be like to purposefully rip all those pieces from yourself when they had become so ingrained in your very being. Even Dooku, who’d fallen so far from their beliefs, had been unable to fully rid himself of Yoda’s lessons. Maybe it was for the best. Hope had become a scarce commodity during the war, yet Mace considered the possibility that in a decade, they wouldn’t be imprisoning a Sith anymore.

“But am I still a Padawan? A member of this Order?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she shook like the leaves on the trees in the courtyard.

“Has your Master told you anything different?”

Ahsoka paused. “…. No.”

Seeing that realization was settling within her, Mace nodded. “Then you should not doubt him. You are a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and you will remain one as long as you live by our tenets.”

That teased a startled laugh from her. “Compassion for all except people who cheat at push-n-pull?”

As if transported back ten years, hearing Anakin say the same, Mace snorted. “The similarities between you and your Master astonish me every time. Yes, Padawan Tano, compassion for all.”

This seemed to calm the youth as she reached for her cup again and emptied it slowly. “It’s good.”

Mace smiled into his own cup. “I’d be insulted if it wasn’t. Obi-Wan forced me to memorize all the steps for making it.”

The then young Knight had been frazzled, and Mace honestly couldn’t tell what it had been about and had forced Mace to learn how to make this tea until he’d more or less collapsed on Mace’s sofa, completely knocked out until morning when Anakin had picked him up.

“He does do that,” Ahsoka agreed. “I think this is the only thing anyone can make reliably now.”

“Sleep-deprived much?” Mace inquired.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I love Luke and Leia dearly, but they are demanding and need a lot of attention.”

That was honestly kinder than Mace would have described newborns at her age.

“There is a reason why we usually don’t have children this young in the Temple,” Mace said. “They are very handful. Do you get enlisted to help very often?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, Obi-Wan, Skyguy, and Padmé got it covered, and I’m mostly just helping out somewhere else.”

She trailed off a little. This, perhaps, was another issue, but one that could be equally easily dealt with.

“Thank you then for going where you are needed,” Mace told her.

Ahsoka blinked. “Huh?”

“You will grow into a specific role someday, Ahsoka, and that needs time. Do not feel as if you need to earn back your place in the Temple. You don’t need to earn yourself a home you have always had. For now, trust me when I say that everyone you’ve helped is glad that you were there. It is an admirable quality to have a sense of where you are needed. Do not see it as being the odd one out.”

This was the hardest lesson to teach and learn, the fact that there was a path out there for you, but that it took time to see where it would lead. Too many of their Padawans now felt utterly lost without the structure the war had provided them with.

“Oh. I guess if you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so,” Mace agreed. Then, eyeing Ahsoka’s empty cup, he added on, “do you want another?”

“No.” Ahsoka yawned. “I think I might best head back.”

“You can also sleep here if you want, and don’t mind Caleb hogging the blanket. I won’t go to bed tonight anyway.”

Ahsoka squinted at him as if attempting to discern whether he was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really—”

“Ahsoka, go to bed.”

Clearly feeling better already, she saluted and, after Mace showed her his bedroom, made herself comfortable in it. She took off her shoes and tossed her robe over a chair before climbing into the bed. Ahsoka had barely laid down when Caleb already turned around to curl around her, clinging like a little monkey. After a moment’s apprehension, she relaxed and was fast asleep. Stealing one last glance at the two Padawan, Mace returned to his living room, looking through the incoming reports.

Hectic as the aftermath of the war was, as much effort as caring for their children was, Mace wouldn’t trade it for a single thing in the world.

#star wars #mace windu #ahsoka tano #jedi #light fix it verse #fanfic

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bunnykawa · 4 years

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what are you doing, step bro? (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: To your parents, Sakusa was the greatest son. To you, he was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, but you could only find that out with a little force.

a/n: i literally just started college so i won't have much time to write but i have some stories in my drafts that'll be posted in awhile lol. should i open requests for haikyuu drabbles since they're short but still entertaining?? idek i feel like no one is reading this rn LOL but if anyone is reading this, lmk ;)

(edit: I HAD TO REPOST THIS CS IT WASNT SHOWING UP IN TAGS so sorry if you already liked this post)

warnings: 18+, incest, mentions of drugging, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of parental neglect, noncon/dubcon/rape, sakusa is a dirty pervert i just don’t know how else to tag this, degradation, slight manipulation

"(Y/N), this is your new big brother, Kiyoomi," your mother said, holding tightly onto your small shoulders as you stood in front of her.

"You can refer to him as your nii-san from now on." Locking eyes with you was an older boy with long black wavy hair, two moles on the right side of his forehead, and a white face mask on the lower half of his face which blocked his nose and mouth. How odd, you thought. You could tell he was disinterested with how his eyes were blank as he stared at you.

That was the first time meeting your step brother, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

Being four years younger than Sakusa, you two never really got along. Of course you had to respect each other, but there was nothing to really talk about other than when his volleyball games were or unfulfilling small talks. Sometimes he would make snide remarks, asking if you even showered when your hair was only slightly messy or if a smart word ever came out of your mouth when you stumbled over your words. Sometimes he was just mean to you in general to the point where you would cry. You always tried to ignore it, though. That was when you were younger. You couldn’t help that you weren’t that smart and he was your nii-san after all. Your parents would brush it off.

You celebrated his victories together, only because you had to. I mean, you were the younger sister of one of the nation's top three aces in high school volleyball. There was no way your parents wouldn't celebrate. He was their pride and joy.

Smart, athletic, incredibly attractive — everything you felt like you could never live up to.

Your own biological mom so obviously and painfully liked him more than you.

Before you even entered high school, Sakusa was old enough to move out and go to college where he continued to play volleyball. When he visited during the holidays, you still wouldn't have decent conversations with him. He would still insult you. It even made you cringe when you had to call him nii-san. Why address him as your older brother when he didn't even act like it?

But you dealt with it because you had to.

Fresh out of Itachiyama Academy, you're focused on studying for entrance exams for colleges in your area rather than what would happen if you ever had to see Sakusa again. But, you were expecting to see him very soon.

Gentle knocks are heard from outside your door and before you can respond, your mom is already opening it.

"(Y/N), Omi is coming today and he's gonna be here for a week. I have to go to the grocery store to buy food and I'm gonna run other errands so it's gonna take awhile," she says, leaning her head into your room. You respond multiple times with "okay" so she can leave your room sooner.

Textbooks and notebooks are strewn across your bed with you on your stomach, trying to cram as much information in your head as possible.

"That means I might not be here in time for when he comes, so you have to open the door and greet him," she adds.

"What about dad?" you ask with a grimace. The most you would do is say hello and scurry back into your room.

She rolls her eyes at you. "He's working late again. You know that, (Y/N)." With a sigh, you agree and she finally leaves your room after bidding you a "goodbye."

You can't remember the last time you saw Sakusa, but it was probably almost half a year ago. Ever since he left for college, your parents were even more distant towards you. They probably felt like they didn't need to worry about you because you weren't doing anything important.

When Sakusa came over, he barely acknowledged you and you were okay with that because it meant he wouldn't be bothering you.

But that didn't mean his blank stare wouldn't catch your attention whenever you came out of your room to eat or use the restroom. The atmosphere felt...very odd around him. You couldn't necessarily come up with a reason why.

Suddenly, you hear knocking on the front door. It had to be at least an hour or two since your mom left and the thought of who was waiting at the door made your stomach churn.

"Nii-san is here," you mutter to yourself as you got up to open the door. Right as you open the door, Sakusa was staring down at you with the same blankness in his eyes from before with his usual face mask. His hair was shorter than you remember.

Mindlessly, his eyes seem to scan your body before returning to your face, making you feel self-conscious. You were only wearing black spandex shorts and a loose tank top. Subconsciously, you rub your arm and step back to make space.

"(Y/N)," Sakusa acknowledges you in a deadpan voice. It's no surprise to you.

"Hi, onii-san. How are you?" You try so hard to be polite, but Sakusa seemed to have a naturally dominant energy that overwhelmed your senses, even if he also seemed to have the personality of a jar of mayonnaise. You step aside so he can come in. He wore gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker that was zipped up all the way. As soon as he makes it inside, he removes his face mask, stuffs it in his pocket, and starts unzipping his jacket.

"I'm good," he hums, "Where's mom?" He places the backpack he was carrying on the couch and takes a seat as you close the door.

"She's out doing errands and dad is working. Do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please. Make sure you wash your hands before you do. Thank you," he said. You walk into the kitchen, muttering "germaphobe" under your breath at his extra request. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you from his place on the couch as you walked around the kitchen, pulling the tea kettle out of one of the bottom cabinets and looking for cups. His gaze followed the outline of your ass in those tiny shorts that hugged your bottom tightly.

"What college are you planning on going to, (Y/N)?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm applying to the college you're going to and three others," you replied from your spot near the counter.

Sakusa actually perks up at your answer. "Oh, cool. You'll love it there if you get in. Only if, though. You're not the brightest."

You couldn't help but let your face fall in a frown at his seemingly small comment. Quickly, you compose yourself and brush off his remark. You got the water boiling in the tea kettle and reached high for the teacups that were sitting on the top cabinets. Your stepdad definitely put them up there.

A presence looms close behind you, which makes your whole body automatically freeze and tense up. A veiny, bulky arm reaches up easily to grab the teacups while another one snakes around you to pull your tank top down as it was exposing your stomach. You're not sure if you're imagining it, but you definitely feel something stiff brushing up against your back.

"You need to be careful. Don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" Sakusa commented, leaning forward so his mouth was right next to your ear. A blush found its way onto your cheeks from feeling him so close to you.

He usually hated being so close to people. What was so different today?

"R-right," you stuttered, "Thank you, nii-san."

Confrontation wasn't a strong trait of yours.

You guess that moment was when it started getting really weird between you two. You still had small talks from whenever he would actually see you come out of your room, but you wanted to avoid him as much as you could. However, that was hard when Sakusa insisted that you drank tea together every night and, of course, your parents insisted, too.

Your nii-san wants to spend more time with you, they would say excitedly. Better late than never!

Maybe if he was showing the slightest bit of interest in you, your parents would finally care about you. So, with much hesitation, you started drinking tea with your step brother every night. Sakusa even made the tea himself so his poor little sister wouldn't tire herself out with carrying that heavy teapot.

You're still not sure if you're imagining things, but the tea tasted different from how you made it. And you swear that the tea didn't make you so sleepy after drinking it until he started making it.

"Come here," Sakusa would say with a smirk, "Onii-san will take you to bed."

You would pass out before you even made it to bed, but every morning you woke up with sticky thighs, only blaming it on sweating while you were sleeping.

Until one day, you didn't drink all the tea that he made you. You still fell asleep, though. Your brain was hazy enough to make you lose consciousness as he helped you up from your seat in the kitchen.

Sakusa laid next to you on your bed. You were placed on your side so he could slide under the sheets right behind you to press his hardened length against your ass. This was his favorite part of the night. He spent a few minutes playing with your cunt to make it slick enough for him to let his cock break through your walls.

You barely stirred awake. Didn't even move an inch as he caressed every part of your body, from your soft nipples to the sensitive nub between your thighs.

He pushed the elastic of his sweatpants down to his thighs quickly. His cock hit your ass before settling between your folds. A satisfied moan leaves his lips when he feels your wetness coating the top part of his shaft as he rubbed it against you. He hooked his arm around one of your legs so that you were spread open enough for him to fuck you and rub your clit at the same time with his other hand.

He wanted that sweet nectar completely coating his dick. He remembers the way you tasted and how you came on his tongue the night before, despite being blacked out from the little pills he would dissolve in your drinks. You tasted so clean and smelled so fresh. It was impossible for your nii-san to control himself around you.

And when did your ass look so good? God...Sakusa couldn't believe he never noticed how cute and well-shaped you were. You weren't that little girl he met when you were both kids. You were pushing adulthood now. Still pathetic looking, still too shy, still small around him, but fuck, he definitely would have pushed you over the counter the first day he came over and fucked you until you were crying and gagging.

He continued rubbing circles onto your clit and letting his cock soak up your juices. Gently, he positions the tip at your entrances and pushes in slowly.

"There you go," he whispers in your ear, "I know it's a little big. Don't worry."

He manages to fill you up all the way, making him groan. Your walls were tight around him. He thrusts in and out of you carefully, salvaging the feeling of your slick interior.

But you didn't drink all the tea, which means that you could wake up earlier than he expected.

Sakusa didn't expect you to wake up now.

You stirred slightly as you regained consciousness. Although your eyelids were heavy, you tried to force them open only to be met with darkness.

"Mmm," you croaked, rubbing your eyes. The odd feeling of being filled up suddenly made you wake up more. "W-what's going on?"

"Fuck," Sakusa muttered from behind you. You felt a hard chest pressed against your back and...a hand on your pussy. No, something inside your pussy. And that voice was so familiar.

You quickly whip your head around when the realization dawns on you. What the fuck is happening? While your eyes adjust to the dark room, you see two familiar eyes staring straight back at you. He stopped grinding his hips against you for a moment as if time stopped.

"...Nii-san?" you hesitated. His breathing was heavy and he stayed silent.

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" you asked in a panicked voice. You quickly tried to get up from your position, only to be held down by Sakusa’s muscular arms. His hand wrapped itself over your lips to prevent you from screaming.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, (Y/N),” he whispered. A muffled scream tries to escape your lips. He continued to fuck you slowly, leaving a burning feeling in your walls. The same sore feeling that you would sometimes wake up to within the past few days.

For a moment, you pry his fingers off of your mouth. "I don't understand...Why are you...?" You yelped in surprise, horror, and pleasure as he delivered a sharp thrust from behind you. The smack of his hips against your bare ass made you cringe and feel so disgusted with yourself. Nii-san is actually inside me.

"My poor little sister," he chucked darkly. He suddenly wraps his arm around your knee tighter and forces your legs wide open, your knee almost touching your chest. Instead of putting his hand over your mouth to shut you up, he kneads your breast. His hands were so large.

"You think you can walk around the house looking like a little slut in those tiny shorts?" He stretches you open with his hard cock with slow, yet hard, thrusts. It left your mouth agape, but no sounds left your throat except for small squeaks that you couldn't hold back. "You stupid bitch. Just as dumb as I could remember. Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to bend you over and fill you up with my cum like the stupid, desperate slut you are."

He was satisfied as you were barely fighting him. All you did was desperately search for something to hold onto and bite your lip because you were so scared. His words were painful. "Look at you. A waste of fucking space, only good as a fuck hole. Didn't even realize she was getting drugged and getting fucked every night because she's so fucking stupid."

Weak. That was all your brain was telling you, mocking you, as Sakusa didn't stop moving against you and insulting you. This wasn't the first time. It just so happened that this time you were able to wake up.

"I-I..." you stuttered, "I'll...I'll tell mom and dad." The sheets were gripped tightly between your fingers. "I'll tell them- mmmm...what nii-san has been doing to me..."

"If you tell mom and dad, they wouldn't even care," Sakusa said in a patronizing tone. The way his hand was caressing you made you wanna cry.

“They would!”

"Mom and dad don't even treat you like a daughter, (Y/N). When was the last time they told you they loved you?" Even if his question was rhetorical, your mind went completely blank. You can't recall a moment where they ever told you they loved you.

"B-but, this isn't right! You're not supposed to be doing this," you argued. It was a surprise that your mind wasn't completely clouded by how big his cock was and how his thrusts felt almost hateful.

"You think they would choose your side? You'd be ruining your own life. Maybe you'd ruin mine. And it'd be. All. Your. Fault." With each syllable, his movements became sharper. "You don't wanna betray your nii-san by saying something, do you?"

"You love your nii-san, right?"

You do. You love him so much, even if you tried to avoid him and he never said a single good thing to you in your whole damn life.

Because you have to love him.

You stopped gripping on the sheets to the point where your knuckles were turning ghostly white to brush away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body shook, from both crying because of Sakusa's painful words and how hard he was fucking you. The pleasure building up in your core was overwhelming you, making that intense feeling of having to pee forced out of you.

Hearing your sniffles and small cries, Sakusa pulls you even tighter against him, but doesn't stop his relentless thrusting. It turned him on even more. He pushes your hand to brush away your tears for you, like good big brothers should.

"It's okay, (Y/N). We both know mom and dad don't love you."

A loud cry erupted from your chest. Maybe if your parents cared about you, they'd be running to your room to save you the second you started crying. But, no. Sakusa was basking in the fact that you were hurting on the inside. After years of negligent silence, you were finally letting it all out.

"But nii-san loves you," he said with a smile.

Although his words seemed to stun your entire being, you manage to choke out a "What?" Like it was the first time someone ever told you that they love you.

His torturous thrusts almost distracted you. Fuck, why did it feel so good to have your step brother fucking you on your side like this?

"I love you." He sweetly grabs your face so you can turn your head to look at him. There was a pounding in your ears coming straight from your chest. A warm feeling spreads throughout your stomach.

"You...you love me, nii-san?"

"Of course I do." He was actually smiling at you, "If I didn't, would I be inside you right now?"

His face didn't seem so blank anymore. Sakusa never ever smiled at you. Hell, he never really smiled in general. Someone actually loved you. Holy shit. And he was even pounding away at your insides like you were a fuck doll.

Is that why he's so mean? Was he just trying to hide his feelings for you this whole time? You could die laughing right now. His cock felt so damn good rearranging your guts against your will yet you were struggling to accept it.

Your cheeks naturally puffed up in happiness as you smiled so brightly at him. The flip switched in your brain so easily. Without another word, Sakusa kissed you passionately, because he knew you would let him continue to ravage your body. Your hips began to buck from the pressure building up in your lower half and you starting pushing your hips towards him, welcoming his length inside you. It felt like you needed more of him. More of his love.

Love me.

"Nii-san," you gasped against his lips. His movements never faltered, which you figured was from his amazing athletic ability and stamina.

"Be a good little sister and cum on my cock," he coaxed. He could tell you were so close to cumming from how tightly your precious cunt was hugging his length and how you were squirming against him. You were both slick with sweat. As you started squirming more violently against him, Sakusa tightened his grip on you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined desperately, “Nii-san, I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed his arms and pushed your fingernails into his skin, making him hiss from the sudden pain. With a firm grip over your mouth, he muffles your screams. Satisfaction settled in your stomach as you exploded all over his cock. Your sweet juices trailed down your thighs onto the bedsheets.

As much as Sakusa wanted to, he couldn’t fill up your insides and see your hole dripping with his cum just yet. He quickly pulls out of you and lets his seed shoot onto the bare skin of your ass. The shock of your orgasm left your thighs trembling, your skin wet, and your eyes drooping.

“You’re the best little sister.”

You would’ve replied, but you could barely form any words as you lost consciousness again. When you woke up the next morning, you were fully dressed and cleaned up, with no stickiness between your thighs like how you used to wake up.

Sakusa actually cleaned you up this time. You felt your heart melt and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Everything seemed to go back to normal between you two, with the same small talks and not really seeing each other often, but he always had a knowing smirk on his face whenever he saw you.

Whenever his eyes would trail up your body to meet yours, you could feel a warmth in your stomach spread all throughout your body which forced you to look away quickly. Whenever he insulted you, you would feel your thighs press together. Whenever you caught yourself admiring his features when he replaced his face mask for a new one, you smiled softly to yourself.

When it was time for him to leave, you couldn’t help but let a few tears shed. He was all set to go, with his backpack on and his mask covering his face.

“Hey, don’t cry, (Y/N),” he cooed, wiping your tears away, “You know I won’t be gone forever.”

You sniffled, “I know. I just hate being here alone.” Well, not necessarily alone. You just hated being ignored and neglected just because you weren’t your brother.

“If you manage to get into my college, you can move in with me. How does that sound?” You instantly perk up and dry your tears with your shirt.

"Really?!” you asked with excitement. You imagine all the things you could do with your nii-san without your parents in the picture. You could go out together, hold hands, share kisses, just about anything. He could even fuck you whenever he wants.

These thoughts about your own step brother would've made you feel sick before.

But that was before you knew Sakusa loved you. Now, you couldn't help but ask your mom when the next time your nii-san would be coming to visit. While you were waiting for his next visit, you studied hard.

College would be so much fun with your nii-san with you!

Part 2

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Aloha, PT. 3 of this piece comin' at you with supersonic speed

**********************************************************************

She balanced the tin of cupcakes in one hand and opened the door with the other, already more than nervous as she stepped into GCPD. Some of the officers smiled and nodded at her while others merely watched as she walked up to the desk and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted. “Is Commissioner Gordon here? I’d like to speak with him.”

The man’s eyes went from the cupcake tin to her face and he asked. “Can I ask what for?”

“Oh, yes, I just need to speak with him about something…involving Batman’s, uh…helpers?” she winced. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

He cocked a brow, but shrugged and grabbed the phone, pushing a button. “Sir, you’ve got someone here to see you…no sir, she just said it dealt with Batman and the others…understood sir.” He hung the phone up. “He’ll over soon.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, and waited for the detective to arrive. When he did, she held her hand out, “Commissioner Gordon?”

He shook her hand. “Good evening, young lady. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m (Y/N) and um…it’s a bit complicated actually.”

“We live in a city with men and women who dress up in costumes and fight insane clowns.” He snorted. “We do complicated around here.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and nodded. “That’s fair, Commissioner Gordon.” She raised the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “This is going to be really weird, but I was wondering if I could use the spotlight to…call one of them.”

Gordon’s eyes drifted from the cupcakes to her, then back to the desserts. “You wanna use the Bat-Signal to get one of them…so you can give them cupcakes?”

Her mouth opened and closed, then she admitted, “Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head.” She sighed. “It’s not crazy, I swear but—”

“Why don’t you follow me to my office, and we can talk about this, hmm?” he asked, and she nodded.

“That sounds great, sir.” She followed close behind him to a closed-off room and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to sit in his chair.

“So,” he started when he sat down. “Start from the beginning of why you wanna give Batman cupcakes.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and she murmured, “Nightwing. I want to give them to Nightwing, actually.” He cocked a brow but said nothing and she cleared her throat. “So, the other week, Nightwing helped me out with something and to repay the debt, I made these.”

“What’d he help you with?” Gordon questioned and she played with the hem of her sweater.

“Uh, he…he, um, helped me with a um…a really embarrassing rejection.” She waved her hand. “And I sobbed like a baby on his shoulder and I just wanna give him these in return and tell him sorry for taking up his valuable time.” (Y/N)’s cheeks felt like they were on fire and she begged, “Please let me use the signal to call and I’ll leave. Promise, sir.”

Gordon watched her for a moment then he chuckled and rose from his desk. “I’ve been doing this for about forty years, and nothing has ever been this funny in my entire life.” She sighed, thinking a ‘no’ was coming and he stood beside her. “Come with me to the elevator and we’ll go up.”

(Y/N) blinked in disbelief. “Wait, what? You’re going to let me?”

“Of all the things I’ve ever had someone come in and ask for? Delivering cupcakes is a new one. And I pride myself on getting the new ones.” He smiled. “Come on.”

Not wanting to blow her chance, she hurried after him with a big smile on her face and soon she was standing next to the giant spotlight, watching it silhouette against the night sky. She waited for a moment, then asked, “So how long does this usually take?”

He grunted. “Takes longer when you ask how long it takes.”

“That makes sense,” she laughed, and someone cleared their throat behind them. Both her and Gordon startled, though his reaction was less noticeable than hers, whereas she jumped a foot in the air.

“Red Hood,” Gordon greeted, holding out a hand to shake. “Good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you as well, Commissioner Gordon.” Red Hood replied. “Big-Bat in charge sent me here to see what was going on. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, motioning to (Y/N). “You’ve got a visitor.”

The vigilante turned to her as if finally noticing her presence and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) held out the cupcake tin to him. “I was wondering if you could give these to Nightwing.”

Red Hood glanced down at the cupcakes. “Why’d you make cupcakes for that jerk-off?”

She was shocked to hear such an insult and she bit out, “Well maybe because I wanted to, jerk-off.” He was probably scowling at her from behind that mask, but she wasn’t going to back down. “Nightwing did me a favor last week and I always repay my debts.” (Y/N) held out the tin again. “Will you please give these to him and tell him thank you for his pep-talk?”

Red Hood took the tin from her, asking quietly, “What’d he help you with?”

“Oh my God, why does everyone wanna know?” she griped, then exhaled through her nose. “Fine, I got rejected by a guy I’m in love with, and I boohooed like a baby on a park bench with Nightwing holding my hand like a parent to a child and being super sympathetic.” (Y/N) glared, though she appeared flustered. “Are you happy now, Red Hood?”

“Be a lot happier if you weren’t giving my brother cupcakes,” he muttered under his breath and looked at her. “Do you want the Tupperware back?”

She nodded. “Just tell him that I’ll be back at the bench on Friday this week to pick it up. Same time as the other week.”

“I’ll tell him,” Red Hood said with a rather annoyed tone and started back towards the other side of the building.

“Red Hood!” she called out and he paused, glancing back at her. “Look…I know you’re busy with other things. So…thank you for doing this. Really, I appreciate it.”

He shook his head, murmuring softly, “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” And he was gone.

Gordon walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Miss (Y/N)? Are you alright?”

She blinked and nodded, though she felt a great deal of confusion as she said, “He knew my name?”

***

Jason watched his brothers dig into the cupcakes, groaning about how good they were. He didn’t even need to eat the one he had in his hand because he knew. He knew she made the best baked goods he’d ever had, especially these ones which were her specialty. Double Dutch Chocolate Cupcakes with little pink, shimmering pearls. She put them on because she thought they were cute.

He glanced down at the cupcake in his hands, asking, “How do you know, (Y/N), Dick?”

The eldest brother paused midchew and stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. “Huh?”

“Cupcakes,” Jason said, gesturing to them. “She made them as a thanks to you. For last week.” He looked at his brother. “What for?”

Dick swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and nonchalantly replied, “Oh, nothing big. Just being friendly.” He shrugged. “How do you know her?”

Jason scowled. “Don’t do that shit. We both know how I know her.”

“Oh, right! The rejection after the flowers and book!” Dick exclaimed, taking another bite. “So, why’d you say no anyway? She seems like great girl.”

“She is,” he agreed. “The greatest.”

Tim elbowed Dick in the ribs, murmuring, “Is this Jason admitting he’s in love?”

“I don’t know,” Dick replied. “Jaybird, if you’re this pissed at me—”

“I’m not pissed,” he retorted, very much so pissed. “I just don’t want her getting involved with this.”

Dick’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “So that’s why you rejected her. You’re afraid of letting her know about everything.” He hummed knowingly. “See, she said that was probably it. That you’re scared.”

“What?” Jason’s eyes widened. “What’d she say to you?” He handed his younger brother a thumb drive. “What’s this?”

“Recording of the conversation I had with her last Friday,” he replied. “I was planning on giving it to you later tonight.” Dick laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder and murmured, “She’s not going to run away if you’re vulnerable with her Jason.” He nodded to the flash drive. “She’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for.” Dick patted his shoulder and took the cupcake from Jason’s other hand, biting into it. “Oh my God,” he groaned, walking off. “What does she put in these things? They’re addicting.”

***

I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.

Jason put his forehead on the desk and stared at the floor, not really sure what was tightening worse, his chest or his throat, but something in the mix started hurting and he let out a shaky breath, vision blurring and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Rejecting her affections meant she forgot about him. She forgot that he existed, and she stayed safe. She stayed alive. Jason wanted that. He wanted (Y/N) to grow old with someone and have a family, not die an early death at the hands of some crazed villain or worse, a failure of his saving.

He let out a low groan and rubbed his forehead against the desk, wishing that it would solve all his problems. Mostly the ones in his broken heart. They had texted each other and video called constantly. Usually meeting up once a week to hang out somewhere or go get dinner. His entire life had changed in one conversation, and the only thing he regretted more than telling her he didn’t feel the same way and making her cry was watching her lie that she hadn’t been bothered when he knew deep down that her heart was shattered. He knew it because he watched her breakdown in her car through the manor window before she pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe Dick was right though…and that thought made him wanna vomit because younger-brother syndrome was a real thing and listening to your older brother wasn’t fun. But if she were that honest with Nightwing, that real with him, then maybe he could tell her the truth. All of it. About everything he was hiding from her. His past and most importantly his feelings for her. Maybe he could really keep her safe if he did.

Maybe Jason could be the one she grew old with. The one who held her hand and loved her.

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nesswritings · 3 years

Text

A simple statement was all that it took for him to become another rising scandal. I hate periods, somehow captured by a sensitive microphone at the press event. All downhill from there, to the amusement of some and to the shock and horror of others. Atsumu Miya was quickly labelled as a misogynist, from that simple sentence.

“Yeah, I’ve been laughing my ass off, dumbass. What else am I supposed to do?” Atsumu whines at the lack of sympathy from his brother, waving Kiyoomi off as the head popped in. It was his conversation with his brother to try and figure out how the hell he was supposed to clear the air without anything changing about him, but they hadn’t come up with any good ideas. While it boosted his confidence to not be viewed in any other light, it also tore him down a bit. This was the one story getting coverage, the one that would remind him of how he was born. The first night had already been rough, and he wanted this over with. “If I say I’m a misogynist, how bad would that be?” “Damn awful, considering how much of a mama’s boy you are.” The two shared a laugh, with Atsumu ignoring the quiet whispers from Osamu’s side of the phone. Some secret that would be kept, but hopefully not for long. “Do I have to come out?”

“No.” Osamu was firm with this one, sighing and standing up to pace around his own place. His eyes fell on the clock, trying to find any way possible to reassure his brother. “Your doctors know and Sakusa knows, right? And whoever else needs to? That should be enough. What about your teammates?” The silence on the other end told him the other story, the insult narrowly being held back. “Maybe drop some hints, see what happens. Gotta go. Love you, Tsumu, don’t fuck this up. And take care of yourself.”

It added some warmth to his chest to hear his brother speak like that, and the takeout bags in Kiyoomi’s hands added to that feeling. Loved all around for who he was now, not who he used to be and not who he would be in the future. Tomorrow at practice would be a better day, he was certain of it.

Two days post-scandal, and it was still bad. Meian only gave a disapproving shake of his head, Kiyoomi was constantly hiding back giggles and knowing smiles, and Atsumu had to deal with all the different moods in one building. And hold back his complaints that he would easily unload into Sakusa’s ears, but he couldn’t get more heat for it now. But, he had hope that practice would help them forget, and they would bond and this would get buried.

“Why don’t you like periods, Atsumu? There’s nothing bad about them.” Bokuto spoke in their stretch circle, despite the warning from Meian to behave and count like they should. His hair flopped as he reached towards his toes, his eyes peeking out between strands. “You can still have sex during their periods, lots of ladies enjoy that.”

“Some find it gross though.” Hinata added, the two of them oblivious to the glares from Meian and the snickers that threatened to leave Kiyoomi’s mouth. “You know, this one time when I was in Brazil, I found this woman who was an absolute demon during her period. Not the angry type, but the horny type, y’know? I’m surprised I came out alive. But the vibrator probably helped. Is that your problem, Atsumu?”

Teeth clenched, Atsumu forced himself to shake his head, thankful that the painkillers from earlier would help keep everything to a minimum and the exercise would help him forget. Focus on what he could control, not the aspects of his nature that were beyond his control at the moment. Reactions, what he could tell them, and..well, that was about it. “N-no, it’s not that, nothing like that at all!” Had he even told them that he and Kiyoomi were living together? Today was going to be a heavy day.

It was Sakusa’s booming laughter that interrupted their odd conversation, the spiker laid out on the floor and having a laughing fit. There were words in between that hardly made sense, but there was no focus on that. The team was trying to ensure that Sakusa was still alive and sane while Atsumu had to hold his own laughter back, more than happy to join his boyfriend.

Though it might have been outing in a sense, Atsumu felt better about this version. Sakusa carrying them through a brief and no questions asked conversation to get things done. Just enough information to get them on board, and to assure everyone that Atsumu Miya was certainly not a misogynist.

“Wait, so Tsum-Tsum gets periods? Do you guys fuck while he’s on his period?” Bokuto asked, more interested in that answer than anything else. “Omi-Omi, don’t come closer, it was just a question!”

Maybe not the best reputation to have for a course of two days, but it was gone once the press team finally dealt with it. And, well, Atsumu only had more ways to admire Kiyoomi, for both the speech and the firm kiss to his lips he received when the other finally got a whack to Bokuto’s head to silence him.

#sakuatsu #sakusa x atsumu #haikyuu!!#hq!!#haikyuu fluff #🌈.drabble #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #msby #happy ending #day nine is not coming out #oops #q'd

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britishassistant · 3 years

Text

Eurydice and Izanami Didn’t Complain Half As Much

The human won’t take the bed.

Beel’s honestly begun measuring his interactions with the human by what it won’t do more than what it will.

It won’t eat or drink anything other than bottled water, even when its movements are growing so slow and sluggish that it makes Beel’s belly rumble both in commiseration and with the promise of easy (if unsatisfyingly stringy) prey. It’s been nearly two weeks already— it frightens him how easily it can deny itself, even when Lucifer forces it to sit with them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, scowling down at the table full of food but not eating any of it.

It won’t stop trying to escape the Devildom, slowly driving up Lucifer’s blood pressure with every attempt to slip out of the House of Lamentation, to scale the fences at R.A.D., to run away when escorted into town. It even tried to escape when he threw the fridge at Mammon for his pudding and it missed and went through its room, using the confusion of the fight to jump out of the now broken window, only for his eldest brother to materialize outside and use it as a projectile to knock him and Mammon out of their brawl.

And now it won’t take the bed.

Instead, it’s trying to curl up on the floor under the couch, without even a pillow.

“I can take the couch.” He tries again. “You have the bed.”

The human snorted. “Did you not hear me the first time? I don’t want the bed or the couch. I want to sleep here.”

“On the ground.” Beel says doubtfully.

”Yes.”

“In your uniform.” Beel eyes the wrinkled skirt and shoe’d feet of the human.

“Yes.”

”Without a pillow.”

”...Well I won’t say no if you have one to spare.” The human admits grudgingly. “But I’m sleeping here, and that’s final.”

Beel puzzles over this statement. “Are you going to try to escape during the night if you sleep there?”

There’s a suspiciously long silence. The human won’t look him in the eye.

”...no.” It says, unconvincingly.

He thinks he’s starting to understand the twitch that’s been forming in Lucifer’s left eye. Does this human not know the meaning of taking a break? It’s like dealing with Belphie’s stubbornness when it comes to waking up or getting out of bed, but in reverse.

”Fine.”

The human’s face brightens for the first time since he’s met it. “Finally, at least one of you lot is sen—“

Beel sweeps all the sheets and pillows off his bed onto the floor, and goes to the cupboard and pulls out the extra bedding to add to the pile.

”Whaaaat are you doing?” The human asks.

”Sleeping here.” Beel says innocently, trying to get comfortable on the padding he’s laid down, creating a sort of nest for himself between the couch and the door. One that the human won’t be able to pass without risking stepping on him if they try to sneak out. “And that’s final.”

The human looks almost comically offended, staring at him in open-mouthed indignation.

It huffs and snatches a pillow from his pile for itself, turning it’s back on him with purpose, like Asmo in a snit. “Whatever. You get the lights then. I can’t sleep unless it’s dark.”

”Sure.” He replies agreeably, standing to flick them off and grinning where the human can’t see him. It’s kind of fun messing with them, maybe even more fun than teasing Mammon or the angel chihuahua. The absent-minded thought wanders through his brain, wondering if this would’ve been what Lilith would’ve been like, if she’d survived the fall with them. She always got pouty when she was teased too.

Then Beel realizes what he’s thinking, and the gaping maw of guilt in the pit of his stomach becomes unbearable. The smile drops from his lips as he flicks the lights off.

He rummages in his drawer until he finds what he’s looking for. He munches on his sandwich as he fumbles his way back to his bed for the night.

”Are—are you seriously eating again?” The human’s tone is incredulous.

”I’m hungry.” He mutters darkly, polishing off the last few bites and ripping open the packet of chips as his stomach gurgles again.

The gurgling continues even after the pangs in his stomach have stopped.

Beel’s lived a long time. Long enough to be able to distinguish and recognize each of his stomach noises telling him what he’s hungry for.

That was not his stomach noise.

”...”

”...You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

The human shifts in the dark, little more than a shapeless mass under the couch. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse for longer than this.”

Beel...doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that. “If you’re hungry, you should eat.”

That provokes a bitter laugh. “Ha! Words of an adult who’s never gone without.”

He scowls at its shape in the dark. “I’m always going without. Nothing keeps me full. Nothing makes me full. I can eat and eat and eat, and I’ll still be as hungry as I was when I started. But even eating a little when I can is better than not eating anything at all.”

He can smell it, the human’s scent almost choking at this proximity. It’s odd, a spicy, rich scent like cardamom studded pork with an undercurrent of something...not quite right to it. Almost curdled, somehow.

Beel’s mouth salivates, no matter how many chips he tries to fill it with. His stomach and tastebuds can handle any food, no matter how long it’s been left out to sour. In some cases, he finds it improves the flavor of his meal. He’s never eaten a living human that’s smelled spoiled before though.

He wonders what it tastes like.

”Well if you can find me some human food that I know won’t trap me here for all eternity, then I’ll eat.” The human growls back. “Or, even better idea! Just stop wasting everyone’s time and send me home altogether! Then you and your brothers and me and mine can all live happily ever after the way we were meant to. Out of each other’s hair.”

Oh.

“You have brothers?” He tries to keep the tremble in his voice under control.

Tries not to picture Belphie, miserable and alone and lost in the human world, fighting with all the impotent ferocity of this human to get out, get out, get away, get back to him.

He misses Belphie. He misses Belphie.

The human shifts again in the dark. If the light under the door from the corridor could pass Beel’s bulk, he thinks he’d see it glisten off it’s wet eyes peering at him. “Well. One biological one. And an adopted one, and an adopted sister who’s his biological sister, but it’s. Complicated.”

Beel contemplates this. “Siblings are siblings. We’re not all related by blood.”

“I know that.” The human snaps, sounding oddly irritated. “It’s just...are they your adopted siblings if you and your best friend kinda adopted them together? Like, Shio and Asahi call us all ‘big brother’ and ‘big sister’, but who do we say has custody, really? Cause they love him and he really loves them, and they’re so good for each other, and I don’t wanna take that away from him, but...”

Beel doesn’t quite understand the thread of this complaint. Not in the least because his best friends have always been his brothers and sister, no matter how much they drive each other up the wall.

“Is your best friend not your brother too?”

There’s a sharp crack.

“FUCK!”

Beel’s salivating gets worse at the sudden iron tang of blood.

“Are you okay?” He asks, as he desperately tries to swallow it back down, standing to go grab some more food and maybe a towel for the human.

There’s a pained groan. “Y-yeah. Just...tried to sit up. Forgot about the couch.”

“You can still take the bed.” Beel points out, warring between trying not to breathe in through his nose and get ambushed by more of that delicious scent and keeping his mouth shut enough not to drool all over himself.

“No, I’m sleeping here, fuck off.” The human grumbles petulantly. It yelps a little when he throws the handtowel at it.

Beel inhales gratefully as the scent is finally muffled somewhat.

“And no. He’s not. My brother, that is. He’s my best friend.” The human said, as if the distinction was somehow important.

“…What’s the difference?” Beel asks, confused.

The human sighs explosively, as if this is a monumental chore he’s forced on it. “I-I don’t kn—! You’re related to one and not the other?! I just—! Are your brothers seriously all you have, because if so, you need to get out more, you know that?! Find people who won’t belittle you every damn second of the day. Get more healthy relationships, or all that jazz. Fuck, I don’t know, I’m not a therapist!”

Beel chews on the first mouthful of his second bag of chips as he digests this tirade. Apart from the insults towards his brothers, the meat of their argument about the difference between “best friend” and “adopted sibling” seems to be centered around the idea of the relations between both? But technically, one wouldn’t be any more related by blood to an adopted sibling than they would be to a best friend (a fact that Levi has tried to impress upon him many times when trying to explain the ‘ships’ in some cartoon or another), so what’s the distinction…?

Something clicks in Beel’s head, as he momentarily halts in chewing his ninth serving of chips.

“Oh.” He says, swallowing his mouthful. “Are you in love with your best friend romantically or something?”

There’s a moment of silence.

Then the human explodes into a flurry of noise, sputtering and swearing and near-shrieking unintelligibly, it’s scent growing stronger as blood and adrenaline pumps through it on what smells like double-time.

Beel has no idea what the big deal is, as the human lobs the pillow he gave them in his general direction and misses by a mile, but that certainly explains a few things.

He tilts the end of the bag up towards his mouth as he reflects on how whiny Asmo will be once he learns the real reason this human has been ignoring him so throughly. It almost makes him want to hold off on telling his brothers, but the idea of all the colors that Lucifer could turn, knowing precisely why the human won’t play his and Diavolo’s game, makes it far too good an opportunity to pass up.

Lilith would’ve loved something like this, a story of “true love” and “star-crossed romance”. Belphie will find it hilarious when he gets back, a human trying to defy the forces much greater than it for something so fickle and fleeting.

In the moment, Beel just tries to tune out the human’s shouting as he rolls over to get some sleep.

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Everything Undesired chapter 11

Warning: victim blaming, emotinal abuse (Arella recounts her traumatic childhood/she should probably see a therapist to deal with her mommy issues.)

chapter 10

“It... It was my mother....”

The demon stares down at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape in shock at the revelation. What kind of mother says that to her own child? He laid his head down on the bed as she carried on because where would he even begin to start with all this?

“It started when my father died in a car crash when I was four... She said it was my fault because I had wanted to go out to the park and he took me. That I should feel guilty for asking for something so selfish, for seeking out his attention on one of his rare days off.... and then it just became common place to blame me for anything thing that she considered even remotely selfish or attention-seeking. Every bad thing that happened to our family was my fault and then... when I told her about what happened to me, she called me a whore. Told me I was probably just lying to get out of trouble and if I wasn’t, what did I expect from hanging around with a man seven years older than I was. That I deserved it and I only had myself to blame. She called me a disgrace to our family and tried to kick me out but when one of my friends’ parents threatened to call the authorities for child abandonment, she let me come back. All I had wanted was someone to tell me i-it wasn’t fault. All I wanted was to earn back her love.”

She let out a sob as she rattled on and Mammon lets her continue. The flood gates had been opened and even though she wanted to stop letting it out, Arella couldn’t.

“When she took her own life after my brother took his, her note for me was only filled with insults. How she wished I hadn’t been born. That I was ungreatful for the life she allowed me to have. That she always hated me and wished she hadn’t kept me. That she blamed me for my brother's death because I was too wrapped up in myself to keep him from doing it and how I would never find anyone who truly loved me because I didn’t deserve it. I thought about taking my life too because she was right. I was a horrible daughter- a horrible person. I loved her so much and that note left me shattered because I knew it was the truth.”

“No, it's not,” his voice is soft.

“Yes, it is! Please agree with me. You don’t have to spare my feelings. Look what I do with you. Whenever I see you talking to one of our female classmates, I always get selfish and interfere regardless of what you two were actually talking about.”

“And? It’s not like I’ve never done it with you. Arella, it is okay to be selfish sometimes and it don't make you a horrible person. You don’t have to bottle your sins all the time like you’ve been doin’. You live with representations of the seven sins, Babe. None of us are gonna care if ya indulge in greed or lust or envy or pride or any of the others for that matter every once in a while, because we do the same thing on a regular basis.”

Arella went to say something in rebuttal but stopped once the baby monitor went off. She tried to squirm out from under Mammon but he stopped her.

“Nu-uh, you’re not gettin' him. Let me take care of him tonight. You’re not gettin' out of this bed, got it?”

“B-But you were out all day with Asmo, aren’t you-”

“Take a break, Treasure.” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can handle him and if he’s really fussin’ for ya, I’ll bring him back here but I want you to be the selfish one for once in this relationship and take some time for yourself.” The demon rolls off her and heads see what his son needs.

------------------------------------------------------

As he managed to get close to the baby’s room, the crying suddenly stopped. The Avatar of Greed wonders if maybe Cyrus had just woken up from a bad dream and managed to comfort himself back to sleep. He still decided checking up on the kid was best and carried on- infants were so delicate and anything could go wrong at any time. It wasn’t until he heard Lucifer giving instruction to someone else that Mammon realized what was going on. He remembered back to his conversation with the Avatar of Pride this morning. He was teaching one of their younger brothers how to care for a baby- a valuable skill for the future if one of them decided they wanted kids of their own.

He approached the door; the sight was almost enough to make him laugh. The twins were trying their best to follow Lucifer’s instructions. Belphie was attempting to change Cyrus’ diaper and trying to figure out which way the clean one went on while Beel was trying to figure out how exactly to work the bottle warmer.

“Lucifer, which way does this damn thing go on?”

“Flip it around, Belphegor, you almost put it on backwards.”

“How hot should a bottle be before he can have it?”

“Turn it to 37 degrees- a normal human body temperature. Any hotter may can burn his mouth. The warmer will let you know when it’s ready.”

“Hey, quit squirming, you little snot. I’m trying to get your diaper on.”

Mammon cleared his throat. “I can take him now. Y’all look like you’re havin’ trouble...”

“I’ll guide them through it, Mammon. They had an interest in learning. Go on and go back to your room.” The eldest replied. “We can handle it.”

“Are ya sure?”

“We’re sure,” the twins responded as they tried to focus on their tasks.

And there was the guilt again, brought about from seeing his brothers helping when they didn’t need to. He told Arella he would take care of their son tonight and now it felt like he was just shirking the responsibility onto them.

“Are... are ya sure?”

“Yes,” The three of them responded.

“It’ll be good practice for our kids if we decide to have any,” the Avatar of Gluttony said.

“Yeah, our mates can’t be the ones doing all the work and I would rather not look like a fool with my first kid in front of them.” The seventh-born nods. “So, go on. We got this.”

“Alright then,” The white-haired demon turned to leave before a panicked cry erupted from Cyrus and he turned back around immediately, his parental instincts going wild, “hey, hey, whatcha cryin for kiddo? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Cyrus only continued to cry, attempting to reach his little hands up for his father. Mammon only grasped the infant’s hands in his.

“I know, I know, these ain’t the people who usually take care of ya.”

The little one only let out little whines, gradually calming down as Belphegor fastened the diaper around his waist.

“There, see, that wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re okay,” Mammon went to go pull away so he could sit him up, but Cyrus took it as a sign that his father was going to leave again and let out a shriek as he kicked his legs. Everyone covered their ears at the sound. “Cyrus, stop! I can’t hold ya when you’re screamin’ like that.” Since when had he gotten so clingy. Mammon forgot just how clingy newborns got to be.

“I think... maybe its best we leave.” Lucifer sighed as he mulled over why Cyrus might be acting this way. It wasn’t normal clinginess for an infant of his age and then it dawned on him. It was a fear response. Both he and Beel were there the night his biological mother and her sisters were dealt with and Cyrus heard all of that and was just now seeming to remember that night. “Beel, we need to leave right now. Belphegor can stay, but the two of us cannot be here right now.”

“Huh? Why?” The Avatar of Gluttony looked confused but a stern look from his oldest brother made him realize what exactly was happening and followed Lucifer out without any more questions.

As soon as the pair of demons were gone the screaming started to die down.

“Yeesh, what’s up with that, kid.” Mammon asked as he picked his son up, like he could answer his father. “Hey, Belphie the bottle should be ready. Hand it to me, will ya?”

“Yeah... I think Cyrus might be scared of Lucifer and Beel. He only screams like that when he sees Satan...”

Blue to gold gradient widened as he looked down at the infant whose eyes were glued to the doorway and his stomach dropped. “Oh...Oh no... He remembers...”

———————————————————————-

Find more on my masterlist

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me #obey me swd #mammon angst #obey me angst #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me oc #arella #cyrus

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

This Christmas (pt1)

John Wick x Reader. A John Wick AU. (A/n- Just a tiny, five part Au where John is Y/n’s boss.)

Masterlist

Warnings- none

New York Y/n’s desk was probably the most obvious give away that Christmas was her favorite holiday of all time. She had everything; from tinsel running cheerfully around the edges and a tiny tree in one corner, to a little snowman figurine and a decorative jar of striped candy canes. That year, she’d even put out extra to buy a little Santa Claus figurine to greet everyone coming out of the elevator. The rest of the floor hadn’t really caught on though, her boss was never one to get into the holiday spirit anyways. But Y/n didn’t mind, she probably had enough for them both.

That morning, three weeks before the big day, she was sitting at her little station in the waiting room, tapping away on her computer, contentedly working her way through everything John had assigned her as she hummed in time with the Christmas carols wafting through her ear buds, loud enough for her to enjoy it though not so much so as to hamper her from hearing if the phone would ring. A classic had just started up, and like the others, Y/n had committed it to memory and was completely ready to get in tune with Mariah Carey when a knocking on the upper part of her receptionist’s desk roused her attention. It was Robert, the company’s head of marketing, flashing her a winning grin as he leaned forward on the matted grey surface. “I see our Christmas queen strikes again,” he gave her area a once over, his smile not wavering.

“That she has,” Y/n returned, beaming. Robert was a friend, a good one and he never let the vast differences in their positions at the company get in the way of inviting her to drinks with other board members or taking the extra elevator ride to bring her coffee whenever he could. “Do you like it?” Removing her ear buds, Y/n shifted her keyboard to give herself some room to fold her elbows on the desk.

“Like it?” Robert furrowed his brows, “I love it! You should come over and help me decorate,” when Y/n rolled her eyes, dismissing the notion, he clarified, “I’m being serious! You won’t have to do any of the heavy lifting, I swear, I’d be grateful for just your direction.”

Giggling, Y/n leaned back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest, “Can’t you pay someone to do all that Rob? What do you need me for?”

“I guess I could,” he shrugged, depositing a colorful gift bag with crepe paper sticking out at the top in front of him, he straightened up, slipping his hands into his pockets, “But it won’t be the same. I’m pretty clueless with…..making sure things flow so perfectly,” he gestured to the way she’d dressed up her station; just enough to show off the spirit, though not in a gaudy, over the top way, “But I like to get involved, you know? Please say you’ll come. I may not be able to decorate like a pro, but my hot cocoa is awesome.”

Leaning in conspiringly, Y/n held her chin in her palm, “Are you trying to bribe me with amazing cocoa that I’ve never tasted?”

“I am,” his voice dropped an octave, and when Robert leaned in towards the desk, he spoke in a whisper, “The secret’s whiskey.”

“Ohh,” Y/n mused, “Very tempting, can you do Saturday?”

“I most definitely can.” just as they continued to make plans, out from the hallway, came their boss, and CEO of the company, John Wick. It was hard to not notice him, considering he seemed to have this air about him that attracted all eyes the minute he walked into a room. He was just…..magnetic. “Y/n,” he teased, “You didn’t tell me the Grinch was in.”

From her usual perch, Y/n stuttered, unlike Robert, she was afraid of what would happen if John felt insulted by a harmless joke. He was an asset to the company, of a high caliber, but her? She was just an assistant. Thankfully though, John didn’t give her a moment to speak before speaking up, shaking his head, “Don’t you have work to do Rob? Things to finalize before the conference.”

“It’s three weeks away,” Robert defended, taking on a bothered expression. He turned to John, leaning against the lip of the desk and crossing one ankle in front of the other. Likewise, John neared the pair, lingering closer to the edge, laying a large palm on the cool top, not yet regarding Y/n.

“Only three weeks,” John emphasized with a heavy sigh, “Did you really just come up here to bother my secretary? Cause if you don’t, Y/n does have work to.”

“I can see that,” Robert nodded towards the thick planner laid out next to her computer, right next to several papers and little notes reminding her of all the things she had to get done. Buy gifts for everyone on John’s very long yet impersonal list, schedule flights to England for the conference, book him a hotel room, organize his calendar and set appointment dates. And that was barely a quarter of it. By the rate things were going, Y/n was beginning to wonder if John was even going to take Christmas day off. “You’ve got her burning the midnight oil.”

“It’s eleven am,” John noted gruffly. In her three years of working under him, Y/n had never once heard the man crack a joke, or laugh for that matter. He was so serious that often, Y/n would wonder if he even smiled. Maybe that's why he looked so good for a man nearing fifty. That, and the real possibility of him having a fancy home gym. “Maybe it’s time to get back to your office Robert.”

“Right,” Robert fought a frown, only to turn back to Y/n as he picked up the gift, “Just one more thing,” as he looked at her, he smiled again, holding the bag out to her, “I got you this Y/n.”

Scoffing a delighted laugh, Y/n retrieved the present, “No fair, you’re early. I haven’t even had time to get your gift yet.”

“This isn’t your Christmas present,” Robert gestured for her to unveil his gift, “Open it, come on.”

“Alright, fine. But if it's not- oh my god!” Gasping loudly, her jaw hung slack and Y/n held up the ceramic mug that had been secured inside. It was rounded and painted to look like a gingerbread man wearing a scarf, and it had even come equipped with a candy cane spoon. “Rob,” standing abruptly, disregarding her boss eyeing their exchange, “I love it,” Y/n walked around to meet him on the other side, immediately pulling him into a warm hug, “Thank you!”

“I knew you would,” he grinned as they pulled apart, “I should probably get back now though. But I’ll call you tonight so we can talk about Saturday.”

“Sounds great!” Waving as Robert retreated towards the elevator, she gave her new mug another look, “I can’t wait to use this,” Y/n noted, more to herself, only catching John staring at her when she looked up once more, “I’m sorry Mr. Wick, is there something you needed? If its about your flight plan, I’m calling the agency this afternoon so-”

“You know we have a no fraternization policy, right?” He cut her off, straightening his back and cutting her a stern look.

“I….uh….You mean…..” Looking between John and her opened present, Y/n furrowed her brows, confused. Of course, Robert was perhaps one of the most eligible bachelors, besides John himself, at the company; he was attractive, charming and quite the gentleman. But Y/n had never even thought of viewing him in a romantic light, they were friends and nothing more. “That was…..that was nothing,” she waved the thought off, “Robert is just a good friend. He probably just saw that while he was shopping or something. We do that kind of thing all the time.”

Humming his response, John kept his head held intimidatingly high. He always seemed so much bigger than her and Y/n could never decide whether or not it was thrilling or frightening. John himself was quite the looker, dark hair, dark eyes and enthrallingly mysterious. Even on a regular day he looked like he belonged on the posters for some high end brand or the other. “I need you in my office,” already, he was walking off and Y/n was left scurrying to match his long strides in her heels.

“What is this about?” Breathless as John shut the heavy door behind them, Y/n tried to right herself as she went before his desk. The large room, with dark porcelain floors and hardwood walls, accented by elegant furniture was familiar territory and Y/n knew it almost as well as she knew her own apartment. Papers on the right of his desk were dealt with, the ones on the left weren’t. There was an integrated mini refrigerator among the cabinets and he kept an extra suit, custom Tom Ford cause he never wore anything but, in the closet where he kept his coat. Come to think of it, Y/n probably knew more about John than anyone else in that entire building,

“Its about the conference,” coolly, he sank into his imposing leather chair, gracefully scooting towards his imported, mahogany desk. “It’s good that you haven’t called the agency yet, cause now you’ll be booking three tickets; you’re coming too.”

Stammering, Y/n’s eyes went wide with surprise. That wasn’t right, that wasn’t right at all. She was supposed to have Christmas week off, so she could fly home to be with her family, but that wasn’t really possible if John would be taking her across the pond for a conference filled with stuffy, middle aged people with too much money and no one to spend it on. “Mr. Wick…..I…..I already applied for that week off.”

“No you didn’t, you never submitted an application,” he didn’t even look at her, firing up his laptop and probably ready to be done with the matter.

“Yes, I did,” frenzied, and panicked, Y/n looked to his desk, where, lo and behold, her application for time off sat on among the smaller pile of paperwork, the one on the left side. But that was impossible, she’d given it to him weeks ago! “It’s right there,” she pointed accusingly to where it had been sticking out from beneath some investment proposal or the other.

Snatching it up, John scanned the pages before swearing under his breath. It was the first time she’d ever seen him so bewildered. “Y/n,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I’m sorry it must have gotten mixed up in the hustle.”

“I….” She wanted to argue, tell him that an apology wouldn’t make up for keeping her away from her family. Y/n wanted to yell that she’d be taking the week off anyway. But she couldn’t. Not just because he was her boss, but because he was John, who despite his very hardened exterior, had earned himself a soft spot in her heart. Y/n cared for him, in a way she probably shouldn’t have and the thought of bailing when he needed her wasn’t one she could entertain. “It’s okay,” forcing a smile and biting back tears, she blinked quickly, “I guess I should get to planning our flights.”

“Y/n-” he began, but it was too late, Y/n had already turned on her heel and was moving towards the door, swiping hastily at her eyes before she could listen to him say anything else.

Three Weeks Later Despite being separated merely by six inches in the car ride to the airport, Y/n swore that she could feel John's heat radiating, seeping through her thick layers. It was both an exciting and uncomfortable experience. On one hand, being that close to him almost had her giddy; feeding the school girl crush she'd developed on her boss. While on the other, things felt clumsy and tense; he didn't seem interested in talking, she didn't know what they could possibly talk about besides work and sharing an hour long car ride and six am was plain out awkward. Still, they’d made it through in almost complete silence.

Even at the airport, whilst walking to where they had agreed to meet Robert at the waiting area in anticipation of their flight, John had stayed silent and Y/n felt something of a dead limb walking beside him. He was always quiet and, like clockwork, as the year dwindled down, he seemed to grow even colder, as New York’s winter resided inside him. Usually, Y/n tried to not to let it get to her, but they were going to spend the week together; she’d given up family time for work and his silence was making her feel a bit lonely. Her only glimmer of hope for some good, warm company had been in Robert, even if Y/n got the feeling that John wouldn’t be giving them too much time together.

The chill between them lingered all the way through, though, when they all met up, things were uncharacteristically different. Immediately upon greeting each other, Y/n had instinctively pulled Robert into a hug, standing on the tip toes of her suede knee-highs so she could loop her arms around his neck, staying like that until John cleared his throat. When Y/n pulled away, she rubbed her gloved hands together, glancing at John, not really knowing what to feel when she looked at him and consequently looking away quickly. “ Uh…” checking her phone, Y/n exhaled shakily; there was still quite a bit of time left and the thought of having to spend it with both Robert and John was unnerving. She knew he wasn’t exactly a fan of their friendship, though, she could never tell why and without having to ponder on it, Y/n had already known that they were in for a long morning.

“Why don’t we head over to the lounge, get some drinks?” John filled the silence, causing Y/n to snap her head up and look directly at them. John wanted to grab drinks, with them? When she finally gathered the courage to face him, she found that John was looking directly at her, as if he were really only seeking her response.

Staring back at him, as she always did, Y/n found it hard to not lose herself in those dark pools, so endless that she might have drowned if she wasn’t too careful. The request was simple and impersonal, but still very unlike the John she’d grown to know. “Okay,” forcing herself to nod and simultaneously shifting her gaze back to Robert who now stood beside her, Y/n agreed, “We can do that. But it’s a little early, don’t you think?”

“It’s the airport, Y/n,” Robert teased lightly as he nudged her shoulder, “Besides, it's already noon in London, so technically, you’re just…….pre-assimilating.”

Battling an amused grin, Y/n rolled her eyes, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she prepared to start moving towards the lounge, “That’s not a real thing.”

“Technically it is, I mean, Hardy made up words all the time and no one did anything about that. You,” he emphasized pointedly, “Love Hardy.”

“Hardy is a timeless, literary genius. You are a marketer from New York, it’s clearly not the same,” she laughed. She could tell that Robert was about to add something more, though, when John interrupted them, sternly urging them to move along, he dropped the matter, instead insisting that he take one of her bigger bags. “Oh, you don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” he said, claiming one of her carry ons before she could protest any further. “We should get going, before Scrooge over here loses it.”

“You’ve gotta stop that,” Y/n admonished before they set off, “You’re gonna get fired or something.”

“I’m not gonna get fired, relax-”

“If you kids are finished,” they both looked to John immediately as he scolded them, and Y/n shuddered at the way his tell tale signs of irritation shone through; a quirked brow, an evident scowl and a hardness in his jaw that screamed that he was at his rope’s end with their banter.

“We are,” she spoke up without giving Robert the opportunity to come up with another questionable joke directed at their very unamused boss. Then, not offering anything further, she followed John’s lead as he walked off, not paying any mind to how far they were behind him.

Though, the peace was short lived when Y/n tripped as they reached the bottom of one of those short lived staircases that had been placed purely for aesthetic purposes, accidently dropping her rolling suitcase as she stumbled forward. With reflexes faster than she could have registered, John spun, barely sparing a moment to set aside his own suitcase before catching her at the shoulders. By the time he’d helped her right herself, Y/n’s chest was barely a hair away from his and with the way he was bent, his face wasn’t much further from hers. Swallowing thickly, for the first time Y/n didn’t feel small under his bottomless stare, instead, she felt like he was seeing into her; trying to speak into her. It was hard to decipher it, and it could have very well been her own unspoken affections blurring things, but Y/n could have sworn that he was seeing her in a different light.

Everything around them seemed to slow down, like the universe was letting her savor the proximity that she’d never experience again. “Are you okay?” John’s inquiry pierced their fragile moment, and all of a sudden, it was as if someone had hit play on a remote so reality would resume.

“I…..I’m fine, thanks,” she smiled weakly, her expression faltering when John pulled away. Then, simultaneously remembering her fallen suitcase, they both bent over to get it, leaving John’s hand to unconsciously fall over Y/n’s. For a split second, they stared at their hands, together, on the black plastic handle, looking very suggestive with the way they were positioned. “I uh, I got it,” flustered, Y/n gave the bag a gentle tug.

John didn’t let up immediately though, instead sparing her a peculiar stare, “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay,” she exhaled shakily. Y/n couldn't let him take it, else she’d read too much into it, and no good would come from reading too much into an innocent though rare act of inconsequential kindness from John Wick. He didn’t feel the same, they weren’t even friends, it wasn’t worth it. “Thanks though.”

They stood and John immediately put some distance between them. “Good,” he scoffed coldly, walking off before they could exchange anything else.

“Hey,” Robert touched her shoulder, causing Y/n to jump. She’d been looking on as John walked off, rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or think. “You okay? That could have been a nasty fall, especially in those shoes.”

“Yeah,” finally tearing her gaze away from John’s slowly shrinking form so she could greet Robert’s concern with her own bewilderment, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Vaguely, she heard his response, though it sounded far off as she inevitably succumbed to letting thoughts of the past five minds swim around in her head; caught between wishing it meant something and thinking that it more than likely didn’t.

****** Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick x you #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x y/n #john wick x y/n #john wick x reader #john wick fanfic #ff #fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick au #christmas au #this christmas #this christmas part 1

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black-dragon1998 · 4 years

Text

First day back at the office

part 8 ‘Out of the box wat of starting a family’

summary: Lena has to go back to the office but Kara has a Supergirl emergency so Lydia has to go with her.

part 1 Beginning a family

part 2 Meeting the rest of the family

part 3 Going shopping

part 4 Waiting for Supergirl

part 5 Sick

part 6 Game night part 1/2

part 7 Game night part 2/2

Lena had imagined her first day back to work a little different. Kara and her had agreed on taking turns on staying home and taking care of Lydia. Kara’s job as a reporter gave her a little more leniency about her work hours and place. Lena had to eventually go back to the office, even how good Sam did a job as a CFO L-Corp didn’t run without her signature. She did however hoped it would be a little smoother.

Of course, their life couldn’t be that easy. The day Lena was support to go back to work, she really couldn’t put it off anymore. Alex called in Supergirl for some alien crisis, forcing Lena to come up with a new strategy. Lena woke up a grumpy Lydia, trying to explain why she had to go with her to the office. Luckily Lydia took her baths in the evening and only needed a fresh pair of clothes.

Putting her in her highchair Lena gave her an easy breakfast that she couldn’t smear out over herself, while she gathered everything to take with them. Next to two different outfits she also packed a couple of toys, Lydia’s favorite color book and crayons, her noise-cancelling headphones and a couple of soothers.

Forty-five minutes later Lena had both of them strapped in the car and was driving toward L-corp. Lydia had back asleep.

It still being early in the morning L-Corp wasn’t as busy as it usually was, so Lena could move Lydia to her office without her little girl being scared by all the noises. Lena installed Lydia on the couch so she could sleep for another couple of hours. She didn’t have any meetings planned for today, so she could become up to date with all the paperwork she had missed. This also mend she could keep a close eye on Lydia, not quite ready to let the girl be alone.

It was close to 11 o’clock when Lena saw the mountain of blankets on the couch start to move. Lena signed the paper in front of her and got up from her desk to go see her.

“sleep well a chroi.” Lena crouched down in front of the couch and started stroking Lydia’s head to help and ground the little girl. Waking up in unfamiliar places was hard for the little girl, evident when she woke up at Alex and Sam’s house when they had laid her down for a short nap. Seeing her mother made the girl relax, preventing an meltdown.

“Mommy! Mama?” the little crinkle in the little girl's forehead reminded her so much of herself and couldn’t help but smile.

“mama is with aunt Alex, they are helping people.” Explaining to a two-year-old that your mother is a superhero is one thing trying to explain what the entails are on a whole other level.

Seeing the familiar object Lydia dropped her thump and opened her mouth for her mother to put in the soother. Putting in the soother Lena strokes Lydia’s cheek with her other hand for comfort.

“do you know where you are Angeal?” Lydia nodded, still whining for her mama. Lena and Kara had noticed Lydia had taken on the habit of sucking on her thump while feeling fussy so Lena searched Lydia’s bag for her ‘Supergirl’ themed soother, a gods gift to keep the girl calm in hard moments. If only had they had it the first couple of weeks.

Lena stood up, getting back to work hopping Lydia would sleep for just a little while longer. No such luck, because like every time Lydia woke up she craved human contact when she just woke up.

“Mommy!” Lydia makes grabby hands at Lena, the young mother knew she shouldn’t give in so fast or her little girl would get spoiled. Thinking back at her times with the Luthor’s. She couldn’t remember if Lillian has ever hugged her, makes the decision very quickly.

Lena picked up her daughter and walked back to her desk to continue working. During her time at home, Lena had learned how-to work with a little human attached to her hip or on her lap.

A couple of hours had passed when Lydia started squirming on Lena’s lap. Looking down Lena saw Lydia looking up at her.

“Mommy, potty.” Reacting quickly Lena lifted Lydia and puts a hand under her to feel it heavier than before.

“Okay little one, let’s get you cleaned up.” Lena got up from her desk. Putting Lydia on the ground to grab her bag with clean cloths. The little girl started to get fussy when putting down and Lena had to act fast.

“just a moment Angeal, I’m just grabbing your bag and clean cloths.” Slinging the bag over her shoulder she grabs Lydia’s hand and leads her toward the restroom, the on the hall and not in her office because the one in her office didn’t have enough room for her to help Lydia let alone changer her. Nobody used it beside her and Jess so nobody could see her being soft and ruin her reputation.

Exiting the restroom Lydia was walking next to her, full woken up and was animatedly talking about her dream. Lena was listening intently while they were walking back. The talking instantly stopped when the little girl noticed the woman standing in front of Jesses desk, who was out on her lunch break.

The woman looked very agitated her foot tapping rapidly on the floor and her arms were crossed over her chest, huffing every few seconds to let people know she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

“mommy wo that?” Lydia talking seemed to draw the woman’s attention, she spun around on her high heels and levelled them with a glare. Lena was unaffected by this but Lydia hid behind Lena.

“ah finely, somebody to assist me. I have to say this is one of the worst welcomes I have had in a long time.” The tone in the woman implied that Lena should feld bad for this, which she didn’t. All Lena could do was stare at the woman. Who was she? What was she doing here and more importantly how did she get up here?

Lena felled a extensive talk with her security team coming up.

“what can I do for you, ma’am.” Lena didn’t show any emotion on her face. She knew the woman wasn’t here for an appointment because she didn’t have any today and had told Jess to redirect everybody that wanted to make one to another date.

the woman sends her another glare, looking very annoyed.

“well because of your tardiness ‘I’ am late for my appointment.” Lena couldn’t help but look at the woman with a questionable look. What was this entitled woman talking about, what nonsense was she spouting. It also seemed she didn’t know who she was talking about and that Lena was the secretary.

Lydia didn’t like this woman. She was mean snarky and not in the bubbly way her mommy could be with her mama and auntie Alex. She made her feel uncomfortable. The little girl pulled on Lena’s pants to get her attention.

Looking down Lena saw her daughter outstretched, silently making fists at her. Lena picked her up and put her on her hip, stroking her back to soothe he, sensing she was feeling uncomfortable.

Seeing Lydia seemed to double the woman glaring, making the little girl shrink back into Lena.

“if you weren’t so busy slacking off at your job maybe you could let the CEO know I am here.” Lena was getting fed up with this woman and her making her daughter uncomfortable was the last straw.

“Sorry to disappoint you but are no meetings plant for today, so if you would be so pleased to leave before I’m forced to call security.” Lean fired back, stepping behind Jesses desk ready to call security.

Not giving up that easy the woman started spouting other lies while calling Lena names.

“that is impossible I know the CEO and he is expecting me, so if you would be so nice as to go and get him you and that runt of your can go back to doing nothing. Let me guess you want to sell the kid as he don’t you, making him pay for your expenses.”

“I’m sure you know the CEO, but she doesn’t know you and is asking you to leave.” Lena fires back, picking up the phone and call security. Hearing Lena call security the woman loses it completely, razing her voice while spouting insults and pointing an accusing finger at Lena saying that she was lying. Lydia buried herself further into Lena, not liking the loud noises.

“I don’t know if you think you are funny but I demand to speak to your superior!” keeping a calm face Lena walks into her office, leaving the woman behind screaming.

She placed Lydia on the couch stroking her cheek, calming her down.

“you okay a chroi?” Lena asked looking wordily at her daughter. Lydia didn’t say anything but did give a little nod. Lena decided to leave Lydia in the office while she dealt with the raging woman and after that, she thinks it might be best to go home for the day, maybe stop for lunch. Giving her a final kiss on the forehead Lena walks back outside the office.

Lena had informed her security team of a code yellow, trespassing without violence. So they should be here soon. She closed the door behind her so Lydia wouldn't see or hear anything that would happen. The woman was still where she left her and attacked Lena the moment she saw her exiting the office.

“I thought you were going to get your superior and where did you leave the brat.” That was the last straw for Lena, nobody called her kid a brat.

“I don’t have to go and get anybody because in this company there is no one higher than me. What I did do was notify security and they should be here any moment to escort you out.” The grave mistake she seemed to have made settled on the woman’s face. The ‘simple’ secretary she thought she was harassing turned out to be the CEO of the company she wanted to get an appointment with.

Behind the woman, Lena saw the elevator doors open. Stepping out were Jess and her security team. If this was something Jess had to deal with on the daily the woman deserved a raze.

“the next couple of minutes will determine whether or not I press charges for trespassing or not.” Lena watched on in amusement how the woman’s face flushed with rage but held her breath. Informing Jess over what happened and trusting she will handle everything with security Lean stepped back into the office to check on her daughter.

Lydia had retreated to one of the corners of the couch, knees pulled up to her chest and plush wolf squeezed tightly between her arms and legs. Lena sat down next to her, not touching her to not startle the girl even more. It took a minute for Lydia to notice her mother had reentered the room.

“mommy! Woman gone?” Lena pulled Lydia on her lap and started stroking her hair. Seeing the state her daughter was in Lena did have to have a firm word with her security team, so things like this never happened again.

“it’s okay now little one. The mean lady is gone.” Lydia visibly relaxed into Lena and hugged her mother closer.

“Why don’t we pack up and go home, we can stop for lunch and maybe mama is done with her work already and can join us.” Lydia nods in the crook of Lena’s neck. Lean picked up the things she needed, the rest she would leave at the office for if Lydia stayed over again. Before leaving the office Lena put on Lydia’s noise-cancelling headphones and picket her up.

She took the elevator straight to the underground parking where her driver was waiting for her. On their way home, they stopped for Kara’s and Lydia favourite lunch at Noonan’s. sending Kara a quick text to tell her where they were and how things where going moments later she got a text back from Kara saying she would join them at home for lunch.

When Kara entered the apartment for lunch Lydia’s mood had gone back up again and she was telling Kara about the day she had at the office. Kara was a little confused when Lydia started talking about a monster that had yelled at her mommy, but with Lena clarifying Kara was listening intently.

food devoured Kara played with Lydia for a little while, letting Lena put on the final touches on the papers she started in the office before laying the little girl down for her afternoon nap. While the little girl slept Kara finished the article she had to finish before cuddling with Lena on the couch to listen to how her girlfriend was feeling. She knew Lena was good at bottling up her feelings and prioritizing other people over herself. It didn’t take long before all the stresses of the day were released and Lena snuggled into Kara to take her own midday nap.

The first day back to work had certainly interesting, but Lena if she had Kara and Lydia coming home to she could do it forever.

want to support me Buy me a Ko-fi

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #kara danvers x lena luthor #kara danvers x reader #mom kara danvers #lena luthor x reader #protective lena luthor #mom lena luthor #Kara Danvers x Daughter OC #oc daughter #protective Kara

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conaionaru · 4 years

Text

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Beginnings and endings

Synopsis: The naming ceremony and Silas’s punishment

Warnings: Murder, angst, fluff, gore

Tags:

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Vanya sat in the Great Hall next to Ivar in a new white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. She observed the marks on the table, trailing her fingers over them. Everyone around her talked, too, focused on their plans of Silas's punishment to even notice her despair.

The man from her dreams, Hoenir, sat on her right, while Ivar sat on her left. Brynja and Margrethe run around their table, serving their meal. It has been two days since Vanya returned home. She got some deserved rest, but her mind was plagued with her worries.

They wouldn't let her see her son; sometimes, when everything grew quiet, she could hear him cry. It tore at her heart, but according to the healers, she was in no state to be near a newborn. During her time on the run, she caught a cold, her fever was high, and she felt like throwing up after every meal.

Listening to the Ragnarsson, Aslaug, Floki, and Helga argue about what to do with Silas wasn't what she yearned to do. "Are you alright, Vanya?" Brynja questioned her a soft hand on her shoulder, steadying the swaying princess. Vanya nodded tiredly and leaned against Ivar's shoulder.

The Viking entwined their hands together and kissed her damp temple.

He asked her to stay in bed, but Vanya knew she had to be there, no matter how much she hated it. She sentenced Silas to death; it's her duty to help choose the way he will die. "Let's burn him alive," Hvitserk suggested once again, causing his brothers to roll their eyes.

"Slit his throat, that's what he wanted to happen to Vanya." Sigurd countered, but the others disagreed again.

"Too kind, it must be more painful and drawn out." Ivar reminded them, his left hand in a tight fist while his right one squeezed Vanya's hand tighter, to remember that she is here.

Floki raised his cup and giggled in the mad way he always does. "Skin him alive." He offered but was shot down as well. Everyone kept suggesting different methods of execution, all rejected one by one. It was getting tiring for Vanya, draining her of the last bits of strength she regained.

"Maybe you should lay down, Vanya. You don't look so good." Ubbe softly told her, looking at her with tender eyes. She looked broken, her left hand wrapped in bandages to cover her cut. There was also a bandage on the cauterized wound on her shoulder. It would scar, which she didn't care about. Ivar was right; it was a sign of survival, a proof of her strength.

She shook her head and straightened in her seat to look healthier than she felt. "I can't sleep or rest anymore. I need to be here so Silas can be dealt with. He needs to die a painful death, I promised him that, and that's what will happen. No arrows or drowning or hanging. My brother needs to suffer as I suffered; at least I am sparing him the pain of not knowing if you will survive." She spat angrily, slumping back in her chair, exhausted. How pathetic was she? She couldn't even talk without getting tired.

She sighed and moved to stand up, Hoenir rising as well. The silent stranger followed her around like a shadow. He sat in front of her hut with his sword drawn, only letting family and Brynja in. The servant found his mysteriousness and silence charming, Vanya found it eerie. She yearned for human contact, not a silent wall lurking around. Ivar spent every waking moment by her side as well, always checking on her and touching her in some way. More for his sanity than her's.

He didn't check on their son either, too afraid to leave her alone. Vanya was thankful for his protectiveness; she missed it. But she yearned for her son as well, what if he was sick as well?

Vanya made her way towards their chambers and laid down to sleep with Ivar by her side, wrapped around her like a vice, but still somehow comforting. She could feel his chest fall and rise against her back, but sleep wouldn't take her. Her eyes were wide open, and her heartbeat frantically, on guard despite being safe. Nightmares plagued her rest nearly every night, dreams of drowning, freezing, or waking up to her son's corpse in her arms.

Everyone treated her like a broken toy, too scarred by what happened to her to be whole again. In the end, Silas had won. Nine months ago, he sent her here to wither and die. And now she looks half dead and feels hollow. With a shuttering breath, Vanya slowly crawled out of Ivar's arms and into the street, walking past Hoenir, who slept by the door. She shook him awake and made him follow her to the hut where Silas is held.

"Are you sure you want to see him?" The Silent wandered questioned her, but the ginger only nodded and ordered the guards to let her in.

The hut was lit with candles and smelled of wine and piss. Two aromas that Silas always despised, how fitting that it would be the last things he would know. "She lives." A voice rasped from a corner startling her.

With some difficulty and grunts, Silas rose from his hiding place behind the bed. He looked just as bad as her. Two days in a cell, and he was filthy, drunk, and pathetic. It suited him, pain, and despair. "You look terrible."

He chuckled and collapsed back into a chair, the furniture nearly topping over from the force. "I always imagined myself immortal. Forever alive and in people's minds. And here I am. Covered in piss, looking like some kitchen rat." He spat on the ground glaring at everything around him.

Vanya took his sorry state in, tucking it into the back of her mind to remember him by. Not the cruel King with a crown on his head, but as nothing better than a beggar with one foot in the grave. "You are human, just like everyone else. Everyone dies, Silas. Even Kings."

Silas scoffs and hurls his cup towards her, the guards and Hoenir barge in but stand back when Vanya raises a hand, palm facing Silas. "It's alright. Please leave." The three men leave brother and sister alone to talk. One last conversation before Silas pays for his crimes.

Her brother watches the display of power that Vanya possesses and reached towards the last piece of bread he had left. He tore at it like a savage, disgusting even himself. All his grace and power stripped away by his sister, how the tables have turned. "You mean Father, don't you?"

Vanya looked at him, puzzled, unaware of what he meant by the comment. But Silas didn't wait for her to question him, he pointed the finger at her and chuckled. "You always talked of that bastard. Alive or dead, you worshipped him, even though there was nothing special about him. You have no idea what kind of inconsiderate prick he was."

"Father was a good person, far better than you or me." Vanya insisted, not letting him insult their late father.

Silas sneered and threw a piece of bread at her, that she batted away before it hit her face. She frowned at his ridiculous behavior, fed up with his dramatics. "Of course, you would think that you were his favorite. You were the obedient child with big sad doe eyes. Do you know what I was? I was the embarrassment, the reject. I was three, and he called me a monster. All because I didn't follow his rules."

The ginger shook her head and walked closer to Silas. "Father loved you, but you were always so quick to start a fight. He tried to make you a good king, but you rejected him, and now here we are."

"Ah, yes, here we are. The Monster and the Gifted one." Silas swallowed the last piece of bread and spread his arms wide in a mocking gesture. He didn't love me, or you or anyone else. Osmond used people, you stupid wench! He married a girl half his age, filled her with seed, and when the child didn't meet his expectations, he threw them both away and fucked everything pretty. And then you were born, perfect little Vanya - the Gracious gift of God. You nodded along to everything and did as he said. Other than me, who had his own opinions."

Vanya scoffed and licked her dry lips to hold back the foul words on the tip of her tongue. "Father was a good King and a better parent than Mother. You spat, beat, and laughed at other children. You were always rotten, Silas. And Father knew it, so did Mother."

"I did it to get attention; no one would pay attention to the reject! Before you were born, I was the perfect firstborn. But not to him! To Father, I was the little monstrosity that refused to keep quiet about his affair. I was three and saw him fucking another woman. I told Mother, and he grew angry with me, by the time you were born, I was a bastard in their eyes. The one that destroyed their marriage, as if I was the one getting his dick wet behind my wife's back."

The princess stared at Silas in shock, Osmond always said that his son was born cruel. To think all of the cruelty, hate, and violence came from their parent's treatment. Siflaed was a neglectful mother, and it turns out Osmond was no better. Vanya always saw him as a smart man with good intentions, when in truth, he was nothing like that.

"He was a good King, true. But a terrible Father, husband, and person. Just like me." Silas smirked at his small victory, while Vanya frowned at him. "He treated you better because you were naive and gullible. All the talk of duty, putting the kingdom first and God. You were born to be a bargaining chip, just like Mother, married off to the highest bidder. Face it; there is no kindness in our blood."

"I am not you or them!" Vanya insisted, causing Silas to laugh.

"If that's what you like to believe."

Vanya slammed her hands against the table, startling Silas. She huffed and got in his face, her eyes as cold as ice. "You did horrible things to me and everyone around you. I am nothing like you."

"If you want to blame anyone, then blame Stithulf."

"Stithulf didn't order men to murder three people!" Vanya spat at him, remembering the blonde man who talked to her about Silas as a King. How charming he seemed, the two-faced bastard.

"He reminded me what a threat you and your child pose to my reign. He told me the only way to ensure my glory and throne was to kill anyone who wants to take it away. First you and your child, then Mother's brother Æthelric. He said I was meant to rule, that the world would remember me. And they will. These heathens of yours will kill me, probably torture as well. And the church will name me a martyr for my faith, and history will remember me as Silas the Great." Silas boasted, throwing his arms around and nearly falling out of his chair in the process.

Vanya shook her head and looked at the cross on his desk, the one he gifted her, their father's cross. "Only those who lived a righteous life can be names martyrs. You executed, hurt, and humiliated people. You are no saint, Silas, and the church won't care for your death. Terrible people don't go to heaven."

The older Saxon rose from the chair and leaned against the table, looking into his wine cup. "Then, I shall see you in Hell. That's where you heathen scum will all go. And we can burn side by side as we did in our cribs." He raised his cup and downed it in one go before letting it slip through his fingers and hit the ground. "Farewell, Sister."

He stumbled towards his bed and collapsed on it face first, his white shirt falling lower, exposing his shoulder blades. Vanya watched his naked back, she then turned on her heel and left the hut to return to her own. She made a decision. Yesterday Ivar explained to her all the ways Vikings executed people, and one seemed perfect to Vanya now.

Her husband sat up in their bed, looking at Vanya with tired eyes. "Where did you go? Are you hurt?"

"Blood eagle," Vanya answered, confusing Ivar further.

"What?"

She sighed and sat down next to him, looking into his eyes. "The way we should kill Silas. You should Blood Eagle him after the naming ceremony." She explained as Ivar nodded, still confused about the sudden decision.

Vanya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling her shoulders get lighter. As if the weight on them dropped, making breathing easier than before. She opened her icy eyes again and stared into her husband's stormy hues. "What is it, Min elskede (My beloved)?"

She chuckled at the tender tone, having missed the endearment more than she thought was possible. "I was terrified out there, Ivar. I thought I would never see you or Kattegat ever again." Tears gathered in her eyes, her lips shaking from the oncoming sobs.

Ivar cupped her cheek and wiped her tear away with his thumb. "You are here now. And nobody will ever take you away from me. I will never let anyone harm you or our son again."

Vanya sobbed and flung herself into his arms, breathing in his scent and hugging him tightly, as if it was all a dream that would disappear if she let go. "From now on, you never have to be afraid, Vanya. I will protect you both. No one, not even death, will ever lay a hand on you again!"

Ivar kissed her temple before she pulled back and stared into his eyes, looking for any sign of lies or uncertainty. But she found none, all she saw was honesty and rage. Anger that he let anyone harm them. "You have to swear it, Ivar! Promise me." She begged desperately, afraid to ever have to fight for her life again.

"I promise and swear on my life and the Gods. I will never, ever let anyone harm you or our son. No matter what it might take to keep you both safe, I will do everything and more to protect you. From now on, you'll both be safe and sound. I oath not to enter Vallhalla if I brake this promise. I swear on my arm ring."

Vanya leaned against his chest and sighed in satisfaction, with one less problem on her mind, she slept easier. Her son's absence still plagued her mind, but the sooner everything was done, the sooner she could have him in her arms again.

The next morning, five days since their son's birth, they all stood gathered in the Great Hall once again, revealing the plan to Blood Eagle Silas. "And who will do it? Ivar can't stand." Sigurd pointed out, making his brother snarl at him.

"It doesn't matter. We can give him a chair, or let someone else do it." Vanya jumped in before a fight broke out. She was in no mood to watch them argue; the most important thing right now is that Silas dies; it doesn't matter by whose hand.

Everyone nodded, looking at the wedded couple glued to each other's hip. Vanya still looked sick and weak, but the more she clung to Ivar, the straighter her back got, and the higher she held her head. She was gaining back the confidence she gathered during her nine months of marriage to their brother. There were still bits of fear and edginess visible, but with Ivar and Hoenir shadowing her, she breathed easier.

"You are on edge." Sigurd pointed out, voicing what everyone was thinking. Vanya locked gaze with him and smiled to reassure them.

"I..." A cry interrupted her sentence; a child was crying somewhere. "I miss my son, that's all. They still won't let me see him."

Aslaug frowned at the information and looked at her youngest son for confirmation. Ivar nodded and took Vanya's hand in his, trying to comfort his sad wife. The Queen rose from her seat and left the Ragnarssons, Vanya, Torvi, and Hoenir.

When she returned, it was with the sound of a crying infant. She opened the door with a babe in her arms, cradling it softly, trying to calm it down. "Mother?" Questioned Ubbe, confused, carrying his nephew towards Vanya.

The ginger looked at Aslaug bewildered, as the older woman laid the child into her arms. "You went through hours of horrendous labor and near death for this child. If anyone deserves to hold him, it is you." Aslaug smiled at Vanya, who hugged her son closer to her, the boy calming down the moment he smelled her scent.

The child reached out with his little hand and grasped a fiery lock, playing with it while staring up at her, sniffling slightly. Vanya smiled at his teary gaze and wiped his tears, stroking his smooth chubby cheek. "Looks like he just missed his mother. What a surprise from Ivar's child."

Aslaug and Vanya frowned at Sigurd's comment but ignored it as Ivar was too engrossed at looking at the little version of himself in his wife's arms. "That is the safest child in Kattegat." Hvitserk pointed out, looking at the calm baby slobbering over Vanya's hair.

Bjorn snorted and patted Vanya and Ivar on the shoulder. "With a mother ready to burn kingdoms down and a father into ritual sacrifice? It only fits with a grandson of Ragnar Lothbrok."

The others nodded along while Vanya looked at Ivar with a raised eyebrow. At Ivar's confused stare, she smiled down at the babe. "Hold your hands out, Ivar. You should hold him too."

Ivar looked at the frail newborn and shook his head. "I will drop him, Vanya."

The redhead rolled her eyes and passed the child towards him despite his protests. "You are holding him with your arms, not your legs. Bond with him, he didn't see that much of you." She spoke softly, not meaning it in a mean way.

With tender eyes, Ivar looked at his son, noting the wiggling legs under the fur. He would walk one day, run around just like Ivar's brothers could. At least in something, the gods were merciful; they listened to his prayers and made his son strong and healthy. Just like his mother prophesied, and his son would be like his grandmother. He would have visions, Hoenir, and Aslaug were sure of it.

"Did you think of a name?" Ubbe asked, watching his serene nephew.

"Yes. But it's a surprise." Vanya revealed giggling at Torvi and Hvitserk, cooing at the babe who frowned at them in return.

In the heathen culture, nine days after a babe is born, the naming ceremony is held. Vatni ausinn is a ritual where the father acknowledges the child and names it. Ivar sat in a chair with their son on his knee, sprinkling the babe with water.

"My son, Aros!" He announced to the room while his babe everyone cheered in delight. Ubbe nudged Vanya, who stood next to him, clapping. The redhead looked up at him with a questioning look at the older males smug look.

"From the river's mouth? Really?" He asked about the name meaning while Vanya shrugged.

"It fits, does it not?"

"I guess it does." He looked back towards his little brother, cradling his firstborn lovingly. "Aros Ivarsson."

After the ceremony, Ivar and Vanya returned to their hut, with Hoenir following behind them. Her husband was about to order some thralls to fill their tub with water when Brynja ran towards them. "Wait, My Prince. Let me do it. I would like to spend some time with Vanya anyway. If you were to permit it."

Ivar looked at Vanya in question, but the ginger smiled at him reassuringly. "Go. I could use a distraction before tomorrow. And Hoenir will be outside; we will be fine. Have fun with your brothers." She reassured him, kissing his forehead and sending him off.

The Prince and wanderer left the hut, the girls cold Hoenir sitting outside on the bench, but ignored his presence. Vanya turned on her heel to look at Brynja, who smiled at her softly, her eyes glassy.

"What's wrong? Are you unwell?" Vanya frantically ran to the other redhead's side, pulling her towards the bed to sit down. Brynja laughed at the worried mother and shook her head, her curls bouncing around her.

"I am just happy to see you again. My life would be very boring without you, My Princess." She confessed, hugging Vanya, careful of the sleepy babe in her arms. Vanya embraced the older ginger with her left arm, enjoying the affection Brynja gave her.

Truth is Brynja is her only true friend here, that she befriended outside of marriage. Of course, Ubbe, Torvi, Hvitserk, and Bjorn are her friends as well. But if it weren't for her marriage to Ivar, she would have never talked to them. Vanya liked to believe her, and Brynja would be friends even if it weren't for Ivar. If she ever were to get divorced, Brynja would still be her friend.

The curly-haired ginger had a pure heart, contagious smile, and shared Vanya's love for children. She gave the best advice and listened to her complaining without any remarks. For every complaint Vanya told her, Brynja gave two. Servant or not, she was a good girl and an even better friend.

"I bought you a gift!" Brynja cheered, letting Vanya put Aros into his crib. Floki made it for the babe from the boat meant to serve as their coffin if they were found dead. It was quite morbid, but Vanya didn't mind it that much, and Aros seemed comfortable.

The Viking girl showed her a present wrapped in a cloth. She laid it on Vanya's lap and mentioned for her to open it. Brynja was giddy, and in turn, Vanya became giddy as well, she unwrapped the gift and looked inside to see the neckline of a dress. The fabric was blue with white lacings.

"You bought me a dress?" Vanya asked, confused, looking up at the sheepish ginger.

"Made actually. It's not as pretty as the ones you make or the ones you buy. I don't know how to make dresses like that, so it's plainer." Brynja apologized, frowning down at the dress, no longer as excited as before.

Vanya shook her head and walked towards the mirror with the gift in hand. Watching herself in the mirror, Vanya marveled at the simple dress. It wasn't as lavish as the dresses Vanya was used to having, but she liked its look. "It's beautiful. I bet it's comfortable as well." She reassured the other female twirling around with the dress to see it flow in the air.

"I made it for your name day, but I didn't get to give it to you." With a bashful smile, Brynja watched the Princess gush over the dress. It took her a long time to make the dress, but the smile was worth all her frustration with the fabric. And all the times her father laughed at her pricking her finger.

Vanya turned on her heel and looked at Brynja, shocked. "You wasted money on me!" She cried out mortified, the fact that the poor girl bought fabric to create the dress. But Brynja shook her head and shrugged the issue off.

The young mother carefully set the dress down on the bed and skipped to her wardrobe to look inside. "You must choose one of mine, even if you sell it. I can't just accept a gift like that and give you nothing in return!"

Brynja shook her head at the frantic Princess and observed her rummaging through all the dresses she owned. "That's what gifts are for, Vanya. You give them out of love, not expecting anything back."

"Nonsense!" Vanya fussed and turned towards the other ginger. Brynja's smile was tired, and her eyes pleading. She didn't want anything in return, but that didn't sit with Vanya. "Choose whatever dress you want. If not for yourself, then for me. You gave me a gift out of love. So chose yours."

Brynja smiled at that and walked to the closet to find a dress for herself. In the end, she chose a purple one with long dark sleeves. "Purple. Like your favorite flowers."

"You remember?" Brynja blinked at Vanya in astonishment while Vanya mockingly rolled her eyes, smirking.

She circled the older female in front of the mirror and stopped behind her, propping her chin on her shoulder. "Of course, I remember. I always remember small things like that. But don't ask me anything important. I do forget these things very easily." Brynja chuckled and felt the soft fabric with her fingers, liking the feel of it. It was obviously expensive, but the servant wouldn't complain to Vanya. "How is your father, anyway? Is he better?"

Brynja hummed and laid the dress on the bed, neatly folding it and wrapping it in the cloth from Vanya's gift. "Stronger every day, which he keeps showing off. I think he fell in love with the neighbor's widow. He keeps running around shirtless and lifting heavy things."

Vanya laughed at the image of Brynja's father only in his breeches, smiling every time he sees the widow. "Maybe he is taking the lack of children in his own hands. Trying to create some little ones on his own."

"Oh, gods! I hope not; he is too old." Brynja gagged and smirked at Vanya, crowding closer and whispering into her ear. "I would rather make some of my own. But there are no men good enough."

The Princess sighed and sat down on her bed, looking up at the cheeky ginger. "And why are you whispering? Are you afraid that the man outside might hear?"

"I saw his face once, quite handsome. A bath would do him wonders. And new clothes." Brynja confessed, gushing over Hoenir. The seventeen-year-old mother shook her head, and teasingly smiled at Brynja.

"My, my, is someone in love?"

"Hush, Vanya! Or I will regret missing you at all!" Brynja joked back, fake glaring at the taller girl, while she laughed it off. It was good to be back and joke around, forgetting what is going to happen tomorrow.

The two girls walked to the door after the bath was prepared, saying goodbye for the night. Vanya watched her go with a small smile, thankful for her visit. She then turned on her heel and sat down next to Hoenir, who looked at her in confusion.

At least she suspected it to be confusion; it's hard to tell in the dark when he has his hood on. "I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me in my dreams."

"No need to do that. You would have survived anyway; I had a vision of our meeting. It couldn't happen if you died before we met. My job now is to make certain you don't die from here on." His voice was smooth, yet a little bit rusty and monotone like always. She wondered if he felt any emotions or just his them pretty well.

"Then I thank you for that instead. But I wish for you to find a hut, not just a bench or a piece of fur outside of ours."

Hoenir shook his head and looked down at her cold frame. "I need to be near if somebody were to attack you."

"Ivar will be with me."

"Doesn't mean you will be safe."

Vanya sighed and looked out towards the sleepy streets of Kattegat, smiling softly. "I am safe. I am home, surrounded by friends and family. I have nothing to fear."

Hoenir scoffed and leaned back, ignoring the persistent ginger by his side. Vanya looked at him, expecting an explanation of his behavior, but he gave her none. "Say what you want to, Hoenir. If we are to spend a lot of time together, you should be able to say what you want to."

"You are very annoying."

"I know. Get used to it." She smiled at him cheekily, causing him to shake his head and stand up. Vanya looked at him in confusion, till he pointed at a crawling shape in the dark.

"Your husband's coming. And I have a hut to find. I don't want to hear anything I shouldn't." Vanya nodded, satisfied until the meaning behind the words hit her.

"We wouldn't if you were outside! That's so improper!" She scolded him, blushing madly. Did Hoenir really think that she and Ivar would sleep together if he were right outside their door?

He shrugged his broad shoulders and pulled his cloak tighter around his body. "You never know. I believe I have to take a bath, as well."

Vanya looked at him, shocked, and blushed even harder. "You heard?"

"Some of it. I am a better listener than a talker. So get used to it as well, Princess."

"Call me, Vanya. Please."

"As you wish, Vanya. Goodnight, Sleep well. Both of you." With that, Hoenir sidestepped Ivar on the porch and stalked off towards a random hut, entering it and closing the door behind him.

"Whose hut it that?" She questioned her husband, who watched the wanderer walk off as well.

"His. Mother gave it to him." He shrugged, crawling inside with Vanya behind him bewildered. The wretched man had a home all along and stayed in front of their hut instead. She didn't know if to be moved by his dedication or annoyed by his stubbornness. "Did you take your bath yet?"

"Not yet." She had her back turned to him while he sat by the tub. She put the dress away and slowly unbraided her hair. "Did you make a decision on who will kill Silas?"

"I will do it. Torvi went into labor. He will be with her, and I will Blood Eagle the little Monster." Ivar boasted pridefully, making her sigh.

She brushed through her hair and put the tie that kept it together safely away to find it in the morning. "Let's hope the Gods are with Torvi, and the child will be born soon."

"If it's born sooner, Bjorn can kill your brother in my steed. It should be me killing him! I thought I lost two of the most important people in my life. He didn't worry about you two as I did!" Ivar complained as he dragged himself towards the fire chairs by the fire and poured himself a cup of ale.

"Ivar." Vanya scolded, untying the laces of her dress. "Torvi shouldn't suffer so that Silas can die by your hand. She deserves better."

"I think so too, but she is the one who married Bjorn."

Vanya spun on her heel, annoyed by his words. She froze with her mouth open, looking at him sitting there sipping on his cup. He raised his eyebrow at her sudden silence and waited for her mind to start working again.

"Put a shirt on, Ivar! I am trying to scold you!" Ivar smirked at her flustered state and leaned back in the chair, showing off his naked chest.

"Why? Do you not like the view." He asked cheekily, making her pout and skip over to him. Kissing his lips, to wipe the smug look off his face, Vanya pulled back, raising an eyebrow at his satisfied face.

"You are a pain, husband. You are lucky I love you."

Ivar grinned at her teasing words and kissed her knuckles, gazing into her steel-blue eyes. "Good. I would be hurt if you didn't." Vanya chuckled softly and connected their lips again, enjoying being in Ivar's arms once again. "What would I be without my Freyja."

Vanya groaned at his question and slapped his shoulder pouting. The Ragnarsson frowned at her reaction, hurt by her dismissal. "I used to think you were the cleverest man alive. And here you are calling me a goddess like the rest of them. I am not Freyja or Frigg!"

Vanya stood up from his lap, dropped her dress, and stepped into the wooden bathtub. Ivar shook his head and put his cup down, looking at her seriously. "You are perfect, full of light and love. You love me despite everything I am and didn't blame me once for your suffering. Vanya, you are my wife, a survivor, and the mother of my child, far more powerful than you believe yourself to be. Min elskede (My beloved), you are either a gift from the Gods or a Goddess yourself, I have no doubts about that."

Vanya smiled at his loving words, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Do you really think I'm powerful?"

He chuckled at her question and pointed at himself. "I, for one, find you terrifying." She grinned at the answer and bashfully looked down into the water, trying to hide her blush behind a curtain of red locks. "Who else sees you as a goddess anyway?"

"The people do. And Sigurd as well."

Ivar frowned at the last part and sourly drank the rest of his ale, while Vanya silently laughed at his jealousy. "He believes me to be a goddess because I endure you. But it's not such a hard task as everyone makes it out to be. I enjoy your presence quite a bit." She smirked secretly; her head turned to pick up a cloth to clean herself with. When she turned around, Ivar's face was close to hers, startling her.

The rag would have hit the floor if it wasn't for him catching it. The corner of his perfect lips lifted at Vanya's wide-eyed stare. He seemed like a predator, watching his prey, enjoying every second of the hunt. "I enjoy your presence, as well, obviously."

"Obviously." Vanya echoed, hypnotized by his hungry stare, his eyes like a raging storm, pulling her in deeper. She leaned in to connect their lips, but Ivar pulled away and crawled towards the beds to look at their child instead. She scoffed at his teasing and cleaned herself, pouting the whole time.

She expected Ivar to leave her alone after his stunt, but luckily for her, he had other plans. The moment she sat down on their bed, he kissed her and laid her down on the furs, making love to her carefully, in case she was still in pain after giving birth not that long ago.

The next morning, they were woken up by their son, whining in his bed, hungry and rested. They both groaned, exhausted from last night's lovemaking. Ivar sat up in bed, lifted Aros, and handed him to Vanya so she could nurse their little treasure.

"Silas will be bought to the Hall after our meal," Ivar informed her, watching her for any sign of hesitancy. But there was none. She decided he deserved to die even before Aros was born, and the fact that he threatened her son's life was the last nail in his coffin. Silas would die a painful death and burn in Hell for all eternity.

"Then let's go. The sooner we eat, the sooner this will all be over. And I can gust over Bjorn's and Torvi's baby." Vanya spoke, burping Aros while Ivar got dressed. After he was done, he took the babe from her and allowed her to clothe herself as well.

When she laced up her white dress and braided her hair, she walked towards Ivar and took the babe from his embrace, smoothing down the little hairs on Aros's head. Ivar picked up his axe and put it on his belt, so he wouldn't have to return for it later. When Vanya saw this, she frowned. "Wait."

Ivar looked at her, confused, waiting for her to continue. She laid Aros down on their bed, ensuring he was secure and walked over to her husband again. She took his axe and trailed her finger the edge, testing the sharpness. The sharp bite of the blade and the bead of blood that flowed down her finger reassured her that it was indeed ready to be used.

The execution would be smoother this way, which meant the whole ordeal wouldn't take too long. No matter her hate for Silas, she would hate for him to suffer under a dull blade. He always said he deserved the best, Vanya thought that should include the weapon that would kill him too.

Ivar gazed up at her, not sure to question her behavior or not. She seemed like she was in a trance, too deep in her mind to remember that she wasn't alone. He softly pried the weapon from her soft fingers and laid it on his lap, taking her hand into his and sucking on the fingertip to stop the bleeding.

Vanya kneeled in front of him and kissed the steel of his weapon, looking up at him pleadingly. "Make him pay. For everything."

"I will."

After breakfast, everyone gathered as Floki set up the posts where Silas would kneel. Ubbe walked to her side and tried to pull her back, but she wrenched her arm free and glared up at him.

"You don't have to be here, Vanya." Sigurd reminded her from her left, also looking at her with soft eyes like she would brake. As if she was weak, but he was wrong. They were all wrong. Vanya was a survivor like Ivar said.

The ginger shook her head and mentioned for Brynja to join her. She handed the babe to her and ordered Hoenir to take them to Ivar's and her hut. "I must be here. I have to see him die. If I don't, I will never be sure if it's over or not."

Ubbe watched her determined face and nodded, Sigurd on the other hand, scoffed and walked off, obviously displeased. "What is his problem?" Vanya asked, seeing the Ragnarsson stalk off, muttering under his breath.

Ubbe gave her a wry smile and shook his head. "He believes you to be tainted by Ivar. Sigurd thinks that he is forcing you into this. That he was the one who chose to Blood eagle Silas and not you."

Vanya scoffed at the explanation and glared at the retreating figure of the snake-eyed Viking. "If anybody deserves to see Silas die, then it's me. I was the one who spent three days in the middle of nowhere, freezing, bleeding, and starving. Silas made my life a living hell from the moment I can remember. I want him to suffer."

"I understand that. But Sigurd still sees you as that timid Princess who was forced to marry Ivar. Many of us do, but you have changed. You are stronger than before, more confident as well. But you don't have to force yourself. You did nearly faint at the mention of blood only nine months ago. No one would blame you if you needed to get some air."

Vanya smiled up at the worried Ragnarsson and linked her arms with his. "Then would you be so kind as to stand with me and catch me if I do faint? After all, you are my only friend left in the room."

Ubbe chuckled at that and led her towards a place near the door to have a good view and an escape route. Silas was dragged in by his arms, spitting insults at the men in English, not caring if they understood him or not. He was pulled on top of the podium and chained to the wooden posts, while a chair was positioned behind for Ivar to sit on. The Ragnarsson dragged himself up and sat down, looking for his wife, relieved to see her with Ubbe.

After a nod from her, he raised the axe and cut into Silas's flesh, a scream echoing around the hall. Vanya watched the display emotionlessly, taking in Silas's screams. They disgusted her; she wanted to cry but had no tears to shed. It was as if her heart and mind were two different entities, disagreeing with each other about what reaction to give. She hated the sight of blood, hated his screams and pain. But found relief in it.

He was dying in front of her eyes, and she was horrified by the display. But not enough to look away. Ubbe squeezed her hand in a silent question if she was ok. She shrank back but kept looking, cringing from time to time at the violence. This is the last time she would see death; she couldn't handle so much gore ever again.

"Vanya!" Silas screamed out between his cries for mercy, catching her eye in the crowd. Vanya locked gazes with his pleading one, her eyes cold and empty, a coverup of the turmoil in her core. "Please!"

She shook her head, keeping her head held high, not showing any sign of hesitance or weakness. She wanted Silas to see what he caused in her eyes before he died.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they who mourn,

for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they shall be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful,

for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure of heart,

for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they shall be called children of God.

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Vanya repeated in her mind, remembering how their mother drilled the words into their minds as children. If Silas is truly a martyr, then he will be reunited with God, which she doubts, but maybe it will give comfort to Silas. The blond King kept screaming as Ivar drew the lungs from his body, putting it on his shoulders, his time on earth coming short. "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." She whispered underneath her breath, seeing the life fade from Silas's eyes and his head fall.

He was dead.

#vikings #vikings imagine #history vikings #ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar #original character #original female character

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mcrninqstar · 3 years

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discord: it’s you. it’s always been you.

SUMMARY: Lucifer accidently sends Maze the wrong text leading her to believe her best friend is dead. He goes to her to clarify and they end up revealing more to each other than they anticipated. TRIGGERS: Death Mentions, Daddy Issues, Mommy Issues WRITTEN WITH: @mazikeenofmurders

MAZIKEEN: She'd been in Hell, torturing Will when she got the update from Lucifer. Charlie's dead now. She'd seen a lot of people die in her lifetime. Most of the time it didn't bother her, but Charlie was her best friend. It was heartbreaking. Her chest felt restricted, and her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away before anyone could see them. If Charlie had ended up in Hell, Maze should've been told, but no one came while she let out her anger on Will, which meant that she'd gone to heaven and that Maze wouldn't be able to see her again. She let Belphegor continue torturing Will on their own while she went back to her own place in Hell. She didn't tell Belphegor the news yet. They'd need to figure out how to break that down to them. They were already upset enough that she'd been hurt. Maze had diverted their sadness to anger, but handling her death would be harder. Maze remained stoic until she got home and saw a picture of Charlie, Lucifer, and herself in a frame on one of the walls. She picked it up and broke down into tears, clutching it to her chest as she laid down on her bed. Now she'd really never get Charlie to sleep with her and Lucifer. That made her cry more.

LUCIFER: "Well, that was bloody awful," Lucifer lamented as he appeared in Maze's home. He needed someone to complain to about this. He'd already tried calling Linda a couple times but she declined the calls on account that it was close to 2am now. "Maze?" he called out to her. She wasn't in the living room, but he could feel her presence about. He figured she must've gone to bed. Surely she wouldn't mind being woken up to some good news. Lucifer helped himself to the bar, pouring two glasses of champagne and placing them on a tray. He carried them into Maze's room like some sort of fancy butler. He expected to find her maybe in some sexy little number or maybe nothing at all. But what he hadn't expected was to find her crying. "Mazikeen..." he lowered the tray onto the nightstand beside her. "Why are you crying? I thought you'd be over the moon, honestly..." Becoming Death was one hell of a promotion, especially for a human reaper. Charlie had essentially ascended to an angelic form of being. It was unheard of for humans to do that. It was historic and spicy and no doubt causing Uriel to panic a little. Lucifer very much liked that idea. But Maze...he'd never seen her like this.

MAZIKEEN: She heard it distantly when someone came into her home. Sometimes the other demons tried to sneak into her place to fight her when she was off guard. She was never really off guard, but she could recognize Lucifer's presence. Archangels like him radiated power that was unmistakable, especially him. She didn't move when he called her name. She didn't want him to see her crying like this, but she couldn't stop. It hurt too much. Charlie had been too important to her. "I'm not crying," she insisted, even as her voice cracked and tears spilled down her face. The picture frame she'd been clutching left imprints on her arms as she sat up. She sniffled as she wiped at her face, but more tears kept coming. She looked at Lucifer with confusion. "Why would I be over the moon about this?" she asked. Why was he? What was good about any of this? "She's gone, Lucifer." She took in a breath trying to push back the tears, but it just distorted her face. Admitting that she was gone was hard. It was possibly one of the hardest things she ever had to do, and she dealt with Cuphegor all the time.

LUCIFER: "Right, of course," he nodded and sat down at her bed side. She was too crying but he wasn't going to call her out on it. He simply pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket square and held it out to her. He had no idea what brought this on. Maze normally loved when he sent people out to be tortured by her specifically. William especially had been a thorn at her side. What he'd done now warranted permanent death so naturally he figured Maze would be happy about that but she wasn't. She was crying about someone being gone. It didn't take long to realize she was talking about Charlie. "She's not gone," he replied, placing his hands on either side of her and rubbing down the length of her arms in a reassuring manner. "I mean, I don't really know where she's at right now specifically. She's kind of hiccupping in and out of afterlives and I'm not allowed entry into some of them because of politics. But she's very much alive...unalive...sort of dead?" he sighed trying to figure out how to explain it. "She's Death now." He didn't see what was so bad about that. Maybe it was because Maze couldn't hug her? "I mean, sure, it would be ill advised to touch her at the moment but you'll be able to give her a hug when she reigns her powers in a bit. Raphael said they'd help."

MAZIKEEN: She took the handkerchief he offered her and wiped the tears off her face, still not admitting that they were tears, not that he was insisting they were or anything. He hadn't argued her lie, and she appreciated it. She leaned against him as he rubbed her arms. She thought he was giving her some spiel about how their afterlives didn't really mean they were gone or something. That wouldn't have made a difference to Mazikeen if she couldn't see Charlie herself, but that wasn't what he was talking about. She wasn't sure what he was talking about actually. "What do you mean she's alive? You texted me and told me she was dead." Her voice was raising angrily. She'd been so upset. "You made me think my best friend died!" She hit him in the chest as she spoke. "I was crying because I thought I lost her!" She spoke with a mixture of shouting and sobbing.

LUCIFER: "What do you mean? No I didn't," he defended as she shouted that he sent her a text saying Charlie was dead. He pulled out his phone to try to get a look at what he said but she started smacking him. He swatted her away briefly to take a peak and sure enough...he grimaced. Bloody autocorrect. "That was meant to say she's Death, not she's dead," he corrected, not that it mattered in hindsight. "I wouldn't break that kind of news to you over a text message, Maze," he tried to assure her calmly. "That's Levi levels of avoidance. I'd send a carrier pigeon at least." Perhaps it wasn't the best time for jokes but that was really the only way he knew how to work through the kind of day he had. It wasn't exactly easy having to run a death scythe into an old friend and hope for the best.

MAZIKEEN: "Yes, you did!" she snapped. She'd read over the text several times just to make sure she'd read it right because that news was so serious. It didn't make a difference to her now that it was a typo. If anything, she was more furious that he hadn't noticed the typo before he'd sent it, or even that he didn't see that it had changed once he had sent it. He could've corrected it immediately and saved her the heartbreak of thinking she'd lost her friend. "A carrier pigeon?!" she repeated angrily, not finding his jokes as funny as he did in the moment when she was still reeling from thinking her friend had died. She started hitting him. "You're so stupid! I can't believe I fell in love with you, you asshole! Who jokes about that?!"

LUCIFER: "In my defense a lot was going on," he lamented, still wanting to complain about the situation. "I wasn't exactly sipping Bacardi with Raphael up there." He might've put too much faith in his phone to get the message across. "I knew you were worried about Charlie's condition and I wanted to get the news to her ASAP. I had a million and one things I needed to do to secure the veil after everything happened and I wouldn't have had time to come down to hell until well...now. I didn't think it was fair for you to wait that long." He was trying to ease her nerves but thanks to his phone he'd done the opposite. He grimaced as soon as the pigeon joke left his lips and braced himself for another round of smacking. It didn't hurt and he let her carry on. It was best to just let Maze air out her frustrations rather than let them fester. He expected her to insult him. That was par for the course. But he hadn't expected her to say the other thing. He sat up a little straighter and held her firmly so that she would stop hitting him and look at him instead. "You don't...you can't...you don't mean that, do you?" he asked her in all seriousness.

MAZIKEEN: Realistically, she couldn't blame him too much for what had happened. All in all, it was a simple mistake, and anger was the main way she knew to release her emotions. She knew Lucifer knew that, and there were ways she could make it up to him later when she wasn't emotional. She sighed. "I guess I do appreciate you trying to tell me as soon as possible, even if you did fuck it up." She really did appreciate that, considering how worried she'd been about Charlie. "So I really can't hug her though?" She was one of the people Maze actually liked to hug. Lucifer was also one of them, but him grabbing her took her by surprise. He probably just was getting annoyed with her constantly hitting him, but most of her anger had gotten out now. She sighed. "You are kinda an asshole sometimes, but I like it most of the time."

LUCIFER: "Well, someone will suffer for the ill conceived attempts of autocorrect," he assured her. It wasn't going to be him, but someone would. Surely there was probably a demon to blame for this. "Probably Sam," he offered, hoping that would lift her spirits some with another soul to torture. "Charlie managed to separate him and his evil twin. She dragged the parasitic one here. Not sure which kingdom but when we find him, he's all yours," he replied, still running his hand up and down her arm in a comforting gesture. "No, I'm afraid you can't hug her for now. She's deadly to everything except the Archangels now." Although Charlie was young by comparison, her ranking was up there with Cupid now that she was Death. Love and Death were fundamental forces in the balance of things. "But I'll give her extra hugs on your behalf," he replied. He didn't mind it one bit. Having to stab Charlie wasn't exactly pleasant and he wanted to ensure she was okay every step of the way. His features softened and his grip lightened when she remarked he was an asshole sometimes, but she enjoyed that about him. "That's not what I meant...I meant the other thing you said. The one about falling in love with me..." he clarified so that neither of them could be mistaken this time. "You don't mean that, do you?"

MAZIKEEN: "As they should." She nodded in agreement. She smiled brightly when Lucifer suggested that it would probably be Sam. She'd always wanted to torture him. "Is it my birthday again already?" she asked jokingly. She was a little disappointed that it wasn't both Sams that ended up in Hell, but she guessed that it was good for Charlie's happiness or something. "That's pretty hot," she remarked with a smirk. "It makes me want to try it anyway. I'll tell you what it feels like." She grinned. Lucifer couldn't have all the fun in being the only one of them to be able to hug Charlie. Her smile faltered when he clarified what he'd heard her say. "Ah," so she had actually said that then? She'd thought that part was just in her head, but it was hard to keep a cap on her thoughts when she was that upset. Her chest clenched up. She was trying to gauge his reaction to that before she said anything else, but it was hard to tell how he was feeling about it. The most she could tell was that he was uncertain, but she couldn't decipher if that uncertainty came from disgust at the idea, if he wanted it like she did, if his trauma from the curse just had him scared to trust it, or a combination of a few of those. She sat up straighter, holding herself higher to make sure this confession didn't make her look weaker in any way. If he didn't like it then fuck him anyways. "I do. I've been in love with you for a while now." She let out a breath of air. That was a weird thing she never really thought she'd let out, but it was out there now. She watched Lucifer carefully for his reaction, prepared to backtrack or defend herself if she needed to.

LUCIFER: He was glad to see her smile after the particularly awful news she thought he'd delivered. He knew he'd be paying for that for the next few weeks but for now at least the storm had passed and she knew Charlie was safe. "If your birthday occurred anytime that man nearly dies, you'd be aging at twice the rate," he pointed out. He really did feel for the Winchester's Guardian. That angel had to be doing overtime on most days. "Wear protection," he teased. "Safe hugging to prevent untimely death." Maze wore enough latex that it really shouldn't be a problem. Charlie was careful too. Lucifer had instructed her to go to Val in the meantime for pointers and perhaps a pair of sturdier gloves.

He swallowed back a bit of initial panic when she confirmed that he'd heard her correctly. His automatic thoughts and fears were that his curse was back. Why else would anyone love him? He projected outward confidence because he had to. It was expected of him as King of Hell to know what to do, or at least to look like he knew what he was doing. Maze knew better than most Lucifer had no idea what he was doing. He was a mess just trying his best. Truthfully, the curses had set him back quite a bit. He still struggled, wondering if any of the relationships and connections he'd made in his life were real. Chloe had left him long before the curse was broken and he couldn't blame her. But Maze stuck around. She'd been there before he discovered his curse and she was still there afterward. She'd been there through all of his milestone and all the trials life could've thrown his way. He couldn't have imagined doing any of this without her. In fact, he was certain he couldn't have done it without her. The duties of keeping Hell running and keeping his siblings both happy and alive stretched him thin. He needed a partner and Maze was the best one he could've ever asked for.

If she really did love him, then this was a blessing because as much as the feeling scared him, he loved her too. He hadn't realized how much she did for him until she'd disappeared to the other timeline. He'd been a mess then and so had hell. Since then, he tried to show her that he appreciated her more and more. He tried to do what he could to spend time with her because he didn't know how much time they had left. He realized some time ago if the void was going to take over, she'd be the person he'd want to be with in the end. He thought those feelings were just friendship, but he knew deep down it went deeper than that.

"Okay...." he took a deep breath. "Okay..." he ran his hands up and down her arms as a soothing gesture. "Mazikeen, you are one of the most important people to me. You're the first person I check in with in the mornings and the last one I see before I go to bed. You're..." You're the one person I can see myself spending an eternity with. Just say it Lucifer. Come on. "The last time I felt like this about someone, it turned out to not be real. How do we know any of this is real?" he questioned. It was an unfair question to place on her but he wanted to be upfront with his fears. He'd known Chloe for all of 4 years when she left. And her leaving left a hole in his belief in love. He'd known Maze for much longer. If this turned out to be a curse and if she left too...he wasn't sure where that would leave either of them.

MAZIKEEN: She laughed a little at his comment about Sam's deaths. "Even better. Maybe I can catch up to you, old man." It wasn't like they really aged anyways. Birthdays were an arbitrary thing they made up just for an excuse to celebrate. They were all too old to actually keep up with their ages, and even if they did, it just made them look so much better despite their ages. "Don't worry. My strap-on has a condom and everything." She grinned. She'd be careful enough, but the thought that her best friend could kill her with just a single touch was exciting and she wanted to see what it felt like. Hopefully, she wouldn't kill herself completely in the process. She wasn't actually suicidal like some people.

Her chest ached seeing that look on his face. As a demon, she considered it a skill of hers that she could recognize the fear in her victims, but Lucifer wasn't a victim. He was her closest friend and the person she was in love with. She usually knew him better than she knew herself most of the time, but she couldn't tell where that panic came from in the moment. Was he as scared of rejecting her as she was of being rejected? Or was he just as scared of allowing himself to love as she was. She knew that with his curse, he'd been hesitant of his relationships, romantic or otherwise. It was part of the reason she'd been so hesitant herself recently about talking about it (though it was mainly because of her own fear). The way he held onto her arms, rubbing them to reassure her, convinced her that this was a rejection, so she prepared herself for it.

She had to admit, he was setting up the rejection nicely. She imagined that he was going the route of asking if they could still be friends so they could still do all of those things. The last time I felt like this about someone... So he did feel the same way about her then, and his panic was about the curse. Even so, the doubt of whether this was real or not hurt. She knew his curse was broken. Cupid had confirmed that. Maze wasn't particularly great at dealing with her emotions, so the pain she felt at his doubt turned to anger. It wasn't rational anger, considering how valid his doubts were, but she was angry nevertheless. How dare he doubt her love?!

"I'm not Chloe," she snapped. "What, do you think that just because I was with her when Cupid broke your connection that it somehow transferred from her into me? Well, it didn't because I've been in love with you for a lot longer than that. I didn't fall in love with you because of a curse. I fell in love with you because unlike everyone else you were always there with me and for me from the day I met you. It wasn't some immediate infatuation. I don't do the love at first sight thing." She barely considered the love thing until she realized it was actually a possibility. "I don't just have the feeling that I love you. I know I love you because I consider the day you picked me to be your right hand one of the best moments of my life, and maybe kicking Azazel's ass made that day better too, but that's not the important part. You are. I like working for you. I like your dirty jokes because I have the same sense of humor. And your corny jokes are awful, but occasionally I'll find myself making them too." She sounded annoyed as she said all of this, only angry that he didn't see it. She shouldn't have been surprised though considering that seemed to run in his family. "I know a lot of people think it's a little extra the way you will do whole musical numbers. I agree, but I fucking love it!"

He looked like he was about to say something, but she cut him off. "I'm not done yet! You wanted to know how I know that this is real, so you're going to hear it all! When I was younger, and practically everyone was doubting me for being your right hand, you didn't. You never doubted my capability to kick their asses and make them shut the fuck up. I fucking love the fact that even though you're an archangel, you trust me to handle myself and fight my own battles. I'd be pissed if you tried to, but I never had to worry about that with you. I never have to worry about most things with you because I trust you. Hell, even your problems I don't mind dealing with. You self-sabotage constantly, and so do I. You've got the the world's biggest daddy issues, and I've got the world's worst mommy issues. But we know how to deal with each other's issues. The drama in your family is exponential, but I don't ever want to stop dealing with it. It's honestly really entertaining, and don't you dare fucking tell them this, or anyone for that matter, but I started to care for them too. Some of them anyways. Just a tiny barely noticeable amount." She probably shouldn't have said that, but she kept going.

"When we came up here together at first and Chloe made you vulnerable, you have no idea how terrified I was. I am your right hand and your bodyguard. I don't usually have to protect you from much because you're an archangel, but there you were getting injured constantly just because you kept going near the thing that was making you vulnerable. I was honestly glad that it was a curse just because it meant that you could be safe again." Sure there were other things that could hurt him but not many. "I was just glad that I didn't have to worry about losing you."

She continued to list off more and more reasons to prove how she knew her love was her own and not from some curse. It spanned from centuries in the past all the way to the present, including the smallest details like the way he laughed when he was scared or the way his hair looked after sex to more major details and events like the fact that she saw him when she looked at Asmodeus or how jealous she felt when she saw the other universe's Maze seeming to have everything with her Lucifer and how glad she was to come home to her own. It took her hours to get through everything, and it was well into the morning now. "And if that's not enough to convince you that this is real, I don't know what is," she huffed. "Cupid's been trying to get me to tell you for ages now, and she wouldn't do that if she had any doubts about my feelings for you being a curse. She might be a pain in the ass half the time, but I know you at least can count on her being genuine about love."

LUCIFER: "At the rate he dies, you'll likely catch up to Aamon or Michael at this point," he joked although he really hoped Sam would slow down a little for Charlie's sake. He chuckled when she replied that her strap-on had a condom. "A paragon of safe sex. I expect no less. I'm sure Charlie will appreciate the sentiment." If anything, Charlie would at least appreciate the jokes and the company. It had been a rough few hours for her. Those hours spanned days in hell. Days that Maze must've spent feeling anxious about her friend's wellbeing. No wonder she'd reacted so poorly to his faux pas.

He was hoping to make it up to her, but it was clear his hesitation was contributing to her anxiety. Being a demon from Aamon's kingdom, that anxiety naturally expressed itself with rage. He flinched as she snapped at him. He swallowed hard when she replied that she'd been in love with him for a lot longer than he'd been cursed. Maybe they'd looked at the curse all wrong then. Maybe it was there from the beginning. Maybe Chloe wasn't the original victim, but rather Mazikeen. The thought of that ached and hurt more than anything. She was his best advisor and his closest friend. The thought of their closeness potentially being driven by a curse was a hurt that threatened to tear his chest open, but continued to listen. It was best not to interrupt her when she was in one of these passionate rages.

His features softened and his panic started to drop off slightly as she started listing tangible things she liked about him. Love curses couldn't go that deep, could they? Cupid had told him even the strongest curses can only mimic a base and superficial love. What Maze was describing didn't feel superficial. She'd also said that real love felt different. It made you feel complete even when you felt like you were falling apart. Maze made him feel that way. She understood him in ways even those around him didn't seem to get.

She didn't try to change him or insist that he be someone else, someone more mature or someone she felt he needed to be in certain situations. She trusted his judgement even when he didn't trust himself necessarily. Apparently not everyone was the same way though. There were people out there that didn't like his musical numbers? He was about to open his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. He closed his mouth and patiently waited as she continued, a smile growing on his face.

Just as he'd been reminiscing about how she never doubted his abilities, it was clear she felt the same way about him never doubting her. He always knew that she was capable. His siblings might have been more powerful than her, but they always knew that Maze was an extension of Lucifer. She wasn't a subordinate, she was family to them. And it was clear Maze felt that they were her family too. That made Lucifer brighten considerably. He knew Maze didn't have a good relationship with her family and sometimes his own relationship with his family was rocky too. But she found her place among them and that was important to him.

She was as afraid of losing him as he was of losing her which was both terrifying and a relief. When she was off in the other timeline, he'd been a mess just thinking about it. It wasn't just the daunting task of finding another right hand if she never came back. It was the inexplicable pain of losing someone whom you couldn't imagine your life without. There was no one in this world or the next that could replace Maze.

"Mazikeen," he cupped her face as she finished, letting her take a few deep breaths to calm down. She looked like she needed a drink too. "I believe you," his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke. The previous panic that it carried was now gone. He really did believe her. He knew Maze well enough to know cursed or not, love was the last thing she wanted to admit to. It took guts to get this far and now it was time for him to show the same kind of bravery. "And I love you too," he smiled. "You make me a better person without trying to change a single thing about me. You listen to my fears and insecurities and you don't let them be the only voice inside my head. When shit hits the fan you are the only person I know I can count on. It's always been you," he replied as he leaned in and kissed her gently. "It's always going to be you."

MAZIKEEN: "He's really got issues if he's going that far." Maze could see the appeal of getting close to death. She liked pushing things that far all the time. Having sex with archangels who could easily end your existence provided a similar thrill, but Maze didn't actually want to die. "Yeah," Maze agreed. "Hopefully becoming death doesn't autocorrect her sense of humor." She was joking just to pick on Lucifer's mistake, but she was a little worried about how this change would affect Charlie. She didn't know everything about what becoming death entailed. She had always been closer to Charlie than Azrael, and Azrael wasn't very social. She hadn't talked much about what being Death was like either. Maze didn't know how much she could help Charlie, or how much any of them could.

She looked at Lucifer angrily as he cupped her face, waiting for him to make fun of her or say that her explanations weren't enough to prove that this was real even though she knew it was. Her expression softened when he said he believed her. "You do?" She asked, relaxing into him now. He'd gone through so much lately that she really didn't expect him to take her at her word. "You do?" She asked again as he told her he loved her too. She felt warmer, and she was smiling brightly. She didn't think she'd been in love before him, and just getting that confirmation was such a relief. She felt lighter and happier. She looked at him in awe as he explained just what made him love her too. "I don't need to change anything about you," she said in defense of him, but she couldn't counter the rest of it. She deepened the kiss. Her hands moved into his hair, pulling on some of the strands, but this kiss was different than their usual make-out sessions. It wasn't just from lust, though she was feeling hornier now. Adding an emotional extension to kissing someone was . . . Interesting to say the least. She might've loved him before, but loving him and knowing he loved her had the most thrill she'd ever known. Cupid could never be told that. She'd never hear the end of how right Cupid was, but this was something Mazikeen had needed to do on her own anyways. Maze smirked as they pulled out of the kiss. "If it's always going to be me, do we need to discuss anything else, or are you going to get me out of these clothes?"

LUCIFER: "There's minor death kinks and then there's whatever Sam's got," he chuckled. He would pass off Linda's number to Sam and maybe even introduce them. She'd get a kick out of an interdimensional client and Sam could really use the help after all of this. He groaned at the joke Maze made about Charlie's humor getting autocorrected. If course she wasn't going to let him live it down. Despite her ribbing at him, he knew there was some truth hidden in her jokes. She was afraid that this whole transition to becoming Death would change Charlie. "She's a little overwhelmed right now, but still Charlie. It's like the second Frozen movie where Elsa transitions into the fifth natural force," he giggled to himself. "You know, that sort of makes you Anna. I've seen dark before..." he sang through his giggles, ducking away before she could smack him.

"I do," he nodded. "It doesn't mean I'm any less scared about it or that I even know what I'm doing, but I believe you and I love you," he assured her. Admitting it out loud again felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. The more times he said it out loud, the more sure of himself he felt. He did love her. This wasn't the curse talking, this was him. He smiled when she replied that she didn't need to change him. He'd gone a good portion of his life thinking there was something wrong with him. He didn't fit the mold his Father intended for him. He never accepted him for who he was and simply wanted to beat him down until he was a perfect soldier like Michael. But Maze never tried to change him. She never made him feel like he was built wrong or that he was too soft, too hard, or too much for the role placed on his shoulders.

As she deepened the kiss, he pressed her against the wall, wanting to feel every inch of her. Having aired out how he felt, and having her accept it and feel the same was exhilarating and quite frankly more of a turn on than anything else he'd ever experienced before. He could hardly focus as she pulled away. "Well," he smirked, trailing kisses down her neck as his hands explored her body. "I do have some making up to do for my previous faux pas." He gripped her tightly and picked her up before plopping her down onto the bed. "You know what they say, no time line the present," he smirked, dipping down to kiss her again.

#╰☆☆ now tell me what is it you truly desire? | replies ☆☆╮#╰☆☆ it's you. it's always been you | mazikeen ☆☆╮#maze: discords #discord chat

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aloalovera · 4 years

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The week boasted no irregularities at Night Raven College, an unusual feat for an institution of its background. You however, having lived every week since your arrival shrouded with stress if not by the overblottings, then a troublesome class assignment, rather enjoyed the silence and appreciated it(while you still could).

It was Friday and the last bell of the day had rung, a cacophony of relieved sighs following the loud ringing alongside the rustling of materials being put away. You, as well as your irritating, arrogant cat roommate packed your bags as the teacher gave one last reminder of the homework. As it was the weekend, you would concern yourself with it until Sunday night.

You turned to Grimm as you both stood in the hallway, Ace and Deuce having just exited the classroom amongst a throng of final period students eager to return to their dorms. “I was about to tell Grimm, but since you’re both here, I’ll let everyone know,” you said as Deuce and Ace arrived to your standing point, “I’m not sure I’ll make it to movie night this evening so you guys can start without me.”

The four of you had planned a perfect and relaxing evening with enough food that would be enough to satisfy your craving for junk. Needless to say, you were annoyed to have missed such an opportunity. Especially as your guys’ schedules had uniformly lined up after a very long time of deliberation. Crowley sure had a knack for ruining your opportunities to relax.

Ace shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, let’s just reschedule for another day.”

“But we’ve been planning this for weeks! For once we all are not super tired after a single day. Besides, we already have all the snacks and finally convinced Headmaster to let us borrow his projection device-“

“Like Ace said,” began Deuce, interrupting Grim on his whining tirade, “it’s not like we can’t reschedule. Though I’m a little disappointed, I wouldn’t want you missing your errands.”

“By the way Prefect, since we’re on the subject, where are you going?” Ace still had that carefree smile, it eased your nerves for what was to come this afternoon.

You pulled out your student ID and pointed out what set it apart from regular students’. “This stamped crest at the bottom right corner recognizes me as an official Dorm leader, it will also let me into the room where Dorm leaders hold their meetings...”

The stamp in question was just like the official school crest, except the crow was positioned differently and instead of black print, it was red. You stared at it shortly before pocketing the laminated identification card.

“So, if I am understanding correctly,” Deuce muttered, “you’re attending a Dorm leader meeting?!” You winced at his booming words but nodded, a little confused with his outburst. He didn’t let you linger with confusion, “It’s just that, and these are just what the rumors say, but apparently Dorm leader meetings are incredibly violent. They begin arguing and escalate to a full blown magic battle.”

That didn’t sound too good.

“Then it makes sense that the door is sealed, Headmaster wouldn’t want students witnessing the Dorm leaders in disarray, huh?” Hummed Ace. You had a vague hunch the sealing was there for other reasons besides privacy but Ace suspected it too. It may be exactly as he said...

You could all but calm your jitters now, just what did you get yourself into? Or more like, what did Headmaster Crowley want from you this time? He was the one who asked you to attend mind you.

“Rest easy Prefect, you have your phone so if anything goes wrong, call or text us.” Deuce always knew what to say.

“Thank you Deuce, that’s very reassuring,” you smiled sincerely for you did feel much better. With a temporary silence, where all four of you stood awkwardly until you decided it was inevitable, you said your goodbyes, “Well, I’ll be off now. Wouldn’t want to be late on my first Dorm leader meeting.” You tried to put on a cheery smile but all that came out was one that looked eerily similar to how it would if someone had stitched the corners of your lips to lift them.

You exchanged “Goodbye’s,” some “good luck’s,” before ultimately starting down the hallway. The three magicians stood behind as you, their magicless friend, disappeared into a different corridor.

Ace then after said, “Well, can’t help it, we’ll just have to find a different day”

“You try to sound like you don’t care but you were actually very eager to show Prefect the movie you chose, huh” teased Deuce. And so, another round of bickering ensued as the desolate and ignored Grimm tried to regain their attention.

From the moment you stepped away from the comfort of your circle, the heaviness in the pit of your stomach increased tenfold. You could not imagine the refined and respectable Dorm leaders would really break the rules in front of the Headmaster, this logic gave you some semblance. Alas it could only last so long when you remembered how far Leona had gone just to remove from the Magift tournament your good friend Malleus.

Indeed a worrying amount of bad blood existed amongst the Dorm-heads but you hoped it would be subdued with the authoritative presence of Crowley. You’d hate to be caught up in any more magic spectacles. The sheer negativity from an overblot was enough to overwhelm a magician, so one could only fathom your exhaustion at such an exposure without an ounce of magical blood in your veins.

When you stopped in front of the designated door, your thoughts also stopped. Instead you realized how paranoid you’d become, so much so that you were thinking about a potential overblot during the meeting. It was silly to be this nervous, you had spoken with all of them and had befriended a few. How difficult would it be to sit through a likely mundane talk that would regard upcoming events?

Maybe there’d be bickering of course, but that was expected as not everyone would be in agreement at all times. They each were very unique individuals with equally unique thought processes. However knowing them, they would go onto personal territory and begin insulting one another. Which could lead to pent up frustrations being released and a whole blown out magic battle-

Slapping your checks gently, you deescalated the situation that had felt all too much like a premonition. From the pocket of your uniform, you pulled out your student ID.

Now, you’d dealt with magical tools before but that didn’t mean you were never at a complete loss when introduced to something new. You thought to bring it up like a scanner, but to no avail were you granted access. You fiddled with the door and the ID card for a couple of minutes, spying the time was five minutes before the meeting began.

At the moment your eyes landed on your wrist watch which was elevated to the level of the door’s knob, you noticed a small slit right above it. You slid the card in, first turned up, second time turned down.

Your third try you did face up again, with the end where your picture was located at tucked in first. An electronic beep followed, and as the door opened, you cheered at having bested the admittance tool that was much like a credit card machine.

The room seemed dark at first, or well that was more of your impression of it. Much of Night Raven College followed a dark, gothic type architecture as well as aesthetic. You weren’t surprised that everyone was already here, seated around a circular table with papers, pencils, and other materials laid askew.

You’d never been to one of these, so all you had on you was your backpack. That should work as it carried your writing utensils though. One more thing you noticed that set you apart, was that you were still in your school uniform. It seemed everyone else was wearing their dorm uniforms, even Malleus who never attended a meeting due to poor invitation etiquette(from other dorm leaders) stood out less than you, and he was well over six feet tall.

And it also seemed like Vil had made Captain Obvious his role, “Look at this potato, absolutely inconceivable that you would come to a meeting in those dirty rags.”

“You practically wear the same thing,” you pointed out, but the next attack swooped in so quickly and ridiculously you were left flabbergasted.

Riddle had been the orchestrator of the attack, having stated in his harsh tone, “You’re late.”

After twisting your eyebrows, you argued, “Even the clock says it’s 2 minutes before 4-“ You wanted to say that their little tea party didn’t seem too important but held your tongue. You had a feeling Riddle wouldn’t allow you access to the snacks if you spoke back anymore and frankly, you were starving.

“You should have a seat Prefect, Headmaster is very particular about everyone being in their place when the meeting begins.” Azul was kind enough to inform you.

You found it funny how Crowley demanded order in the meeting room but couldn’t do the same in dire ordeals involving a certain group of Dorm leaders. But enough about that, you needed a seat quickly.

However, there was no empty seats. You looked wayward into the room and found a sad little stool in the corner. It so happened to be made of the heaviest metal. The head splitting noise of the feet of the stool dragging on the floor filled the vicinity. You could feel a number of gazes on your back as you tried not to focus on the other occupants.

Whether it was by mercy or annoyance, definitely the latter, you were suddenly lifted and sat on the stool, you held on for dear life as it floated at a rapid pace to the table and then haphazardly twisted so you were facing everyone. You were squeezed between the floating tablet that had its own chair and Kalim.

Vil huffed as if exasperated and drolly commented as he leaned his chin on his palm, “If you are to continue to attend these meetings, you have to wear appropriate attire that represents your dorm.”

“But Ramshackle dorm doesn’t even have a crest(or clean water), there’s nothing to represent-“

“Up up, you will not argue with me. Make sure to have a uniform next time you come or I’ll personally make it so that you cannot enter this room.” Vil was always very harsh with you. Unlike everyone else who seemed to care less about the garbs you had on, he seemed especially offended. “You think you can look however as a Dorm leader? How can you call yourself an advocate for Ramshackle Dorm when you can’t even put the minimal effort into your appearance.”

You didn’t think you looked as awful as Vil criticized. Maybe your hair was a little frizzy and unkept at the hairline and your shirt wasn’t as tucked in as earlier but it wasn’t like you came in caked in mud either. Vil had impossibly high standards. However now that you noticed, you looked notably more unruly than the rest who had not a wrinkle in place and didn’t look like the standard tired student after a long day of classes. But then, suddenly some help-

“Ah, just knock it off. All your whining is getting on my nerves,” huffed Leona. He was leaned back with his eyelids closed and that angry look on his face. Whether his intention was to help you or not, you had to be thankful for his very honest character. Some disliked his bluntness and called him lazy, but questionable morals aside, you actually thought Leona was quite efficient. As they say, “lazy” people aren’t lazy, they are simply smart enough to come up with a more convenient and trouble free process. You were brought back from your thoughts by the lion himself, “Besides, he’s gonna arrive soon-“

“More like now-“ at Kalim’s excitable tone, the shrill of shattering glass engulfed your ears and you knew immediately, based on that very wasteful entrance, that Crowley had arrived.

As said, he stood before you as a flood of heaven’s light from the sizable hole in the window entered the murky, dank walls of hell. Crowley scanned the room and did a double take on you.

Your stool was much shorter than the high chairs everyone else had been graced with, you were also more or less slumping in an attempt to make yourself smaller. This was unconsciously done of course, try as you might you couldn’t stop acknowledging how little you fit in with the rest of the room’s inhabitants.

Crowley’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, as if he was at a loss for words. If you didn’t know any better, he was probably at a loss for words.

He said while his beady little eyes settled on your face, “Oh, well look who’s here early!”

“It’s ten minutes past the meeting time,” Riddle said rather snarkily.

“Ah yes...” the man in question mumbled, then after shouting, “BUT, we shall get started immediately!” Crowley had declared. “Come then Dorm leaders, let me listen to your complaints”

“I’d hardly call them complaints, they’re more like issues that need to be resolved for the sake of the student’s safety,” said Azul after a clean rearranging of his papers. “Octavinelle can deal with its own problems, however when those problems transcend outside of our plumbing abilities, we will request help from a third party source.” He pushed his glasses up his nose bridge and with finality said, “That third party source is you, Headmaster”

The pressure was on in a matter of seconds. You knew Crowley’s tune too well to understand that he had probably procrastinated on a lot of the topics that would be mentioned today. Half of you couldn’t wait to see his ear chewed off for once and the other half dreaded the length of this meeting for this was a meeting that involved Crowley and responsibility. Two elements like those simply did not mix.

And you were right... His first response?

Evasion.

“A-ah, I see. But Azul, was the flooding not fixable by magic?” The crow man said. You looked between the two, Azul’s eyebrows jutting down almost immediately after that statement.

“Headmaster Crowley, you should know that magic is not the solution to all of our problems. Besides, it’s only a temporary fix that is becoming more, and more frequent to see to. Please contact the plumbing company and have them fix our flooding problem-“

“Stupid.”

Oh dear. Dear, dear lord. You hoped he hadn’t any more insulting elaborating for your premonition would become very true if a certain octopus’s temper wasn’t moderated.

The single word had come from Leona. You had all paused to listen to the lion who chuckled mockingly much to your dismay. “You live underwater and you’re complaining about a flooding problem? To me it sounds like all you need is a custom pot and you’ll feel right at home”

Was Leona still annoyed that his deal had been for naught during the magift tournament? Definitely. Was Azul still brimming with irritation that his contracts had been reduced to dust? Without a doubt.

“Maybe you should concern yourself with that flea infestation from your own stye” Azul replied coolly. Your eyes widened as you looked down, feeling an awkward tension suddenly rise. You weren’t surprised an argument was being instigated between these two. Based on a couple of previous mentioned incidents that is.

You just wished nobody else would warrant any more input. Alas, it seemed these days all you did was hopeful and useless wishing.

“Cease your mindless bickering, you sound like fools. There are actual topics in need of discussion and exchanging insults won’t resolve them,” Riddle was the one who had mentioned.

But then he was in the line of fire, “If we’re bringing up issues that need discussion, then I’d like to put in a formal complaint against Riddle.” Riddle sputtered at Leona’s words. “He overworks his students and forces them into useless tasks like painting roses red. It makes it worse when you find out that he dictates the outfits they wear and makes them do it under the blistering heat.”

“I most certainly do not!” Riddle had shouted and appeared to be gaining a red hue to his face. “The weather in Heartslabyul is regulated”

“So you don’t deny that you exhaust your students regardless of the weather?” Leona added another quip, “ You wouldn’t be so defensive if you weren’t with any faults, your tomato face gives it all away.”

“Now now, do not insult Riddle for wanting to make his Dorm a beautiful place. We should praise him for putting in the effort of making it look so gorgeous unlike that barren wasteland of yours Leona. It’s an absolute eyesore,” drawled Vil.

“What’s an eyesore is that your face looks more like cake than cake itself Vil,” the lion fired back. Vil was readying his rebuttal. You clenched your teeth and looked helpless between both, looking to Crowley who had taken to sipping delicately out of a tea cup. Bastard.

It’s not that you were concerned for their strained relationships, it’s what their strained relationships entailed for you. Crowley wouldn’t herd his students into peaceful territory, instead he’d leave you to it. Once again the responsibility would be dumped onto you at the expense of having Crowley look for a way for you to return to your world. You sighed dejectedly as you watched the unfolding ordeal.

Before you knew it, Azul had jumped back into the mix and was berating Leona for always instigating fights with his “childish” comments.

“If I’m so childish for stating the obvious, what does that make you guys for stringing along?” His rhetorical question seemed only to further fan the flames of rage in the three Dorm leaders. You looked at Kalim besides you who was laughing loudly.

So carefree and free spirited...

He pointed excitedly and said to you, “It always seems to go South, just enjoy the show while it lasts!”

“I don’t remember it always being like this. But I suppose things changed in my absence.” Malleus chimed into yours and Kalim’s discussion.

“They did. A lot of us don’t have very good chemistry with one another. It always ends up in a big fight if Headmaster doesn’t intervene” said Idia on the other side of the floating tablet.

“But is it okay to simply sit back without doing anything to put a stop to them?” Malleus questioned, looking quite troubled. From what you were told(that he wasn’t ever invited to these meetings), you discerned Malleus had been quite looking forward to interacting with his peers.

Ah but there was no way to when more than half of the Dorm leaders were engaging in a verbal battle with one another.

Idia had said what you and Kalim had both been thinking, “If you try to stop them, you’ll just be dragged into their mindless argument like Riddle and Vil”

“It’s so easy to get lost in the rage. Idia and I have both fallen victims to the petty behavior,” Kalim said with a wicked wide grin. You don’t understand why he looks so proud of himself...

“Yes, it’s like this room is cursed or something,” Idia remarked.

You sighed wearily, “I don’t think the room is the problem...”

The lot of you watched on as the insults grew more and more personal. Unbelievable that they were so egotistical and prideful. Vil really felt like he was above all others(which you found ridiculous; beauty was subjective and as far as you knew, he only adhered to a selected society’s beauty standard). Riddle really believed he could exercise control over the rest(it would be better if he would try to coax the others into a compromise like an equal but instead he decided to shout commands like an arrogant, tyrannical brat). Leona was prideful and that bluntness you had praised not even ten minutes ago was becoming the bane of your existence. Speaking of banes, Azul couldn’t be more insufferable with his know it all attitude.

You had not realized that Crowley’s demeanor had shifted to something much darker and sinister as the arguing winded along. Finally he broke. Just like his tea cup.

“SILENCE,” the crow man shouted, effectively silencing the Dorm leaders, “YOU ALL HAVE ME SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR CONSTANT SHOUTING MATCHES!”

“Headmaster, you are shouting yourself,” Kalim said, matter of factory, scratching his temple with a single digit.

“Ah. Ahem, excuse me,” Crowley let the components of the tea cup he shattered crumble to the floor. They landed with a clink in the quiet room. “It’s been consistent arguments from you all and it’s very disappointing to witness this kind of behavior from you, who are considered elites at this already elite institution. I will not tolerate this blatant insubordination. You are Dorm heads and as such, are expected to conduct yourselves like so under all circumstances. You’ve disrespected and defiled your titles with your selfish and childish behavior and have left me no choice but to give a punishment of the worst severity.”

A heavy quietude hung in the air. The threat breathed down all your necks as you all waited with bated breaths. You hoped Crowley wouldn’t dish out the very formidable punishment to you. After all, you’d done nothing wrong. Crowley wouldn’t know what was coming his way if he even considered involving you in any more Dorm leader altercations.

Riddle braved up a few ass kissing words, “We understand Headmaster and will accept any punishment you give us”

“It was completely juvenile of us to act in such a way that defiles the good image of a Dorm leader,” Vil followed up.

“Yes, we profoundly apologize and will not do it again.” Azul bowed his head in shame.

Leona said nothing, for he had been truthful with his feelings and felt no remorse in expressing them. He thought the other three looked quite like boot-lickers offering suck up statements. Whatever Crowley had to offer, he could take it.

Bring it on he mentally challenged the bird man.

“Your punishment is,” Crowley sucked in a long breath, purposely leaving you all with the suspense. “So horrific you’ll spend every single day in complete and utter agony. Every moment will be a torturous reliving of your worst nightmare. You will come out changed men... traumatized changed men.” A few had nervous sweat drops rolling down their temples and others looked comically stone faced. “You all will be subjected to the cruelest, most severe repercussion.” Crowley said, “You will be subjected to...” and you all stood at the edge of your seats. The time came when he revealed the long awaited words, “A sleepover.”

“Huh?”

Leona was wrong...

HE COULD NOT TAKE THAT! Bring it back! Sweet sweet and noble ancestor, reverse this curse-

“WHAT!?” Vil’s shrill scream was enough to make you wince. Azul was stunned to silence much like the rest of you.

In all honesty you didn’t think it was that bad. Until-

“In Ramshackle dorm-“

“WHAT!?” It was your turn to scream as you stood up, knocking your stool over and causing a cry as it made harsh contact with the floor.

“For seven days-“

“WHAT!?” You all shouted in unison, baffled by the unexpected turn of events.

Crowley had nerve.

“To offer my dorm like that,” you sputtered in disbelief, “it’s unacceptable Headmaster!”

“Fufu, it’s the only place big enough to house you eight and isolated enough to keep you from interacting with anyone but each other.” Crowley explained as if you had all accepted it and come to terms yet. You would raise hell before you even considered allowing it. And you did.

“I refuse-“

“I override your refusal. This is for the benefit of the school and my decision is final.” That piece of no good dog shit. Bird brains were small with high capacities however this one seemed to only be small and know how to only be small. “I am very busy so I cannot police the Dorm leaders into acting civilized enough to not embarrass the school. However I will provide Ramshackle with all the necessities to host the additional seven temporary students for I am gracious.” He goaded.

“No Headmaster, you are not being gracious at all,” you fired back, “I don’t understand why you have to lump me in with all of them. Never mind that I am a Dorm leader, you never recognize me as an official one except when you need something from me. On top of that, why is Kalim, Idia, and Malleus being punished as well?”

“Kalim and Idia have previously participated in the discourse. As for Malleus...” Crowley rubbed his chin, “Well, I suppose it would be a learning experience for him. I’m sure Lilia will approve.”

“You still haven’t answered why you’re lumping me in as well- Hey!” You cried as you ran after the bird man who had hopped out of the window and was falling fifty feet. “Headmaster you can’t just leave without an explanation!”

“But I have explained already,” his voice echoed as you leaned out the cavity in the stained glass pane, “You are an impressive beast tamer! I trust all will go well in your hands! And be sure to have Ramshackle dorm ready to receive its new students by 7:00pm tomorrow!”

Ah... he was gone just like that. What do you know, he didn’t even let you chew him out...

The room that had been in chaos suddenly descended into a space void of any sound but breathing.

“Don’t say anything,” you weakly mumbled as you glared at the spires of NRC, the wind blowing through the flags and essentially masking Crowley’s location. You were sure that everyone had heard the crow man’s last few shouts of information, but had probably missed the one that pertained particularly to you. Defeated you turned to the rest and said in an eerily calm voice, “I need to make the preparations, please be on time tomorrow evening and make sure you have everything you will need for a week”

“But wait, aren’t you against this? Why are you suddenly giving in?” Kalim uttered, probably put off by your change in demeanor. In truth, you were still definitely against it but you took Crowley’s words like a threat.

Fingers tapped against your chin, “I think all of our hands are tied. You guys can’t disobey Crowley and I can’t afford to put him in bad graces with me.”

“Still, for him to just declare something like that and disappear without elaborating...” Vil seemed exasperated as the rest of you. You could hear Idia’s nervous breathing through the tablet as Riddle spoke up.

“With or without elaborating, it’s like you said,” he gestured to you, “we cannot disobey. Especially as he is correct in the fact that we have acted out of line.”

“Regardless of how quickly things have happened, I’ll have you guys know that I lock the doors at 10:00pm sharp. Be on time please.” You were already picking up your bag and heading out the door dejectedly. “Also, don’t forget anything!”

•———•••———•••———•••———•••———•

Ahaaa this chapter is super rushed and choppy but I’m looking most forward to writing interactions between the characters as they all settle into their new lifestyles for a whole week.

#twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley #twst grim #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #reader insert

25 notes · View notes

charg3e · 4 years

Text

Siege-o-ween Day 6!

‘She’s an angel’,Yumiko thought the first time she laid eyes on her. Her. Nienke Meijer, the newest engineer that arrived at Rainbow.

Looking back, she should have noticed it a lot sooner. The way Nienke had talked about the existence of God, the likeness of her and Mark when it came to the doings of Him, the arguments she had with the devout Olivier. She talked about it as if she had been there, seen the actions He had taken, the curses and blessings He had thrown upon humanity.

The way she got along with the explorer, Sanaa, explaining the histories and cultures of far off lands despite, on her travel records, never travelling there in the first place. The ways she had looked at the sky in distaste and longing when she first asked Yumiko to join her on the rooftop.

With a tempting smile on her lips as she chose to explain the constellations instead of whatever had haunted her living among them.

The mission that she barely survived and yet, Nienke came out of it injured yet recovered nonetheless. A horrible mission that no human would have survived, discounting Zofia of course, even then one would not have come out of it without career ending injuries.

_________________________________________________________________

The cool suburban winds made Yumiko shiver even in her jacket, as she made her way to the back trench of the building. The sleek building towering over her was darkened, blending in with its surrounding of dim lights and various abandoned family owned businesses. If it weren’t for the intel provided by the one and only Aria de Luca, ‘infiltrator extraordinaire” according to Nienke.

The admiration and relationship between Aria and Nienke made her jealous sometimes, the easygoing way they talked to each other and their ‘secret’ language that Yumiko didn’t understand. It was Latin, as she later heard from Adriano.

Shaking the personal emotions away, Hibana put her gun on low alert and checked the window, jumping in when her partner gave her the all clear to jump in. Her partner, Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda had been holding the small site with his Entry Denial Devices and gave her a gruff, “About time you got here.” as she vaulted in.

No more time for quips however, she had to hot drop to the basement, clear it, and disable the security cameras for the other attacker who would infiltrate the top floor on the north side.

“Dropping in!”

She landed on the cold white tiles, or, at least that was what she expected.

She landed on a pile of skeletons, time to panic as she realised quickly that they were made of plastic. She could tell from the clacking sound of the bones, hollow and not only that, smooth to the touch.

The sound made from her abrupt fall as well as the hissing of the X-kairos quickly bought the attention of the festive terrorists. Dressed as frankenstein (the doctor) was one wearing a gas mask, who seemed to have the highest ranking. With one fell swoop of his hand and a shout of

“Surround her!”

The terrorists, each wearing what seemed to be the reverse bear traps from SAW, sprinted around the SAT operative. All seemed to be in the opposition’s favour, until an impact round was heard from above and they all looked up. Taking this chance, Hibana shot at the doctor, downing him and proceeding to lob a bullet in the others head. Her Type-89 quickly ran out of shots with its measly 21 bullet magazine. As she quick swapped to her Bearing-9, she turned the her final enemy behind, whipping it out and aiming for their chest-

Click

“...kuso”

The moment of painful regret of forgetting to reload her machine pistol was quickly forgotten, as Maxim jumped down and landed a knife on the target’s head. The terrorist stared with rage, but quickly started to panic, his screams were muffled as he pulled out the knife from his, now-missing, eye.

“No, no, nonononono-”

The whirring of a loaded spring was made more evident with each pull, the tick tock sound emanating from the hoodie wearing being getting louder, and like a jack in the box.

The skin on his face opened up, jaw slamming up and snapping grotesquely. The body fell to the floor and the shaking of the body had Maxim shooting it with the SASG-12 to put the poor boy out of his misery.

“What a cruel way to go. Is it not?”

The Doctor rose up behind them, despite wearing a blood soaked shirt and Hibana being very certain that she had hit them on the side of the neck, they seemed perfectly fine.

“That one was a failed experiment if a Russian got to him”

The intonation made Kapkan seeth,

“Do not insult us.”

The bullet from his PMM sidearm barely pierced the skin of the Doctor’s trachea, as they pulled it out of their skin. Their eyes contained mirth and a sense of wonderful curiosity when they turned and raised both their arms in the air,

“If you two are here, that must mean that the third party is upstairs yes? Oh I certainly hope it's Iana, I haven’t seen her in centuries!”

That struck a chord within Yumiko’s heart,

They knew.

“She has escaped from me so many times… the bird should have her wings clipped. No, perhaps I shall remove them entirely, rip them into shreds like I did with her last family. Maybe I’ll go after Iona after. Yes. That is what I shall do.” The Doctor clenched his fists in conviction , turning to look back at them.

“Worry not, my only target is her. Feel free to leave before I clip her wings and we die in a fiery explosion together.”

Maxim was very much done with the Doctor’s talk, but the bullets dealt no damage. Tactical retreat was a term to exist no?

“Hibana, call the operative, we will be leaving”

“But the mission-”

“Live to fight another day, no one lives nearby anyways”

The Doctor laughed.

“Live, live to tell the tale of how you escaped Kaelan. The Hunter of Angels and Doctor of the deranged.”

The duo from the basement left through the tunnel, but when they got out and tried to contact Nienke, the third operative of the mission.

Connection lost.

___________________________________________________________________________

The beeping of the phone was not a good sign, not with Iana still on the top floor of the building with no way to get down. Hibana was worried, Iana was stuck in there, with a psychopathic unkillable creature that was hunting her.

Now that she had time to think to herself, maybe she could sort this out in her head.

‘So, there is a being that is unkillable, hunts angels, puts people in freaking death traps and proclaims themself as a doctor. They’re hunting Iana, or what they know as Iana, as well as an “Iona”. So this means Iana is an angel? In a literal sense? We need to find this “Iona” and put whoever they are in our custody for their protection. What in the world did this turn out to be-”

Before she could complete her train of thought with the profanity, an explosion that sent the smell of smoke through the tunnel into her nostrils knocked her out of it. Kapkan stood beside her, holding up a blue phone that defenders had when detonating C4. The smile under his mask couldn’t be seen, his hands pushing the device back into his coat as he dusted himself off with the other.

The crackling of Hibana’s phone had her pausing in her silent scream at Kapkan, Iana’s slightly panicky voice could be heard through the speakers,

“What was that explosion? Where are you all, I can’t find you on the radar, are you both outside now?”

“Yes, there was someone inside telling us to leave, They’re going after you Iana, get out immediately. There might be explosives planted-”

“This is unfortunate but, I am surrounded with explosives and it appears they have all been armed to detonate in 3 minutes. I suppose this is where we say our goodbyes.”

That was the last thing Yumiko had expected Nienke to say, the word goodbye was not something that she wanted to say, not yet. She had so many questions that were yet to be answered, but only one was truly tickling at the back of her mind.

“Nienke, are you an angel?”

“Because I look like I fell from the heavens? You’ve used that before Yumi, and I don’t think now is the time for pick up lines.”

“I meant, legitimately.”

“I’ve told you yes every time you asked Yumi, you just never took it in a literal sense.”

A blast could be heard from the east wing of the building, the rustling of Iana’s shirt could be heard as she flew up the stairs.

“Sorry Yumi, I’m going to have to cut this one short.”

“Wait-”

The flatline beep of the hung up call sent dread into Yumiko’s heart. Maxim took notice of her heading back down the tunnel and rushed to pull her back.

“Are you crazy? This place is about to explode, calm down. She will hopefully find a way out by herself. You may be shocked but if that clouds your judgement what good are you.”

“Excuse me. I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!”

“Well yes, I just specified that.”

Kapkan had to carry the thrashing SAT operator over his shoulder as he ran to their emergency transport vehicle, leaving Iana alone on the rooftop to fight.

____________________________________________________________________________

The rooftop was chilly, but Nienke never cared much for temperatures. The Doctor jumped up the hatch she opened for med-vac, a smile plastered in his eyes as he whipped out an engraved knife and pointed it at her.

“Angel Iana, I’m not going to kill you today. I’ll just take what I need and be on my merry way.”

“Oh gee thanks Kaelan, you’re not going to get it that easy.”

“Show me those wings, and I’ll show you my claws. A fair fight is all I ask for.”

Naivety.

A word that could be used to describe Iana at this moment. She kneeled to the ground as her body contorted, bone sprouting from her back as blood pooled around her shoulder blades, the liquid coating her feathers and turning them black.

She was so naive, she had thought she would be given a chance to turn, a chance for fair fight with the hunter.

She was wrong.

____________________________________________________________________________

The knife went in deep, crimson blood spilling over as Nienke fell to the ground, unable to move from the excruciating pain.

“You honestly thought I was going to fight fair. Ha, you never learn.”

The blood they collected with the knife was sucked into a test tube using a mechanism. Kaelan giggled in glee at the sight of it, squealing and jumping around on the roof.

“That was your blood, Angel. I still require your wings for my project.”

The knife shifted as they sliced back down her back, and she fought the pain in a burst of rage. Jumping onto them and ripping the vial out of their hands and kicking them to the side,

“I’ll never allow you to find a way back to heaven, Kaelan.”

The excited giggles from Kaelan ceased, they looked at her with rage and despair.

“I have lost so much because of you. I am stuck here because of YOU.”

Kaelan let out wings of their own, gray and torn apart, yet still able to fly for short distances.

“This is your fault.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The fight was anticlimactic, as there was little to no fight at all. Iana sidestepped when Kaelan threw a punch at her, jumping off the roof and letting her wings spread. She tried maintaining her focus as she aimed for the vehicle, but her eyes and wings were weakened from the bloodloss. Kaelan has chased after her, but as they went to celebrate an early victory, having dug a fire poker into her back, they were struck down with a kick as Iana flew up and dropped down on them.

“Goodbye.”

Nienke could fester no more energy as she glided towards the moving vehicle, barely able to land on top of it as the building exploded in the distance. Hibana and Kapkan had heard the drop, and as Maxim hit the brakes and Yumiko turned around. Nienke pulled out the fire poker through her chest, holding it up in a way one would admire a spear, wings dark yet contrasting the starry night.

“How’s that for a halloween night?”

The smirk fell alongside her body and the jaws of the other two operators as she collapsed onto the back of the truck.

#r6s #iana/hibana #Siege-o-ween 2020 #i dont know how to tag im sorry #chargfics #spooktober #8)#iana #hibana

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eternalscribbles · 3 years

Text

(I jave done 2 prompts, botj of tje same story! I really wanna make tjis story a tjing, I like it a lot, but tjere are too many jurdles unfortunately, wjicj is annoying. Won't stop me from writing it till I give up on tje idea tji! Enjoy! Tjis is kinda far in said story. Prompts botj from @writing-is-ruining-my-life! I wonder wjat people could get from tjis, wjat tjey would tjink tje cjaracters are like and sucj witj a fuller picture... Oj well, if anyone reads tjis, I jope you enjoy!)

__________

"Highly, please!"

Hivemind's pleading eyes stare into the white sclera of her friend's. In her hand, she was shakily clutching a butcher's knife. "We can just... talk! I'm sure they can be reasoned with!" Her free hand waves about with her words, as if trying to cast a spell of understanding on Highly. But it fails, as they look forward with a frustrated glare. "They cannot. We have tried, you have seen and even done, our efforts are found wasted on that dangerous thing."

"They're not a 'thing'!" She snaps, her rise of anger quickly retreating. "Please, we could come to a peaceful conclusion together!"

"No, we cannot." Their voices gains volume, starting to echo. "You saw what happened to Unorthodox. Beaten and sickeningly snapped as we turned on our heels and ran like chickens. He cannot even walk anymore, bedridden, he is. He has not gotten better in days- for all we know, he could be dying! And to even try to befriend what could very well have caused his demise is but utter stupidity, and an insult. Not to mention how likely it is to spell out demise as well! We are to put it down while it is weak. It is our best chance of surviving." Hivemind shakes her head.

"There's good in everyone! There's good in them! And even if you don't believe me, I'm not gonna just hand over the cleaver for you to do the job either! I am going to talk to her, we are going to solve this all out, and Unorthodox is going to be okay!" She yells, her voice straining at the last bit. Her hand tightens it's grip on the handle. Her demeanor speaks her resolve as she begins to move past Highly to the door in which they were chained in. They grab her by the wrists and pull her back, only managing to push her a few inches away from the door before she starts to fight back and push towards the door. "Why does it even matter if I fail or not! She's chained up, I'll be fine!"

"But you do not know that, she could be faking it until we have our guards down!"

And there begun their screaming match for why they should or shouldn't kill her.

What was only minutes felt like hours, the two in a constant stalemate as they were matching in power. But not for long. Highly spreads out her wings, white with the tips tainted in black, looking as if paint was thrown on it, and flapped in Hivemind's face. She closes her eyes and her grip slightly weakens, her ticklish nature not coming in handy as she slightly giggles with the ebony tips brushing against her. Highly took this chance to take Hivemind by her lavender scarf, spinning and launching her into the wall. A loud thud, followed by a crack (fortunately from the wall), followed the pained yelp that came. The butcher's knife now laid on the floor, having slipped out of her grasp. Highly wasted no time collecting it, literally looking down on her. Her wings were spread out, highlighted by the lightbulb above. "No- wait! Please! Highly please!"

"You cannot do what needs to be done. You are weak." Eyes clouded with thought and no doubt a slither of hesitation, her head turns back to the door. With a quick glance to Hivemind, she mouths an apology. One she knows will never be enough for shattering her merciful world, and soon her friend from long ago even if they were long gone long ago. Despite everything, she does not falter in her steps, each one filled with confidence and resolve. Behind her, she hears the pleas and cries of ever so desperate friend, all tuned out into mere muffles. The door opens with a creaks, the tiny box if light shining onto the one the room help captive. And by their stare of utter fear, the two were too loud and they heard. But it mattered not. The door shut with a slam, and a scream if horror rang through the small space. Outside, Hivemind's eyes widen as tears pool but do not fall. In her minds, there's a moment of silence and mourning for her lost companion all over the multiverse. Too bad she already lost them long ago.

________

"Wjy did you do it?"

"I got tired of letting my friends die."

Highly's eyes were stuck on the ground, a frown etched across her face. And beside, sitting in the rock 'bench', an all to curious Scribbles. "I did not have a choice. If they got out, it would have spelt our doom. But she did not understand that, she wanted to talk to them."

"And I tjink we all remember jow tjat went." Her eyes look away.

"Yes... Badly." They take a deep breath, it comes out as a sigh. "You should have seen her face. I saw it. When I walked out of that room. She was horrified, a sobbing mess."

"Not like tjeir scream was tje quietist tjing tje world tjougj."

"Yea... She will not even look at me now, though. I want to talk to her about what happened. I want to apologise. But I do not know how when I am treated like the plague! I... do not think there is any coming back from this. She always believed we could go through everything without fighting- without hurting people- but that is not how the world works! Everybody gets hurt, even if the intent was to save! We could not have done anything for her friend. She was already too hurt to fix."

"...You say tjat, but are ya sure?" Highly's head swiftly snaps to Scribbles. "Wh- yes I am sure! We have dealt with every other adversary with kindness and mercy, but we tried kindness and mercy here, and that got Unorthodox on his death bed! We cannot talk our way out of everything, and we certainly could not talk our way out of that!"

"I'm not sayin' tjat talking is our go-to ticket or anytjin', I'm sayin' tjat I don't tjink tjey was beyond jelp."

"So what, I have just murdered someone for no reason? That I have stained my hands with blood that could have been civil!?" They stood up.

"No- wjat I mean is- agj, I can't explain it! Just- listen to me, Highly." Turning to look Highly in the eyes as much as one can when the other person doesn't have eyes (or at the very least pupils), she also stands. "Nobody is beyond jelp. Wjat's done jas been done, but now we look to tje future and don't repeat tje past. Hivemind is very upset, but tjat doesn't mean you two can't resolve tjis. Jowever, Hivemind doesn't jave to forgive you and you can't force jer or anytjing. Like jow tjougj you could do tjis again, you aren't required to. But just remember tjis for next time, maybe: nobody is beyond jelp. Now I may not be good at giving advice, in fact I'm awful at it! But I just jope tjere's sometjing in my words tjat'll jelp you or sometjing. And no, I wasn't implying you killed for notjing, but tjat tjere was anotjer way we could've at least tried." She sighs. She knew she wasn't a very good advice giver, but she had to try, right? A pit forms in her stomach, but she doesn't know why. And she'd rather not know. She lightly shakes her head in an attempt to make sure Highly doesn't notice, before resuming. "I jope you and Hivemind work it out, but remember tjat sje is not obligated to forgive you. Especially since ya kinda murdered jer old best bud." Highly just stares at Scribbles in thought. "Well, I gotta go now. Cya later, Highly!" Scribbles turns and begins to walk, leaving Highly alone with their thoughts. One awful thought kept bashing at her skull though. 'You are a murder, and you did it for nothing. Hivemind will never forgive you.' And they don't move, they know it's true. Hivemind will never forgive them, they will never have the bond they had before.

They were kinda glad Scribbles left, they needed some alone time anyway.

(Altogetjer, tjat makes 1375 words!)

#oc #practice #scribbles'stories

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Text

Catching Up

It's my wonderful friend @minky-for-short‘s birthday so I wrote her a fic! And I'm posting just in case anyone read my fic 'I will love you if I never see you again' and wanted more dad Jupeter and more of their daughter!

Bianca has an announcement for her dads and there's only one way Nureyevs can communicate. And if you’d leave a comment on Ao3, I’d so appreciate it!

------

There were many reasons they weren’t a conventional family.

There was their clunky surname that was hard to wrap your mouth around. Steel-Nureyev. Or maybe Nureyev-Steel, they’d never formally decided which way it went. Mostly because they never really had to use it and had never needed to write it down in any official capacity.

There was the fact that a female sewer rabbit lived in their modest Hyperion apartment, turning it into a tiny apartment and the rabbit into, technically, a house rabbit. It was fine, they rarely had guests over that weren’t Rita, Jet or the Aurinkos. Or Mick but he was terrified of Small Fry, as Juno insisted on still calling her.

There was the fact that, for months long stretches at a time, Juno and Nureyev would have no idea where their eldest daughter was. They would hear nothing from her or her wife, Desta, not so much as a message over their comms. Nothing but Juno’s anxious, obsessive tuning in to the police scanners of all the major planets and some from the outer rim to boot. Rita had hacked his comms so he’d be able to pick it up and Nureyev pretended he didn’t know how much he clung to it and that he wasn’t equally as worried, all the time, gnawing away deep down inside himself.

But there was also the fact that when, finally, they’d hear her boots in the hallway or see the coat that used to be Juno’s hanging on the coat rack by the door and hear her singing from her old bedroom, when their Bee Bee finally came home, the cards would always come out.

Juno tried to be a good host, tried to catch their attention to offer drinks but they were already focused. They sat across the dining room table from each other, like they always did, with the same matching smiles and narrowed eyes and playful determination. Nureyev laid the cards out himself, as he always did, so many that they took up a whole table in an array that still didn’t make a lick of sense to Juno, much to his irritation.

“Have they always done this?” Desta asked, her voice soft and quiet as always. Her lips were a bright blue today and she was smiling more than usual, “This game?”

Her eyes were on Bianca, with the same exasperated tenderness Juno was sure she’d see in his own eye, fixed on Nureyev.

“It used to be chess,” Juno hummed as he poured wine, “He taught her to play when she was six, they practised every night until she could beat him. Then he would cheat and she had to still win and tell him after how he cheated. Then they both cheated. And then they moved onto this. Same system, just with a game a million times more complicated.”

Desta looked at the splayed out cards, at the rapid fire way Nureyev dealt and shrugged, accepting the wine Juno held out to her and sipping mildly. Juno wished he could have the same blase attitude to not having a clue how Rangian street poker worked.

“Can’t you guys catch up normally?” he sighed, bringing Nureyev the glass of red wine he didn’t need to ask to know he wanted, “Like with a conversation? I’ve heard some families have those.”

“This is way more fun,” Bianca waved away her own glass and squeezed her mama’s hand instead, “Cos I get to catch up and beat my daddy at something.”

Nureyev’s eyebrow arched, “Confidence. An interesting play, given how our last game went.”

Bee Bee hummed, tilting her head so her earrings rang. Desta had clearly made them, they were exquisitely wrought discs of ceramic and bronze, painted with tiny flowers. She’d been doing a lot of pottery work lately, straying away from her usual canvasses.

“Funny, daddy, I don’t recall how our last game went. I prefer to focus on the game in front of me. First rule of thieving, right?”

Nureyev’s smile curled up at one end and he was clearly suppressing a chuckle, “Let’s start then. You can have the first question.”

Bianca tilted her head in thought, “Hmm...have you read Sephy’s manuscript?”

Nureyev’s eyes widened, “What? Have you? He’s not been letting anyone read it until his editor gets back to him, not even Idun!”

Her eyebrow lifted and her grin became truly smug, “Is that your question, daddy?”

He bristled the way a cornered cat would, “No. I want to know what planet you were just on.”

“Works for me. Let’s play!”

If Juno had thought Nureyev was fast back at the Oasis, now he thought he must grow four extra arms to keep up. He and Bianca were a flurry of effortlessly manicured, pale, spidery hands and laser burned, clever fingered, dark brown hands, all working to outwit the other set in ways that there was no hope of following. Juno gave up quickly, motioning Desta over to the sofa to the side of the table, making polite small talk about her latest gallery opening on Jupiter where the art scene had gone wild at the idea of an anonymous artist with such magnificent, bold pieces. He didn’t know a damn thing about art, especially good art, but the way the kid’s eyes lit up when she talked about her work was good enough for him.

They broke off when the hand ended, Bianca grinning in triumph and Nureyev scowling and gritting his teeth.

“No,” he said, short and clipped, “My own son, my flesh and blood, whom I gave life to will not let me read his manuscript.”

Bianca’s smile softened a little, “He just cares about your opinion. He doesn’t want you to read it until it’s absolutely perfect and even then he’s probably going to still worry you don’t like it.”

Nureyev gave a non committal grunt but it was clear she’d mollified him. Juno would have piped up and told him that he hadn’t been allowed to read it either but Nureyev already knew that. And he knew it didn’t stop either of them being so damn proud of their son, selling his first novel to a publisher at just twenty years old, after a childhood of watching him typing away on his comms, writing his little stories.

“Your turn, daddy,” Bianca smiled sweetly, shamelessly using every weapon she’d had since she was born to wrap the galaxy’s greatest thief around her little finger.

He drew in a breath and set his shoulders. Juno had seen him square up for fights before, he knew that look behind his cat eye glasses. Clearly Bianca had caught him on the back foot, bringing a new level to the game that he hadn’t known she could. But he was drawing himself tight as a bow, his knuckles threatening to burst out of his skin, his teeth showing under his lip.

Once again, Juno wished that they could catch up with their children over dinner maybe, cups of tea and biscuits even, like normal people.

“What planet were you just on?” Nureyev asked again, still stuck on his first question.

Bianca smiles broadly, dark gold eyes wandering around the room, “Did you and mama redecorate?”

“Play,” Nureyev looks insulted by her question, setting to the cards.

Juno just watched this time, he’d learned that a comfortable silence was best with Desta sometimes. He saw a lot of his younger self in the girl his daughter had brought back from one of her first big jobs. That didn’t bode well at all for the poor kid so he was always careful to give her space and just be a quiet presence beside her. It seemed to be working, she shifted closer to him after a minute of nothing but cards hitting the table, sounding like bird wings, and actually rested her head on his shoulder.

Juno smiled and let his eye wander over the table, not trying to make sense of the erratic movements and patterns that seemed to rise and fall apart within seconds, but just watching his husband and their daughter be brilliant at something. He had fun finding the eerie similarities in their expressions and their mannerisms, how she looked so much like him but acted so much like Nureyev.

He was so deep in his own thoughts that the only reason he didn’t miss the reveal was Nureyev’s startled noise of dismay.

“What?” he looked down at their cards like he was looking at a cat with two heads doing a tap dance across the table, “But...but I…”

Bianca tilted her head, humming innocently, “Something wrong, daddy?”

“How did you do that?” he demanded, stunned, “I’ve never used that method with you and I invented it myself, how could you know about it? How could you counter it so fast?”

“This is all very nice but all I care about is if that wallpaper is new,” she actually pretend to stifle a yawn. Juno had to swallow a laugh very quickly or he’d have been sleeping on the couch.

Nureyev trembled, “Yes. Yes, it’s new, we redecorated after your mother’s pet chewed through the plaster.”

“Hey, her new teeth were coming though, okay?” Juno piped up indignantly, “They were hurting.”

Bad move, all of Nureyev’s frustrations flowed at him like a blistering wind via the glare he gave him. Maybe he should start fluffing the couch cushions now. Desta giggled beside him.

“You have something, don’t you?” Nureyev swiveled back to his eldest with realisation chasing away the clouds annoyance, “Something big. That’s why you’re playing like this.”

Bianca gave no reaction but a pretty smile, “All you have to do is ask, daddy. Well, ask and win, I guess.”

“Was I born yesterday, treasure?” Nureyev sniffed, “I know how this game is played. I will ask but only when I am in the correct position, perfectly poised to strike.”

“Cool, daddy,” Bianca seemed more interested in her nails, her posture looking like she was having a lazy brunch with a friend.

Desta murmured softly, close to Juno’s ear, “They do...love each other, right?”

“Hard to tell sometimes, isn’t it?” Juno whispered back after a rough chuckle, “But yeah, they’re devoted to each other. They’re just like this.”

They continued to be ‘like this’ for another half hour, playing round after round, questions fired like shots by Nureyev and tossed out lazily by Bianca.

“Did you pull that job over in Olympus with the melting bank notes and not come visit us?”

“So how’s your yoga class? Does Bitch Jan still go?”

“Why do you call your mother when he’s at work when you know I won’t be there?”

“That necklace is cute, is it new?”

“How the hell did you win that last goddamn round?”

“I saw you having dinner at that place on Third Street on Auntie Rita’s feed, is it any good? I was thinking of taking Desta.”

“What exactly did I do to deserve such a terrible child? No that is not my question, shut up Juno!”

The rounds went on and Nureyev’s blood pressure steadily climbed. He lost again and again to Bianca, with her barely breaking a sweat, having to give up the mundanities of their empty nester life, his attempts at baking and their redecorating and the silly streams they liked to watch.

Juno had never seen this happen before. He’d never say it out loud but Bee Bee had always been the better player, when you looked at it all together, but there had never been a game where Nureyev hadn’t taken more than a few rounds from her and it had never been so easy.

Juno narrowed his eye and studied his daughter, now with her feet up on the table and rocking her chair back on two legs, clearly enjoying this. But equally as clearly up to something. Nureyev had it dead to rights, there was something she held, something that had to be big with all the effort she was putting in to make him unwrap it.

Before he could help it, Juno was adding it up. And, in less than a moment, in less time than it took for Bianca to tear her winning hand into shreds and playfully blow them in Nureyev’s direction, he had it.

“Holy shit!” he yelped, slapping a hand over his mouth a second too late.

Bianca shot him a sparkling grin and a look in her eyes like she knew he’d get it eventually. She put her finger to her red painted lips.

“What?” Nureyev looked like he didn’t know whether to flip the table or cry now, eyes darting between the two of them, “Oh come on! Now he knows?”

“He is a detective,” Bee Bee pointed out, “And you are supposed to be good at this game, daddy. You are getting old, huh?”

Nureyev grit his teeth, finger trembling in the air, a million cutting responses crowding on his tongue. But then he dropped his hand to the table and inhaled sharply, letting it come out again in a long, low hiss.

“You know what? Let’s do this. My question...what are you keeping from me, Bianca Nureyev?”

Bee Bee only smiled, almost in acceptance, and pondered a moment, “Um...did you like that podcast I sent you?”

The creases on Nureyev’s brow deepend, “But...but you know that? I told you that? Weeks ago?”

Bee Bee looked untroubled, “Pass or play, daddy?”

“Play,” Nureyev eventually said, after a long moment of him clearly wracking his brain for what new machination their daughter had just put into motion, deciding to let it run.

The difference was palpable, even from where Desta and Juno sat. Before she’d been snake-like in how quick and deadly her movements were, now she was deferential, walking right into his snares without a care, doing something no self respecting Nureyev or Steel had ever done. She was playing fair. All while smiling like she’d already won.

It was a quick slaughter. No one was surprised when they turned their cards over and Nureyev held the winning hand. No one but Nureyev himself.

“I...I don’t understand…” he muttered to himself, as his hands moved automatically to tear his cards, “How did you...after everything…”

“Would you like your answer?” Bianca swung her legs down, leaning close, now intent and eager.

Nureyev almost looked terrified, like he was waiting for a trap to spring around his neck but he couldn’t see how yet, “Yes...yes, fine. What’s this big secret?”

Bianca beamed, like she’d been waiting for this since she walked through the door, “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

Nureyev didn’t seem to register it at first, his face still set in puzzlement. Then his eyes went very, very wide and he sat bolt upright, jaw practically hitting his chest.

Bianca laughed, already standing to go and hug him as tight as she could, only just managing to get out her apologies, her assurances that it was just too hard to resist teasing him, through her giggles. If the way Nureyev clasped her close and buried his face in her cloud of hair, already crying, she was forgiven.

Juno gave himself a moment before he jumped up and pounced on them, a moment to watch them and just how much they loved each other.

A moment to think how, right now, he was so glad they weren’t a conventional family.

#jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #tpp #the penumbra podcast #bianca nureyev #happy birthday Jackie!#so glad you like this!

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