#when you get a new cat adopted bought whatever man your supposed to put it somewhere safe not near sharp or heavy objects that can fall over
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Yk sometimes I forget that not everyone is as autistic about cats as I am cause people will just Say Shit sometimes and genuinely believe it’s true like no, your cat isn’t exhibiting “orange cat behaviors” that’s a kitten they’re all like that, no your cat you bought from a breeder that’s barely felt grass is not an indoor outdoor cat Do Not Let It Run Around Your Fucking House On The First Day You Bring It Home Without Somewhere To Hide Safely, for the love of god don’t pick it up like that what are you doing man
#sry I’m thinking abt that show we watched yesterday people just don’t. do research before getting an animal to live with them#when you get a new cat adopted bought whatever man your supposed to put it somewhere safe not near sharp or heavy objects that can fall over#like a bedroom! so it can get used to the house sounds and smells for a few days. let it have a safe spot#yea cats are mostly independent but you still gotta pay attention to it and give it pets and respect its autonomy#holy shit dude people get cats and just. don’t understand they don’t like things. you should give respect to pets and stuff regardless but#it’s like a code of honor with cats if your gentle and quiet and let it come to you it’ll be more comfortable around you!!!#they’re not cold unfeeling creatures they just need to know you first!!!!!!!!
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pregnancy Series - Part 3

Telling them
Hey! So a lot of you have been waiting and I am honestly happy that you guys seem to like my pregnancy series! Please feel free to tell me your opinion with a comment or through a reblog ( I read every single # ) or just send me a message in my inbox! Hope you enjoy!
Pregnancy Series: Part 1 // Part 2
Jumin
You nervously rubbed your hands together as the weekend finally came.
Ever since Jumin married you, he decided to have his birthday parties only with you instead of throwing big parties with people he didn’t even like just because of his status.
But this time you prepared something special for him.
You decided to invite your father-in-law as well as the RFA, even Zen, at your place on the 4th of October to stay until Jumin’s birthday at midnight the 5th october.
For Zen, you even prepared your party room since your beloved cat wasn’t in every room of the big penthouse your husband owned.
And so you prepared everything without your husband’s knowing. To say it clearly, you made someone else prepare it because you were scared of hurting the baby, being overprotective since it took you so long to get pregnant.
Maybe you were too scared, but you knew that Jumin wouldn’t have wanted you to overwork yourself.
The room was decorated in gold and black colors and you also baked a big cake on your own, deciding to hide a long note into the cake, saying that you were pregnant. At the end of the note, a copy of your first picture of the baby was attached, showing Jumin that whatever was happening was real.
You knew that he would be more than happy to see this, to know about the baby you were carrying.
,,Finally ready,’’ you said and sighed, looking at your clock, knowing that at 8 PM everyone would come home to stay into the room before Jumin would come home with Jaehee from the office.
The first guest to arrive was your father in law. To your surprise, he didn’t take his girlfriend along, but since Jumin always had to prepare a second party for his status, your in-law promised you to bring her along the next day. Well, you knew that this wasn’t going to last for a long time, but to make the elder happy, you nodded and smiled, telling him that you were more than happy to be able to get to know her.
Lastly, Seven, Zen, and Yoosung arrived. Zen and Seven were arguing whether or not the red haired boy should kidnap his Elly.
,,I need to go home with you. You can’t take that fur ball with you!’’ he hissed.
You left the men alone for a second before you waited for the final guest - your husband, of course followed by Jaehee who just sent you a message about her arrival.
Jumin was puzzled at first when you invited Jaehee inside and led the way to another part of the penthouse, but since it was you who asked, it was okay, you were his wife after all.
The surprise party, however, made him emotional and you knew that Jumin was touched just by his mimicry and how he stood there, you knew your husband.
,,I have a present for you, but you will only be allowed to have it at midnight!’’ you teased him after he gave you a long, lovely kiss.
Staying awake almost four hours more was hard for you. Since you knew that you were pregnant, you were even sleepier, but for Jumin you could manage to stay awake. You had to.
,,IT’S MIDNIGHT! BRING THE CAKE!’’ Seven screamed in excitement, making you a bit nervous.
Yoosung carried the cake into the room after you kindly asked him to, as you all sang ,,Happy Birthday’’ to him.
,,Thank you, my love,’’ he whispered and kissed you again, ready to blow his candles.
,,Before you cut the cake, Jumin,’’ you said as he stood there with a knife already ,,here’s something you have to pull out. Read it out loud,’’ you said.
You pressed your lips together as you waited for him to pull out the long white note until finally the first words appeared. ,,I…..’’ he said, he smirked, thinking that the note was ,,I love you’’
,,A….M…..P...R...E...G���-’’ he looked at you in shock before he pulled the note even quicker out of the cake, seeing the last picture of an ultrasound.
For the first time, all members of the RFA saw Jumin Han cry real tears by the man they always called ,,cold hearted’’ as he hugged his wife and kissed her with a lot of love, thanking her over and over again.
,,This is the best present ever,’’ he hiccuped and kneeled down to kiss your flat belly.
Zen
,,You will surely be a good mother!’’ the chocolate lady praised you as she gave you the white chocolate with the baby sonogram of your baby.
You quickly went back in and prepared a few more things. The chocolate was ready, you thought you would now take a little package and put balloons around the chocolate so that it would float up as soon as Zen would open the box.
Since the chocolate was in a cute packaging too, you put a note on it saying to open it immediately to see the surprise.
You guessed that this would be the perfect Valentine’s Day gift.
Then you also decided to bake a few muffins, not just for Zen, but also because you wanted to slowly get used to the idea of baking cakes for your future child.
That evening, you tried your best to act normal because you were overloading with happiness and excitement.
The next day, you woke up pretty quickly. One of the reasons was because you had the urge to throw up and the other reason was because you wanted to drop the news as soon as possible.
,,Mc, did you get checked up? Like-’’
,,Hyun, it’s just a virus. That’s why I had to cancel our reservation at the hospital,’’ you groaned as you again had to empty your stomach.
,,Of course, baby,’’ he whispered, holding your hair as he kept rubbing your back.
At times like these, he wished you could be like him, healing and getting better quickly.
But he also knew that you were a strong woman and didn’t have any problems.
,,Okay, I’m better,’’ you gasped as you went to wash your mouth. The taste you had in your mouth wasn’t really yummy and so you brushed your teeth before you decided to give him his present.
,,Here, for you,’’ you whispered as you laid back in bed, feeling a bit lightheaded.
Zen’s eyes went soft as he saw the big box, placing it on the floor and sitting next to it to open the present.
Just like you wanted, the balloons flew up, pulling the chokolate up.
Zen quickly grabbed the present and read the note out loud.
,,I’m excited. I never thought that Valentine’s Day could become so special one day,’’ he laughed.
You slowly teared up as you thought about how much better and special this day would become.
Zen opened the chocolate and inspected the picture.
He stayed silent for a second before he looked up at you again.
,,Really?’’ he asked you, whispering as his tears found a way out.
,,Really, Hyun, really.’’
Yoosung
You hurried home after the appointment, thinking about the best way to tell your husband that you were pregnant.
After you decided to take a look at some Pinterest boards, you decided to sew a little baby out of his clothes.
You once saw it in a drama and it was, in your opinion, the cutest idea.
And so, you took an old shirt of his and went down to the city, buying some stuff to fill your baby.
It took you the whole day to sew that baby, to first cut the material, put it together in a little cute baby outfit, and patch it together.
You were really happy back then; your teacher taught you how to sew at the machine and your mother bought you one back then.
Right when Yoosung entered, you just finished the little baby.
You were proud of yourself and were more than happy that you could hide the present before he came home.
,,Hello, my wife,“ he smiled and kissed you, seeing that you were in a better mood than in the morning.
,,You haven't cooked yet? Wanna do it together?“ he asked you, seeing that nothing was prepared.
,,Oh, I need to be honest. I took a good rest today and I forgot that it was already so late,“ you lied.
,,It’s okay! I can also order some sushi or-”
,,No sushi!“ you called, looking away.
,,Can we eat pizza?“ you asked him, trying to hide the fact that you preferred to not eat raw fish.
And so you both did, although Yoosung was kind of puzzled when you didn’t take the wine you both usually drank while eating pizza.
The day went by and the next morning finally arrived. You were happy to wake up just in time to set the table, prepare the breakfast, and put his bag with the baby doll on his seat.
,,Happy eighth anniversary,“ he whispered and kissed you, hugging your body from behind, nuzzling his head in your neck.
,,Eight years already,“ you sighed happily and turned around, ready to give him a deep, lovely kiss on his lips.
Yoosung quickly sat down, giving you his hand over the table as he put some sugar in his coffee.
,,That’s for you,“ he told you, giving you an envelope.
You smiled.
,,The bag in front of you is from me for you,“ you told him, as if someone else could have made him a present.
The both of you decided to open your present at the same time.
And once again, you surprised each other.
,,You want to adopt a child?“ you asked him as he almost screamed ,,YOU’RE PREGNANT?“
You both laughed at the same time. Yoosung quickly got up from his chair, getting on his knees as he kissed your belly with tears in his eyes.
,,I knew it! No sushi, no wine! I knew it!“ he sobbed, stroking the place where his baby was supposed to be.
,,Such a little human being will grow up here. Can you believe it?“ Yoosung asked you.
You were also now sobbing, shaking his head as you stroked his fluffy hair ,,Finally, Yoosung, finally,“
Jaehee
Your girlfriend couldn’t wait to hug you, hold you in her arms and so, as soon as she caught a glimpse of you at the train station, she hugged you, sobbing into your shoulder.
It was cold outside and you luckily came back right in time before the holy days of Christmas.
Jaehee still hugged you when suddenly, something soft and cold touched your nose, making you look up into the sky.
,,The first snow,’’ you whispered, making Jaehee loosen up her hug and look up too.
She chuckled as she knew that you loved the snow.
A few seconds later, the both of you walked hand in hand towards your shop. Jaehee was happy as you seemed to be in a happy mood.
Your fingers felt hot as hers were entangled in yours, stroking the skin of your finger with her thumb.
,,Go and take a warm shower. I will make us some food,’’ she mumbled and quickly left you alone.
And so, while the warm water of your shower hit your body, warming you up and relaxing your muscles, you thought of a way to tell Jaehee that you two finally did it.
Suddenly, you got a very good idea. Lately, you were into sublime stitching and found it hard to find new things to stitch, but now that you had your first ultrasound, you finally had a new challenge to take!
You copied your first ultrasound and sent it to your favorite artist, who was more than happy to make your ultrasound into a pattern with ink.
Just like always, you ironed the picture with the hot iron on your fabric, but this time you didn’t buy the pattern and indeed used your own.
You smiled as you saw how good it worked out. You were really proud of yourself that the first step was already so well done!
But you couldn’t keep going as Jaehee called you to open the shop with her.
And so the weeks went by. You luckily didn’t have any symptoms that could have ruined the surprise for Jaehee.
You wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present after all.
You kept stitching along the line, slowly and accurately so that everything would look nice and neat.
When you finally finished, you felt yourself becoming emotional. This was now real, this present and this baby was really happening to you and Jaehee, who waited for so long for this.
The last step was to wash the fabric so that the blue ink would disappear, making it look once again much more beautiful.
,,I can’t wait for Christmas,’’ you chuckled to yourself and put the present into a little box.
,,You really didn’t have to,’’ Jaehee whispered the morning of Christmas Eve.
The both of you sat on your couch in front of your Christmas tree.
It was warm and cozy in your living room as you both were wearing the same Christmas hoodies.
You excitedly looked over to Jaehee as she opened the box.
Her fingers followed every stitched line, her lips began to tremble and it seemed as if she couldn’t breathe calmly.
You were getting worried, but soon enough Jaehee looked at you.
,,Is that yours?’’ she asked her, her voice was cracking.
,,Yes. I didn’t have the flu or covid, I’m pregnant,’’ you laughed.
Jaehee hugged you, not too strong, stroking the back of your hair as she enjoyed the warmth of your body.
,,I don’t have such a great present,’’ she laughed and kissed your cheek.
Saeyoung
The birthday of the twins was slowly approaching. By now you were eight weeks pregnant.
You still had symptoms and felt sick. Sometimes you couldn’t even cook, making Saeyoung worry for you, but you knew that this was worth it.
You chuckled as you thought about your self made toy you prepared as a present for Saeyoung. It was a toy he had to play first before the news of your pregnancy would be announced.
It took you a while to construct everything.
It was a game where he had to put cards together. To put them together, he had to form different sentences in different languages.
Matching cards would give him a letter and afterwards those letters would give him the sentence ,,You will be soon a daddy!’’ but of course, he had to also form this sentence.
Since it was kind of difficult to perform this all in Hangul, you decided to make it an english game.
For Saeran, you prepared a little teddy bear which would say ,,Hello Uncle’’ but of course, he wasn’t allowed to open his present until Saeyoung played with his present.
The 11th of June quickly approached you guys as you woke up one morning. Luckily, you still didn’t feel sick.
You hugged Saeyoung as you woke him up with a sweet kiss ,,Good morning,’’ you whispered, making him groan, but not open his eyes.
,,Hello, how did you sleep?’’ you asked him when he turned his body to you and hugged you back.
,,Good, but being awake next to you is better,’’ he whimpered and almost fell asleep again.
,,Ya! Your birthday breakfast is waiting for you!’’ you hissed and laughed.
He immediately jumped up, yelling for his brother. ,,SAERAN, YOU ARE TURNING A YEAR OLDER!’’ he laughed, making you shake your head.
But you were happy that Saeyoung finally found his brother. You could just imagine how it must have been for him to miss his second half for all those years.
And even though Saeran didn’t admit it, he probably missed his brother too.
The three of you were sitting around the table as they ate their soup. It was a special soup for their birthday.
,,I will give you your birthday present later when the other’s are here too,’’ you told them both, making your husband especially sad. ,,You always want your present at midnight and now I have to wait?’’ he asked you, whining as you laughed at him.
,,It’s special, that’s why,’’ you told him, making him sulk.
,,My presents are always special,’’ he whined but didn’t say anything anymore as he enjoyed his food.
You were nervous as the RFA came one by one. By now, you guys were always together. You saw yourselves as a family.
,,Okay guys, because of you I couldn’t open my present!’’ he whined and finally unpacked the box. At first he looked a bit… puzzled, which made you chuckle.
You explained to him how to play and even persuaded him to play on his own.
,,Boring that everyone is watching me,’’ he mumbled as Saeran kept patting his present, you told him he wasn’t allowed to open it yet.
,,Is that german? ,,Wir müssen…’’ what?’’ he laughed.
But one by one he did it and finally had the single letters that would give the hidden message.
,,I am pregnant, I don’t even have to think about it, that’s the message, right?’’ he said and immediately looked up at you, already in tears.
By now, Saeran too, unpacked his bear and in a big family embrace, Saeyoung cried into your shoulder.
Saeran
After you were brought to the maternity ward and they did some more tests, it seemed that it was official that you were pregnant!
Saeran got up as soon as he saw you walking out of the big doors.
,,Is it something serious? It took you so long and no one wanted to say anything,’’ he whined and took your hand between his, massaging your palm as he slowly walked out with you.
,,I just had to wait a long time,’’ you lied and smiled at him, trying to convince him that you just had a mere virus.
And so the days passed again and you worked on a present for Saeran who was a soon to be father.
You put a lot of thought into it and decided that doing something handmade would be much better than just telling him.
That’s why you decided to give him something your baby would get - a handmade baby blanket with his favorite flower patched on it.
You put a lot of hard work into it, using the best material and the most beautiful colors.
And since the gender was still unknown, you decided to go for a light beige color with some red details.
In the end, the blanket looked just too cute and it hit you - you were pregnant.
The day was nothing special when you told Saeran that you would like to go and eat an ice cream with him, something he agreed to immediately.
He took a few hours free and hand in hand with you, he went to buy ice cream for the both of you, enjoying the sun on your skin and the nature around you.
,,What do you have in that bag?’’ he asked you after a while, still licking his ice cream as he pointed at the little bag in your hand.
,,Nothing,’’ you began, ,,just something little I want to give you,’’ you told him, making him excited to know what you would like to give him.
To prevent the blanket from getting dirty, you decided to wait until the both of you were finished with the ice cream, giving you the chance to talk to Saeran a bit more about his day and your day.
,,Okay, now I’m ready,’’ he nodded and looked at the bag. He couldn’t wait to see what you had prepared for him in there.
He opened the bag and pulled out the self made blanket, observing every little detail.
He tilted his head as he looked at the length of it.
,,It’s a bit too little for you, right?’’ you laughed, making him laugh too.
Suddenly, Saeran saw a little note in there.
,,It’s not for you, it’s for your baby, Dad. Congratulations…’’ he whispered and put the note back into the bag, looking at the tiny blanket again.
You knew that he was happy, but probably overwhelmed with this news and so you decided to wait a few moments.
But as soon as the news arrived in his head, Saeran couldn’t prevent himself from hugging and thanking you a thousand times.
,,You...you always make me so happy…!’’ he whined.
,,I will give my best to become a good father,’’ he said with a trembling voice.
,,I won’t become like my parents. I will be a good one and I will protect you and our unborn child,’’ he whispered, his hand on your belly by now.
,,I promise,’’ he nodded.
,,I trust you, Saeran.’’
Jihyun
As soon as Saeyoung heard those words, he began to tear up and hugged you, patting your back. He was just so happy for you and Jihyun as he knew that the both of you had a hard time lately.
,,Let’s get back and prepare something!’’ he said in his mischievous smile and helped you to get into the car.
Of course, to keep it fair, Saeyoung wasn’t allowed to tell anybody. Instead, the both of you planned on how to tell Jihyun who would soon come back home.
,,How about I make a computer print of your future family and he has to paint it in little colors? We will just make it with so many details that he won’t notice from the beginning that it’s a family picture of four!’’ Saeyoung chuckled. You loved the idea and were more than happy to go with it.
You and Saeyoung worked on the details while the rest of the RFA weren’t at your home as they too had their personal lives.
Saeyoung and Saeran, however, stayed with you partly because Saeyoung prepared the surprise with you, but also because they both were worried.
When you finally finished with the layout and Saeyoung helped you to print it out, you wouldn’t be able to tell that this was a picture of a family.
,,I wonder how he will react,’’ you laughed and thanked him for his hard work.
,,Those were the longest six weeks I’ve ever experienced,’’ you whimpered when Jihyun finally arrived at home, Lucy on your hand, also more than happy to see her father.
Hugging the both of you, he nodded in agreement.
,,I also missed the both of you,’’ he said honestly.
Quickly letting him step in, you took his stuff and helped him to unpack before you told him that dinner would be soon ready.
,,I have a little challenge for you,’’ you laughed as you went back to your room to take the picture you prepared for him.
,,Oh, I saw that on Instagram,’’ he nodded, as he remembered the logic of the painting.
,,Yes, but I did this myself,’’ you said proudly, handling it over to him.
He laughed happily ,,I’m excited to work on it, thank you!’’ he laughed.
,,Yes, but there’s a hidden message in it so you need to hurry with it!’’ you told him, not knowing that you encouraged him to work on it the whole night after you fell asleep that night.
In the morning, when you just opened your eyes and saw his black bags below his eyes, paint all over his hands, you knew that he overworked himself.
,,Will we be able to adopt a child?’’ he asked you, his voice was raspy as he asked you, tears in his eyes, excited to know the answer.
You slowly shook his head, making him wonder if his sleepy eyes made him see something he just wanted to see.
But you didn’t want to tease him anymore so you finally told him. ,,I’m pregnant, Jihyun. I wasn’t sick back then, I was just… pregnant! I was having symptomes. We will have a child together soon!’’ you told him, slowly getting up from the bed.
,,I’m so happy,’’ he sighed and kissed your belly.
,,I will never go away for such a long time, I swear,’’ he whispered and then, with his knees on the floor and head on your lap, slowly fell asleep….
Vanderwood
You observed Vanderwood, noticing that the mood was being off for a few days.
To be honest, it was happening ever since you told him that you wanted to stop trying to have children for the time being.
Your eyes followed Vanderwood as he walked out and took out a cigarette, sluggishly smoking and looking around.
You began to chew on your lips as you thought back, maybe beginning the topic with ,,Yo’’ wasn’t the best way to start.
But there was no way back now and it didn’t matter anymore since you finally got pregnant.
You hoped that a day later, Vanderwood’s birthday, this silence between the both of you would be over finally as you wanted to surprise him with a self made cake which said, ,,Hello Daddy!’’
Of course, you firmly told him to not look at it, something he would never do since he knew how much you liked to surprise him.
,,Vandy,’’ you called him softly.
,,Don’t call me like that,’’ he groaned, a bit annoyed as he closed the door.
,,Are you angry at me?’’ you asked him, scared for his answer.
Vanderwood turned his body to you.
He didn’t look happy and you just noticed.
,,I’m not angry, I’m just… I have the feeling that you don’t really care about having a family with me while I work my ass of and-’’
,,Woah, what gives you that idea?’’ you asked him, slowly getting off the couch and looking at him.
You didn’t want to fight with him, but his comment… hurt you deeply.
,,Last time, sorry, but you approached the topic totally wrong!’’ he hissed, on his way to the kitchen.
You followed him there. He was partly right, you thought.
,,But, I was just… I didn’t know how to tell you, but this doesn’t mean that I don’t care,’’ you told him, your trembling voice making him look back at you.
,,I know. It still hurts though,’’ he whispered and opened the fridge to take out a cold drink.
,,You know what,’’ you told him, holding onto the door of the fridge and pulling out the cake you made for him which was covered with something so that he couldn’t see what was written on it with the chocolate.
,,What-’’ before Vanderwood could even say anything, you showed him the cake you prepared for him with the note written on it that you were pregnant.
,,It’s true. I was mean and I should have approached you differently, but I was so down, I didn’t think I could get pregnant anytime soon and- just don’t say anymore that I don’t care,’’ you finished your sentence and looked up, your tears were rolling down your cheeks as you were unsure of what to do now.
But Vanderwood knew what he had to do and softly took you in his arms, laying you down in the other room and kissing your neck.
,,You destroyed my surprise,’’ he whispered, giving you a kiss again.
,,Sorry for being selfish. I was mean while you’ve been carrying my baby,’’ he honestly apologized, stroking your flat womb as you sobbed into his shoulder.
Part 4.1 of my pregnancy series here
MASTERLIST 1
MASTERLIST 2
MASTERLIST 3
🤰🏻ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ sᴇʀɪᴇs🤰🏻Masterlist here
16.05.2021// 00:12 MEST
#pregnancy#mystic messenger pregnancy series#jumin han#jumin x reader#jumin x mc#zen hyun ryu#zen x mc#zen x reader#yoosung kim#yoosung x reader#yoosung x mc#jaehee kang#jaehee x mc#jaehee x reader#saeyoung choi#saeyoung x mc#saeyoung x reader#luciel choi#luciel x reader#luciel x mc#707 x mc#707 x reader#saeran choi#saeran x mc#saeran x reader#jihyun kim#jihyun x mc#jihyun x reader#Vanderwood#vanderwood x mc
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not According To Plan
Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Reader
Word Count: 1,557
TW: none really, just a very brief mention of assault and crime scene photos?
A/N: A follow up to Almost Perfect, but can be read as a stand alone. Just a whole lot of fluff, (sorry, not sorry if it's so sweet it rots your teeth. I still like a sweet, romantic Frederick) This was originally supposed to cover the Cuddling square for #thatesqcrush Valentine's Day Bingo, but it kept getting pushed to the back-burner, and by the time I started working on it again, I knew it wasn't going to be done in time. But I wanted to finish it and get it posted before moving on to something else, so here it is. Better late than never?
Tags: @madamsnape921 (If anyone wants to be tagged in a future fic post, please let me know!)
It was safe to say that your first Valentine’s Day with Frederick Chilton wasn’t going the way you had hoped it would. It had started off well enough, with the both of you waking up early and making love before work, but once you had arrived at work, everything had gone downhill quickly. Yes, Frederick had a bouquet of red roses delivered to your office, but you barely had any time to enjoy them, as you had to rush to finish up a report for the board that wasn’t supposed to have been due until the following week. Then Jack Crawford and Will Graham had showed up needing a psychiatric consult for a new case. The crime scene photos were so gruesome you had rush to the ladies’ room to throw up. The final straw had been when one your patients had attacked you during a therapy session. Thankfully, you knew how to defend yourself and you’d had an orderly with you. You came away from it with a few bumps and bruises and a cut on your cheek. But you were shaken up enough that Frederick had insisted that you go home and relax, promising that he’d finish up his own work and join you as soon as possible.
And now it was going on 4pm and you were standing at the living room window of Frederick’s, no, your house, you lived here now, gazing out at the front yard and street, wishing for Frederick’s car to come into view. He had called you 30 minutes ago to let you know he was leaving the hospital but had a stop to make. The weather forecast was calling for a snowstorm to blow in that evening, and the snow was already starting to fall. You didn’t want Frederick to get caught driving in that. You shivered, feeling the chill through the glass.
You felt something small and furry brush against leg and looked down, smiling when you saw the black kitten looking up at you. She placed her front paws on your leg and meowed, signaling that she wanted “up”. You knelt down and picked her up, snuggling her against your chest. She nuzzled her nose against your chin and let out another soft meow.
“I know, Buttercup, I know, baby, I’m worried about Daddy, too.” You took one last look, then closed the heavy curtains to better insulate the room. You crossed the room to the thermostat and turned up the heat, and then went to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine to calm your nerves.
You and Frederick had been together for about 6 months now, and they’d been the happiest months of your life. Ever since that eventful first date the previous summer, you and Frederick had been practically inseparable. You had moved in with him after New Year’s, and while you had never moved so fast in your previous relationships, Frederick was different. You were completely in love with him. He was the one, there was no doubt about that in your mind. Whenever you imagined your future, you saw him in it, you saw marriage, kids, all of it.
You had expected him to at least put up an argument when you suggested adopting a cat, but your dear, sweet man couldn’t deny you anything. Instead, he started researching what kind of supplies you’d need and looking at the local animal shelter websites to see what your options were. And that was how you found Buttercup. From the moment you saw her picture, you just knew. And when you went to the shelter and held her for the very first time, she fell asleep and started purring. She went home with you that day. She’d only been with you for a few weeks now, but she was already settled in and followed you and Frederick everywhere. She always wanted to cuddle and that suited you and Frederick just fine.
You wanted nothing more than to be cuddled up with Frederick right now. The perfect Valentine’s Day that you had planned was falling apart. The elaborate meal you were going to prepare? You were too tired to cook. That new lingerie you bought? You were no longer in the mood to wear it, or for sex. You would stick with your hoodie and soft, knit lounge pants tonight. Your stomach growled, and your mind went to the desert that you had prepared the night before. The red velvet cake trifle with the raspberry/blackberry red wine reduction sauce was chilling in the fridge.
“Should I?” You asked, looking down at Buttercup, still nestled in your arms.
“Mew?” she replied, looking confused. Then her eyes went to the drawstring on your hoodie and she began batting at it with her paw. “Mew…” You couldn’t help but giggle.
“You’re absolutely right, sweetie, I think some playtime is definitely warranted.”
******************
Buttercup wiggled her backside and pounced, her tiny paws swiping at the oversize peacock feather you were dangling in front of her. You laughed as she grabbed onto it and tried to bite down. When you tried to pull it away, she rolled over onto her back and started kicking it with her hind paws. It was one of the cutest sights in the world and you couldn’t get enough. Seeing her so happy made you happy. You both jumped when you heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps and a cane clicking on the hardwood floor.
“Darling?”
You breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Frederick’s voice. Buttercup went bounding to meet to him and you got up and followed, smiling when you saw Frederick hanging up his coat in the entryway closet. Buttercup was welcoming him home by weaving around his legs, meowing her little head off.
“Hmm…fascinating…” Frederick nodded in reply to the kitten, “and then what did you do today?”
You heart swelled at the sight. You loved the way he interacted with her and spoke to her like she was a human. It made you wonder what he would be like with a little one of your own…He met your gaze and you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Thank god, your home! I was so worried about you getting stuck in the snow!”
His arms encircled you, pulling you flush against him. “There is no snowstorm powerful enough to keep me away from you, my love. Forgive me for not getting here sooner. The roads are already a mess, and you said you didn’t feel like cooking, so I picked up some takeout.” He indicated two brown paper bags sitting on the small table by the front door.
You looked up at him and smiled. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because I love you.”
He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, too, Y/N, and I never get tired of hearing it. How are you feeling?”
“Much better now that you’re home.”
Frederick wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. All the tension melted out of your body as you got lost in the warm sensation. All of his kisses were loving and passionate, and this was no different, his lips melding perfectly with yours. You gently started to run your tongue all his lower lip, intending to deepen the kiss, but were interrupted by a loud yowl and Buttercup headbutting you in the shin. You and Frederick looked down and saw her staring back, giving you the most forlorn look that she could muster
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we haven’t forgotten about you,” you reassured her. “Do you want your dinner?”
“Mew! Mew!” She answered, insistently rubbing against your leg.
You looked back at Frederick. “I’m going to get her taken care of, then we’ll eat, okay?”
Frederick nodded and kissed you one more time. “I’ll get the food plated while you do that.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You rested your forehead against his, hesitant to let him go.
“My love? Is everything alright?”
“Are you okay if we just cuddle on the couch tonight? I just…I just really need you to hold me.”
Frederick placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and gave you a warm smile. “As you wish, my love.”
“Did you just…”
“Yes, I did,” he replied with a chuckle. “Cuddling on the couch sounds perfect. Whatever make you happy is more than fine with me.”
“Thank you,” you said, pulling him in for another kiss. “I love you, Frederick.”
“I love you, too, my darling.”
********************
“So, do you think it will snow enough that we won’t have to go into work tomorrow?”
“One can only hope, my love,” Frederick answered, kissing your temple.
The two of you were cuddled on the couch under a blanket watching your favorite movie. You were curled up on your side with Frederick spooning you from behind, his arms wrapped around your mid-section. Buttercup was snuggled up in front of you, purring away.
“This is perfect,” you remarked, turning your head to glance back at Frederick. “I mean, this isn’t how I thought our first Valentine’s Day would go, but I’m happy, nonetheless. I love you, Frederick.”
“I love you, too, Y/N, Happy Valentine’s Day.”
#frederick chilton#frederick chilton x reader#hannibal#hannibal fanfiction#fan fiction#my writing#raul esparza#better late than never
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ponder on the Narrow House
fandom: Lucifer
main characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael
pairings: Mazikeen/Eve/Michael
summary: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.
warnings: Violence, gun violence, trauma, dehumanization, outdoor sex.
0
In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.
She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.
Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.
Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.
Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.
“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”
She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.
When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”
He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”
Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”
His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’
“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”
“They’re afraid of you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”
She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”
Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”
“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”
“A… job.”
“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”
He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.
“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”
She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”
“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.”
0
“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.
“Doesn’t have a soul?”
A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”
Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”
“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.
“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.
“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”
He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.
But he was tired.
Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”
“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”
She pushed him into the sea.
Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”
0
It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.
“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”
Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”
“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”
Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”
Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”
“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”
“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”
“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”
Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”
“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”
“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.
His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”
“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.
“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”
Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”
Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”
“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?”
0
“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.
“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”
(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)
“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”
To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.
“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”
She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.
He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”
“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”
“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”
“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”
“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”
She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”
“No.”
“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”
For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.
But he was tired, tired, tired.
“Here.”
He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”
As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep.
0
It was night when he awoke.
He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.
“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.
“It’s freezing,” he complained.
She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”
They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.
He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”
“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”
Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”
“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”
When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”
0
Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.
Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.
At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.
Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.
Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.
It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.
Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.
If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?
And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?
And later: Why is nothing fair?
And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?
“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”
Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.
Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.
“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.
Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”
The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.
Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”
“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”
Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”
His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”
Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”
“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.
“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”
“Kapish,” he muttered.
The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.
“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.
Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”
“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”
“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.
Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”
She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.
Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.
Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.
She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.
Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.
“It is beneath her,” he muttered.
She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”
There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.
“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”
More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.
Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”
The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.
“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.
“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”
One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.
The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.
When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.
“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.
Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.
“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”
“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”
“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”
The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.
“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”
Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”
By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.
“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”
After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”
Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.
Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”
“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.”
0
Bombshell curls. The only way to celebrate victory.
“Should I even ask why your hair smells like burning plastic?” asked Britney, a sixty-four year old veteran stylist with spectacles and a bright blue bob. She’d worked in Hollywood since she was seventeen and her skilled hands, according to rumour, had tended to Viola Davis herself.
Mazikeen flipped through a magazine with the hand that wasn’t getting its nails painted red-gold by two assistants down on their knees, as intensely focused as if they were touching up The Last Supper. “Blew up some jet skis. Don’t worry about it.”
Picking up the curling iron, Britney said, “That handsome guy you and Eve came in with… new boyfriend?”
“Ha! No. Not in a million years. He’s my intern.”
Eve had only wanted a trim and, as soon as it was done, had dragged Michael away to shop for books and shoes. She was trying, without much subtlety, to work out what he liked; what he did for fun; if he was even capable of having fun. Waste of time, in Mazikeen’s opinion, especially considering that before the end of the week he’d probably run away to some dark hole where he could get back to wallowing in his bitterness. But maybe not. Eve clearly had hope and Mazikeen trusted her judgement.
As the assistants moved on to her other hand, her phone buzzed.
Glancing up to meet Britney’s gaze in the mirror, Mazikeen said, “Get that for me? My nails are wet and it’s probably Eve. Word’s got out what happens to all other humans who call me on a Saturday.”
The older woman’s blue eyebrows bounced as she picked up the phone. “Might be that tasty boss of yours!”
“Nope,” she muttered, old unhappiness flaring hot in her heart. “He only ever calls when he wants me to do something and right now, there’s nothing he can’t do himself.”
Britney held the phone up in front of her face.
There was a message from Linda.
Charlie’s missing his Auntie Maze – see u for dinner Tuesday? J <3
“Uh – are you crying?” asked Britney.
“No!” she snapped. “Just… shut up. Reply for me. Say yes. And add a knife emoji. I always use knife emojis.”
Just then, a white woman with long brown hair and skinny jeans strode purposefully into the salon.
Britney tutted and held up a hand. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Ms Smith has booked the entire…”
She trailed off as the woman’s eyes flashed red.
“Chantinelle,” Mazikeen greeted, spinning the chair round and crossing her legs regally. “It’s okay, Britney. She’s a friend. Well – an ally.”
Gravel-voiced, like she smoked heavily, the other demon drawled, “I’m touched, your great and gracious Majesty.”
Mazikeen snickered. “Bitch, get over here.”
With a smirk, Chantinelle marched over and planted a fierce kiss on her cheek.
“What news from Hell?” Mazikeen asked her sister.
Chantinelle briefed her while Britney and the others finished up her curls and manicure. They spoke in Lilim, Chantinelle parking her denim-clad butt on the vanity next to an arsenal of combs and keeping one eye on the door. She’d already tried twice to convince Mazikeen that a queen needed a bodyguard, to no avail.
When their meeting was concluded, Britney said, “So you’re from Holland, right? Oh! It’s a lovely country. My cousin lives there and she’s always telling me to visit.”
(Britney knew they weren’t from Holland. Britney knew they weren’t from Earth. Britney was one of those people who coped with uncomfortable realities like demons in her workplace by ignoring them.)
“Will you be coming home soon?” Chantinelle asked before she left.
Studying her reflection – avoiding her sister’s gaze – Mazikeen said, “Mmm. Yeah. Soon. Just got a few things to finish up here.”
“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long. The family misses you. I mean – it’s been years, y’know?”
“I know. I do.”
“I didn’t know you had a family,” Britney commented after Chantinelle had gone. “How come you never talk about them?”
Mazikeen handed over a wad of blood-spattered cash. “Eh. After a while, I figured out that nobody likes it when I do.”
She began making her way across the mall to Eve’s favourite shoe shop, then stopped when she approached the arcade and heard her girlfriend’s laugh over the beeps and buzzes of various games.
Unsurprised, she wandered in and found her on the Dance Dance Revolution platform, barefoot and skirt twirling as she beat the shit out of someone’s high score, surrounded by a crowd of cheering, applauding onlookers.
Michael stood off to the side, clutching three bulging shopping bags and looking mortified.
“I couldn’t stop her,” he hissed to Mazikeen. “What the hell? What the actual hell? I thought you were trying to maintain a reputation on this crummy rock! What’re your enemies going to think if this is how your allies behave in public?”
“I figure they’ll think something like, ‘Oh my God, she’s tapping that? I am going to literally die of jealousy’,” Mazikeen said, kicking off her stilettos and handing them to him. “Go fetch us some bottled water, wimp. We’ll be here for a while.”
Eve’s competitor on the adjacent platform yelped as Mazikeen shoved him off and took his place.
“Hi, pretty lady,” said Eve, her eyes sparkling. “You know I’ve been dancing for millions of years, right?”
Mazikeen grinned at her and tossed back her bombshell curls. “Bring it, beautiful.”
Out the corner of her eye, she saw Michael blush bright red.
0
What was he doing here?
“We are fifteen miles over the speed limit!”
Mazikeen cackled and drove faster. In the seat beside her, Eve punched the air and turned up the radio until Michael thought Rihanna’s voice would burst even his divine eardrums. (Contrary to his brother’s accusations, he did, in fact, enjoy some types of music. Just not when it was loud or fast-paced.)
“May I remind you of a crucial fact?” he demanded, having to shout to be heard. “It’s not me who’ll die if this thing flips! Angel, remember? You two are the ones who’ll be splattered all over the road! Hello? Is anybody listening to me?”
“I’m a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine,” Mazikeen sang.
The desert outside the cherry-red convertible they’d stolen in Las Vegas was a sickening blur and he hated it. Not that he’d never travelled this fast – though he was slower than just about all his siblings in the air, he could still outpace a jet. But flying under his own power couldn’t be compared to being trapped in this hideous human death trap under the command of a demon and a madwoman.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, this time to himself, gripping his seatbelt with both hands like it was the neck of an angry serpent. “Whatever happens. Even if we crash. They’ll die. I’ll be fine.”
“Hey!” called Eve, turning to look at him, squinting. “Are you really not having fun? Maze! Slow down! He’s not having fun.”
Mazikeen groaned but brought them back to a less terrifying percentage of light speed, while Eve undid her seatbelt and climbed into the back with Michael.
He sputtered. “Jesus H. Christ – you’re not supposed to do that while the vehicle is moving. Rules exist for a reason, goddammit.”
“I’m sorry we freaked you out,” Eve told him, with… confusing sincerity.
None of his siblings had ever apologised for frightening him, Lucifer least of all (“Aww – don’t be so nervous, brother!” and a golden laugh from the brave, adventurous Morningstar after he’d enticed Michael to fly with him into a hurricane for fun and the noise and sight of it had made his twin cry).
When Michael was young, he’d assumed that was because apologies were for lesser beings, like mortals – except that when he’d discovered his latent talent for underhanded pranks, his siblings had all turned around and demanded apologies from him. The pranks had become progressively mean-spirited after that.
Waiting for the other shoe to drop – for the punchline – he said, carefully, “It’s fine.”
The wind had blown Eve’s hair all over the place. As she brushed it out of her eyes, he was reminded that today she’d chosen to wear one of her thin white summer dresses, this one low-cut enough to make it clear that that was all she was wearing.
Now mischievous, she winked at him. “But you know… if I made a habit of following those rules you like so much, I’d still be married and bored out of my mind. Wanna kiss?”
He nearly jumped out of the car.
“Uh,” he croaked.
His gaze flickered past Eve’s inquisitive face to the back of Mazikeen’s head. How long did he have? How many milliseconds left before she turned around and tore out his throat in a fit of frenzied jealousy?
“Hell, yeah!” Mazikeen cheered, throwing up the horns. “One of you take a picture for me. Or, better yet, move over so I can see you in the rear view mirror.”
Eve’s chin tilted downwards as she examined Michael. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like he’s into it. Er – yikes. Actually, I think he’s gonna throw up. Might wanna pull over, babe.”
“I’m not going to throw up! I just need… just need air. Could you sit back for a moment?” he hissed.
She did so and he got his breathing under control. Crap, his shoulder hurt so much today.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, fidgeting. “I didn’t mean to-…”
“Is this because of him?” Michael snarled, suddenly furious.
“What?”
“Him! Lucifer! He dumped you, yeah? And now you’re – what, trying to get back at him by hitting on me? Or is it just because I look like him so I’m the best substitute you can get, or-…”
She slapped him.
It hurt.
(It really did. What? Since when did getting hit by mortals hurt?)
Mazikeen whistled approvingly.
“No,” said Eve, half-growling. “I’m not like that. I don’t use people like that, Michael.”
He touched the part of his face where her skin had met his. It felt hot. Tingly. He swallowed. “Um – right. Got it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
The anger in her eyes subsided. “Good. Now, would you like to kiss me or not? It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’ll still be part of the team. This is just for fun.”
Feeling oafish and off-kilter, he gestured at Mazikeen. “Won’t she mind?”
“Nope!” Mazikeen volunteered without hesitation.
Eve, exasperated, huffed, “I already asked her if she’d mind. Do you really think I’d put the offer on the table if I hadn’t? Whatever they say about me in the Silver City, I’m neither frivolous nor disloyal. I didn’t go behind Adam’s back when I fell in love with your brother; I told him to his face what I was doing.”
“Oh. Didn’t know that.”
“Because he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. Adam was a decent man who didn’t love me at all. But Maze does, and I love her, and we’ve decided this is something we’re both okay with.”
“Yeah, most demons are poly,” Mazikeen told him. “As long as everyone’s on board and on the same page, you can hook up with whoever you like.”
“Last chance: kiss or no kiss?” said Eve.
She was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. His chest felt tight. “I don’t like ultimatums.”
“Okay. How about wagers? I bet you anything I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met. Or requests? Please, please kiss me, Michael. Or-…”
She was so warm. Her breath flowing into his mouth felt like drinking hot chocolate on a Winter’s night, sugary heat poured down his throat and filling up his whole chest.
His bones seemed to melt. He slid down the seat, half-pushed, until he lay almost flat with her on top of him, cradling his face in her hands, her thumbs making slow, comforting circles on his jaw.
“Ghnnff-fu-fuck,” he slurred.
That he was hard, and had been hard ever since he’d noticed how low-cut her dress was, seemed almost irrelevant in the face of far more interesting observations, like the soft grunts she made or the way her breasts felt pressed tight against him, until she slid a thigh between his legs.
He cried out. Arched.
“There you go,” she purred against his neck.
Elegant and effortless, she took off her shoes and her panties, and slid down onto his cock with a soft, fluttering sigh. Grabbed his hand and raised it to cover one of her nipples.
Just before he came, he opened his eyes and gazed up, and the sun had moved behind her, draining all but her edges of definition, and the wind had picked up her hair again and sent it billowing up and out, like dark wings. Like his wings.
“Michael! Ah!”
The car stopped.
“Huh,” said Mazikeen. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”
She pointed. Panting, they both followed her finger.
Across the sky, from one horizon to the next, the clouds had arranged themselves into the words
I LOVE YOU DETECTIVE !!!!
-LM
“Oh, crud,” said Eve.
0
Fuck the next bounty.
After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.
Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.
Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.
She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”
Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”
“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.
He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.
“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”
Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”
“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”
Michael was snickering.
“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”
“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”
Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”
“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.
Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”
Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.
She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”
“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”
Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”
“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”
“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”
Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.
Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”
“Who?”
“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”
Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”
“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”
“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”
“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”
“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.
Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”
“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”
Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”
Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”
“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.
Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”
0
He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.
“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”
“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”
“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”
“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”
He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”
Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.
Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”
He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”
“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.
“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.
Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.
“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”
Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”
He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).
Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”
“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”
Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.
“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”
“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”
Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”
“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”
Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”
Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”
“No.”
He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”
“We won’t rampage. We just-…”
“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”
Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”
He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”
Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”
Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”
Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”
“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”
“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”
“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”
“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”
“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.
“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”
Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”
“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”
“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”
He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.
To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.
Where Mazikeen was crying.
No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.
Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.
“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.
He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.
“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”
“Don’t touch me.”
It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.
Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.
Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.
The elevator closed.
“What have I done?” he asked Linda.
0
Nothing I didn’t know.
“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.
The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.
“Maze! Wait!”
Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.
“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.
The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.
Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.
Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.
Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.
“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.
That was what cracked her.
To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.
I’m just incapable of earning his.
Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.
Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.
Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.
“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”
“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”
“We obeyed!”
“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”
She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”
Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”
Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.
Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”
Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”
She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”
“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.
“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.
Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”
“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”
“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”
Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”
TO BE CONTINUED
#lucifer#mazikeen#lucifer morningstar#eve#michael#michael demiurgos#amenadiel#dan espinoza#linda martin#fanfic#my fic
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Raiders of the Lost Arf || Layla and Kaden
TIMING: After Celeste’s death, Before the June Full Moon LOCATION: Animal shelter PARTIES: @laylacooke and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Layla comes to the shelter to adopt Indiana Bones and Kaden ends up helping a teen wolf.
It had taken Layla a lot of courage to return to Animal Control, especially knowing that Kaden knew exactly what she was. They had, after all, faced a poltergeist together. But all she could think about lately, aside from Celeste and the heartbreaking fate she ended up facing, was the small puppy she had fallen in love with the night she had first went to AC. With a deep breath and a new found courage, she stepped across the threshold only to be greeted by a smiling face, “Hi there! What can I help you with today?” The woman was kind, and it was refreshing to hear. The idea of encountering Kaden first hadn’t sat well with and had almost been the reason, she had not come in. “You guys have a puppy; Indy. I was wanting to start the adoption process for him.” A soft smile spread across her face, as her heart started to flutter in a good way knowing Indy would be coming home with her soon.
Kaden had a scared stray cat with him who he needed to drop off, one of the few normal moments in his job in a while. Earlier that day he had dealt with an amphisbaena that had gotten into someone’s home and then later he had to shoo a bonedoggle away from a trash compactor. Finding and helping a stray cat who might find a nice home was a welcome break. Even if the fucker had taken a couple swipes at him before Kaden could get it in the cat carrier. Cat safely left in a crate and ready to be treated by the vet and all the files squared away, he decided to take a few minutes to say hi to whoever was at the front desk, maybe see if any of the animals had been adopted recently, the nice fluffy part of his job. He didn’t expect to see a familiar redhead at the front desk. To be fair, he felt the chill down his spine before he saw her, he’d just pushed it aside temporarily. He should really turn and walk away, let the staff take care of this so he could get back to work. Didn’t feel right to just leave, though. “I’m assuming you’re here to pick up Indy?” he asked. It looked like the paperwork was complete or just about. “I can bring you back if you want. Do the whole double check, make sure it’s the right dog, procedure while they get you all squared away.”
Layla had been working on her paperwork, when the familiar scent had made its way through the building. Kaden. He was here. Memories of that night flashed through her mind, and she felt a phantom pain rush the stab wound that was now mostly just scabbed over; the last of the stitches Celeste had put in, coming out days prior. Pushing the paperwork over to the lady at the counter, she remained smiling, but that smile faltered a little when she saw him come out, “Yep. Told you I’d be back. Couldn’t leave the little guy here any longer.” She really didn’t want to be alone in a room with the man, but if it’s what she had to do to get the dog, then she would. “And sure. Lead the way.” She would follow him, reluctantly, when he was ready to take her back.
Kaden took her to the back right to where Indy’s cage was and the dog timidly got up to see who was there. One or two little sniffs in the air and he bounded over to the front of the cage to greet them. “Here he is,” he said. “Looks like he remembers you.” He smiled a little, almost forgetting the whole situation, what she was. Kaden wasn't entirely sure where whatever sympathy he felt for her came from, but it was there. That wasn't true, he knew a little. For one, it was hard not to feel a little empathy towards someone who loved animals as much as she clearly did. As much as he didn’t want to feel shit for a werewolf. But also their shared experience with hunter parents, the harsh life that comes with it; there was a reason it was so easy for him to find fast friends in just about any new town or city he went to, so long as there was a respite for hunters somewhere. Their backgrounds weren’t the same, surely, but close enough. Always was. “You have plans for him for the full moon?” he asked, looking back at the dog who seemed eager to say hello to both of them, but mostly Layla.
When they reached the cage, Layla kneeled down to greet Indy. There he was in all his small, fuzzy puppy glory. And she swore, she could see a smile on his little face. Sticking her fingers through the bars, she giggled as he licked them, “I’m so grateful he’s still here. I figured a little fella as cute as him would’ve gotten adopted much sooner.” She continued to play with him through the bars, until she heard Kaden’s question, “He’s staying with a friend. This dog will be nowhere near me when the full moon comes. If anything happened to him, because of what I am, I couldn’t live with myself.” She knew Indy could smell what she was, and maybe that’s why he was drawn to her so easily, but she would find a safe place for him days before the full moon.
“Well I made sure you had first choice, in case you decided to come back,” Kaden said plainly, like it was routine. “It was the least I could do after…” The poltergeist. He trailed off and looked around the place, remembering the state it had been in the last time the two of them were there and shuddered a little. “Good to hear. Also glad to hear you’re keeping others safe, too. You have that under control, right?” It was also good to hear she sounded reasonably responsible with her transformations, even if she was newer to them. “I’d worried about him feeling abandoned with you gone so soon after adopting him but he seems plenty attached. It should be fine.” He pulled out his keys and motioned for her to step away from the door a moment so he could open the door just enough to get through. “Did you bring your own collar and leash?” he asked as he pulled out a slip lead and slowly placed it around the dog’s head.
She hadn’t expected that kindness from Kaden, but she had appreciated it, “Thank you. That actually means more than you know.” She listened to him trail off. Layla didn’t want to remember that night just as much as he had. And in fact, she was almost waiting for something to happen. Being there had kept her on edge, but knowing that Indy would be coming home with her made things easier, “Yeah, Ari’s sister…” She looked down. “I know where to go and how to chain myself up. And I’ll bring someone along with me that I trust.” Lies. She didn’t know anyone, besides Frankie, and she wasn’t exposing her girlfriend to that. “Trust me, I’ll want nothing more than to snuggle with the little guy when I get home.” She did as he requested. As she watched Kaden slip inside, her heart started racing with excitement. The one thing she hadn’t got to do was hold Indy. A collar and leash? Shit. “Uh, I didn’t know I was supposed to...My parents...they had hunting dogs, but they were bought from breeders, so…” She had hoped this wouldn’t discourage the chance at taking the puppy home with her.
“I said I would,” he said just as simply as before. Kaden may not have been a fan of fae type promise bounds but going back on his word wasn’t something he was fond of. His brow furrowed at the mention of Ari. “Her… You mean Celeste?” It shouldn’t have surprised him that the hunter would find another stray werewolf, especially the child of hunter parents with a story so closely linked to her own. She really thought she could save them all, huh? He shook his head and bit back the threat of emotions. “As long as you have it handled.” With Indy on the leash, he opened the door back up and walked out, the dog trotting right over to her and standing on his back legs, front paws climbing up her legs to get closer to her. “It’s fine, they have some up front. You just have to pay for them.” And if she didn’t have the twenty bucks, he had a feeling he might cover it at this point. Which surely made him an idiot, going out of his way to help a werewolf. That dog looked so happy to see her, though. It tugged on his stupid heartstrings. “My mother only tolerated hunting dogs. When our friends had them. I wasn’t allowed to have any pets. I got Abel to be a hunting dog. He’s a bit of a dud on that front.”
Layla had appreciated him keeping his word. However, when he mentioned Celeste’s name, she could only nod quietly. She still couldn’t wrap her head around things. Couldn’t even begin to imagine what Ari was going through. “I do.” It’s all she said on the matter of chaining herself up, and her mind easily shifted when she saw Indy come over begging for her to pick him up. A smile spreading across her face, she leaned down and picked up the small puppy. Bringing him up to her face, she was showered in kisses, which made her laugh. “I hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, little guy?” She returned the kisses, before lowering and cradling him in her arms. Kaden’s story had sounded similar to her’s. No matter how much she wanted a pet, her parents only allowed dogs that were strictly trained to attack and maim, “Same. Our dogs weren’t friendly. They had one job to do, and one job only.” She raised a hand up to show Kaden a scar from when she was a child, “It was my job to feed them, when I got old enough.”
“She was a good friend.” Kaden wasn’t sure what else to say. Surely Layla and her had bonded over their parents and the shitty situation they were in. He wanted to ask if she’d helped Layla. Or had offered to. But it sounded like she had it covered. He also wasn't sure how much he wanted to unload his feelings here and now. Or with her. Still, there was this tenuous connection he knew he shared with a werewolf by virtue of having both grown up with hunter parents. It was hard to wrap his head around. It was also hard for him to be fully comfortable with a werewolf owning a dog this close to the full moon. But if he turned a blind eye to what she was, pretended he could make an exception, maybe it would be okay. She was more prepared than most turned wolves anyway. It’d be fine. “Sounds about right. God forbid you keep anything that doesn’t serve a fucking purpose. At least so long as it serves no purpose for hunting.” Kaden hadn’t felt much resentment towards his parents in the past, not like this. He always understood where they came from, even if it was tough and hard and a little unforgiving at times. That was just the life they led. It was getting harder and harder to justify. Fucking hated that.
“She was.” She had tried to give herself time to mourn and grieve Celeste, but so much had been going on, and now, she was going to have this little guy to keep her company. The way he was licking her on the arm tickled and it made her smile. A smile she couldn’t let go of now that she was holding onto something that loved her so unconditionally and couldn’t judge her for the things she’d done. His words brought her back to the moment, “Right? Everything had to serve a purpose. That’s why my mother started me in archery so soon and in self-defense lessons. She wanted to make the perfect killing machine.” She looked back down to the small puppy and spoke in a higher pitched voice, “But it didn’t happen. No, it didn’t.” At least not in the way her parents had wanted. Layla looked back up at Kaden, “Kinda funny you ended up in Animal Control though. I mean, in the sense that you get to be around puppies and kittens all the time now that serve purposes in different ways. Kinder ways.”
“Did she help you?” Fuck. Kaden wished he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to have to think about Celeste right now, not in public. Or care anymore about Layla. Or share anything more with her. He just wanted to do his job and give this dog a home and move on. “I mean I always liked animals. I just wasn’t really allowed to waste my time with them when there were monsters to learn about. As my parents put it.” His mother never let him get the Images Doc’s, French kid’s educational magazines, with the animals on the cover when he saw them in the grocery store. He constantly stole them from the stores, libraries and other kids, anywhere he could get his hands on them. He was shocked how rarely he got in trouble for doing it. Usually just got a look of pity from the adults in question, ire from his mother when she caught him. The flames still flickered in his mind when he remembered what happened when she found his stack one time. He pushed the thought away and led her and Indy to the front. “I’ve got the fee, Sarah,” he said to the woman at the front desk. “And going to need a collar and leash.”
Layla hadn’t expected to hear his question, and it had somewhat caught her off guard, but she answered anyways, “Um, yeah. She did. She was the one that stitched me up after, uh...after the stuff that happened here.” She didn’t want to further divulge anything, but she could tell in his voice that he was hurting too, “She was a good person, Kaden.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at Indy, before letting the animal take her worries away once more, “Sounds about right, except I was kinda rebellious in certain ways. But they always made sure I paid for it.” Her smile faltered thinking about some of the things her parents had done to her, but she was relieved when Kaden took the lead and invited them to the front of the building. Following behind, she was surprised to hear he was offering to pay the fees for her, “Hey, thanks. I know I’m not your favorite person, but I’ll never let anything happen to him, okay?” She pulled Indy up for a kiss on his little, white and tanned head, “And we can talk anytime you want. I am a pretty good listener.” She walked to the counter to finish up what she needed to in order to take Indy home.
“I know.” There was no denying Celeste was better than he was, he knew as much. Kaden nodded and tried to ignore the worry that threatened to push its way through. If Celeste usually helped Layla, who would do it now? No, that wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem. Sure, she was just a teenager and the daughter of hunters, but she was still a werewolf at the end of the day. He had to temper his empathy. Just in case he had to make a decision down the line. Not that she made that easy. “I know that, too.” This wasn’t for her, it was for the dog. Obviously. That dog had found his person and he was obligated to make sure he got to go home with her. That was all he was doing. Nothing more. Plus she didn’t deserve the shit his mother put her through. She might be a monster but that still wasn’t right. Or something. “Don’t mention it. Just take care of him. I’m sure you will.” Kaden nodded and walked away, leaving the staff there to take care of the rest. He had to get back to doing his job, anyway. Hopefully he never had to run into her during his night shifts. He had a feeling it wouldn’t end this well.
#wickedswriting#writing#chatzy#layla#laylacooke#Raiders of the Lost Arf#i was gonna do a srs title#but then casey happened
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
forgotten birthdays and puppies
Everyone in the compound forgets it’s your birthday, so you get a puppy. But bucky is determined to do the most.
some angst and v fluffyyyyy pls request something !!
————-
You woke up disoriented, forgetting what day it was for a second. Last nights mission was a whole mess, but so was every other one honestly. You checked your phone from next to your pillow, a few texts from friends back home texting at 2 am long paragraphs and some from 30 minutes ago.
Silently smiling and replying something sweet to each of your friends you slipped out of your bed and headed out from your room. Your hair was messy from sleeping with it loose and somewhat wet, in an oversized shirt and some shorts. You felt a bubble of excitement grow in your belly as you saw your hero friends, expecting them to burst out yelling happy birthday. But to your disappointment nothing happened, they were all chatting not even aware of your presence.
‘It’s okay they’re just tired from last night’ you comforted yourself holding back the lump you felt growing. You smiled to yourself and made your way to the kitchen, sliding with your fuzzy socks across the hard wood floor.
“You’re gonna get hurt one day y’know” the groggy voice spoke from behind you, startled you slipped and almost fell, luckily you caught yourself on the table near you.
“Good thing I’m young and a slip won’t break my back huh Barnes” you quipped back smiling at him. His blue eyes somehow sparkling despite the fatigue ever-present on his face, hair messy but silky in a small bun you called it the raddish because it was so tiny.
As you made breakfast not one person wished you happy birthday, not even bucky. Not that he had to, i mean you weren’t dating so whatever right? I mean sure we flirt here and there, and everywhere, but still, not dating. Yet. You were so caught up you didn’t notice Wanda talking to you about some guy she met that she claimed was ‘maybe the one’ which she had said about the last three. You nodded and said “no way” here and there. The conversation ended, and no ‘happy birthday!’ she was your best friend you know you had told her it was your birthday today.
You put your plate in the sink and went back to your room, the lump in your throat making its way closer to its escape. No way, you weren’t crying on your birthday. You got changed and headed out, you were gonna be happy and make this memorable. You walked out of the compound with confidence, but once you stepped out into the busy streets, your confidence blew away with the winds of New York and you shyly walking towards who knows what.
After a good hour of walking around and buying a few small things to decorate your room with or to just mess with you cane across an animal shelter. “Don’t do it, no you can’t” you scolded yourself as your feet made its way inside the shelter, pushing open the double doors. The smell hit your nose and you smiled, embracing it instead of scrunching up your nose. An expected mixture of dog, cat, and cleaning product.
“Hello! How can I help you today” the guy at the front desk asked you, a charming smile sent your way. “Uhm, do you have any dogs? Well, of course you do but can i see some?” You said face palming mentally, way to go Y/N.
“Of course! Right this way” he smiled and led you to the dog section of the shelter. “Feel free to look around, if you wanna play with one of these guys let me know” he smiled and went back to sitting down. “I’m Dorian by the way” he said before leaving the hall.
Slowly you walked by each kennel, giving every dog your utmost attention. Baby talking to each of them. It is your birthday isn’t it? You tapped your foot debating if you should get one of these babies and deal with tony later. Fuck it. You smiled and went up to the front, “uh Dorian? can i adopt one of the dogs?” You asked shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Of course! Who’s the lucky guy that gets to go home with a beautiful girl like you?” He smiled at you.
There was a dog that had caught your eye, he was brown and had a black snout and ears and a tail to match. “the little guy with the black nose and tail” you beamed at him, “he’s gonna get big ya know that right? He’s a mix of a lot of things” he informed you. “You think i can’t handle him?” You teased as he became flustered. “I- I didn’t mean it like that-“ you laughed “I’m kidding man.” He smiled at you and proceeded to lead you to your soon to be sons kennel.
“Usually people have to wait a few days for the dog to be ready but this puppy is all ready surprisingly.” Dorian apple as he came back with your new puppy. “okay yeah that’s amazing.” You spoke bouncing on your heels making grabby hands to your new puppy. “What are you gonna name him?” He asked as you filled out the paper work. You thought about it for a while. “Ace. He’s the only puppy in his litter with his markings, one of a kind.” You said setting down the pen and looking at the puppy in your arm, almost smiling up at you.
As you walked into the local pet store and bought the necessary supplies you called an Uber and headed to the compound. You were gonna get killed by tony. You were too excited to care though, this little furball in your hands made this birthday into a much better thing.
As you entered the compound and snuck to your room you set the supplies down, quickly puppy proofing your room. “Okay here’s the deal, it’s my birthday, I’m not supposed to have you, but in my defense no one told me happy birthday.” You said firmly to Ace as he cocked his head to the side and then continued smiling at you. A knock at your door startled you, and Ace too as he barked.
“Y/N? Is that you?” Oh no, Tony. “Uh yeah sorry i was, practicing my barks. Gotta throw people of their rhythm you know?” You cringed as the words left your mouth. Running to open the door before he could open it all the way. “What’s up?” You asked your body covering the bed where ace laid, or so you thought.
“I just thought you wanted to join the team for movie night? I think Thor is picking the movie....” he trailed off eyes wandering down to your feet. You felt your soul leave your body. “Is that, is that a puppy?” Tony said every word becoming louder. You quickly picked up your companion and rushed you into the living room, “i can explain i swear” you said sweating already fearing having to give up this canine you claimed as your son.
“I told you NO DOGS, you’re too smart to make an idiotic mistake like this Y/N.” Tony said visibly angry shouting, causing the team to surround you two. “How do you expect me to live here isolated from everyone? You know i love dogs and you take that from me too?” You yelled right back, small barks erupting from ace as you shouted.
“I don’t get why you’re so impulsive maybe if it was your birthday this would be acceptable but it’s not!” He scolded you, and that’s when the lump in your throat bursted out. Voice cracking and tears flowing “it is my birthday you prick” you furrowed your eyebrows and everyone around you get shocked and disappointed in themselves for forgetting.
After spending a few hours setting up aces things in your room and crying for half of it. You hear a gentle knock on your door. You get up, careful to not wake ace, and you look to see who it is. Bucky Barnes. The one man you had fallen in love with but no one seemed to notice. Not even him. Your clock read 2:46 a.m. and you slowly opened the door as he stood there with guilt on his face. “I’m sorry i forgot, i didn’t know and i know it’s technically over but can i try and make it up?” He said making eye contact a few times and fiddling with his fingers. You smiled, your heart melting, how could you say no? As you walked down the shirt hall you saw some candles light their way to the table which had your favorite cupcake with a single candle in the middle, a small bag next to it and a note.
“Buck you didn’t have to do this” you said tears welling in your eyes as you started in awe. “Just read please” he said in a shaky voice.
hi y/n,
I know everyone forgot about today, but i promise i didn’t mean to. You mean so much to me, more than you can imagine. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on doll, you always make me stutter and somehow i turn into a blushy mess. Everyday you look so beautiful and you take my breath away. You don’t realize how much you mean to this team and to everyone around it. I realized it when we all went stargazing and they were all messing around but you kept everyone together, and as a team we admired the stars as you named each constellation and gave facts about them. I realized when you solved so many things with your common sense that none of us apparently have. I realized when you cried over killing a plant because you gave it too much water, or how you broke the TV because tony would change the SPCA commercial and then you stole his debit card and donated $20,000 dollars as a “reparation for emotional damage.” I didn’t just realize this. I realized i was in love with you. All the things you do, from how you type on your phone to how you focus on your work and you’re so gentle with the things you love and you can be so forward with someone. I’m in love with you, and i hope i can spend your birthday with you. Because on this day that you were born, the birds sung, stars shone and flowers bloomed. - bucky barnes
You teared up. “Bucky you really mean all that?” You felt the hot tears flow down your cheeks. Smiling and snuggling up at him. “Every damn word doll.” He smiled. You hugged him and you stayed there for a while, your head on his chest arms around his torso as he kissed the top of your head, arms wrapped around you. “Open the bag sweetheart” he said as he pulled away reluctantly. You smiled and opened the bag. Inside was a box. You opened it and inside was a ring you had been talking about for months.
“No way- you didn’t, tell me you did not James Barnes” you spoke in disbelief as the ring shined even in the dim candle lit space. Bucky smiled at you proud of himself as you jumped around with the ring. “I know you said you wanted it really badly and that when you got it you knew that ‘you had made it’ and let me tell you, you definaltly made it, saving the world and helping everyone.” He smiled as you slipped the ring on admiring it once more. You beamed up at him, practically glowing. Even with your slightly puffy eyes, and your hoodie and shorts you looked gorgeous to Bucky.
“How do i even repay you?” You asked hugging him once more. He smiled at you “it’s your birthday, nothing to repay.” You wanted to just marry this man on the spot. ‘Just ask me out already I’m in love with you’ you sighed as you blew out the small candle on the cupcake. “Maybe i will” Bucky smirked as your blood rushes from your face, “did i say that out loud” you closed your eyes hoping you didn’t say that out loud. “You did doll” he said leaning closer to you, you could feel the heat radiating off his body. He ticked a strand of hair behind your ear as he slowly leaned down and your lips connected. Fireworks was an understatement, it was magical, as cheesy as it is you felt like you were floating. That was until you heard something barking ‘ferociously’ at bucky. You both pulled away to see ace standing between you two, barking at Bucky standing protectively on you your feet.
You both laughed as Ace calmed down when you picked him up, “he’s a good guy buddy, we love Bucky in this house” you smiled as the puppy relaxed and licked Buckys face. “I think he likes me now” he smiled petting the dog gently. “We have good taste” you winked at bucky as a small blush reached his cheeks.
After splitting the cupcake and watching the sunrise together with ace, you yawned and were about to go to your bed when bucky grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his body, kissing you. His hands cupped your cheeks and your hands tangled into his hair. You stopped when you ran out of breath, smiling at each other you stepped away and patted your thigh “cmon buddy” you said to Ace as he followed you back to your room. Your face was hot and you couldn’t stop smiling.
“Y/N!” Bucky called out, you turned around to face him. “Will you be my girl?” He asked shyly.
you smiled and nodded “of course i will James.” I guess some bad birthdays have an amazing ending. You walked with ace as you smiled and he wagged his tail.
497 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marichat May - Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes
Day Four: Birthday
[ A03 ]
Adrien flicked through the photo’s on his phone, Marinette had been able to keep the box full of kittens, how she managed that she didn’t say, no amount of asking had been able to loosen her lips. The kittens were just old enough to survive without their mother, he had gone back to the trash-filled alleyway several times to try and find the mother cat but he had no such luck, he truly believed that they were dumped there and it broke his fragile heart. So with him not being able to find the mother cat and he already knew that he couldn’t take care of the kittens with his father’s strict… ness… (there was no way they were going to fly under the radar. Marinette had adopted them and now he awoke each morning to early morning texts from her with pictures attached of the kittens.
He looked up to see a newly hired maid enter the room with his lunch, he smiled at her and she nervously placed the tray in front of him on the large mahogany table. She removed the silver cloche off of the top of the plate and left leaving him with a really depressing looking salad, somedays he wished for the taste of something fatty like that of deep fried fries and a pepperoni pizza. He slowly picked up his fork and got stuck into eating his sad lunch.
He stared over at the manila he had brought down with him. It was full of all of the necessary research he needed to memorise by the end of the week, he stood up and peaked his head around the doors to find Natalie in her seat, he returned to his own seat and opened the folder and started reviewing the files within. His eyes traced the corridors on the small map in his hands trying his best to try and commit it to memory, the map had been a gift from Marinette to say sorry for not allowing him to see the kittens straight after she had brought them home but he had seen them recently.
He had passed her small top floor apartment by accident on his way to some ‘business’ appointment and recognised the building, he paused on one of her window sills and looked into the apartment, the kittens had been locked in a medium sized dog cage that had been completely padded down to high heaven with blankets, he had laughed at the sight of the tiny terrors in such a highly padded area. He sadly waved goodbye to them and headed on his way. Adrien shook his head he needed to focus, he ran his fingers across the page, the gala was less than a week away and he had yet to locate the necklace.
Marinette had unfortunately not found out who had been cast in the main role, he was a little disappointed but had taken the time to look into everyone who had auditioned for the role, Marinette had been kind enough to steal the list for him. He smirked at the thought of Marinette sneaking around in the corridor and making sure that no one was around before pulling the pin holding the paper to the pinboard then sneaking back into the shadows.
Marinette… He started to see holes in her stories, they were easy to ignore at first but then, then they weren’t. He wanted to believe her he really did but because of his line of work, he had to look into her so he became very well acquainted with every aspect of her life. And one of the side-effects of this was stalking her social media accounts, he learned all of her friend's names and he was very interested in her best friend, she was an investigative reporter and that was dangerous, very dangerous, he really needed to keep his distance.
The sound of heels echoing off the walls sharply pulled him from his concerned thoughts, he quickly packed away everything in its folder and placed it on his lap just in time for Natalie to walk into the dining room, he smiled his trying to act like he was happy to see her, his eyes fell upon the tray in her hands, his curiosity was peaked. She placed it in front of him, the silver cloche on top of it hid its contents from view, he pushed the last bite of the band salad into his mouth and shuffled the plate behind the tray.
“Your father has asked me to wish you a happy birthday Adrien on his behalf,” her voice was her usual cold business voice as she removed the cloche revealing a small cupcake and a familiar box.
He frowned, ‘birthday?’ His birthday was still days away. He went to ask Natalie for clarification but she had already left, her heels clicked louder on the marble floors the further she walked away. Confused he pulled his phone from his pocket to check the date, his eyes widened as he was proven wrong, he was so caught up with planning the perfect heist that he had lost track of the date. He laughed slightly to himself, he had never lost track of the date before. Removing the folder from his lap he pulled the map back out and started to refocus on it to continue his planning, he picked up the cupcake and stuck it in his mouth, it tasted like a cheap supermarket bought one but it got rid of the taste of ice burg lettuce. The Gala… wait… the gala was less than a week away… and he was pretty sure the date was his birthday. He picked up the box containing the same pen he got every year along with his folder and rushed up the steps to his oversized room. Tossing the folder onto his queen bed he tore open his desk drawer and ruffled around in it pulling out stray pieces of paper just to find the one he was looking for. Finally, he felt the cardstock of the invite, he carefully reread it until his eyes fell upon the date and a sigh erupted from him, he had gotten the month wrong he still had time to find the safe.
Adrien fell back onto his bed, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to see Marinette washed over him but he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries and he was supposed to be distancing himself from her. She was realistically his only friend. Chloe was… a friend he had grown distant within the past two years, his ‘work’ always got in the way of their hangout times and she was spending a lot more time at the studio because of it.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his text messages the little line to start typing flashed on screen, he really wanted to text her but what, he drafted a message and subsequently deleted it for another draft that also ended up being deleted. He stared at the blank screen as he struggled to express himself through words to her, eventually he tossed his phone aside giving up on trying to message her. He stretched his arm out across his bed and stared up at the white ceiling waiting for something to happen, he felt alone in that moment, the silence ate away at his head, he groaned and sat up he needed to keep his mind busy so he went back to planning.
He looked through the very long list of rooms he had yet to search, it was a daunting task, over four hundred rooms and unless he found any more information to narrow down the list, they all needed to search. Maybe he could try and talk to one of the guards at the opera house, if he remembered correctly, liked to hang around some extremely exclusive wine tasting venues but sadly he could never get in, fortunately being a rich fashion designers son and former model had its pro’s at times, maybe it was this.
Adrien often wondered what he was doing this all for, Master Fu had been very kind to him over the years, it started when he tried going to a public school for the fifth and final time, he gave up that chance and all the planning that he had put into sneaking out of the house just to help the old man up and Master Fu had felt sorry and had given him Plagg. After a year of having Plagg he was finally drafted into the stealing side of Master Fu’s business, he was given a small set of rings to steal from some safes here and there, mainly to test his skills and after he had succeeded in stealing them all without being caught and without the assistance of the suit, Master Fu tasked him with stealing The Dove Miraculous from a wealthy man in America that just so happened to be coming to Paris on a business trip.
Adrien planned that heist meticulously down to the very last detail, he really didn’t want to be seen or caught. He practised breaking in and out of safes for an entire month before he struck and nobody noticed it was gone until the mans’ last night in Paris and by that time he was long gone and planning his next target.
But what happened to the magical jewellery afterwards he could not say, he just continued his new employment because the thrill was worth the risk.
His phone buzzed beside him and as he continued to question his life choices lifted the phone to see the notification, a new message from Marinette stared back at him, he clicked on it and a photo of the very happy kittens greeted him, smiling he typed back his response, temptation ate through him and before he knew it he had sent her a text if he could come over and see her, her not the kittens, he had meant to delete that text and rephrase it. He anxiously tapped his foot waiting to be turned down and not for their… friendship? whatever they were not to be ended but… he shot up, he hadn’t been expecting… well, that…
“Kid? Are you… Okay?”
The Kwami was suddenly hovering over his shoulder and let out a scoff.
“Kid I thought she had figured you out and not well… sent you her address.”
He shot up, ignoring his Kwami’s words, he was already reaching for a jacket and heading towards his window, his mind was several streets away in Marinette’s small living room telling jokes that made her laugh out loud, a goofy grin was plastered across his face. Plagg tried protesting, telling him that he should keep his distance from her but his daydreams blocked him out, he said his transformation phrase and soon his feet were carrying him across the tiled rooftops.
He racked his knuckles against one of the windows to her Apartment trying to contain his nerves. She looked a little confused to him at the window and not the front door, she hugged her shoulders at tried to pull the window up to open it, she struggled as the window had become jammed since the last time she had opened it. Slowly she managed to open it an inch and with his help, they pushed the window open.
“You could have used the front door,” she grumbled as she clenched and unclenched her fingers to try and get some sort of feeling back into them.
“Sorry, I- I didn’t think it’d be a good idea if I was seen,” he explained.
“Its- never mind, just taking my anger out at you, sorry.”
He smiled at her, “it's okay, I get it,” his eyes scanned the small living room looking for the small trouble makers, “so… Where are they?”
She giggled and pointed over to a small corner of her living room, he frowned at her but walked over in that direction, the basket they were in had been obstructed by the back of her grey sofa. He almost ran towards them, they had grown quite a lot since the last time he saw them, he had expected them to grow but not this much. He sat cross-legged on the floor and scooped up two kittens into his arms leaving two grey ones left in the fabric basket.
“Chat?”
“Hmm?”
The calico kitten he had picked up clawed its way into the crook of his neck.
“Are you okay? your message it-“
“I’m okay Marinette,” he assured her, “today was just one of those days I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Why?”
He shrugged his shoulders at her, “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“Okay then…” she didn’t sound like she believed him, “I have to go to the dance studio into hours so we don’t have much time to do something… what do you want to do?”
“Not sure,” he stated as he pretended not to see all the small collection of gaming consoles and controllers on the tall bookcase beside him.
“Did you bring any off-“
He shook his head not wanting to remember the number of things he still needed to plan, there was so much left up to chance.
“Oh… Okay,” she sounded a little surprised that he hadn’t brought anything to do with the necklace. The sofa creaked behind him as she sat down on it, “Are you any good at Mecha Strike?”
He smirked, “You have no idea what you’re up against.”
“Really?” she teased, “I’m pretty sure you don’t know what you’re up against.”
“Someone as small as you… I’m pretty sure I’ll win.”
“You’re going down,” she threatened to pick up her controller and subsequently turned on the controller.
He smiled at finally having some competition. Gently he placed the grey and white kitten that had curled up in his arm back in the basket with its siblings, he then tried to remove the calico on his shoulder but it dug its delicate claws into him in protest and wouldn’t budge from its spot, he eventually gave up and left it to sleep.
He picked up the spare controller that Marinette had put on the coffee table for him and slowly backed his way up to her, he decided to go easy on her, it had been a while since he had played and when Marinette managed to defeat him round after round he thought it was just beginners luck but he quickly realised Marinette’s skill and his first assessment was wrong. He turned up his skill in an attempt to even the playing field but he was a lot more out of practice than he thought but she just up the ante to stay on top. Adrien had never found someone to match his skill before, he was really enjoying himself, it had been years since he had enjoyed video games.
The pause screen suddenly appeared in the middle of his button smashing, he spun around confused at why Marinette would pause the game.
“You’re quite good,” Marinette stated, “But I have to go,” she stood up and stretched.
“Right the dance studio,” he reached up and gave the kitten a scratch, “it been a while since I’ve had any decent competition,” he stated putting the controller on the coffee table in front of him.
“You should meet my papa, he’s even better than me.”
“Is that an invite I hear?” he was obviously joking.
She smiled and shook her head, “You should probably get going,” she looked down at her watch.
He nodded his head and reached back up to the kitten on his shoulder slowly pulling it off of him, it let out a soft mew in protest of being disturbed, it broke his heart to move the small kitten but he did and he placed it back in with its brothers and sisters.
“Thank you Marinette,” he told her standing in front of the open window, “you made my birthday a less boring one,” his hands met the window frame as he prepared to pull himself up through it.
Marinette’s hand shot out to hold his arm causing him to stop in his tracks.
He turned back to face her, “I’m fine Marinette,” he promised.
She gave his arm a final squeeze before letting it go, she opened her mouth to say something but something in her decide against it. He turned back to the window and lifted himself out through the small opening, he waved goodbye to her and headed home happy with his newfound friendship.
Made For @marichatmay
<—Previous Drabble Master List Next—>
#marichat may#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#miraculous#chat noir#marinette dupain cheng#Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes#SwanSongWrites#I keep drabbling on
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nubivagant 1/3
(adj.) wandering through or amongst the clouds; moving through air; from the Latin nubes (“cloud”) and vagant (“wandering”), c. 1656.
Summary: Based on the movie “A walk in the clouds” but on a sheep farm in the north of England, at Christmas. During the war, Betty ran away from her grandfather’s farm with a man. Now that he’s left her and she might be pregnant, Betty must go back and face the family she abandoned. When Colonel Mercier finds her crying at the train station, he offers to pose as her husband. Tags: Hurt/comfort! fake married! sharing a bed! huddling for warmth! and many more! Pairing: Jean-François Mercier x Betty Vates (Spies of Warsaw / A Passionate Woman) *You don’t need to have seen either show. Word count: 5500 Rating: Mature Warning: pregnancy scare
A/N: thank you to @invisiblerobotgirl for the little brainstorm and her enthusiasm. For @timepetalsprompts adoption drive
Ao3
December 22nd, 1945
Jean-François bowed his head against the wind and hiked his duffel bag higher up his shoulder. It contained all his possessions, four years in England crammed in khaki canvas.
The breeze kicked off his hat, he turned on his heels to catch it and collided with a young woman. Her suitcase fell open on the tarmac, and he dropped his bag and papers. “I’m so sorry, miss.”
They bent down at the same time and knocked their heads together. He caught her before she fell and she threw up on his jacket. The young woman visibly blanched, and her eyes widened in horror. “Oh, God, no, please, no.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she rubbed her handkerchief over the stain.
“Porridge?” he asked. She didn’t laugh, she cried harder, her hands shook. “I can clean it up. Don’t worry,” he reassured her.
“Oh, no, no, no, it can’t be.”
Her reaction seemed disproportionate given most of it had landed on the ground beside him, and he began to worry. He took her by the shoulders. “Miss Vates.” For the first time, she actually looked at him. Her doe eyes were puffy from crying, and he suspected it had begun before their collision. “I’m Jean-François Mercier, I worked with F-section.”
“I know... I didn’t think you knew me name.”
During the war, they’d worked for the same organisation but in different offices, she as a clerk for the Poland section, and he for the French section as an operations officer. He’d seen her several times, especially in the last two months-- following the end of the war, many employees had transferred to Wanborough Manor, in Surrey, to close and file everything away permanently. They had never exchanged more than a few work-related words.
“Are you all right?” She wiped her eyes with her gloved fingers and nodded. “Are you sure?” he insisted.
“Oh bugger, me suitcase.”
He helped her pick up her stuff and his. “Are you going home too?” he asked to make conversation as he pretended not to see her underwear. The mention of home brought on a new wave of tears that all her lip biting could not hold off.
A whistle announced the train for London. He was momentarily distracted, and she took that opportunity to escape his presence and questions. He watched her vanish into a great cloud of steam.
Everyone in the small Surrey train station were their coworkers, going home now that the organisation had closed for good with the end of the war. He hoped miss Vates had friends amongst them. Perhaps it’s parting from them that made her so sad.
On board the train, he made a beeline for the lavatory to clean the vomit off his jacket.
When he walked out through the coach for a place to sit, he saw miss Vates again. Two young men were talking to her. “Give us a smile, eh,” said the one beside her. She turned her face away from them, but they didn’t stop.
“Be a doll, two bonnie lads like us, we fought the Nazis, I reckon we deserve a little lovin’.” He put his arm around miss Vates’ shoulders. She leaned away, elbows pressed into her sides, shoulders tense.
“I’m not interested.”
“Had a girl like that, always used to say she weren’t interested. She never meant it, did she?” His friend agreed with a roguish laugh.
“Leave the lady alone,” Mercier ordered.
“Or what?” Both boys stood up, full of the bravado characteristic of their age. Mercier didn’t engage with them. He simply stared with an air of condescending tolerance, the kind of look he might give annoying insects he could squash with his fist.
“Hey, Frenchie, we freed your country, we did. You should be thankin’ us.”
“Yeah. We get first dib on the lassies.”
Mercier clenched his jaw, jutted out his chin and flexed his fingers. He stepped closer to them, and they stepped back, recognizing the anger of a superior officer. The train jerked, and the two boys lost balance. “Leave. Her. Alone,” Mercier repeated, walking over them.
They walked away to find seats in another carriage. Miss Vates nodded and offered a small smile, but nothing more. Whatever was troubling her, she didn’t want company, so Mercier sat a few seats behind.
He’d bought a book for the long journey back to France. A detective novel with a suggestive cover that should hold his interest all the way to Paris, and yet he zoned out every other paragraph. He kept crossing and uncrossing his legs, his palms were damp. Whenever his thoughts drifted to his home country, he felt a tightening in his chest, from anticipation or anxiety, he couldn’t tell. Restless, he got up to pace the central alley. Miss Vates looked up from her knitting, but averted her eyes as soon as he saw her.
*
White winter light streamed through the dirty arched glass ceiling of Victoria station, shining on the chaotic crowd of soldiers returning home and families travelling for the holidays. The chatter and laughter, the whistles and the metallic wail of trains made Betty dizzy. She hurried to catch a newly-vacated place on a bench. She took deep breaths to ward off another wave nausea. She closed her eyes and focused on the violin notes played by a busker, but his somber rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” brought fresh tears to her eyes.
Betty stared at the ticket in her hands: One-way, to Paris. Colonel Mercier must have dropped it when they ran into each other. She should find him and give it back to him, but she couldn’t help thinking it might be a sign. A sign that she shouldn’t go back to her family.
She imagined starting a new life in Paris, a small flat with a view of the Eiffel tower from her kitchen window, a cat on the windowsill, the scent of warm bread wafting up from the bakery below. She would choose a new name for herself, something optimistic like Daisy or Hope. Who would know after the war? They couldn’t possibly keep track of everyone. And she imagined a little girl, playing in the living room, making her dolls speak French and English.
But it wouldn’t be like that.
She would have the same problems in Paris as she had in London: no friends, no home, no job. And maybe a baby.
“Miss Vates.” Colonel Mercier stood before her. She noticed the stain on the tan tweed of his jacket before the steaming tea he was holding out for her.
“Thank you.” She warmed her gloved hands on the paper cup.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you look like you could use a “cuppa”— as you Brits say.” She smiled weakly and drank. “If you are sad about losing your ticket, I can fix that for you.”
“Were it that simple,” she sighed, looking at the ticket but not taking it. “I have yours too… Paris. Must be nice.”
He shrugged and sat down beside her. “Where is… Tebay?” he asked, reading the town’s name on her ticket.
“In county Cumbria, north of the Yorkshire Dales.” He nodded, but she could tell he didn’t know where any of those places were.
“And your family lives there?”
“Yeah. Me grandad, he has farm there, and the whole family on me mam’s side, we moved there during the war. Safer, you know…” She didn’t even know if they were still there. Her mother and sister might have gone back to Leeds, her aunts and cousins too. Her grandparents would be there for sure, unless, heaven forbid, something had happened to them.
“I hope seeing your family again, on Christmas no less, will make you smile,” Colonel Mercier said, obviously trying to cheer her up.
Betty curled her shoulders forward, her stomach rolled. She had no idea why he was being nice to her, or what he wanted from her, for that matter, but she didn’t want to burden him with her problems. “Yeah, sure… Go. You’ll miss your train. Thanks for the tea.”
He hesitated, brow furrowed in concern. “I apologize if I overstep my boundaries, miss Vates, but I cannot leave you like this… Do you need help?”
Betty had never told anyone the whole story, kept it bottled up inside her chest, putting on a smile at work when inside she wrestled with despair, alone with her dark thoughts and pain. For the first time, she really looked at Colonel Mercier, his eyes were a beautiful clear brown in the light, and she found genuine concern in them. Her barriers crumbled. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, but he’ll kill me.”
“Kill you? Who?” He was on high alert.
“Grandpa Marshall. Oh, God. I ran away and now I might be pregnant, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Through tears and sniffles, Betty told him a somewhat confusing summary of her situation.
In the September of ‘43, she’d found a man hiding in an abandoned shed on her grandfather’s farm. A Polish man named Alex Crazenovski— nicknamed Craze. “With a nickname like that you’d think I’d’ve stayed away.” Craze said he’d escaped from his country and was hiding from the Gestapo, he begged her to keep his secret. He was so charming, she never doubted his words.
All through Autumn, she visited him every day. She brought him food and clothes, anything he needed to be more comfortable. And they made love in the forest. It was the most exciting time of her life. It took her mind off her father’s death and her mother’s declining mental health, off the war and the bleak future.
But her grandfather found out. The food Betty had stolen to feed Craze was supposed to go to the government, all part of the obligatory war effort. He got in trouble with the agents of the Ministry of Agriculture for it. She would later find out Craze had also stolen from her grandfather. She begged her grandfather to give Craze a chance, but he refused and threatened to deliver him to the authorities.
“Craze asked me with to run away with him. Said he knew people in London. That he’d marry me.” She shook her head at her own foolishness. She was so besotted with him, and craved more than the life she had.
Craze never did make an honest woman out of her. He wanted to wait until the end of the war and marry her in Poland with all his family. “They will be your family too,” he’d say, implying she didn’t have one anymore.
“You haven’t spoken to your family since then?” Colonel Mercier asked, offering her his handkerchief.
“Not at first. I was too ashamed. I abandoned them, betrayed them. They needed me on the farm… The longer I waited, the more scared I was to see them again, you know. But last Christmas, I decided to be brave, and wrote them a letter…”
“And?”
“Nothing. I never received a reply. They had me address and everythin’, we didn’t move. They disowned me.”
Craze’s acquaintances in London gave Betty a job, doing all sorts of office work. Craze said he worked too, but he rarely brought money home. “I stopped asking questions, it upset him. I know that were stupid, and you must think I’m the most gullible girl in the world, but I swear when he talked to me, it all made sense. And he loved me. He did. I think. I’m pretty sure.”
They lived together for almost two years, in a small rented room, through bombings and war threats. Every time she was scared or sad or angry, he had a way of making her forget all about it. She simply couldn’t resist him.
“The war ended, and he said he was going back to Poland. That was in October. He said he had money there, that he’d come back with it, that we’d buy a house. Whilst he was gone, my boss sent me to Surrey. I sold what we had. I didn’t hear from Craze so I asked a Polish officer who knew him…” Betty let out a shaky breath. “The look in his eyes, the pity. He knew, they all knew, his friends, all along, that he had a wife.”
“In Poland?”
“In Norfolk! He left me, and he’d have left me wondering all me life what happened to him.”
“That’s awful.”
Around the same time, she started worrying she was pregnant. She missed two periods, but it had happened before. The nausea this morning, though, was another nail in the coffin.
The only friends she had in London were Polish, most of them had already left for their home country. And she didn’t want anything to do with those who had watched her be deceived without a word. Her only option was her family. Her grandfather was the kind of man who held grudges, and her mother had never made any secret she preferred her other daughter. Her sister would hate her for leaving her alone to take care of their mother. And Betty had to face them, with a baby out of wedlocks on top of it.
“I mucked up so bad.”
Colonel Mercier tentatively put an arm behind her shoulders, on the back of the bench, but she resisted crying on his shoulder. She tried to control her sobs, she was getting weird looks from people in the train station, and she’d already said too much.
“It’s his fault, not yours,” he said.
“No, I’m a stupid, gormless girl. Mam always said so.”
Colonel Mercier looked up at the ceiling, skewed his jaw, didn’t say anything. Betty didn’t disrupt his thoughts. After a long moment, he asked, “What if you were married?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “How d’you mean?”
He exposed his idea as he would a military strategy: he would accompany her to Tebay and introduce himself as her husband. That way it would seem like she had lived in London as an honest woman, and that she’d been right to trust him. He would spend the day with her family, and hopefully charm them and make them think he wasn’t the scoundrel they imagined. And the next morning, he would take off before dawn, leaving only a letter behind. “We can work out the details later. Your family will take pity on you and, the holiday season helping, welcome you back with open arms.”
“Why would you help me? Me, a ruined woman.”
“Would you believe me if I said it was the spirit of Christmas?”
“I’m not that stupid.”
“No, I didn’t think so. It seems to me you are a victim—” she frowned at the word— “and I cannot stand the thought of you being hurt even more. I hate that he took advantage of your kindness. I can’t blame you for following your heart.”
“I’m not that kind of girl, Colonel! Don’t think being nice to me will get you in me knickers. I’ve learned me lesson.”
He held up in hands. “I promise I will stay out of your knickers.”
She found no trace of dishonesty in his face, but then again, experience had thought her she was a bad judge of character.
He rummaged around his duffel bag and pulled out a tiny fabric pouch. “This should help.” He tipped it over and two golden bands fell in his palms.
“What are you doin’ carrying wedding rings around?”
“I was married. My wife passed away.”
“During the war?”
“No, before. Consumption.”
“I can’t wear that.” He fingered the rings, hesitating. Even his pragmatic spirit wavered in front of this meaningful memento. Betty’s wariness gave way to sympathy. “What about the one on your pinkie?” He took it off, and she studied the symbol stamped in gold. “What’s it for?”
“A ring of nobility.” He seemed almost uncomfortable admitting it, but it must be important to him if he still wore it.
“You’re nobility?”
“Just a lowly chevalier.”
A knight. How perfect. She was starting to think he really did just want to help her.
“Can you do that, though? Pretend to be me husband and lie to everyone?”
“It would not be my first time. Never in this kind of situation, but I have done some undercover work.”
“You a spy?”
“Not in England!” he reassured her quickly. “But as a military attaché I was part of several covert missions. I spied on the Germans when I was in Warsaw.”
She pursed her lips, inspected his appearance. Beside the hair colour and height and maybe something in the sharpness of his nose, he looked nothing like Craze— a good thing in her opinion— he was much leaner and the way he held himself betrayed his rank. He didn’t look like someone who could get his hands dirty. Her family only saw Craze once and that was two years ago, it might just work out. Most of all, she was desperate for a solution, and having someone by her side to face her family eased her fears.
“Okay. Be me pretend-husband.”
He slid his signet ring on her finger. She admired her hand for a moment, feeling oddly pleased.
“I barely know you, how are we ever going to look like we’re in love?” she asked.
“We have a whole train ride to figure that out, don’t we?”
*
Mercier climbed on board the red locomotive, still shocked by his own plan.
“Me name’s Elizabeth, by the way. Everyone calls me Betty. What’s your name?”
“Jean-François.”
“Jean-François,” she repeated carefully, looking at him for approval. “I’ll need to practice.”
As the train covered the first miles of a 285-mile northbound journey, they learned about each other, starting with the basics: age (26 and 37), family members (both had a sister, her father died at Dunkirk, and his own during the Great war), and favourite food (her grandmother’s lamb stew, and strawberry sorbet from Le Procope, Paris’ oldest café).
They compared war stories. Although they lived on different sides of London, they’d taken refuge in the same bomb shelters and visited the same public library near Baker street. They’d both seen the latest Humphrey Bogart movie. “We went on a date. I took you dancing afterwards,” Mercier suggested.
“I wore me red dress.”
He asked her to recount her time with Craze on her grandfather’s farm, specifically the part where they were found out. Her family knew he was Polish, but, thanks to his assignment in Warsaw, Mercier could pretend to have both nationalities. For the first time in ages, he remembered Anna Szarbek, Parisian by birth but living in Poland. A transient thought, he’d made peace with the fact that Max had successfully come between them.
Based on his work experience, he easily invented a plausible story as to how he’d ended up hiding in Yorkshire— a story in which he appeared to be a hero. “We can’t have you marry a coward,” he reasoned.
Betty shared her snack with him, her stomach too knotted for more than two bites of carrot scone.
The rest of their made-up life together was pretty much the same as what had really happened to her. Except, he had an honourable job and married her right away. They decided it was best if she waited to tell them about the pregnancy.
Together they wrote the letter he would leave behind. “Make it sound like…” Betty bit her thumb nail. “Like he loved me. Like I can be loved. I don’t want them to think it was just… physical.”
“Of course, maybe I— he thought his wife had died, in Poland, at the beginning of the war.”
“Okay, and found out she’d survived?”
“He loves you but has to go back to her,” Mercier added.
“Yeah, and you bring me back to me family, so I won’t be left alone.”
“Exactly.”
Night arrived early this time of year, and the dark pink hues of a winter sunset already filled the train car. Betty watched closely as he wrote, her chest pressed into his upper arm, her perfume wafted to his nose, something cheap and floral, too innocent for a heartbroken woman.
“Could you do that to someone?” she asked in a soft, distant voice. “If you discovered your wife was still alive.”
“I don’t know. She passed away eight years ago, and I have not loved another woman as much since.”
“I don’t know if that’s sad or beautiful.”
She tucked her chin in her shoulder, her eyelashes cast feathery shadows on her pale cheeks. And something about the nearness of her, about her own confession, made him admit, “it’s lonely.”
“D’you think, maybe, what we’re writing is what really happened?”
Mercier doubted Crazenovski’s behaviour was anything other than self-serving, he would most likely cheat again, but Betty needed to entertain some romantic notion of him, so he conceded it could be the case.
They spent the next hours in pensive silence. Mercier rehearsed his role, so to speak. Betty dozed off, but slept fretfully. She would seem peaceful for a while, but then her lips would pinch and her forehead pucker.
When they reached Lancaster, Betty talked to him again. “Every summer, I took this train to go to me Gramps’ farm. I always got so excited seeing these mountains, knowing I was almost there. He’d wait for me at the station and hug me tight, called me his lil’ chicken. And me grandma… I swear, I waited all year for this moment.”
“We have that in common.”
“How d’you mean?”
“My father sent me to boarding school, and I couldn’t wait to go back to our estate for the summer. Ride my horse, swim in the lake, run in the fields all day with my sister… I love living in the city now, but it was a nice respite.”
“Was?”
He inhaled sharply and spoke before releasing his breath. “It was destroyed during the war. Alsace shares a border with Germany, so…” He didn’t tell her the whole town was ran over by tanks and every villager sent to his death. He wasn’t ready to talk about it. Betty stroke his arm with a sympathetic smile.
As they stepped onto the train platform, in Tebay, Betty said, “I’m afraid we’ll have to walk to the farm”.
“Betty? Oh, my goodness, lil’ Betty Vates, as I live and breathe, it’s you!”
“Mrs. Jeffrey, hi! She’s Gramps’ neighbour,” Betty explained.
“You’re alive!” Mrs. Jeffrey cried out.
“I think so.”
“Your poor grandfather, he said you’d died in a bombing. Oh, it’s a Christmas miracle! Do you have a ride? Let me take you. Albert’s in the truck.” Mercier picked up their suitcases, and Mrs. Jeffrey noticed him for the first time. “And who’s this?”
“He’s… he’s me husband. Col— Jean-François Mercier.”
“Well done, Betty.” She winked.
They followed Mrs. Jeffrey outside the station.
The town square clock chimed five times. A half-moon made the frost sparkle in the dark. Wisps of chimney smoke wrapped around lamp posts and, for the first time since 1940, Christmas lights twinkled in windows, unhindered by blackout curtains.
They squeezed themselves in the back of the truck. “He’s telling people I’m dead,” Betty whispered to him. He took her hand, and she held it, a vice-like grip, the whole ride through.
They disembarked in front of a gate, a long path between ash trees stretched to a farmhouse, its whitewashed walls bright in the night. A dog, twice the size of Mercier’s pointers with its shaggy white and grey coat, ran up to them, barking. “Hercules!” Betty sat on her hunches as it sniffed around them, tail wagging, tongue dripping.
Like a good shepherd dog rounding up its herd, Hercules pushed Betty and Mercier towards the house. Its bark announced their presence, and an old man came out, holding up a hunting rifle. “Who’s there?”
“Hello Gramps.”
“Betty!” A small woman appeared behind the man and pushed past him to embrace Betty. “Where were you, girl? We were worried sick!”
“It’s a long story, Marnie.”
The old woman looked at Mercier. “Is this…?”
“Yes. We’re married,” Betty said.
“Oh, bloody hell,” muttered her grandfather before turning back inside the house.
“Oh, don’t mind the old grouch. I’m Mrs. Marshall, everyone calls me Marnie.”
“Betty has told me a lot about you, what a pleasure to meet you Marnie,” Mercier said, kissing the back of her knobbly hand. Betty smiled at him.
“Jolly nice to meet you, young man.” She pinched Betty’s cheek. “Didn’t he feed you properly?”
“No one has, what with rationing.”
“We managed here.”
“Oh, Marnie, I missed your food.”
“Good, tea’s almost ready.” The women hugged each other again, both tearing up.
Inside the old farmhouse, the air was heavy with the scent of fir tree and wet wool, from the socks and union suits drying in the scullery.
The whole family gathered in the living room. Betty’s grandparents, mother, sister and brother-in-law. They stood in a half-circle, their gaze flickered between the newcomers, on the couch, and the patriarch. Mr. Marshall was a stocky man, all strength, with sunburnt skin even in winter.
Mercier was dying to say something, but followed Betty’s lead.
Mr. Marshall finally broke the silence, “Married?!”
“I—”
“To this… this…” He shook a finger at Mercier, but with his straight back, sharp suit and perfect hair, he found nothing to say. “Who is this?”
“Colonel Jean-François Mercier.” He stood up, his hair brushed the ceiling beams. Mr. Marshall refused to shake the proffered hand.
“A bloody French? For God’s sake.”
Now that they’d heard his verdict, the other family members spoke all over the other, asking more questions than could possibly be answered. Marnie shushed them. “Tell us what happened, Betty.”
Betty took a deep breath and began telling the story they’d rehearsed in the train. “I sent you a letter,” she said, “but I never got a reply.”
“We didn’t receive any letter,” Margaret, her sister, said. The others all agreed vehemently.
“So, you’re not angry with me?” Betty asked.
“Yes, we are angry with you, Mrs. Mercier,” the grandfather replied. “Me own granddaughter, getting married to a stranger. What d’you have to go to London for?”
And the barrage of questions and judgements began anew.
Betty wasn’t the best liar, and nerves made her stutter, so Mercier took over telling the rest of the story they’d made up. “My deepest apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall, and Mrs. Vates, for the way I behaved back then. I was scared and in danger. But I truly love your daughter.” He placed a hand on her knee, and she startled lightly at the contact.
Mr. Marshall squinted at them, his bushy grey eyebrows brushing behind the lenses of his glasses. “Umpf.”
Supper was a tense affair. And he’d been in tense situations before. A conference with England and Russia in ‘39 came to mind. But this was a whole other kind of tension. He complimented the women on the meal, but only received curt thanks in return.
Betty barely touched her plate, her hands shook whenever she picked up her utensils. He admired her valiant efforts to encourage conversation despite the hostility in the air. Two years without seeing them, they had a lot of catching up to do. He flinched every time their answers came with passive-aggressive comments on Betty’s absence and all the hard work she hadn’t had to do. He made a point to chime in with flattering anecdotes about her. “Are you sure it’s our Betty you’re talking about?” her sister asked.
Because both he and Betty had signed the Official Secrets Act for their job, they couldn’t explain what they really did. Jean-François said he collaborated with de Gaulle which wasn’t far from the truth. Eric, the brother-in-law, who had only recently been demobed, scoffed. “You spent the war behind a desk, but I was shooting the Nazis meself, like a man.” He exposed shrapnel scars on his arm to prove his point.
Mercier clenched his jaw. This idea was proving more painful then he’d anticipated. He swallowed his pride and agreed with Eric, hopefully taking the heat off Betty. Mercier wasn’t the type to brag, but he had some go-to spying anecdotes to delight an audience when forced to, and they helped rectify his military credibility.
The Marshalls particularly enjoyed the one about smuggling out the entire Polish National bullion reserve before the Nazis could get their hands on it. “Forty cases of gold, ten ingots in each case, hidden under the floorboards and the seats. We’re heading for the Romanian border. Suddenly the train stops.”
“Why? What happened?” Betty asked, engrossed in his story.
“Don’t you know?” her sister said.
Mercier recovered smoothly. “I don’t think I ever told Betty that story. I couldn’t, not before the Polish got their gold back. State secret, you understand.”
“And what other secrets are you hiding from her and us?” Mr. Marshall said. He stood up from the table, moving his chair and picking up his dishes as loudly as he could.
“Never mind him, what happened next?” Eric asked.
By the end of the evening, some of the tension had dissipated. There attitude towards Betty-- except for Marnie-- was still far from warm. He wished she’d stand up for herself more, but she looked like she believed she deserved it all. It wasn’t his place to judge.
Marnie helped by bringing out a bottle of whiskey she’d hidden before the war, keeping it for a special occasion. “Me granddaughter’s wedding, that’s special enough, I reckon.” She put on a Bing Crosby record. “C’mon young ‘uns, time for a little jitterbuggin’.” She pulled on her husband’s arm until he gave up and stood up to dance with her. Margaret and Eric, paired up too.
Jean-François and Betty’s gazes met across the room. Well, it would seem strange if they didn’t dance. Their fingers entwined, his hand slid over her waist. Betty, who’d drank whiskey on an empty stomach, giggled nervously. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “Our first dance,” he joked. For the first time since this morning, she smiled, a real smile, wide and bright, and there was a flutter in his chest he hadn’t felt in ages. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, and, for a moment, they didn’t have to pretend.
At the end of the night, Marnie dumped bed sheets and blankets in Betty’s arms, “You can take the blue room.” Mercier walked with her to the attic, carrying an oil lamp as that part of the house didn’t have electricity yet.
The blue room, they realized, had only one bed, and not a big one at that.
“I will sleep on the floor. It’s only for one night.”
He turned his back so she could change into her nightgown. He stared at the faded blue hydrangeas on the wallpaper and at the image of the Virgin Mary above the bed. He heard Betty’s dress fall to the floor, the click of garter and bra being unhooked, the stockings brushing down her legs, and despite himself, he saw it all in his mind’s eye.
Jean-François folded his clothes beside the makeshift bed, ready to put on and sneak out as early as possible the next morning. He placed the letter on the bedside table. As he planned his exit, guilt flickered in his chest. Craze betrayed her, not you, he reminded himself.
Betty lowered the flame of the lamp, and both laid in silence. Through the floorboards, came the hushed argument between Marnie and her husband.
“Are you okay?” Mercier asked.
She sighed. “At least they didn’t kick me out. It’ll be fine, I think… Thank you again. I’m sorry they were so awful to you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” And then, softly, “Don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”
He wanted to reassure her, but could he? Did she even want to see him again? Before he could reply, the stairs creaked. “Someone’s comin’ up.” Mercier jumped to his feet, kicked his blankets under the bed and slipped under the covers next to Betty. She pulled his arm around her shoulders.
Good thing he moved fast, because the door opened right after the knock, without awaiting an answer. Mr. Marshall didn’t cross the threshold and kept his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat. “Alright?”
“Yeah, we’re fine Gramps, thanks.”
“Alright, good night, then.” He turned back as fast as he had come in, leaving the door ajar. “Don’t forget your prayers!” he shouted from the corridor.
“What was that about?” Mercier whispered.
“That was me grandma sending him. I bet she threatened to not serve her special mince pies on Christmas.”
Mercier became aware of their legs touching under the covers, of her rib cage, expanding with each breath, of her hair tickling his chin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a bed with a woman without making love to her. With his wife maybe. Melancholy pinched his heart, and he longed for that simple pleasure. She glanced shyly at him, biting her bottom lip.
“Do you think he might come back?” he asked Betty.
“Maybe… I’ll lock the door.”
“Okay. Then I suppose I should…”
“Yeah… ”
Another beat passed and they didn’t move. Their one and only night together, what if they were to make the most of it? He was confident he could make her feel better.
“Anyways.” She laughed nervously and left the bed to latch the door. She looked at him, still in her bed. “S’not too hard, is it? The floor,” she asked.
That was his cue to return to his makeshift bed. “No. Better than a Morrison shelter, at least.”
She turned off the lamp completely and mumbled a prayer. The old bed squeaked as she tossed and turned.
“Elizabeth? Will you be all right after I leave?”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
Part 2
#Mercier x Betty#teninch fic#spies of warsaw#Jean-François Mercier#a passionate woman#timepetalsprompts#lostinfic writes stuff#nubivagant fic
69 notes
·
View notes
Note
1-100!!! Sorry I had to be THAT person :)
Hahahaha no problem! LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME IGNORE EVERYONE ELSE NOW THOUGH.
Is a kiss considered cheating? Answered!
Have you ever faked orgasm? Answered!
If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Shapeshifting! It could solve literally all the problems I’ve ever had. LDR’s? Turn into a dragon or some shit and cover the distance. Guy breaking into your house? Grizzly bear time. Someone stole your pool noodle? DUH NUH TIME.
Do you think you are going to be rich in 7-8-9 years? With happiness, I hope.
Tell us some funny drunk story. Answered!
Why are you no longer together with your ex? Answered!
If you had to choose one way to die, what would it be? Most days I want it to be peacefully at an old age. Unfortunately, some days I want it to be of my own doing. I think that’s most people though.
What are your current goals? Answered!
Do you like someone? Answered!
Who was the last person to disappoint you? Myself.
Do you like your body? Same as # 70!
Can you keep a diet? Yeah, I just don’t need to. I’ve been regularly going to the gym 5 days a week pretty much the entirety of the past 4 years.
If the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say? Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you done with all the bullshit, the cruelty, the pettiness?
Do you work? I am currently a full time Tire and Battery Technician.
If you could choose only one food to eat to the rest of your life, what would it be? Anything bread.
Would you get a tattoo? Yep! I have one already and want a full blown sleeve.
Something you don’t mind spending all your money on? Plane tickets and fine dining!
Can you drive? Yep, both automatic and manual. I actually bought my car before I knew how to drive it.
When was the last time someone told you you were beautiful? Last night.
What was the last thing you cried for? We had to put down my cat of 14 years on monday.
Do you keep a journal? Does tumblr not count?
Is life fun? 90% of the time it’s a Goddamn blast.
Is farting in front of people irrelevant? Life’s too short, man.
What’s your dream car? 1968 Shelby Mustang.
Are grades in school important? Depends on the degree you’re seeking! I have a BFA so no.
Describe your crush. She’s me.
What was the last book/movie that really impressed you? I watched Get Out and it was phenomenal.
What was your last lie? Just one more gusher....
Dumbest lie you ever told? Telling myself I was straight for 23 years.
Is crying in front of people embarrassing? I feel embarrassed but its not. Feelings shouldn’t be embarrassing.
Something you did and you are proud of? Changing my life.
What’s your favourite cocktail? It’s not like a super cocktail or anything but I’ve always loved Southern Comfort and coke.
Something you are good at? Embarrassing myself and not giving a fuck while I do so.
Do you like small kids? Yeeeees, and I can’t wait till I have some.
How are you feeling right now? Tired as fuck.
What would you name your daughter/son? Amelia for a girl, undecided for a boy.
What do you need to be happy? A good view and a good partner in crime to share it with.
Is there some you want to punch in the face right now? So many people I would be jailed.
What was the last gift you received? My friend bought me a video game so I would play online with him... but my internet is so fucked up I can’t even download the updates for it.
What was the last gift you gave? The gift of a good time.
What was the last concert you went to? I was supposed to go to In This Moment, but wasn’t able to. So the last was Carrie Underwood.
Favourite place to shop at? Online, bitches.
Who inspires you? My parents and their resolve.
How old were you when you first got drunk? I’m a prude, it wasn’t until I was 19!
How old were you when you first got high? Answered!
How old were you when you first had sex? 24. I had plenty of opportunity, just no one I cared to do it with before then.
When was your first kiss? Romantically? I was 13.
Something you want to do until the end of this year? Get a new job and move.
Is there something in the past you wish you hadn’t done? I have many regrets and moments I would like to take back, but I’ve decided long ago that I would stop letting the past effect my future.
Post a selfie. Oh my god I look like trash. I’ll post one later, or post an old one.
Who are you most comfortable around? My friend Kyle.
Name one thing that terrifies you. I struggle with the idea of falling from a considerable height.
What kind of books do you read? I don’t have a specific genre that I usually stick to, but I do like dystopians or westerns.
What would you tell your 12 year old self? Don’t follow the crowd, and don’t give a fuck what people think. You’ll be someone they wish they were when you’re older. And for the love of god, don’t give into your thoughts. You’ve got to see what you become.
What is your favourite flower? Orchid.
Any bad habits you have? I have a hardcore caffeine addiction that I need to kick bad.
What kind of people are you attracted to? People who are full of life and adventure.
What was the last thing you cried for? Answered I think?
Is there something you don’t eat? Some food that truly disgust you? I absolutely hate cilantro. Keep those bitter leaves away from me.
Are you in love? Answered!
Something you find romantic? Effort and chivalry.
How long was your longest relationship? 3 and a half years! Marriage was a real concept at the time too. It was a boy though.
What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex? We have a tendency to be cruel emotionally. Myself included.
What are 3 things that irritate you about the opposite sex? There are so many problems with masculinity don’t even get me started.
What are you saving money for? Moving and my first house!
How would you describe your bad side? Cruel and walled up.
Are you actually a good person? Why? I don’t think anyone can be a judge of them self in that regard.
What are you living for? The light at the end of the tunnel.
Have you ever done anything illegal? Okay we all have anon. You will not get me to incriminate myself. Lmao.
Do you like your body? Answered!
Have you ever made someone feel bad about themselves intentionally? Unfortunately I have, and I’m not proud and would’ve taken it back if I could.
Ever sent nudes? All the time. Only when they are wanted though. Never out of the blue.
Have you ever cheated on someone? Nope.
Favourite candy? GUSHERS.
Is there a blog you visit every day, or almost every day? Tag it! @babesboobsandbbqsauce, @tacos-guac-tequila, @beans4days and @thebootydiaries.
Do you play any computer games? What is your favourite game? Just console atm. When I get a better paying job I will be buying a gaming pc.
Favourite TV series? Legend of Korra and Avatar the last Airbender.
Are you religious? Does God exist? Yes and yes. I don’t care if you’re not though. And I find all other religions fascinating and like to learn about them.
What was the last book you read? Did it impress you and why? God, all I have time for anymore it seems is fanfiction :/.
What do you think about vegetarianism/veganism? It’s not my thing, I love meat far too much.
How long have you been on Tumblr? Answered!
Do you like Chineese food? Hell fucking yes. I eat it at least once a week.
McDonalds or Subway? McDonalds.
Vodka or whiskey? Whiskey.
Alcohol or drugs? Alcohol.
Ever been out of your province/state/country? Yep! I’ve been to multiple states and countries. My favorite country I’ve been to so far is Jamaica.
Meaning behind your blog name? It’s the nickname my family adopted for me because I was always the outdoors child, climbing trees and catching fish with my bare hands.
What are you scared of? Becoming complacent.
Last time you were insulted? Yesterday.
Most traumatic experience ? Answered!
Perfect date idea? Building a pillow fort out in the middle of no where and watching the eclipse!
Favourite app on your phone? Ifunny because I’m problematic.
What colour are the walls in your room? Blue with silver dusting.
Do you watch Youtube? Who is your favourite youtuber? Markiplier for sure.
Share your favourite quote. "Wherever I end up after this... in whatever reality... all those moments between us were real, and they'll always be ours." Chloe from Life is Strange.
What is the meaning of life? It is whatever you make it.
Do you like horror movies? YEP! AND HORROR GAMES.
Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened? Yeah, when I came out of the closet. It was because she hated how I had to keep that weight on my shoulders so quietly.
Do you feel lucky or special in a way? I should be dead, but I’m not. I’m very lucky I’m still here. Even if sometimes I wish I wasn’t.
Can you keep a secret? Yep.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Calm in the Storm
Damian had found drawing to be the most entertaining thing he did; especially since he was no longer required to draw what his tutors demanded of him. No, he was free to draw whatever he pleased; and art was truly the only class in his pathetic school which was worthy of his full attention.
This week’s assignment was to draw his family.
He’d proceeded to draw Goliath, Titus, Batcow, Alfred (the cat) immediately. He loved his animals like they were his family, and he’d destroy anyone who threatened his pets. He put aside the drawing of Goliath though, it wouldn’t do to blow his cover as Robin by turning that in. A quick pencil sketch of Titus sleeping with Alfred in a patch of sunlight in the Manor library was one to be turned in. And he drew Batcow grazing on the Manor lawn. All simple, easy sketches and he was satisfied with them.
Next, he moved to sketching Pennyworth, it was easy to corner the old man in the kitchen, and Damian spent an afternoon perfecting the sketch of Pennyworth baking. That evening he silently sat with his father in the study as his father worked on Wayne Enterprises and Damian sketched him. He was rather pleased with the results; his father was an excellent art subject to sketch and it had turned out well with the lighting of the study.
The next day he sketched Brown and Cain sparring before patrol; they were both in their civvies so it was rather easy to draw them. He liked the play of light and dark, and was careful not to smudge the charcoal as he worked. He showed it to his father before patrol and preened when his father praised him for his talent. Damian liked art, he loved it, he loved sketching, and painting, and more than that, he loved being good at it.
The following afternoon he sat in the school library working on a reluctant sketch of Drake. Drake was a part of the family according to Grayson, even if Damian and he did not get along. Still, the assignment was to draw the family, and Drake was his father’s adopted son and that made him family. Damian drew Drake asleep in the library because he liked the lighting in the library and knew it by heart; so he didn’t actually have to be there to draw Drake.
His next study was Grayson and Gordon, they were getting married in a month. He was pleased about the wedding, but he was also a bit uneasy with the wedding and what it could mean for him. However, Gordon would be family after the wedding, and she was already family, so he would include her in his sketches. It was an afternoon he knew they’d be at the park, when he ditched school and hid out in a tree to sketch Grayson and Gordon together. Grayson and Gordon were the couple who just oozed happiness, joy, and love, it was something he’d heard Jon say people wanted and envied. Damian just enjoyed being around them. It was kind of fun to sketch them, they were so… happy, it was a bit infectious as he sketched their smiles and enjoyed his afternoon out.
Mentally he ticked off the list of who his family was and was satisfied that he had everyone except his mother and grandfather, but after his death he wasn’t overly keen on adding them to his family sketches. And he could not add the Titans, that would reveal his identity as Robin, and aside from Raven and Stone, he was not close to any of the others on the team.
At least he thought he had all the family until Todd recklessly came crashing into a warehouse he’d been trapped in, guns firing, and people screaming as the chaos which was Jason Todd ensued. Honestly! Damian had come here on a case, he’d been a little underprepared for the manpower this smuggling operation had but he had had everything completely under control! Then Todd just came barreling in with a wild laugh and reckless actions; it was infuriating to him. People would think he couldn’t handle himself!
“I had everything completely under control!” he snapped as he helped Todd tie up the gunmen and smugglers.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your cape in a twist, I’m only here to meet up with a little bird, baby bird,” Todd dismissed as he walked down the docks.
“Since you’re here I suppose I have to draw you as well, Hood,” Damian growled a bit as he jogged with Todd.
“Huh?”
“Draw, it is an art assignment, I have to draw the family,” Damian explained.
“Nope, no need, we aren’t family, I’m here for a different bird,” Todd quickly said uncomfortably.
“I will pass this assignment, and you’re family! Father would be displeased if I did not draw you as well,” Damian hissed.
“I don’t give a shit what the old man wants or likes or what pleases him! No. I am not here for Bat family time!” Todd growled lowly.
“But I have to draw the family,” Damian persisted. He was still going to draw Todd, now that he was here, but truthfully Damian was not as familiar with Todd’s face and did not wish to mess it up. Failure was not an option.
“Nope, gotta go, see you later baby bird,” Todd shouted as he took an escape to the rooftops. Damian scowled a bit but he was not deterred. He would have a portrait of Todd for his assignment, he was not failing!
Damian spoke to Gordon about using her cameras to track down Todd; it wouldn’t be easy but he was too tired to try to do it himself tonight. Besides, he had to get up tomorrow for school, though he found the institution pointless and useless, his father, Grayson and Pennyworth refused to let him drop it entirely.
Also, he was surrounded by idiots at that institute, and it was poorly kept; even for a prestigious school it was poorly kept.
He made it through his literature class before he received a text from Gordon saying Todd was in New York City.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Jason had come stateside tracking a child smuggling ring, run out of Slovakia. He’d been systematically tearing it all down, which had had him moving all over Europe, but in his pursuit, he was now stateside, not a thrilling thought because he’d have to deal with Bats. However, a beautiful little bird he hadn’t seen in a long while went to school at NYU, and Jason was more than happy to spend time with that Titan, especially since it’d be Jason Todd and Rachel Roth hanging out and no one would be following her about.
The problems with being dead and dating a famed Titan… paparazzi. Raven handled it all with far more grace than he could, also she was ‘the boring Titan’ according to the paparazzi. To him she was anything but boring, however he was happy that his girlfriend did not attract all the media attention her fellow Titans did. Jason was pretty sure it was because of the media that secret identities were almost shot to hell; well, his barely concealed secret identity was almost destroyed already, but to hell with it, he was dead! DEAD! Oh all the freedom being dead brought him!
But also, they’d been smart about how they had set this up so they could have civilian lives. And aside from Victor, no one knew Raven’s secret identity, she’d been smart about never giving it to the Titans, or registering it with the League, so Rachel Roth was just Rachel Roth. A twenty something student at NYU who was trying to become a writer, and was getting a degree in literature. She made a quiet living as a freelance writer, and had a boyfriend who owned this apartment complex; legally too, (he even had one of his legitimate aliases on the lease agreement, Jason T. Peters), he’d even bought several other buildings around the city and maintained them well when he was here, other than that, everyone thought he was a traveling businessman. It was so mundane and boring that he knew no one ever look at Rachel Roth and see the powerful Titan Raven. It was brilliant.
Getting off the subway in Brooklyn he pulled out his cell as he dialed a number he had long since memorized as he walked towards their civilian apartment.
“Hello?” her husky voice answered and he grinned.
“Miss me little bird?”
“I saw all the destruction you brought with you to Gotham,” she said monotonously, but he heard the lilt of amusement in her tone.
“Might as well make an entrance,” he smirked as he walked through the crowd.
“So, I, and the entire east coast, can see,” she mused.
“Only Red’s wanted, Jason’s in the clear,” he pointed out. He knew full well that only the Assassins and Bats knew who he was under the hood. The FBI, CIA, DIA, NSA, Homeland, KGB, Mossad, Interpol, A.R.G.U.S., and a bunch of other agencies he couldn’t bother to remember, all still had no clue that Jason Todd was alive, and he was aiming to keep it that way.
“Are you coming over?” she hummed.
“Well, you’re the empath, you tell me,” he mused as he started pulling out the keys to the apartment building they were living in.
“I can only feel that you’re close, in the city everything is askew,” she huffed.
“Aw, poor princess, your senses over stimulated?” he asked.
“Not right now, the shields are up,” she countered. He shook his head at her missing what he was asking but decided in about five minutes he could live with it.
“Well, love, I’m here, so open the door?” he asked when he stopped at apartment 4C. The line went dead and he heard Raven scrambling behind the door, he slipped his phone in his pocket as he listened to the deadbolts he’d installed the last time he’d been here flip open before the door was open and his arms were full of Raven.
“I missed you!” she stated, he stumbled into their apartment, kicking the door shut as her magic filled the apartment, all the lights were brightening as a few things rattled.
“You just missed my waffles,” he teased as he spun her around so her back was pressed up against the door, deftly he locked it for her as his mouth landed on hers’ before she could counter his claim. Good Fucking God He’d Missed Her! She tasted of jasmine tea, shadows, and that dark flavor which was Raven, and he couldn’t get enough of it as his hand dove into her hair and he kept her secured around him. Pulling away he was gasping for air as he lightly kissed his way down her throat.
“Welcome home,” she whispered. He smiled against her skin because he felt like he was home as he pulled her away from the door and carried her straight to the bedroom.
It was a few hours later he was in sweats and in the kitchen as he cooked up a lunch for him and Raven and she was working on homework.
“I’m thinking about renovating the bathroom,” he said suddenly.
“You said the kitchen was the last renovation,” she protested as she looked up at him from where she was working on the island.
“I know, but I really hate that bathroom,” he admitted.
“You cannot go about tearing up this entire apartment just because you don’t like the bathroom,” she stated flatly.
“Come on Rae,” he pleaded as he continued to work on their lunches.
“It took four months to do the kitchen,” she sighed.
“It won’t be that long this time, I’m staying quiet for a few weeks, letting the heat in Gotham die down before I move,” he promised.
“Fine, if you do this it has to be done before you leave, I’m not living without a bathroom,” she warned coldly.
“You’re going to love it, little bird,” he promised as he served up lunch and walked around the island to kiss her brow and see what she was reading.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Damian stood outside of an apartment complex and frowned as he looked over the tenant names on the buzzers. There was no obvious alias of Todd’s here, which was a bit vexing because he’d memorized the known aliases his father had listed for Todd. Pulling out his phone he dialed Gordon’s number. He was not failing this assignment and he couldn’t break into this apartment in broad daylight; father would be furious and Damian did not particularly want to go to juvie.
“Hello?”
“Are you certain Todd went in this building?” Damian barked out.
“He even pulled out a key according to the footage I can see,” Gordon sighed.
“Well, none of his names are on the tenants listed on this buzzer!” he hissed. He really just wanted to break in there and find Todd and make him sit still for a portrait. Damian would draw his whole family as the assignment required; this was the one class he actually liked and he intended to keep his A+ in it!
“Hold on,” Gordon started typing on the other end of the line. Damian stood there waiting impatiently, amazed that no one had come in or out of the building so he could slip in. Seriously! This was New York! The busiest city in the world! And no one had come in or out at all!
“The building is owned by one Jason T. Peters, twenty-five, go figure,” Gordon sighed.
“What?”
“He made a legitimate identity for this one, it’s why it hasn’t popped up, according to records Jason Peters is the owner of about ten properties all around New York, wow, they’re actually nice. And he’s been buying up properties in the warehouse districts and refurbishing them, seems legit, even for Jason,” Gordon observed offhandedly.
“Gordon, which apartment is he in!” Damian snapped.
“According to this, he lives in 4C,” Gordon stated.
“That is a Rachel Roth’s apartment, who is she?” Damian demanded.
“Listed as a live in for two and a half years now, Rachel Roth is a student at NYU, literature major, and freelance writer, current ID lists her as twenty-two, I’m not finding much on her,” Gordon said.
“You have been useful,” he said and hung up as he stepped up to the buzzer and pressed the intercom system on, picking a name of what sounded like an old lady. No response, he pressed again.
“Hello?” a sweet old voice replied.
“I’m selling candies for my school are you interested,” he replied in the innocent child tone he’d been parroting off of Jon, or at least trying too. Thinking of Jon he should have brought him along so he had reinforcements on the selling candies idea.
“Come right on up, I’ll just get my check book!” she said sweetly before the door was buzzed open. Damian slipped in then. It was a nice building he noticed as he jogged up the stairs. Quiet. Making it up to the fourth floor he walked down the hall until he came to a corner apartment, 4C.
Stupid Todd, making him track him down! After Damian got that portrait done he was going to kick Todd’s ass and then proceed to tell his harlot all the horrible things Todd did on his off time.
Knocking he waited a beat before he heard the locks flipping and a security bar flicking and then the door was opened.
Lilac orbs blinked, and he just gaped.
“Raven!?” he sputtered.
“Damian!?” she grabbed him and yanked him into the apartment before she shut the door and locked it up again.
“Who was it?” Todd called appearing out of a different room toweling his hair and then glaring at him, Damian was just too flabbergasted to do anything more than stare at his Team Captain on the Titans, and Todd.
“Uh…” Raven just looked too stunned to answer, and Damian couldn’t seem to make his voice work.
“What the hell!?” Todd snapped. “Who brought you here? What the fuck do you want? Does Bruce know you’re here? And how the hell did you find me!?”
“I am here because I need your stupid face for my art project!” Damian snapped; horrified at how he had simplified his vocabulary because he was shocked that Raven and Todd were in a room together. Clearly Jon’s childish ways were rubbing off on him, Damian was not amused.
“I said no!” Todd shouted as he stepped forward.
“Jason,” Raven was suddenly between him and Todd, and Damian saw his eyes glowing green faintly. “He’s not here as a Bat.”
That had Todd growling as he stalked away and Raven turned on him. Damian fidgeted a bit then when the door slammed and he was in the room with Raven alone.
“Tea?” she offered.
“That would be appreciated,” he decided as he followed her to the open kitchen in the corner and took a seat at the island bar.
“This art project, what is it?” Raven asked as she filled up a tea pot and pulled out mugs before setting it on the stove.
“I was assigned to do family portraits, I have so far completed the assignment until Todd was in town, I will not fail this assignment,” he stated fiercely.
“Sounds like you’re persistent about this if Jason told you no last night,” Raven said as she leaned on the counter.
“I will admit that I was not expecting him to be so… uncooperative,” Damian said carefully. He was speaking to a friend and his Team Captain at the Titans, he did not want to insult her.
“He’s very stubborn,” Raven said with a soft smile.
“I was not expecting you to be here, I was expecting to deal with some flouncing blonde bimbo with how Todd hits on Supergirl,” Damian admitted honestly.
“I figured,” Raven said humorlessly.
“I do not mean to insinuate that you’re a flouncing bimbo,” Damian quickly tried to amend.
~~~*~*~*~~~
This morning Raven had not been expecting her boyfriend of three and a half years to come home with explosions and media covering the latest in Red Hood busts. She had been pleasantly surprised by his call and even more thrilled that he had shown up outside their door after being gone for three and a half months. And she’d been more than enthusiastic about taking a day off from the world to have catch up sex with the boyfriend she’d only seen glimpses of on the news or had phone calls from. However today seemed insistent on surprising her again as she had opened the door to the youngest member of her Team in the Titans, and found him gawking like a fish out of water as he stared at her and Jason. Jason had been furious, Raven could even hazard a guess at why he was so furious, she was kind of mad too. But the moment she had sensed the bloodlust and rage on him and seen his eyes starting to pick up that green tint from the Lazarus Pit she had intervened.
He was currently beating on his punching bag set up in the corner of their guest room, she could feel his fury as he attacked the punching bag. And she could sense Damian’s embarrassment, uncertainty, and determination as he sat across from her blundering over his words. It would have been funny had she not been angry about being found out this way, Jason and she had been moving at their own pace and she figured when he was ready he’d tell his family and she’d tell her friends; when they were ready! Until then they wanted to keep it quiet; only Victor knew. She guessed it was too late to be mad about being found out though.
This was not how she had planned it to happen.
“Damian, I understand,” she assured the embarrassed young teen then.
“I’m sorry,” he hesitantly looked around the apartment and she turned when her kettle started singing as she continued making the tea. She set a cup of it in front of Damian before she moved to the guest room where Jason was working out his fury.
“He shouldn’t be here,” Jason growled lowly.
“I know, when you have calmed down, way down, drink this and join us, I’m going to talk to him for a bit, and Jason,” she said as she set the tea on the desk and reached for the door. “Just do the portrait, it’ll go smoother if you just give him what he wants and then he’s gone.”
She left him there before he could argue with her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school, Damian?” she asked as she walked back to the kitchen then and made her own cup.
“I do not believe that the other class require my presence to function, and they cannot teach me something new,” he shrugged. “You’re Rachel Roth?”
“Yes,” Raven acknowledge as she closed her note books and laptop as she gave Damian her undivided attention and so he couldn’t snoop on her school work.
“I was unaware that you even had a civilian identity,” he said.
“I didn’t tell anyone about it, I wanted it private,” she replied.
“Why?”
“I did not want Zatanna or the League monitoring my every breath, I am not a monster nor am I a criminal so I should not be treated as such, I tolerate that treatment when I work with the League because demons scare people. Also, I just wanted to be human and not have sorcerers and magicians and the League just popping up on my door step,” she admitted. Well, Victor came around for Sunday games and dinner if there wasn’t a mission, but that was family. Jason hadn’t wanted to get involved with his family, but she’d slowly been coaxing him in that direction, she knew he needed to have a good relationship with his family.
“You’re not upset with my arrival?” Damian quickly asked his fear and uncertainty rolling off him even if his voice was indifferent.
“I’m mad, yes, but I’m happy to see you,” she clarified.
“Why?”
“I’m mad because I respect your privacy and I wished to have mine respected in return, but I’m happy to see you Damian,” she explained.
“I see,” he nodded briskly. “How long have you and Todd…?” he looked at a lost then.
“Friends, dating, sleeping together, living together?” she filled in coldly.
“Yes.”
“Five years, three and a half years, three years, two and a half years,” she answered swiftly and smirked into her tea as the young teen’s face reddened.
“You did not need to tell him that,” Jason told her as he emerged from the room.
“I felt it was necessary rather than endure his interrogation and my tripping on answers,” she said as she took the tea cup from Jason, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He was a tactile person with those he loved, but this was different, and Raven knew it. Jason was keeping her close so he didn’t do something he’d regret, she would use her empathy on him with his permission. He kissed the top of her head, Raven felt him tremble a bit as she decided to use her empathy to calm and sooth him.
“So what do you want, twerp?” her boyfriend demanded. The gangly young teen scowled a bit and bristled but Raven lifted a brow on him.
“I need a portrait,” he answered. “You can do it with Raven if you want.”
“Me?” Raven blinked, Jason’s arm tightened as she lay an arm over his. He was too tense.
“I have come to consider you family as well, but was not going to do a portrait of the Titans so as not to reveal my identity as Robin,” Damian filled in.
“Please,” Jason whispered.
“Fine, where do you want us?” Raven asked.
“Wherever is fine, live study so do what you normally do,” Damian said.
“I’m cooking,” Jason said suddenly, Raven just nodded to him as he pulled away then. Cooking was how he soothed himself, she just enjoyed the delicious food.
“Since you’re here Damian, stay for dinner, and the night, I’ll take you home tomorrow,” Raven said.
“Father will worry,” Damian pointed out.
“I’m calling him now, and shoes off,” Raven said as she walked to the bedroom to find her Titans phone. This might be a long night but she was not having Damian; trained assassin or not; riding the train at night. Bruce would kill her if she let that happen.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Once Todd seemed to relax as he cooked without talking, the evening went rather smoothly. Raven sat at the counter doing work on her laptop and he had claimed their sofa which had a good view of the kitchen. He was so baffled with them being together that he couldn’t figure out how they could have met. And for five years they’d been friends; he’d been with the Titans for five years! It was so peculiar. And more bizarre, no one had ever noticed. At least, no one in the Wayne family had; he knew if Grayson had such information that he would not stop talking about it until all of the Titans and the League knew. And truthfully, Damian had thought Todd had something going with Supergirl, Kara Danvers. It appeared he was wrong, so was Jon though, which made Damian feel a bit better about having missed this relationship.
“Raven, Rae, sunshine, love, come on, save and close out the school work,” Todd coaxed and Damian smirked as Raven jolted.
“Smells delicious,” she stretched.
“Almost as good as Pennyworth’s,” Damian sniped.
“It’d better, it’s his recipe,” Todd snapped.
“You should be a vegetarian,” Damian commented as he sat at the table in the corner with Raven who was using her magic to set the table and bring the dishes over.
“Just be happy that I made you a vegetarian dinner,” Todd growled.
“No fighting at dinner, and Damian we respect that you don’t eat meat, but respect that we do,” Raven said firmly as she started serving.
“Very well,” Damian surrendered, Raven had been using that argument since before he’d come to the Tower, and Grayson assured him that there’d be no winning against her.
“Can we send him home now?” Todd asked Raven.
“He’s staying the night,” Raven stated.
“I’m certain father would be fine with me taking the train to Gotham, it’s only an hours ride,” Damian pointed out.
“Damian, until you’re eighteen you are not riding the train from New York to Gotham; assassin trained or not, at night, I will send you to another dimension before I let you,” Raven stated.
“B could come get him,” Todd stated.
“He’s staying the night, Bruce has already agreed to it,” Raven said firmly. “We have a couch, and he can use it.”
“The couch,” Damian choked.
“The guest room is an office, and since the only visitor we have does not stay the night there’s no guest bed,” Raven shrugged.
“He could sleep on the floor,” Todd muttered.
“If you’re not careful you might end up sleeping on the floor,” Raven warned Todd. Todd glared at her but Raven seemed rather unaffected by this. Damian just decided looking at them that if Grayson and Gordon were happiness for couples, Todd and Raven were opposites.
“Not likely to happen,” Jason smirked at her.
“With how you’re going it’s a possibility,” Raven countered.
“Do you have everything you want demon spawn?” Todd asked.
“Yes, I do,” he assured them as he ate the potatoes; not that he’d ever tell Pennyworth or Todd this, but these might be better than Pennyworth’s.
“And this was so fucking important that you stalked me… why?” Todd demanded.
“Because I will not fail my art assignment,” Damian snapped.
“Please tell me that the teacher’s sexy hot or something and not because you’re a type A personality Wayne,” Todd pleaded. Raven smacked Todd up the back of the head then. “Hey! Legitimate question since he stalked me! The only reason I’d have stalk Dick was to impress Donna before I died, and I was his age at the time!”
Raven gave him a bland stare.
Damian frowned.
“No, I did not do this because Mrs. Thompson is hot,” Damian answered; and she was a very beautiful woman.
“Great, Rae, we might be moving,” Todd warned her.
“We’re not moving!” Raven snapped.
“And Bats will be here in a fortnight,” he warned her.
“You’re just sounding paranoid and ridiculous, and you are going to have to deal with them eventually,” Raven stated flatly.
“Not until I’m dead!” Todd countered.
“Only Oracle knows where I am,” Damian pointed out. Now Raven frowned.
“You were saying about that move?” she asked.
“Glad you see it my way, how do you feel about the west coast?”
“You two are being utterly ridiculous,” Damian stated.
“Look kid, I put a lot of work into staying the hell out of B’s hair, and the entire family for that matter, and I do occasionally work in Gotham, but I have moved on and away and I don’t want them stalking me,” Todd stated.
“Father doesn’t stalk us, he just looks after us,” Damian defended.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Todd snorted.
“Completely ridiculous,” Damian muttered.
“So, Damian, how is everything going for school and Robin?” Raven asked slicing off the conversation and he found himself slowly drawn into this conversation. It was after dinner when Raven and Todd were doing dishes that he saw something he didn’t think possible. They played, doing dishes and they were having a water war. After that Raven helped him turn the sofa into a bed before she wished him a good night and left him.
Damian looked at his drawings of Raven and Todd here and he just wondered if it was really worth sharing it when they were so happy being left alone. However, he refused to fail his assignment, perhaps he would speak with Grayson and father about this relationship and what Todd was doing here in New York. Yawning he let sleep take hold of him as for the first time in his memorable life he went to bed before ten o'clock.
New York was rather noisy outside the window but he still felt safe enough to sleep here.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Jason and she were in bed, Jason was reading his newest novel, and she was reading over a spell book she was trying to figure out.
“I’ll take him home in the morning,” Raven said calmly.
“You could have just teleported him away,” Jason pointed out.
“Jason, I’m tired, and I don’t particularly have the energy to deal with Dick, Tim, Bruce, and Damian all at once at the moment,” she yawned.
“Well, we’d be more tired if the demon spawn hadn’t shown up,” he murmured as he set her book aside and his book was on his nightstand. She sighed as his lips were pressed to her pulse.
“You’re shameless,” she muttered.
“I was deprived of sex for three and a half months, and I missed you,” he murmured against her collarbone.
“Missed you too,” she murmured as she tugged on his hair, bringing his mouth to hers.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Jason stared at Raven as she slept soundly beside him and he felt content. Restless; he was still in a different time zone, but he felt content as he moved her black hair aside and studied her face quietly. The woman was a Queen, an angel, and his God’s send. He could remember when she’d found him and then snuck him into the Tower to help him, her and Victor would have gotten in so much shit if Dick or Bruce knew about that.
However, she had saved him, and Victor had helped him.
Rolling out of bed he pulled on his discarded sleep pants before padding out of their room. The demon brat was sleeping on the couch; it was weird having him there, but the brat was sound asleep; feet hanging off the couch too. Silently he moved to his kitchen again as he pulled out some orange juice and quietly poured it as he opened his book and sat in the nook reading by the city’s light.
Leaving Gotham was the best fucking choice he’d ever made, and he would happily never look back on this decision. Jason read until dawn, then his eyes flicked up when his girlfriend stumbled out of their room wearing his red t-shirt, and yoga pants.
“Morning,” she mumbled as she came over to the reading nook he’d built her when he’d first started renovating buildings. She crawled onto his lap and curled up against his chest, she was sound asleep in a second again, he smirked as he let his head fall back and rest against the window sill and he shut his eyes for a moment.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Damian sketched them like that this morning, he did it for a few hours before his phone rang and he saw his father’s number. Both Raven and Todd bolted up when his phone’s ringtone pierced the air looking wild.
“Morning father,” Damian answered, his irritation at having the moment he had been enjoying sketching ruined. They hadn’t moved; for three hours! He’d woken up when Raven had come stumbling out of the room at five, and it was now eight, neither she nor Todd have moved at all; and if he hadn’t known better he’d have thought them both to be dead. Todd groaned, Raven sighed, and Damian tuned them out.
“You’re still with Raven I presume,” his father stated.
“You are tracking my phone, and yes,” he stated. “I will be home before noon.”
“Keep me apprised,” was all his father said before hanging up.
“Now we have to fucking move,” Todd muttered.
“Food,” Raven ordered with a yawn.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, waffles, you kid?” Todd yawned as he stood.
“I do not like waffles,” Damian stated.
“Well you’re going to fucking love mine and eat them all then you and sunshine are heading to Gotham,” Todd stated.
“Father would be pleased to see you, Todd,” Damian persisted. His father always looked so wistful when Todd showed up and then vanished, or when Pennyworth received a text or email or call from Todd. Father was wistful whenever Todd came up or anyone saw or heard from him.
“Don’t give a shit,” Todd snapped.
“Waffles,” Raven muttered.
“Coffee,” Todd yawned.
“On it,” Raven stretched and Damian sat at the island as they worked in silence.
Breakfast was served swiftly and devoured. He took Raven up on the offer to shower, and he tried not to cringe about how out of place the bathroom was to the rest of the apartment. The rest of the apartment was a mix between open-vintage-light-classic and then there was this bathroom. Stepping out of the bathroom he looked at the offered clothes tossed on the bed, he wasn’t as tall as Todd; yet, but he wanted the clean shirt.
Looking around the room he noticed that it was practically a library, almost all the walls were covered in shelves, the shelves were even built around the windows, it was rather homey though. Once dressed he walked out of their room to see Raven and Todd both reading, neither seemed inclined to move.
“I’ll grab a shower then we’ll go,” Raven said when he opened his mouth to say his thanks for letting him stay the night. He sighed in irritation knowing there’d been no escaping Raven and dropped in a chair as he scowled at Todd, who didn’t seem to care.
“Your bathroom is shitty,” he stated.
“I know, next project unless I’m moving,” Todd said.
“The apartment is nice,” Damian observed.
“Thanks, restored it myself,” Todd dismissed and Damian blinked at that. Todd didn’t speak further and Damian sighed as he was now reduced to sketching as he waited for Raven to emerge. She appeared shortly, Todd looked up as she walked over to him.
“I’ll be back later, don’t do something rash, love you,” she said.
“Love you little bird,” Jason replied.
Damian looked away when she kissed Todd before he grabbed his bag and followed Raven out of the apartment. They walked in silence all the way to the subway and then rode in silence. He was feeling a bit uncomfortable as he fidgeted in his seat.
“What?” she asked when they exited the subway then.
“Nothing,” he lied.
“Damian, I’m an empath, and if Jason can’t lie to me what makes you think you can?”
“I just did not expect you and Jason to be… together,” he decided.
“Ah, we didn’t either.”
“Can I ask how?”
“I found him in the Lazarus Pit madness, I thought he was a demon, I found him in a room of dead bodies; the League of Assassins was after him, he’d destroyed the assassins, and was raving mad. I took him back to the Tower, kept him safe, and when he wasn’t lost in the madness I offered to help him with it,” she shrugged.
“Why did you never tell father?”
“Because Jason asked me not to, and that is what you do for friends, Damian. You help them, and I do not think that at that time Bruce or any of you, would have been much help for him, and afterwards he hasn’t wanted to mend fences,” Raven stated as she bought them tickets to Gotham, hers was a round trip though. “I’ve been pushing him towards it, slowly.”
“Are you two… happy?” Damian asked. He knew that was a big thing with couples, being happy. Grayson and Gordon were always happy, Kori and Harper too, but he also knew that not all couples were happy; like his mother and father.
“We work at it, but yes,” she said.
“Then I am pleased for you,” he decided.
“Really?” Raven asked skeptically.
“You are perhaps my dearest friend, aside from Jon, but he’s an imbecile, I find Todd to be tolerable, a simpleton, but tolerable,” Damian decided. Truthfully he though Todd to be exceedingly resourceful and cunning but there was no way he was ever going to say that; he’d sooner chop his tongue out than say that.
“And what am I?” Raven asked, her monotone was amused.
“You are actually intelligent, I find your company most enjoyable,” he assured her as they walked onto the commuter train.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Raven said.
“What are you studying,” he asked and he spent the next fourty-five minutes talking to Raven about literature. She said Todd loved it, Damian found that easy to believe since Todd’s old room was crammed full of books. It was only as they neared the Manor that Raven seemed nervous until he pressed in the code for the gate; having not taken a bike but rather the subway when he’d ditched school the other day.
“Master Damian, most irresponsible of you to run off like that, from school no less,” Pennyworth scolded upon opening the door. Damian internally winced; he hated it the most when Pennyworth guilted him about this. “Good afternoon to you, Miss Raven.”
“It’s nice to see you Alfred, now I should be…,” Raven started.
“Master Bruce, Miss Gordon, and Master Dick are awaiting you and Master Damian in the study,” Pennyworth interrupted.
“…going. Fuck,” Raven sighed in defeat.
“That is no way for a lady to speak, Miss Raven,” Alfred stated.
“I’m sure by now all of you have figured out who I am living with so you can blame him for my bad language and bad habits,” Raven muttered as Damian and she walked through the Manor for his father’s study. It was funny to see the Titan’s indomitable Raven brought down by Pennyworth, normally Raven was like Pennyworth on the Titans, she managed to knock them all down and have manners. Grayson may have been the mother hen of the Titans, but Raven was the parent, and she wielded her power over them how Pennyworth wielded his, with an iron fist and class. Damian noticed how everyone was just outside the study but Raven glared at them and they scattered; not Cain though, Cain held her grown until they were in the study.
“Father, Grayson, Gordon,” Damian greeted.
“Morning,” Raven acknowledged.
“Damian, Raven,” his father started but Grayson cut him off.
~~~*~*~*~~~
“When were you going to tell us about Jason!? Didn’t you think we had the right to know about you and him!? And seriously Rae! How irresponsible are you that you just let him do whatever the hell he wants even though he’s dating a Titan!? Just wait until Vic finds out about this!” Dick started and Damian opened his mouth to counter when she cut them all off. She had always expected this but dealing with it without Jason there to add fuel to the proverbial fire was something she hadn’t expected. So she’d cut all of the questions off and explain before Dick was raving mad and scared.
“I did not tell you about Jason because he asked me not to, and I am his friend first, and if any of you had asked me not to tell Batman something I wouldn’t breath a word of it. Yes, I do think you had a right to know about him, not about us because that is not your business unless he wants it to be your business. And when the hell has anyone ever been able to make Jason do anything!? Controlling him or demanding anything of him is impossible! It’s like trying to control a hurricane! He’s going to do whatever he deems necessary to get his jobs done and you can either stand by that or get out of his way. I am unable to reign him in, on anything, from renovating the bathroom to charging into a warehouse of goons with guns, explosives, and outnumber him fifty to one, head first than you were! It’s preposterous to think I could or that I would!
"Also, no one knew we were dating aside from Victor, so go ahead and have that lovely chat with Vic, he’ll be happy to finally have someone to bitch about Jason to, finally, so our dating doesn’t affect the Titan’s image. Also, Victor approved, just so you know, Jason even asked him permission to date me, which is very sweet; and unnecessary, but sweet all the same and while Victor does not always like Jason, he trusts him, which should tell you a lot,” Raven said evenly.
“Jason T. Peters,” Barbra started and Raven sighed.
“He wanted to be legitimate for a change, Vic and I helped him set that identity up, with back long and papers to prove him as alive, the same time I arranged my own official identity,” Raven sighed.
“I would like a moment with Raven, alone,” Bruce said.
“Father!” Damian protested.
“Very well,” Raven nodded and she watched as the other three occupants left, she saw Alfred shut the doors behind them and she sighed as she looked into the sharp blue eyes of Bruce Wayne. They made her feel as if she were staring into the eyes of a dangerous predator, a man who could easily cut her down and destroy her and walk away as if it were nothing. Jason had this very look in his eyes too, so she held her ground.
“How is he?” Bruce asked softly. The question threw her off guard as she blinked impassively at him before carefully answering him.
“He has good days and bad days,” she admitted. She wasn’t going to lie to her boyfriend’s father.
“Is he… happy?”
“He’s very happy, especially when he’s got free range to rip apart our apartment and renovate it how he wants,” Raven admitted. Projects kept Jason calm, having things to tinker with or do with his hands kept him calm, and busy. “He’s decided to gut our bathroom, and he’s probably started on that while I came here with Damian.”
“Really?” Bruce asked, looking and acting impassive but she felt his amusement rolling off him.
“Yes, it took him four months to do the kitchen, he worked on it around jobs, it’s a good thing I do not cook else I’d have gone mad and murdered him for the mess he left,” Raven said with a bit of a smile.
“I do not approve of you keeping the relationship a secret,” Bruce said sternly.
“I know,” she acknowledged.
“And I do not approve of my son dating an interdimensional demon’s daughter,” Bruce continued.
She nodded at that one; remembering the fights Dick and Bruce had about meta-humans when Dick had been dating Kori.
“I know,” she admitted softly. “Jason even knows you don’t approve and how you feel about relationships between your sons and metas, and I’m certain that in the beginning of this relationship he was hanging around me as an act of defiance to you and what you stand for. But understand this, Bruce, while I adore all of your sons and daughters, and consider them dear friends who I would do just about anything for, I love Jason and I will do anything for him. He doesn’t ask for much, he’s been quiet about what he wants in this relationship, and he’s been good to me, but should he ever ask anything of me I will do everything I can to give it to him. I am not here to seek your approval, for I do not need it. I came here today to tell you that I love your son and that I am trying to bring Jason home to you and your family. He needs you, he doesn’t act like it and he doesn’t ever say anything about it, but he misses you, all of you, he just doesn’t want to let you down.”
“Could you possibly get him to come to the Manor for a dinner?” Bruce asked her.
“No, but send Alfred over, he’ll do anything Alfred asks,” Raven stated. Bruce’s lips quirked a bit and she smiled at him.
“He’s a good man Bruce, and you might not like how he does the job, and you will probably never agree on how to go about the job, but he’s a good man. And he’s been trying to stick to your no killing rule as a way to appease you, if you can see he’s trying, I’m certain he’ll see you trying and he’ll come home,” Raven said.
“I see.”
“Damian was a delightful guest, he’s growing into a fine young man, now I have to go home and make certain you son hasn’t destroyed the apartment with his starting of renovations on the bathroom, he likes gutting the rooms the most,” Raven sighed.
“Thank you Raven,” Bruce said as she reached the doors. She paused before she would leave.
“A word of advice, don’t crowd him, he’ll bolt if he’s crowded,” Raven warned and then she walked out of the study. She ignored the gaggle of Wayne children as she made her way out the Manor.
“You should stop by Alfred, he might come to a dinner if you invite him,” Raven mused as she reached the front door.
“I will take that under advisement, Miss Raven,” Alfred mused. “I have called you a cab to the station.”
“Thank you,” Raven smiled as she left the Manor and got in the cab. So… that wasn’t what she was expecting. Now she was hoping her apartment was in one piece when she returned home. She knew Jason well enough to know he was agitated and his agitation lead to three things: trouble or chain smoking or destroying something. She was betting all three to have occurred in her absence.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Bruce sighed, he’d never been particularly good at being a father for Jason. It was only after Jason’s death that he realized Jason had needed a father and not Batman.
Now, his second son was twenty-five, and dating a demon who loved him. It was baffling to Bruce, he did not like the idea of his sons dating meta-humans for the simple fact of he didn’t want them hurt or killed. But the young empath hadn’t seemed to care about his opinion on the matter before she had cut down every argument he had to get her away from his son and walked away. Now he was leaning against his desk startled at the audacity of the young woman and bemused at how she had stood by his son.
“Father,” he looked at Damian then. “I think you would like to see these,”
Damian presented his sketchbook then and Bruce opened it.
He smirked at the first image of Raven and Jason in a kitchen, at first glance they were strangers who never interacted. The second image was of a meal, Raven whacking Jason upside the back of his head, and Damian had even drawn himself in the image. Which was an amusing first. The third image was of Raven and Jason, they were doing the dishes. But it was the final image which had Bruce just staring blankly at his son’s drawing.
The demoness was curled up in his son’s lap, and Jason looked like he was in heaven. They were both asleep and Damian’s drawing depicted the city outside the window.
“Raven is my friend, but she makes Todd happy, and he makes her happy,” Damian said coldly. “Raven said they work at their relationship.”
“Damian it’s more complicated than that,” Bruce sighed.
“Well, if these drawings are anything to go by I’d say Jason’s happy,” Dick suddenly announced and Bruce had to agree. Damian only drew reality so these drawings were as good as photos, and they depicted a happy Jason. A Jason that Bruce had thought dead and buried, and yet he was sitting right there with a small woman and a phantom smile on his lips.
“That one is for us,” Dick decided as he plucked the sketchbook out of his hands. Damian didn’t even protest when Dick tore out the last drawing. “There, the rest you can use for school; stalker. I’m going to make a copy of this and send it to Vic and Raven.”
Bruce watched as his eldest walked out with his fiancé and he looked at his youngest then.
“Raven’s family now father, she’s even a bird,” Damian smirked.
“What?”
“Jason calls her little bird, she’s family now,” Damian decided. Bruce was just dumbstruck and then he smiled; all the kids had nicknamed themselves over the years with bird being a part of the name, it was a part of the family. Well, he could learn to tolerate it if the rest accepted it.
And just maybe Raven would lure his wayward son back home.
~~~*~*~*~~~
Jason looked up when his girlfriend walked into the apartment, he was working on ordering a dumpster and shoot for his gut job, and reflexively he smiled in relief at her arrival.
“Tomorrow’s great,” he agreed and hung up before she walked up to him to stand toe to toe, her head tilted back and he saw her stubbornness.
“Your family is a pain in the ass!” she stated flatly. He laughed then.
“Bruce doesn’t approve of our relationship, I get he doesn’t like metas, and a demon is probably way worse in his book, Dick was raving but happy for you, and the rest of them are nosey and eavesdropped the entire time!” she snapped.
“You knew this,” Jason pointed out as he wrapped an arm around her.
“I know, I just… I was not expecting the bathroom to be still in one piece,” she trailed off as she stared at it.
“I called Victor he’s coming over to help me with the heavy shit, but he’s also got a few design plans,” Jason said.
“Huh, I’m just relieved to see it in one piece,” Raven admitted. “Oh, and you should know Bruce is likely to be sending Alfred here to drag you to a family dinner.”
“What?”
“You’re going,” Raven dismissed as she turned in on him and levitated so she was eye level with him.
“I am?”
“Yes, and I’ll wear that thing, the black one,” she promised. He lifted his brows in interest then.
“The lace or the silk?”
“The silk. I can even wear red if you prefer,” she promised.
“You don’t own a red one,” he pointed out.
“No I don’t, but Kori wants to go shopping later this week to catch up and I agreed,” she said as her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
“In that case, I’ll consider it,” he murmured as he slowly started back her into a wall, hooking her legs around his waist.
“You’re going,” she said firmly.
“Maybe,” he agreed as he leaned forward.
“Jason?”
“Bat family does not get to fuck up the fact I have been deprived of sex for three and a half months, and a few hours does not make up for being away,” he said seriously.
“Is sex all you think about!?” she asked when his mouth was a breath away.
“No, but it’s a good portion of what I’ve been thinking about lately,” he smiled. “That and renovating the bathroom, upping the security so the Bats can’t just waltz in, and if I could possibly steal the batmobile as retribute for the demon spawn stalking me home and Oracle hacking surrounding security to spy on me now. But mostly sex.”
“You’re impossible!” she sighed in exasperation.
“But you love me anyway,” he pointed out.
“I do,” she sighed and he kissed her hard. He loved her, he really did, that was his last thought before she kissed him back and all thoughts disappeared.
#bluboothalassophile#fanfic#dc comics#long fic#jason todd#raven#damian wayne#barbara gordon#batfamily#red hood#redrae#raex#ao3#ff#one shot#fluff#teen titans#calm in the storm
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rage
So, here I am, almost a year since my ex dumped me, still yelling at him in my head at least once a week and often more. It’s not a daily thing anymore, thank god for that. Point is that in spite of the healing I’ve done I’m in a place where I need to be honest with my anger. I’ve made a serious effort at focusing this around forgiveness and addressing myself to what I then perceived to be legitimate criticism and to make this year be about growth and regeneration and all that. I’ve demonstrated that I’m not just a loser who can’t make plans for himself with career, I’ve shown that my body isn’t inevitably doomed to smallness and weakness, and I’ve shown that I’m not afraid of responsibility or unable to plan for retirement. I’m a homeowner now, and as of this week my equity has officially increased by 1,000 bucks or so due to my payments, which means that I now own roughly 1% more of my house than I did when I bought it (as I understand this anyway). I have a garden filled with beautiful and fruitful growing things and my cat is healthy and warm and safe. It’s not the home together I thought we were building but I have made a home and a little family of my own, and I’m proud to look after it all. I’ve done a really good job reconnecting with people I lost track of during the relationship or who I alienated in order to meet Chris’s demands of my time or his paranoid jealousy. I was so isolated in the end, I didn’t feel like I could reach out to anyone. I’ve either made one new friend or reconnected with an old one each month since he left, and my life is again a fleshed-out, robust social experience. In the past year I’ve turned to my medical concerns, and by changing the meds I take to manage HIV, my doctor has freed me from what I did not understand was chronic, chemically induced depression. The results in my life have been transformative, literally. He dumped me at 187 pounds with 33% body fat. I wasn’t even a big drinker or anything but I looked like a goddammed gollum. Managing my own endless sadness from the drug and also serving as a buttress for Chris’s anger about his parents or his work or whatever was on the menu that given day withered me. I cannot overemphasize this. When you wake up in the morning and stare at the ceiling and wonder what in the world you’re gonna do to get your feet over the side of the bed the last thing you need is a high-maintenance boyfriend angry about god knows what today. You know you can’t get out of bed because of the eggshells but you also know that if you stay there you will wither and die, so what are you supposed to do? It’s not even breakfast yet and you’re already in crisis. Today, I weighed in at 188 pounds. After having gone down to 170 to lose the fat I’ve eaten like a horse and applied the discipline and added all the weight back as muscle. I could never have done it in so little time on my old medicine, with it’s bone deletion on top of the depression. It would have taken twice as long to do this. My last body fat check put me around 14.5 percent. Not because I need to prove anything to him about my worthiness, but because I’m getting back to the goal and hobby I loved before he turned it into a terrible chore I needed to do in order to be loved. I’ve adopted the view that I and no one else am the most important person in my life and that my time and hobbies should focus around goals that ensure my comfort and happiness. So, while I do indeed remain hung up on this anger, it’s not without reason. I need to acknowledge that constantly accusing me of cheating, demanding that my body be better without giving me the freedom to go to bed, wake up, or go to the gym when I needed to, constantly bombing me with one emotional crisis or another and forbidding me to discuss the relationship with my confidants even as he had lengthy discussions with his about it were not just the childish insecurities of a younger lover. I was stupid to wait around for him to grow out of these behaviors. I should have known that making allowances and giving the excuses and even excising my friendships to satisfy his demands were unhealthy things to do, and that doing them just surrendered more of my autonomy. I was involved in a controlling relationship and I need to say that publicly and without apology or equivocation. I was involved in a controlling relationship with a person who saw me as an accessory, and I need to say that publicly because I can’t go on just quietly being angry about it and waiting for that sensation to subside, because it hasn’t in a year. I need to acknowledge- honestly and publicly- that I am pissed. I’m pissed off about how I was treated, I’m pissed off that I was dumped with the excuse that pursuing career goals and being with me were incompatible after I was specifcally told that he couldn’t handle my taking a career in archaeology because he “couldn’t handle” me being out of town for weeks on end at digs. The irony of that excuse and the truth that he simply wanted to chase dick in bars fills me with fury. I’m pissed off that I was so weak that every one of his misbehaviors I put on other people or apologized for, I’m pissed that I made him so central that I was willing to explain away any stupid way he treated me or other people. I’m pissed off that he had the gall to say “I’m also living with HIV” and make my health concerns and arguably the biggest tragedy in my life into something that was entirely about him. I wasted so much time with psychologists because he told me to talk to them about depression, I was silent about my status around his friends and relatives in order to avoid embarrassing him while he discussed my status with who he wanted and then sought my permission retroactively. I’m angry that I didn’t have the good sense to make my health be about me. I’m most pissed off about the remark because living with HIV doesn’t end when you dump someone. Being in a discordant relationship doesn’t equate to a diagnosis, and if we had discussed my condition honestly then it wouldn’t have been a mystery to his crass, judgmental friend that I needed to disappear every night at 10 because the old drug stopped me being able to drive after dosing. The matter of my survival should not have been made into a discussion about etiquette so that a droning old queen could feign offense. I should never have to apologize for attending to my health. Fuck I might have not even been on the same fucking drug if we’d approached my depression as a drug side effect (it was) and not made it into a counseling mental health issue. But in a relationship in which my judgements and opinions were not relevant, where only his life experiences mattered, the routines and remedies that worked for him- in the gym or in the counseling chair- were the only ones worth considering. Finally, I don’t care if it was in anger over mariokart or if it was because he didn’t wanna horseplay anymore. It was not okay to hit me in anger, not even if I wasn’t meaningfully injured, not even if the stinging went away in a minute or so. It was not okay to go on shouting fits of rage and beat on walls and slam his fists on steering wheels or scream into pillows demonstratively in front of me or stamp his feet when things didn’t go as planned in his work or when there was a disagreement about house work. I am not responsible for his anger issues, and the people who are have not been able to substantially hurt him in years. It’s not about little boy Chris who was treated badly by his parents anymore, it’s about a 220 pound man who can’t control his temper in adulthood. Regardless, it is not about me and it is not my fault. PTSD is not an excuse to lose control with people. Control with people is a litmus for how well one handles PTSD, the ability to get on with other people without fits of rage should be the standard against which one rates recovery for PTSD, not just an expected PTSD thing that the rest of us are responsible for quietly tolerating. I need to say all these things, and I apologize if this posting seems dramatic or demonizing or attention seeking or whatever, but I need to say these things and give voice to my anger because being privately angry has just left me more and more progressively angry and I need to release this in some way. I’ve taken back every other aspect of my life, and yelling at no one during my commutes to work instead of enjoying music or listening to an audiobook is not who I want to be. I want to let this go so that I can be a good boyfriend to whoever I get serious with next, I want to let it go so I’m content in my life. I can’t do that silently on my own like dark clouds that clear, and so I am here to make some noise and just let a storm be a storm.
0 notes
Text
mazikeen/eve/michael fic in progress
title: Ponder on the Narrow House
fandom: Lucifer
characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael
blurb: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.
warnings: Spoilers for Season 5.
0
In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.
She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.
Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.
Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.
Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.
“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”
She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.
When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”
He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”
Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”
His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’
“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”
“They’re afraid of you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”
She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”
Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”
“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”
“A… job.”
“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”
He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.
“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”
She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”
“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.”
0
“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.
“Doesn’t have a soul?”
A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”
Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”
“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.
“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.
“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”
He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.
But he was tired.
Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”
“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”
She pushed him into the sea.
Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”
0
It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.
“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”
Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”
“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”
Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”
Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”
“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”
“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”
“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”
Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”
“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”
“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.
His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”
“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.
“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”
Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”
Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”
“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?”
0
“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.
“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”
(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)
“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”
To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.
“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”
She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.
He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”
“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”
“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”
“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”
“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”
She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”
“No.”
“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”
For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.
But he was tired, tired, tired.
“Here.”
He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”
As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep.
0
It was night when he awoke.
He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.
“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.
“It’s freezing,” he complained.
She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”
They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.
He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”
“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”
Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”
“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”
When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”
(to be continued)
5 notes
·
View notes