#8 with vanilla ice? I don’t know why, just feel like sassing him for being a Dio simp
I had fun writing this. Enjoy! <3
Everyone who was anyone in Dio’s egyptian home knew about you. You were his right hand gal. Anything he needed done that he didn’t want to do himself, he left you in charge of.
You were basically a teacher’s pet, and though everyone else respected your position in the hierarchy, some scorned you for it.
Like the man in front of you now. He was going off about something that you couldn’t care less about.
“Shut up,” you snapped. “Just stop bitching to me about what some dumb-fuck did. I don’t care. Dio wouldn’t care. You’re just being a whiny little bitch, Vanilla Ice.”
The purple-haired man shot you a glare so cold his name actually made sense for a second there. “Lord Dio wouldn’t approve of--”
“Are you him?” you said, cutting him off.
“What?”
“Are. You. Dio?”
He scoffed. “No, but--”
“Well, then you’re not the boss of me, so I don’t want to hear it.”
His face went red in anger and embarrassment. Vanilla Ice looked as though he wanted to respond, but no words came out. He just crossed his arms before walking away with what little dignity he had left.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A deep voice questioned from behind you. Speak of the Devil.
“Putting a man in his place.”
Dio gave his iconic dark laugh. He placed a sharp-nailed hand on your shoulder. “As always, you never cease to entertain me.”
