Good day love, I just came back from brunch and slamming bottomless mimosas with my girls, and…the mimosas won 😳
And whilst I lay in bed contemplating my life choices and trying to keep my $20 dollar breakfast skillet down.
Got any headcanons or scenario for Strife and Fury and Reader getting White Girl drunk at brunch and War and Death having to deal with them?
Ah yes, Mimosas are all fun and good until one has a lil too much...they always win. Mayhaps a scenario this time around
Brunch of Mimosas
Third person’s POV
When Death had arrived to Y/N’s flat, he was expecting to see them along with the other siblings. All the while hoping the house is still intact due to the foreboding image of three horseman under one roof. To his surprise when he entered, one was there, the only one large enough to have trouble sitting on the couch. Perplexed, Death spoke up to grab his brother’s attention. “War, What are you doing here?”
Said nephilim snapped to attention at this, giving up on the furniture as he stood to his full height. “I would ask you the same, but it would seem for a similar reason.”
“Which is?”
With a gruff reply, War answered with a slightly annoyed expression, still glaring at the piece of furniture below. “Y/N is not here. They left a note pertaining to their whereabouts, so I intend to wait until they return.”
Nodding, Death glanced around the room with an almost thoughtful gaze. He dared himself to ask the obvious. “And what of the other two? I imagine wherever the human goes, Strife is sure to follow.”
War’s expression did not shift much at this inquiry, all he did was point to the counter. Ontop was a slip of paper, and as Death approached and carefully plucked it from the surface, his eyes skimmed the message written.
Got hungry while waiting, will be back after Brunch.
Sincerely, Y/N
P.S. Strife tagged along as well so if you wanna join, feel free to pop in at (Made up restaurant address)
Well that explains their absence...but what of Fury?
As if on cue, the telephone on the wall rang out with it's ear splitting symphony. The Sheer sound made both nephilim flinch as they whipped around to face the source. For a moment they stood there, letting it ring for a while until Death caved and went over. Tentatively, he remembered what Y/N would do to silence it, and slowly picked off the plastic contraption from its perch. Holding it close to his ear, he waited for an answer. Breathing could be heard on the other side with undiscernible background noise to muddy any sort of words to make out. Death was about to hang up until finally, the other person spoke in a voice that left him questioning why he had to be the one to pick up. “Hello hello, we’ve been trying to contact you about your car’s extended warranty. Is this ‘Big red’?”
The overuse of a fake accent was strange, but the lilt and familiar drawl in the other’s voice gave it away. Death instinctively let out deep sigh as he answered in a deadpanned tone. “Strife, where are you and where is Y/N?”
An Immediate answer came when he heard Strife in the background go “Oh shit, it’s the Reaper!” Followed by a raspy laugh and another giggling, and he swore he heard the other whisper something about a prank call. The Old Nephilim almost facepalmed at this, and would have also missed the next person that sounded like Y/N’s voice, but it was light and buzzed by the sound of it as they tried to act serious. “I don’t know who this Strife is...but I will find you....and I will kill you.” And before he could retort, the other line hung up abruptly
The Impulse to crush the infernal device was tempting, but Death had better things to do than take it out on the communications box. War couldn't help but give him a questioning look as Death strode past towards the door. “Where are you going Brother?”
“To find our little wayward trio. It seems they can’t go anywhere without proper supervision.”
*At the Restaurant*
Death had seen many things in the multitude of worlds and eons he has lived through, and while War was the youngest, he certainly was no exception. But even the sight before them had left them stumped and without words.
The restaurant was mostly empty save for the waitress and barkeep, both of whom would not bother looking at the two nephilim, instead were currently transfixed on the lone trio in the back corner of the room. Death himself was almost afraid to approach.
Fury was currently sitting there, but from her slouched form laying her head on top of the table, it was hard to even tell if she was conscious due to how still she was. That in itself was shock enough. The other came in the form of Strife (No surprise), who was now standing in front of the wall with an apple on his head, struggling to keep upright and balanced. At the center of it all was none other than Y/N, also standing but holding what looked like a butter knife in their grasp as they held it upward. They were facing Strife, who called out in a blurry form of speech. “C’mon Y/N, you can do it!! I believe in you!!!”
Next to him, War’s eyes seemed to light up in pure shock, taking the incredulous sight in, and Death couldn’t blame him for the bewildered puzzlement. It’s not everyday you see Nephilim and a human wasted while attempting to play knife throwing, and before War could have a chance to speak up, Death stopped him as he quickly muttered. “No...I wanna see how this plays out.” Even if they were obviously drunk, Death was not about to let the opportunity of a butter knife hitting Strife in the eye pass up.
Both watched as Y/N wavered to the side a bit, and without missing a beat, flung the knife forward hoping to hit the fruit.
Needless to say, it didn’t.
With a metallic clang, it made contact with Strife’s chest plate and bounced off as it fell to the floor. Strife glanced at the failed attempt, and then back to the human with a slurred quip that followed. “Not bad for a first try....how about we try one of my knives...maybe it’ll stick better.”
Death couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle, half tempted to just let it happen until War saw the chance to say something before it got messy. “Strife, what in the Creator’s name are you doing?”
Both Strife and Y/N perked up at the voice, and quickly forgetting about arming the drunk human, Strife called out as he staggered towards the pair. “War! Yo you missed the party, it was just about to get good." Flailing limbs met with the immovable wall of War as one arm landed on his shoulder, holding himself up on unsteady feet. “My bro, you have got to try one of these My-mosies. Y/N said they are pretty good and DAMN, they are good!!”
Y/N giggled in a light hearted manner, adding drowsily. “It’s Mimosa, get it right bro.”
Strife put his other hand up in surrender as he struggled to say his next words, laughing at the cheeky response before Death finally spoke. “What happened to Fury then?”
Y/N quickly piped up as they started. “Well she came in a little later, and while we were eating I got some drinks after she said she was thirsty-”
Before they could finish, Strife interrupted with an excited tone to his voice. “She never had a Mimosa before, and I was already on my third so I gave her mine...Then I think it became a competition after a couple drinks? I think after the....” His words drifted off as he proceeded to count with his fingers, earning a concerned look from War. “Fifth? No...Tenth drink, she went to sleep...that was an hour ago.”
Strife still held onto War’s shoulder for support as he yelled across the room. “Yo Fury, ya dead?!”
A couple seconds passed without a word, but before they could fear the worst, the body shifted as an arm rose up, which proceeded to flip the bird as a coherent response. “Yeeeaaahhh...she’ll be fine.” Strife waved it off as he left War’s side, facing the eldest with an unnerving stare. “You know Y/N, I think I understand that saying now.”
“I said alotta sayings...which one?”
Strife poked a finger at Death, almost accusingly with confidence in his slurry voice. “The one where you get drunk until everything starts to look good....I think that’s happening right now cuz Death don’t look as ugly as usual.”
Y/N sucked a breath through their teeth as they tried to stifle a snort, but the silence from Death was starting to become concerning as golden eyes burned back at Strife. It wasn’t funny anymore. “War, drag him out of here before I render him unable to see anything for a long time.”
Needless to say, all three in question had a very fun time dealing with that hangover
Authors note: I decided after much deliberation to start posting all my fics on Tumblr again, and bring this old blog of mine out of cryostasis. As much as I love Ao3's post editor and whatnot, the lack of interaction with people kinda sucks.
Summary: After the Well of Souls, you'd become far closer friends with Karn, as much as Death absolutely hated it.
Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Just Death being a crusty old git
Word Count: 8210
AO3 Mirror
The stone against your bottom was cold through your clothing, a winter’s chill hard on the weathered rock. But it was at just the right height to talk to Karn, who was leaning towards you with the utmost of interest. You’d normally feel under pressure with a gaze like that, but it was just the way he was, and you’d eventually gotten used to it. You hadn’t gotten used to this cold however, even through layers of gifted clothing still making you shiver. Winter in the Maker’s realm was intense and without their help you surely would’ve frozen right over.
Just another thing to thank them for, as if you didn’t owe them enough already. But they never cashed in, always just seeming grateful to help. The clothing they had given you fit perfectly and kept you far warmer than anything else had, along with making you feel like someone right out of a fantasy book. You’d be tempted to take a mountain trek and further enjoy the vibe, but there was no way you’d make it past the tree line with so many Makers wanting to keep an eye on you. You had far less mass than them, and they worried the cold could ravage your body quite quickly if you weren’t behind a wind break or close to a fire.
So when Karn saw a shiver run through your whole body he asked if you were cold, instantly on edge. One of his hands even raised slightly, stretched as if he was going to just grab you and take you right inside the Forge if you even so much as hinted at yes.
“I’m fineee, you all just worry to much. I'm not going to freeze over in five minutes.” You rubbed your mitten covered hands together and continued talking about what you had been seconds before. You tried your best to ignore Karn’s still noticeable look of concern, still scanning for any signs of you being uncomfortable. The Makers could be far to fussy for your liking.
“But please, you really think that I’d just say goodbye to you guys and never come see you again? I mean, I don’t even know if Death would let me come with him...” Karn brushed the back of his head and laughed as if agreeing with you, but it was blatantly obvious that was indeed what he had been thinking.
“And besides, of course I’d come back! I’d damn well overstay my welcome until you have to put a little poster at the front door that says ‘don’t let this human in’. You guys have been amazing friends, no way I'm just ditching you.” It relived Karn to hear the words from your own lips, dousing the fire in his heart that was quite worried you were going to just disappear. Many of the Makers had thought that, as they had all grown quite fond of you as made your rounds talking to everyone, making friends. They just weren’t as obvious about it as Karn, who was as open of a book as they came.
“You’d have to make a damn right fuss to have Thane do that! I mean I almost got Alya and Valus killed and he nae banned me yet…” Karn threw off the accidental morbidity of the sentence off with a laugh and a smile, content enough to if you were still laughing with him. You rubbed your hands back and forth again, breathing against the fabric trying to instill some more warmth in them.
“Maybe I’ll ditch the ol’ spoilsport and stay here; Take his bird for good measure. I mean, who knows what’ll happen?” Those final words down near sent Karn almost tumbling, overjoyed at the thought that you might consider staying permanently. Even if he hadn’t seem to realize it was largely a joke. He knew it was selfish, to care more that you would be closer to him and the other Makers, but he couldn’t help it.
You’d become particularly close friends with him, who despite the different in sheer number of years, was as youthful as you in personality. In a few weeks after your depressive slump you went from being acquaintances to nigh inseparable, the Maker following you like a ship’s anchor.
When Death had killed himself to save Humanity, to him it felt like seconds of dark. To you however, it had been weeks of unknown and confusion. You’d slumped around the Tri-Stone a wreck, devastated that the one stoic part of your life for what seemed like forever, had completely vanished. Even if that stoic part was a sarcastic, emotionally stunted, putrid corpse smelling Nephilim, he was your rock and his disappearance had hit you harder than any freight train ever could.
In that time you had been inconsolable, but Karn was constantly by your side, doing his damnedest. When you had eventually begun to heal he was the first one to do anything with you, and you wouldn’t be far off to call him your cheerleader. It bred an intense friendship, so much so that if a Maker needed Karn, they could just search for you, and vice versa.
But when Death had returned, it suddenly made friction where things had just been finally smoothing out.
As for The Reaper himself, he had returned only to see you more cheerful around someone your mental age and far less worn down by cynicism, closer to Karn than before he had left. It was one of the first times that Death actually felt something akin to disgruntlement or even jealousy in an uncountable number of years. He hated Karn, that he was a spontaneous mass of energy and would only serve to put you in more trouble.
And now you were even closer than before he had ‘died’, showing him smiles and whispering remarks that previously had only been reserved for him. It had only a temporary thing anyways, a maligned Death thought to himself the last time he had let this get the better of him. You’d previously been nervous of them and huddled behind his pale form, but now with so much time together, you and the Makers had all grown closer.
Great, he thought. He could finally once and for all ditch the human off on people who were at least slightly able to care for you in a way that wouldn’t get you killed. He now no longer had business left in the Maker’s realm, he could just cross this accursed place of the list and forget it existed.
But for some reason, he just couldn’t.
Something always just kept bringing him back, filled with excuses and waiting for moments where you weren’t looking up at some Maker with a cheery face, only to talk himself out of just going to you. If you spotted him however you’d race over, eager to see him again. He could never just walk over, almost as if their was some sort of force stopping him. It further confirmed your suspicions that Death felt, different, than before. He had never been the most inviting person to be around sure, that would be a massive understatement, but he’d always had just enough openings for you to try and wiggle your little way in. But now, he seemed so much more shut off than you had even remembered.
“Uhhh, ye’ freeze over?” You jolted out of your thoughtful streak with no small amount of movement, but Karn didn’t seem to notice. He was glancing over your body, and you beamed back.
“Nah not yet. Just feels like my face is getting smacked by all this wind.” You made a clicking sound with your cheek and looked around. “So, how long does this whole cold season thing last? I don’t mind a good winter but, this is a little to much for me.” Karn let out a boisterous laugh and threw another giant log onto the fire of the kiln, sending embers kicking up and out of the port. The best source of heat was inside, but you enjoyed the fresh air, so the Makers kept this kiln hot just in case.
“Oh, it’s gonna be awhile yet. Just wait until ye’ see the snow get so bad ye’ can’t see yer darn feet!” That, wasn’t to exciting to think about. But at least you had Alya and Valus’ hot forge to retreat to when needed, and a variable treasure trove of warm clothing. Even with all that however you couldn’t help but want a cup of hot chocolate or tea, just to bring the whole thing together. It was highly doubtful the Maker’s realm had any chocolate, but tea however… Maybe you could find something that might taste good if you talked to Muria.
“Geez, just try not to let me get blown away?” Karn enthusiastically reassured he would while you continued to speak.
“Say, you haven’t seen Muria around here have you? I wanna ask her something real quick. I have an idea that i think would be pretty neat.” That final sentence was one that Karn always loved to hear, as it would surely bring some sort of entertainment to the otherwise relatively boring, according to him, Tri-Stone. Grand ideas of adventure and splendor were quickly dashed however, when you simply mumbled about wanting to make something warm to drink, rather than search for relics.
Karn didn’t get many opportunities to go exploring with you, as Death had a watchful eye on your safety most of the time. He had all but banned your leaving of the forge without him. The Maker found it suffocating; And truthfully, wanted an opportunity to truly have you alone and show off. The Tri-Stone was fine sure, but he could always feel someone's eyes on his back, whether it be Death, Valus and Alya, or Thane.
Sure he’d made mistakes, a few big ones, but he wasn’t a child with a sword that needed watching. But then again, all the Makers treated you as if you were made of glass, and even Karn couldn’t help but agree.
But even a beautiful glass figurine like you couldn’t just stay in a display for the rest of your days, you needed freedom, breathing room.
“Karn?” The Maker stood upright, quickly turning his head and scanning for Muria. You stared at him concerned, but didn’t actually comment.
“I’m lookin’ for ‘er I’m lookin’!” He didn’t notice the Shaman, but someone else did catch his eye.
Death was coming into the Tri-Stone, wind attempting to displace him only to face an unmovable body. Before he could make any comment about not seeing Muria you turned your head to look as well, wind blowing your hair in every direction. You caught Death’s glance first, watching you huddled near the fire of the outdoor forge. Then he glanced upwards and noticed; You were with Karn.
Of course, you were with that damn Maker. Why did he ever expect otherwise. Part of him was almost tempted to just turn around and leave from whence he came, until you seemed to spot him. Karn knew what you’d do and gave you a smile and throw of a giant hand.
“Go say ‘ello to the Horsemen for me, will yah?” Now Karn had an acceptable out, you jogging over to Death as fast as you could while he could go back inside. Karn only watched for a moment, already not liking the feeling down his spine. Death’s glare was as cold as the grave, and Karn wasn’t fond of it in the slightest.
Back to the wind you hopped down the tall steps, holding onto your clothing. While the main paths were clear of snow everything else wasn’t and you seemed intent on taking the technically quickest path. Trudging through snow however quickly slowed you down, along with the sizable weight of your boots.
Death had never seen someone run at him with a smile, nor had he ever seen a human so swaddled to the ears in warm furs. You had so many on you’d almost lost your silhouette, a belt the only thing still defining your waist.
While it highlighted just how fragile you were, he also found it almost endearing. Especially when you almost tripped and fell from the thick snow, regretting not taking the cleared path. He would’ve met you half way, but the whole scenario was so oddly amusing he couldn’t find himself the will power to make the scene shorter. He stood firm, arms crossed, watching you hobble over.
You did eventually make it to him, standing in front and looking up with a small hop, as if you’d just accomplished some great ordeal.
“Phew, the snow is intense here.” Death looked down, orange eyes trained right on you. It was an intense stare, but you’d gotten used to it over your time with him. What he was thinking about you had nary a guess, brushing some of the stray snow flakes off your thighs.
“Indeed. Though it seems the Makers have quite well prepared you for it.” He noticed quite quickly you had even more furs on than the last time he’d seen you, including something to cover your ears and another scarf. And even with that, you were still noticeably shivering. Your nose was a bright red, sniffling.
“Yeah, they did a great job! Alya even made me a hat since my ears kept freezing.”
They clearly didn’t do well enough, if you’re still shivering.
Death’s eyes noticeably glanced around your form, watching your arms tucked close to your body. When he didn’t speak aloud, to busy in his own head, you brushed some snow from the top of your head and looked around.
“I was actually just about to ask Muria something. I was trying to see if I could make something from Ho-,” You stopped yourself. “Earth, but…” Another brush of chill pierced right through your clothing, sending a shiver right up your spine.
“It’s just so damn cold during the day, I can barely stand it! I need something warm to drink before my insides freeze over.” Death was either completely unaffected by the weather, or simply didn’t care if it did. Now that you thought about it, never once had you heard him complain about weather, nor ever seen him sweat or shiver. You'd never realized it before, but now you found yourself almost curious.
“It will only get colder as night falls.” Clearly speaking the obvious, you rolled your eyes jokingly at him. It was noticeable that Death’s mind seemed elsewhere, something you were familiar with during your times together. You’d just gotten used to it, the Horsemen’s head always having a million tabs open.
“Yeah well, I’ll eagerly await the nighttime then.” As if the air wasn’t cold enough, you didn’t like the idea of your body cracking under more intense shivering. “Not like I can stop it.” Death looked down towards you, eyes squinted.
“How marvelous, you’ve finally grasped the concept of time.” Death had that familiar wry, teasing tone to his voice, dragging off the final word to a rumble.
“And all thanks to your help, Death.” Your smile was wide, taking delight in the way he sighed and feigned disappointment in you. But there was still something distinctly off about him, more so than usual. He almost seemed to be looking over you, only glancing down when you walked forward. He never backed up, but you could see his shoulders tense.
Your scarf was the same color as Karn’s clothing; Death wondered if it was a gift.
“It’s cold. You’d do best to get back inside by the fire, before the chill finally gets to you.” Death didn’t have to much to say after that, and mostly resigned himself to leaving you, grabbing whatever thing he had made the excuse to need at the Tri-Stone, and then once again took his leave. It was abrupt, and left you standing with your arms tight trying to protect from the wind.
You watched him go without fanfare, and it foully reminded you of a few months earlier. In order to not dwell on sour memories, you decided to take shelter inside the Forge, eating some food and trying to have a chat with Alya. It had surprised her you were without Karn, until he made himself known only a few minutes later.
It seemed he either had applicable timing, or he had waited until you were out of eye-shot of the Horsemen before swooping in.
Karn would never consider himself a coward, and he’d have half a mind to pick a fight with the Horsemen, had you not be guaranteed to take a large issue with it. Your approval of him was worth it’s weight in gold, so he’d avoid trying to upset the Reaper anymore than usual; As tempting as the idea was.
“What did ol’ Death want?” Karn approached you from behind, looking down as you finished off whatever you had been munching on.
“Oh, I don’t quite know. He didn’t tell me.” You were smiling, but your voice had that same almost deflated sound it almost always had when Death left. Karn despised it, that the Reaper always left you in a worse mood after he left. Your friends should cheer you up, not sink you downward. But you always kept going back to Death, even if the Makers thought it not in your best interest.
Karn just so desperately wanted you to stop knocking on that door, knowing Death wasn’t going to answer.
“Ahh well, Death’s always a busy lot. Surely he has important… Reaper business to go about to.” The awkward sentence made you chuckle, watching Karn move to sit down beside you.
“Yeah, probably.” A corner of your mouth dropped slightly, looking around the Forge in thought.
Damn that Reaper, he didn’t deserve you fawning all over him when he kept leaving you like this. Why out of everyone, did you choose him?
“I’m probably gonna go to bed early tonight, if I keep it up out here I really do think I’m going to end up an icicle. Maybe my blankets will keep me warmer.” It was the perfect excuse to just spend some time alone, in sun slowly beginning its decent and bringing colder hours. Karn wouldn’t disagree with you getting some rest and warming up; But he didn’t like leaving you sad like this. Just as you began to slide of the step you’d made your temporary seat, Karn quickly jumped up. It startled you and forced you to jump backward, him quickly holding out his hands and apologizing before speaking his thought.
“How ‘bout tomorrow, we ask Muria and make that thing you wanted te’ make?” Face lighting up, it made Karn’s own smile grow wider.
“Sure! Sounds good to me! You can help me taste test and everything, if you want.” ‘If he wanted’; Karn almost scoffed. Of course he’d want to. He was already thinking about what wonderful things you were going to come up with as you walked off, waving goodbye as you went to huddle into bed. He couldn’t help the small bout of pride at having cheered you up, after Death had pulled you downward.
Karn spent the rest of the evening trotting around like the happiest Maker alive, excited for whatever you had planned for them tomorrow.
You never would’ve guessed how different sleeping would be, with the dusk to dawn schedule and no technology to keep you awake. You could wake up almost instantly, sleep fulfilling and regulated.
But you’d gladly take the shit sleep back, if it meant be able to play little phone games and text friends. And with humanity still In a rabble trying to gather themselves back together, it would be another hot minute until that life was a reality again.
Slipping from the bed and shivering as your socked feet touched the stone floor, it was a dash to get shoes on and bundle back up. Even with no wind, it was still terribly cold, and part of you had hoped you’d just sleep endlessly until the weather was a little more, human friendly. With that an impossibility however, you fully clothed yourself and looked around, glancing at the knife on your little makeshift side table.
Death had given it to you, and though you needed it far less now, you’d never have the heart to part with it. It reminded you of him to much; a curved, ghostly blade with a dark handle, weathered from many years of use. You loved the damn thing, in all of its morbidity.
Death surely would’ve cursed your sentiment, against the idea of attachments and mementos. Even if you knew that there was an old weaved friendship bracelet you’d snuck around the handle of one of his scythes you know he's noticed, and he’d never once taken off.
Eyes leaving the blade you raced off out of your tiny room, in search of Karn and the end goal: Your tea. Muria would surely know what plants were at least edible, and you could both experiment from there.
Unless, the Makers already had invented their own tea? And this whole adventure of yours turned out to be a giant circle.
Either way you were still excited, almost ramming into one of Karn’s legs once you’d managed to locate him. Karn laughed and turned to look down at you, before reaching down.
“Slow down there! Someone might step on ye’ if ye’ ain’t careful!” Hopping into his hand then quickly to his shoulder you both took off, all the while you shrugged off his joking worry.
“Nah, don’t worry; I’m pretty good at dodging Maker boots by now.” Giving Karn a chuckle, the two of you managed to catch Muria by her garden, which was no where near as beautiful as it was during the warm months. But she still had plenty of persistent plants, that were still growing leaves somehow despite the weather. Maker realm plants were persistent, if anything.
“Hey Muria! I, we have a question, if you have a minute?” Muria turned from whatever had been previously occupying her, sitting it down before you had the chance to see what it was.
“Ahh, hello you two.” She glanced up towards you, a tiny smile on her face. “And what are the two of you up to this time, might I ask?” Karn turned a little sheepish, gesturing towards you.
“I’m trying to make a drink I remember from Earth; Do you happen to have any plants that, one might consider edible? Not that much could grow in this weather…” Muria chuckled and gestured a hand to a few of her garden boxes.
“You would be surprised how resilient some beings can be, even in the harshest weather. Yes, I might have a few that would fit your description.” That sent you clapping, happily thanking Muria. Karn contracted your joy as well, smiling wide and taking the few branches that she had deemed acceptable. They all looked ok enough, it was just a matter of if they tasted ok.
The spare forge outside would be the perfect place to conduct your experiment, gathering things you needed to boil water, and even a small cup. You didn’t have quite enough for Karn, but you vowed that once you had something that tasted good, you’d make one just for him. Not that he minded either way, as just enjoying the time with you was more than enough; Watching you fuss over boiling water, trying to make, well, whatever you had called this. He had honestly forgotten.
The first plant had tasted awful, the second, slightly better but unbearably sour. The third was even worse than the first, and you’d had a coughing fit from the vile taste. The fourth one however, had potential. You kept making more, testing and futzing around, Karn watching your hands work.
He wondered if this was normal, for humans to spend so much effort making things as simple as a drink. He thought it a little silly at first, but to see how much attention you gave to each taste test, he found himself actually quite eager to test human food.
“Do you think Muria would be mad if I asked her for more?” Your voice snapped Karn out of his thoughts instantly, looking down.
“Only one way to find out, right?” Karn was just about to storm on over, until he noticed Death, standing in the garden he was about to go to.
When had he gotten here? You two had been so distracted neither of you had noticed his arrival. Karn couldn’t keep the idea down, as guilty as it was, that maybe he could keep you busy enough to let Death leave.
“Yeah, we can go and-” Your voice trailed off, and Karn deflated. “Death?” Dammit, you’d noticed, watching the Reaper descend the steps downward and onto the main path out. Eyes locked on the reaper you watched him, standing firm in the wind. Death normally didn’t return so quickly, and a not small part of you was curious as to why. Karn watched you turn to look up at him, a smile on your face.
“I’ll be back in a second, ok? I’ll meet you back inside the Forge.” Leaning inward and breathing in some of the hot steam you sighed, warmed enough to venture away from the fire. Karn would wait inside the Forge for you, but he watched you raced towards Death, swinging your arms while running. He watched, even as Death glanced upwards at him.
Damn that Reaper.
Karn went inside, leaving you out alone in the cold for the time being. You caught up to him just as he was halfway down the main path, managing to get him to stop.
“Hey, you’re back awfully soon. You miss us?”
Us. Since when did you and the Makers become a group?
“Indeed, quite horribly.” Death was cut and dry, even more so than the last time. And you were no closer to figuring out why he was suddenly so despondent. This past week with him had just been awful, and you were trying desperately to patch up the cracks, if you couldn’t find the source.
Trying to figure something out about Death, you might as well have decided to bore a hole through a mountain. But you were still curious what brought him back so soon, even though he more than likely had things to do elsewhere. He was still a busy man, even after everything that had happened.
“So, what did you come back for? S’not like you travel with much anyways.” Death had glanced upward over your head, not noticing the way Karn’s gaze lingered on you before disappearing from view. It seemed the Maker had replaced him as your personal shadow, ever since he’d left you. Ever since he died. Now he kept talking himself out of coming here, throwing around excuses to not see you.
It was the closest Death had ever felt to cowardice, and he hated it. Despised that he could never just tell you how he felt, because it was absurd, pointless and fruitless. But he could never just leave, he had to keep coming back, just one more time.
Damn it all to Hell, he should’ve never let you get this close to him. He couldn’t get you out of his head anymore, the way you looked at him. Death snipped out a curt reply to your innocent question, hoping it would send you off. If he kept doing this, maybe you’d finally get sick of him, leave him for good.
But the feeling it kept making in his gut; He knew it was wrong. That he didn’t want you to.
“Is it common for humans to pry for every meaningless little detail?” You wiggled your nose, rolling your eyes at him.
“Am I not allowed to just ask? Can't fault me for being just a little bit curious.” You noticed him take in a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment. Fingers rubbing together in your mittens you watched him seem far off, before suddenly starting to walk towards the entrance of the Tri-Stone again. You weren’t content to let him just leave like that again; You had a hard enough time already. It took a quick few paces for you to catch up with him, talking loudly over the wind whipping in your ears.
“Death?” When he didn’t answer, your face dropped significantly. What even was so different now? You didn’t remember doing anything to set him off, or was it something else bothering him?
Death sighed, barely even crooking his head to face you.
“And what, pray tell, is your problem this time?” you turned to face him, crossing your arms and staring up. You could see in his eyes he was quite irritated, squinted downward as if his brow was stuck furrowed.
“Can you at least quit ignoring me for five minutes?” When Death didn’t answer, you kicked the snow and attempted to round him and look him in the eyes. He turned away, looking straight forward and over your head.
“There is no need to throw a tantrum.”
When Death acts like this, it is absolutely infuriating. The complete shutdown, locked somewhere within himself. You didn’t know if it was something you said, he saw, he thought, or he remembered, as it was always a mystery. And it usually remained a mystery, until he finally opened back up just enough to his normal self again. Not that his normal self was that talkative either. You’d dealt with it enough already, and it was impossible to deal with, irritating to the point of near insanity.
Your hands outstretched and fingers curled, clearing your throat and looking up at him.
“Well you’re the one acting like a child and ignoring me!” Death finally looked directly down at you with clearly glaring eyes. He may give you far more leniency than others, but he had his limits.
“Behave, girl.” In any other situation, that sentence might’ve very well made you shiver. But Death kept walking forward despite the demand, you trailing just behind as you softly grumbled a ‘make me’. And before you could even realize it, he had his hand cupping your jaw pushing your cheeks upward.
“It would be wise, not to taunt me.” You’d try your best to remain stern but those eyes were like ice, staring down at you from behind the bone mask. You tried your best to keep a stern face but Death could see it cracking, watching your eyes flicker around his face. Your fingers flexed in your mittens, wanting to hold onto something but unable to.
“If you just told me what I did wrong so I can fix it, I wouldn’t have to!”
For a second, Death faltered. You thought this was your fault? While you weren’t incorrect this involved you, it was by nothing of your conscious making.
Death was simply, desiring something where he had no right to.
You were a bright young Human with the world before them, he had no right to tell you who you should show favoritism to. Or that you should only spend your time with a someone like him. He hated that no matter how hard he beat down his emotions, they just seemed to come right back up again like determined weeds, weaving themselves through the cracks. He let go of your face and turned around again.
“You are not at fault.” Death turned his face from you again, closing one eye. “Now end this pointless talk.” Death was stoic, cutting off any hope of communication in moments. Hands bunching up into fists tight enough to leave little dents on your palm, you pursed your lips and breathed harshly. Unable to hold it in any longer you were so frustrated, sick of this. You couldn’t solve anything with Death and your frustrations just kept bottling up, unable to escape and just pressing tighter and tighter against the lid.
“Ughh! Goddammit!”
Your sudden aggressiveness did get Death to turn his attention to you, seeing your face bright red and fuming. One arm raised up and for a split second you look more than ready to give Death a good wallop right on the bicep, but you threw your arms right back at your sides and stormed off instead. He watched your feet attempt to bore holes into the ground as they stomped, hands tugging and ripping at your clothing in anger.
Why you didn’t hit him remained a mystery to Death, watching as you disappeared. He would’ve let you, in a rare moment, not as if it would’ve hurt him in the slightest. Physically, at least. But the fact that you cared enough about him to hold it back, Death thought maybe you might’ve-
No. He wasn’t going to find things where there wasn’t any. Any human would know better than to try and pick a fight with the Grim Reaper. That would be his excuse, ignoring the uncountable other times you’d mocked his speech, bit back at his sarcasm, or even gave him a playful smack on the chest without even the slightest hint of fear.
Standing in the middle of the Tri-Stone like a statue Death suddenly felt out of place, the wind blowing his hair in all directions. He’d get nagged by every Maker here if he let you run off and hurt yourself, might as well go drag you back.
Or he could just go get Karn to do it, as you quite seemed to prefer him now.
Growling into the wind only heard by himself he turned around on a heel, almost throwing his body around, shoulders tight. It would eat at the back of his mind for hours if he didn’t just grab you and throw you back to the Makers, if only to just keep them off his back. But he wouldn’t trust Karn with your safety in the slightest, not after all he’s seen the Maker muck up. What you saw in him confounded Death, but he refused to admit it jealousy.
Stomping down the path he passed no Maker, thankful that each step was free of harassment until he saw Thane in the same spot as always. Guarding the front of the Tri-Stone, and using the training dummies to keep himself busy. He’d have to pass the Maker in order to leave, outside to the meadow where you were probably hiding.
In reality he had only stopped for a few moments, but it was enough to steel his will and sigh, beginning to walk again and turn as soon as possible to make his way up the stone steps. But right as his left foot hit the first step...
“Ahh, so what’d ye do this time Horsemen?” Stopping his mindless thrashing the minute the Horsemen was in earshot he spoke, amused from seeing him bristle. Thane put one hand on his hip and stared downwards, an unmistakable knowing smirk on his face. Death continued to look forward almost frozen, until he bit the inside of his cheek underneath the mask and creaked his head to look towards the Maker.
“And what do you assume I am at fault for? I am fairly busy, it’s sometimes hard to keep track.” Thane either didn’t notice or straight up ignored Death’s sarcastic bite, pointing behind him. Death’s voice was coated in venom, but Thane wasn’t the type to care.
“You sent the girl right up in a tizzy there not a moment ago, stormed right on by without so much a hello. Looked mighty red in the face, if ye ask me.” Death sighed and rolled his eyes, mask moving with his face.
“Many things make the girl upset. I’ve quite lost count of them.” Thane didn’t have much of any patience, especially for Death.
“Not much makes the wee’ thing fumin’ to tears, that’s for sure.” Thane threw a hard stare. “Cept’ fer you.” Another huff of breath, signature for the Reaper, and he crossed his arms. Since when was every Maker here suddenly the expert on Humanity; On you? He was the one who’d brought you here, he was the one who you’d spent the most time with, and-
Wait.
You had cried because of him?
Death closed his eyes for a moment. You’d shouldn’t have wasted the effort.
“I find it hard to believe a human would cry over something quite pointless.” Thane was a Maker of few words, and it was tempting to use his preferred method of problem solving on Death as well. But he held back, if not for the grinding of his teeth. Thane found your infatuation with the Reaper a bad decision, as to him, all that Death seemed to do was leave you in tears and alone. Not that Karn was a better option in his eyes, but at least the Maker had yet to make you cry. That he knew of.
“Horsemen, that damned girl gets so worked up over you nae anyone can calm ‘er down. When you went and offed yourself, her heart damn near broke in two. Not a Maker here was able to make ‘er not shuffle around like you’d taken her soul with you. Who are you to tell her who she’s suppost’a worry about?” Thane crossed his arms tight, before making a hard jerk of his head in the direction you’d fled to. That was the most he'd spoken in quite a long time.
“If I was ye, I’d go apologizin’. Ye ain’t gonna find a better lass than her.” Death let out a one note chuckle, left fingers tight against the hilt of one of his scythes. If it was a neck, it would’ve well been wrung by this point.
“Well yes, humans have been in a rare commodity until quite recently.” Thane shook his head and let out a laugh. It bristled Death quite the wrong way, and if it weren’t for the fact he was in the Tri-Stone, he might’ve done something more aggressive in response.
“Ye might think you’re all smart trying to say all that, but we ain’t stupid. It’s obvious ye care about the girl far more than just makin’ sure she ain’t hurtin’ herself.” Taking his one foot off the step he turned to look fully at the Maker, not content with letting people assume anything about him.
Even if they, weren’t incorrect.
“I do not take kindly to you just making wayward assumptions.” Thane’s head tilt gestured to the partly opened door and by extent, the area beyond it.
“It’s an open field with not a creature in sight, ye have no reason to go after her other than that ye want to, Horsemen.” Death could feel his body tense, neck and shoulders tight enough that he felt the like the muscles could almost rip.
Death hated this. Hated feeling like this. That his emotions were visible to others, and not deep within that rusted, multi-chained lockbox he calls a heart.
“Watch your tongue, Maker.” Thane just smiled, showing sharp tusks behind his lips. It was a taunting one, Death knew well.
“Right right, my apologies. The ‘ol noggin just got knocked in to many times, that’s all.” Death could hear the sarcasm coating Thane’s sentence, downright almost begging the Reaper to try and refute his claim. Which would inevitably start a fight. Death stayed silent, and began his walk again up the steps again. Thane kept quiet, but could hear the heavy sound of the Reaper’s boots before they faded out of earshot, leaving the Tri-Stone.
But now outside you weren’t instantly visible, the meadow looking almost barren.
“Dust.” The crow appeared from almost nowhere, landing on Death’s shoulder with a thud and responding caw. It was shrill in his ear, Death nodding outwards towards the meadow.
“Find the girl, will you?” The lazy bird quite well did as he was told, for once, instantly taking flight and having Death follow not long behind. The beat of Dust’s feathers kicked up powdered snow right into the wind, blowing it westward.
Dust ended up taking him eastward, just to the edge of the where the meadow ended and Baneswood began. That seemed to be as far as you felt safe going, teetering just on the edge of the wilds. There was many things in the that forest that could make easy work of you, so it was smart to stay towards the clearing. He could see your back hunched over, poking a stick into the snow as you sat on a fallen tree. It was just something to occupy your hand while you thought, the wind blowing little snowflakes onto your shoulders.
However when there was a shrill caw and your hair whipped around from the flapping of wings, you gasped as Dust moved to sit on your lap.
“Dust! How’s my favorite crow?” He warbled in response, fluffing up and sitting content on the expanse of your thighs. Death would’ve normally scolded him for being so lazy, but it never seemed to sink in. Quickly you dropped the stick you’d been preoccupied with, abandoning it for the eager bird.
“I was unaware you knew other crows than Dust.” Turning to look over your left shoulder and see Death standing behind you, you struggled to smile with pursed lips.
“Gotta puff up his ego just a little to keep him happy, right?” The mitten of your right hand sunk beneath black feathers, scratching against bumpy flesh and earning a delighted shiver from the bird. Death was surprised you were attempting to be amicable, after how angry you appeared. Strife and Fury couldn’t manage that much, and they were legions older than you. Death made no attempt to come closer, until you looked away from him.
“Sorry for, yelling like that.” Death almost laughed. You were apologizing? He had just gotten ‘scolded’ on the way out to see you that he should.
But then again, you seemed to just give them out like candy, as he’d gotten more sincere ‘I'm sorry’s’ just from you than he had in an uncountable number of years.
Not quite content to have a conversation with the back of your head Death finally moved, sitting down beside you with no small amount of awkwardness. Dust opened a single eye to glare at his master, before closing it again when he realized he was safe for the time being. His head further dug into your stomach, body wiggling to slip further into the comfortable dip between your pressed together thighs. The giant crow took up most of your lap, but you didn’t mind in the slightest.
“You are on thin ice, bird.” Damn the Crowfather for giving him the laziest bird of the bunch, content to sit on the lap of the first willing participant. Death knew you were aware the giant bird happily ate carrion, but you still cooed at the damn thing like it was a child.
Death could have a knife to his throat and would still never say he was jealous; However, he wouldn’t be displeased if you kicked the bird right off your lap and into the snowbank.
Hand continuing to love on the giant bird Death’s face looked mostly forward, eyes watching you. You were busying yourself by playing with Dust but he could see your eyes glance over to him for a second, expectant. You were hoping he would continue the conversation in some way. But Death just continued to watch you pet his crow, silent.
You didn’t even want an apology, why was it suddenly like his mouth was chained shut?
Just say something to her.
He opened his mouth for a second. But, he just couldn’t get out the words. Death sighed and looked down at his feet, seeing how they sunk into the thick snow.
“Come back to the Tri-Stone, will you? You are going to freeze over.” You were shivering clear as day, the shelter of the treeline not doing much to prevent the icy wind. When he stood back up, you made no move that would hint you were going to follow. Scarf whipping in the wind he looked down on you, feeling his eyes on you again.
“Are you deaf, girl?”
“No, I can hear you just fine.” Death stared down at you, feeling it on your shoulders. He seemed hard intent on bringing you back to the Tri-Stone, now that you’d been fetched.
“Then let us go. Before you get ill.” Blowing hot air through your nose forming a steam cloud, you looked up at Death. Your nose wrinkled looking up and him, the wind whipping your hair around and framing your face.
“Oh, so you can care about my well being, but god forbid I do about you?” Your anger seemed to almost melt away, looking down at Dust. “I do care about you, you know. Even though you don't seem to want it.” Why were you, out of all the beings he’d met, so damn determined about him? Even War never cared so blatantly about him, so unafraid to show it, like you were. He sat back down awkwardly beside you.
“I do not require a human to worry over me.” Judging by your tensed hands and frustrated growl, that was quite clearly not the response you’d wanted. You turned your upper body towards him and threw your hands outward, yelling up at him.
“Goddammit Death! Can’t you please just let someone love you, for once!?” He stared at you, and even with you learning to tell from just his eyes his expression, this one was particularly hard to read.
It was almost like he was looking through you, lost in thought.
Putting a hand on his shoulder Death turned to look at you with a small amount of surprise, only able to see his eyes for a split second before you closed your own, and pressed your lips against the exposed area of his cheek.
It was the only option left you could think of, if he kept throwing your words to the wayside thinking they were meaningless.
Leaning back, your lips almost tingled from the feeling. You’d felt his skin against your hands before, but this was a profoundly different experience. He always had cooled skin other than after intense fighting, but the winter had made it almost feel like ice.
"Please just, stop ignoring me."
Were all humans so profoundly absent of self preservation? Death sighed.
“You certainly aren’t the wisest of your species.” You just smiled, wringing your wrist in your hand.
“Well, that wasn’t a no…” Death sighed. It looked like he was going to pinch the bridge of his nose, but simply rubbed against his mask with his palm instead.
“Indeed it was not. How awfully astute.” Now that you were far brighter, smiling and ruffling at Dust’s feathers, he rose up again.
“Now, up. Go back to the Tri-Stone before you freeze over.” You pursed your lips into a pout and got up off the log, holding Dust in your arms not unlike a baby. That bird was like putty in your hands, and Death wouldn’t forget to scold him for this.
“What, do you suddenly need someone to attend your return?” His eyes glanced towards the general area behind the two of you, towards the Tri-Stone. “You seemed to get out here just fine.” Death snapped his fingers and Dust started to rustle, forcing you to let go as he took off to the air. You blew a raspberry watching the crow fly off, before stepping closer to Death.
“Can I not enjoy a nice walk back with you?” You moved to wrap your arms around his, but loose enough that he could wretch it from you if he wished. He didn’t, but sure did he complain about it.
“I change my mind. It was a no.” Suddenly letting go of his arm, you started trotting forward through the snow, away from him on the path back.
“Fine then! Race you back!” Death’s significant height advantage meant that his fast walking steps were competitive in speed to your jog, able to keep up a slight ways behind you. Having snow up past your ankles on the ground didn’t help with your speed either, as it was hard to lug around boots covered in thick, sticky snow.
Until you tripped on a hidden rock, falling face first into the snow. Death let out sigh that shook his ribs, catching up with you as you started getting up. Grasping the back of your coat and lifting you to your feet, You felt a large hand on your head. He shook the snow from your hair, not missing the way one finger pulled a few strands from against your forehead. He assumed your were apologizing or laughing at yourself, but he couldn’t quite make it out, distracted by your eyes. They looked so, unbelievably happy. Dust suddenly landed on your shoulder and almost sent you toppling back downward, only saved by your hand grasping at his arm.
