I need bratty bottom Carmilla
"You didn't even try to speak to me!"
Sera looks up at the woman suddenly manifesting in her office, a swirling vortex of bubbles surrounding both herself and Emily. The smaller angel looks frantic, trailing behind the tall, imposing figure of Carmilla Carmine, the weapons dealer shooting metaphorical daggers at the High Seraphim.
"I'm sorry, Sera!" Emily says, ducking her head behind Carmilla sheepishly. "I was making a delivery to the hotel, and she cornered me, and insisted Charlie call in her favor, so I would bring her here, and...!"
Still reeling from seeing this particular individual imposing herself upon her realm, Sera holds her hand up, willing Emily to calm and slow down.
"It's all right, Emily," Sera says. "I might...have a notion as to what this is about. You may leave. Make sure no one else enters."
Emily nods frantically, re-opening her portal and whispering another quiet "Sorry!" before closing it swiftly behind her.
Sera stands, looking equal parts mortified, shocked, and awestruck. Her former partner, her confidante, her lover, back in the Heavenly realm, waltzing back into Sera's office after, what, 1000 years? Has it really been that long since Carmilla was forced out of this place?
By the Speaker, how time flies when your entire universe is shattered and everything you know and love is taken from you in an instant. Sera still remembers the way Carmilla cried for her...begged her to come with her...
"How are you here?" Sera asks, stopping directly in front of Carmilla, who looks like she wants to tear Sera limb from limb with those absolutely massive claws of hers. Has she always had those? Sera can't remember.
"You were in Hell!" Carmilla ignores her question, shouting with a large, deadly finger just inches from Sera's face. "How dare you put Emily's life in danger? Then have the gall to come and fetch her personally, without even looking my way? Without even acknowledging me! How dare you!"
"Wait," Sera stutters, being drawn out of her reverie by the implication of Carmilla's question. Was Carmilla there...when Charlie and Emily...when the weapon...?
"No, you answer me first!" Sera responds, coming back to herself. "How are you here? You were banished! You shouldn't be able to get through. The holiness of the gates should have stopped you."
"That's for me to know and you to find out," Carmilla says brusquely, uncharacteristically vicious in the way she growls at being dared to justify her presence. "I saw you. I know you saw me, too. I gave my essence to stop that weapon, right along with your sister, and there's no way you didn't know I helped her!"
"I didn't. Carmilla, I swear to you, I didn't! Vox cut us off completely. I didn't know anything of Emily's plight, or yours, until Pentious brought communications back online. I had no idea you were there."
Carmilla raises her leg, bringing her foot down so hard, it shatters the marble tiles beneath her. The angelic steel she's wearing clangs against the hard surface, echoing painfully in Sera's ears.
Sera hardly notices. She's too busy shattering herself, her heart breaking all over again at the disbelief on Carmilla's face.
"How am I supposed to believe you?" Carmilla asks, glaring at Sera with so much sorrow, it borders on being painful. For both women. "You left me down there. To rot. And when you fucking dare show your face again, you don't even acknowledge me! Mierda, all you had to do was look!"
Sera is done with this. She's exhausted, still trying to make sense of how this woman isn't currently being burned to a crisp by her holy grace, and can't possibly think straight with this fallen angel screaming at her about something she couldn't possibly have known.
Before Carmilla can chastise her again, Sera steps forward. The Seraphim advances quickly, not giving Carmilla time to react before she is shoved against the chamber doors behind her. Their impact echos throughout the room, threatening to alert anyone who may be passing by.
Carmilla looks up. And up. Up at Sera. She's not glaring this time. In fact, Carmilla looks rather perplexed. Shocked, even. Because Sera is now shooting visual daggers right back down at her.
Sera had forgotten how small Carmilla is compared to her. How loud, and opinionated, and bossy she had been in her youth. How Sera had let her get away with everything short of murder. How she had pushed, and pushed, and tested Heaven's limits, until Sera couldn't protect her anymore. She was almost as bad as Lucifer, for Speaker's sake.
Sera had still loved her. Bratty, bossy, entitled little archangel that she'd been, until Carmilla had been so violently ripped away from her.
It had been Sera’s fault. She should have seen Carmilla on that day in battle, when the weapon threatened to blow all Hell to kingdom come, but she'd been too focused on Emily. Fine. All right. She'll concede that point.
She may be a literal pillar of creation, but not even the High Seraphim of Heaven can turn back time. If she could, neither of them would have been in this mess.
"I see you now," Sera points out, crowding Carmillla even tighter against the door, until there's barely an atom of distance between herself and the other woman. Sera’s wings fan out behind her, providing an artificial shield for them both.
Sera’s hand circles Carmilla's neck; not roughly, just enough that a thumb resting softly against her cheek coaxes the fallen angel’s eyes upward. Carmilla tries to look away, whining slightly in discomfort at the substantial weight pushing her against the door. Sera lightly adjusts Carmilla’s chin to maintain eye contact. Carmilla had wanted it. There's no way she's letting her shy away now.
"I'm looking now, Carmilla. You have my full and undivided attention, just like you requested. Don't make me ask again...why are you here? What do you want from me?"
To anyone in Hell, it might look as if Carmilla Carmine was done for. The way Sera has her trapped against the door, cowering before the angel, hand at her neck. The other Overlords might call her any number of things: prisoner, victim, casualty of Heaven. Carmilla’s as good as dead, as if she had one of her own weapons at her throat.
They might be right. Even when Carmilla’s gigantic claw grasps at Sera’s relatively small hand, drawing her even closer, if that were possible. When a pair of gossamer wings sprouts from her back, thin and gray from decades, even centuries of misuse. Carmilla flaps them once, twice, three times, trying to lift herself higher toward Sera’s face, but it’s fruitless. She whimpers in frustration when it doesn’t work.
Practice makes perfect, and Carmilla finds herself so out of practice.
Sera’s other hand grabs at the base of Carmilla’s wings. She has only a single pair, and hers are much more fragile than Sera’s. Carmilla yelps when the Seraphim pulls her upward by her mistreated appendages. Not forcefully or roughly, but with enough authority to remind Carmilla who she is.
Sera holds Carmilla’s wings together in one hand, keeping the smaller woman from flapping or fidgeting in her grasp. The feathers at Carmilla’s back lilt in a way that lets Sera know Carmilla hasn’t used them in a long time. She might cry about that, if she wasn’t currently trying to make a point.
“You can tell me, my love,” Sera says, voice much softer now. “Just say it”
Carmilla’s eyes widen at the old pet name. She groans again, letting Sera know this particular line of questioning is working on her.
“You. I just wanted to see you,” Carmilla finally says, twisting weakly in Sera’s grasp in a feigned effort to get away. “I wanted you to see me, and miss me, the way I missed you. Is that so wrong?”
Something starts to ache in the place where Sera’s heart would be, if she had one. It feels like a chasm has opened beneath her, attempting to swallow her whole. She feels like she’s falling in place, while her feet are still planted firmly on the ground. She opens her mouth to say something, but there are no words to be found there.
Thankfully, Carmilla doesn’t wait for her to respond. She takes advantage of the momentary slack at the base of her wings and launches herself forward, grabbing onto Sera’s shoulders. Their lips smash together in a frenzy of tongue and teeth. Sera stumbles back a few steps, catching Carmilla around the waist before she drops her.
Carmilla pulls away, starts necking at Sera’s throat, like a goddamned teenager. Sera takes a moment to catch her breath, gasping aloud, before pulling Carmilla’s mouth back to hers. Like fuck would she allow this woman to leave marks on her after all this time. Not when Heaven and Hell are this close to making an alliance.
“I did miss you,” Sera says firmly, confidently, so Carmilla can never question her motives again. She pulls away to let Carmilla know she is serious. “I promise, I had no idea you were there. You could have told Emily. Discretely. She would have delivered your message in confidence.”
Carmilla acts as if she doesn’t hear Sera. Her mouth may as well be permanently attached to the Seraphim’s face, with how little she’s allowing Sera to speak.
“Let’s discuss this later, cariño,” Carmilla interrupts, breathless. “I have 1000 years of this to make up for, and I'm not feeling very patient.”
Well. Who is Sera to argue with that logic?
“Don’t you dare drop me,” Carmilla says, eyes sharpening as Sera adjusts the smaller woman’s body against her.
“I would never,” Sera says, a litle more cocky than is average for her. She takes hold of Carmilla’s wings again, leans her back against the door, and reminds the Overlord exactly what she’s been missing out on.
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