Fic - "Hestia" (5/7)
Oct. 28th, 2011 05:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stormkeeper_lovedorisTitle: Hestia (5/7)
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Hestia – Chapter Five
1970
With Marina down for a nap, Azazel and Riptide enjoyed some alone-time together in their room. They hurriedly undressed. Azazel lay on his back, with Riptide above him, gently spreading kisses over his body. One of Riptide’s hands travelled lower and stroked Azazel. Azazel remained on his back, just enjoying Riptide’s efforts.
“I see you are horny,” Riptide murmured. “But you are lazy too. You are supposed to be ‘a top’, as they say.”
Azazel frowned. Well, they had been together for thirteen years now. Maybe after all of this time, one must expect bluntness. Maybe after all this time you got lazy about your marriage too.
“I am tired. And old, with many injuries from years ago that did not fully heal. And to raise Marina is difficult,” Azazel said straightforwardly. His goatee was streaked with gray.
“I know. But I miss it when you used to…to take me.”
Azazel smiled. “To ‘take you’? Are you reading – what are they called – romance novels?”
Riptide shook his head, as Azazel closed his eyes for a moment. Riptide had a point, Azazel knew. He could try a bit harder, aching muscles and fatigue aside.
“But perhaps you are right,” Azazel allowed.
With that, Azazel marshaled his energy reserves and maneuvered upwards. He flipped Riptide over, onto his stomach. Azazel licked one of Riptide’s ears while caressing his back and shoulder. His tail reached over and playfully smacked Riptide’s rear, twice. They were light blows which did not deliver any pain.
“This is more like it,” Riptide enthused. He then encouraged, “Use your hand and smack me again there, maybe a bit harder. And where is the lube?”
Azazel playfully chuckled. “You want me to ‘take you’, then I decide what we do next, no?” He reached a hand around to flick at Riptide’s nipples, eliciting a few moans.
At that moment, Marina woke up from her nap, crying loudly. Muttered, resigned swearing in Russian and Spanish followed.
When they had first adopted Marina, Azazel had first been of the mindset that when she wailed, she should “cry it out”. But Riptide had overridden him and the two men then had always rushed to tend to her when she cried.
Their intimate encounter would have to wait.
1971
“Why it rains sometimes but not always?” Marina asked.
Hestia was heading away from the rain, but light drops were falling onto the ship and spotting its windows. Marina sat with her fathers in the dry kitchen.
Azazel and Riptide looked at each other.
“It is because the weather changes,” Azazel explained. “It cannot be same every day.”
“Why?”
This was the latest in a series of questions asked by Marina which stumped her fathers. “Why is the sky blue?”, “Why do you have a tail Papa, but Daddy and I don’t?”, “Why do I need to eat vegetables?”, “What makes our boat go?”
Neither Azazel nor Riptide was highly educated, to say the least. They might have grown up far from each other in terms of distance, but they had grown up under the same squalid conditions as much of the world. Poverty and deprivation had been their daily staples, topped off with an extremely low-quality education, one that had ended early.
Later that day, Azazel teleported away and returned with a few gifts for Marina.
“I think you will like this,” Azazel said, grinning. He handed the wrapped gifts to Marina.
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, once the wrapping paper had been torn off. Marina removed some of the wrapping paper but was assisted by her fathers. “Books. I love books.”
“Not just any books,” Riptide said, excitement in his voice as he leaned down to open them with Marina. “Science books. For children. They will help you answer some of the questions you have.”
Marina flipped through the pages, frowning. The very smart girl could read a little already, though of course she required books targeted to the youngest ages for that. The first book she reached for was not only too thick and heavy, but it contained sentences far too advanced for her.
“I can’t read this!” she exclaimed, frustrated.
“Patience, my dear. You will be able to read it. You are brilliant girl,” Azazel said, patting her on the back. “Maybe not today, but you will learn to read them. They will help you with your questions.”
“Perhaps someday you will be a great scientist,” Riptide added.
“Maybe. I want to read them now. Read them to me,” Marina ordered.
“What do you say?” Riptide prompted gently, not caring for Marina’s tone of voice.
“Please.”
“We will. At bedtime,” Azazel promised. “First we must all finish our chores.”
Later, Azazel and Riptide climbed into Marina’s bed, with the girl between them. Now that Marina had been bathed, brushed her teeth, and taken a comb through her thick black hair, she was ready for bed. Each of her fathers held a book, as they did every night during their reading time with Marina.
“I want that one,” she pointed to the book held by Azazel.
Azazel cracked its crisp binding and began to read. He placed a finger under each line, and read the text slowly and tonelessly, having to sound out some of the words. English was, of course, neither man’s first language. They both spoke and understood it better than they read or wrote it. Azazel had a further disadvantage given how different his native Cyrillic alphabet was from this. These new science books – which were written for grade levels ranging from three to six – would be a challenge.
Azazel would stumble upon a word, unsure how to pronounce it. Marina would ask for a word’s meaning, and both fathers had to admit that they were unsure. Marina did a bit of frowning and pouting, and Riptide gently told her that he didn’t like her tone and that he didn’t like to see pouting.
“What’s pouting?” Marina asked.
“Oh, it’s when a child acts like she’s upset because not everything is going her way,” Riptide said casually. “Like when she sticks out her lower lip or frowns because the world doesn’t turn on her command. In fact, I think that no one likes to see pouting.”
When Marina fell asleep, Azazel and Riptide quietly left her room, closed the door, and headed for the deck for their after-dinner drink. Azazel prepared the drinks while Riptide took a towel to wipe off the slightly wet deck furniture.
Riptide sighed as soon as Azazel sat next to him. “I worry about this every day,” he began. “Her education.”
Azazel touched his hand. “You worry too much, Janos. Marina will be fine. She has much more here than you or I had at her age. She has two parents who love her, for one thing. Neither of us had that.”
Riptide nodded at Azazel’s words. “We didn’t,” he acknowledged. “And look what happen. We each had a lot of bad years, we ended up working for that crazy man Shaw. It is a miracle we survived that, survived him.” He took a breath and began resolutely, “Marina needs school. A good school. And she needs to meet other children.” He paused. “I know you like being…reclusive. I have come to like it too. But I do not think she will be this way.” Again Riptide paused. “There is so much we can’t give her.”
“You may be a little right,” Azazel said, leaning back in his seat now. “But what can we do?” He spread his hands. He didn’t want to state the obvious, but decided to anyway. “The way I look means I have to be a recluse. Magneto and his group certainly aren’t any closer to having mutants take over the world and I doubt that it will ever happen now. And we are two men together. Raising our child together, a child who clearly has some Black ancestors too. The world hates us for being mutants and hates us just as much for being queer.” Azazel hadn’t mentally adopted the use of the word “gay”. He then concluded with, “Marina being partially Black too does not help either.”
Riptide looked down at his hands. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know. What is…what is killing me is that I feel like we can’t keep things the way they are either. We have to change something, but I don’t know how or what.”
There was one alternative, an alternative that both knew of but neither had mentioned aloud. Although they lived a reclusive life on Hestia, they still watched television and acquired the occasional newspaper. They might not speak with Angel or Magneto any more, but still had occasional contact with Mystique. They knew about Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.
“There is that school of Xavier,” Riptide began.
“Never!” Azazel responded, springing forward in his seat. “We fight with Magneto for two years. Xavier is our enemy.” Azazel spoke rapidly. “He is…’Uncle Tom’, I believe the saying is. I do not want to be friends with normal humans, do not want to fight to be peaceful with them. I do not want Marina to be in that school and be raised to be X-man. Xavier is telepath, and after all those years with Emma, I do not want my daughter around telepaths either. And we send her there – we never see her again. Xavier will corrupt her.”
“He was Mystique’s foster brother,” Riptide offered meekly, though there was no energy around his words.
“That hardly matters,” Azazel muttered, low and deep, almost sneering. “That was so long ago.”
Riptide rubbed his temples. “You’re right,” he finally said. “Xavier’s school probably isn’t the right place for her. But I still say that we cannot continue with how things are either.”
“I wish I know what to do.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Feedback appreciated.
Continue on to Chapter Six
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, or Azazel or Riptide, unfortunately.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Hestia – Chapter Five
1970
With Marina down for a nap, Azazel and Riptide enjoyed some alone-time together in their room. They hurriedly undressed. Azazel lay on his back, with Riptide above him, gently spreading kisses over his body. One of Riptide’s hands travelled lower and stroked Azazel. Azazel remained on his back, just enjoying Riptide’s efforts.
“I see you are horny,” Riptide murmured. “But you are lazy too. You are supposed to be ‘a top’, as they say.”
Azazel frowned. Well, they had been together for thirteen years now. Maybe after all of this time, one must expect bluntness. Maybe after all this time you got lazy about your marriage too.
“I am tired. And old, with many injuries from years ago that did not fully heal. And to raise Marina is difficult,” Azazel said straightforwardly. His goatee was streaked with gray.
“I know. But I miss it when you used to…to take me.”
Azazel smiled. “To ‘take you’? Are you reading – what are they called – romance novels?”
Riptide shook his head, as Azazel closed his eyes for a moment. Riptide had a point, Azazel knew. He could try a bit harder, aching muscles and fatigue aside.
“But perhaps you are right,” Azazel allowed.
With that, Azazel marshaled his energy reserves and maneuvered upwards. He flipped Riptide over, onto his stomach. Azazel licked one of Riptide’s ears while caressing his back and shoulder. His tail reached over and playfully smacked Riptide’s rear, twice. They were light blows which did not deliver any pain.
“This is more like it,” Riptide enthused. He then encouraged, “Use your hand and smack me again there, maybe a bit harder. And where is the lube?”
Azazel playfully chuckled. “You want me to ‘take you’, then I decide what we do next, no?” He reached a hand around to flick at Riptide’s nipples, eliciting a few moans.
At that moment, Marina woke up from her nap, crying loudly. Muttered, resigned swearing in Russian and Spanish followed.
When they had first adopted Marina, Azazel had first been of the mindset that when she wailed, she should “cry it out”. But Riptide had overridden him and the two men then had always rushed to tend to her when she cried.
Their intimate encounter would have to wait.
1971
“Why it rains sometimes but not always?” Marina asked.
Hestia was heading away from the rain, but light drops were falling onto the ship and spotting its windows. Marina sat with her fathers in the dry kitchen.
Azazel and Riptide looked at each other.
“It is because the weather changes,” Azazel explained. “It cannot be same every day.”
“Why?”
This was the latest in a series of questions asked by Marina which stumped her fathers. “Why is the sky blue?”, “Why do you have a tail Papa, but Daddy and I don’t?”, “Why do I need to eat vegetables?”, “What makes our boat go?”
Neither Azazel nor Riptide was highly educated, to say the least. They might have grown up far from each other in terms of distance, but they had grown up under the same squalid conditions as much of the world. Poverty and deprivation had been their daily staples, topped off with an extremely low-quality education, one that had ended early.
Later that day, Azazel teleported away and returned with a few gifts for Marina.
“I think you will like this,” Azazel said, grinning. He handed the wrapped gifts to Marina.
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, once the wrapping paper had been torn off. Marina removed some of the wrapping paper but was assisted by her fathers. “Books. I love books.”
“Not just any books,” Riptide said, excitement in his voice as he leaned down to open them with Marina. “Science books. For children. They will help you answer some of the questions you have.”
Marina flipped through the pages, frowning. The very smart girl could read a little already, though of course she required books targeted to the youngest ages for that. The first book she reached for was not only too thick and heavy, but it contained sentences far too advanced for her.
“I can’t read this!” she exclaimed, frustrated.
“Patience, my dear. You will be able to read it. You are brilliant girl,” Azazel said, patting her on the back. “Maybe not today, but you will learn to read them. They will help you with your questions.”
“Perhaps someday you will be a great scientist,” Riptide added.
“Maybe. I want to read them now. Read them to me,” Marina ordered.
“What do you say?” Riptide prompted gently, not caring for Marina’s tone of voice.
“Please.”
“We will. At bedtime,” Azazel promised. “First we must all finish our chores.”
Later, Azazel and Riptide climbed into Marina’s bed, with the girl between them. Now that Marina had been bathed, brushed her teeth, and taken a comb through her thick black hair, she was ready for bed. Each of her fathers held a book, as they did every night during their reading time with Marina.
“I want that one,” she pointed to the book held by Azazel.
Azazel cracked its crisp binding and began to read. He placed a finger under each line, and read the text slowly and tonelessly, having to sound out some of the words. English was, of course, neither man’s first language. They both spoke and understood it better than they read or wrote it. Azazel had a further disadvantage given how different his native Cyrillic alphabet was from this. These new science books – which were written for grade levels ranging from three to six – would be a challenge.
Azazel would stumble upon a word, unsure how to pronounce it. Marina would ask for a word’s meaning, and both fathers had to admit that they were unsure. Marina did a bit of frowning and pouting, and Riptide gently told her that he didn’t like her tone and that he didn’t like to see pouting.
“What’s pouting?” Marina asked.
“Oh, it’s when a child acts like she’s upset because not everything is going her way,” Riptide said casually. “Like when she sticks out her lower lip or frowns because the world doesn’t turn on her command. In fact, I think that no one likes to see pouting.”
When Marina fell asleep, Azazel and Riptide quietly left her room, closed the door, and headed for the deck for their after-dinner drink. Azazel prepared the drinks while Riptide took a towel to wipe off the slightly wet deck furniture.
Riptide sighed as soon as Azazel sat next to him. “I worry about this every day,” he began. “Her education.”
Azazel touched his hand. “You worry too much, Janos. Marina will be fine. She has much more here than you or I had at her age. She has two parents who love her, for one thing. Neither of us had that.”
Riptide nodded at Azazel’s words. “We didn’t,” he acknowledged. “And look what happen. We each had a lot of bad years, we ended up working for that crazy man Shaw. It is a miracle we survived that, survived him.” He took a breath and began resolutely, “Marina needs school. A good school. And she needs to meet other children.” He paused. “I know you like being…reclusive. I have come to like it too. But I do not think she will be this way.” Again Riptide paused. “There is so much we can’t give her.”
“You may be a little right,” Azazel said, leaning back in his seat now. “But what can we do?” He spread his hands. He didn’t want to state the obvious, but decided to anyway. “The way I look means I have to be a recluse. Magneto and his group certainly aren’t any closer to having mutants take over the world and I doubt that it will ever happen now. And we are two men together. Raising our child together, a child who clearly has some Black ancestors too. The world hates us for being mutants and hates us just as much for being queer.” Azazel hadn’t mentally adopted the use of the word “gay”. He then concluded with, “Marina being partially Black too does not help either.”
Riptide looked down at his hands. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know. What is…what is killing me is that I feel like we can’t keep things the way they are either. We have to change something, but I don’t know how or what.”
There was one alternative, an alternative that both knew of but neither had mentioned aloud. Although they lived a reclusive life on Hestia, they still watched television and acquired the occasional newspaper. They might not speak with Angel or Magneto any more, but still had occasional contact with Mystique. They knew about Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.
“There is that school of Xavier,” Riptide began.
“Never!” Azazel responded, springing forward in his seat. “We fight with Magneto for two years. Xavier is our enemy.” Azazel spoke rapidly. “He is…’Uncle Tom’, I believe the saying is. I do not want to be friends with normal humans, do not want to fight to be peaceful with them. I do not want Marina to be in that school and be raised to be X-man. Xavier is telepath, and after all those years with Emma, I do not want my daughter around telepaths either. And we send her there – we never see her again. Xavier will corrupt her.”
“He was Mystique’s foster brother,” Riptide offered meekly, though there was no energy around his words.
“That hardly matters,” Azazel muttered, low and deep, almost sneering. “That was so long ago.”
Riptide rubbed his temples. “You’re right,” he finally said. “Xavier’s school probably isn’t the right place for her. But I still say that we cannot continue with how things are either.”
“I wish I know what to do.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Feedback appreciated.
Continue on to Chapter Six
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 03:41 am (UTC)And them teaching Marina, Azazel struggling with reading... it touched me and broke my heart at the same time. I'm really looking forward to seeing how they(you!) resolve this.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 10:43 am (UTC)