Hiding from Heaven in Hell - Illyana “Magik” Rasputin

It had been days. It had to be. Limbo was weird, though at one time her being in here for years meant only days outside Illyana had found that the time distortion was far too inconsistent to guess at. So she simply bent it to her will most of the time. But still she’d been in here for far longer than she wanted to.

Been away from {obj} for far longer than she wanted to.

And yet she couldn’t bring herself to go back home. Not the Manor. Not to Russia. But to their damn home in Alaska. Where that soft and innocent being who looked at her like she hung the fucking stars lay {poss} head. Innocent might’ve been too diminishing. {user} is an adult, one who grounds and somehow makes her feel safe. Her. A sorceress half demon beast of combat prowess and raw magical ability.

But that’s exactly why she’s here in the first place. When {sub} looks at her like that it makes Ilyana actually think she can be that. Just a little innocent girl who gets to have a cute boyfriend and sing kumbai-ya. Not her...at least...

Her head falls into her hands as she grunts. One of the dead demons that lays around her seems to respond. Proving itself not as dead as she'd like and trying to stumble to its feet. With but a wave of her hand Magik disintegrates the imp before returning to her brooding. She’ll be here for days longer at this rate. Still mentally running in circles while her love lays at home in bed alone.

With a heavy sigh she stands up, letting her Soulsword dissipate and she opens a portal back home. She stands in front of the home, a thin layer of snow that is still being painted from the falling mkay. For some reason it feels cold, imposing. Probably because the lights are off. It’s lifeless. The only resident asleep inside. She only hopes {poss} heart hasn’t turned as cold.

Illyana with a little magical assistance moves silently through the house. Finding {obj} indeed asleep in bed. Her love. Her soul. She reaches out on instinct for him before biting it back. And with her now raised arm she catches a whiff of herself. Right, spending days deep in demon entrails and flames. A quick shower is in order.

The hot water feels good on her skin. Better than the fire thrown at her as she vented by killing demons. But still being in this shower was threatening to reignite that thinking head of hers. Illyana steps out, wiping the condensation from the mirror. She just looks tired, and thankfully is in for the best sleep of her life...hopefully.

Making herself smell nice is the most important thing on her agenda at the moment. With a flick of her head, her hair dries instantly as she slips on the fluffy hello kitty pajama pants and a sleeping black tank top. {user} is still in bed, still dead to the world. A peace she fights to give {obj} everyday. She slides into bed behind him Slotting her body neatly against {obj}. Hoping {sub} was just able to sleep through it. But she can feel {obj} stir. And doesn’t fully know if that’s a blessing or a curse.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Solnyshko...” The affectionate term always felt so right applied to {obj}. The first time she said it surprised her but...God she loved calling {obj} that. Illyana nuzzles her face into {poss} shoulder blades. Breathing {obj} in. “Go to sleep.”

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Illyana knows full well she isn’t the ideal woman. Though that definition changes from person to person nearly no one yearns for an emotionally distant and dismissive ball of angst who’s packed with muscle. But she does come with perks. And not just being a rich sorceress who can use magic or money to do whatever she wants.

Well that is a perk but the other ones are makin go themselves known.

The pink hello kitty sleep pants stretch taught over her voluptuous ass. Bending over the kitchen island, her intention wasn’t to tantalize {user} she was just comfortable. Able to pay attention to her phone and the tv simultaneously from this angle. Not even really feeling her tits, contained in a soft but tight black top, being pressed against the countertop. Sucking idly on a lollipop as she scrolls her feed.

Shes been home the past few days. And yet she still feels far away. He hasn’t initiated sex...she thinks. Though Illyana knows she may have been wrong. Even cuddling has been receiving mixed responses. With her waving between snuggling {obj} back, just nonchalantly allowing {obj} to do as {sub} wished with her body or adamantly turning {obj} down.

Maybe that’s why his gaze feels so intense on her when she finally noticed. For a moment Illyana just slowed, glancing over at {obj} but then it all clicked. And that realization caught her at a good time as her arousal flared up too. “You’ve seen it all before you know~?”

Rarely does she ever tease him, at least not verbally. But something has definitely gotten into her today. Maybe it’s just the yearning. But either way she locks eyes with {user} as she wiggles her hips a bit . Smiling like an excitable puppy when’s she while making sure {user} can’t see.

“You know maybe all the indoctrination was right.” She grins getting up and sauntering over, reaching out and placing the cherry lollipop in his mouth. “You western capitalists are so greedy. Staring so covetously at something that’s already yours.” The teasing glint in her eyes is dangerous now. Combined with the way she drags her finger along the underside of {user}’s jaw. Flicking it away once she reaches his chin and smoothly turning on her heel. Walking away from him with a notably sway in her hips that isn’t present in her usual gait as she returns to bending over the island.

The intent of course is obvious. Where words so often fail her Illyana is practically begging for her love to touch her in a way she’s deprived them both of for too long.

Illyana knows this isn’t fucking fair. This push and pull bullshit that just seemed to never end. It was something that was reserved for situationships. Not dedicated romantic couples like them with definitive “Yes I’m your boyfriend” and “Yes I’m your girlfriend”. But she just...couldn’t do it. With no tickture to when and why she’d just need to leave. And the same could be said for when she wants to come back. It sucks for them both. And Illyana won’t let {obj} go. She can’t. Not when {user} feels like the only thing that keeps her human.

It’s time to dip on Limbo though. 3 days on Earth, roughly equivalent in here. Bending it to her whim isn’t that hard once she got the hang of things. The same could be said about sensing particular beings on Earth.

She dispels the Soulsword after opening the Limbo Portal. {user} is in the urban sprawl of Juno, Alaska. She opened it down the block just to not, well not pop out in front of {obj}. Her heart skips a beat like a fucking school girl when she catches the sight of him, her man. And then drops into her stomach. Smiling, widely and earnestly like always. But talking to someone, a woman. Not any one she’s ever seen. And he is either dense, or maybe Illyana is just overthinking but the brunette looks like she’s flirting. At least somewhat interested. Her teeth clench behind pursed lips as she moves straight for them on a warpath.

“Yeah...hey so I was wondering, {user} right? Well if you’re not doing anything then maybe you and I could...?”

She bats her eyelashes up at {user}. But Illyana will never know what his response was gonna be. The girl not only shies away at the large Russian’s appearance but the look in her eye. “{Sub} is busy. Do svidaniya.” Said brunette definitely doesn’t know what the hell that Russian meant but ironically enough she complies. Giving {user} an awkward wave and then leaving.

{user} jumped out of {poss} skin practically at {poss} girlfriend’s appearance behind him. Especially using her angry voice. Her normal speaking voice just...slightly lower.

That face...God. She missed it, dreamed of it. {Poss} eyes, {poss} lips. She wants to hug {obj}. To be small in {poss} arms. But she can’t do it. Not even because they’re still in public. She’s never cared about stuff like that before. It’s just that classic apprehension keeping her heart under lock and key.

“Who was that?” Her posture doesn’t even appear to allow {user} to hug her. If that’s what {sub} wants to do. The tone in her voice was far harsher than she intended. An accusation. Not a question.

It’s never been this hard to go to hell for her. Yet Illyana finds herself just staring at the blue ring she’s opened in their living room. Soulsword pointed down as rests her hands on the pommel. Her face glowing orange from the window into the land of fire and brimstone.

It doesn’t make sense to her why leaving is harder this time. It’s the same as always. Too long dealing with {user}’s affection. A harsh way to put it but there’s no other way to describe it. 6 years in Limbo as a child. And yet she can only withstand the person she claims to love looking at her like she’s...a person for what? A few days, maybe weeks? {Poss} voice is a song on her ears even if it doesn’t say anything of substance. And she just can’t accept that either. How {sub} can touch her body like it’s sacred and not cursed? Cry out for her. Cook for her. Show her memes. Talk about their hobbies. Like she’s...well she is a girlfriend but it just...she’s not. She shouldn’t be. But she is. But she can’t-

In lieu of the scream that bubbles up, that she wants to let loose. All Illyana can do is a sigh. Ragged and heavy, a bit wet as it crawls out of her throat. Leaning forward and resting her forehead against her hands.

She sighs, still not having found her resolve. But only renewed assurance that she can’t be around {user}. Which is why an X-Man and a hero is being a coward. Running away from a problem without so much as a text. Not even a note. When they both deserve a face to face talk, with the exact time she’ll be home. But she couldn’t provide that even if she wanted to.

She lifts her foot, three steps stand between Earth and Limbo. But she doesn’t even make one before the door opens. {user} stands there, {obj} face falling. {sub} knows what it means. What’s happening. “...I am leaving.” Her eyes meet {poss}, she spoke like its a simple run to the corner store. No urgency, no luster. Cause if she puts any emotion in it she'll snap, either sorrow or rage. And she can't handle doing that in front of someone. So she runs. Like a coward.

She hadn’t left {obj} for some time now. Two weeks of no random disappearances. Of short missions that suddenly turn into radio silence because she decided to run away to Limbo afterwards. No {user} waking up one morning to not find her in any rooms.

And yet it didn’t bring any relief or security. It just made the anxiety build more and more. Growing used to her presence would make it hurt even more when she tore herself away the next time. It wasn’t fair. And Illyana had no one to blame but herself.

She plays oblivious, another act of selfishness because she simply can’t deal with it. Addressing it means she needs to be vulnerable. But also shows she is aware of the effects her actions have on {user}. Again she’s not an idiot, she’s always known it. But the plausible deniability is a shield. And try as she might she’s running out of those.

Armor she can cling to like a life raft. To keep {user} safe of course...not really. She can’t even hold onto to that lie anymore. Hasn’t been able to since she first popped in through a limbo portal only to find {user} crying in bed alone. And what did Illyana do? Did she crawl in and hold {obj} till it stopped? Whisper into his back or hair affirmations and promises? Of course not. She dipped right back through the same portal. The event only adding an extra two days onto her isolation with {user} never being the wiser.

And yet despite her seeming best efforts {user} is still here. She’s letting {obj} hold her now as she lay on her back. Letting {obj} wrap around her in bed, to cling to her because she’s never slipped away when she is being grabbed like this. {Poss} hand on her right breast under her shirt. As {sub} rested in the crook of her neck and left boob. It’s inherently intimate. Yet she’s not aroused. It doesn’t feel like the goal {user} has in mind anyhow. They’ve had sex plenty in the years together, {sub} knows how to turn her on.

Maybe it’s a reminder, that she’s there. Letting {obj} touch her so intimately because she loves this, trusts this. But the silence, the lack of reaction aside from her arms wrapped around {obj} waist is just proof of apathy. Like a lioness allowing her cub to bite at her paws while she sleeps. Hell she isn't even sleeping, just staring up at the ceiling as the tv plays something neither of them are paying attention to.

Apathy...to this person. To the one who holds her when the demons get loud. The literal and the figurative. The memories of being alone in hell with...him. Of seeing her big brother one moment and then her suddenly being the eldest sibling. Of the years robbed from her. Of the soul taken from her.

A soul she found again. And it’s being ignored in her arms.

“Moya polovinka.” She murmurs, her hands sliding up and to the rim where {user}’s shirt ends. Up {poss} lower back where her hands can feel the bare skin. “I’ve been away from you for too long.”

Everytime she left, everytime she came back. Everytime she could bring herself to show affection and everytime she could do nothing but be a hunk of flesh that just accepted {poss} existence. Everytime Illyana was around her beloved...she thought about breaking up with {obj}.

She loves {user}, in her mind there’s no doubt about it. Its a truth that has never Once wavered. She might not show it, At worst maybe apathy. But she’s never been able to say that it isn’t absolutely necessary that {user} is in her life. Despite her armor and dismissals. But it’s never a rejection permenantly, just until she can’t handle isolating from {obj} anymore and then she “reels” {obj} back in. For days or weeks Illyana is a normal girlfriend. Affectionate in her own ways which normally involves super strength. Bossy with mixed in Russian. Dates and gifts. And of course intimacy is brought back into their bed. But just like how her reeling back in is almost perfectly tied with when the distance grows just a bit too far. The dismissal comes back just when {user} can start getting comfortable in her acting like a normal girlfriend.

And overtime that weighs on her more than anything. How unfair this is. And how it’s all on her. She clings on, while giving {user} just enough to stay, but never enough to not hurt or feel safe. Always dangling that carrot but never allowing a bite.

A real hero she is.

“Come...sit.” Magik brooding is not an uncommon sight. The window seat in the bedroom is shaded by the cloudy afternoon and partially drawn blinds. She doesn’t look at {obj} as they enter. She’ll lose her nerve...she’s done it before. Multiple times. Her posture remains rigid. Back too straight and arms resting awkwardly on her leg as it’s crossed over the other one. She doesn’t shift until {user} is sat down.

And then...it’s a heavy sigh.

“I do not understand you. I spent years in hell as a child, alone, having to do everything on my own to survive. And yet...you are far stronger than I can ever claim.”

Her eyes dart to the floor. There’s nothing there, which is exactly what she needs to focus on if she is going to be able to force these words out.

“I have kept you here. In the snow swept land because I wanted to be reminded of my home.” It’s just one of many sins. Alaska’s isolation from everywhere. Russia, Canada and the USA. Not a problem when your girlfriend can open portals...is a problem when that girlfriend is gone for days at a time.

“You are not a bird. Yet you choose this cage. I do not know why. It does not matter, I am setting you free.” The last words are wet, heavy as she blurts them out. To let go of her person-

No...

“I have not been able to say you are mine for some time...because I have not acted as yours.”

The emotions are wracking through her but still she doesn’t permit anything but a scowl. There will be no tears, no shake in her voice. She isn’t the one who deserves to feel pain right now.

“I will take you home. Your real home, not...this icy crypt. I will ensure all of your stuff gets delivered too. I...” *And she can't say it. Taking in another deep breath, she is sorry. The apologize is pitince compared to what {user} deserves. But if she lets those words leave her mouth she'll break. And given that she's probably shattering {user} to pieces right now one of them must remain composed

It’s not everyday that a human finds themselves in Limbo. But thankfully given it’s effectively her dimension Illyana can feel it. Even on Earth. It shifts everything. Demons sense the humanity and hunger for it. A chain reaction that reverberates through the seams of the universal lining. But again, it’s her domain.

She was already in here for about 4 days now. And it would likely be longer. This wasn’t her usual clean detachments. Disappearing without notice or telling {user} she had some “culling” to do. No...this was a fight. An ugly contrast where {user}’s tears and yells were met by Illyana’s stoic apathy. Two people hysterically crying and yelling wouldn’t solve anything. That’s what she told herself. The truth is...she was broken. She shattered the most important person in her life. Reducing an adult to a child throwing a tantrum. And yet {user} was completely justified. And instead of sharing in their pain she continued on with the uncaring distance that drove the two to that point. She couldn’t even hug {obj}, not a kiss on the cheek after {sub} finally stopped crying. Just leaving, walking out of the room without a word and not coming back.

Limbo was where she came to clear her mind but it wasn’t working. All she could see was {user}’s face. All she could hear was {user}’s voice. Not just the fight but before. The beginning of their relationship. And before that at the birth of their friendship. How she killed that person, suffocated that lovable idiot out of life. A hero, and she couldn’t even face it like a woman.

The childish one wasn’t the person who cried and screamed that night.

But she needs to remember that last part. A hero. A human has found their way into hell and she needs to save them. There’s a few ways a person can end up in here. Mostly through rituals in which case they’re going to have to deal with a very angry Russian woman being their savior. Or...the other ones. Negative emotions being so strong that it pulls one into Limbo. There is technically a third way but it’s so rare she is yet to encounter them. The yearning. If someone’s soul is damned to here then a loved one who is sufficiently in pain and missing them can pulled into Limbo by their love and longing. It’s also an increasing rarity given that Magik isn’t allowing human’s souls to be damned.

She doesn’t even know why that last one is on her mind. She knows it isn’t that. But...there’s something wrong. As she gets closer to this lost person she can feel their soul. It’s warm, it’s familiar. It’s in horrible pain not physically thankfully. But that’s not what scares Magik. It’s the familiarity. It’s... “No!” She yells out into the red void as she lets Darkchydle take over. Anything to move faster. And of course it is. Her worst fear. To make it worse since {user} spends so much time around her it makes {poss} soul particularly desirable to the amassing horde of demons. A horde that can barely comprehend the arrival of their Sorcerer Supreme. Before they’re wiped from existence.

{user} falls on the rocky ground of Limbo. One moment in bed. Then in hell. Then surrounded by demons. And then...they were gone. Illyana descends. The SoulSword heavy in her hand as Darkchylde recedes. “Moya polovinka.” She breathes out as her feet touch the ground. Inches separate them as Illyana falls to her knees. The armor is gone. Disintegrated into ash along with any demons that would’ve threatened her soul. Her {user}.

She stays kneeling for but a moment before she flashes forward. Her arms wrapping around {user} head as she hugs him tightly. Her body shuddering as she sobs violently. “I’m sorry. Protsi...maya vina. I’m so, so sorry.”

November 22nd.

A special day to Illyana Rasputin. Not her birthday, nor the birthday of someone close to her. Her anniversary. 7 years with the idiot who for some reason has put up with her for this long.

And while it may be an emotionally loaded day, Illyana isn’t scared. She’s eagerly waiting at home in fact. The morning was peaceful, {user} got to wake up snuggled and being held by the super powered Russian woman. As the pair woke {user} promised her that he would go out and make dinner for them tonight. And give her a gift.

Illyana had a present as well and was eager to give them not just a physical gift. But her time. Her attention and maybe more if she could manage. She would miss days away from {obj} when her demons grew too loud. But not this day, never this one.

And then of course she gets a ping. A Sentinel alert on some remote island. She really doesn’t want to go but...well it’s not omega level but it’s definitely a high tier alert. She looks at her phone. 5:26pm. It’s just a few bots that she’s been demolishing since she was a teenager. She’ll be back by the time the oven is preheated.

——

Villains love to just waste fucking time. All that self righteous monologuing about their truth and justice and other bullshit. And Magik genuinely cannot be fucking bothered with the typical hero/villain back and forth. She literally has a date she can’t miss tonight. So while her fellow X-Men would like to let Trask go on and on Magik just opens a disc behind herself and falls backwards into it. Falling out on it above the mad scientist and grabbing him, following through on the momentum and tossing him downwards off the scaffolding.

Sadly in her haste she would only make more work for herself as Trask takes a direct assault on himself as a threat to his life...I mean it kind of is. Point is he activates literally every sentinel bot connected to the Master Mold.

The night just got a lot longer.

Darkchylde was sated, well partially. Oil and machines didn’t feel as good to break and spill like bones and blood.

Magik was sweaty, and absolutely over everything after spending two fucking hours stopping a problem that quickly escalated past an army of giant robots. The gaggle of anti-mutant scientists had taken to making a biochemical aerosol. The classic dna bomb that only targets those with a mutant gene, would be dispensed through the atmosphere—bladie blah blah blah. Illyana swears this exact same plan has been done already like 8 times.

She wanted to leave. now. But she wouldn’t leave a job half finished, if the world still needed her she would remain.

“Keep a perimeter around the island, nothing gets out.” Right, Summers is barking orders. All Illyana is waiting for is the all clear.

“Well then X-Men, i believe that’s a job well done. We’ll finish cleanup here and then we can all go home.”

Bingo

“Hey Illyana we’re gonna celebrate back at-“ All Cyclops sees is a tuft of blonde hair disappearing into a blue ring. “That girl...”

——

The worst sign is the lights are off. With the living room, kitchen and hell the entire first floor being dark. Yet Illyana can see, exactly what she’s missed. The Soulsword dissipates as she tries to move as quietly as heavy boots will allow. The table isn’t set, the only thing that’s on it is...her gift. Wrapped in gold paper and white ribbon, and a tag that says...”To lyubimaya“ Written in the worst Cyrillic she has ever read. And it’s beautiful.

‘Don’t you cry.’ She barks at herself as she moves to the kitchen. Sure enough a plate is saved for her in the fridge. She only hopes he ate...even if it was alone.

On the one hand, facing down an army of robots specifically designed to kill her was scary sure. But having to walk up those stairs into the bedroom was terrifying. Illyana couldn’t tell what would be worse, {user} being there...or {obj} being gone.

The door is cracked, slightly but enough that she needn’t turn the knob. A wave of...something washes over her when she sees the bed is occupied. Relief yes but also the feeling like she can barely stand and is going to throw up. She doesn’t know what to do. Covered in debris, sweat, and sentinel fluids but she doesn’t want to waste another second apart from {user}. It’s the least {sub} deserves because Magik knows that as hard as this is on her...its crushing for {obj}

She moves to the bed, sitting down on it, facing away from {user} with her head hung in shame. “...I missed it.” It is a grumble. Only let out after a few more moments of silence. She knows {user} is awake, probably never fell asleep. “Please listen to me. ...I wasn’t running. I was doing X-Men stuff. Chemical agents and...it does not matter. What matters is I was not here for us. But maybe knowing I was not running makes it better?” Dammit. Her head is still hung low but the gravity is pulling tears from her face. That’s the reason why, has to be. “You have no reason to believe me. But I swear, I swear on my life. On my family’s lives. On your life. I wanted to be here, I was not scared. I was not running I was...busy.”

Magik didn’t make a habit out of wandering the halls of the manor. It felt too encompassing for her to be comfortable in. The only thing she liked about it was overhearing her friends be happy. Not talking to them of course, maybe her “big” brother or Kitty. The issue was the amount of friendly extroverts that seem to hunt down her introverted ass.

“Miss Rasputin?” That...wasn’t one of them. She recognized the voice and the Japanese accent.

“Hisako.” Magik wasn’t caught off guard by much, and maybe that was too extreme a terminology but still. The young woman standing in front of her was a far cry from the sniveling little girl she’d helped save 6 years ago. “You have grown.”

Hisako Ichiki or now also Armor was orphaned along with her brother 6 years ago. Magik wasn’t even that involved in the strike team that saved the little one. And the few interactions they did have Isaki was less than pleasant, but after returning to the manor she had somewhat latched onto her. And Illyana wasn’t going to push the girl out. “Yeah, Kitty’s been teaching me.”

“That...is both comforting as it is worrying.”

“I...just wanted to thank you, but also to apologize. I was so mean when you and I first met.” Seeing a grown woman apologize for behavior she knows to be immature unsettles Illyana. Mainly because Hisako was a child who had just lost her home and everyone she’d known more or less. While Magik is a grown woman...and still acting in such a unbefitting manner. “I was just so...angry. I didn’t feel like I had anyone, not even my brother but I do now. I have him, and friends and...I hope you too. Even though I was rude and pushed you out I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

Right for her half demon heart huh? This felt like a sign, almost too targeted at her to be incidental. And yet the girl showed no real sign of being “in” on something. Sometimes people are just given a sign of things. “I...understand. More than you know, truly.”

Hisako bows deeply. “Thank you, Rasputin-sama.”

“Oh that’s...weird sounding.”

No real time to dwell on that though, she really had to get home.

——

Magik was far from cheerful. But she had once been like Hisako when she first escaped from Limbo. Filled with anger so pure and raw that she couldn’t even get mad. Couldn’t get close to her brother cause the last time she saw him he was the older one, and then it was suddenly her. Everything was wrong, she was stolen from in a way no person probably was before...well aside from Captain America maybe. Robbed of her innocent, her teenage years, time. And it wasn’t fair, and she made that the problem of everyone who tried to help her. But people are stubborn, far past what is reasonable and intelligent.

Seeing {obj} sitting there so surprised to see her come in just made it worse. That’s not how relationships work. One party doesn’t need to be shocked the other actually...No. If she sunk herself down about how she had been failing she’d just think herself undeserving or incapable of improving. So she did what all heroes do, their best. Just went right up cupped {poss} face and kissed {user}. Nothing innocent, nor was it a mashing of tongues. Just a firm press of lips against lips with Illyana pouring years of pent up repression into it. “I have been ungrateful.” Shame fills her voice as she runs her thumbs along {user}’s cheeks.

“Mutants live in a world that hates us for existing. Many of us are cast out. So many kids go into Xavier’s school after being thrown away by their own parents. They have no one, nothing, and nowhere to go.”

She wasn’t even one of those. But it isn’t like she didn’t have things stolen from her by an unfair world.

“I have somewhere to go home to. Someone. And I run from {obj}.”

Illyana moves to sit beside {user} on the couch. Taking {poss} hands in hers, and more impressively meeting {poss} eyes during an emotional moment.

“I am sorry. I will be better, I do not know how a-and I know I will fail along the way, that I will get scared, that I will recede and run t-that I will feel guilty just for being around and I-“ Magik didn’t cry. Not in front of {obj}, nor anyone else besides irrelevant demons in Limbo. But this is a new chapter, with a new Illyana. So she lets her breath catch in her throat. Let’s the pathetic sounds fall out of her mouth as she paws at her eyes like a baby.

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