#as soon as I feel true genuine distress I think huh. I should read about the distress of two idiots instead

[couthbbg]

im ready to move on and be hurt in new and fun ways :)

[ellewords]

his smile is colder than you remember. or maybe it’s his eyes. his once vibrantly warm brown eyes now look a little dead.

“tooru, hi!” you chirp nervously, looking around the large cafe like there might be more people to recognize while you grip the hot cup of tea in your hands tightly despite the way it was beginning to burn your palms through the sturdy paper. “when... when did you get back from argentina?”

he doesn’t respond at first, gaze penetrating your face, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to take in your aged features or make you uncomfortable. you figure it’s the latter when you start to squirm and only then does he look satisfied enough to speak.

“i’m just visiting for a few weeks. needed a break. how have you been?” he asks kindly, but something in his tone is just a little bit off. strained even.

“i’ve been... i’ve been good, actually,” you mutter, huffing a tiny laugh as you realize that it feels true for once. “just got my dream job, so things are probably going to get hectic pretty soon, but i’m excited, you know? it’s what i’ve been working for for years.”

oikawa looks like he wants to smile—a real, genuine smile where the corners of his eyes wrinkle slightly and his cheeks flush a pretty pink from how wide it is and his face eases up just a tiny bit—but he hesitates, biting his lip instead.

“that’s amazing, (y/n),” he says, and try as he might, he can’t hide the affection coating his words. “i’m so proud of you. we, we should celebrate. i know you must’ve worked hard for it, so let me treat you.”

your cheeks warm at the offer, nodding happily. maybe things aren’t as tense as you thought.

“that would be great! how long are you here for? we should make sure it isn’t too close to your leaving day so you don’t stress—“

“babe!” a voice calls suddenly, and you perk up immediately at its familiarity.

you turn in search of the person, and you can’t help the grin you shoot them. you wave frantically before holding up a finger to indicate that you would be just a few minutes more. they nod in understanding, and you watch as they point in the direction of a corner where you can see your things and theirs lying on top of a booth. making sure you see, they wait until you nod in confirmation, smiling one more time, before they head in the direction of the table.

your smile shrinks slightly as they walk away, but the fondness doesn’t. shaking your head as if to rearrange your thoughts, you turn back to oikawa.

his eyes are dead again, but they aren’t looking at you anymore. instead, they follow your partner as they move through the crowd of people in the cafe. then he scoffs softly, and he returns your gaze.

“so you really did it, huh?” there’s a bite in the way he says it, and you gasp softly at his change in demeanor.

it reminds you of the bitter, insecure boy you met in middle school. the boy you saw wandering the halls with a fake air around him, one of confidence and power. the boy who looked like he would crack if you stared at him too long, if you bothered to try to get to know him more than he allowed. the boy he was around you before you fell in love.

“did what?” you ask cautiously.

he scoffs again, and now his lips are pulled back in that domineering, sugary sweet grin he developed in high school. you hate that grin.

“you moved on.”

and it hits you like an icicle to the heart, the coldness of his voice.

“yeah. isn’t that,” you trail off before starting again. “you told me to, tooru, so i did. what’s wrong with that?”

you want to throw your tea when he scoffs once again, like you’re stupid for not understanding why he’s acting so weird.

“there’s nothing wrong with that,” he says. “it’s just funny, is all. weren’t you the one who said you would never let go?”

the cup in your hand caves slightly as your grip squeezes tighter around it. the liquid inside splashes over the edge just a little, and you hiss when it lands on your thumb.

“that... that was a long time ago. before you left,” you say, and you hate that it sounds like you’re trying to justify some wrongdoing because you haven’t done anything wrong.

“i know. i just figured you’d actually stick to it. i, i just, i guess i should have known you wouldn’t stick around.”

the cup crushes in your hand, but this time, you don’t feel the sting of the tea meeting your skin. your mind races too much.

he’s doing that thing he used to do in high school, you realize, when he was hurt but didn’t want to confront it. the thing where he would say things, things he didn’t mean, so that he could hurt you in the same way he was hurting. the thing he didn’t always realize he was doing. he just desperately wanted to be the one with the upper hand, and as much as he cared about people, he cared about protecting himself more.

you’d fallen victim to that thing a number of times back then when you knew that he needed the support to get through it. he just needed someone to care enough to help him. you could understand him then. but now...

now you didn’t understand him at all.

“no,” you spit out, and he jumps at the way the cup crumbles in your hands, and he jumps again when he hears the frustration in your voice.

“no, you don’t get to be mad at me when you’re the one who decided to leave. i was willing to come with you and support you and stay by your side, but it was you that told me not to. and still! still, i said i would wait for you, until you were ready to have me again, but there were no calls, no messages, no letters, no nothing!

“and i saw you, on your socials! you looked happy. happier than you ever did here. you looked so happy, and you looked like, like, you looked like you had moved on. from japan, from the past, from... from me... so yeah, i figured it was time i did the same, because if you were happy, than i was happy. that’s all i ever wanted for you, tooru, and you were, so it seemed fitting that i let go.

“but i refuse to be made to feel bad when this is what you said you wanted from me! i spent months wondering if i made the right choice when i let you get on that plane all alone, if there was more that i could have done to make you realize how much i cared, and supported you, and loved you! and i’ve finally realized that i did enough! that we just weren’t meant to be. i moved on because you did. because i was ready to.

“so no, tooru, you don’t get to be upset about how everything played out. you don’t get to be upset with me.”

your chest is heaving by the time you’re finished. it almost hurts to breathe, but you don’t have time to think about that because the noise of the cafe surges back into your ears. you look around, suddenly embarrassed about your outburst, but you’re relieved to see that no one is focused on your words. they’re all frantic about your hands and the tea that spilled to the floor, steam still floating up from the puddle that formed at your feet.

except oikawa. his cheeks are that pretty pink you used to love, and his mouth is opening and closing like a fish. he’s staring at you with those same dead eyes, but for a second, you think you see something flicker in them. he opens his mouth, this time looking like he’s going to say something, but before he has the chance, another distressed voice cuts in.

“oh my gosh, love, your hands!” your partner yelps, suddenly by your side, fumbling clumsily as they throw your things over their shoulder so they can tend to you. “oh gosh, um, excuse me, can you grab some of those napkins for us, please?”

they’re talking to oikawa, who seems to blink out of his daze just then before grabbing a handful of napkins to give them.

your partner taps the napkins across your hands desperately, and they’re holding you so gently and with so much care that you finally feel the burn of the fallen tea. thankfully, the burn isn’t anything too serious, but the skin throbs visibly and aches slightly. your eyes water. they notice.

“hey, no, it’s alright, okay? look at me, love. i’ll get you another one, okay, but first i need to make sure you’re okay,” they mutter to you, eyes darting across your face with worry.

you sniffle, shaking your head instantly, and then you lean heavily into their side. you’re tired and your eyes hurt and your chest feels so tight, and you just want to go home. it’s almost as if they can read your mind because before you can utter the words, they’re mumbling into your hair that they’ll make you some at home instead. they start to guide you to the exit; with every step away from the scene you had made, you feel lighter.

you had loved tooru, all those years ago, and you had wanted him to come back for so long. you’d hoped that one day he would wake up and realize how much you yearned to be with him, or that he should call you just to see how you were. you’d hoped that he would realize he still felt the same way you did. but you could only put up with so much, after being left in the dark for so long, after dreaming for so long, after being disappointed for so long. you realized that now.

you were happy now, even if it wasn’t by his side.

oikawa can see it, the happiness that follows the two of you out the door. he longs for it, but he doesn’t move in pursuit of it. instead, when the two of you are finally out of sight, oikawa allows another scoff to fall past his lips, but this time, tears fall from his eyes as well.

-💛

— from elle ! this was pure pain but in the best possible way ?? like wow 💛anon you are absolutely amazing and talented please this made my heart actually ache oh gosh ;-; you are so so good i don’t think words are enough to describe you aaaaa !! anyways for my addition (under the cut as always), i decided to do a lil flashback before oikawa decided to come back. i was v intrigued by oikawa leaving reader in the dark so this scenario stemmed from that. idk if this will help, but i listened to taylor swift’s i almost do on repeat while writing

notes / warnings : timeskip!oikawa x gn!reader, scenario, angst, wc: ~1k (perhaps my longest margins entry ??)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Twenty-seven. 

You’ve reached out to him twenty-seven times today. This included calls, text messages, and voice memos.  

They were always sweet; always checking up on him, asking how he is, if he’s getting along with his new team, if practice was tiring, if he was taking care of himself. You always thought of him first, put him above yourself. Oikawa knows it shouldn’t be that way, but the small, selfish part of himself couldn’t help but love it. Him being oceans away didn’t seem to change that. 

The front door shuts just as his phone lights up, your name appearing on the lock screen. The heart by your name taunts him, reminding him of what once was. Oikawa’s eyes scan over your text message, tears pricking at the corners. He’s unsure if it’s from the brightness of the screen contrasting with the darkness of his apartment, or your words. Possibly both. 

[ y/n <3 : it’s getting late over there, i hope you’re getting some rest. take care… ]

Oikawa bites his lip, closing out the notification as soon as he finished reading, immediately regretting it. His lock screen is still a picture of the two of you, mocking him. But if he shut his eyes tight enough, he could almost imagine it.

The pale blue sky, the sun shining down on the two of you, the cool breeze blowing through his hair, the smile that spread across your face, the faint pink flush on his features, his arm around your shoulders, the way you leaned into his touch. Your presence is warmth, your eyes brought him comfort, your hand resting on his cheek gave him peace.

His phone pings again, snapping Oikawa out of his trance. Another message.

[ y/n <3 : i love you. ]  

Twenty-nine. 

Twenty-nine calls, texts, and voice messages. You’ve reached out to him twenty-nine times today. Yesterday you reached out to him thirty-five times. Last week it was at fifty. 

But Oikawa Tooru didn’t answer a single one. 

A sigh leaves him, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He doesn’t bother turning the lights on, the quiet sounds of his shoes hitting the wooden floor fill the room. Oikawa’s steps are slow, like each one physically pained him to take. Nighttime was always the hardest to bear, the most difficult to resist. It’s when the temptation to call you is at its peak.

Oikawa stands in front of his living room window, hands in his pockets. The view of the city never failed to take his breath away; bright lights from the buildings that towered over the hundreds of people on the street, their nights only beginning as they hopped from one bar to another. Practice was too much today, his body beaten and bruised from the long hours of setting, receiving, blocking, and serving. There’s a strain in his muscles that he can’t shake off, and if it weren’t for that he would have been part of the city nightlife too.

Nights are the hardest. He doesn’t have volleyball or his teammates to keep him occupied. He’s not dancing his heart out with strangers who vaguely recognize him, music blaring in his ears, taking pictures to post on social media the very next day. Night are the hardest because his mind always leads him to you. 

Midnight for him meant that it was midday for you. Have you eaten yet? How is work treating you? Are you getting along with your coworkers? …did you think of him like he always thought of you? Questions that he could have the answers to within a few seconds; all he had to do was reach for his phone, look for your name — the only one with a heart next to it, and press the call button.

Instead, Oikawa reads through your texts. The ones where you ask him how he’s doing, the ones where you quickly summarize your day, the ones where you tell him you love him. His heart flutters before it aches, the grip on his phone tightening. 

His heart has always belonged to you, Oikawa knew it from the very day you met. He knew it when he confessed. He knew it when he asked you to be his. He knew it as you went on dates, as you celebrated anniversaries. He knew it through every fight, in every kiss. He knew it when he got on the plane that took him miles away from you.

Oikawa also knew you deserved better than him. He knew you deserved someone present; someone who could be there with you, physically. Clearly, he can’t be the one to do that anymore. This is for you. At the end of it all, what he’s doing is for you. Maybe it would make everything easier. You’d think he’d move on. You’d hate him. It’s for the best, right? 

He hopes he’s wrong, but Oikawa persists anyways. 

Out of sight, out of mind. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

It was much more difficult than Oikawa thought it would be; after all, you’re probably just as stubborn and persistent as he is. His phone lights up, signalling a new text.

[ y/n <3 : i really hope you’re okay, tooru. ] 

This makes thirty. 

He bites the inside of his cheek, a futile attempt to stop the tears that streamed down his face. A choked up noise leaves the back of his throat, surprising himself. He could have ended both his and your pain, all he had to do was type out a reply. 

But the flurry of contradicting emotions stop him from doing so. Oikawa wants you to live your life, to move on, to forget him, to be happy without him. At the same time, he wanted you to wait for him, with open arms and that smile he loved. 

His fingers move on their own, slowly but surely, as quiet sobs raked through his entire body. 

[ i’m always going to love you. ] 

Oikawa almost sends it. But he doesn’t.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

send me a hc / or a scenario ! <3  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi @kokogxddess @livy384 @itachislut @crapimahuman @dkeela @duhsies @rmjace @ryustanaka @sanchooinc @sassyglassesbunny @cemeiia @nikiniki743 @meiankolia @tooru--o 

join my hq taglist here. <3

[starshine583]

Crossing a Line (18)

(I’m just gonna keep changing the title set up until I’m satisfied lol anyway, enjoy reading chapter 18 of the Le Paon AU as the tension rises!)

Part 1 / Part 17 / Part 19

The lead of the pencil scratched across the paper as Marinette drew another flower. True to his word, Felix had passed her classroom after each period, subtly giving her a nod or wave to acknowledge the check in. Marinette decided to mark off the classes by drawing flowers. That way, anyone- *cough* Alya *cough* -watching would think she was just doodling. The strategy’s worked well so far, and now she only had one class left before lunch.

Marinette pulled her lip between her teeth and reached down to fiddle with the peacock miraculous again. She’d hardly let it go since her confrontation with Felix. He seemed genuinely surprised about the consequences of the wish, but she’d seen too many ‘genuine’ things from him to trust that again. So It helped ease her mind a bit knowing that Felix was currently powerless. If he did intend on twisting the odds again, he’d have to jump through a few more hoops than before. 

That begs the question, though: If Felix was telling the truth, what happens next? She’ll get back her miraculous and heal Emilie, but will Felix keep fighting with Hawk Moth? What if he still felt a morbid sense of loyalty towards the terrorist? What if Hawkmoth pressures him to get the miraculous anyway as payback for the peacock miraculous? Does this whole fiasco boil down to what Hawkmoth really wants?

“Hey, girl! You ready for lunch?” Alya asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

Marinette blinked. “Lunch?”

“Yeah, it’s time for our lunch break.”

Marinette turned to the rest of the class, who were already filing out of the classroom. Was class over? She didn’t realize she’d spaced out that long.

“Anyway, I was thinking of the park? We haven’t eaten there in a while.” Alya continued thoughtfully.

“Oh, actually,” Marinette said, “I’m eating lunch with Felix today.”

She held back a wince when Alya’s gaze snapped to hers. “You’re what?”

“Yeah..” Marinette sighed, standing up to gather her things. “He- um -we have a few fashion things to talk about? So we decided to eat lunch together.”

“And when were you going to tell me?” Alya asked, clearly offended that she’d been left out of the loop.

“It only just happened this morning.” Marinette offered sheepishly. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Please don’t make it that big of a deal.

“What? Girl, that’s a big score! Even if it’s not an official date, it’s still lunch together!” Alya insisted, now getting giddy with the news. Great. “I’ll forgive you for forgetting to tell me, but I want all the deets afterwards as an apology!”

Marinette plastered on a smile. She couldn’t blame her best friend for accidentally hitting a sore spot. Her romantic feelings for Felix fading away because of a betrayal involving both of their miraculous is a scoop that even Alya couldn’t have guessed. Marinette didn’t guess it either. “Sure, Alya.”

The two girls said their goodbyes, and Alya pranced off to tell the rest of the girl gang about Marinette’s “unofficial date” with Felix. It was a hollowing feeling, watching everyone get to live their lives as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. Marinette was barely holding it together, fueled by her rage and determination alone, and no one knew. Well, no one except Felix, but he’d been the cause of the damage. That wasn’t exactly a comfort for her. Will she have to act like nothing’s happened between them for the rest of her life? That will be hard considering Alya and the others are still trying to push them together.

Marinette checked her phone as she walked towards the cafeteria. She’d tried to call Chat Noir as Jiāng húlí several times, but he must not have been transformed. It went straight to voicemail. She had to give Master Fu the fox miraculous soon after, so she crossed her fingers that he might get the message of her distress and contact her.

A part of her wondered what he would say if he knew what had happened. He’d been the first to warn her, after all. He told her that Le Paon wasn’t to be trusted, and what did she do? She threw away the statements without a second thought. All because of some fickle emotions. At least she’d learned her lesson: Villains can shine and sparkle like heroes (or more) as much as they want, but at the end of the day.. At the end of the day, they’re just that. Villains. 

Felix may sound sweet and worried, and she may still be in love with him to an agonizing amount, but Marinette is committed to not learning that lesson a second time.

~~~~~~

Felix brushed a hand against his vest as he slipped his tablet into his bag. He hadn’t realized how accustomed he’d grown to wearing the peacock miraculous. Without it on, his outfit felt.. incomplete. 

“Do you think we can make it to that restaurant in time?” Allegra asked to no one in particular, wrapping her purse around her shoulder.

“If Felix gets his driver to take us.” Claude replied with a smile.

Felix glanced up from his bag. “Oh, I can’t join you for lunch today.”

Claude snorted. “Come on, Fe, you can’t get out of it that easily.”

“Yeah, you should have learned that when you tried a lame excuse last semester.” Allan added with a smile.

Felix rolled his eyes. “No, I really can’t. I’m having lunch with Marinette today.”

The group paused, their eyes widening from shock.

Then-

“What?!” Claude burst out.

“You finally got together!” Allegra cheered. 

“When did that happen?” Allan asked.

Felix waved down their reactions, along with his own guilt. “It’s not like that. In fact, I..”

Her near-murderous glare resurfaced in his mind.

“I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.” He admitted softly.

The group frowned, each sharing a look with the other.

“But you guys are perfect together.” Allegra attempted to console. “You’ve gotten along wonderfully so far.”

“She accepted your offer to lunch, right?” Claude added. “That’s a good sign.”

Felix held back a bitter laugh. They were not talking about the same situation.

Allan gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Don’t worry, man. If you love her, and she loves you, everything will turn out fine.”

But is love enough to overcome betrayal?

He hoped he was wrong when he said he didn’t think so.

“I’ll see you after lunch.” Was all Felix ended up muttering. Marinette would be waiting for him. No need to break her trust in him further, if that was even possible. 

“Bye..” Allegra said, a hint of concern in her tone. Felix was concerned too. Not only had he lied to Father about his knowledge of Ladybug’s identity, he had secretly stolen Ladybug’s earrings, and now he was giving them back, all without Father's consent. This was no doubt the best course of action, but that didn’t mean the consequences would be any less severe. Felix imagined he’d be pulled from school when Father found out and grounded from everything. Marinette would most certainly be banned from their premises a second time. 

He’d backed himself into a corner, and the only option now was to race against the clock and heal Emilie before Gabriel could figure out their plan and unleash his rage. 

-

Courage was the first thing to go as Felix approached Marinette’s table. She’d chosen to eat outside, taking the table furthest from the school grounds. It gave them the most privacy without actually leaving. He wouldn’t expect anything less from the clever Ladybug, but it pained him that she felt the need to take such precautions. 

Quietly, he set his bag on the ground next to the chair across from her and sat down. Marinette didn’t react. She merely sat there scribbling something in a notebook. He peered over the paper as best he could without standing and managed to catch a couple of words.

Escape Plan.

Felix looked down at his hands, shame churning and twisting inside him. So there really was no trust left between them, huh?

“How were your classes?” He asked, if only to break the soul-crushing silence.

Marinette shot him a glare immediately. “Don’t act like you care.”

Felix tensed. “I-” I do care. So much. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

Marinette scoffed and set down her pencil. Or rather, slammed it on the table in annoyance. “You want to talk? Fine. Who’s Hawkmoth? How did you two become partners?”

Felix grimaced. She always managed to ask the hardest questions. “That’s a.. long story.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes, and he could tell he’d given the wrong answer. What else could he do, though? Hawkmoth was his Father. Felix couldn’t just give him up.

“Fine.” She said, pure agitation in her voice now. “How did you know who I was? What gave me away.” 

“Ah, well..” He might as well tell her, right? They both knew each other’s identities so what was the harm? “Yesterday, after the akuma attack, I saw you swinging off alone and thought I’d follow you-”

“Wait.” Marinette interrupted, her eyebrows knitted together. “Did you say yesterday?”

Felix nodded. “We’d been planning to follow you for a while, but Chat Noir always got in the way. Yesterday was the first time I’d been able to catch you alone. That’s when I saw you transform.”

A mix of emotions washed over her features, mostly skepticism. “So you mean to tell me that you haven’t known Marinette was Ladybug this whole time? That you only found out last night, a few hours before you stole my miraculous?”

Now Felix was frowning. “Yes? Did you think I would risk saving you or coming to your house as Le Paon if I knew you were Ladybug? I can be reckless, but I’m not that reckless.”

Marinette didn’t reply. She stared down at her notebook, lost in deep thought. When she finally spoke, though, it was soft, and he almost had to lean forward to hear it. 

“Then why?”

“Pardon?” What did she mean ‘why’?

Marinette looked up, and Felix’s heart sank when he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. 

“Why?” She repeated, harsher and louder than before. “Why waste all those nights coming to my house or talking with me at school if you didn’t know who I was? What was the point if not to get close enough to take the earrings for the wish?” 

“Marinette, I..” Felix trailed off, frozen by her sudden grief. She looked so desperate, so broken, and he did this to her. 

He reached out to her, touched her hand to comfort or relieve or something, but she pulled away.

“Why say you love me,” She whispered, looking back down at her notebook, “if you didn’t mean it?”

Felix almost shot out of his chair at the accusation. Was this what she’d been telling herself since yesterday? That all of their times together, their not-quite-dates, their kiss, his love.. was some sort of elaborate lie to get jewelry? No wonder she was furious! He’d be beside himself if he found out she was lying to him like that!

“Marinette,” He began carefully, “I know our friendship is currently unpleasant and shaky at best, but please trust me when I say that I meant every word I said to you.” 

Marinette sniffed and brushed a few stray tears away. Each one dropped another anchor on Felix’s heart. 

“How can I?” She asked after a moment. “How can I trust you when you didn’t trust me? We spent months together, Felix! We had sleepovers and deep, late night talks and ate ice cream together and supported each other over everything. After all of that, why would you-” Her quiet sob cut her short, and she shook her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

Now that was a question. Why didn’t he just talk to her? He thought he was avoiding hurt by taking the earrings quickly, but that obviously failed. He may have avoided physical injuries, but he’d much rather those at this point. 

No, the real reason was that Felix didn’t want to be torn over whether he should continue to save his mother or not. He had the miraculous. He had the wish. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel and didn’t want to know if the light would be dimmer than he’d originally thought.

“I was a coward.” He admitted, burying his hand in his hair. “After missing my Mother and wishing her back for so long, I was afraid of what you would tell me when I told you the truth. I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that the miraculous might not bring her back.”

Gosh, he’d made so many mistakes. He shouldn’t have accepted the peacock miraculous. He shouldn’t have let his Father terrorize the city for so long in a misguided cause. He shouldn’t have procrastinated about talking to Ladybug for possible peace. He shouldn’t have kept fighting when he learned that Adrien was Chat Noir. He shouldn’t have taken Marinette’s earrings when he learned the truth. He just shouldn’t have.

Marinette sighed, bringing him from his thoughts. “Okay.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Okay?”

Marinette brushed the last bit of tears from her eyes and nodded. “I can’t say that I completely trust you yet, but.. If you’re serious about this, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Felix’s heart skipped a beat.

“T-That’s all I need!” He promised. Talking with him during lunch had been better than he’d dreamed. Giving him another chance was an absolute miracle for him. “Thank you.”

Marinette didn’t answer. With the conversation more or less finished, she pulled out her lunch box to start eating. It was then that Felix’s own stomach growled, and he coughed. The tension from their predicament caused him to forget the reason they were able to meet outside and talk in the first place.

“So.. I have a question.” Felix said as he pulled out his own lunch. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

Marinette briefly glanced up from her soup. “..I guess.” 

Felix drew in a small breath. “Assuming you didn’t follow me like I did you.. how did you know who I was?”

Marinette jokingly sucked in a breath between her teeth, giving a ‘yikes’ expression. “Yeah~ my discovery wasn’t as nice as a simple stalking.”

Felix smiled. Seeing her jest brought him a small, renewed sense of hope that everything might turn out okay between them after all. “So? What happened?”

“Remember that night you came to my house after getting shot?” 

He actually grimaced and touched his side. “Do I? If I didn’t have Duusu, I’d still be wincing every time I breathed.”

“About that..” Marinette said, pulling on her pigtail slightly. “I may or may not have actually been the one to heal you.”

Felix blinked. That.. that made a lot of sense. “But Duusu never mentioned anything about you healing me?”

Marinette dropped her pigtail to push her fingers together as she explained, “When you passed out on my bed, you ended up detransforming too. That’s how I figured out your identity. Of course, I freaked out a bit, but you were still bleeding so I put that aside for the time being.”

A small smile crossed Felix’s lips. Only Marinette could push through a ‘huge reveal’ like that and talk as if it were nothing.

“It was around that time that my powers activated and healed your wound. Duusu was very sweet about the whole thing, and after a small conversation, she promised not to say anything unless you asked specifically.” Marinette finished. “You have no idea how frustrating it was. I couldn’t talk to you about the miraculous because I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet, but you wouldn’t talk to Ladybug.”

Felix let out a sheepish laugh. “Right.. I’m sorry I put you through that.” 

Marinette shrugged. “Can’t take it back now.”

Felix nodded. No matter the amount of regret and guilt welling up inside him, he couldn’t change the past. He supposed he could soothe himself by saying it wasn’t all bad, though. Taking the peacock miraculous was undoubtedly a horrible decision, but it led to him seeing Marinette on a more personal level, which then led to a more personal friendship between them. Well, for him it did. She wasn’t aware of his identity at the time.

“Hold on.” Felix spoke up, sitting up slightly at his miniature revelation. “You said you figured out my identity when I passed out from the gunshot. That means you knew who I was when I kissed you.”

A blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks. “Well.. yes.”

“And you kissed me back.”

Her blush deepened. “Yep.”

Felix’s heart pounded in his chest. “So.. what does that mean?”

It was selfish and unfair to ask her such questions during these trying times, and some might say it should be obvious by now, but he wanted- no, he needed the confirmation. Did she love him or not?

“I..” Marinette fiddled with her utensil as she searched for words. “It’s complicated. I can’t say that I don’t love you-”

Felix sucked in a quiet breath. 

“-but it’s different now.” She answered honestly. “I just.. I need time. I’m still on the edge because of what you did, you know?” 

“Take all the time you need.” Felix responded, hoping his eagerness didn’t bleed through his voice. Marinette loved him! I mean, they’ve already kissed, like, twice, but still! Just to hear it from her lips made his heart nearly burst. 

A small smile graced Marinette’s lips, and she went back to eating, as Felix did a moment later. It was hard to eat when one’s entire body was buzzing with euphoria, though.

The bell rang a few minutes later, causing them to say their farewells to each other and separate. Felix knew there were still a decent amount of trials left to face before this was over, but after that confession.. He couldn’t help feeling a tad optimistic.

~~~~~~

It was commonplace for students to flood out of the classroom at the end of their last class, and although Marinette usually picked up the pace to leave, she was certain she’d made record time that day. Felix must have had the same idea, because he was at her side within seconds as well. She offered him a small glance, acknowledging his presence, but nothing more. 

The conversation they’d shared over lunch had been relieving to say the least. When he essentially told her that he still loved her, she nearly sank to the floor with the amount of weight that’d been suddenly lifted from her shoulders. That meant this dwindled down to Felix wanting to save his Mother and making the wrong decision to do so. However, Marinette didn’t want to let her guard down just yet. She had no way of knowing how informed Hawkmoth was on the situation. Even if Felix means well, there might be traps lying ahead of her at the Agreste Mansion that he’s unaware of. 

“By the way,” Felix spoke up, earning her gaze again, “Father may or may not have banned you from our house after your last visit, meaning we’ll have to be careful about your entrance.” 

Marinette pursed her lips. That probably shouldn’t surprise her. “When did this ‘banishment’ happen?”

Felix’s eyes flicked up briefly in thought. “Uh.. I think a few weeks ago? I meant to tell you before today, but things kept coming up.”

Marinette hummed, knowing the exact ‘things’ he was referring to.

“Oh, Marinette’s coming with us today?” 

Marinette turned to the new voice and saw Adrien exiting the classroom. She almost forgot that he’d be riding with them.

“She wanted to borrow a book from our Library,” Felix answered smoothly, “So I invited her over.”

Adrien smiled. “Great! I have to practice piano, but I trust Felix to help you out.” 

“Thanks.” Marinette said politely. I hope I can trust him too.

“So how did you get Father to agree to this?” Adrien asked next, mostly facing Felix now.

Marinette didn’t miss the subtle look of agitation that Felix shot his brother. 

“He doesn’t know.”

Adrien’s eyes widened, and an amused smirk slipped onto his lips. “Oh? How do you plan to get her inside then?”

Marinette crossed her arms, a smirk of her own creeping up. She’d like to know that answer as well.

Felix playfully rolled his eyes. “I have my ways.”

-

A shiver ran up Marinette’s spine as Felix led her through the back entrance to the Agreste Mansion. Who would’ve thought that the only secret way in and out was a walk-in freezer that connected to the outside world? It made her wonder how Felix managed to come across this little escape tactic. Was it pure coincidence? A mere observation when orders arrived? Or had he been actively searching for a hidden exit?

Goosebumps crawled across her skin, and she gave in slightly to the cold, letting herself shudder and rubbing her hands against her biceps for warmth.

Felix glanced over his shoulder at her, seeming blissfully untouched by the drop in temperature. “Are you cold?”

“What? Being cold in a freezer? Of course not! I was just about to take off my jacket.” Marinette retorted. 

Felix chuckled, his breath clouding in front of him. “I see we’ve resorted to sarcasm now? You must truly be at your limit.”

“Yes, it’s been a long day for all of us, I’m sure.” Marinette replied, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

Felix reached ahead and pushed open another metal door, revealing the kitchen area of the Mansion on the other side. Marinette didn’t hesitate to dash through the doorway. She shuddered again as the room temperature wrapped around her, neutralizing the previous chill of the air. Sweet, blessed heat.

“Is that better?” Felix asked, closing the metal door behind him.

Marinette nodded. “Much better, thank you.”

Felix offered a smile. “Of course. The library’s right around the corner.” 

The two made their way out of the kitchen and down the hall. Felix checked for Gabriel’s secretary or Gabriel himself, and when he called the all clear, they slipped into the library together. 

Marinette caught a glimpse of Adrien walking up the stairs as they moved. He noticed her too and shot her a wink. Marinette allowed herself a small smile at the sight. At least Adrien wasn’t knee-deep involved in this miraculous mess.

“Thank you for doing this.” Felix commented as he walked to one of the aisles. “It really does mean the world to me that you’re still willing to help Mother after everything we’ve done.”

Marinette shrugged, not missing the fact that he said ‘we’. It seemed strange that he would group Hawkmoth in with his actions in relation to his mother, as if this might have been a goal for his partner as well. “I’m the hero of Paris, right? I have a responsibility. I can’t just turn my back on the people who need me.”

Felix nodded. “Right..”

He stopped at the end of an aisle and brushed his fingers across the second to top shelf. Once he got to a certain point, Felix stopped and pulled out a couple of books. Behind the books lay a rectangle outline on the back of the shelf. Marinette watched with awe as he easily pulled the rectangle out of the wall, revealing a small drawer.

“When did you make that?” She asked, marveling at the detail.

“Well, when you have a Father like mine, you learn to-” Felix stopped short, his body stiffening.

Marinette frowned and took a step forward. “Felix? Are you okay?”

Felix didn’t respond, instead staring down at the drawer in disbelief. 

“They’re.. They’re gone.”

Marinette’s heart stopped.

“Gone?” She repeated. “What do you mean gone?”

“I-I mean gone!” Felix said, his voice quickly rising in panic. “They were right here! I put them in this pocket and went to bed, and I haven’t touched them since!”

Marinette to control her breathing as she took in his words. If the earrings weren’t here, where were they? “Felix, if this is some kind of trick-”

“No! I swear they were right here!”

“Indeed they were.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold when Gabriel’s voice rose behind them. Felix shot up as well, pure terror exploding across his face. The sight unnerved her to the core. She’d never seen Felix so scared.

“I’ll admit I’m impressed.” Gabriel mused. “That little drawer of yours is a magnificent hiding place. Had it not been for our security cameras, I don’t believe I would have found it.”

Marinette’s gaze flicked to the ceiling, where a tiny camera was placed. A touch of annoyance swirled through her mind. She should have known there would be cameras everywhere.

“I have to say I’m disappointed, Felix.” The man continued. “I gave you the opportunity to help your poor, sick Mother, and what do you do? You lie and go behind your own Father’s back. I wasn’t even aware you knew who Ladybug was, let alone that you got her earrings.”

Despite the fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through her, along with the steadily growing horror, Marinette turned to face Gabriel. The news that Felix had been acting of his own accord the entire time surprised her, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. Only two people aside from herself and Felix knew about Felix’s motives or the fact that he was Le Paon, and Gabriel Agreste certainly wasn’t Master Fu. 

“Hawkmoth.” She said, her hands clenching at her sides. It wasn’t a question.

Gabriel looked down at her, a disturbing, small smile creeping onto his lips. He didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest that she’d discovered his identity. 

She felt Felix take a step closer to her.

“Ah, Mlle. Dupain Cheng.” Gabriel purred. His eyes shined with absolute glee in a horrible, psychotic way, like he’d finally lured his prey into the perfect trap. “I thought I made it quite clear that you are not welcome on my estate, but my son clearly has trouble following the rules. However, I have to wonder: Why would he bring you to the miraculous’ hiding place? Perhaps Felix decided to show me Ladybug’s identity after all.”

“Father that’s enough.” Felix stated sternly, finally regaining his voice. He stepped around Marinette, putting a make-shift barrier between her and Gabriel. “There’s no need to fight. Marinette has a solution to heal Mother without the wish! She just needs her earrings back to do it.”

Gabriel scoffed, his smile immediately fading. “Don’t be naive. She only wants her earrings back! You think she won’t say anything to get them?”

Marinette saw the edges of Felix’s expression fall.

“Isn’t it worth trying?” He continued, his voice falling from stern to pleading. “We can’t use the wish, or someone else will get hurt. There’s a curse that comes with it. If we save her life with the wish, someone has to take her place.”

“You wouldn’t sacrifice anything to have her back? To be a family again?” Gabriel shot back. 

“Not when we don’t have to!” Felix countered. “We don’t even have Chat Noir’s ring yet. The least we can do is try to heal her peacefully without consequences!”

“So you’re choosing that brat over me? Your Father?” Gabriel asked, his eyes narrowing with disgust and disapproval. 

Felix clenched his fists. “You’re choosing to sacrifice someone’s life over saving everyone!”

“No.” Marinette spoke up, having enough. How could a father pull their own son into terrorist attacks? How could he push Felix into danger time and time again with no remorse? It was unspeakable!

She stepped forward and stood tall as she continued, “He only wants the power. This stopped being about Emilie and family a long time ago.”

Gabriel scowled. “How dare you question my integrity! Losing Emilie was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I will do anything to get her back!”

“Where are my miraculous?” She demanded, ignoring his ‘righteous fury’.

“Safe.” He responded sharply. “And out of your reach.”

“I won’t let you use the wish.”

A grim smile twisted onto Gabriel’s lips once more. “I’d like to see you try now that you’re powerless.”

Marinette was tempted to smile herself as she grabbed the peacock miraculous from her back pocket. “Not quite.”

Let’s see what Felix miraculous can really do.

Tag List:  @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @starlit-winter @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asianfrustration13  @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @make-the-stars-stay @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace​ @the-navistar-carol​ @sannsibarr​ @grumpy-vixen-kitten​ @hauntedfreakdeputyhero​ @utcaro​ @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @tori-mmm  @fifaanayd  @novicevoice  @dreamykitty25 @mischief-not-managed-posts @amayakans  @arsaem  @athena452 @pink-and-bunny

[emeraldtawny]

Satan x Fem!MC: A Foreign Heat

...I started this like 4 months ago and have only now just finished it oTL I hope you enjoy this 10k slow burn, friends-to-lovers style fic because wow this boi deserves soft love ;;w;;

This is also up on AO3 right here if you wished to leave kudos or the like uwu

Anyways, hope you enjoy~ :3

~

Rage is not a foreign concept to Satan; if it was, it would leave his title as the Avatar of Wrath quite redundant. That heat that flares up inside of him, that suffocating, clawing anger that makes his teeth clench and his blood boil, is such a familiar sensation to him that it feels wrong when that flame dwindles. Suffice it to say, being consumed by the flames of rage is what Satan is used to. It’s what he knows.

So when that flame wavers, he’s almost at a loss. 

He remembers his first impression of her. She was, well, nothing special. Maybe an occasional aid to his boredom if she was near. He didn’t spare her any more of his thoughts than necessary, because he didn’t deem her worthy enough of his attention. He scowls at himself whenever he remembers that thought process, that mightier-than-thou mentality reminding him of a certain demon that shall not be named.

He’s glad that he thinks differently now. He’s glad that he gave this human girl a chance to prove herself. Because now, he thinks that he quite enjoys her company.

… Yes, he quite likes it.

“Satan?” 

He’s pulled from his reverie of the past and back into the present, the very focus of his thoughts sitting beside him. Her head tilted quizzically and her eyes trained on him, she waits patiently for him to respond. When he focuses his attention on her, she sighs out her query. 

“I’m having a bit of trouble with this passage. I don’t understand what it’s asking of me.”

He feels the corner of his lips quirk up at the perplexion on her face, seemingly enjoying her mild distress for the upcoming exam on Applied Magic. He sets his own book down and leans closer to read over her shoulder.

“Ah, Incantations and Curses. I can’t say I’m surprised this is tripping you up.”

She taps the side of her pen against her textbook, her lips pressing together and out into a pout. He has to school his features to keep himself from grinning at her endearing display of dismay, his eyes pretending to scan over the book while his peripherals work to keep her in his sights.

“This isn’t a normal thing to learn in the Human World, yet they teach it to us like it’s common knowledge.” She sees his lips begin to move to rebut her, but she beats him to the mark, “I know it’s common knowledge here in the Devildom, but that just makes it so unfair for those unfamiliar with magic.”

A huffed laugh escapes Satan’s nose as a puff of air. “Unfortunately for you, ‘those unfamiliar with magic’ constitutes only humans. Are you that determined to learn?”

He meets her undivided gaze, completely forgetting of their close proximity and is only viciously reminded of the fact by how clearly he sees himself reflected in her eyes. He catches the subtle widening of his eyes in his reflection, but nothing more. Sitting before a demon, this human simply smiles.

“I am if you’re the one teaching me.”

He blinks, forgetting his prized vocabulary for a moment as he loses himself in her earnest gaze. If he didn’t know any better, he would believe she was mocking him with her kindness. But he knew of her genuineness and he knew not to dismiss it so quickly. He leans back in his seat, clearing his throat simultaneously to fill the silence and to restart his brain.

“I guess we can arrange a study session if you think it will help.”

Her smile directed at him grows, her eyes lighting up and, for just a moment, Satan swears that the warmth coursing through his body feels... different. His attempt to follow that train of thought is cut off by her D.D.D. buzzing once, twice, thrice, to tell her she has a text.

She hesitates, casting a look his way to gain permission. He sighs in response.

“Mammon?”

She checks her phone quickly. “Levi. New expansion in Mononoke Land.”

He doesn’t seem to realise that he’s smiling as he says, “I suppose we’ve done enough studying for one day.”

She instantly relaxes, “Thanks. I’ll message you later about that pre-test study session.”

“I look forward to it.”

Grinning at his words, she begins to pack away her things. All the while, Satan finds himself unable to look away from her, a slight frown marring his lips.

The questions swimming through his mind irk him; why does her smile make him lose his words so successfully? And, more curiously, why does he want her to smile if that’s the effect it has on him? He found it bizarre.

The quick tap of a pen against the desk brings him back once again and he blinks up at her face, thankfully with a little more distance between them to keep his thoughts grounded.

“What?”

“Are you alright? You seem a bit spaced out.”

This troublesome human, only vigilant when she shouldn’t be, Satan thinks to himself dryly.

He smiles his usual smile, about as real as Mammon’s financial independence. “Same as always. Tired from reading, most likely.” he lies effortlessly.

“If you’re sure…” She hesitates before gracing him with a shy smile, one he can’t quite pinpoint the message beneath, “I’ll see you later, then.”

With a tiny wave, she readjusts the bag on her shoulder, lifts her phone to her ear and heads off, and Satan can’t help rolling his eyes sympathetically at her unhurried “okay, okay” as she no doubt addresses Levi through her phone. 

Alone and without distraction, his thoughts should return to him again, unbidden. And they do, but only of her. 

His fingernail connects with the wood of the desk as he taps his finger against it, his eyebrows pinched together and his lips opening to release a sigh into the air around him.

Even the book beneath him cannot distract him from the prospect of when he’ll next see her.

~

Days went by and things remained the same. It was exam period at the Academy, so Satan concludes that must be what has him so on edge… despite all previous years going smoothly and without incident. And also being aware that these feelings started shortly after she had arrived. 

He shakes his head at the thought.

No, that IS the reason why I can’t focus as well as usual. Nothing more, nothing less, nothing else.

He was certain that if he was an outsider looking in on his situation, he would be snickering at himself, baffled at how desperate he is to ignore the elephant in the room. He lets a silent sigh exhale through his nostrils - his fifth one of the evening - and returns to flipping through his latest novella, his dinner going untouched. He hardly flinches at the doors of the dining room bursting open and the loud voices accompanying it; sounds he has long since learned to block out.

“Whad’ya just say to me, huh?! Say it again, I dare ya!”

“I’ll say it however many times I have to to get the message through your thick skull: absolutely NOT!”

“C’moooon! It’s quick and easy cash! You’ll be rollin’ in dough faster than you can say ‘Wow, Mammon! I knew you were right!’. It’ll be too good to be true!”

“Usually when things are too good to be true, it’s because they are.” Satan pipes up, not even bothering to glance at another one of his brothers’ infinite arguments.

“Thank you, Satan. Finally, a voice of REASON in this room!” Asmodeus sighs, the sound both forlorn and dramatic. “I swear, such gorgeous bronze skin loses its charm when the person who wears it has about as many brain cells as my pinky finger.”

“Gr...Yeah, well! … Shut up!!” 

The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as it’s forcefully pulled out to seat the exasperated Avatar of Greed, his grumbles unintelligible as he reaches across the table to pile his plate high with food. Another chair is pulled back from the table - much more delicately - as Asmo grabs his own food. After a moment, he hums in thought.

“Where’s ___? I thought she was in charge of cooking dinner tonight.”

“She said that she wanted to study more for the upcoming exams, so she left as soon as she finished cooking.” Satan flips another page of his book as he replies, all of his conscious efforts focused on remaining flippant in his demeanour.

“Awww, our little human is awfully diligent, isn’t she? But that means I don’t get to see her adorable little face over dinner. She’d be much more delicious than this, I’m sure.”

Satan didn’t need to look at his brother to know he was smirking, his eyes likely alight with whatever lustful fantasy he was conjuring up and acting out in his mind. 

He’d hardly ever bat an eye at it. But now? Now, a sudden swell of fire pumps through his blood and makes his lips twitch in distaste.

“Not while I’m eating, Asmo!” Mammon somehow manages to muffle out around a mouthful of food, “Show some class, why don’t cha?”

His remark provokes an apathetic blink and an unenthused stare from Asmo. “You are the last person in the universe who is allowed to lecture me on class. Besides, don’t act innocent. I know that you’ve thought about her that way.”

That causes Mammon to swallow mid-chew, sending him into a coughing fit as he desperately beats at his chest to dislodge the choking hazard. He swallows again and gasps for air unnecessarily loud.

“Y-you can’t just say shit like that while I’m swallowing my damn food, y’know!”

“You’re not denying it, hm?” Asmo rests his elbow on the table and cradles his chin in his palm, grinning at his older brother squirming under his gaze.

“Of course n--NAH! I’d never think of a… a HUMAN like that! Nuh-uh! No way!”

Satan feels his fingers tightening around the book in his hands, his eyes practically burning through the page yet not reading a single letter printed onto the paper.

“But, why not? She’s such a beautiful young woman. Any man, or demon, would have to be blind or completely ignorant to not see what a sexy little thing she is~”

Words no longer process in Satan’s mind, the only sound in his head a high-pitched scream from a kettle way past its boiling point. He barely registers how tightly he exudes pressure on the book he holds, nor does he notice how he’s one lip twitch away from snarling in carnal rage. 

What he does register, however, is the distinct sound of paper ripping. As do his brothers.

He crashes abruptly back into reality, the sight of Mammon’s and Asmo’s astonished faces greeting him. Dazed confusion turns into speechlessness when he turns his eyes down to where they’re looking. His novella, previously in peak condition, now sits split neatly in two, the spine of the book ripped perfectly down the middle and each half held tightly in Satan’s hands.

No one says a word, each demon brother parroting the other with their wide-eyed stares and inability to speak. Until the doors swing open to shatter the silence.

“Man, I’m hungry…”

Oblivious to what he just walked into, Beel walks up and grabs the entire plate in the centre of the table, bringing it in front of him as he takes his seat. Satan rises to his feet just as Beel gets off of his.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Hm? Alright. Are you going to eat your plate?”

He leaves without answering, his footsteps quick yet levelled as he flees the scene, the evidence of his lost control still held tightly in both hands. 

Two demons speechless, one demon oblivious, and the other acutely aware that he can’t ignore this any longer.

~

                     ___: Satan? 

                    ___: Satan, please answer me

                    ___: ...Just a sticker or something 

                    ___: Anything? 

He reads each bubble popping up on his lock screen, but makes no attempt to reply. Leaning back against one of the multiple bookshelves in his bedroom, Satan has long since given up on the mystery novel in front of him, his phone now sitting between the pages as his new reading material.

The device vibrates again and another message comes through.

                    ___: If you’re busy, I understand. But can you let me know if we’re still okay to study together?

That’s right, he muses to himself, she wanted my help. 

With a heavy inward sigh, he sits up straighter and grabs his phone, swiping it open and tapping through to send a reply.

                    Satan: Busy. Ask the others.

As much as I want to, I don’t think I should see you right now.

Instant regret plagues him as soon as he hits send, his stomach shrinking and dropping like a stone in water, sending ripples of guilt and unease through him. He drops his phone carelessly to the side and glares up at the light fixing like it will somehow burn away these alien feelings within him.

Yet through the guilt of letting her down, he’s angry. Angry at himself for letting this happen, for not seeing this coming until it was too late. 

A powerless, frail little human did this to him? The devil on Satan’s shoulder laughs at his pitiful state; oh, the irony.

“What a mess…” He sighs out into the empty room, the literature his only audience. He looks down at his D.D.D., its screen black and lifeless and he curses himself for holding out hope that she’d even reply to him.

So when the screen lights up and dances along to its ringtone, her name dead centre, he almost smacks his head back against the bookshelf with how quickly he straightens up. He grabs his phone and stares at the screen, his mind running so fast that the vibrations from his phone feel numb in his hand.

I shouldn’t answer… I really shouldn’t.

Her expression from their last study session materialises in his mind’s eye, that sweet, shy smile he hopes that she only shows to him. He clenches his phone tight in his palm and, with a frustrated inhale and an equally frustrated exhale, he accepts the call.

“... H-hello.”

Damn his voice for faltering.

“No.”

He blinks at the assertive punch behind that single syllable.

“Um, what?”

“No, I won’t ask the others. Because right now, I’m more worried about a certain demon that has apparently shut himself in his room without explanation.”

Satan sighs in quiet annoyance and judging by the soft sigh from her end, he didn’t mask it well enough. “I’m just studying. It’s nothing for you to be concerned over.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. And I judge that you are very obviously lying.”

He props his knee up and lets his free arm rest on it whilst the hand that holds his phone taps its index finger against the device, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Exhibit A: You’ve been acting weird lately. And it’s not because exams are coming up.”

“Your proof?” he counters.

“I asked your brothers about your behavioural patterns around stressful school-related events, which would include exam and test periods. Every single one said that you don’t act how you’re acting right now. And if six of your brothers isn’t enough proof, I got similar responses from the likes of Barbatos and Diavolo.”

The assurance behind her words gives him pause, himself not expecting to be caught so cleanly in his lie.

“Exhibit B:” she continues, “What’s this about you ripping a book in half at dinner?”

His eyebrow twitches, as do the fingers around his phone.

“Who told you?” He doesn’t mean to come across as hostile as he does. Thankfully, she brushes it off without taking offence.

“Mammon. He was telling everyone how you ‘lost the plot’.”

“Hehehe.” The grin that accompanies his laugh is anything but jovial, “I’m going to have a LOT of fun hunting him down for that.”

Her sigh wrought with worry pulls Satan back from the brink of his sadism. He pictures what expression she’d be making right this second; her eyebrows likely pulled taut, a slight crinkle above her nose its byproduct. Maybe she’s biting her lip the same way she does when she’s fretting over the simplest of things; the thought that she’d be that concerned for him touched him, though he would seldom admit it so quickly.

“And finally, Exhibit C: … me.”

“Y-you...?” He barely recognises his voice with how unsurely it leaves his lips.

“You really think you can pull the wool over my eyes that easily? I may be a human, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

Satan’s nose scrunches up with his confused frown and he bites back, despite himself. “What makes you so sure that something’s wrong with me? You don’t know what I’m thinking, so don’t pretend like you do.”

“I’m not pretending to know, I’m asking you to tell me. And of course I’d notice when something’s wrong with you. I-”

She stops, her breath hitching slightly as she kills the words she was about to utter. She sighs again, a sigh of exasperation.

“Just let me be worried over someone I care about, okay?”

Silence. Her words play in Satan’s mind again despite him just hearing them, seemingly in disbelief.

The suffocating heat of rage, its smoke clawing at his lungs and its flames boiling his blood, is displaced by a calmer, more mellow warmth, akin to a bath run just a tad too hot; warm enough to lose yourself in the feeling, but hot enough to pool your skin in sweat and linger through your body.

Is she feeling this, too? This heat - a cold respite compared to the heat Satan is used to - that’s somehow both addicting yet stifling. It leaves him unsure of whether to draw near or pull away. The only thing he’s sure of is how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

A laugh. His laugh. Short and punctuated, yet relieving of the weight bearing down on his shoulders in an instant.

“Satan?” she calls out in worry.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I just… realised how childish I was being. I’m sorry for speaking to you in that manner. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“I deserve a little bit of it for prying. I was just worried. But, you seem better already, so I’m glad.”

Her smile translates so purely through her words that it’s only natural for Satan’s lips to curl upward as well.

“You really didn’t give me any room to argue, did you? That was cruel.”

“I learned from the best, and from his mystery novel and crime show recommendations.”

They both chuckle softly at that, both of their hearts aching in relief to be back in their normal routine. After a pause, she speaks again, her concern clear.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You know I’m here to talk to whenever you need, right?”

His smile twitches slightly, the bittersweet irony threatening to ruin the calm around them.

Kinda hard to talk to you about it when you’re the cause of all of this...

“Yeah, I’m fine. But if I’m ever not, I’ll tell you.”

I’ll tell you that you’re why I’m acting like this. But only when I can find the right words.

Until that moment comes, Satan sits contently as he talks with her, the warmth surrounding him ebbing and flowing like the waves of a tide.

~

“Well? Come on, don’t leave us suspended in, uh… suspense! How’d ya go?”

“Hopefully better than you in a basic understanding of the English language LMAOOO.”

“Says the nerd who speaks in text! Can it, Levi!”

“I’m curious, too.”

“Mmm, mmpf ammff mmmmpff.”

“Beel said he wants to know how you went, too.”

“Well, ___? Don’t keep us all waiting.”

Six of the brothers lean in close, waiting with trepidation for her next words. The one brother yet to speak simply stares expectantly at her, his hand in a fist and pressing his green thumbnail against his lips, his normally indifferent demeanour abnormally showcasing of his own anticipation.

She meets each of their gazes individually before looking to her feet and wringing her hands together. Asmo’s face falls, while both Lucifer and Satan’s expressions harden, expecting the worst. The others simply wait, not willing to believe her signals.

And, sure enough, she raises her head with gusto and breaks out into a triumphant grin.

“Nailed it! Top 10 in every exam!”

What wonderful hype-demons she has, their cheers filling the air and perfectly illustrating her own glee. Asmo places his hand over his heart with a heavy breath, as if it was about to give out.

“You sneaky little-! You can’t toy with us like that, ___. We were all worried about you!”

She sends a grin his way, currently preoccupied with accepting endless high-fives from Mammon and a back hug from Beel, “Guess I couldn’t help myself.”

She yelps and laughs as Beel’s hug lifts her off the ground with a spin, Levi and Belphie pulling her free only to entrap her in a congratulatory hug themselves. Away from the fray, Lucifer hums out a short laugh, his arms crossed in their usual fashion.

“I suppose your little prank can be forgiven for this occasion. You did well, ___.”

Gently pulling herself free from her hug sandwich, she smiles in thanks at Lucifer, but her eyes pull her to look at the demon beside him. His fist still covering his chin, he looks as if he’s still processing the information, responseless to everything else. 

She steps closer to him. No response. 

Another step. He blinks, his eyes locking on her.

That’s all the indication she needs and she springs forward to close the last bit of distance between them, wrapping her arms around Satan’s waist in a tight hug. She giggles at the shocked little “ah” that leaves his lips unfacilitated, and desperately attempts to hold back another at the way he clears his throat pretending that didn’t just happen. His hands move to her shoulders and, for a moment, she expects him to throw her off. But his arms circle around her back instead, his hands cupping her shoulders as he returns the hug, albeit a little stiffly. She smiles into his chest, thankful for a place to hide her face.

“Thank you, Satan. You’re the reason I did so well.”

He murmurs a response, his words a mixture of perplexion and embarrassment, “I didn’t do anything except some extra tutoring.”

“But so much of what we studied was on the exam, so I’m saying it was because of you. Accept it.” she counters, punctuating her words with a squeeze.

Just before the heat overwhelming Satan breaks to the surface and threatens to consume him--

“OI, SATAN! What’s the big idea, takin’ her all for yourself?!”

She stiffens in realisation at Mammon’s shout and quickly untangles herself from him. Satan picks up on the subtle blush blossoming over her cheeks and the way he feels a sense of loss at the warmth she was giving him. That lost warmth is quickly replaced by the fire he has long since grown accustomed to, the demon striking the match this occasion - and on many MANY occasions - being Mammon.

“If you’ll recall, Mammon, she hugged me. I didn’t ‘steal’ anything if she gave it willingly.”

“Ohhhh no! You DEFINITELY stole her! And no one steals property away from THE Great Mammon! I was her first! So I naturally deserve her first, and longest, hugs!”

“Is that so?”

Mammon gulps at the chilling edge to his younger brother’s voice, only emphasised by the smile on his lips, one of murder disguised as a summer’s day. The casual clothes adorning his body dissolve as he moves towards Mammon, replacing the mellow blues and yellows with black and neon green, the tip of his tail uncoiling from around his leg to direct its pointed tip at Mammon. All the while his smile never wavering.

“Speaking of people deserving things, there was an incident that I never talked about with you. I think now’s the perfect time to go over it.”

“I-I don’t thi-GUWWAAAAAH! Le-le-let go! Don’t mess up my hai-RAAAOWOWOWOWOW!!!!”

The rest watch - some with expressions of “serves you right”, others with exasperation, but none of them surprised - as Satan drags Mammon away by his hair.

“While we wait for that to calm down,” Lucifer interjects amidst Mammon’s wailing, “How about we celebrate your accomplishment?”

“Celebrate?” she blinks curiously.

“We prepared a party for you. Whether you succeeded or not, we were gonna party regardless. We’re glad that it’s going to be a nice party, though.” Belphie smiles.

“Simeon and Luke helped us cook up a lot of food. And I held myself back, just for you.” Beel chimes in.

“Yet you still ate two-thirds of the table...” Asmo sighs out.

“Let’s get this started so it can end faster. I picked up a new game from Akuzon and I’ve got my entire night planned out to the second, as long as this all ends by twenty-two hundred hours.”

Levi maneuvers himself behind her and presses his hands against her back to push her hastily towards the party, the rest following close behind. However, she can’t help but turn her head back to where Satan dragged his brother away, a smile creeping onto her lips as she remembers how he stiffened in her arms and hugged her with more tenderness than anyone can imagine a demon could muster. As the party kicks into high gear, she waits patiently for the one who will truly start the party for her.

…

A room almost completely trashed, enough food to be classified as its own country consumed (mainly by one demon), and the promise of headaches that will persist through all of tomorrow…

“I’d say that party was a rousing success!” Asmo announces, looking oddly pleased from his position sprawled over Levi’s lap, the latter too busy playing on his Ninterrordo Switch to notice.

“It was a success at creating the biggest mess yet.” Lucifer sighs, his headache already beginning, “Mammon, you’ll be cleaning up this entire room.”

“Wha-?! Why just me? Beel almost caused a food avalanche and Satan punched a hole in the wall! They should hafta help me!”

“I ate all of the food that fell off the table. So I’ve already cleaned up.”

“And the hole Satan made was made by YOUR head, so it’s more your fault for being an idiot and blabbing about the book incident.”

Mammon seethes silently at Beel’s and Asmo’s immediate shutdowns to his points. He looks around the room, suddenly confused.

“Speaking of, where is Satan?”

“He’s… currently compromised.” Asmo smirks.

At Mammon’s eyebrow raise, he points his finger to the side and everyone turns to look. Leaning against the wall with his legs crossed, Satan stares down at his phone in an obvious attempt at distraction. But his eyes keep darting to his side, incredibly conscious of the weight of a human head on his shoulder, using him for comfort as she breathes evenly in peaceful sleep.

“WHAT THE F--mmM! MMmmmMMM?!?!?!”

Mammon’s shout is cut off by Belphie’s pillow careening into his face with enough force to smack his head against the floor. He sighs as he smothers his brother’s all-too-enthusiastic shouts.

“She’s asleep. Keep it down.”

“If his shouts won’t wake her up, this putrid smell of normie jealousy will. Stupid Mammon.”

“I can hear everything you’re saying, you know.” Satan’s voice rings out, the annoyance behind his words clear. With a sigh, he pockets his phone and shifts as gently as he can to move her.

“What are you doing, Satan?”

He leaves Lucifer’s question hanging in the air, more preoccupied with slipping his arms around her upper back and under her knees to cradle her against him. After moving to his knees and then to his feet, he turns to face his brothers with her in his arms.

“Taking her to her room. I thought I could wait until she woke up naturally, but if you’re all going to keep making this much noise…”

“You don’t need to glare at us.” Asmo laughs, “She’s obviously tired from all that studying and partying. Just make sure you put her to bed like a good boy~”

Not even humouring him with a response, Satan leaves the room, acutely aware of his smirk following him out. 

His footsteps seem to echo as he trudges through the hallway, the portraits ever vigilant and watching. Her soft breaths draw his focus, her head tucked in and resting against his chest. A smile creeps onto his lips at the way her curled fingers flex and relax against her chest, almost like a cat kneading its paws. He knows he shouldn’t enjoy this, shouldn’t be watching someone sleep. But his eyes had drifted to her face before he could stop himself and there they now stay, his feet on autopilot as he makes his way to her room.

He readjusts his hold on her, eliciting a soft mumble. Satan stops, afraid that he woke her. She shifts slightly, nuzzling into his chest and resting her head against his collarbone, a breathy sigh ghosting from her lips. He shudders, his fingers tightening against her thigh on impulse, and he’s suddenly extremely thankful for his high-necked shirt, unsure of how he would have handled her breath against his bare skin. Satan scowls and hastens his pace, desperate to leave those rogue thoughts behind and get her out of his arms as soon as physically possible.

The door opens with a soft creak and he shoulders her through into her bedroom. He tuts softly at her leaving her tableside lamp on but smiles at the open book on her bed. A quick skim of the contents confirms it as one of the books he lent to her, his heart fluttering in his chest at the fact.

The bed creaks under their combined weight as he sits on its edge, his previous thoughts of putting her down as soon as possible now no louder than a whisper to his conscience. The weight of her against his legs and in his arms, the calming warmth emanating from her that leaves him oddly restless for more, the way her eyelashes flutter softly in her sleep; suddenly, all Satan wishes for is this moment to last longer than he knows it should.

Freeing his hand from underneath her legs, he rests it atop her knee and stares down at her face, her head still resting against his chest. He can feel a heat creeping onto his face - the same heat from when she hugged him and thanked him so earnestly - yet he can’t find it in himself to dislike the feeling. Hesitantly, he moves his hand and cups her cheek, his fingers and palm moulding to the shape of her face like this is where they belong.

“So warm…”

Mystified and unaware he released his inner thoughts into the open, Satan studies her face while his hand basks in her addictive warmth, his thumb greedy for more as it traces the contour of her cheekbone with the same gentle care of flipping a page. Her shoulders roll back and she leans further into his touch, turning her face into his hand. Satan stiffens at her lips brushing against his thumb, but the happy hum and subsequent deep breath she releases against his skin freeze him in place before he can pull away. 

He was right. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle her breath against his exposed skin.

With a thick swallow, he entertains pressing his thumb into her bottom lip. How it gives way to him so easily is fascinating and he doesn’t know if his thumb is shaking from fear of her waking up and him having to explain what he was doing, or the giddying thrill of chasing this warmth now pooling rapidly within him and begging for more. 

Satan’s breath leaves him stuttered, his eyes following the path his thumb paves over her bottom lip, so soft and so malleable to his touch. He can’t break his gaze away, afraid of the spell shattering and dragging him by the scruff back to reality if he did. He doesn’t want this to end. Just this once, he could indulge himself - he could give in to the feeling instead of fighting it, propriety be damned. All he wants at this moment is to study her lips; what they feel like, how they move, how hot they can grow, how they taste, how…

How they… taste. How… they… 

Taste.

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, and only vaguely registers his fluttering lashes as he opens them again. But the rush of heat cascading over him and pulling him under like a riptide yanks him back to the path of reason. 

Heat bordering on scalding centres at his lips and sends pulses of heat to singe through his entire body. And at its epicentre is her lips, brushing ever so softly against his own.

The yelp that leaves Satan is strangled and confused and he jerks back, suddenly unconcerned over if he wakes her or not. He deposits her onto the bed, almost destroys the switch on the lamp turning it off and makes a break for the door. He curses his hearing for registering a soft mumble from her while he flees, as if taunting him further when she has already taken over the better part of his thoughts. 

Leaning against the closed door, Satan stands stock still, feebly attempting to process what just occurred. How did he even get that close to her? He remembers being entranced by her lips, their softness, their feeling, wanting to taste them…  

He stops before he falls too far back into his thoughts. He’s too hot - his face, his body, his… something that Asmo would be proud of. His blood is boiling for an entirely different reason other than anger. With only the paintings on the walls as his witnesses, he returns to his room on unstable legs, convincing himself that if he sleeps now, everything that happened will be nothing more than a dream.

~

Satan knows better than to repeat the same mistake twice. And he doesn’t plan on doing so. Even with every fibre of his being begging him to save face and strategically disappear until it all dies down, he knows it’s not that simple. Plus, he doesn’t want to avoid her again.

That doesn’t make this walk to the dining hall for breakfast any less daunting. His meandering pace screams hesitance, but he continues to walk forward in the hopes that each step will be easier than the last. It’s not.

He grabs the handle to the door and pushes it open before his brain has a chance to interject, his own pride too great to make him act so cowardly. However, as he steps into the dining hall, Satan is surprised to find it mostly empty. Only one other person sits idly at the long dining table, their elbows resting on the table and their fingers tented with their chin resting atop them, a small, sly grin on their lips greeting Satan as he enters.

“Hello, my dear big brother. Nice of you to join me. I was almost afraid that you’d stood me up.”

A hand on his hip and his lips pressed together with discontent, he replies, “What are you doing, Asmo?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all. Just wanted to have a little heart-to-heart.”

“About?”

“Don’t play dumb, Satan. You know what about.”

He stiffens slightly at the quietly admonishing tone behind Asmodeus�� words. With a sigh, he shuts the door behind him and moves to take his usual seat at the table. The two sit in silence for a moment, Satan’s eyes glued to the table and unable to meet Asmodeus’ inquiring gaze. Then, a bubbly chuckle dispels the serious air, even when Satan lifts his eyes to glare at the offender.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I just find it quite ironic,” Asmo leans in further, his smile widening, “I never thought I’d be sitting here consoling YOU. Maybe the sun will rise in the Devildom tomorrow.”

Satan returns his gaze to the table, his finger tapping against the wood in a purposefully steady pattern.

“Alright, alright.” Asmo sighs, “Joking aside, we’ve all been a bit worried about you recently, one of us especially so.”

The twitch of Satan’s finger against the table urges Asmodeus forward.

“A certain little sweetheart of a human asked us to make sure our dumb brother was taking care of himself. All of that pure warmth and concern of hers going completely to waste…”

His eyebrows furrow, but he says nothing. Asmodeus continues.

“It’s almost like she genuinely cares about him and wants the best for him. Of course, she could just be doing it out of the kindness in her heart, but she seems awfully insistent on spending more time with him than the others. Poor Levi has been throwing himself into his games even more than usual to fight back the envy he feels over that fact.”

“Is that so?”

Asmo shifts to rest his cheek on one palm, his head tilted quizzically and sighing with almost convincing perplexion. He sneaks a glance at Satan, aware of the demon fighting back a smile.

“She’s even been turning me down. ME! And I’m clearly the most beautiful demon in all of the Devildom! She must have bizarre tastes to go after a demon who rips a book in half because his brother says she’s gorgeous, and who ignores her for days because he doesn’t know how to act in front of her.”

His tongue tied, Satan can only convey his guilt and annoyance through his eyes and actions. And Asmodeus registers every single one. Dropping his hand from his chin, he clasps his hands together and leans forward onto his forearms, prompting Satan to meet his oddly serious gaze. Jewels of amber and jade pool together as their eyes meet, the less powerful demon’s gaze oddly paternal and wise compared to his usual self.

“But love and lust do that to people. It makes them do stupid things and makes them fall for stupid people.”

“...”

“Not going to deny it?”

A bitter chuckle, “I don’t have it in me to.”

“Because you have no rebuttal, right?”

Satan’s strained smile wavers slightly. He turns his head down to the table with a cynical, self-deprecating laugh before willing himself to meet Asmodeus’ eye again. “If you had tried to tell me this not even a day ago, I wouldn’t have listened to you. I would have entertained the thought, but never would have admitted it out loud...”

“You still haven’t, you know~” Asmo says with a coy bat of his eyelashes.

“Don’t push your luck.”

A short pause before the two demons let out their soft laughter, alleviating the serious atmosphere. A welcome calm for the whirlwind of Satan’s thoughts, if only briefly.

Love… It IS love that I’m feeling. Heh, I think… I could get used to this feeling.

“Soooo?” Asmodeus inquires, his eyes lighting up as they narrow gleefully, “When did you start falling for our dear little ___?”

“You’re the Avatar of Lust. You tell me.”

The level-headedness of Satan’s response draws a pout to Asmo’s lips. “But I wanna know straight from the source! Unless that means I have to ask her for the details. With enough… persuasion, I’m sure I can get her to tell me anything.”

A wide grin splits Satan’s lips. “Sounds like someone wants their head immortalised in the wall just like Mammon.”

The Avatar of Lust raises his hands up in mock surrender, yet his eyes are peaked with intrigue. 

“I jest, I jest! But wow, you really can’t take a joke when it comes to her, can you?” He tucks a loose strand of his hair back into place and leans in with a smirk, “You’ve got it baaaad. You’re so in loooooove~”

The serene smile on Satan’s face belies the horns growing and curling out of his head, the aura surrounding him dense, like a black hole of barely suppressed rage. Asmo raises his hands again in innocence, movements more stilted and frantic than before.

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Just-“ he taps a finger against one of the obsidian horns as he stands from his seat, “-put those away and do NOT push my face into a wall! You will not ruin the very thing that makes me beautiful, or you will have hoards of succubi coming after you!”

His horns retract with a roll of his eyes, his gaze trained on Asmo as the Avatar of Lust moves towards the door. Satan’s eyebrow raises.

“That’s it?”

Asmo stops, tilting his head back to his brother without fully turning to face him, “What? Were you expecting the ‘a demon should never fall in love with a human’ lecture? I’m not Lucifer.”

Satan snorts, a bitter grin splitting his lips, “Does that mean he knows about this and is going to berate me later?”

Asmo’s shoulders rise and fall with the hyperbole of a stage actor or a five-year-old, Satan choosing the latter as a more accurate description.

“Who knows? I don’t. I haven’t told anyone and, as far as I know, I’m the only one who’s figured out why you’ve been acting so weird around ___.”

He turns his head to face forward again, hiding his beaming, scheming smile from Satan, “But if I were you, I would hash out your feelings now, before all of our brothers figure it out and try to do something stupid. For example… try to stop you, or maybe… try to take ___ for themselves?”

The scrape of the chair against the floor as Satan leaps to his feet has Asmo chuckling despite himself.

“Sorry! Couldn’t help myself.”

Satan’s death stare softens when Asmodeus turns back once again to meet his eyes, the look he sends the Avatar of Wrath oddly kind considering his teasing not five seconds before.

“Just be honest with her and you’ll be fine, Satan. Lust is the body’s way of telling the truth, and love is the same for the heart. Trust your brother on that~”

With those parting words, Asmo takes his leave, leaving Satan to stand there mulling his words over in thought. As he struts down the hallway, Asmo can’t help but let a little sigh escape his lips.

“I meant what I said, Satan. You better snatch her up before I do. Just be thankful that I’m giving you a head start.”

~

He wishes that he could be bold enough to go straight to her and confess his revelation - confess that she has taken over the better part of his thoughts for so long that she has basically denounced him as the Avatar of Wrath altogether.

But, unfortunately for him, his rational side is much more in control than his emotional side, even with the realisation of his feelings for her. Any inkling of thought to approach her, any free chance to change the subject or whisk her away to speak in private is cut off… by his own doing.

Curse you for giving me some of your foolish pride, Lucifer. Satan seethes inwardly, looking for anyone to blame regardless of accountability.

Strolling with palpable irritation through the House of Lamentation’s halls, he pulls his phone out for the umpteenth time today, swiping it open and opening the messaging app. He stares at her contact, top of the list. The last message sent was her sending a sticker, the little demon character smiling brightly at him. With a slow, deliberate inhale, he focuses on dispelling all of his inhibitions with this exhale. Then, with every fibre of his being, he stops himself from thinking and simply lets his thumbs type away against the screen.

                    Satan: Are you busy right now? If not, come to my room for a bit.

He hits send before pausing to look over the message. With his eyebrows furrowing and that just-short-of-comfortable warmth pooling in the depth of his stomach, he types out a second message.

                    Satan: I want to see you.

That message sends a much harsher jolt of warmth through him as he hits send, suddenly self-conscious at his boldness and acutely aware of how direct and clear his message is. Even though he was staring directly at the screen, the vibration of the reply still makes him jump. Scolding himself and shaking his head, he pours his eyes over the screen.

                    ___: Okay! I’ll be there in 10.

Three little dots dance in sequence beneath the text, Satan’s hint to know that she’s typing something else. What appears is a sticker, the little red demon character blushing as it averts its eyes. Satan is quick to mimic the sticker - though unintentionally - his free hand covering his mouth as he turns his eyes to the ground, the heat emanating from his cheeks coursing into his fingertips.

Is that a good sign? I’ve read that courting for humans is the same for demons, but that was a book from the last millennia so maybe it’s changed since then? … I’m reading too much into this. Stop thinking, Satan!

With a grunt and a grimace, Satan continues down the hall, his footsteps heavier with anticipation and nerves. He vaguely registers a side glance and eyebrow raise from Lucifer as he passes him, but he doesn’t stop to process it. Not when the biggest challenge of his life was looming above him and ready to strike.

…

It was the longest ten minutes of this immortal demon’s entire life.

But the soft sound of knocking fills the quiet room and Satan is quick to open the door. He’s greeted by an equally soft smile, her cheeks rising with her clear happiness at seeing him. Satan feels the desire to let his gaze drift down to her lips, but he resists; every interaction with her begins this way after that night, but thankfully he can retain a somewhat normal air without her noticing his gawking.

Without a word, he opens the door further and steps aside. She walks past him as she enters the room, Satan aware of her eyes never leaving him even after he closes the door. Now alone in his room is when Satan begins to feel nerves twist his stomach into knots and swell in his throat like a lodged rock.

“Thank you for coming. I realise it was short notice.” He hopes he sounds normal enough as he says that.

She replies with a soft laugh, “Of course. I always enjoy seeing you.”

Satan swears he feels his ribcage jolt with how hard his heart hammers against his chest. Her words hold such power over him that he starts to second-guess if she might be a wizard like Solomon. He closes his eyes and clears his throat, raising one hand to his hip and the other to his chest.

“Hm. Well, good. I… I do, too.”

Keeping his eyes closed, he finds the words coming to him easier.

“Do you remember when you told me to come and talk to you whenever I needed to?”

“Yeah, I do.” He hears her small heeled boots click once, twice, against the floor, her voice closer than before as she worriedly asks, “Is something wrong?”

Satan swallows thickly. “I wouldn’t say ‘wrong’, per se. It’s just… difficult. I haven’t felt anything like this before, so it was quite the mission to wrap my head around before I could accept the truth.”

The hand at his chest clenches into a fist, his sweater balled into its middle - directly over his heart.

“I found it infuriating at first, and even more so when I became aware of what this was. But now, I’m just angry at myself because I can’t look you in the eyes as I tell you this.”

“Why can’t you?”

An understandable question, yet it tightens the frown on Satan’s face and makes his breath leave him as a hiss through clenched teeth.

“Because looking at you makes me want to--!” He bites his tongue and turns his back to her, the end of his sentence ushering from his lips with remorse and shame, “--it makes me want to kiss you...”

A beat of silence. Enough to convince Satan that everything he has said has ruined their chances at ever having a normal conversation again. 

Her footsteps announce themselves as she steps closer, each one cautious as if she is approaching a frightened yet powerful beast. Gently, she places her hand on his shoulder, and Satan tenses slightly at her warmth - at her warmth only making his own warmth burn hotter.

“Satan.”

Please, don’t do it, he begs silently. But it is ultimately futile.

“Satan, look me in the eye.”

His body moves on its own accord, obeying the pact without any concern for the demon’s reluctance. She doesn’t command him - nor any of the demon brothers - that often through the pacts she made with them, but they know that when she does, it’s serious. Satan turns around, his arms moving to hang rigidly at his sides before his eyes are forced open by demonic influence.

She stands in front of him, no more than a foot away, her head tilted up to meet his eyes. And she looks… beautiful. Her eyes glisten with the beginnings of tears, yet her gaze is clear and focused only on his face. Her cheeks are stained a tempting shade of pink and stretch out to caress her ears. And her lips look so tantalizing and soft as she releases a breath from them. 

For a moment, the two stand there staring at each other, absorbing each other’s palpable emotions and letting themselves get lost in the other’s eyes. Then, she raises her hand and carefully cups the Avatar of Wrath’s cheek with a touch so tender that he forgets himself for a moment. His eyes widen and his lungs halt their breaths, everything ceasing to focus on the warmth and softness of her hand against him.

“___…” Satan breathes out, his voice confused and pleading, desperate for both more and less simultaneously.

The pad of the human’s thumb strokes against the skin of Satan’s cheek, seemingly lost in the act of touching him. He swallows around the lump in his throat and waits for her to speak, the everpresent heat only flaring hotter at the addition of her skin caressing his own.

“Tell me, Satan.” Her cheeks flush further and her eyes communicate hope and affection, “Why do you want to kiss me?”

“Because, I…”

Her hand moves to the back of his neck, her fingers sweet as they comb through his blond hair in a comforting, encouraging way. Lost in her eyes yet emboldened by her actions, his own hand lifts to cup her cheek, his thumb gravitating to push on her lower lip, so plush and perfect.

“Because I love you.”

His whispered words incite the warmth within him, breaking the dam and flooding his entire body with this sweet, addictive heat. Satan moves his thumb, replacing it with his lips as he finally, finally listens to his heart. She hums into the kiss, her fingers gliding further into his hair and tightening her grip, just enough to keep her presence known. Their lips part with incredible reluctance, their faces still so close together that neither can see anything except the other’s lips, both open and ready for more.

“I love you, too.”

… What?

Satan baulks, his breath leaving him as a confused gasp that he couldn’t mask quickly enough. She laughs softly at his confusion, her fingertips moving to brush his fringe out of his face while her other hand moves to grip his shoulder with a comforting squeeze.

“I love your company, your wit, how sweet you can be, your kindness. I love you, Satan. And I want to kiss you, too.”

His heart soars at her words, his brain struggling to catch up. But his body does not wait to react, the heat beneath his skin now burning his blood and fogging his brain. His eyes darken and his breath leaves his lips hot and desperate. Whilst familiar sensations, they feel foreign to Satan, this heat being too… addicting. He wants - no, needs - more.

His inhibitions discarded, his lips reunite with hers with such vigour that she gasps against him. Satan takes the opportunity to trace his tongue over her lips, poking and prodding at them, desperate for access. Her shock subsiding, she gladly relents with a sweet sigh and Satan claims her, his tongue running along the roof of her mouth before seeking out her own tongue to twine with. His hand still holding her cheek, the other loops around her waist and pulls her flush against him, desperate to feel more of her warmth and to share this glorious, suffocating heat with her. Her hands move as well, her grip tightening on his sweater while the other returns to his hair, carding her fingers through it and gripping tight.

Satan inhales sharply through his nose before deepening the kiss. She pulls his hair harder in response, the action spurring him on and making him want more. He sucks her bottom lip between his teeth, toying softly with it, lulling her into safety before biting down. Her groan is let out into the air unmuffled by their kiss, Satan pulling back with her lip still between his teeth. He lets go, letting her catch her breath and letting his eyes rake over the fierce blush on her face and the sweet, swollen velvet red of her lips. He pulls her back for another kiss, his impatience mounting. She returns it eagerly, her gasps and moans chorusing together. Their hands move over each other like the ebb and flow of a tide, each responding to the other and reacting in turn.

Their lips never leaving each other, Satan staggers backwards, urging her to follow. His back hits the door of his room with more force than she expected, her balance skewing and her chest colliding with Satan’s. She releases his lips with a gasp, pulling back to make sure he’s alright, but the hand on her cheek pulls her back in for more, a moaned grunt of satisfaction leaving Satan.

“Don’t stop.” He breathes out against her lips, his words muffled by the kiss he speaks through. 

When she hesitates, Satan moves his hand from her cheek to the back of her head. He lets his fingers be enveloped in the silky river of her hair before gripping it and tilting her head back with just enough force to hurt. She gasps, an edge of pain in her voice, but a whimper follows as Satan attaches his lips to the sensitive skin of her pulse point. Soft yet fierce kisses travel across the plains of her neck down to the collar of her shirt before retracing each step anew, his teeth nipping every so often at her soft skin just so Satan can feel her twitch beneath him. The pleasure he feels pooling within him is incredible, the heat intoxicating and desperate for release.

If I’m not careful, I might just--

His lips reattach to her pulse point, sucking and nibbling at the skin whilst the hand at her waist adjusts to trace his fingers along her spine, relishing in the way her body follows his touch as if begging for more.

I need more.

He moves back up to cherish her jaw, kissing along its edge until he reaches her ear. Her breath leaves her as a shuddered moan when Satan takes her earlobe between his lips, his tongue playful in its caresses and his teeth gentle in its affection against her sensitive organ.

“S-Satan…”

Her saccharine voice makes him sigh, the sound reverberating right into her ear and sending a shiver of pleasure through her. Just before he can return to her waiting lips--

“Satan! You in there?”

The voice and simultaneous knock shock the two in the room, the vibrations of the knock felt through their bodies significantly. In a panic, she buries her face into Satan’s chest to prevent any sound of shock from escaping. His hand still on her head, he gently strokes her hair both to calm her and to compose himself.

“What? I’m busy.”

“Lucifer needs ya. Better come quick before he throws a fit.”

Satan clicks his tongue at Mammon’s awfully timed message, “Alright. I’ll be over shortly.”

“Don’t leave it too long or we’ll both be in deep trouble! And I won’t forgive ya for it!”

His older brother’s heavy footsteps disappear into silence as he leaves, but they remain silent and still for a moment longer just to be safe. Convinced that they’re alone once again, Satan buries his face into the crown of her head and sighs deeply, his breath tousling her locks and wafting the sweet scent of her hair into his nostrils. He feels her nuzzle into his chest and he can’t help but smile at the action, his past thoughts of her being cat-like re-emerging in his mind. 

After another minute enjoying each other’s embraces on borrowed time, Satan begrudgingly pulls himself back. She follows suit, pushing herself from his chest but keeping her hands against him just as an excuse to touch him. Their eyes meet and they share an embarrassed smile, both of them flushed and glowing with a subtle hint of yearning and lust.

“You okay?”

His question makes her smile widen and she stands on her toes to press a ghost of a kiss against his lips, one so quick that he can’t react quick enough to reciprocate.

“More than.” she grins, “The demon I love returns my feelings. How can I not be okay?”

A troubled smile couples with tender eyes to make Satan realise that his heart is definitely going to be tested with this human if she keeps this up. But, the thought of always feeling so pleasantly lost for words and lighter than air doesn’t actually sound that bad to him.

He’s distracted from his thoughts by her hand sweeping a stray blond lock of his hair back into place, her eyes narrowing with unadulterated affection.

“Go on, then. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Lucifer.”

Satan nods, yet neither of them moves. His fingers massage the muscles at her hips, and hers trace over his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt. He can’t help but grin wryly at how easily this human has him in the palm of her hand, but realises that she likely feels the same about him. It makes him happy to imagine but, ultimately, the thought of Lucifer coming after him overpowers his greater desire to stay.

He pushes her away gently by her hips and moves away from the door. Quickly straightening out his clothes, he hesitates to turn to leave as he eyes her face. She raises an eyebrow at him and he lets out a soft laugh.

“One more?”

She rolls her eyes, but her grin and the twinkle in her eyes give her away. Satan closes the distance between them, his hand moulding to the shape of her face as he cups her cheek and his lips doing the same as they meet hers. Slow, smouldering, sweet; the kiss lingers even as they both pull away, the kiss kept short lest they get lost within their passions again.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you come back.” She whispers with a conspiratorial smile, one Satan can’t help but mirror.

With a final, final peck to her lips, Satan pulls himself away from temptation and opens the door to leave, his eyes locked on her for as long as possible before closing the door behind him. The sweet, lingering heat still coursing through his veins simmers gently through him, her warmth and her scent reminding him of her presence despite her absence. He scoffs, yet the smile alighting his lips doesn’t match the sound.

I’m an idiot. And she’s an idiot for choosing me. But, now that I have her, I won’t let her go. This warmth of hers is mine.

As he starts walking towards Lucifer’s room, Satan does his best to school his features to keep the content smile off his face. But he can’t deny that it’s difficult, knowing that she’ll be waiting for him to return. And that she loves him and yearns for him, too.

That fact fills him with sweet, loving warmth.

[falllpoutboy]

fuck it. rey organa solo

or how this scene in the rise of skywalker should’ve went. 

Her training was vigorous and longer than she would’ve liked, but it kept Rey focussed and balanced and she knew deep down that it was necessary. When the battle droids stopped firing, only then was Rey able to slow down into a light jog and then stop altogether. She turned off Luke’s newly fixed lightsaber and turned back into the clearing where General Leia was waiting.

The tropical jungle planet of Ajan Kloss was the Resistants new base, and while it had been a year since they had landed there shortly after the massacre on Crait, Rey still found herself marvelling the beautiful scenery around her. Thoughts about Crait and what happened there began to creep back into her mind, and Rey’s mood soured instantly. She kept replaying it in her head and going over each situation in her head, trying to think about what she could’ve differently. If I hadn’t wasted time with Kylo, I could’ve saved more. I could’ve helped The Resistance. I could’ve saved Luke…

However, deep in her distressing thoughts, she didn’t even realize she had made it back to the clearing. She nearly walked right into the General!

“Whoa, hold on Rey, are you alright?” Leia asked and jolsted Rey out of her trance. Knowing that she should be mindful of her thoughts, Rey shook her head and reassured her. But Leia knew better.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you? Crait. Luke. Kylo…” Leia correctly guessed and Rey knew it was because of her force sensitivity and their bond with each other. When Rey started with Leia, their Force bond was immediately strong and it grew with every session, trial and lesson. Like her bond with Finn, it was ever-present and calming, non-pervasive and genuine, so unlike her unnatural bond with Kylo.

“Yes… I am,” Rey admitted. “How can I not think about it?” 

“It makes you feel low.” Leia surmised again and Rey nods.

“More than just feeling low, but like a failure,” Rey confesses and Kylo’s nasty remarks come to her mind again. You come from nothing, you’re nothing….

“Oh Rey…”Leia sighs and guides her to sit down. “I know that feeling all too well. When the Empire destroyed Alderaan for my lie, I couldn’t help but think of all the ways it could’ve happened. Millions of my people’s lives would have been spared  if I had done something different. Eventually, after my grief passed, I could only come to the conclusion that they were going to use Alderaan as a demonstration of the first Death Star’s might to the rest of the galaxy, no matter what I could’ve said or done. What matters is what we do afterwards to make it was all worth it, to do better and learn from our mistakes and to keep pushing forward,” Leia affirms and she stares into the distance. “It’s a lesson I’ve learned and still am learning today…”

For a few moments, Rey quietly absorbs the General’s words and wisdom. It comforts her but there was still something she’ll never get over…

“There’s still something bothering you?” Leia inquires and Rey slowly nods.

“Before I joined you all on Crait, you know how I went to confront Kylo on Snoke’s ship,” Rey recounted and Leia nods quickly. “When he rejected my help to turn him, he also made an offer in turn for me to join the First Order and become his apprentice to the dark side. He said that I come from nothing, and that I am nothing.... But not to him,” Rey finished bitterly. Suddenly, Leia’s grip on her hand tightened  and her expression hardened as turned to face Rey.

“Kylo lied to you, Rey. You’re not nothing and you don’t come from nothing.”

“Yes, and he said my parents sold me off for drinking money and that they were nothing.”

“He lied again. I have something very important I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, I thought I’d never had the time to, with how busy we’ve been, but truthfully, I’ve been putting it off. I thought if I told you after the war was over you’d understand but its pastime you’d know now. Ben is not Han and I’s only child. We wanted to wait a bit until we had another but then, a bit turned out to be almost 10 years. A daughter was born to us and we named her after my mother, Breha Organa’s mother, Aureyla. But we all called you “Rey” for short. I knew Ben was being corrupted from the darkside since before he was born and when you were only two years old, he had inadvertently hurt you with his abilities. So Han, Luke and I decided to take precautions and enrolled him full time as Luke’s padawan in his new Jedi academy and we hid you away, on Lah’mu, away from the dark influence preying on both of Anakin Skywalker’s descendants. We placed you under the care of the locals and we visited you ever moon cycle, sometimes twice. But we were wrong to have thought you’re identity would stay undiscovered. I guess the Lah-mui saw the famed Rebellion generals Han Solo and Leia Organa too frequently visiting the little girl and put together the pieces,” Leia’s voice breaks and a tear slips down her cheek, but she continues. “When you were just one moon shy of six years old, a few drunk locals took you from your caregivers to Jakku and sold you for drinking money. Greed can be as dangerous of a vice as the dark side is.”

Rey could hardly believe what she was hearing. She wouldn’t have believed what was she heard if it was said by just anybody, having been trained to recognize deceit through the Force, but Rey senses through her bond with Leia that every word she said was true. Every cell within her pulsed and sang with the new revelation, the truth. Finally, finally.

“I… so you’re my…. My mum,” Rey stammered out and General Leia, her kriffing mum, shyly smiles and nods. “If you’re my mum… then Ben is….”

“Your older brother, yes.”

“And Han was my… is my…” Just saying Han’s name made Rey’s heart clench and tears spring to her eyes. The image of his death still burned in her mind and knowing that it was her brother killed their father pushed the tears out. “Did he even recognize me a year ago?”

“He did and when you were taken, we planned to tell you as soon as you were rescued. As the years passed and we still couldn’t find you, Han lost hope the most although I tried reassured him that I knew you were still alive due to our force bond. Your disappearance coupled with Ben succumbing to the darkside and Luke’s exile painfully pushed him back into smuggling and we separated. Please understand that I never game up hope for you, but the First Order rose so quickly and Luke’s disappearance also made it so much more difficult for me to find you. For fourteen years, not a day went by without me thinking about you, Rey.” At that, they both stood up and met in the middle for a bone-crushing hug.

It could’ve been minutes, hours or a few days but time didn’t matter to Rey now, not when she was wrapped in the warm embrace of her mother. Their force bond was so palpable and enrapturing, it filled them with such a feeling of content and happiness, so much that Rey never wished for it to end. Then something dawned on her.

“Wait,” she sniffled, still slightly crying. “You and Han being my parents must mean that Luke is my…”

“Uncle.” A voice Rey never thought she’d hear again sounded from behind her and she gasped when she turned around. It was Luke, but not quite Luke. He wore the Jedi robes she last saw him in but his visage was tinged with an outwardly blue glow and he was nearly transparent. This was the corporeal Force spirit one could project after they’ve died, Rey knew from reading the Jedi texts she took from Ahch-to. 

“So you recognized me too, huh?” Rey questioned, curious to know why he lied to her as well.

“I knew…. But I didn’t care,” Luke admitted, almost shamefully. “I couldn’t make myself care. Then, I asked who you are to see if you even knew but you didn’t, so I didn’t care. I’m sorry I died without having properly greeted my niece and for not treating her with the respect she deserves. And for not being the teacher I should’ve been.”

His sincere apology touched Rey deeply and she smiled at her uncle. She knew now the reason for his indifference and could not hold it against him now. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry for attacking you that night.”

“All is forgiven,” Luke reassured her and he smiled gratefully. “I know this is all coming as a shock to you, I thought my parents were nobodies too until I got a rude awakening.”

“Luke, you can’t hold that against me forever,” another voice chimed in and Rey and Leia whirled around to see what it was. Another force spirit had appeared, a man older than Rey but younger than Luke and Leia, dressed in Jedi robes with shoulder length hair and bore a strong resemblance to Luke and Leia, even herself. 

“Father,” Luke greeted warmly and walked around to him.

“Anakin,” Leia acknowledged him but stayed close to Rey. Father… Anakin… Skywalker. My grandfather.

“All of our family’s problems seems to just repeat themselves,” Luke mused and then remembered himself. “Father, this is Aureyla, Leia and Han’s daughter. She wields our lightsaber now.”

Rey didn’t think she’d be making introductions to the notorious Darth Vader when she woke up earlier, but here she was. A lame “Hi” was all she could manage to say.

“From what Luke has told me, you’re strong in the ways of the Force. As strong or even stronger than me. Rey, you could be the one to bring balance once and for all and destroy the Sith foever. But you will be tempted and tested,” Anakin firmly stated. “Don’t fall victim to the dark side as your brother did, try to overcome it with everything you have.”

“A thousand generations live in you now…. But this is your fight,” Luke adds. However, Rey still has one more inquiry to make.

“What about Ben? I know he’s been seduced to the dark-side and has chosen it over and over, but what if there’s still a chance he could be saved,” Rey asks and her relatives look uncertain. “I don’t know if I can kill my brother knowing there’s a chance he could change.”

An uneasy silence falls over then and then Anakin speaks up. “You’ll do what feels right. Your instincts and feelings will guide you towards the answer. You can make your choice to save him, whilst Kylo can choose to continue his path and ignore any other options. You’ll know what to do then.”

The unspoken words were there, plain as day: If he won’t make the choice to join you and save himself, kill him or let him die. It left a bad taste in her mouth but Rey knew she would have to make the hard decision herself when the time again. Her father’s death flashes before her eyes again and Rey knew Kylo would have at least that to answer for. She nods grimly.

“I wish we all could’ve been a family together, Rey laments and Anakin’s eyes soften. “There’s so much I want to know about you all.”

“We’ll be with you Rey. Soon, after this is over, we’ll appear to you and we’ll talk about whatever you’d like,” Luke consoles her.

“May the Force be with you,” Anakin proclaims and they suddenly depart with a soft fade. Taking their advice and wisdom to heart and mind, Rey looks to her mother with resolve. 

“Let’s go Mum, we’ve got a war to win.”

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm (part29)

Part 29 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count:   4361 Warnings: language,flashbacks to NY, angst, fear, evasive memory search, mutation take over, fighting, unconscious shannon(OFC) Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Two days later, and you were back at the mansion, with most of the X-Men still in the training room. This time, they didn’t separate you and Shannon. Instead, they thought perhaps the powers might affect each other, they also thought if Shannon were nearby you wouldn’t feel as much like a lab rat or science experiment.

Steve and Logan stood on security detail, monitoring your every move. Jean and Charles were studying you. Remy and Scott stood on morale detail, trying to keep your spirits raised if you got discouraged, and to make you feel more comfortable since they were your good friends as well.

“Alright, Jean, whenever you’re ready to start I’ll go,” Shannon said waiting to see how they would approach both yours and her powers today.

Both Gambit and Scott had gotten closer to both of you and had begun taunting you two to see who would burst first.

“Shannon, how does it feel knowing your best friend can never walk in broad daylight again?” Scott had said to her, causing you to get upset that they would start like that. He had done some research on the attack and found a few videos of you attacking her, and who they believed was Loki being taken somewhere.

“Really, Scott? That's how you're gonna start things?” she asked, sounding a little disappointed and hurt. “She’s my best friend and knowing that she can’t go out with me for simple things hurts. It hurts more knowing…” she stopped herself, looking over at you and her heart broke a bit having to remember the events of that day.

For a moment they noticed that she went into a trance. Worried a bit, Scott got closer to see what was going on. Jean was curious as well and had begun walking towards her too, only to be blown back by a strong energy mixed with wind. Jean noticed that Shannon’s eyes had turned milky white and had hints of purple swirls in them. Scott jumped back when he saw her flinch in her trance and red beams came out of her eyes identical to his.

“Hmm, it seems as if she is in her memories are frozen in the time of the attack,” Jean said while dusting off her skirt. “Scott, try to get her to talk about what she’s seeing,” she instructed while looking at her.

“I’ll try my best but it’ll be hard trying to get close and not know how her mutation will react.” He cautiously inched closer.

Meanwhile right nearby, Gambit was trying to get some sort of reaction out of you. “So this Loki fellow, he all that? He really what they say he is?”

Your eyes flashed to his. “I’m not sure. I don’t know what ‘they’ say he is,” you informed.

“Some poor bastard who couldn’t keep his temper in check and only wanted to wreak havoc.” He smirked seeing that he’d started to get some sort of reaction out of you. “Sounds to me like a whiny brat looking for daddy’s attention.” He laughed at his own comment.

“Remy, don’t,” you warned, purple energy sparking on your finger tips. “He isn’t like that. He… he couldn’t help what happened to him.” You gritted your teeth. “It wasn’t like that!” you retorted, your voice raising.

Just then it seemed like Shannon had latched onto your emotion and had begun mixing with her own. The same purple energy that sparked from your fingers had begun to appear around her. She was no longer in a trance but her eyes had yet to change back into her normally dark brown hue. She began advancing towards Scott.

“Jean, I’m not liking any of this… Should I really be getting this close to her?” Scott asked, his voice wavering, and started moving away from her.

”Why are you running, Scott? Scared I’ll hurt you?” Shannon smirked as she kept getting closer. “You’re the first person to realize how much of a threat I could be.” She laughed.

“Shannon, relax, don’t do anything you’ll regret. You know this isn’t how I feel.... We’re good friends…  Remember that,” he had stuttered out.

“Oh, Scott but we are good friends, at least I’d like to believe we are…” She stopped talking. It looked like she was thinking of something. Jean seeing this was going nowhere looked inside her head to see what kept stopping her.

Over where you and Gambit were, you had been circling each other, he kept egging you on and he seemed to find it entertaining to mess with you. “All talk and no play huh, Y/N/N?” He had started charging som cards behind his back. “Is he like that too? Bet he gets annoying being locked up together, you two fight about him not completing his mission?” He asked you a million questions each one getting worse than the last.

“Not another word about him, Remy,” you cautioned through clenched teeth, your fists balling up. The purple energy charged all the way up to your shoulders.

“Alright, that’s quite enough, Gambit,” Charles suddenly interjected from his wheelchair.

Logan stepped up from behind Remy and gently pulled him back, not trusting you or your anger. He saw something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before.

Charles peered at you, and he could tell you weren’t registering anything around you now.  This put him on edge, so he jumped straight into your mind, trying to figure out just exactly what was triggering you, causing the problematic surge.

Was it watching Shannon be mocked or put in distress? Was it feeling trapped due to the amount of people in the room? Was it making you remember the traumatic events of New York? Was it pressing your buttons about being imprisoned? Or was it about the famed man who was your fellow inmate?

Jean had been in Shannon’s mind for a while but had found what had happened in New York. She saw how much pain she had gone through seeing what you had done to her when you kidnapped her and then the fight over a man she barely knew. Jean could see how much the events had affected her and figured it had something to do with this so called Loki… She’d have to speak to Charles about this for the next time you two came in.

—————-----

It was the next morning that Tony and Shannon were in the middle of their morning routine that Tony asked her, “Have you been by to see Professor X, yet?”

Tony was in the bedroom getting dressed when he asked, but Shannon stood in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. A feeling of guilt and dread clenched inside her stomach. Had he found out about breaking you out?

“Uh, yeah,” she answered a little hesitantly.

In a second, Tony was in the bathroom, about to slap on some cologne. “Babe, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“We’ve both been so busy…” she said, averting some of the truth.

“But you’re getting help. That’s amazing. Has he said anything? Have they found out the issue?”

“They’re getting closer,” she informed before swiping on some quick, light makeup for the day.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek from behind. “That’s so good to hear, dear. I’ve got a board meeting today, and I’m going to introduce that new prototype, so I might be late for dinner.”

“That’s fine,” she assured. “I’ll be busy with work and errands. I’m going to see Charles again today, probably.”

“Sounds good. See you tonight?” he asked, walking backwards and pointing at her.

“Absolutely,” she responded with a grin. She hated lying to him, it nearly made her physically sick, but when it came to this… she knew Tony’s emotions would blind him and he wouldn’t see it the way she did. He would’ve have allowed you to leave, and get the help you needed.

Meanwhile, you were downstairs with Loki, trying to move past the argument you two had.

“Leaving again, are we?” he asked coolly.

You sighed, not looking up at him from where you made yourself a cup of coffee. “Yes, I am… to get help… you know, for the powers that were pushed into me against my will…”

Loki peered over at you, assessing you. By now, he knew you pretty well. The two of you had lived together for nearly two years, if you counted the imprisonment here and on Sanctuary. And he could tell that for once, it was his own insecurities getting in the way. He was concocting all of these terrible ideas and outcomes for you two. He worried you would sell him out. He worried you would strike a deal and never come back to that cell again. He worried that you only stayed close to him on Sanctuary because you were friends before lovers. He worried that now, now that you had a chance to get away, get far away from him -- you might.

But no… Something in the way that you still took care of him, still looked after him, still smiled when seeing him walk in a room let him know that just this once, he was being foolish and talking himself into lies he knew were not true.

“You think it’s really helping?” he asked genuinely.

You heard the change in his voice so you stopped putting sugar in your coffee to give him your full attention. “Yes… I do. As soon as we find out what’s wrong with this dark energy, maybe they can get it out of me, and I’ll be back home to you.”

Loki scoffed lightly. “You can’t really call this a home, can you?”

The tiniest of smiles touched the corner of your lips before you brought one hand up to touch his cheek.

“Home is wherever you are.”

-----------------------------------------------

Shannon had finally finished the gift she had for the two down below. It had taken a while but with the help of all the photos and videos that you had sent of Asgard, she was able to recreate a holographic version of what you two called home and inserted everything from all over the world so you could see wherever you pleased, hoping to make the room a lot less bleak and much more pleasant for both of you.

She made her way to the elevator with everything and the boots to one of Tony’s suits in hopes of getting it installed all on her own. Getting out of the elevator with the equipment, she could hear talking and hoped that they weren’t fighting.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything but I have a surprise for you two and hope that this will bring some sort of change,” she said to them looking hopeful as she hustled into the room outside of their cell.

Begrudgingly, you pulled away from Loki and cleared your throat. “Not at all, Shannon,“ you assured. “What's up?”

“I’ve finally finished what I had created for you two, that little gift I had been telling you about?” she asked, trying to get you to remember. “Well here it is. It might not look like much right now but once I install it, I bet you’re going to love it!” She pointed to the things on the trolley.

You lightly laughed. “Okay.” Shannon was… whimsical as always. That little gleam of mischief in her eye. Why were you drawn to people that were coy?

“All I need to do is get up to the top of this cell and connect a few wires to the main server and set up these sensors,” she explained as she put on the boots from one of the Iron Man suits, flying onto the top of the cell you ran to see where exactly she would land.

“How exactly will we be able to use this gift of yours?” you asked, wanting to know more about what she was doing.

“Once everything is installed and connected to the server it will work with just a few simple voice commands. I’ll show you when I’m done here.” She quickly got the sensors installed in all four corners of the room a well as one at the very top of the room. “Alright now if you two could please come to the living room, and close your eyes and tell me where exactly you wish you could see?” she asked you two.

You followed her orders, taking Loki’s hand and leading him to the stark white living room with black leather furniture. “I don’t know… Darling, what would you like to see?” you asked, peering up at him.

“I’m not sure… Anything is better than this cell,” he commented.

“Asgard?” you tried, speaking to both him and Shannon.

“If that’s what you both wish to see... Then if you could please close your eyes?” she asked, figuring that’s what you two would choose.

She entered the apartment and headed to the office to turn on the holograms. “Show me Asgard,” was all she said and behind closed eyelids you saw a flash. “You can open your eyes now.”

As soon as your eyes opened, you gasped -- a happy, shocked, thrilled gasp. On the walls that typically only showed gray concrete were splashes golds, greens, and vibrant blues, pinks, and purples. It was the foliage that was surrounding the waterfall you had gone to. It was the first place Loki had let you take his picture. Water fell from the magnificent cliff, making rainbows along the mist of the pond down below. Everywhere you turned it was an oasis.

But not an oasis that you made up or that Shannon pulled from the internet. These were real pictures of Asgard, stitched together. It brought a tear to your eye.

“This is incredible,” Loki commented.

“It truly is. Thank you, Shannon. This is amazing. This is the best gift,” you noted.

“The best gift would’ve been freedom,” Loki mumbled before you elbowed him in the ribs.

--------------------------

Today, the gang was the same. The same X-men, with Steve in there as protection, ready to take you down if need be. They had you and Shannon face each other. They had an inkling of what triggered both of your powers, and they were about to test it.

Charles got inside your mind, while Jean nestled inside Shannon’s, ready to monitor the thought processes as the team tested the triggers out. Before the women had arrived, Charles had given instructions to the X-Men to try and taunt you with New York, failings, and Loki.

“Hey, Y/N/N, good to see you again,” Remy said as he circled you, that charming smirk on his face. “Of course, if you didn’t fail in takin’ over the planet, we could be talkin’ like normal now. Instead of all this cloak and dagger business.”

The first cut was made, reminding you of your failings.

“Who says I failed?” you challenged. “Maybe I wanted to lose,” you retorted.

“Right,” he laughed. “Because sittin’ in a cell with a momma’s boy is so excitin’.”

“The way I hear it, he was given the best weapon in the galaxy, and still couldn’t wield it,” Scott added. “That’s just sad. Wouldn’t you say so, Logan?” he asked, intentionally being a prick, turning to Wolverine with his arms crossed.

“I’d say that’s pretty pathetic,” Logan agreed, a cocky expression painting his face.

Before you knew what was happening, you spun, your energy building up in your hands. The dark purple power was just about to shoot out of your hands but Scott shot you back with his the energy from his eyes, knocking you backwards. As soon as you were standing, Steve and Logan grabbed your arms to keep you from propelling your power towards anyone.

“Stop, please,” Shannon begged, her eyes becoming milky red, purple swirling inside them. Outside, thunder could be heard on what was a clear, bright day only moments before.

“Oh, come on, Shan,” Scott said. “We’re only messing with her. It’s not like she’s in jail for life for it… Oh… Wait…”

“Knock it off, Scott,” Shannon warned again.

“Why? Can’t take the fact that Y/N/N over here nearly killed you for a piece of ass she barely knew?”

With that, lightening began hitting the bunker, making everyone’s eyes look up to inspect the sound.

An almost animalistic sound came from you as they taunted you and her. The mocking of Loki and your relationship was not being tolerated well by you. Not to mention how they were bothering Shannon.

In an instant, the energy that was tingling up your arms nearly tripled, blowing the two men off of you. As soon as you were away from them, you started to go towards Shannon, the action making Steve worry -- but then you stood in front of her, almost as if to protect her. Just as you turned to fight off Scott though, the field between you two became stormy.

A dark cloud of purple energy ignited between you, making you two peer at each other in confusion.

“Just as we had suspected. The thing that triggers both of your powers happens to be whenever something negative is mentioned about the one person you care about,” Jean said pointing towards both women and their current state of emotion. “For you, Y/N, it’s when Loki’s spoken badly about. And for you, Shannon, it’s Y/N. She’s the main cause for the energy to manifest,” she explained and pointed at both of you. “But yours is worn out with increased highs or lows in emotional situations.”

It took you both a moment to realize that the conclusion they had made was true. You being talked to in any negative way caused the energy to spike and make Shannon weaker in strength. You tried not to believe that your dark energy would always be triggered whenever Loki was badmouthed to you.

While both of you were lost in thought, Logan and Steve took the opportunity to separate you so that Shannon couldn't feed off your anger and make her own worse.

“Logan! Let me go, put me down,” Shannon yelled making the room shake and caused the light to flicker a moment.

“Not until you’re far enough away from Y/N that you won’t have your powers go nuts,” he grunted as she made him struggle to move her away. “You know it's for your own damn good,” he sounded resolute having gotten her all the way to the other side of the room.

“I said, Let. Me. Go!” She was getting angrier by the second and her eyes went from a milky red to a bright purple with spots of red. The sky was completely blacked out and the only light was from the lights in the room.  Without realizing it, Shannon had lifted up one of the sharpest objects and had it facing Logan.

He stopped moving but wouldn’t let her go. “Now listen, kid, the only way you’ll get that thing to even touch me is if it goes through you too,” he said with a bit of confidence. Which only seemed to boost her anger even more. She had the object come flying at an incredible speed and she felt his breath hitch.

“You’re so wrong on that one, Logan…” She laughed, the object going through her as if she weren’t there and it stuck out the back of of Logan. “I can make it only hit you, my dear friend.” She smirked as she felt him loosen his grip. She slammed her head into his nose and got out of his grip.

“Shannon, stop this at once!” Charles warned her but she was being controlled by the dark energy inside her.

Steve did the same with you, pulling you as far away from his friend as he could. Not wanting to have you cause anymore trouble for Shannon.

“Steve, please let me go. You know I would never do anything to harm Shannon…” you pleaded feeling useless knowing you were at your weakest point. “I just want to get this dark energy out of me, you have to believe me.” You turned to look at him hoping he could see the sincerity in your eyes.

“I’m sorry but I can’t risk you hurting her again like the last time, and I know you want to get rid of it but it won't be enough until it's gone,” came from him, his voice full of sadness and pity. His response left you feeling defeated.

Hearing Charles warn Shannon, you and Steve look over just as she had walked away from Logan and watched him fall to his knees. Steve acted quickly by running towards her only to get pushed back by a strong wind and have objects pin his feet where he stood.

“Shannon, this isn’t you. Don't let those powers do something you’ll never be able to forgive yourself for,” Steve said, trying to get through to her but nothing seemed to be working.

They could all see that it was taking a toll on her as she began to look pale and although the energy was still strong, there were moments it would flicker. She began losing her balance and the room had begun to tip for her. Not wanting to cause her more damage you had a pillow positioned right where her head fell as she hit the ground. The purple haze had begun to fade but still surrounded her as if to keep her protected.

“I believe it’s time we take her to her old room to let her recover and run some tests on her while doing so,” Charles said, wanting to make sure that she was okay and there was no internal damage. He would also slip into her subconscious to figure out more. “Jean, if you and Scott could take Logan to the infirmary get him checked out?”

“Yes, Professor Xavier,” they both said in unison.

“I’ll need you, Y/N, to head to her old room and prepare the bed for her,” Charles said to you wanting you to do something to help.

“Right away, Charles…” You looked over to Remy. “Wanna walk me to her room?” you asked not feeling safe to walk the halls alone.

“Sure thing, darlin’,” was all he said.

“I’ll pick her up and take her there if you’d like?” Steve offered. “I’d like to stay by her side to make sure she’s okay.” He walked over to Shannon lifting her with ease.

----------------------------

“JARVIS, where is Shannon?” Tony asked when he wrapped up his meeting.

“I believe she has left to go to the Xavier mansion, sir, with Captain Rogers,” he responded.

“Ah, that’s a shame. I was going to go tell the prisoners down below some good news. Thought she might want to be with me, but I guess I can tell her later.”

With that, he quickly left his conference room and stepped into an elevator, descending down, deep down into the basement.

“JARVIS, remind me to tell Shannon the news that Fury has chosen to give them a chance,” he said as he was nearing the floor.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark, anything else?” the Al asked.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything else,” he told the Al.

“Hello there you two, how’s the view in here?” Tony joked as he walked into the room but stopped short when he looked to see the once gray concrete walls covered with the view of Paris.

“Hello, Stark. Always lovely to see your face.” Loki smirked seeing the look of confusion on his face. “What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Loki laughed at Tony walk around the room looking at the four walls.

“How in God’s name did this get here?!” Tony looked livid not knowing how to react. Why had this been done? How had he not been informed? “How is it possible that you’re looking at the view of Arc de Triomphe?” he asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

“Illusion?” Loki stated, his arms behind his back, a cunning grin cutting across is striking face.

“No, uh-uh. Thor told me what you can do. You can’t project images, not like this,” he said, pointing to his side. “There’s no way you’d know what this place is,” he added.

“I’m not sure what to tell you,” Loki said innocently. If Stark didn’t know about it, then clearly Shannon did not fill him in on her generosity. Loki felt it wasn’t his place to expose her.

“JARVIS! Bring me footage of when these images were installed in this room,” he yelled a bit trying to figure out what's going on or how the hell any of these things in the cell came about. Jarvis sent the footage to Tony’s phone. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. But if I find out you’ve escaped or tampered with this cell in any way I’ll --” He stopped, looking at the footage and seeing Shannon come in what looks like two days ago with a bunch of things. His blood boiled seeing her enter the cell and talk to you like it was nothing.

“You’ll what?” Loki mocked. “Keep me down here forever?”

Tony thought for a moment. Cells didn’t bother Loki, and he knew that he was a prisoner for life… He needed to leverage something that would truly hurt him.

“I’ll make it so you never see Y/N again. Separate cells, separate nations. So you better think of a real good alibi.”

As he turned, Loki’s face actually showed shock and worry.

“Did you come down here for something?” Loki asked, the anger and annoyance in his voice not wavering, despite the fear that was now nestled in his chest.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony called over his shoulder.

Tony told his AI to get one of his faster cars ready for him. To blow off steam, he thought he would help support Shannon while she got these tests and trials ran on her. He quickly jumped into his car, and sped off for upstate New York.

Unforseen Chasm Tag list- @reigningqueenofwords @oldfreakything @weclassygirl @adefectivedetective​ 

@dontbetooobvious

Tag list- @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @winchester-writes @winchesterenthusiast   @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog   @sammysbuttcheek @misz-adrii @sandlee44 @womanxofletters @natsuccs @childishhoebinoo @expecteddifferent @girl-next-door-writes @fanaticfanfiction @dakotapaigelove @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell

[inherlikeness-blog]

💓 A memory about their friends

The two-year-old in his arms had finally fallen asleep.

Norman wasn’t entirely sure what to do with her now. He didn’t usually help much with putting the particularly young ones to bed, but Emma had asked him at dinner – pleaded, really (not that it would’ve taken much), assuring him she was sure Mama would be fine with it and Sherry liked him so well, anyway, it’d be fine, he’d see! And what else was he supposed to do but return his baffled agreement? It was true, little Sherry did like him, and despite being a little surprised, Mama didn’t seem to mind when he joined her and his two sisters with a sheepish smile and a helpless shrug.

He’d spent the past half hour helping to lull the little ones to sleep, youngest to oldest, in a rather practiced ritual. The ones who tended to go right to sleep were laid down first, and the more difficult ones were calmed separately before being laid down. Their newest arrival, Jasper, seemed to be unusually fussy and kept disturbing the others, at which point Mama decided to have him sleep in her room for the night, but for the most part, it was simply a matter of having enough hands to soothe their nine youngest siblings in a timely manner. All he really had to do was hold a couple of his baby siblings for a while, which he never particularly minded, but –

Mama returned just then from laying Jasper down in her room, and at the sight of her son with his baby sister snuggled to his chest, she paused to smile fondly. He returned it, feeling a little out of place, but nevertheless happy. It hadn’t been nearly as difficult as he expected. Selena, his eldest sister and the only one besides Mama who was allowed into the babies’ room, appeared behind the woman from putting one of the children in his crib. When she spotted Norman, she put a hand up to muffle a snort.

“You’d make a good mom, huh, Norman? Better than me,” she remarked, teasing despite speaking softly enough not to wake their little sister. “Maybe you should help Mama instead of Emma when I leave.”

Emma would probably kill him if that happened. Only the girls had ever helped with caring for the babies, though, as far as he knew. “I’d help with her,” he replied, just as softly.

Mama moved to gently extricate Sherry from his arms. The little girl had a fistful of his shirt. Aw. He gently pried her hand open, despite himself. “There’s no need for that. I’m certain Emma, Gilda, and I will be able to handle it.” Mama’s tone was more amusement and affection than reprimand, though.

“Right, he’s never changed a diaper anyway, so he’d be useless.” Selena crossed her arms and nodded sagely. Norman had definitely changed diapers, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Mama simply sighed at her daughter’s warmongering tendencies, and he reached up to pat her shoulder with a sympathetic smile. (His sister huffed.)

“You may go, Norman,” his mother told him, smiling at him again. “Thank you for your help.” Norman bid them goodnight and left to find where Emma had gotten to. Judging by her behavior for the previous week, he thought he had some idea of what the problem was, but he wasn’t sure what exactly she might be doing…

He found her in his room, remarkably enough. He’d intended to find Ray and ask him if he’d seen her, but when he got to the doorway, she was flopped on Ray’s bed, holding a pad of paper at arm’s length above her face and staring up at it with a frown. Ray, for his part, was ignoring the girl lying on his feet and had his nose buried in a book he’d snagged from the library. They weren’t technically allowed to take books from the library, but Mama seemed to look the other way in Ray’s case. Maybe because the boy would never see the light of day if he couldn’t bring a book with him outside.

When she noticed him in the doorway, Emma popped her head up with a delighted, “Norman!” and bounced up and onto the bed beside Ray’s, on her knees now. He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm to see him. “Come here! I need help!” she proclaimed.

Obediently, he crossed the room to perch on the side of his bed, looking curiously at her. “With what?”

She pursed her lips. “I’ve been trying to write a letter for Selena…but I don’t know what to write!”

Ahhh, that would do it. Their oldest sister was supposed to leave tomorrow, after all. She’d finally been adopted by a family, and finally would be able to leave Grace Field House. Emma must have wanted time to write while their sister couldn’t walk in on her…though she’d apparently not managed to finish it. “Let me see what you’ve got so far.” She hesitated, but reluctantly handed over the tablet.

There was a “Dear Selena,” of course, followed by a short paragraph that seemed to be a mixture of Emma’s enthusiasm and Ray’s probably reluctant suggestions. Some of this wording was definitely his brother’s. Unsurprising, despite the boy’s effort to act like he was just tolerating Emma invading his personal space. Norman found himself smiling by the time he finished reading; her bright attitude radiated love in every word. But…

“You can’t think of anything else to write, huh?” Emma nodded miserably, looking genuinely distressed over the matter. Norman looked at the writing again and picked his words carefully, not wanting her to assume he thought it was silly. “It’s fine, but there’s not gonna be a lot to write to her about when nothing’s even happened since she left…” He paused and smiled at her softly. “You want to send it right after she leaves so she’ll get it as soon as possible, right? Or even send it with her?”

“Well, what would you do?” she demanded, agitated by his unhelpful response, and flopped down with her head in his pillow. Norman laid his hand on her arm and rubbed his thumb in a circle.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He’d contributed to group letters to send off to their siblings, but the ones he was closest to hadn’t left yet. He tried to think of what he would do if Emma or Ray were adopted, and…he’d thought about it before, but it was a scary prospect. He didn’t want to be without them. But adoption was supposed to be a happy occasion, a start of a new life (no matter how much they loved this family), so he’d always tried not to think too hard about it. It got harder with each passing day, each sibling that left. When would their turn come?

“This is dumb,” Ray piped in. Norman’s head jerked up to look at him, shocked, but the black-haired boy had turned his face slightly toward their window, away from them.

“Ray–” he started.

“Then what about you, Mr. My-only-friend-is-a-book?” Emma was sitting up now, looking furious. But it hurt her, more than anything, Norman was certain. He moved his hand to her back gently. “What would you do if one of us got shipped off?!��� Ray was very, very still. “Don’t act like you don’t care!”

Their brother said nothing, and Emma huffed pointedly, angrily, and then curled up facing away from him. Norman glanced between them, feeling uncertain of what he should do, before lying down beside Emma and pulling her close. She didn’t fight him, tucking her head down against his chest and then sighing very softly, uncharacteristically distressed.

“You’re scared?” Norman realized, suddenly. Emma didn’t respond, but he was sure of it now. “This is all just because you’re scared of taking over all of Selena’s responsibilities, isn’t it?”

It took a few moments, but she did reply, this time. “Not just that…I’m gonna miss her, and she’s the only one Phil listens to…and since Genny got adopted, she’s the only one who knows how to do everything with the babies, so who will I ask if I mess up?” She wasn’t crying, but she sounded earnestly anxious. “I didn’t know what to do, so I wanted to do something, but…”

Norman didn’t know what to say. His heart ached for her; he’d be scared too, now that he thought about it. She didn’t want to let Mama down, or Selena, or any of their little siblings who relied so much on their sisters. And most of the responsibility fell to her. She was the only 10 year old girl in the house, right now. Gilda would be old enough to help with everything in another year, but until then, a lot of the responsibility fell on Emma’s shoulders. He rubbed her back silently for a minute.

“…I’ll help,” he found himself saying, as the thought formed in his head. Emma tilted her head back to look up at him, startled. He smiled in return. “I’ll help. With what I can, anyway.” She looked at him with big eyes for a moment, and then beamed, hugging him around the chest. His heart fluttered.

“Norman…thank you!” He felt tongue-tied, unsure what to say, but hugged her back as well as he could. She looked up at him again after a moment, chin resting against his chest. “There’s a lot you can’t do, though… And it’s not like you know things better than I do, not like Selena does…” She worried her lip, sounding anxious again, looking past him at the wall in thought. He opened his mouth to assure her that she could figure it out, they could, when Ray’s voice cut in again.

“You should just talk to her.” Norman looked toward his brother’s bed and found the other’s back to them, lying on his side, book closed and set aside. “This is dumb,” he repeated, a little more softly, “when you can just go talk to her right now and deal with it.”

Emma had rolled onto her back to aim a glare Ray’s direction, but sounded significantly less angry when she spoke. “I have talked to her! I just–”

“Look.” Ray pushed himself up suddenly, turning to face them with an annoyed expression. “Neither of us is gonna be able to tell you that you’re gonna do great. I barely know anything about taking care of kids, and I know Norman’s not much better. You’re worried ‘cause Selena is leaving and you aren’t sure you’re gonna be able to do what she does, but the only person who can tell you whether or not you can is her. Just go do it right now, while she’s still here. There’s no point writing a letter someone won’t…be able to answer all that quickly anyway. And besides…” He paused, suddenly interested in the knob on the nightstand’s drawer between their beds. “You’re not Selena, you’re Emma. So if you do it a little differently, that’s…probably fine, I guess?”

Emma was silent. Norman looked between her and Ray, propped up on his elbow now so he could see better, and wondered if he should say something. But before he could begin to think of what, the girl jumped from the bed and grabbed Ray in a hug.

“You’re right…I should just take care of it now. Thank you, Ray!” She squeezed him tight, and Ray made a little choked noise. “Sorry, uh…sorry I yelled at you before.” Ray didn’t say anything, frozen momentarily. Norman saw him begin to raise his arms, but before he could do anything, Emma pulled away and was making for the door, talking over her shoulder with renewed vigor on the way. “Norman, just throw out that letter! I’ll write a new one when I can tell her how I’m doing at everything!”

Norman just watched her go, a little slack-jawed. He turned back just in time to see Ray flop back, legs hanging off the side of his bed still. He smiled sympathetically, though his brother couldn’t see it. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to tell her…” He didn’t know if he’d have gotten around to that conclusion or not, but clearly Ray was several steps ahead, despite his lack of tact. Ray gave the tiniest shrug and said nothing. Huh. Norman sat up properly to face him, looking curiously at him. “You were probably thinking that from the start, but you still helped her with writing the letter?”

“Thought it’d be enough to make her feel better.” He rolled onto his side. At this angle, Norman couldn’t see his face.

“It would’ve saved you the trouble to just tell her to talk to Selena right away, though, huh?”

“Guess so.” Norman waited and Ray sighed through his nose, lightly. “You guys were busy with the babies, though. Wouldn’t have been able to talk to her anyway.”

That was true. Emma wouldn’t have been able to really talk to her sister while trying to get the kids to sleep, and with her going in and out of the room. Not that Norman really needed a specific reason that Ray waited, it was just…weird. So was the fact that he helped with the letter at all. They’d written letters – papers covered with a series of notes from all the kids, really – to their beloved siblings before, and Ray never had anything to contribute, to Norman’s memory. So…

“You really are a softie, aren’t you? I don’t think it would kill anyone if you acted like it more often, either.” Least of all you.

“Nah,” Ray replied, flippant. “You do enough of that for both of us. I’m good.”

Norman had the grace to chuckle. “Well, at least I know somebody’s got my back.” It was an offhand, affectionate thought. Ray offered no response, and Norman thought about pulling his leg about the matter – what, you don’t? – but something seemed…off, melancholy, about the other’s silence. That always seemed to happen when one of their siblings was adopted; his own way of coping with how he’d miss them, Norman suspected. And he only knew one way to even begin trying to deal with it.

He slid off his own bed and made himself comfortable on Ray’s, content to lie behind the other’s back and reaching for the forgotten book to examine it. His brother didn’t acknowledge him, but didn’t complain either. He never did, on the nights before someone was supposed to leave.

Tonight, though, he took a gamble. “You could talk to her while she’s here, too,” he said, softly.

Ray was silent for a long moment, and then finally mumbled, “Wouldn’t help me.” Norman didn’t know what else to say, so until their other roommates came to get ready for bed, they lay in quiet.

(And when he thought back on it later, he hated that he never asked.)

[emeraldtawny]

Siren/Pirate!AU MC, Oliver & Loki - Secrets In The Fog

Guys....before you continue down this rabbit-hole, the original AU is by the absolutely amazing @chiefofpigs so you should definitely read her relationship chart and how this story begins !

SO! Once again, I am incapable of keeping a story brief but this AU literally breathes life into my veins and as soon as I saw Loki’s inclusion into this AU, I knew I had to include him so here we are I seem to love including Oliver as minor roles in my stories recently....huh  ANYWHO! Here is my first fic of 2019, and it’s using an amazing writer’s AU so all the better~! ;3

~

Another quiet night.

The thought passes through her head as the young woman moves through the tavern she works at with ease, her presence both soothing and uplifting to the patrons around her. The regulars know very well of the bubbly yet soft-spoken tavern waitress; how the curl of her lips as she offers you a drink is truly genuine, or how she will always ask you about your day, not from obligation but from interest. Newcomers or travellers passing by for a quick drink enjoy the change of pace, appreciating the somewhat rare expression of such sincerity in these trying times.

She hums to herself as she works, the loose waves of hair framing her face that are too stubborn to be tied back flowing freely with her seemingly effortless movements. The song she hums is a familiar one to her, one that holds a place deep within her heart and always reminds her of the beautiful, dulcet tones of the voice who she first heard the captivating song from.

“Excuse us, miss. Another round of beer for the table, if you would.”

“Coming right up, sir!”

She never notices the spring in her step whenever she thinks of him, her mind too enraptured to fully grasp how much he has a hold on her - a hold that she would gladly stay in, whether circumstantially forced to or not.

She glides to the bar over to where her boss is idly cleaning the glassware. The man, Oliver, hardly spares a glance at her, but this is in no way cold or dismissive. He grabs a few glasses and tops them with tapped beer, the foam falling smoothly over the precipice of each of the glass’ rims. He places them on a tray and slides it to her, the exchange between boss and employee complete. She simply smiles and nods, taking the tray in one hand before turning around to head towards the required table. She sets the tray of golden beer down on the table.

“Here you are. I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“Thanks, dear.”

With a smile, she grabs the now unoccupied tray and moves to head back to the bar - she doesn’t make it very far.

“Oi, sweetheart. Come back here for a sec. I’ve got a question for ya.”

Despite the man’s gruff authoritative voice, she remains smiling as she turns back to face the man calling upon her, “Can I help you, sir?”

The man grunts, his expression as he assesses her the epitome of untrusting. “I’ve heard rumours ‘bout you ‘round here, love. People say you’re a nice young lass, always kind and helpful regardless of the folk passin’ through.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed by his remarks, she politely bows, “Thank you, sir. It’s very nice to know that-”

“Hold up, I ain’t finished yet.”

She uprights herself, meeting the man’s gaze swirling with seething contempt. “People say that, but that’s just because they don’t know what you really are.”

The calm merriment in the tavern is as good as dead, everyone’s attention focused on the conversation unfolding. Oliver keeps a steely eye on everyone, his movements tense as if ready to act if necessary.

The young woman’s gaze shifts to confusion. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’ve seen you hangin’ round the ports at night, thinkin’ you’re all alone so no one can see you emerge into yer true form, you sea witch.”

Her delicate eyebrows furrow at his words, “Sea witch? You compare me to something of myth?”

“It ain’t myth, sweetheart, so stop playing dumb! No sane girl would hang around the sea at night unless they wanted pirates to abduct them, sirens to suck the life outta them or….you were wantin’ to go home to the ocean you belong in.”

His voice grows colder as realisation dawns on him, the scraping of his wooden chair against the floorboards grating patrons’ ears as he stands, looming over her significantly smaller stature. He laughs mirthlessly, “That’s it, ain’t it? You’re just a fish outta water tryna go back. So why don’t you?! Go back home to the cold depths where you belong, you wretched sea hag!”

A lifeless metallic clink echoes in the still air. The man turns, any expression of anger he was ready to let out forced back by the sight of a barrel of a gun pointed directly at him.

“I think you’ve made your point. Now it’s time for me to make mine-” Oliver’s hand on the pistol is steady, his finger resting on the trigger, “-Get the hell out of my tavern. One more targeted remark from you at my staff and I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

The man’s hulking frame shakes in fear. He grabs a bag of coins from his pocket, carelessly tossing on the table before dashing out of the tavern. Everyone seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief, the atmosphere calming once again.

Oliver returns his pistol to its place under the counter and motions to his waitress to come to him. She swallows and walks slowly to the bar, the nerves built up in her throat from the tense accusations still yet to have dissipated. She meets Oliver’s eyes, their colour similar to the pistol he was just wielding, an involuntary shiver running through her.

“You alright?”

What is meant to be a “Yes” instead emerges from her lips as a strangled “Mm” noise, her throat still constricted. She nods to affirm her point and Oliver sighs.

“Is what he was saying true? Have you been going out to the harbour at night again?”

Her eyes break away from his own to stare at the freshly polished counter, her hands tightening in the fabric of her dress. Oliver keeps his gaze steady on her face, looking for the telling flicker in her eyes of her easily readable honesty. He says nothing, waiting uncharacteristically patiently for her to respond. After a minute, he turns back to polishing the glassware, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I’m your boss, not your guardian. But just be careful, okay?” She nods with an affirmative sound and Oliver sighs again, more from relief than exasperation, “Take the rest of the night off, go clear your head. Be back before the fog sets in. I’ll be waiting.”

She blinks, unsure if what she just heard were her boss’ words. A smile breaks across her face, the thought that she has someone who cares for her putting her mind at ease. She dashes back to her room on the second floor, undoing her apron all the while. Removing the ribbon from her hair with a simple tug, her natural waves succumb to gravity and flow down her back. After a quick check in the mirror, she’s dashing down the stairs and outside, her hair tickling her exposed shoulders.

The lanterns light the linear path to the harbour, her light steps still causing the aged floorboards to creak underneath her as she walks. She breathes in the cool, salty breeze that she adores, her chaotic thoughts like the crashing waves instantly soothed to nothing more than a gentle ripple. She reaches the end of the dock, admiring the few ships anchored down as she walks without a destination. Reaching the edge of the wooden walkway, she closes her eyes and begins to sing, her voice resonating out to the vast nothingness of the ocean. She smiles as she sings, feeling accomplished at how much she has improved since when she first learned the foreign lyrics. She knows that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she should be inside in her room, but she feels beckoned to the harbour, to the deep ocean before her so close yet still so far away.

(I want to see you.)

Through her closed eyelids, she doesn’t notice the fog slowly creeping in and swirling ominously around her legs, nor does she notice the almost silent footsteps over her singing. She lets out a breath of satisfaction and solace, reopening her eyes to those of ruby and amber, seeming to shine without light. She stiffens and jumps back, her foot slipping on the edge of the walkway.

“Ah-!”

She squeezes her eyes shut, yet she feels no chill from the seawater running through her spine, nor the wetness on her skin. She opens her eyes again to mismatched hues, the man’s arms around her waist and a few feet from where she almost fell.

“My, that was awfully close. Do be careful out at night. Who knows what would have happened if you fell into the ocean.”

“U-um, yes. Thank you.”

His arms release her and she takes a precautionary step backwards. He smiles, an odd combination of innocence and mystery that has her curious. Before she can even ask, he speaks.

“You should head back home before the fog sets in. Wouldn’t want Oliver to condemn your actions, now would we?”

“Wait...how do you--?”

He chuckles, thoroughly amused by her shock, “You need not know anything about me, except that I am better than most at knowing what goes on around here. I have nothing better to do, you see,” His grin somehow widens, taking on a more knowing, fiercer edge, “For example, I know you come out here most nights to sing to the sea. And that you’re not always alone.”

She stiffens, opening her mouth to retort but is quickly silenced by his hand, the force applied enough to keep her quiet but nothing to cause harm. “Don’t try to lie to me, my dear. I’ve seen him. Or, I guess it’s more accurate to say that I’ve seen them both.”

She gasps, his hand stifling the sound. He continues, “Seems that man calling you a sea witch wasn’t too outlandish. If you’re conversing with the creatures meant to suck the souls from humans and are still living, then maybe you have something special about you,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he watches the quickly growing distress in her eyes, “You can even sing the siren’s song and feel no bewitchment...although, I guess your pirate friend can’t say the same.”

(What? What is he saying? What does he mean? How does he know all of this?!)

Her thoughts spiral, no answers and only questions. She breaks free of his grasp, ready to run until-

“A shame you haven’t seen your pirate friend in a few weeks. And I was going to tell you when he was next coming back to town.”

She freezes almost subconsciously, her feet still while her brain screams at her to run. She should know better, she should be back at the tavern by now, unconcerned with the man before her. So why isn’t she moving?

The fog settles deeper around the docks, creeping slowly around them, its presence near suffocating and threatening to leave the lantern lights redundant. She looks over her shoulder, meeting the man’s gleaming gaze.

(I...want to see him too.)

“What do you know?”

The man grins wide, his trap in place. “He’s a pirate on a ship called The Heart Breaker. New recruit, yet he has his sea legs. They like this town for its neutrality and good trading posts. I happen to have intel that The Heart Breaker will be back in port on the next full moon.”

Eyes wide, she racks her brain for the next time that will be. “That’s in….four days.”

“It is indeed. Is that all you wanted to know?”

She nods, “Yes, thank you. I won’t ask how you know this, but you have my gratitude.”

He chuckles, herself unsure if it’s the presence of the fog making him appear more sinister. “ You didn’t actually think I would just tell you what you wanted without an exchange, did you?”

She swallows hard, chills running through her spine. “I--I have nothing of value. I swear, please.”

He steps towards her, the fog seemingly parting for him. Her feet feel as heavy as lead, unable to run as he drifts within arm’s reach of her.

“I’m not asking for much. And what I want is something only you can get me,” He leans in, whispering into her ear, “I need you to get me one of your siren friend’s scales.”

“What?”

She baulks, in disbelief of his request.

“I want a siren scale,” He reiterates, “The rumours of their opalescent scales holding a myriad of colours intrigues me. Get me one of your friend’s scales and I’ll consider your debt paid.”

“But, I--”

“Haven’t seen him? Maybe not, but I know he’s emerged from the surface for you and that he’s been close enough to you to touch.”

She falls silent, her eyes transfixed on his own. He grins, stepping back from her but never once letting his gaze waver.

“You’re a pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Maybe you can beguile the beguiler.”

The last thing she sees are his eyes, blood and gold, staring at her until the fog inhibits her vision. She rushes forward hoping to catch him, but as she emerges from the fog, he’s nowhere to be seen. She frowns, looking around near frantically for him. She sighs silently, resigning herself to simply walk back to the tavern, ready for Oliver to rip into her.

As she walks back with the last of the sun setting behind her, the man who she was searching for emerges from the fog, watching her return to town with a wry smile gracing his lips.

“With her voice, she enchants; with her beauty, she deprives of reason - voice and sight alike deal destruction and death.” He chuckles under his breath as the fog engulfs him, his eyes glinting with the small shred of lantern light penetrating the deep fog, “A siren uses its voice and a pirate uses its sword, but all bring destruction and death regardless.”