#VERY disjointed and not terribly great but it's been a week since my birthday so the curse is long over! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caffeinated-yearning · 3 years

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Nice Things

Yeah baby I’m always late to my birthday, but I bring Dick Gets A Raise Because It’s My Birthday And I Can Ask For Nice Things For My Friends

Word Count: ~1800 Warnings: None

"You're allowed to have nice things, pal." "Sir?" Gumshoe smiled down at his companion. "You should let yourself have nice things! I saw the way you were looking at that bookstore window- why don't you go get yourself something nice?" "Uh. Not today." "You say that every time I tell you that you should enjoy yourself, pal. Why don't you just let yourself live a little?" "Just." It shrugged, a noncommittal gesture with its hands, and looked up at warm eyes overcast with confusion. Today was not a day that wanted gifts to itself. But, wait- "hey, what about you? You should live by your own advice, Mr. Gumshoe. Detective, sorry." "Eh... I don't exactly have the money to be spending on stuff that's not rent or dinner, you know?" Sheepish, his grin; it wasn't exactly news to hear about his low pay, but he still acted like it was embarrassing. Mark looked back at the ground then- or rather, at the thread between its fingers. "I'm sorry." "Sorry for what, pal?" "Sorry that they get away with paying you peanuts when you work as hard as you do. That you have to want for things because of it." "Hey-, hey, don't worry about it, pal. It's not like I don't deserve it-." "You don't deserve it." Bitter, voice that tasted like burnt coffee grounds and lemon rinds. Gumshoe looked at him with surprise. It looked back, and his eyes were full of that same bitterness. "I'm going to make sure you don't have to suffer that any more. Tonight, even, it's as good a night as any- better than most, perhaps. I'll do something about it tonight." "What- now hang on a minute, pal, you don't gotta do anything like that for me!" It was as though Detective Gumshoe was... worried? Concerned about the response. Was he worried that Miles would think Gumshoe had put Mark up to the task? Absurd! The other possibility was not one Mark wanted to imagine. "But why not?" The taste of his emotions was vile, the taste of this day had always been vile. It had to be dealt with, that awfulness- every year it demanded something to satiate its miserable temper. A dreadful day. "Why not? There is no justice in a man who needs to so carefully avoid spending for pleasure, so that he may eat and have a roof." "Well, yeah, but-!" "There is nothing fair about it. So I'll fix it, if I can. I think, today, I can." As unusual as it was, to see Mark stand tall, to wear an aura of self-assuredness and adamancy, there he was. Back straight, and his pace suddenly driving Gumshoe to trot if he wanted to keep up; but since they’d have to split, one to go to the precinct and one to the chief prosecutor’s office, Gumshoe didn’t have to run alongside him for long.

---

"Mr. Edgeworth, sir?" "Mann." He looked up, briefly, from the case files he was studying just then- and back, down into the depths of the files. Inscrutable, from Mark's position, and far too packed to be easily torn apart. "Yes? What do you want." "You don't happen to know the date, do you?" "Hmm. Why do you ask?" Mark swallowed. Confidence was a mask that he could wear; he would wear the mask of a man who was confident. "I just... I wanted to make a request." "And it's important that today is today?" "It's relevant, but only if you decide that my appeals to logic and ethics are not enough." "And you think that an appeal to something other than logic or ethics will sway me, if those should fail?" There was a smirking lilt to his tone- chilling, how easily he could root Mark to the ground. "... Very well then." He settled in his seat, closing the file altogether; hands folded under his chin, same smirking grin as he turned his attention to Mark. "State your case."

---

"... And so, whether you trust in my logic, or you strive toward justice, and from there the ethical resolution of all issues that may arise, I think you will appreciate that it is necessary to give Detective Gumshoe a more reasonable salary." Breathe, and pull himself from that state of fearful almost-combat- "I have made my case, and if you find it lacking, you may cross-examine me. But I know I'm right." "Is that so?" He hadn't moved much in the past... Had it really been over a half hour? Mark felt his skin crawling at the idea of taking up so much time- of *talking* for that long. "I know I'm right, and if you have questions, I can fight on each counterpoint you might have." *Please don't have counterpoints.* "I do have one question." Mark held its breath. The tone, the posture; as though Miles had some ace up his sleeve. Some secret knowledge of ethos or logos which would allow him to upturn the whole thing. *Impossible, impossible*. Not that impossible; Edgeworth could likely find logical loopholes in anything, if previous sparring was anything to go by. "Why was the date an important precursor to your argument? It would seem irrelevant." "Ah." That. Right. The date. "If it's irrelevant, then why are you asking?" "It was a curious thing to bring up, so I want to know how it would sway me one way or another." Piss. "Erm. It's just my birthday. I. It was a dumb thing to bring up. Ignore it. Put it out of mind. It is, indeed, quite irrelevant." "Oh." Mark felt the anxious chill in fingers and toes; the fear response drawing his blood away. So much for the fire that had possessed him before. "Please give him a raise." "That's your request for your birthday?" *Oh don't sound so surprised.* "Yes. I'm doing just fine as I am; I've got any number of cheap hobbies and recipes to fall back on. If you need to cut someone else's pay to feel better about Gumshoe getting a well-deserved raise, I volunteer myself as sacrifice." "Don't- no. Don't say something as absurd as that. That is not necessary in the slightest." "Well either way. Dick- Detective Gumshoe deserves to eat more than instant ramen."

Miles watched the other carefully. He was not a creature that often let himself experience emotions- neither of them was, but Mark was always just a little closer to his emotions than he would have liked to believe. Miles was well aware of that- he'd seen it a few times before, the way he stood, stubborn and hard-headed, to defend anyone that he decided needed the defense. What was most impressive was how little awareness Mark had about his own expressions- he had described himself as 'poorly emoting' before, which was not a trait Miles believed accurate. Right now though, he'd gone from a state of loud and justified passion to... something almost embarrassed, in the span of five seconds. Understandably so- given his last-ditch effort was genuinely meant to be a *birthday request*. "Was that all?" "Er. Yes. Have you made your decision?" "I have, yes." "May I... May I hear it?" "In due time." "Tonight?" "In due time." Mark nodded, obscuring his expression with downturned face and hair that always seemed to get in his face. "Shall I leave, then?" His voice was so much softer than Miles had realized it would be, and there was almost guilt- almost, but then, Miles was better at keeping his emotions in check. It was with a neutral tone and neutral expression, then, that he dismissed Mark; "you may leave, yes." He held himself impassive as he watched Mark turn, walk towards the door- "and, Mr. Mann?" Entirely silent, Mark turned a fraction of the way back; listening, but not speaking. "I hope you have enjoyed your birthday so far." Nod, either a thank you, or a yes, sir; Miles sighed as the door closed behind Mark. Perhaps he ought to have expected that Mark would be taken by his silence after his being so unforthcoming with the fate of the detective; a worrywart was he. Still, he bit his tongue, and stayed in his office; it wouldn't be much of a surprise if he gave the answer right away. That... That was something people liked, was it not? Birthday surprises?

Well. That was not a particularly hopeful thing to end on. Hand on throat and breathing as slow as he could, Mark pulled himself to calmness, a thing he had practiced before and would practice until the end of his days. There was no promise, there was no promise, but was it harmful to hope? No. And whether the arrow struck the mark wouldn't matter, really. If Edgeworth did not relent, then Dick- then Detective Gumshoe would probably hardly remember the conversation from that morning. If Edgeworth did relent, then perhaps luck did follow it still. Perhaps. Mark was a very lucky person, but good and bad luck are both still luck. It wasn't something to worry about. It wasn't something that it needed to focus on. And it could drag itself from the swirling thoughts if it needed to. So it would drag itself out of its own mind, nails clinging to stone and scraping against dirt, it would pull itself out of its mind. Fixing the bowtie it wore, it headed downstairs; emptiness was calm, and it had emptied itself so that it could get back to its job.

---

"Mark!" Oh, a familiar voice- a familiar clap of a hand on its shoulder. "Detective Gumshoe, what's up?" "I don't know what you did, or how, but thanks so much pal!" His eyes shone, bright- wet? "Did... what?" "Wasn't it you?" He looked confused, then; warm eyes that so often ended up clouded with confusion over Mark's own forgetfulness, or else its strange behaviors besides. "I mean I guess Edgeworth really didn't mention you by name, but I just assumed, since you said..." "Oh. OH. Oh, that." Based on the tone this is a good thing, based on previous encounters it's... "So it *was* you!" "I guess so. Did he..?" "Yeah, I don't know how you did it, but he seems to have listened to you, whatever you said to him." His face was always so open, so ready to admit of his joy or pain; and now it was luminous, it was sunlight. Contagious in the best of ways. "Thank you, thank you so much pal!" "Holy fuck he gave you a raise?" "He sure did!" And both were bouncing- enthusiasm excitement joy joy joy! "Oh my god I can't believe it- I was so afraid he wasn't gonna listen to me at all- Detective, holy shit this is fantastic!"

In a room adjacent, Miles' expression softened. "Surprise," he said into empty space. “Good to know that birthday surprises are still enjoyable, after all.”

#[[ Reason and Rationale | Miles Edgeworth ]]#[[ What a Pal! | Det. Gumshoe ]]#caffeinated writing #VERY disjointed and not terribly great but it's been a week since my birthday so the curse is long over!#as you can see I don't understand romance at all but neither does miles and that's ok we are dumb and not-quite dating yet #finishes this so I can close the tab I was writing it in: hell yeah closing tabs

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

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Finding You (Part Two of ??)

Hello again! I'm back with the second installment of my new series, Finding You, which was previously Untitled. If you want to be tagged when I update this series, just comment below :)

Part One Link

In this part, we finally get to Satan and what he's been doing during all this. It's not really a happy chapter. You have been warned.

I think it's important to note that I am American. In this part, there is a funeral. Since I don't know much about other cultures or religions way of holding funerals, I just wrote what I know (and that's very little actually. I've only been to two full funerals. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have). Feel free to change the story up in your head to match your own funerary customs.

As always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated and help me endure the torture that is typing up this story from my notebook 😒 I also tried to make sure the editing on here was good. Any DM's for typos or things that didn't make sense are appreciated so I can fix them (please be kind though 🙂 ). I did write some of the funeral disjointed on purpose, trying to recreate how I was feeling when I attended the funerals I did.

Tags (for you lovely people <3 ): @obey-me-trashshshshsh, @naimena

F! MC/ Satan

Word count: 3,195

Warnings/triggers: ANGST!, description of funeral, loosing someone dear to you, some violence at the end though nothing too graphic (he is the avatar of wrath after all)

Satan had felt when Mc died. His pact mark had begun to glow and heat up. A terrible rending feeling in his chest, then… Nothing. He couldn’t move, fear completely paralyzing him. No, it couldn’t be…

Then he heard Mammon scream. Then Asmo. Then Levi. Soon, the whole House of Lamentation was filled with wailing. Satan scrambled for his D.D.D, hurriedly dialing Mc. No, no, no, no, no. He had just talked to her. She’d been fine.

“Hi! This is Mc. I can’t get to the phone-”

“No… No, no, no, NO!” Satan screamed, throwing his phone at the wall. Satan sunk to his knees in a sobbing heap.

The brothers never got an answer to what exactly had happened to Mc. Diavolo had confirmed she had passed, but he couldn’t get any details since she hadn’t been sent to the Devildom. He had managed to find out when and where the funeral would be, if they wanted to go. They would only be able to attend the graveside service though, since the viewing was being held in a church.

Each brother attended the graveside service. Satan stood stoically as the casket was brought out of the hearse. He was wondering if he would be able to get Asmo to charm everyone in attendance so he’d be able to see her face one last time, when he felt his brothers all shifting around uncomfortably. He realized the religious figure he’d tuned out was quoting scripture at the congregation, promises that Mc was now in the hands of God. He decided to tune him out again. Then the casket was being lowered. He had to be physically restrained from going out and pulling her out as the first fistfuls of dirt were being thrown on the casket. How could they do that to her? A voice murmured a reminder that she was gone, and they were just saying goodbye. Well, he needed to say goodbye too. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

Next thing Satan knew, he was at the corner of the grave, a flower he’d had a death grip on since they had started out from the Devildom in his hand. Her favorite. A shiny wood box met his eyes from 6 feet below. Was she really there? He couldn’t feel her presence from his pact mark. Where was she? When was he going to wake up?

The other demon lords watched their brother loose the fight with his emotions. He sobbed, falling on his haunches. Six hands found a part of Satan to touch, tears in their eyes as well.

“It’s time ta let ‘er go,” Mammon’s stuffy voice came from next to him. Satan looked over to find Mammon had removed his sunglasses. His eyes and face were wet.

“I… I don’t think I can,” Satan stated, tears falling freely.

“I know. I know,” Mammon said, pulling his brother in for a hug. Each of the rest of the brothers joined in the hug, pulling the fourth and second born up with them. After a bit, they all let go, moving forward to give Mc their own token and say their last words. When Belphie had finished, Lucifer put his hand on Satan’s shoulder.

“Mc’s waiting for her flower,” Lucifer said, gesturing towards the grave. Satan nodded, and walked forward. He fiddled with the stem for a second, trying to find the words to say, “Mc… Huh, I don’t actually know what to say… I guess, I… I thought I’d find some way to be with you forever. I never thought… I’ve never felt anything like you before Mc, and I don’t think I ever will again… Please… Please, if it’s possible, come back to me. Please,” he uttered as he dropped the flower onto the casket, and walked back to his brothers. He knew everyone was looking at him, confused and curious through their sorrow. They all stayed until the end of the funeral, when Satan turned to Lucifer, “I think it might be time to go.”

“If you’re sure, that would probably be the smartest course of action,” Lucifer nodded, the humans looking questioningly at the demons. The religious man from earlier was actually making his way towards them.

“I’ll visit her later when there aren’t so many people around,” Satan stated as he started walking. The brothers exchanged looks before following him.

The next couple months were quiet at the House of Lamentation. The brothers did the bare minimum required to keep the household going. They were all absent from RAD and Lucifer even took some time off from the endless amount of paperwork he usually did, to grieve. Mc may have been dating Satan, but the rest of the brothers loved her too, and missed her greatly. The only time the brother’s saw Satan was when he was raiding the fridge, finally giving into his stomach pleading for food. He still managed to look somewhat put together, though his eyes were dead and haunted. He had retreated so far into his mind if one of them managed to get him to acknowledge their presence they counted it as a win. He was a shell of himself, and everyone was worried.

Time marches on though, and life slowly returned to normal. One day, Lucifer had gone to RAD and come home with some random paperwork that needed to be done. Another, Asmo was going out to update his wardrobe because his was terribly behind the trends. Each brother found their own way of coping. Beel eventually asked if they could all have family dinner again. They all actually made an appearance, though Satan left once he was done eating.

Though he wasn’t doing well, Satan had been visiting Mc’s grave at least once a week if not more. Lucifer had granted him access to the portal indefinitely, a gesture of kindness that did not go unnoticed. At first he just cried quietly at her grave, not able to produce a coherent sentence. It slowly evolved into him reading her her favorite books or some snatch of poetry that reminded him of her. Eventually he was able to talk freely as he once had. Sometimes it was a mixture of the three. His brothers never saw him cry though. Since Mc had been the only one that seemed to truly understand his feelings, she was the only one allowed to see him cry. Through this self therapy, Satan started to heal. He started sitting in the common room with his brothers in the evening, or snorting at some joke that had been thrown around the table at dinner.

As the years passed, Satan would still visit Mc’s grave, though the frequency dropped. He slowly learned to deal with his sorrow, just like he had with love when he’d first fallen for Mc. It was much harder, his wrath often informing his depression. She became his support again, even if she wasn’t able to respond to help him through his feelings. He always visited on her birthday, bringing her a bouquet of flowers and some small piece of literature, art or playing her some music.

One year, while reading her some Shakespeare, someone came up behind him, “She appreciates it. I know she does.”

Satan stopped reading instantly, whipping around to see a woman who looked quite a lot like Mc, “Excuse me?”

“Coming to see her every year. You have great taste in art by the way,” the woman said, sitting down besides Satan, looking fondly but sadly at the headstone.

“Um, thank you. May I ask who you are?”

“Only if I can ask you the same thing,” the woman responded, smiling at him wryly. The look was so similar to one Mc would give him, he found himself instantly trusting this woman, “I’m S… Stan,” he answered, giving the nickname Mc come up with, when he had asked if he’d ever be able to meet her family. She’d laughed when she'd thought of it, saying she could never introduce him as Satan.

“Stan? I was wondering. She met you when she took that trip out of the country right?”

“Yeah… Did she tell you about me?”

“Oh, you want me to remember that far back? Hmm… I seem to remember her talking about how smart you are, “She chuckled, her eyes far away, “I remember one time, I went in to talk to her and she was furiously reading some book. When I asked what she was reading she told me she couldn’t talk to me right then, needing to catch up to where you were in the story. It was a silly little moment, but she looked so determined… I do know she was in love with you. Though she only really told me about you shortly before she died, I remember the look in her eyes when she talked about you. Telling me about how drawn she was the moment she laid eyes on you. You know what a romantic she was. As her Mother, you can guess how excited I was to meet you, especially after watching her get her heart broken before... You’re exactly her type, you know. Tall, blonde, smart. She was even thinking of introducing you to us. Then it happened.”

Satan didn’t realize the tears were flowing until she looked over and wiped a tear away. She continued, “I was disappointed when I didn’t see anyone that matched your description during the viewing. I don't know what kept you, but I am glad you made it for the casket lowering. I was surprised to see your brothers though, if that's who they were. You all look so different… Anyways, I’m sure she would've loved the intrigue you brought to her service. A handsome stranger, distraught at the thought of life without her. She always did love big, dramatic displays of affection.”

“You remember me from the funeral?”

“Who could forget? It became a topic of conversation in our family once we could all talk about her without crying. Who was that blonde guy? Why wasn’t he at the viewing? Who were the other men he was with? Did she secretly get married while she was out of the country? So many theories, each one more ludicrous then the last. It seems her best friend and I were the only ones to connect the dots as to your identity.”

“Ah. I’m a little embarrassed now,” Satan admitted sheepishly.

“Don’t be. I was extremely bitter after the funeral for a long time. How could my beautiful daughter be taken away from me? Parents were never meant to outlive their kids. I’ve never understood the reason people take photographs at funerals. Most of the time, there’s so much makeup caked onto the body they’re almost unrecognizable. There’s a photo of you from the funeral I actually saved though. You’re looking at the casket with such a look of longing and loss, just waiting for her to come back to you. That photo actually brought me a lot of peace after she was gone. Your look perfectly encapsulated how I felt at the time. It also helped me to know she was able to know that much love before she left. I never want you to feel embarrassed for showing that kind of love to my daughter.”

" She is and always will be the only one for me.”

Mc’s mother laughed, “Oh, you’re still young and quite handsome. You’ll find someone else. In fact, you don’t look like you’ve aged a day from the first time I saw you. You must’ve made some kind of deal with the devil,” she joked.

“Ah. Very funny. Yes. A deal with the devil. Haha.”

Mc's mother looked at him, slightly concerned, "Well, it seems I've made things awkward. I’ll leave you two alone now.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to leave on my behalf,” Satan protested.

“It’s alright. I live close by, and I come and visit fairly often. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Good night, Stan”

“Good night, and… thank you.”

Mc’s mother smiled at him and walked away.

“Well, Mc, I guess I have your mother’s approval now,” Satan joked, turning back to his Shakespeare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remind me why we’re here again,” Satan said, only slightly interested in the antics Mammon was trying to drag him into.

“Tryin’ to get some sucker… er, customer ta part with their Grimm, obviously,” Mammon explained, leaning back in his chair and turning to face Satan and Belphie.

“What does that have to do with us?” Belphie mumbled, eyes more closed than open.

“Well, everythin’! You two are super smart, so I need ya ta…” As Mammon continued talking, Satan wondered, not for the first time, if Mammon actually ever intended to make money with his schemes, or if he had simply found a way to work through his sin without causing too many problems. He had to understand how likely his plans were to fail… Right?

A bump on his shoulder announced Belphie had fallen asleep. Since Mc had helped him work through some of the trauma he had held onto since Lilith’s death, Belphie had gotten comfortable with his brothers again, growing especially close with Satan, their mutual dislike of Lucifer giving them something to bond over. When Mc had died, Satan had found Belphie to be the most supportive of his brothers. Though they'll lost had lost Lilith, Satan had found Belphie the most sympathetic to what he was going through.

“Oi! Listen when I’m talkin’ ta ya! Ya both younger than me, so you shouldn't really show me more respect.”

Belphie lifted his head, and rolled his eyes, “Mammon, do you really want me to do you a favor? How about this? Maybe, don’t explain how you’re going to con people in front of those you want to con.”

Mammon looked around worriedly, finally noticing the glares he was getting, before rounding on Belphie, “I was just explainin’ the plan ta ya and Satan cuz ya both asked again! If ya didn’ wan’ an explanation, ya shouldn’ have asked!”

Belphie was about to retort, when he got a self satisfying smirk, “Oh, dearest big brother, looks like you’ve got your first customer.”

Mammon went pale, turning around slowly to find a demon about as tall as Lucifer staring Mammon down, obviously angry.

Very interested in how Mammon was going to worm his way out of this one, Satan turned to say something to Belphie when he caught sight of a familiar hat.

“Belphie, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn’t that Luke?”

“Hmm? You mean the chihuahua?... Oh, I think it is. Why do you suppose he’s here? I never heard we were getting any visitor."

"It's a little terrifying just how much you know. You're like Asmo that way."

"It's not my fault everyone just assumes I'm sleeping while they're talking."

"Belphie, you know enough, I think you store information while you're asleep."

"Huh… I'd never thought of that before… Who’s that other angel with him?”

“I don’t know… She kinda looks familiar though, don’t you think?”

Belphie looked over at him, arching an eyebrow, “Do you know any angels younger than Luke?”

“Well, no, but… She just looks so familiar.”

“I guess… Hey, you’re missing Mammon squirm.”

“You watch and enjoy. I’m going to go talk to them,” Satan said, clearly distracted, as he got up out of his seat.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a large body planted itself in front of Satan. The demon was tall, but so was Satan. He was able to look him right in the eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re with the guy that was going to scam us right?”

“You were actually going to fall for his scheme? Really? Well, the first step to getting the help you need is admitting you have a problem. Now, move. I’ve got places to be.”

“Not so fast Princess. You’re not getting away that easy,” the demon put out his hand and grabbed Satan’s shirt.

Satan looked down at the offending hand, and then at the demon, his horns already starting to sprout, “I’d suggest you unhand me if you want to keep your kneecaps.”

The demon laughed, a cocky smile on his face, “Ya think just cuz you’re an elite ya can take me? What makes you so special huh? Ya just think ya so great, just because ya pretty. Am I right?”

The rest of Satan’s demon form appeared, his eyes glowing, a menacing aura surrounding him, “No. I know I can take you because I’m the Avatar of Wrath. Maybe, if you weren’t such a dunce you’d have noticed that,” and with that Satan grabbed his hand in a bone crushing grip. The demon started yowling, trying to twist out of his grasp. It only made Satan increase the pressure. He leaned in right next to the demon’s ear, “Next time you pick a fight, understand who you’re dealing with first.”

He swept the demon’s legs out from under him, and put him in a wrist lock submission hold. The demon was now yelling for mercy, desperately trying to break Satan’s hold. Satan looked around to see if he could still see Luke, but realized quickly that wasn’t going to be possible. Both of his brother’s were currently dismantling whatever demon had decided to pick a fight with them. The rest of the area had erupted into chaos, most demon’s running away. No one wanted to be around when one of the Avatar’s were fighting, much less three! A couple idiots were trying to get in on their fight though.

Sighing, Satan leaned down again, “Well, well, well. Looks like you’re losing your kneecaps today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan muttered to himself, picking up bits of trash that had been left by the fleeing demons. Because of his involvement in the fight, he had to clean up the entire park. Trying to explain to Lucifer he'd been trying to walk away apparently didn't help when you'd put five demons in the hospital before he'd shown up to stop you.

“Well, Lucifer, if you could’ve just kept your cool, you’d still be prancing around with Simeon and Michael up in the Celestial Realm, making friendship bracelets, painting each other little rocks and braiding each other’s hair as you giggle about how… Huh?” Satan crouched down, noticing a small foot peeking out from a pile of leaves. Moving around to the other side of the pile, he saw it was the small angel that had been with Luke.

Up close, the feeling he'd met her before was even stronger. She looked so familiar, but he knew he’d never seen her before. The youngest angel he’d ever met was Luke. Maybe she was from the foggy memories of Lucifer’s he still had? That was forever ago though. She should've grown up quite a bit by now...

His musings were interrupted as the small angel moving. She winced as she sat up, holding her head, “Wha… What happened? Luke? Where are you?, then noticing Satan, “Oh, hello there. I’m sorry, but could you help me find my big brother?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Three Link

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