❝ when did you start looking at me like that? ❞ @ magik heheheh
PROMPT. this was supposed to be horny/frenemy code i think but. i apologise in advance. horny will be soon (threat) i kept thinking about our plotting dms instead
illyana was never one for following rules very well. even as a child, young & sweet, she had a tendency to test the limits. that was why her brother called her snowflake, aside from her clinging to his side: often she was found out in the snow, on the ice lakes, when she wasn’t supposed to be. she’d find reasons & ways & loopholes, nothing enough to get her in big trouble but enough to plant a small seed of rebellion. she thinks piotr & her parents might not have minded, after all these years. they certainly were gentle with punishment compared to stories she’d heard.
but there were few rules even her parents tried to echo, to drill into her: she must finish every meal. she must come home before midnight, lest the babai get her. she must not look at women lest the soldiers get her instead. & in the years she spent in limbo, these were the only three she could recall, until slowly it faded to just the one. even then, illyana found it hard to understand: what threat could loving a woman bring that these depths could not ?
so it was forgotten, too. for a long time. she had other priorities: living, killing, the whole nine yards. add some more time to that post-escape, maybe she’s let a few rules slip back into her life. maybe its because scott is the only one who can enforce them.
so she forgot about the homophobia of her homeland, until she was reminded. & this time when illyana looks away, it isn’t for herself, but for marceline.
not that she would ever blame her for this. illyana knows of churches, knows of gods, knows of evil. knows they are not as separate as humanity thinks. isn’t she proof of this, aren’t they both ? with marceline’s pale skin and illyana’s clawed hands. so she keeps her gaze beside the woman, most of the time. until she catches marceline staring too. they’ve known another for months now, maybe longer. magik was never good at keeping track of time, but she is good at keeping track of memories. she remembers their first encounter, scared thing with a blade at illyana’s throat, the thrill of the chase. but they weren’t really enemies, only by circumstance, and those has never stopped an opportunist before. ( there was something familiar in her, the way her blade steadfast despite her pinched lips, that made magik feel like she’d met her mirror. )
marcline is cold, beautiful, fleeting. like ice. & illyana is a snowflake.
( when did you start looking at me like that ? )
caught red-handed. too slow this time or, or maybe marceline is finally letting her. but illyana’s blue gaze softens, so slightly, pulling her form her reverie. she is staring. she can’t help it. marceline’s holy eyes remind her of the icy lakes where she nearly fell through / her unwavering guess just as much a threat. just as willing to drown her. how long had she looked at her like this? from day one? yes. it was that porcelain skin hiding rage beneath that called to her. but marceline looks scared, almost, worried. like illyana might’ve been had she not seen the worst of the worst and decided this was nothing.
this. what is this ? it could be love one day, maybe, she thinks. if she knows what that is. it is infatuation, if nothing else. comfort. every time she tries to leave the angel behind her, she comes crawling right back.
“ ... like this, ptitsa ? ” a sly smile, shining eyes. she wants to hear her say it. but marcline looks so nervous. affection and touch are foreign to magi, yet--hand reaches out, clasps glaved one. lifts it to press over the bruise on magik’s cheek. her lashes flutter, half-shut, and for the first timein years illyana eally does look at her, like that, soft yet burning, wanting, protective. a blaze promising to keep you warm, to scald your enemies. possessive and wanting. a waiting hound ready to serve.
“ perhaps longer than i have noticed. but you were scared. so i tried to stop. i couldn’t. ”





