#Nova whispers

[whispertrolls-archive]

“/|\...Huh./|\”

“/|\Omnius hasn’t been around for a few nights./|\”

“/|\.../|\”

“/|\That can’t be good./|\”

[scott-howls]

a gay server for the gayest game of all time

hi! are you a warframe player thats lgbt+, interested in finding a chill and welcoming community, and enjoy fawning over robots? i have the server for you! LGBTFRAME is an established discord community with over 25+ members! We have an established clan (now with crossplay), and have a channel for trading, in-game help and questions, recruting, and more!

we try to foster a community that's supportive and inclusive, and we do this in a multitude of ways; consistent and vigilant moderation, the use of Pluralkit bot for those who need it, and a variety of channels to discuss real-world issues and problems (which is moderated EVEN more heavily), we try to make sure everyone who wants to feel welcome does feel that way!

A couple of things to keep in mind:

Our server is 18+ ONLY. Please, do not lie about this to get in the server; while we do maintain only a channel to discuss NSFW topics, the actual nature of the server is not NSFW. (Warframe is technically only for people 17 and up anyway, so please don't waste my time asking for an invite if ur not over 18.)

Goes without saying: nazis, terfs, zionists, and bigots of all backgrounds need not apply! You would probably not like the server much anyway; it's mostly gay commies lol

Please message me either with an ask or an actual message (which is preferable) if you're interested in joining after reading those qualifications. Don't hesitate to reach out with other questions!

[chippedtoons]

shoutout to raine whispers for being SO non-binary that they dont even fit the binary of the "inhuman non-binary" character trope. is raine a human being? no! but they're the closest species to humans on the boiling isles.

[whimsicalcotton]

messy au thoughts feat. song lyrics

[r3tr0-s]

Tagging System.

#RS-logs [original post]

#What. [asks]

#Andyouare? [anon]

#Reporting [character reblogs]

#Stranger[non-character reblogs]

#Confidential [whisper]

___________________________________________

Others:

#Algeiba [Donnie]

#Corvus [Darner]

#Alkaid [Leo]

#Antares [Raph]

#Betelgeuse [Mikey]

#Bellatrix [April]

#Altas [Cass]

#Alcyone [Casey Jr]

#Altair [Shelldon]

#Saiph [E-Nova]

#Sirius [Yarrow]

[bysuzy]

concrete jungle ...

[stardust-arcade]

So I'm assuming Eclipse is going to have some major classes so this doesn't happen again?

Yes. Events like this are dangerous to happen. If Black Star and Sun didn't have me around to guide the others, I would guess they would be stuck in there for a very very long time.

That sounds like a straight up nightmare.

I go with Jack? Why?

Well we're going to learn how to tell your kitty cat to be nicer~.

But kitties do what they want?

I think we need this kitty to not do what he wants.

Agreed. You're kitty needs to... Stop scratching people.

He's scratching people? No, no kitty!

Yep, and Jack here is going to help you teach him not to scratch.

But he's not?-

Trust me, just word it like that. It works better for them in this mood.

We're all going to get the rundown on magic is though right?

Weelllll. That depends on you.

[supernovasilence]

why does this look like a romance novel

Whisper You Home to Me on ao3

Whisper You Home to Me on ffn

(1600 words of Edmund missing Caspian and also having an identity crisis. Don’t worry, though; it ends happily)

[joanofarc]

secret whispers, swamp children (1982).

standing on a corner watching all the girls go by when you pass on by me, i feel like i'm going to die

[whispertrolls-archive]

You freeze up, suddenly feeling yourself seized by a crippling sense of dread. It seems to well and expand within you, and you have nowhere to go. Instead, you can only lower yourself within your cell, slowly retreating to the back of it as you try to keep your breathing quiet and fail in forcing it to slow.

Something is wrong. You don’t know what, all you know is that things feel far from all right. You try to call, but your voice barely manages to breach the confines of a whisper.

“/|\S-Stygia?? Mori?? Any...one...?/|\”

You lower yourself again, further than you thought possible as you huddle in the corner like a frightened beast. A terrible cold feels as if it rules you, causing you to shiver in the little heap that you’ve reduced yourself to as your eyes, wide and wild with fear, dart back and forth, looking for something that you’re not even sure you see.

Was there ever anything even there?

[fool-of-a-triceratops]

I will be honest Country Roads being in Whisper of the Heart was kind of a slap in the face (this is my first time watching it)

[hotpinkstars]

LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader

- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.

- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....

- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912

When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.

“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.

“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”

You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 

“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.

“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 

You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 

You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 

You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”

He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.

Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 

But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,

“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”

You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 

“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.

“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”

You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 

“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 

But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.

[supernovasilence]

“I hope you find your way back to me,” Caspian whispers, and it’s the last thing Edmund hears him say before they’re swept apart in the press of Trumpkin and Trufflehunter and Reepicheep and Cornelius and Aslan and Edmund’s siblings and all the goodbyes to be said. Edmund has no chance to say anything back, so he can only say it with his eyes in one long, last backward look before he turns and walks through the door in the air, and hope Caspian understands.

full version of the memory from the cover edit I made for Whisper You Home To Me; please ignore that you can totally still see Susan’s hair

bonus 30 second edit because I couldn’t just leave our boys sad like that

[xoluvx]

billie bossa nova; b.eilish

You better lock your phone And look at me when you're alone 

smut

“Hey,” the voice was soft as you entered the hotel room. She’d heard you coming, heard the key card slide into the slot, heard you jiggling the door knob. She waited patiently, legs crossed, head resting on her propped arm.

“Hi,” you hummed contently watching her. She was wearing boxer shorts, black tank top and when she opened her legs, even in the soft hotel light you could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“You got my text,” she replied sliding her hands up her thighs until they were resting on her belly. You nodded remembering the voice note. When you’d opened it earlier, the sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine. It was quiet like she was whispering a secret. You memorized the address of the hotel looking it up on your phone, setting an alarm for the time she’d instructed you to meet there.

You understood why it had to be like this. Why you had to sneak around in expensive hotels and use pseudonyms. Why you couldn't be seen together in public, let alone touch outside confined spaces. None of that really mattered when you were with her.

“Come here,” she motioned for you to come over as she tapped her lap.

You removed the hat you were wearing, your coat and basically everything apart from your underwear. Billie watched with a glint in her eye, her stare wandering down your body as you discarded articles of clothing, a cheeky smile on your face.

When you were down to the last two items of clothing, you walked to her. You straddled her body. Her hands went to your thighs, nails digging into your skin until they were cupping your ass. You heard a small growl form and you smiled with satisfaction burying your hands in her hair.

She looked up at you and you devoured her mouth with rush. Billie hummed as your lips collided desperately. She pulled you closer as you played with her hair. A fight for dominance ensuing.

A few seconds later, your hips were swaying, tongue entering her mouth. You tugged on the hairs at base of her head pulling her back so your tongues were the only things touching. You ran your tongue along her mouth before locking lips again, your hips never faltering.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” Billie managed to say. The statement made your pussy pulse and your nipples hard. You weren’t going to protest.

“Fuck me,” you mumbled against her lips.

Billie held your thighs, standing from the chair with your legs wrapped around her body. She walked the few feet to the bed letting your body plop on the mattress. You smiled with exhilaration. Billie smirked. Lips red from kissing.

“Check under the pillows,” she whispered seductively, hands on her hips. Your eyes filled with mischief. She always had something up her sleeve and she always made your rendezvous memorable.

You turned your body giving her the perfect view of your ass. Billie bit her lip watching your hands slither under the pillows. The first thing you felt was a strap. You wondered which one it was this time. Your second hand felt a big bulky thing. Confusion registered on your face as you turned back to look at her. Her mouth fell open at the suggestive pose. Your body filled with ease as her hand palmed your ass before traveling up the side of your body. You pulled the two things out from under the pillows.

“Let’s make a movie,” she whispered in your ear. Her hand traveled under your body and over your pussy making you whimper in pleasure. The thought of filming your filthy acts of unholiness burned in all the right places.

“Yes,” your voice was high pitched as you agreed. Her fingers pressing on your pussy.

Then you turned to look at the dildo. The biggest she owned. Fuck. She really was going to fuck you hard tonight.

Your consent was music to Billie's ears. She got off to retrieve the camera fumbling with the buttons. It was an ancient thing. You flipped your body laying on your back waiting for her to give you attention. She trailed down your body watching you through the viewfinder. She watched the way you raised your chest in anticipation, holding your hands under the pillows, lips pouting.

Biting her lip, she imagined all the things she was going to do to you. She propped the camera on the night stand, climbing on your body holding your upper arm. She sat on you, watching your breasts bulge from your bra. Your eyes begging for more than just a touch to the arms.

Bringing her body down, she kissed you slowly. Lips sticking together when she came up for air. She kissed your jaw, down your neck, until she reached the open canvas of your chest. Her lips left burn marks on the spots she planted gentle kisses on. What happened to fucking you hard?

You pushed your hips up as a signal to get a moving, but Billie's lips were still on your chest. She brought her hands down to your torso, thumbs digging into your ribs. Her silent warning to stop. A whimper left your lips in defeat. She was taking her time.

She cupped your breasts pushing them closer. They swelled and she ran her tongue between your cleavage. Then her teeth were grazing your skin and she was biting down on your breast and her lips were sucking the area and she repeated that over and over until an unnatural colored splotch coated your skin.

Billie looked at it with satisfaction. Her fingers pulling roughly on the fabric of your bra revealing your needy nipples. You panted when the cold air struck your skin creating a layer of goosebumps, nipples hard to the touch. Billie groaned when her thumb ran over your nipple, pleased with the reaction.

She remembered the photos you'd sent her earlier that week. She loved your body. She loved the way your tits sat so perfectly, droplets of water coating your supple skin, fresh out of the shower. But she loved this more. Nothing compared to the real thing. To kneading your breast as she buried her face in them. Or how your nipples were always hard and felt so perfect between her thumb and index finger.

You whimpered as she pinched your sensitive bud. She tested the limit of how much you could handle before repeating the action on the other nipple. You grabbed her head not being able to hold back any longer. Pulling her down to your chest, she happily took your nipple in her mouth. Her tongue rotating on your skin, cheeks hollowing as she sucked and released with a pop.

Then she was sitting up again reaching for the camera.

"Take it off," she instructed tugging at your bra with one hand, the other holding the camera. You reached around fumbling with the hooks until it was off. You chucked it somewhere by the chair and Billie focused the camera on your breasts before traveling to your face. She whispered something and you smiled opening your mouth.

"Tongue out," she whispered this time and you revealed your tongue. She placed her index finger on your tongue and you closed your mouth sucking on the digit. You stared at the camera lens as she stared at the viewfinder watching you suck on her finger. Then she gave you another instruction and you opened again, this time her index and middle finger entered your mouth. She pushed down invoking a throaty moan from your part. Your lids fluttered and she groaned at your guttural response.

Keeping the camera on your face, she removed her fingers from your mouth and slipped them between your thighs, pushing your underwear to the side and her wet fingers between your folds. She entered you in a swift motion and you moaned shutting your eyes. Your mouth fell open for the entirety of the time, desperate pants filled the room as she moved her fingers in a steady rhythm.

"Are you ready?" Billie asked removing her fingers from your pussy reaching for the strap. You watched as she held it, nodding desperately. You took the camera weakly turning it to face her. She pulled her shirt over her head before pulling down her boxers. You watched through the viewfinder like she had before and watched her kneel on the bed as she put the strap on. You focused on the way her dragon tattoo peeked through the straps and how her toned torso flexed when she pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

Oh fuck, she meant business.

You panned the camera to her face and she bite her lower lip before tugging at your underwear. Sliding them down your thighs, she peppered kisses on your skin until she was sliding back up to your face. When she finally kissed your lips you moaned forgetting about the camera. It tumbled out of your limp arm as she moaned into your mouth kissing you with ferver. Billie reached for the camera taking it in her palm. She whispered something again and you eagerly obliged.

You were on your hands and knees, ass up how she liked it.

Turning your head to the side, you waited for her to touch you, to do something. The anticipation killing you as she filmed down your back, focusing on your ass in the air. Her hand came down on your ass and she watched the way it bounced. She repeated the motion again and you cried out reaching out for her body.

The top half of your body was now fully flat on the bed, your knees digging into the mattress. Billie held the camera in one hand, the other tugging at your ass. She saw the way your pussy clench with neediness and nearly drooled at the sight. With little warning, she pushed the dildo between your folds. Your pussy clenching instinctively making it harder for her to enter.

Billie soothed your skin, rubbing circles on your ass before bottoming out.

"Oh my god," your voice was high pitched, hands fisting the sheets. Mouth falling open. She slid out almost completely before repeating the motion and you cried out again.

The camera was angled so you could later see the way her fake cock slammed into you and so you could hear the way your cries mimicked the movements.

She started moving at a steady pace, your ass bouncing each time she thrusted. Her hand gripping your skin pulling you hard against her, soft grunts leaving her body. Loud moans leaving yours.

Her body fell down flushed against you, hips still rutting and you felt the dildo deeper than before. She held the camera in front of your face. Her fingers wrapped around your neck stifling your cries. She'd turned the viewfinder so she could see your face through the small screen as she fucked you from behind. You looked so pretty with your mouth open, eyes shut, sweat coating your forehead. Pleading.

She kissed your shoulder before raising her body again. Her thrusts never faltered, she continued slamming her body against yours. She angled the camera watching as your ass bounced, pussy sucking the cock. She loved the way you opened for her and screamed each time she hit your cervix.

Then she angled the camera above your bodies. It was a cheeky angle. She stuck her tongue out as she fucked harder. Biting her lip before slapping your ass. Your face was buried in the sheets, arms above your head holding on to the pillows. Loud breathing audible.

You just knew she was going to make you watch this and smirk victoriously the entire time.

When you reached back to try to touch her body, she slowed down. You were whimpering, your legs were shaking, and your hand was holding out for her torso. She slipped out carefully dropping the camera and coming down to check on you. You held her arm as she rested her chin on your shoulder, hands caressing your thighs gently.

"Are you okay?" she whispered and you nodded choking a cry.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay," you whispered back turning your face to hers. She kissed your cheek. Ensuring you were okay, she tapped your ass getting up.

"Turn," she instructed kissing your cheek and you nodded weakly flipping on your back. Billie came down to kiss you. The kiss was tender and slow. She cupped your face as your lips connected, her breast pressed on yours, the dildo slightly rubbing on your pussy. You missed how full you’d felt a few seconds ago.

Billie searched for the camera, lips still molding with yours. When she found it, she peeled her lips off yours, adjusting the camera on the night stand again. Then she adjusted herself between your legs watching you the entire time. Your fingers flexed on her belly, as she held your thighs entering you slowly.

You felt a pleasurable sting, your body remembering how good she felt inside you. She filled you at a painfully slow rate until she was connected to your open thighs. She moved her hips a few times thrusting into you as she held your thighs, your hand still on her lower belly. You whimpered wanting more.

Ever so happy to oblige, Billie raised your legs so your feet were above her shoulders. She lowered her body listening to how you cried out with this new angle cursing her name. She was deep. She let you adjust to this new level of bliss.

Your toes curled as your fingers wrapped around her arms. She mumbled something and you nodded wrapping your hands around her neck bringing her closer. Your lips clashed and her hips started moving. She moved fast and hard. The sound of your bodies slapping filled the room and the smell of sex seeped on the walls.

She wasn’t stopping. Not even when you scratched down her neck mimicking the marks of her tattoo. Not even when you tossed your head back chanting her name. Instead she held your head with her hand, she buried her face in your neck and fucked you senseless.

You gasped for air feeling the hot pressure between your legs. It coursed through your body. It coiled in your pussy and it was ready to explode.

“Billieee,” you whined for the hundredth time. “I’m gonna-“ you cursed and tossed your head back even though she was still holding you in place fucking into you like there was no tomorrow. Like you didn’t have to get back to your lives and pretend you didn’t exist.

“Cum,” she snarled wrapping an arm around your lower body pulling you closer to her faux cock. You recited an incoherent string of words as fire shot through your body. You convulsed in her arms and Billie whispered something inaudible to the camera. She let go of your head to wipe your forehead. She slowly pulled out as your mouth hung open gasping for air. She kissed your cheek before taking the camera.

The lavender cock glistened as she showed it off slapping it on your belly before lowering herself so both her and the camera were at eye level with your pussy.

“All fucked out,” she whispered as your pussy clenched around nothing. She ran her thumb between your folds. You were soaked. Her finger slid easily and you shivered at her touch before whining.

“I’m sensitive,” you hummed trying to grab her hand.

“I just want to see this later,” Billie answered moving your hand. If this was the thing that was going to hold her over until next time you met, she was going to remember it exactly how she experienced it. She wanted to remember the way she made you cum to the point of shakes. Your pussy still throbbing.

She kissed your thigh placing the camera on your belly. You were too weak to hold it, but you did with both hands. You focused on how she peppered your thighs with kisses. Her eyes closed, ponytail messy. You reached out for her hair setting it free. It fell around her shoulders tickling your skin.

With the little strength you had, you pushed it to the side as she kissed your pussy whispering something you couldn’t really hear. She ran a stripe between your folds making your body shudder then she kissed your hips, right below your belly button, each breast, and finally blew a kiss to the camera before taking it and angling it so it shakily showed your lips sloppily connecting.

A few moments later, she was leading you to the shower. Your naked bodies relaxed in the steam forming in the room. She lathered her hands before gently running them down your limbs cleaning and massaging simultaneously. You moaned and tilted your head as she stood behind you. Billie smiled and kissed the back of your head. When you turned to return the favor, you saw the way she was looking at you.

It made your heart flutter. You felt the heat in your cheeks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked reaching for the body wash. You pumped some into your hand lathering until you saw suds. Billie furrowed her brows.

"Like what?" she shrugged turning so she was facing the water.

"I don't know," you giggled trying to play it off. Your hands ran along her shoulders and she moaned blissfully. You ran your hands down the side of her body, your thumbs following the path of her tattoo. You soothed were the strap had left some marks then your hands snaked around her body.

Billie's body tensed when she felt your body press on hers. Your head resting on her back, your hands trailing up her belly until the were cupping her breasts. You squeezed for good measure before letting go and urging her to switch with you so you could rinse off.

What was that all about? She wondered as the two of you finished your shower.

She had a new pair of boxers on and an oversized t-shirt now. You searched for your clothes in your clean pair of underwear. As you reached for the floor, Billie reached out for you. Her hand resting on your lower back.

"Same time next week?" you asked absentmindedly grabbing your clothes and placing it on the dresser. You shuffled through the pile trying to find your bottoms first, Billie's hand still on your back. She turned you quickly cupping your face.

"No, I want to see you sooner than that," she declared caressing your cheek with her thumb. She searched your eyes for any signs of denial, but you were speechless. This wasn't in the arrangement. You saw each other once a week or longer if either of you were busy and you strictly kept it at that. You'd leave once it was over and no one was ever the wiser.

"Sleep here with me tonight," she whispered still rubbing your cheek with her thumb.

"Okay," you whispered back allowing yourself to melt into her touch. Her lips touched yours upon agreement. Her arm wrapped around your lower back and you hummed contently as your bodies pressed together.

"Do you have an extra shirt for me?" you whispered against her lips and Billie nodded. She'd come prepared. Had this her plan all along? She cupped your jaw with both hands now, lips puckering not wanting to break the kiss again.

It wasn't in your agreement, but it was just one night.

[musamora]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆｡˚

content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.

You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.

As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.

“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”

And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.

But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.

But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening. 

In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.

You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.

His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.

And he would always be thankful for that.

His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.

In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

But that had been the norm for thousands of years.

And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.

However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.

“Hot damn.”

His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.

Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”

Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.

“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.

You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”

“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”

You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”

“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.

“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.

You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”

Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”

However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.

“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”

“I am not your babe, Adam.”

You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”

“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.

His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”

His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”

He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”

You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.

“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.

“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”

“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent. 

But that was a terrible mistake.

Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.

“Die.”

“Dad!”

Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.

“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”

The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.

“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”

Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”

You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”

“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”

“(Name),” he said, voice stern.

The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”

“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.

“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”

You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”

You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.

“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’

You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”

A silence persisted.

“Your future wife, hm?”

“…shit.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss

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