but the sky looks cool

how can you not think space is cool???? how can you not look at the sky and get completely fucked up thinking about it???? how can you think science is boring???????

//down in the forest 

we’ll sing a chorus 

one that everybody knows 

hands held higher 

we’ll be on fire 

singing songs that nobody wrote//

A Happy Birthday to the man and the legend, Mr. Jimi Hendrix. 

Following

A/N: I didn’t like the other story I did for dear anon so here’s another take of it. Idk, maybe I’m just not good at jealous Lucifer, but oh god do I try. 

He seethes when he sees you with another man, the blood in his vessel practically boils. He knows the expression on your face, he knows each and every twitch of your muscles and how it defines you, how you feel without you needing to say it. The discontent look on your face as you take a sip of your whiskey, looking away from the man who was supposed to replace him. To replace him with such a filthy ape makes his fists clench, his jaw tighten, the ape could barely be classified as that with how poorly he treated you. One arm slung around your shoulders abruptly and the forced smile on your face, the tense shoulders that spoke volumes that he couldn’t see.

Not like Lucifer could.

He knew how you felt, why you left him and your reasons for doing so. You were prone to bouts of restlessness, fidgeting in your own skin like you couldn’t stand the body God had given you. You wandered across the Earth and for the first time since God, Lucifer had followed. It was foreign to him, but you were an entire enigma, you knew who he was - his goal, his hatred and you still smiled at him. He wondered if this was what Gabriel meant, but the ache of his brothers passing reminds him not to think of it.

“We were never a species meant to last long,” He hears your voice during the first few times he interacted with you. There was that urge to fly on broken wings, that fidgeting feeling just being around you, restlessness that kept his mind preoccupied for days. “There is good, but we will destroy ourselves before we save ourselves.”

He never tied you down much like he wanted to, keep you by his side until he figured out every single tick that made you, you. But that would take away from your nature that he desired to watch, you flowed like the rivers around the fires in his hell, avoiding his flames and washing over him. It was breathtaking as it was frustrating, he wanted to understand you but the more he knew the less he understood.

He wanted to wipe the planet of your kind, and you had left him afraid that you would keep him from his desires.

“Why,” He remembers asking the night you were leaving, the bitter tears and smile on your face that pained him.

“Even monsters deserve the chance to be loved.”

You had pressed a kiss to his cheek and left that night, left him standing in the old ruined cathedral where he had made a temporary home out of. A mockery, one that you had laughed and danced between the broken pews singing praises and prayers.

But you had been happy then, the smile on your face hadn’t been forced. He didn’t need to force it there, you had stood up and danced willingly, shaking all the tense muscles out to invisible music that he watched. Wondering just how strange and beautiful you could be, how it was even possible - how had his father made something as enigmatic and untouchable as you were to him?

He hadn’t wanted to burn you, to take away that light that burned so brightly inside of you. Even though every instinct he had told him to lock you away and keep you to himself, he knew that you wouldn’t be you if he did that. Not what fascinated him and confused him at the same time, so he let you walk and once you were far enough away he burned the cathedral down in his anger.

And then he followed you.

Flowers bloomed in your steps and each one he took behind you burned them all away. You traveled far, further than he thought you would have and you didn’t look back even when your shoulders hunched and you mouth covered your painful cries.

He had planned to wait until you returned to him willingly but he couldn’t stand to watch it. The perverse touches against you, the tight lipped smiles that graced your lips. The way you carefully shrugged his arm off your shoulders and pressed yourself further into the counter, making yourself less available to the man who couldn’t take a hint.

You knew spells, you could castrate the man with a snap of your fingers but you chose not to, simply gritting your teeth and sipping down the whiskey that burned your throat, if the way your eyes watered was any indication. Lucifer hadn’t taken you for a whiskey drinker, or one to drink at all and it only showed how much he still didn’t know you and how much he wanted to.

His restraint and patience all but shattered when he saw the hand slip onto your thigh, and before you could wave your hand and whisper the spell Lucifer had moved. One step forward and his wings carried him behind you, one hand gently on the small of your back while the other held the man’s in a vice grip. The heat and strength from his hand causing the man to give a startled yelp and cry, a beg to be let go but Lucifer was only smiling, tight lipped like you had been previously.

“I think you need to learn some manners, can’t you see her body language says no?”

He wanted to fight, and Lucifer was going to let him. The rage was pouring in his veins and the eerie red of his eyes began to bleed through his vessel, a haunting and demonic look fit to scare anyone straight.

“Sh’yours?” It comes out a slur, the wasted breath of the man making Lucifer wrinkle his nose in disgust, releasing the wrist he held and leaving behind a burn mark of it. A reminder, Lucifer tells himself as he waves away the putrid breath.

“Yes,” It comes out in a tone that bodes no argument. It’s not a demand, it’s a statement and he could feel the flutter of pride in his chest.

You were his.

“Shoulda kept her on a leesh,” He speaks again, slamming his drink down and throwing you a disgusted look. “Woman can’t keep her hands to herself.”

It was a lie, he knew it was one. He had watched and though you had agreed for some unfathomable reason to this date- this arrangement you hadn’t once done as he was lying about.

“Sinners go to hell you know,” His hand moves and press to the man’s forehead, and soon he’s screaming and crying for help. Patrons of the establishment scream and run, the walls shake and tremble and glass breaks and the body hits the ground, burnt and indistinguishable from what it once was.

There are hunters, fearful but willing as they take out their weapons and he’s still so angry. The hand on your thigh had him seeing red in more ways than one, and while you took another sip of your whiskey he released the frustration on the rest of those willing to fight him.

It was unfair, but it felt good to indulge in that senseless violence. His fist hitting their flesh and he could understand why your species liked to fight, to feel the bones breaking beneath his knuckles, the skin tearing and when he was done playing with them it was only a split second before they joined the other guy. Burned bodies crumpled onto the floor and burnt flesh that made your nose wrinkle in disgust as you downed the rest of your drink.

You’re quiet and Lucifer watches you carefully, there’s a small part of him that awaits some form of anger from you. No one, not even god liked the anger he possessed and it’s why he was cast out in the first place - the anger at humankind. But you set the glass down carefully avoiding the shards of broken glass from broken lights and mirrors, gently wiping a spot clean for you to rest your elbows onto the bar.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is quiet when you finally turn to look at him, and he can see the way your eyes burn with unshed tears and he takes a step closer but you hold your hand up, not wanting him to get closer. For once he doesn’t listen, moving close enough to lean down and press his forehead against the back of your neck while his hands snake around your waist gently.

“Lucifer,” You repeat yourself quietly and there’s a spark of possession in his veins, of demanding and taking but he shoves it all down. You would not be the same if he simply took, and you were the only thing God created that he can say he truly cared for.

Truly loved.

“I can’t let you go,” It’s barely a whisper, and there’s the underlying tone of won’t let you go unspoken on his lips as he closes his eyes. His forehead resting carefully against your neck, there’s only so much time before the place becomes bustling with activity at the destruction.

You move to stand and he reluctantly releases you, taking a step back and watching you carefully. Prepared to follow, but you’re staring at him and he can read you and opens his hand for you to take, and when you do the both of you are gone in a split second.

The soft sound of crickets and toads fill up the air when he gently sets you down onto the grass, and he could swear that flowers bloomed beneath your feet when you took off your shoes and held them in your hands. Swinging your arm with them as you began to walk across the meadow, directionless. He follows.

“I love you,” He freezes in his step, watching as you slow down until you’re standing still and looking up at the midnight sky. The cool summer breeze plays with the stray strands of your hair, the moon reflecting off of you like an ethereal and untouchable and unattainable being.

If he was the sun, hot, burning and unforgiving then you were the moon, beautiful and breathtaking while you guided people through the dark.

“But that’s why I left,” You sound broken and he wants to move closer but his feet are rooted to the spot, waiting to hear what you have to say needing to know. “What am I to the mighty fallen angel? The same human who he was cast down for hating, you have better things to do then entertain fantasies that will never come true, not really.”

You were human, a human witch. A hated between both humans and the supernatural, the delicate in-between. How could he love something that wasn’t either, but a mixture of things he hated combined? You breathe out a bitter laugh, your free hand moving up to press your palm against your eyes and wiping at them.

“Abaddon had come for a visit,” You turn to face him and his face sours at the name. What had abaddon wanted? “She is fit to be with you, not me. Knows exactly how to restore you to your throne and has every intention of doing so, dedication, ruthlessness.” You could be all those things if you had tried, but you would never stand toe to toe with abaddon, not in this life or the next.

“I was made clear of where I stood, and.. I understand it too.”

Where you stood? Abaddon would be lucky if she managed to get away alive once he found her.

“[Name],” He finally moves, unhinges his feet from the ground where they had remained bolted when you had turned to him with that heartbreaking look on your face. Bitter defeat but understanding and acceptance, and that frustrated him - he didn’t want you to give up so easily. But considering who had spoken to you, he didn’t doubt abaddon hadn’t given you a chance and probably wouldn’t have. He stands before you, his hands moving to your face to caress your cheeks carefully and there’s a small smile on his face.

There’s beauty and then there’s you. “Your place is beside me, and only me.”

The tears drip down and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you gently as he attempts to soothe you. Your hesitant hands wrapping around him and it feels strangely right and fitting in a way he had never felt before.

“Let’s go home,” He murmurs against your hair, gently swaying the two of you back and forth but pulls back slightly to look at your face when you laugh.

“You burnt it down.”

“And I’ll burn down every other establishment that you leave, and anyone who comes too close, and-”

“And where’s home?”

“Anywhere you want.”

That raises an eyebrow from you.

“Anywhere?”

“I’m King,” He says his voice dark and you can see the red in his eyes. “And I’ll build a castle for the queen.”