like fireflies drifting skyward

HAHAHA two fandoms I’m unfamiliar with! And a bonus third! This will end poorly. Possibly to be continued.


Trixie was sleeping, and Chloe was washing the dishes while Lucifer was drying. It was odd to think someone who was once an annoyance to her now seamlessly occupied a significant part of her life. Lucifer was putting the dishes away, and she had never noticed when he started noticing things like that. First coffee, then her favorite snack, then Trixie’s lunch. It warmed her, this peace.

“I saw something strange last night,” Chloe started, pondering the mystery. They did this now, sharing details of their lives from when the other wasn’t present.

Lucifer hummed noncommittally, disinterested. “Darling, Danial’s face just looks like that.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “No, not him. It was during a case. A person, followed by a box? But the box was walking?” She was still perplexed. What on Earth…? But the Devil and Heaven and Hell were real, proof standing next to her, and maybe Lucifer knew about a box. That walked.

Even in her head it sounded preposterous. 

But she had Lucifer’s attention now. “The man. Did he, perchance, have four eyes?” he inquired, faux-casual.

“Lucifer, don’t be rude,” Chloe admonished. “Not everyone who needs them constantly wears glasses. Besides, people wearing glasses don’t have four eyes.”

Lucifer smirked. “It comes with the territory, dear,” Lucifer said airily. “I am the Devil, after all. But, more importantly, did he carry a book that told him what to say?”

Chloe looked flummoxed. “A book that… Okay, ignoring the escalation of your insanity, no, he did not have a book. He did have a smartphone with Google Translate, if that means anything to you.”

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. “How modern of him. I should have known Twoflower would keep up with the times. Pardon me, I have a spy to tip off.”

And with that, Lucifer smartly walked out of the apartment before Chloe could suppose that this misadventure would end poorly.

How right she hypothetically would have been.


The spy was less a spy and more a collector of secrets. Secrets, as it happened, contained powerful magic, and being owed favors from this particular spy always paid off.

The spy was actually a wizard shunned by most of the magical community. But he was content; he had enough energy to power his house for lifetimes and endless amusement.

I mean, really, the tangled lives of his confessors. Who ever heard of faking not one, not two, but seventeen deaths? Though, really, seventeen was probably the optimal number of times to fake one’s death. It, after all, combined the magical power of seven with eternal youth.

When the Spy ran low on amusement, he released fireflies into the night to glean secrets from open windows. It was an elegant solution: the flies could sit on walls to collect secrets, and small portions of said secrets would extend their lives. Simple. Neat. The way he liked things.

That night, as he was about to release his fireflies, Lucifer burst in without knocking. 

“He’s back,” Lucifer announced, slightly breathless. “Twoflower’s been sighted.”

“Where?” the Spy asked. “The Great Continent?”

Lucifer made a face. “Earth,” he admitted, “but I’m not telling you precisely where. I don’t want you going there.”

The Spy looked offended. “Whyever not? I am a joy and a delight. Regardless, what did you want?”

“My secret,” Lucifer said. “It’s a fair trade, and you owe me a favor besides.”

The Spy snorted. “A bit of incomplete information for a secret is not a fair trade, Morningstar, and I can’t do your favor. The secret’s not mine anymore.”

Lucifer was furious. “Who has it, then?” he grit out, incensed but aware angering the Spy was unwise at best.

The Spy looked uncomfortable. “Well, er, your Father, I believe. He threatened to smite me, and I…”

But Lucifer had already left, slamming the door behind him.


“Why,” Lucifer asked Dr. Linda the next day, “does he care now? It’s been literal millennia.”

Dr. Linda made a humming sound. “While I…process that, why don’t you think about how you’d feel about reconnecting with your Father?”

Lucifer’s mind, though, was filled with a persistent buzzing.

<Psst. Lucy. Where’s Ebag?> an unfamiliar mind queried.

Lucifer went still. <In order, one, don’t call me Lucy. Two, who are you and why have you invaded my thoughts. Three, I have no idea who or what an Ebag is.>

<Lucy! It’s me, God! I know I sort of disowned you and cast you out of Heaven, but that’s in the past. Anyway, your fan club is looking for you, and you’re not responding to summons. Why aren’t you in Hell?> This was all thought very quickly, and Lucifer was eager to end the ‘conversation’ just as fast.

<Please get out of my head, Dad,> Lucifer thought sarcastically skyward. <And don’t bother me, preferably ever.>

A nearby movement caught Lucifer’s attention. Dr. Linda.

“Right, so your Father,” she prompted. “Would you be willing to reconnect?”

“That’s a hard no,” Lucifer stated, “and stop writing ‘daddy issues.’”

Long Live the Queen

The winning entry for Limi’s contest on!


No kingdom runs without its queen;
Not this one, with its surly king.
She is the sun, the stars and moon—
She is beauty in radiant bloom.

Her hair is blue, eyes steady, wise;
Love and kindness without disguise.
A gift from her is treasured, close—
Given to those who engage the most.

Elfin ears and clever mind,
Observe her and you’ll surely find
Grace in power, a fair hand—
She is beloved across the land. 

here is a secret

here is a secret, can you seal your lips?
ghost across mine: a promise, a kiss.
i will be fair, steady, strong;
this feels so right, it can’t be wrong.

She was trapped against a wall in a deserted corridor—their deserted corridor, across from a spiral staircase that led to the heart of the library—and he was…he was…

Leaning in. Looming. Dark, transcendental, like a phoenix burning in reverse.

She wished, not for the first time, that she was taller. He wouldn’t be able to threaten and imply and…

…tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear while whispering in it like they were lovers. In the twilight blanketing the castle, they looked like any couple in the midst of a tryst. But there was nothing romantic about this.

This was wanting, yearning, burning: a wildfire of emotions rather than the gentle trickle of affection she was accustomed to. Dazed and slightly breathless, she asked, “So, that’s it, then?” And at his nod, she shook herself out of her stupor, slipped under his arm, and walked away.

one year earlier

“This,” Wes declared, ‘is not ideal.”

“Oh, hush,” she admonished, “there could be dragons.”

“But, Sky, there might as well be dragons. It’s raining fire.”

Sky flicked her eyes heavenward. “Now, really? I hadn’t noticed.” Then, “We have magic, you numbskull. Conjure water.”

But before any conjuring could be done, a dense shadow approached. 

“Sky,” Wes gulped. “Incoming.”

Everything went black.

A scream.

When the light returned, Sky was gone.

we deal in shadows, here.
possibility everywhere.
a trail of dust ends in naught,
says that when we turn, we won’t get caught.

The world was not on fire.

That was important. Because, because, the sun was not angry, rising and setting peacefully instead, and the moon was able to serenely glow in the night. Shadows dappled amongst the light, and, if they sometimes grew, no one minded, now did they?

It was a quiet world. It was a darker world. It was the world Sky woke up in.

The dimness was her first clue.

The next ones were increasingly alarming.

It was as if someone was following her, living with her, intimately knowing every crevice of her life. It was eerie, unsettling, though she could never seem to assign it any importance. 

Because, as it did with all inhabitants of this darker world, it slipped out of her consciousness after a flicker of thought. 

dim the lights and watch the stars,
their immortality shall be ours.
we'll burn bright, brighter than flame,
they'll never forget the sound of our names

Time moved differently here. A thousand years could pass in the blink of an eye, and Sky started losing track of her age.

(Was she supposed to be dead? Was she dead? She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t, she didn’t, she didn’t—)

The seasons were unchanging; it was an eternal winter. She marked time by the sun and the stars when she could, when the light wasn’t muffled by gloom.

(How was this ever preferable?)

Something was building, bursting, changing, and she didn’t know what.

She hoped for spring.

another secret, can you keep it close?
everyone knows this, but i love you the most.
we're halves of a whole, a lock and a key,
we'll somehow rewrite history.

The day she found the rose was the day she pieced together the secret.

There was a person—a man, yet a star—trapped, cursed, desperate, looking for an enchantress in a world where magic was unknown. Looking for her.

He was dying, and she was his last chance. 

That was the day the notes appeared. Philosophy and poetry and pages of letters. Sky read voraciously, hoping for a clue, and with each twist of phrase, she fell a little deeper until she was submerged, subsumed in the life of a stranger she was racing to save.

The clock was ticking.

here is my hand, take it in yours.
we'll dance a lifetime, across marble floors.
this kingdom is ours, here is the throne.
my heart is yours, your heart is home.

The answer was the solar eclipse. 

For a moment—just a moment—she could reach into the ether and pull and pull and pull—

—and stumbling out came a man—the sun—wary and uncertain, eyes wild. Pale and gaunt, but beautiful nonetheless. 

This was a beginning, she knew. And an end.

He spoke her name, a low caress of sound, and she imagined a lifetime of hearing that, waking up to his face and fighting for each other. 

With time, her infatuation became true.

With time, he vowed vengeance.

With time, she walked away.

She never thought of that forever ago, with Wes and lost possibilities.

you want to know everything;
leaves me breathless, tingling.
your skin is fair, your eyes are wise.
i can only hypothesize.

an eternity later

He returned with neither fanfare nor explanation. 

He was still unfairly beautiful.

(A ghost of a memory blurred his face with a monster’s. She wondered why? When? How? With sickening realization, she remembered waking up out of place, with a sense of everything being tilted sideways and she must have meddled, would face consequences—)

His eyes spoke volumes. They were dark. They were brown. They were wise. 

There was no madness there.

once more, forever

Commission for Limikkin of her OC.


slowly, softly, you will rise
drawn by a presence from the skies.
an angel, golden, spreads her wings.
while you rest, she softly sings.

As a haunting melody trails off and the sun paints the sky gold, the world slowly wakes. Well, maybe not the whole world, but a part of it, stretching and shuffling into the day ahead. 

Here, where people linger in the limbo between slumber and awareness.

This, these quiet morning hours, is the Angel of Awakening’s domain. She shepherds the rising souls into consciousness with gentle nudges, wishes them peace, and moves onto the next group.

It’s an endless cycle, a circling of the planet, but she’s content. She wants for nothing; few things hold more meaning for her than what she has.

She’s needed: invisibly appreciated and silently loved.

It is all she needs.

limned by light, she glows and glows.
there is no tongue she does not know.
this is her eternity:
to watch the world sleep peacefully

All angels shine; this is a fact. There is an aura, a halo of gold, a presence.

But she shines brighter, more serenely, like a candle that never falters. She is warmth. She is flame that doesn’t burn. She is everlasting radiance. 

She is a dream the world yearns for. Cherishes. Peace blankets Earth where she gazes, and spirits turn towards her like flowers seeking the sun.

She glows ever brighter with their adoration.

she blesses you, when you wake.
she gives and gives and does not take.
she is gentle and good and kind,
a fairer soul you will not find

It is easy to think the Angel of Awakening’s job finishes when the souls she guards awake. 

Let not this misconception cloud your mind; nothing could be further from the truth.

Nightmares aren’t just for the night. Terrors lurk everywhere and know not the demarcation of time. They are endless, growing, unholy. Infiltrating thoughts and dreams alike, they wreak havoc, dimming the light.

With infinite patience, she casts them aside to guide the world into waking once more.

Somehow, it is enough.

Maybe Someday

“The Queen is here, the Queen is here!” an excitable knuffel announced. 

It was a peaceful day—or, it was, until the excitable knuffel made himself known—and the Queen was visiting their village, as she did with many others between her royal duties. It was tradition now, one without remembered origins, much like the Queen herself.

Some things just were. 

“Oh, I hope she likes these flowers,” came a soft voice. “I gathered them myself this morning.”

“Don’t worry so much, Izzy,” a knuffel braiding Izzy’s hair replied. “She’ll love them. Just…don’t squeeze them so hard; they’re not trying to run away.”

“I’m just nervous,” Izzy admitted. “The Queen is so kind, and wise, and good. I want to be just like her someday.”

Her friend laughed. “All knuffels are wise, Izzy. We know tomatoes are fruits, but ketchup isn’t jam!”

The excitable knuffel produced drums out of nowhere and started banging them. “We’re going to be LATE!” he warned darkly. “LATE!”


Every knuffel in the village (and some from those nearby) was in the main square, anxiously craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the Queen. 

“Oh no,” Izzy moaned. “They all brought flowers. What if the Queen can’t hold them all?”

“I’m sure she thought of everything,” her friend soothed. “Look! She’s there! With a giant basket, too!”

Izzy only saw other knuffels pointing. “I’m too short, and we’re in the back. Maybe we were late, after all.”

“The Queen’s here all day; she’ll be able to meet us, Izzy!” But as the crowd shifted, Izzy and her friend became separated from each other.

Ominously, booming started. 

Upon a moment’s reflection, Izzy realized the excitable knuffel had started pounding his drums again.

She hated crowds and noises.


The sun was almost setting, and she had been bustled about all day, politely, as knuffels were gentle souls. But she was about to meet the Queen!

Izzy glanced at the flowers, and her heart sank. They were limp, exactly as her friend had warned. The Queen would probably throw them away. She had so many other, prettier flowers.

At the sound of footsteps and a tinkling laugh, Izzy panicked. She was about to meet the Queen and give her day-old flowers! She couldn’t even look in the Queen’s direction, choosing to look at her feet instead.

“I’m sorry they’re wilted,” Izzy whispered, placing her flowers delicately in the basket. “They were prettier early today.”

The Queen smiled, eyes shining. “Izzy, right?”

Izzy startled. “How – ?”

“I met your friend earlier, and she told me who to look out for.” Lowering her voice conspiratorially, she continued, “Don’t tell anyone, but I used to be shy, too.”

Izzy glanced up in wonder. With a wink and a smile, the Queen was gone.

The Queen used to be like her! Maybe she’d be like the Queen someday, too.

the luckiest of everywhere

you’ve lived a life of highs and lows.
you’re stronger than you’ll ever know.
i hope one day, you’ll look and see
a world filled by possibility.

when you’re afraid or hurt or scared,
know for you, i’ll be there.
you are my darling precious one.
you shine as brilliant as the sun.

you can relax, you need the rest.
i’m sending love and all the best.
i wish you well and fortune fair—
may you be the luckiest of everywhere.

imaginary thoughts

when i’m dreaming an imaginary thought,
i do exactly whatever i want. 
count the clouds in the sky, surrounded by blue, 
stroll through a tranquil garden, blooming only for you.

your gravity has me dangling upside-down: 
heart in my throat, eyes turned around. 
i don't know your name, but i do adore you; 
in my dreams, you feel the same way, too. 

don't stop. keep on dreaming, 
this is how perfect we could be. 
don't stop. keep on dreaming, 
this is the best picture that you'll see. 
don't stop. look around you,
it's the most wonderful place of all. 
don't stop. don't look down,
imagine how far we would fall. 

feels like my pulse is racing, and you've just entered the room. 
feels like my stomach’s churning with butterflies all too soon. 
my heart belongs to you, now don't turn it into dust. 
i wish you could only see the possibility of us. 

in my imagination, we meet under the stars. 
in my not-so-perfect daydreams, we kiss in darkened bars. 
in my secret journal, i scrawl combinations of our names. 
because i still don't know yours, they're never quite the same. 

don't stop. keep on dreaming, 
let your imagination free. 
don't stop. keep on dreaming, 
this is really all we need. 
don't stop. look around you, 
it's the most wonderful place of all. 
don't stop. don't look down, 
imagine how far we would fall. 

if you exit the ballroom, will i fall out of love with you? 
i watch you ‘til you’re leaving to see if my hypothesis is true.

A Kinder Kingdom

For Limikkin’s contest at Kingdom of Knuffel. It’s a friendly community with avatars and pets!


“A Kinder Kingdom”
Hello, hello, how do you do?
This Knuffel Kingdom’s been waiting for you.
We’re small and close but our hearts have space,
So come on in; it’s a welcoming place.

Knuffels are kind, friendly, fun.
They love food, to play, and sun.
The Kingdom is filled with warmth and cheer—
Come enter, now, you’ll love it here.

Recreate yourself, escape your life.
A moment’s peace, no stress nor strife.
Play with knuffels, try a game—
Catch a fairy; with luck, not aim.

Hugs and fairies, treasure, too.
All that’s missing is surely you.
Friendship found, memories made—
Dive on in; no need to wait.