#burneddivinity

The SWELL of a somber,  yet vaguely recognizable piano poured from Lux as Crowley stepped past the thresh hold.  Golden eyes hidden by DARK SHADES  (  even when it was incredibly dark )  scanned the crowd as he reached the balcony.  LUCIFER was not  at all difficult to spot,  considering that the music was coming from him as he played the piano in the CENTER of the room.   He sang the words POWERFULLY,   his hands moving quickly,  elegantly  over the keys as he went.

The demon weaved through the crowd as he made his way down the steps,  moving as CASUALLY as he could.  Lingering close to the bar  (  &  absolutely  getting himself a drink ),  Crowley didn’t mind WAITING ;  it had been quite  some time since he’d heard the Devil  sing a tune,  let alone play a piano.  He was quite excellent.

Once the song came to an end,  the crowd APPLAUDED whilst Lucifer soaked in their praise with a smile—–&  then he turned toward the bar where their eyes met.  Crowley tilted his chin upward,  brows LIFTING with emphasis,  a silent greeting.  Once Lucifer was close enough to hear him,  the demon spoke,  sounding CASUAL (  as if he hadn’t  gone out of his way to come to Los Angeles JUST to catch a glimpse  of an old friend ),

 ❝ Heard you were in the neighborhood—– ❞

               (  “ the neighborhood ”,  of course,  meaning On Earth  )

Apparently that something was Peter Parker’s father. He’d been living with him for weeks now, ever since his Aunt and Uncle....well, ever since his Aunt and Uncle. Sometimes, he tried to picture what it would’ve been like growing up with the man. Waking up in the morning to him playing the piano, pancakes on Saturdays, more money then he could even dream of just as a norm. 

But also the constant partying. The non-stop sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. What would it have been like to grow up with a man that didn’t care about him? Because it was obvious that Lucifer didn’t. He didn’t love his own son, Peter tried not to be hurt by that. Peter SHOULDN’T be hurt by that, because until a month ago they didn’t even know about each other, you can’t love someone in a month. And even if you could, he didn’t seem the type to want, like, or even tolerate children. 

So Peter Parker tried to make himself as invisible as possible, he made sure not to leave a mess anywhere, he didn’t leave his room unless it was to go to school or to eat, he didn’t complain, and when he woke up in the middle of the night, startled awake by his latest nightmare, he tried his best to cry quietly. He didn’t want to bother Lucifer more than he had to after all. 

But tonight, tonight’s nightmare had been the worst one yet. And he just NEEDED someone. He could hear the soft strains of the piano coming from the living room, and maybe if he could just sit by him. He’d be quiet.

“Can I join you?” He asked cautiously, rounding the corner. 

@burneddivinity​ (x):

A sound that might’ve been a laugh escapes him; it sounds more like a scoff as Lucifer holds some distance between them. He tosses back the glass of whiskey he had and turned towards his twin—the other half he had missed so much over the many millennia it had been since last they spoke.

“You care,” he repeats with tension in his voice that only came when he got emotional. And this was one of those buttons that make the corners of his eyes want to water and he fights it, with fists clenched until his knuckles were white. “You broke. My wings.” He said, a tremble to his voice as he stood to his full height of six three.

“Then you, and the rest of the family, didn’t speak to me unless you had to, for so long that frankly, I’ve lost count. I guess I’m just too evil for your tastes, aren’t I?” Amenadiel calling him evil five years ago had stung. Now he had hung himself on it since then.

“If you care, you have a strange way of showing it, Michael.” There’s an edge to his voice that simply… sounded broken. But he hadn’t left. Or told Michael to leave—that alone spoke volumes about the situation. He takes a moment to get a cigarette out and light it, doesn’t speak again until it’s settled between his lips and he’s tucking the little metal case away. “What are you doing here, anyway? On Earth, I mean. Father have you running errands, or something?”

He knows he shouldn’t have said those words the second they left his mouth. Not because they were not the truth (they were) but because he had no right to say something like that. Not after what he had done.

Michael couldn’t stop the flinch at hearing Lucifer speak his crime out loud, a pained expression flitting across his face before he managed to smooth it out again but there was still some of it left in his eyes. “I know.” A thing he would always feel guilty and revolted about. How could he have done this to his brother? To his other half? Just thinking back to that moment made him feel sick every time. The feeling of Lucifer’s wings breaking beneath his hands, the sickening crunch... He had to stop that train of thought before he truly lost the content of his stomach.

“Some of us couldn’t enter hell unless given express permission.”, Michael admitted quietly once he felt like he could open his mouth without throwing up. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried a few times to break through but His power had been too strong, not allowing him passage into his brother’s realm (prison).

All in all this conversation was going better than he could have ever hoped for. He had expected to be thrown out (literally) or at the very least be punched a few times before he could even say one word. “I left Heaven soon after.... After.” It was obvious which ‘after’ he meant: Lucifer’s fall. “I couldn’t stay there any longer.” Not with how just being in their father’s (and some of their siblings’) presence had made him feel sick to his very core.

:>

It hadn’t been long since the lab he had spend most of his life in had been destroyed and along with it most of the doctors had been killed too. It had left him stumbling through a hot and dry area (a large desert) and he had walked for what felt like an eternity till he had reached a place with lots of humans and tall buildings.

It was torture to his sensitive senses but also the only available option for food and water that he could think of. So he ventured closer but still tried to stick to the abandoned places after he had a stone thrown at him by one of the humans, shouting something about “not needing more freak in this city” or something like that.

Of course, sticking close to the abandoned places didn’t help much with the search of food and water but he had found some, even if the company at the place - a corpse, which wasn’t dead for long if his senses were right - wasn’t ideal for his poor nose. He was huddled into a tight ball one floor beneath the corpse, at least there it was dark and dry. It wasn’t until much latter, when he had finished his dry bread that he heard noise, several people talking. Some unfamiliar and a few familiar smells filling his nose. He wasn’t sure why they were here but he stayed quiet as they seemed more interested in the dead body but then suddenly a voice spoke up (male) and they seemed to be heading his way...

Pressing himself against the wall, silver-blue eyes glowed slightly as fear filled him. What if some of the doctors had survived and had come to get him back? He didn’t want to go back to that place! A whimper escaped him before he could help it and there was no way the man hadn’t seen him now. But... was he really a man? Something smelled different about him, something that made him feel comforted and afraid all at once.