lveifer-blog

[lveifer-blog]

          "you are a mockery of everything divine."

                              thank you!

        prev. lveifer

[lveifer-blog]

          "you are a mockery of everything divine."

                              thank you!

        prev. lveifer

[lveifer-blog]

man all the ya novels about humans falling love with angels these days are so plain. i’m tired of stories where the only difference between the angel and the human is that the angel has a pair of wings and some cheesy hallmark-gold halo. i want angel/human romances with wild, godly monstrous angels.

give me a human who’s normally quiet and soft and terrified of everything but falls for this massively tall, half light half shadow amalgam with six wings, four arms, no eyes, and a mouth full of fangs.

give me a human who wonders at a halo as wide as they are tall, who reaches to touch it in admiration only to come back with bloody hands because the whole thing’s made of shining white-hot thorns.

give me scenes where the angel forces themselves to inhabit a human’s tiny weak body only so that they can hold their partner without disintegrating them.

give me angel/human romances where they can’t have conversations because every time the angel opens its mouth all the windows and mirrors shatter, or the human doesn’t speak because being near the angel fills them up with so much holy light they can barely breathe, let alone talk.

give me angels who return to their human partners at night covered in blood and dust and unashamed of that. give me humans who will splint the broken wings and kiss the blood off ragged, hungry mouths.

GIVE ME WILD, MESSY, TERRIFYING ANGEL/HUMAN ROMANCES

[lveifer-blog]

if i owe you something, like this! especially if i’ve taken forever on the reply! it will be drafted and replied to over on the new blog

[lveifer-blog]

Hell is empty. And all the devils are here.

William Shakespeare, The Tempest (via pyraumus)

[lveifer-blog]

ok...... so. I think I'm gonna reboot luci. i've been having so much trouble writing outside the circle of people i talk to often, and lately i've been getting a lot of guilt tripping that i don’t really know how to deal with. this blog hasn’t been very organized so i’m hoping a fresh blog might help me sort out all these threads, and give me some space to maybe make my rules a little more strict.

[lveifer-blog]

luci played for team G.B. for the olympics win. it should be noted that this would never happen in real life, and it hasn’t happened since 1936, because g.b. don’t play ice hockey

putting it down as a great team, and god as coach

the average age works for boys too! luci’s an old sports guy at 38, bad joints and all.

a forward as well, though the biggest problem with his training is that he’s constantly put in as a center when he works better as a winger. he’s a great forward, but if his talents were recognized and encouraged earlier, he could’ve been a phenomenal defenseman. but his father wanted him to be in for glory, and trained him as as this puck-hoarding, in-it-for-himself player

he’d be trusted with an A or a C just about as much as he’d be trusted with a gun

*whispers* my kings player bb

seriously years of not giving a shit and the very idea of luci playing for them has me like, switching jerseys omfg

still has the scars on his back, though it was from a freak “accident” and not pulling out his wings. (quotes used on luci’s part, since he believes it was deliberate, and most everyone else thinks he’s paranoid)

you’ll never catch him in plaid. or a “dumb ear hat”

100% more working out though (◡‿◡✿)

sweaty work out clothes included (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

fun things about verse. WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER; @lveifer and people who’re interested

this is chloe’s first time playing on team usa

she’s old for a hockey player! the average age of a professional player is generally in their late twenties, and she’s in her late thirties

her position is forward, typically center, but she has been in some good lines as a left-/right-winger

she used to hold an “A” (assistant/alternate captain)

her team is an imaginary team in the nwhl (*sighs* it’s my verse, i get to dream that they’re shown the same kinda scope as their male counterparts) called the l.a. dancers

wears 110% more plaid

[lveifer-blog]

[lveifer-blog]

or do you ponder your mother’s smile?                                                             reflect on your father’s pride?                                                                                                             -how did the apple taste, eve?

indie select CHLOE DECKER from lucifer on fox. ( poem by d.s. )

[lveifer-blog]

[lveifer-blog]

Lucifer bloody Morningstar was a fucking Olympic gold medalist. Cut the cheque, play the music, roll the music, end credits. Look at England - the little useless team that could. Oh, the feeling of being victorious on pure spite was enough to die happy. But throw in a cocktail of daddy issues, relentless brothers-in-managerial roles, and an entire united fanbase insisting he couldn't (or perhaps worse, wouldn't out of pure shame) get back on the ice? Nothing's ever been sweeter. Cliche as hell, but he'd even bitten down on the gold, just to be sure it wouldn't bend under pressure.

Unbreakable. He was unbreakable. He was a winner.

... Usually, a goal was worth a celly. A celly, for the folks at home, is the big group hug after any goal in the net - or a challenge to see who can tackle the scorer to the ground first. In a game, the two meanings blur together, really. And yet, he'd stood there, flipping his stick between his hands over and over.

You'd think a gold medal goal was worth a pat on the back.

Well, not that it mattered. He had his trophy, he had his pride, he had plenty of attention from all sorts that crowded the bar, and above all - he had just about the biggest fuck you to his family and everyone said he couldn't. That was enough... Which was why he'd wandered over to the bar by himself (standing off from the net, rolling his stick under his gloves) and sat down, hoping to get in one more whiskey before he picked from the crop of women still batting their eyes at him.

But before he could even open his mouth, the bartender was setting a shot glass down in front of him, nodding his head down the bar. Lucifer's mouth pressed in a thin line, frowning down at the drink. Well, who was he to say no to a drink? He scooped it up between three fingers, lifting it up to regard it for a moment before bringing it to his lips - and pausing once he spotted the blonde raising her glass. Another roadie? He thought he'd told the last of them to give him space while he went to collect drinks. But then her face flashed before him - the line up, women's gold-

Oh, he knew her. Ms. Chloe Decker, forward for USA’s women’s ice hockey team.

Amusement touching his lips, Lucifer tilted his head back and let the liquid slide all the way down, before he set the glass down. He got himself the whiskey he’d wandered over to get in the first place, and went to... speak with her. She was alone, and he couldn't let a fellow medalist spend her night of victory alone. He even said as much, putting on an old classic - a charming smile.

"So then. What is it we're celebrating tonight?"

she wasn’t used to drinking with the team. her motherly instincts tended to kick in - besides, she was more than used to playing the role of sober companion. but she wasn’t driving anyone home tonight. the whole team was getting babysat by agents, and - well, winning olympic gold was worth sitting down and taking a few shots. she’d even bought a round for dan and his team. despite the separation being a mess and a half (not even dragging the topic of his crazed roadies), she could offer a little sympathy. they really thought they were going to be side by side with the womens’ team this time around. they all did. dan had thanked her and even sat beside her for a moment, but had already called it an early night to relieve her mother of trixie-duty.

she was starting to regret not following his example. again, she wasn’t used to drinking with the team. even if she was feeling lighter, she couldn’t just relax and hang out. so she sat at the bar, people-watching and getting lost in her thoughts, alone. that is, until a familiar face sat down a few stools away from her. where did she know him from?

wait. no. she did remember. that was the man behind the stick that got the winning goal for the men’s gold. perhaps it was the loneliness, perhaps it was the alcohol, but whatever reason she had, she still ordered a shot and sent it down the way. words weren’t needed. simply the inclination of her glass in his direction to acknowledge him.

one hockey player to another.

@lveifer made me do it. i’m a victim. save me.

[lveifer-blog]

witterphoto: New work featuring Lucifer’s own Tom Ellis for NY Moves Magazine. Outstanding chap to shoot with! Thanks to a kick ass crew- Styling: @lisacstyles / @lisaandtylerj Photo Assist: @cranberryjones, @mb_schwartzman, @jeffmaksym

[lveifer-blog]

[lveifer-blog]

@cellobowsandarrows

Even if the low quality of the phone camera's definition, the setting of the video was familiar. She recognized the walls, the glass doors that opened out onto the balcony - it was the flat high above LUX, though things had been moved around frequently since. Sharper edges, she noted. The sleek corners of the couches, the glass tables set carefully along the wall of whiskey - where it had been replaced by another stack of books, mismatched in contrast to the more thoughtful side library it accompanied. Where a multitude of colourful, worn, baby books and nearly torn YA paperbacks now littered; a stunning display of alcoholism. But still, it was familiar. She knew the sight of her father, bent over his great, unapologetically sharp, piano.

He made no sign of recognizing he was being filmed, but he rarely did when as entranced by his music. Her father had a habit, see, of working through things with his music. For a long time she assumed it was the outlet of his negativity, pouring the rage and the tragedy - but she'd seen moments like this before. Despite only tinkering with notes, still working his way into the song he wanted, she could see the way his shoulders rolled back, his eyes half-shut in dazed contentment.

Honestly, the man was a genius. He had a magnificent ear for music. Only needed to hear a song he liked once before he could sit at his piano and get it down. All it took was this, tapping a few notes out. And then... he inhaled, and her heart swelled a little. She knew this all too well. She'd sat at the same step where the video was shooting from, half hidden in the shadows, half by his ignorance.

"Isn't she lovely? Isn't she wonderful? Isn't she precious? Less than one minute old. I never thought through love we'd be making one as lovely as she. But isn't she  lovely? Made from love..." his voice came out hushed, starting the song carefully. But then the flicker of a smile appeared on his face, and her father closed his eyes. He huffed, laughing to himself, and he threw himself into the song, harmonies flowing from his hands into the keys.

"Isn't she pretty? Truly the angel's best! Boy I'm so happy, we've been-" He cast a look up, far past the ceiling, and gave a hearty laugh. He hastily cut through the lyrics, "Isn't she lovely! Life and love are the same. Life is-"

He ran through the same few bars, and the motive for his piano playing was realized.

"Life is Lily? Life is Mary? Life is... Kate Jr?" he smacked the keys, muttering under his breath. The screen shook, the first noise from the recorder finally heard as she laughed.

Her father looked up, and nearly immediately turned his head away, muttering, "Oh, bloody hell."

"You're precious, okay?" her mother said, revealing herself as the owner of the phone. The angle changed dramatically as the woman rose to her feet, and crossed over to get closer, "And that was really... looove-ly-"

"Oh, don't you start," Dad glared just a little above the camera, "I was just... oh, I don't know."

The camera shifted off him as her mother moved around behind him, showing the balcony doors for a moment before she resettled. She could hear her father sigh, and then the camera was flipped around to show the much younger faces of Mom and Dad. Her mother had her arms over Dad's shoulders, holding out the camera to include them both.

"C'mon, say hi to baby," Mom beamed from ear to ear and waved, "Hi baby!"

Dad gave a sigh, but then his eyebrows perked as he regarded the camera seriously, "We promise you won't be named Baby. Just about as bad as Apple."

"Or Destiny," Mom chimed in, seeming to share an inside joke that made Dad smile.

He helped tacked on, now grinning as well, "Or any absurd spellings of a regular name. Like Lilith, but with a y."

"Definitely not Lilith!"

"That's me all out. We'll workshop it," Dad looked down, returning to the same song he was playing, as the sound drifted up into the speakers. Mom giggled, outright giggled, as she turned her head to him.

"You prawn," she accused, and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. Exaggerated, he wrinkled his face in disgust, but unable to keep up the charade, he eventually smiled. Looking victorious, Mom turned back to the camera, nearly shouting, "Say bye to baby, Lucifer!"

"Bye to baby, Lucifer," he parroted, to her mother's immediate protest.

The video ended, cutting to black on a reflection of her face. She grimaced, turning away to rub at the middle of her brow with the heel of her palm. As her hand came down, she realized shamefully that she’d started to cry. Grumbling, she swiped at her eyes and cleaned her hand on the hem of her shirt. She heard the door open behind her, and she cursed under her breath. Despite rushing to make herself presentable, she wasn’t fast enough to hide her tears before her brother stepped around her.

“Oh, c’mon, bring it in. Hey,” Sam murmured gently, drawing her in. She tried to protest, but what came out was a mere sniffle as she tucked herself into his embrace. Her brother was a real pounce, but at the end of the day, she knew she could have this. There was nothing bad about a hug from her brother. He rubbed her back as she set her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes to enjoy the affection. 

But she opened them, and made eye contact with her father at the door - still as young and tall as the memory showed. Any other time, and perhaps he would have attempted a smile to comfort her, tried a joke (or five).

But she looked at him, and she knew that he was going to be quiet for a long, long time.

Her father was lost without her mother.

---

[lveifer-blog]

[lveifer-blog]

cellobowsandarrows:

Her name. He kept saying it, like an anchor, something real to cut through the noise and the memories. Something to grab hold of and cling to. Except she couldn’t get to it, couldn’t quite reach him until his hands landed on her shoulder. Truth be told she wasn’t listening to the words, she focused entirely on the fact he was there. That he was just there. Kate almost crumpled under his touch, sank back into the floor and leaned forwards towards him and almost collapsed onto him. The sob wracked her chest, grief was a powerful, horrible thing, Kate found herself wondering where all of this had come from, had there really been so much emotion caught up in her soul that she’d refused to let see the light of day for years? How could one human being possibly hold so much?

“He killed her…and I couldn’t stop it.” Even being beside her, she couldn’t have stopped it, there was nothing she could have done. There was absolutely nothing Kate could have done. She’d spent nights for years replaying the scene over and over in her mind, if only she had seen it coming, if only she had done something else, if only she could have stopped it all but the truth was Cassie had sealed her fate the moment she had defied God. The moment she’d attempted to undo the mechanics of the universe. Humans didn’t get to meddle in such celestial affairs without paying a price. Maybe the universe operated a one in one out policy like a nightclub on a Friday night?

“She was right beside me and I couldn’t…” sometimes things happened, there was no rhyme or reason to them, not that humanity would ever be able to figure out. She remembered the night they met so clearly, breaking into Avengers mansion because those little Young Avenger shits didn’t get to save the world without them; ‘Kate – I thought you left!’ ‘Not without you.’ Oh, the girls voice haunted her. “Dr Doom killed her and I…she meddled with time Lucifer, she reached into the time stream and pulled her father across it.” She messed with the plan.

There it was, the weight of her mistakes weighing down on her as a breath caught in her chest, oh, she could feel her heart breaking in her chest all over again. She knew her friends thought her cold sometimes, but she had to be, she had a team to hold together. They had a job to do. Peoples lives were literally on the line. Yet between it all, even after Cassie had died she’d kept their standing coffee date. Every Friday after school. Kate had picked up an iced coffee and gone to visit her grave. Every week until she’d left New York…and like many things in her life, never told a soul. “We could have saved her, we could have gone back, and I said no. I said no. I let her die. That was my choice, I either saved her or I saved the city and I…I just let her die.” Oh, what choice could she have made really?  

There was little to do but to catch her, his arms moving around her back (granted, a little awkwardly) and holding her. An exhale was pushed out of his lungs as she sobbed against him. He'd never seen Kate like this, and was left with an awful feeling of not knowing what he could do to help. So he held on, tried to sort through what she was telling him so he could understand.

But then he did. Time was a fickle thing, one dimension too large for mortal hands. Granted, he'd heard, even seen, mortals surpassing their dimensions, but that was with the aid of cosmic forces. Travelling through the Multiverse was one thing - but fiddling with the core eleven was a dangerous playtime. Even he, as cocksure as he was, knew better than to yank at a column that was holding up the whole building, at least not without something to replace it. But that was exactly what had happened, wasn't it? This Cassie for her father, that was the trade. It made sense. Awful, yes, but it made sense. Favours needed to be repaid, and you couldn't escape a universe's deal. No loophole was built in for something that could just take when the time came to collect.

So why did Kate cry? This wasn't her fault... This was only her friend they were talking about, after all.

Lucifer winced. Right. A little empathy goes a long way with humans. But he still couldn't sit and simply let her take the weight of that death. So he ducked his head, pressing a kiss into her hair before getting as close as he could to her ear.

"That's not on you. Kate, that's not on you. I mean, it's not like you shot her yourself. People die, but that's not your fault."

[lveifer-blog]

cellobowsandarrows:

Nothing he said made sense, nothing,  but she didn’t care, she loved hearing him talk, learning about his world and his life, about his brothers and sisters, about dimensions and things that she would never understand. She knew she couldn’t. Kate had stared into creation once, she had seen the mechanics of the universe but it didn’t mean she understood how any of it worked. Taking a deep breath she listened, almost nestled into him as the night air started to nip slightly, maybe it was just the fact that they had been still for so long, though she thought if she curled up tight enough to him she’d be able to steal some warmth. For a moment she wondered if he ever felt cold? Did it matter to him? After all it wasn’t as if he had ever complained about being cold - nevermind. Back to what they were discussing. 

She’d never heard that tone in his voice before, she’d never heard him talk about his family or his life before the fall with such joy before, like retelling a perfect memory. Kate shifted, pushing herself up so she could reach him, she her finger curl around that little piece of hair that always hung down. Kate wrapped it around her fingers, soft dark strands around her finger over and over as she listened. He was beautiful, as was his story, and if she could have, she would have listened to him talk about it forever. Though she was aware they didn’t have forever, but they did have tonight. 

His laugh pulled a smile from her, her eyes lifted up to the sky as she followed his directions, “Orion’s Belt?” She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face, so that was their real origin then? “Alnilam A is the brightest O class star visible from earth, apparently…one hundred thousand times brighter than our sun…” well she had a different view of it, she’s been taught this as science not as if someone had placed them up above their heads. “We thought they were just three stars for a long time, until telescopes looked up and realise that they were all star systems…” Binary stars and nebula, what looked like a single point of light to them were so much more complex. 

Reaching up and tracing the constellation she smiled to herself, “Betelgeuse. Brightest red super giant in the night sky, they say it was ejected from its birthplace in the Orion Nebula….it’s still moving through the space so fast it leaves a shock wave that stretches several light years across…they say it’s going to explode into a supernova at any moment. Could be in a few minutes, could be in a million years, they don’t know yet.” Truth be told, there were a lot of humans waiting for it to happen. As if they would have a front row seat to one of the universes most elusive wonders. “It’s close enough you would be able to see it in the middle of the day.” For a week or so before it died away into obscurity and the constellation was changed forever. In its place would be the gas cloud remnants holding the potential for another to be born. “Well…if we get to see it in our life time it went hundreds of years ago..its like six hundred light years away…”

Taking a beep breath felt his hair around her fingers, gentle caressing touches through his hair before  she kissed his cheek, “I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you.” Oh, she hadn’t thought about how that sounded had she? “I mean I…when I met you it was like…I woke up. Like it was the first day of my life.” That was horribly cliched wasn’t it? It was. “Everything changed and I….I can’t imagine having to spend the rest of my life as the person I before then,” there was a near laugh from her. “You know…i once told my friend that life was easier if you never cared for anyone, or if you…that I would never love anyone. Sometimes being wrong isn’t such a bad thing.”

He positively beamed when the punchline of his story hit her. His chest swelled with pride - pride for his worn, pride that she knew the story, in her own way. That was the thing about humans that he'd never seen coming. They adored the sky. Despite all differences, despite their wars, they would all look up in wonder, futile hopes of reaching out to touch the stars. The humans gave them names, like children they could claim as theirs. Väinämöinen, Hapj, Shen Xiu. His brothers and sisters were painted in their patterns, all their infinite forms - even his infinite forms. All the legends about him were mapped in the constellations. Her meaning was different, but Kate's words suddenly reared in his mind. You are my constellations. There was little he could say to that, but he was beginning to feel the weight of it. What must it be like for his stars to look down on the Earth they filled with light? To see the humans - never to speak to, never to hold? To see the love bestowed upon them but never able to return it?

He'd rarely thought it of himself, perhaps not at all in all his years, but he couldn't help but think about how unbelievably lucky he was to have Kate in his arms, to feel her smile in his direction. He was the one piece of the universe that was allowed to reach out - the courier of the stars, having held firestorms and infinte explosions in the cradle of his palms... all in preparation to be something that could hold someone as strong and relentless as Kate Bishop. Still, she chose him - loved his canvas and taught herself its secrets - reached out in return and chose him as her own.

I'm glad I didn't die before I met you.

Tilting his head, he regarded her. He'd never quite looked at Kate as young, but he wasn't a total imbecile to completely disregard it. Humans were like flies - moreso than they liked to acknowledge. So fleeting in the stretch of time, much less the dimensions that they were simply too small to comprehend as their matter's structure. Death was supposed to be taboo, despite understanding the afterlife that awaited their souls. They were timeless in the sense that their interaction with time was brief - afterwards, they were suspended in their judgement, punishment or reward, for all eternity. It frightened them, to be released into the universe untethered to its dimensions. And yet here Kate was, presenting her inevitable completely laissez faire.

It frightened him, he realized, to think of a static Kate drifting into infinity. Unchanging - her soul simply bouncing off any object it found, as opposed to rushing to it and crushing its shape into what she could make of it - reaching in and finding goodness, ripping it out into the open. An unbound soul would never fight, would never change the universe, and it frightened Lucifer to think of Kate like that.

"I'm glad I did die," he murmured in return. After all, how else could he have gotten here? Crippled from his fall from Heaven, his shape twisted by an impact that no one, not even a celestial being, could surely survive? It brought him to a place where Earth could become a refuge. But perhaps the sentiment wouldn't be understood. Despite opening himself up as much as he had to Kate, there was a lot that'd gone unmentioned - simply due to the fact that there was a lot to be mentioned. Death would always be different for the two of them. But he didn't want to spend their precious time on exposition. So he nudged himself into her space, his nose bumping against her temple for a moment before lining up with hers.

"Before, I thought much the same... but that I couldn't love, therefore I wouldn't be," A small little huff came from his nose, and for a moment his eyes brightened, like light had been shone right into them. Black melted to lighter browns in his irises - and for a moment, twisting into red. For a moment, flickers of truth came through a glamour that felt unneeded around her, all without his apparent awareness. He smiled, and admitted, "We were both a little wrong, weren't we? I am lucky to be with you, Kate."