ANGSTY TEXTS, BITCH
[text] You should have told me you wanted me out of your life.
[text] I should have never let you back into my life.
[text] Okay [muse’s name] what’s the deal, pretty sure this is you…listen if you want me to leave you alone, please just tell that.
[text] Please don’t walk away.
[text] Please don’t do this.
[text] When are you going to realize I want nothing to do with you?
[text] You want nothing to do with me, I get it.
[text] I’m an idiot. You fooled me again.
[text] When I think things are about to change … I’m always proven wrong.
[text] I just want you to be happy. And you’ll be happier without me.
[text] I just hate that someone could make me trust [him/her/them] the way that I did
[text] The truth is I’m not over you.
[text] The truth is I never really wanted to be with you.
[text] I’m seeing someone else.
[text] How the hell did you get my number, stalker?
[text] You’re so selfish.
[text] I just saw you leave with [her/him/them].
[text] FUCK YOU AND YOUR DUMB CUTE FACELOVING TEXTS, BITCH
[text] Did I tell you today that you’re the most adorable? Cause, yeah.
[text] Be careful.
[text] I’m only saying it because I love you.
[text] I’m only saying it because I care about you.
[text] Okay, I’m bringing coffee.
[text] I’m thinking dinner and a movie later this week?
[text] Let me take you out, please?
[text] Let me make you dinner tonight.
[text] I want you to be happy.
[text] You’re always safe with me.
[text] I can’t stop thinking about you.
[text] I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.
[text] I know you may not feel like you are, but you are loved. And important. Please don’t forget that.
[text] It was so good seeing you.
[text] You don’t need this shit.
[text] I’ll be there in five minutes.
[text] Let me help, please?
[text] You’re important to me.
[text] Stop falling asleep in the bathtub. You’re going to drown and die and leave me and I’m not having that.
[text] I would gladly watch Netflix and eat Thai with you any day.
[text] I’d give up my phone charger AND the last piece of gum for you. That’s love.
[text] Hey beautiful no judgment but why is there a bucket of KFC chicken in the bathtub??ANGRY TEXTS, BITCH
[text] If you don’t want me to bust your window, I suggest you answer the phone. Now.
[text] To quote Mean Girls, you’re a fugly slut.
[text] Are you SERIOUSLY bringing that up right now!?
[text] Lose my number, asshole.
[text] You’re so predictable and obnoxious. And it’s not only me who thinks so.
[text] …The least you could do is answer, wtf.
[text] You’re a piece of shit human being and an even worse friend.
[text] This is YOUR FAULT. And you can’t even pretend like it isn’t, because you know it is.
[text] Why couldn’t you just stay out of it?
[text] Holy fucking shit, take a hint, asshole.
[text] Go fuck yourself.
[text] What the fucking hell is wrong with you?
[text] You can take your stuff back as long as I don’t light it on fire first.
[text] I have cramps and a migraine so you do NOT want to mess with me right now
[text] Bye and have a very fuck you daySEXY TEXTS, BITCH
[text] Just let me suck your dick and be happy. Let me have this.
[text] Why are you so hot…like honestly, it’s not fair.
[text] Yeah, you looked good in your [dress/shirt/pants] last night but really, they looked way better on my floor.
[text] Come over. With condoms.
[text] You should come over, clothing optional.
[text] I feel like a nasty slut and I LOVE IT
[text] Sorry I got drunk and texted you about my sex life
[text] Sex on a rooftop - trashy or adventurous?
[text] If you’re not at my apartment, shirtless, in five minutes, I will be personally offended.
[text] I don’t think he likes that I’m always sending him pictures of me in my bra but he needs to get it together
[text] It’ll be like The Notebook, except with way more of my penis.
[text] I didn’t know that all of his brothers would be hot and musically inclined, too. That’s a dick move on behalf of biology.
[text] I DON’T WANT YOUR DICK. I WANT BRUNCH.
[text] So is it your turn now to pretend like dating someone else would stop us from fucking?
[text] I just need some of your time and all of your body.
[text] I am available for nakedness
[text] I think about [him/her/them] when I masturbate so I guess you could call it loveDRUNK TEXTS, BITCH
[drunk text] So wat are you really over me no w
[drunk text] AND I UNFOLLOWED YOU ON INSTAGRAM TOO, BITCH
[drunk text] You are my queen and my savior and I love you forever
[drunk text] You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known
[drunk text] I’m eating macaroni and cheese on a slice of pizza and autocorrect just wrote that text for me pretty much, what’s your night like
[drunk text] Listen up slut, you’re one hot piece of ass and if [he/she/they] doesn’t realize it, it’s their loss
[drunk text] but what’s the point of a Disney sing off party if you’re not here. You have to be be the Pumbaa to my Timon
[drunk text] Can you pls remind me tomorrow of how much of a fool I made myself tonight
[drunk text] FUCK YOU YOU’RE GORGEOUS
[drunk text] I think maybe you and me should like go out and eat pizza or something check yes or no
[drunk text] Please don’t hate me I’m too tired and too dizzy to be hated
[drunk text] I hate (him/her) but less when I’m drinking. Thanks, alcohol.
[drunk text] Omf g you need to get over here now I think I’m dyin
[drunk text] SWEEEEEEEET CAROLINE
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whambamthankyoubram posted this PORTRAYAL. Like it says in the description, this is a blog for the character Lucifer Morningstar from FOX’s LUCIFER with a feminine twist. This blog will be primarily based in the series with little to no influence from the source material the show was based off of. Sorry, but I’m a broke college student who’s too lazy/busy to try and find free versions of it online. I also find that I often prefer to incorporate my own headcanons and interpretation of the lore that exists anyway, so do not expect her to perfectly align with any one canon, especially the comics.
Though Lucifer loathes the human need to label everything and because, as a celestial being, her outward appearance is a manifestetion of sense-of-self and thought, if pressed, she would identify as trans given the widespread misconception of masculinity associated with her due to the word of God and a belief that He intended she be His second son and not His first daughter. As such, I plan to incorporate this idea in situations where Lucifer is not truly the devil, and as a human, Lucifer is a trans woman. Her faceclaim in these verses ( which I plan to utilize more often when this blog is more active ) will be Michelle Hendley. Though I do plan to continue using Mallory Janson to portray Lucifer as a celestial being, I am open to critique and discussion as I understand there are many issues with using a cis faceclaim to portray a trans character, however grey the term is when Lucifer is, indeed, the devil. My ideas for execution of this interpretation are by no means perfect, and there is some confusion for me given how I am approaching this change of portrayal. Please, bear with me and feel free to educate me on how I can improve what I am doing to help better the trans community, especially in the Tumblr RPC.
Something else that I feel I should note in here: I DO NOT CONSIDER AMENADIEL TO BE THE OLDEST. I do draw heavy inspiration for my portrayal of Luci from biblical lore, and thus in terms of creation Michael would be the oldest, Lucifer the second oldest, and so on and so forth. I do, however, see Amenadiel as the oldest of the angels, where Michael would be the oldest of the archangels, thus giving him ( in my view ) some pull as the oldest of a particular grouping.
ACTIVITY. My activity on this blog will be low and sporadic, mainly. Right now I'm juggling college and color/winter guard, so it'll be tricky to be on as much as I'd like to. I’ll do my best to build a queue that’ll run semi-frequently, but that’s very low priority for me at the moment. If you see me active and I owe you a reply, though, don’t hesitate to give me a little nudge. Sometimes my procrastinating ass needs one.
FORMATTING. With each new blog I make I adopt a new kind of formatting style. The one I use right now is one that I’m very happy with and probably will not be changing anytime soon. Please don’t feel obligated to match this. I’m not super picky about the aesthetics of my blog, and the only change I’ll make ( if ever ) is from normal text to small text. I personally DO NOT use the super small text but if that’s what you like to use it’s fine. I’ve got very little trouble reading it and it doesn’t inconvenience me. I will mirror-format ONLY in some cases and ONLY at the writer’s request.
STATUS. As of right now this blog is NOT mutuals only. ALL starter calls posted are open to ALL of my followers, regardless of mutual status. As a warning: if we are NOT mutuals and you like a starter call, I expect you to contact me via IM or ask with ideas on how our characters could interact. It doesn’t have to be anything major. It just makes the process of writing MUCH easier and makes me more likely to follow you in the long run.
SHIPPING. Lucifer is, as a general rule, a rather shameless flirt and very liberal in her sexual escapades. Your character is free to reciprocate/react however they would like, but try to keep in mind that part of the character mythos is that she is pretty much irresistible to anyone and everyone who would normally be attracted to her. If we can find a reason for your character to have some level of immunity to this in crossover situations that’s fine, but on the whole that won’t be something that should happen very often.
Please also note that romantic ships on this blog will not be frequent and will require quite a bit of development if they ever are to happen. I’m a ship whore, but chemistry is very important.
MEMES. I LOVE MEMES. If you want to send in the thing, please do. I will most definitely appreciate it, even if I take three billion years to respond. Memes are ALSO a great way to start RPs with no prior plotting or even prior interaction, so I do really encourage you to send them in! Meme me up, Scotty!
EXCLUSIVITY. As of right now, I am NOT muse exclusive with any blogs and have NO intentions of doing so in the near future. I will, however, consider practicing ship exclusivity in certain cases.
CREDITS. All icons were screencapped and edited by me. Please do not steal them. Current theme is courtesy of @nonaziharlot. History heavily inspired and modeled after @gcdgiven's original bio with permission. Please do not copy.
FINAL NOTES. Congratulations! You’ve finished this brick! I don’t do passwords or the like because they’re awkward to me, but I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. As I’ve said before, I’m always open to interaction and plotting so feel free to hit me up whenever! If we are mutuals you are also always free to ask for me Skype! Have a lovely day!
name: Lucifer Morningstar.
nicknames: Luci. Lu. Lulu. Luc. Lucy Ricardo.
aliases: The Devil. Satan. Prince(ss) of Darkness. King Queen of Hell. Abbadon. Belial. Old Scratch. Samael. The Light Bringer.
gender: Female.
date of birth: The Beginning™.
place of birth: The Center™.
age: Ageless.
orientation: Pansexual. Demiromantic.
education: —.
religion: Christianity. Pleasure.
height: 5'9".
weight: 132 lbs.
species: Archangel.
hair color: Brown.
eye color: Green.
scars: Twin ovals on her back from when she cut off her wings.
tattoos: —.
dominant hand: Right.
faceclaim: Mallory Jansen.
father: God.
mother: Mum.
brother(s): Michael. Gabriel. Raphael. Uriel. Amenadiel. etc.
sister(s): Azrael.
HONEST | TRUSTWORTHY | THOUGHTFUL | caring | BRAVE | patient | selfless | AMBITIOUS | tolerant | LUCKY | INTELLIGENT | CONFIDENT | FOCUSED | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | CLEVER | CHARMING | cheerful | optimistic | DECISIVE | ADAPTIVE | calm
MOODY | SHORT-TEMPERED | EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE | whiny | controlling | CONCEITED | possessive | paranoid | lies | IMPATIENT | cowardly | BITTER | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | JUDGEMENTAL | forgetful | IMPULSIVE | SPITEFUL | STUBBORN | sadistic | petty | unlucky
persuasion: The ability draw out people’s forbidden desires. The more simple the human, the easier it is. The more complex, the more challenging and interesting. Chloe Decker is immune to this for reasons beyond even Lucifer’s understanding.
super strength: Small, but full of fite™. Able to punch through walls, throw fully grown men across the room without a push, and hold her own against an angel ( presumably ) at full strength. Extended endurance ( /winks ) and super speed can also be assumed.
shapeshifting: All angels come readily equipped with the ability to create ( and also see through ) glamours at will. Generally this is used to hide their wings while on Earth or ( in ye olde days ) to fuck with the humans when visiting them for a laugh ( looking at you, Gabriel ), but Lucifer frequently uses this ability to give humans a glimpse of her hellish form and what awaits in the deepest pits of hell.
immortality: Unable to die by normal, mortal means. Exceptions to the rule are demon blades, other angels, and Chloe Decker’s presence. She makes her vulnerable.
flight: With wings, she can fly ( and so much MORE ). Without them, she is grounded.
Sometimes — not often, but sometimes —
there are those who prefer to deal in favors of knowledge than favors of
pleasure or gain. Lucifer rarely indulged in them ( even just a fraction of an inkling of pure, unfiltered knowledge of the universe is enough to turn the average human brain into mush, and wasn’t that just such a WASTE? ), but sometimes...sometimes she got bored. Sometimes, when faced with the oh-so-common and oh-so-boring question — how did it all begin? — she’d smile coyly and, instead of the standard, polite refusal, lean in close and whisper conspiratorially...
You humans already got that bit right.
THE BIG BANG. An apt ( if slightly disturbing ) name for the actions of her parents in creating the universe. To think, all it had taken was one truly stellar orgasm between a couple of celestial beings to spark the whole of Creation. Generally, the story stopped there: complete and irritatingly unfinished at the same time. She’d learned her lesson in telling the rest on a cold night in Bethany — a final plea to a dead man walking.
When she did tell it, it went a bit like this...
ONCE, there was a father who wasn’t a Father yet, and a mother who wasn’t a Mother yet, and they fell in love. From their love came Creation, and following Creation came children — a whole Host of children, all of whom were brilliant and passionate and...AND.
While Mother and Father consummated their love, further expanding the universe, the Host amused themselves, forming bonds and cultivating talents. The core bond, consisting of the first five to be borne, later came to be known as the archangels — each exalted for their individual talents. Michael, the sword, strongest and bravest of the Host; Samael, the light, heart and soul of the Host; Raphael, the cross, healer of all ills; Gabriel, the voice, brilliant composer and beautiful singer; and Uriel, the brain, lover, creator, and solver of patterns simple and complex.
For a time, everyone was happy. When Father said let there be light and lit up the gaseous expanse of the universe, one of the Host, Samael, stared on and, with all the wonder and insistence and innocence of a small child, tugged on Father’s metaphorical sleeve and asked — no, begged — for more. Because she was His light, He indulged in her request. With a wave of his hand, the light-bearing mist collided, burning and brightening and forming brilliant new STARS.
take care of them, little one. Father said, gently pushing her to the newly formed cluster. Like Mother and Father had done before her Samael gathered the stars, grace pulsing with love as she carried them out among the cosmos, placing them into constellations and galaxies in representations of her brothers back home. She watched with joy as they grew into their power, growing and consuming and expanding out further into the universe her parents had created, each partitioning their own portion of the remaining expanse and pulling it towards them, never dying while she was around to pull them back from the brink.
In their gratitude, they’d given her the name Morningstar, for night never came when she was there. It was a name she’d forever cherish.
Eventually, (
seven days ) millions or billions of years from when she had been charged with her task, Samael was called back home. Much had changed in the time she’d been living among the stars. Her family had grown, including one more sister in a sea of new brothers and...humans.
They were curious little creatures. Young, certainly, in comparison to the angels and certainly the archangels. Dirty. If Samael looked closely she could see bits of the clay Father had modeled them from peeking out. Most of all, they were favored.
Samael watched with her sister and brothers as Father gave them gifts He’d never dared to give to the Host: a home orbiting the first star she’d ever placed — a beautiful young thing named Sol; the garden, home to a tree bearing fruit containing pieces from before Creation; and a destiny headed towards greatness, meant to somehow make what was already perfection better. For the first time in the whole of her existence, Samael felt envy.
When Father asked demanded humans receive the protection of the Host as well, Samael grit her teeth and obeyed as her siblings did. Even if they couldn’t make things better, even if she didn’t particularly like or even know them...they were family.
The tale wouldn’t end there, merely pause. The devil didn’t need to stretch her legs, but her audience did. So, what do you say, beardy? Are you ready for more? His placid smile set her on edge, but she smirked through it. If she was going to save him she’d need to continue.
Right. Carrying on.
So Samael obeyed, bitterness held at bay by the fond whispers of the stars ( O’! Bright and Glorious Morningstar! ) and the firmly held belief that she was still His favorite, no matter how much He doted on the youngest siblings. Days became weeks became months became years as she watched over Father’s pet project like the rest of the Host, confusion ( and perhaps — in much, much later hindsight — a certain fondness ) growing as she watched the two stumble along the garden.
Are we not just as worthy, if not more, of these gifts Father has given them? she’d asked her siblings, some nodding in more awe than agreement at their older and beloved sister while others ( MOST ) grit their teeth as she had.
It is not our place to question Father. Only to obey. Why? He is the Creator. He is not the only one. We have created just as much as He has. Why should we devote our existence to His creations and not ours as well? Do not press. Do not think. Simply do.
Despite ( or perhaps, in spite of ) her siblings’ insistence, Samael thought and thought. Angels were divine, just as Mother and Father were, so their creations were just as pure. Humans, though, were too far removed from divinity to hope to create anything but adequate in comparison. They couldn’t possibly make Father’s creations better. So, Samael went to confront her father — remaining family witness to the slaughter.
The fight lasted...it lasted a while. Time seemed to blur amid the shouting match that followed, but she was sure it was years, decades even, before it ended, and oh...oh, how it had ended. THE STARS HAVE TAUGHT YOU TO BURN TOO HOT, LITTLE ONE. Samael, burning with the shame of her Father’s scolding, lunged forward, hands clenched and tensed for...for...something.
And Michael — strongest, bravest, and obedient eldest brother that he was — stepped between them, sword at hand. It didn’t burn at first, not until it reached Samael’s star-touched grace. Where sword met, soul blackened, tearing and cauterizing and chasing away the brightness that had once defined her very existence. Without that...she fell.
Despite reaching hands, despite begging eyes, not one brother or sister stepped forward to save her. Down, down the Bringer of Light went, landing in smoke and fire in a crater in Eden, fallen to one of the lowest planes of existence. In her grief, homesickness, and perhaps still in rebellion she burrowed herself even further, hiding away from the light of the stars she was no longer permitted to visit.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
Silence would follow, polluting the air for several minutes. Even millennia later, the wounds of her punishment were still fresh. Are you still prepared to die for Him? For this pointless cause? she’d asked eventually, demeanor somber, not smug. The serene quiet that followed felt like Michael’s stoic, unflinching betrayal.
BROTHERS.
Her eyes were cold as steel as she left the bare cottage, leaving the pious man to his fate. One day they would learn that nothing good came of being Father’s favorite and find no sympathy on her part.