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@damagedsmile
FANCY PINNED POST FOR MOBILE USERS
Click here for my shitty diy CARRD.
🚨 n/sft themes present on this blog. Minors block my tag abitoftheoldinout & look no further. Personals dni 🚨
Transcribed by MⒶx aka damagedmun. Also found over on @oblivionlotus
I just want the simpler things, you know
I think I just want a boat
And I wanna fuck it up too
But that's why I think I'll have two
//friendly reminder to personal (non-roleplay) blogs to please not reblog starter calls, threads, drabbles, or character-specific headcanons from me. I appreciate the support but please just hit the heart on a post if you like it. I don't want my content being shared by personal blogs when that content is exclusively for the roleplaying community. Please respect my wishes. I will politely ask blogs that go against my wishes to remove anything they reblog from me but if you refuse, I will have to block you for my own sanity. Thank you!
“ᴜɴʟᴇss ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴇsʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ʜɪs ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ,
ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏ ʟɪғᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ.”
ⓒ
@katarinawilliams liked x for a Morning Star starter
Business was booming, a steady flock of damned souls came in by the hour to Tartarus, but this wasn't necessarily a cheerful thing for Lucifer. For one thing, the overcrowding population of His realm was chronic - they constantly needed to dig and create more room to contain the hordes of souls and the demons, more supplies needed to be made in order to keep up with His growing armies, and therefore more Ghouls needed to be bred for the mines. For another, the burden of Lucifer's duty - the REAL duty He kept secret - grew increasingly heavier.
Yet He could not stand in the way of progress. There were laws even He must abide by. So it was with silent contempt He made sure the wheel of INDUSTRY kept turning.
His demon brethren worked hard, sending more souls His way from Earth, and to keep morale high, Lucifer sometimes personally congratulated and thanked His demons. Such as now.
In His volcanite and marble receiving room, He met with Her, the one who borrowed the Earth name Katarina. Only a few rogue guards and Adramelech were in attendance.
He smiled once all pleasantries were out of the way, inviting Her to sit with Him. "I understand you've been one of our most efficient workers for several decades," He noted with appreciation. "You specialise in temptation of the mortals above, yes?"
@thejestersiren liked x
The mad ones are always such fun, they’re so uninhibited and completely free of guilt. They’re also the closest beings to Lucifer’s personal ideals: untroubled by the laws of Man and Him Upstairs, unrepentant, and dripping with FREE WILL. The very thing which Him Upstairs despises.
Besides their commendable lifestyle, the mad ones smell delicious. Their sins are ripe and moist, like fresh fruit straight from the vine. And they are sometimes very willing to amuse Him and add to their sins. Sometimes they just need a little push.
“Darling, that dress is unflattering,” He said as she walked by. Before the insult had time to settle, he freely added, “There’s a dress in that store window which would look better on you.” He pointed with a bony finger.
“I doubt you could afford it though. Shame, really.”
In turn, He gave an unimpressed sigh at her mockery. It wasn't her disbelief that rubbed Him the wrong way, it was how she insinuated He was AFRAID.
He had seen Him Upstairs in the throes of rage. He had seen what He, in His temper tantrums, did to those who disobeyed. He had experienced it firsthand. Afraid? No. Just rightfully cautious.
"That name belongs to a narcissistic tyrant!" He spits ruefully. "I do not fear one who needs constant validation to feel in control."
Planet, dimension... the words sounded so small in her voice. She couldn't conceive of how vast and complicated it all was. And speaking of complicated, her name was odd to Him. He took a moment to silently mouth the name, getting the pronunciation right.
"Harley Quinn," He finally said, slow and steady. "You may call me - " He thinks of all His aliases. " - Nick. Nick from another dimension. One that isn't very far from this one."
He notices she's looking at her shoulder again. "Do you wanna see a trick? Look at yourself in the mirror," He whispers.
@stcr liked x for a Morning Star starter
He liked visiting lounges in the evenings, soaking up the atmosphere and the occasional scent of a sinner while He sipped at a cool drink (absinthe if it was available, wine if not) and listened to the night’s entertainment. If the entertainment was dull, He’d fall asleep and not be quiet about it at all. Fortunately tonight’s show had been engaging.
A beautiful woman singing with all her heart and soul, her skin and dress shimmering in the spotlight. Some of her songs were about love, and though she sang well, it felt like there was a sadness in her. Lucifer could not put His finger on it exactly but something was missing. Something that sparked His curiosity.
Usually when something was missing, people considered it just an absence; Lucifer knew that missing things left empty spaces behind, but He knew too that too much emptiness could FILL up a space an become a presence of it’s own.
It didn’t take long for her face to appear once more following her performance. Now that she was off stage, shyly gliding past tables and any compliments given, she did not shimmer… yet she still BURNED.
He followed her to the bar, silently inserting Himself beside her. “I have to ask: do you write all your songs, darling?” he inquired, wasting no time. “You sing them like… a siren.” Like an Angel, another may have said.
Touchy, touchy. What have we here?
What He had here was a woman who had never been in love, who blushes as she admits it. He was amused by her babbling up until the point it became clear He was frightening her away. Or was it the idea of love that was so frightening?
He quickly realised His honesty had crushed her and stolen away the cheeriness she initially had. He could feel the barman scowling behind Him. He would have to be more careful, kinder in His opinion if He hoped to solve this mystery.
How should he be then? The answer came directly from memory. She is Eve, the fruit is love, and I... well, I have not changed.
"Forgive me, please. I've let my passion make a beast of me," He says solemnly. He had all but a few seconds to change her mind. "I didn't mean to hurt you, especially since I DID enjoy your show. I wouldn't have stayed awake through it if I didn't." He sighs. "I'm sure your friend can attest to that," He adds with a gesture towards the barman.
Maybe He imagines it but though she's turned away, He's sure He hears her tongue at her lip again. The tiny wet sound is as loud as a drill to Him, sending a shiver through Him.
One last attempt.
He lowers His voice and confesses, "I've never been in love either." He is unashamed by this but it clearly isn't something He is proud of either. He says the words the way someone says they don't know how to swim - as though they wish they could and would love to learn.
@stcr liked x for a Morning Star starter
He liked visiting lounges in the evenings, soaking up the atmosphere and the occasional scent of a sinner while He sipped at a cool drink (absinthe if it was available, wine if not) and listened to the night’s entertainment. If the entertainment was dull, He’d fall asleep and not be quiet about it at all. Fortunately tonight’s show had been engaging.
A beautiful woman singing with all her heart and soul, her skin and dress shimmering in the spotlight. Some of her songs were about love, and though she sang well, it felt like there was a sadness in her. Lucifer could not put His finger on it exactly but something was missing. Something that sparked His curiosity.
Usually when something was missing, people considered it just an absence; Lucifer knew that missing things left empty spaces behind, but He knew too that too much emptiness could FILL up a space an become a presence of it’s own.
It didn’t take long for her face to appear once more following her performance. Now that she was off stage, shyly gliding past tables and any compliments given, she did not shimmer... yet she still BURNED.
He followed her to the bar, silently inserting Himself beside her. “I have to ask: do you write all your songs, darling?” he inquired, wasting no time. “You sing them like... a siren.” Like an Angel, another may have said.
Curiouser and curiouser! She’s humble and sweet, seemingly totally unaware of her talent, and very down-to-earth, if her clothing is to be considered an indication of character. He had imagined her differently but was pleasantly surprised by her.
“I see... that’s a pity,” He muses, wondering if she kept notebooks filled up with lyrics, just waiting for the day when she was permitted to sing what she wanted and fill the room with her dreams, tragedies, and memories. Wondering if in time the little sliver of discontent at her management’s control would grow, become bitter, and fracture her ambitions.
He watches how she blushes, and when her tongue moistens her lips, He wonders how she tastes. She doesn’t strike Him as a sinner of any magnitude, but He lets Himself think about that. Raspberries and cream, He decides. He smirks. Does she know the affect such an action has?
“Maybe that’s why there was a lil’ something lacking in your performance,” He teases. “Don’t mistake me,” He explains, “I think you can sing and sing well, but... how do I put this?” He leans against the bar, humming for a moment.
He shrugs. “The love songs, darling, they felt... empty. I felt your golden lil’ heart as you sang, as though you held open your rib cage for all the world to see. But the love songs had no heart.” He studies her, trying to figure her out. His mouth twists up as He considers. “Have you ever been in love?” He asks in a whisper.
“...and so I told him I was an only child,” finished Lucifer.
“Wishful thinking, Sire?” asked Adramalech.
--- overheard in Pandæmonium
There are those who consider Lucifer and Satan to be the same being or at the very least two sides of the same being. This is false. Satan is the name of Lucifer’s younger brother and His current Heir. Satan was second-in-command in Lucifer’s Rebellion against God. Because of Satan’s rage, He transformed into a hideous dragon to fight in the Rebellion, and thus His prime sin was WRATH.
The brothers rarely get along when not conspiring on some chaotic plan and so do not speak to one another much. To capitalize on their inability to be near each other, Lucifer made Satan His Vassal on Earth, so Satan is rarely at home.
In fact, it is said by the servants in the palace that whenever Satan does come home, He will only stay long enough to have a private feast then an orgy and then mess the place up as much as possible so to piss Lucifer off.
@stcr liked x for a Morning Star starter
He liked visiting lounges in the evenings, soaking up the atmosphere and the occasional scent of a sinner while He sipped at a cool drink (absinthe if it was available, wine if not) and listened to the night’s entertainment. If the entertainment was dull, He’d fall asleep and not be quiet about it at all. Fortunately tonight’s show had been engaging.
A beautiful woman singing with all her heart and soul, her skin and dress shimmering in the spotlight. Some of her songs were about love, and though she sang well, it felt like there was a sadness in her. Lucifer could not put His finger on it exactly but something was missing. Something that sparked His curiosity.
Usually when something was missing, people considered it just an absence; Lucifer knew that missing things left empty spaces behind, but He knew too that too much emptiness could FILL up a space an become a presence of it’s own.
It didn’t take long for her face to appear once more following her performance. Now that she was off stage, shyly gliding past tables and any compliments given, she did not shimmer... yet she still BURNED.
He followed her to the bar, silently inserting Himself beside her. “I have to ask: do you write all your songs, darling?” he inquired, wasting no time. “You sing them like... a siren.” Like an Angel, another may have said.
@veiltaken like x for a Morning Star starter
It is often said that having no proof of the Devil suits Lucifer’s intentions - the less people believe in Him, the more chaos He can wreak. How often had His legion of Demons possessed and reaped a helpless soul for Him, their work made easier by those who doubt. Doubt was His tool, His ally.
But to have proof of Him Upstairs and His martyred Son... that did not sit well with Lucifer. Such proof had the value of at least a hundred million souls: and a hundred million souls either converting or feeling their Faith renewed was bad for business. Never mind the fact that with this proof, there were bound to be inquiries as to the existence of Hell and Himself. The attention was unwanted.
“Oh, you self-righteous liar,” Lucifer breathed, pale eyes turning upwards to the sky above. “You can say this was not a part of Your Great Plan but I know better. I of all know best the tricks you play and the lies you tell.” A sardonic smirk at the grey wisps of clouds above as Lucifer tutted, shaking His head.
With that, He strode into the lobby of the hotel, sitting down to wait. He would soon see the one who currently had the Shroud in Her possession and approach her. He closed his eyes serenely, His voice reaching out to her mind.
Come to me. Come down to the lobby. We have much to discuss, you and I.
He stared freely at the one He had waited for, even when she turned her head to regard Him. His eyes never faltered, drinking her in while the ghost of a smirk played at the corners of His mouth. He was quite drawn to her eyes. Of course He’d seen brown eyes before now, but somehow hers were as deep as the abyss He called home. Bottomless actually. The mark of one who had witnessed something Divine.
His eyes then swept over the other woman. She dripped with GREED. He could forgive her that, of course, particularly given her shade of hair. His own had once been that exact color. Now only His roots remained so, albeit a little darker.
Correct, His mind answered, reaching out to Dora’s mind again. You don’t know me, yet. Would you like to? Simply nod to me if you would. Give me a nod and send that woman away. Then you can know me.
Would she hear Him? Or was she shielded from Him? He hoped not.
Given Lucifer’s preferred masculine guise (see here for description), He’s not oblivious to how strange or scary He may appear. Yet since He’s very STUBBORN, He will not change it. Instead He uses a very simple charm to get around the issue.
Humans are particularly adapt at only seeing what they want to see. They’re also very good at convincing themselves that something unlikely is therefore not real. They could witness a miracle and, because the likelihood of miracles happening is mostly considered impossible, they will deny what they saw and instead remember what happened in a way that makes sense to their logic.
There exists a blind spot in the mind of every human; it also acts as a black hole to swallow the memory of strange events. Thus, when a human directly looks at Lucifer, they may see Him as He is for a split moment - but then what they see will change into something they understand, i.e a regular adult man. Lucifer essentially reflects their own values back at them and “shields” his appearance.
He will let His actual masculine guise be seen when He chooses to whomever He chooses.
For easy reference, while “shielding” Himself from onlookers, He appears to look like Jared from The Outsider. (tysm to beej for asking the question <3)
When people think of Hell, they imagine the air is full of screaming souls and fire. Depending on whereabouts you go exactly, there is plenty of fire and smoke and tormented screaming, but Pandæmonium is actually more full of the noises of industry.
Loud metallic screeching, creaking, banging, and clanging fill the air constantly in a mechanical rhythm. The factories are always in operation and the air is full with black smoke and the smell of chemicals. All the machinery and hordes of workers are responsible for creating the stifling heat there in the city. They are continuously mining and building and forging, for the final war that is written to happen, for extending Hell so to fit the millions of souls coming in each day.
The day that the machines are turned off is the day of Revelation, the glorious beginning of the final war. Silence is the sound of The End.
When Lucifer is enraged, His voice changes. When He speaks in this state, His anger is audible, and there is a secondary voice coming from Him, whispering along with whatever He is saying: this secondary whisper is much deeper and more gravelly. It sounds utterly inhuman.
Occasionally if enraged or feeling playful, Lucifer may make a hissing noise. Though it’s indeed coming from His throat, it sounds very much like the hissing an alligator and crocodile make.
@thejestersiren liked x
The mad ones are always such fun, they’re so uninhibited and completely free of guilt. They’re also the closest beings to Lucifer’s personal ideals: untroubled by the laws of Man and Him Upstairs, unrepentant, and dripping with FREE WILL. The very thing which Him Upstairs despises.
Besides their commendable lifestyle, the mad ones smell delicious. Their sins are ripe and moist, like fresh fruit straight from the vine. And they are sometimes very willing to amuse Him and add to their sins. Sometimes they just need a little push.
“Darling, that dress is unflattering,” He said as she walked by. Before the insult had time to settle, he freely added, “There’s a dress in that store window which would look better on you.” He pointed with a bony finger.
“I doubt you could afford it though. Shame, really.”
There truly was nothing on her shoulder, no weight on the skin there to indicate an invisible presence... yet the voice was there, talking even now.
“SHUSH!” He hissed when she spoke the name of Him Upstairs. “Speak softly, and give that WORTHLESS name no more attention than it deserves.”
How interesting. A mad woman perfectly aware of her auditory hallucinations. Is she even mad then, Lucifer wondered. Perhaps madness is the wrong term to describe this one, perhaps she is just... SPECIAL.
Calming Himself again, Lucifer continued. “You’ll never see me, my darling, ‘til I want you to. What I am is a visitor. Should we exchange names? That would be polite, wouldn’t it? What is it you call yourself?”
Inspo for Luci creeping around whispering insidious suggestions in people’s ears
//mmkay I'll be on after I drag myself to the shop for fags, wish me luck. Hmu to talk any plots ya wanna do with Luci. Or shipping potential 👀
