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ducktastic-dad · 13 hours ago

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falling into a familiar pattern, this week becomes a row of days where alastor grows only somewhat absent in the king's life. not a jarring shift from the usual by any means, unlike the last time it happened, now taking the form of sporadic “ walks out ” and “ errands ” that ring through lucifer's mind like little alarm bells. he hasn't done anything to cause this distance, he thinks, nothing he can specifically put his finger on ━ but it is a song and dance they have done before, always the prelude to something significant that lucifer is never properly ready to face. starting small, creases that he notices form in the radio demon's expression when they are alone, a festering sense of concern, and next thing he knows there becomes less and less of their presence alongside him, even when they are sitting right there.

from that grows an anxiety which branches out into dozens of possibilities ; was it something he did ? he said ? or maybe alastor is just coincidentally busy ? but it is hardly ever a coincidence. alastor always makes time, ( frequent enough lately that he has come to expect it, ) making the chances of it being mere coincidence slimmer. so maybe it has something to do with the holiday coming up ? it wouldn't be so strange if they were just shopping, but why not invite him along for some of it then ? is he being avoided for some other reason ? . . . ━ the usual thoughts running unbidden. he would not have so much time to think if alastor did not give him the room, but he supposes there is a chance that he might be worrying over nothing at all. it has happened before.

---

unlike last time, he has not allowed himself to fall into the habit of doing nothing while he waits ; far too easy a way to waste time when something as big as sinsmas is around the corner. the devil is easily making himself useful, picking up the laborious job of trying to deck the halls within every inch of the hotel. and on top of those decorations he can layer additional touches, when he is not working to hand-make the majority of his gifts. something special for charlie, comparatively mundane gifts for the other tenants, and for alastor ━ well it's not easy to outdo that radio sitting upon his nightstand. there was an attempt made with the phone lucifer had ordered, but it is not nearly the same as the intricate work and personal connection that went into the present lucifer had received. he can do better. knows he can. that is what he tells himself, an ample enough distraction to pour his passion into.

the devil sits in his room, contemplating. what alastor likes he begins to run down the mental checklist of : radios are. . . obvious. too on the nose, they have so many already, and lucifer does not have nearly enough expertise to make one from scratch. maybe he should make one of those funky little furry creatures instead ━ what the hell are they called ? fur. . . babies ? fur. . . he can't seem to remember. . . no, that is an idea to save for a rainy day, this has to be something special ! a piano ? . . . there's no way he can learn how to make a grand piano in three days. ( hopeless ! doomed ! ) the devil stops to rub at his temples, and sink into the comfort of his memory foam mattress with a groan. there is one thing that comes to mind, something especially reserved for those lucifer holds dear, though it is typically saved for family. all things considered though, alastor may as well be. ( they are both fathers to charlie, as he recalls confirming, among other. . . considerations. ) an incomplete blueprint piecing together, invisible against the stripey dome of his ceiling. there is no need to call for the piece of him that is missing, it knows, its golden flare whipping down the hall and wiggling beneath the crack under his door. this particular creation was not meant to last so long, a temporary distraction to soothe alastor's shadowy counterpart, but seeing the joy it brought made him think twice ; ever the hopeless romantic. he beckons, and it obeys.

❝ find me a living specimen. ❞

ominous, perhaps, if one does not understand. blackened fingertips snap, breathing life into the existence of a sparkling ring that hangs and expands within the air. the force of its continuous spin throws near-identical glitter, feather-light falling stars, next to the animate gold of his mirror image. within the spinning circle is a familiar place ; the louisiana marshes, an area he knows the man he's shopping for is intimately familiar with. there is no better place to pry an example from. through the portal his doppelganger goes, and with it lucifer's will. finding the proper materials will keep him engaged in the meantime.

---

days pass, and eventually lucifer's patience is rewarded. a note, lain at the radio demon's tower door, where the devil was intending to spend his time invading their own. is he that predictable now ? not that he is one to complain when given an opportunity. a time and a place, giving him a specific window of what he can do before now and then ; his interpretation is that it must be some sort of “ informal date, ” the kind that just barely classifies as what it is, the kind they seem to prefer though neither lucifer nor alastor ever acknowledge putting a label to it aloud. maybe it isn't so definable. but he will treat it like any other, and for the occasion he will dress.

then, a more devious thought. a remedy for his lack of attention, perhaps, if he can find something to appeal to alastor's interests. what those would be, outside of his more revealing garments ━ it's a good thing he has the time to try and piece something together. all the extravagance of an outfit one would think royalty might don in private ; lace and mesh hold together the open heart-shape back of his shirt, allowing the slits trailing down his porcelain skin to breathe. what the lace does not cover over his chest is somewhat sheltered by the decorative shrug overtop, and tucked by the hem beneath the vibrancy of his suit pants. bright whites blending with the pale tones of neutrals, there to emphasize the striking red layer within wings that stretch out in feathery masses. maybe he'll leave his crown this time. . . since the hat is apparently so ridiculous. good enough, he figures, and checks the time ━ late. it is already a minute or two past, and so lucifer fumbles all-too clumsily out of his room, entering the hallway with a light jog. he then spots the shared balcony, a perfect shortcut to head out onto and allow himself to use these wings for more than a fashion statement. all six flap with some sense of urgency in their takeoff, though approaching the roof ( which is hardly that far above ) he allows himself to ease into a more graceful ascent. the heels of his knee-high boots tap against solid ground with his announcement,

❝ you've picked quite the spot ! ❞

how late ━ two minutes ? maybe three ? not bad. not enough for a scolding, surely. both arms tuck to fold comfortably behind his back, brushing beneath the soft plush of feathers and resting over the lowest set of wings.

❝ not plotting to throw me off the roof, are you ? ❞

@ducktastic-dad CHRISTMAS GIFT ASKS.

[ PART THREE. ]

It takes all of his gumption to finally prepare for the act. He looks at himself in the mirror, the curls of his hair steadily put into place as he recalls the note he left Lucifer outside of his tower not two hours before: to meet him up on the hotel roof at a specific time in the evening - where he will be.

The small box - fashioned in red velvet with a golden interior - is opened to briefly check that the ring remains nestled within. He admits the jeweler's craft is well done - and he had rewarded the man after the fact. Satisfied with its make and its gleam in the light, Alastor returns the box into the inner pocket of his coat before leaving his room.

His nerves have been threatening to rattle him all day. But he will not turn back now, venturing up the stairwells until he steps out onto the roof in the cool, night air.

Alastor takes in a breath and releases it as he approaches the edge, glancing out and down the hilltop where the hotel sits to view the remainder of the city, its towering buildings filling the horizon with light and distant sound.

Now all he has to cling to is patience, praying that it is only Lucifer that finds him up here and no one else as he steels his hands to keep the anxiety from making them tremor.

This will change everything.

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#radioiaci #━━ ♔ my strawberry moon. ┊ ⌜ radioiaci. ⌟#long post .#okay YOU can have ur reply now .#had to get some of the yappage out . i fear its terminal

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ducktastic-dad · 19 hours ago

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@ducktastic-dad CHRISTMAS GIFT ASKS.

[ PART TWO. ]

Make. Material. Color. Stones? Shape? There are so many factor to consider when thinking about the construction of a ring - and one that is meant to be suitable enough for the Devil, at that. This cannot be some garden variety band. It cannot be haphazard and materialistic. It has to be intentional. Special. Sincere. And that means there are immeasurable pitfalls he can run into, lost amid the calculations in his mind as he stares with rigid focus down at the glass case before him without even really seeing what is within them. Everything for sale here seems so... paltry, so surface-level. These are decorations meant for Sinners.

Lucifer is no Sinner.

He has surpassed only one step in the process - and that was to obtain Lucifer's ring finger size: a true feat of accomplishment in and of itself. He could not ask Charlie, for fear of her finding out before it was time to reveal anything. He certainly did not trust anyone else within the hotel to keep their mouths shut and to spare him the rigmarole of congratulations and gleeful exclamations that undoubtedly would follow. Either that or shock and surprise that they have been cavorting about in secret all this time after all. He cannot handle that - not with his nerves already striking him at every moment of the day. And so the task fell to the only one he did trust with it:

Niffty.

She had been just erratic and wild enough to flit about one day in her curiously manic way to take Lucifer's hand and investigate it, coming up with some excuse or other as to what she could or could not add to her 'collection'. Lucifer's awkward, but polite demeanor made it a simple thing for her to remain until she could glean the appropriate sizing - good at eyeballing those things - and with giggling glee, she left him be as soon as she had whirled into his proximity. Alastor had kept an eye on the exchange from the shadows, pleased and rather impressed as to her acting skills - until she seemed to express interest in 'keeping his Majesty's severed finger' if that was what Alastor intended to do.

Not quite - but he gave her a pat on the head and sent her on her way for her efforts, regardless.

But now he struggled with the actual making of the thing. His first thought had been to seek out Rosie's advice - but how is he to expect himself to properly replace the role of a woman in Lucifer's life if he cannot even make these decisions without the influence of one? Stubbornly, he refused, and that is why he lingers in this jewelry shop, looking on in frustration and finding nothing of note that he believes to be worthy of Lucifer's hand.

Eventually, he realizes, with the shopkeeper rattled in his boots and waiting for him to patiently decide, that none of these shoddy pieces are worthy. He holds back a growl and turns his attention upwards; sharp in his addressing of the man behind the counter.

"Don't you have anything better than this?" He demands, ears pinning themselves back and against his hair as his antlers sharpen slightly in response to his agitation.

' W-well, we do custom-makes... but... but it takes some time. And with Sinsmas coming up, it's... likely going to take longer than... '

"I don't care," Alastor replies harshly, a buzz of interference emanating from him which clearly speaks to his displeasure at being told that he cannot have what he wants first and foremost. He is the radio demon. And he is a priority. (Entitled behavior, he knows, but he and Vox had always been similarly demanding in that way.) "If I bring you adequate materials for the construction and give you the sizing, are you able to fashion something from it in time for the day itself? Answer carefully, or you may not see the damned day at all."

'I-'

Alastor's gaze narrows threateningly, his shadow creeping up in imposing stature from behind him as the shop's lights flicker and darken with his impending anger.

' Y-Yes! I can! I can absolutely do that!' The shopkeep says in desperation. ' Please don't take my Soul... There's no need for that, I promise! '

"Good. Then I will be back in a day or two with the items. And you will make this the only thing you will work on until completion. Do you understand?"

The man nods and Alastor spares him one final look before turning on his heel and leaving.

-----

Gold. There is nothing else that can suit Lucifer and Lilith knew it when she exchanged that ring with him. Fine. Fine as a base. But that is not all it can be. There needs to be more. He is more than just the shine of some hardened, shining stone. Lucifer is... passion. He is beauty. He is the burning, fervid flame that remains as kindling for the very fabric of their existence. Though threatened to extinguish; near defeated by heartbreak and strife... That flame remains.

Lucifer is Hell.

"...Brimstone."

He says it aloud to himself as he sits upright in bed on the second night of contemplation. But it can't just be any brimstone. It must be special and significant. A piece - a fragment of the stone that keeps them rooted within the pentagram; a part of the crater that leaps up in vicious, jagged peaks that overlooks the entirety of the city. But how can he get there...? It will be too obvious if he leaves the city. Lilith will know.

It takes a woven web of contacts of hellborn to see the deed done. Promises of recognition and privilege that Alastor can deliver on in spades. A few imps boosted in status for their intrepid act on his behalf, venturing well beyond the boundary of civilization to collect what he wants, and bring it back. Three set out. Two return, the third having fallen victim to Sinners on the edges of the city. But he will keep his promise. The two remaining imps will be lavished with whatever they please, so long as they remain in contact with them. And in his possession, he has collected fragments of the burning red stone that singes when touched - sharp and dark and entirely reflecting of their home.

Alastor clasps the box of the stone shut and keeps it close to him.

One ingredient remains.

-----

The final part is something he has known that he wants to infuse within the band from the start. It is why on the third day, he is on his knees in the middle of his room, his shadow looming behind him as he fixes his gaze downwards. Shirtless, the litany of his scaring is exposed - including the Pentagram upon his spine. The eldritch fire burns in the fireplace; the conduit of his power which keeps much of the hotel functioning and safe. It bathes him in a green light as his shadow creeps closer, eyeing the Pentagram with a serious gaze.

"I need you to do this for me," he murmurs. "I can't do it myself."

Beneath his tail rests a small pan; meant to collect what will seep from his wound before the evening is complete.

The shadow hesitates, but it knows that it will do what it is commanded to, peeling from the walls to form a physical being, though still shimmering and swaying with the flicker of the nearby fire. Its claws elongate, reaching to press the tips against the sensitive flesh, pulling a hiss from its master where it pauses for confirmation that it may continue.

"...It's fine. It'll hurt. But I need it to."

The shadow understands.

With rigid claws, it scores lines into his flesh, pulling from Alastor a harsh gasp and near cry of pain that he quells only by biting down on his own tongue. Surface wounds. All surface wounds. The purpose is to harvest from him the blood. The blood from the Pentagram. He knows doing so will not change his lot - but to know that Lucifer will harbor some of his essence within that ring...

To him, it feels like an act of reclamation. From the oppressive wrenching of chains which he longs to escape.

It is a submission. To his one and only.

To the king.

To his star.

The pan fills with the deep, near black ichor as the scoring continues. Tears well in Alastor's eyes and trail down from them as he carries on in his silent, pained revelry. And in the end, when the pan is full and the shadow pulls its claws back, it still remains whole enough to see that Alastor is mended. A bath. Bandages. Stitches. But the pain will linger.

It is a good pain, he decides, when he is cognizant enough to pair his two important pieces of the puzzle together, bringing them to the jeweler the next day - the stone in its casing; the blood in a dark vial - with some relative stiffness in his stride. This, along with instructions for an engraving, are placed upon the counter.

"You have until tomorrow. Imbue them in a gold band. All three in equal measure."

The shopkeeper can only nod. He knows what is at risk if he does not deliver.

Alastor departs the store, anxiety beginning to surge its way through his bloodstream.

Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night he will know if it is enough.

[ TO BE CONTINUED. ]

#━━ ♔ the royal treasury. ┊ ⌜ saved. ⌟#radioiaci #━━ ♔ my strawberry moon. ┊ ⌜ radioiaci. ⌟#sending me an entire radioapple a03 fic .#YOU ARE SPOILING ME WITH ALL OF THESE !!!#lucifer has NO IDEA HOW HARD THAT MAN IS WORKING RN .#the brimstone ... literally shedding blood and INFUSING IT IN ...#his romantic horror is showing .

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ducktastic-dad · 21 hours ago

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@ducktastic-dad ⧐ 🎁 ( idc if it's The Thing or not hes GREEDY. ) CHRISTMAS GIFT ASKS.

[ PART ONE. ]

What does it mean to love?

In his discovery of the sanctuary of Lucifer's smile; in the warmth and comfort of his embrace and touch, the Devil has all but fully ensnared him with every fiber of his being. Through the passing days, Alastor understands that what he is feeling is new and novel. Undiscovered and uncharted territory in the jagged cage of his bones which support the heavy weight of the heart within. A heart which burns with sudden ferocity at the realization that it yearns, even when Lucifer is nearest to him. Even when their mouths are meeting and their hands are coasting against neglected parts of themselves. Even throughout each of those hidden moments, stolen away from prying eyes, he can sense that there still lingers something.

And it breeds resentment.

The small glint of a reminder every time he glances down at Lucifer's finger is nothing short of a mockery at Alastor's expense. Its pristine, unremarkable surface which contrasts Lucifer's blackened, blessed skin has only ever made his jaw set with unease. It is like she is looking at him even still - watching him. Judging him. Continuously stepping in between them. That lingering and evil memory which he only wants to take within his grasp and snap in half.

Lilith already has him - Alastor will not permit her to have Lucifer too. Not when he has worked so hard to entangle himself within the Devil's circle. Not when he has been fed the sweetest of nectars - not just his blood but his attention, his time, his gaze. All culminating into a singular being that Alastor wants above all else. With a deep, guttural churn of nothing less than pure, unadulterated ferocity, he knows:

The Morning Star is his and his alone.

But the ring laughs at him with its gleaming, golden glamor. Each time they are in bed. Each time that hand caresses his face. Each time he loses the entirety of himself in Lucifer's body and mind, it is still there to reel him back.

He needs it gone.

As the holidays near, Alastor invests himself in ways and methods to try and get Lucifer to get rid of it, but even after days of consideration and wondering, he cannot imagine any sort of situation where it may be removed willingly and without significant strife. He knows that Lucifer's torch for his wife is still... lit. The thought makes him sick. Or... does it make him sad? Maybe a combination of both. Some sad part of the Devil clinging to what was and whether or not it can be restored.

No, it cannot. But that does not stop the hopeful dreamer, he is certain, from grasping helplessly at the hem of a dress that will not spare him the affection; the attention; the love that he craves. All things that Alastor knows he can provide if-

If he can figure out how.

"...How can I ask that of him," he muses to himself on one night within the bayou, his shadow watching him carefully, splayed against the bark of a nearby willow. "To just abandon what he's been holding on to for as long as he has? How can I be that foolish to believe that he would? For what? For me?"

The shadow seems to slump. It does not know a solution either. It gestures in attempts to create suggestions, forming a silhouette of a bouquet which Alastor scoffs at.

"Flowers will not be adequate."

Another silhouette.

"No, neither will treats."

He has already put blood and sweat into the radio gift he'd created. How can he even manage to top that? Make him another? No, that would be pointless. A man has no use for two radios. At least not a man that is not him, anyway.

The shadow stills for a few moments before, steadily, gesturing once more. This time, in its claws, it forms the shape of a circle - a ring - watching Alastor's reaction closely. What it receives is perplexed confusion and frustration in turn.

"No, you idiot, I'm trying to make him get rid of the blasted thing," he says in a snap, though the shadow has seemingly had enough of his attitude, manifesting physicality long enough to lean and bonk one of its larger antlers against his own, to which Alastor swears, reaching up to rub at his set while making a sour attempt to understand -

And realizing all at once.

"...Give him another one?"

The shadow nods. And Alastor immediately flusters, angry.

"What good will that do?! The moron will think I'm proposing if I do something so absurd! I could not be that dense as to think that he'd -"

He stops, glancing from his shadow back out to the remainder of the bayou, effectively silenced by the idea which has already snagged thorny barbs into his mind and hooked itself there. Perhaps it does not have to be a true proposal, in such a way that one might do so to... arrange a marriage. That is a thing meant for people looking to live a normal existence. And Alastor is not normal. He never will be. But that does not mean he can't play at it in some way.

Not a wedding ring, but -

Something to... illustrate some sort of... commitment. But how to differentiate?

The fact of the matter is, he can foresee Lucifer accepting what is being given to him. Perhaps a bit awkwardly; perhaps uncertain as to how to react. But will it be enough to usurp Lilith's place on his hand? That is what he is uncertain about. And that is all the he truly cares about. Nothing else matters except to blatantly label the Devil as belonging to him and him alone. Not some damnable, olden memory that no longer deserves to hold space in his mind. Not when it is Alastor who is caring for the hotel. Alastor who is looking out for his daughter as promised. Alastor who has been there for him on those nights when his sadness creeps and wedges itself between his tired, worn feathers. Alastor who has done things for him time and time again - first selfishly, and then for Lucifer's benefit alone.

It's me, he tells himself, stubbornly.

Not her. Me.

Along his spine, the Pentagram burns with his near rejection of his master. But he knows who holds the cards. Still - that does not keep him from beginning to formulate thoughts on how to convince Lucifer to abandon her. How can he hold a candle...? It has to come from somewhere deep within - somewhere honest and sincere.

Vulnerable.

All words he detests. Lucifer can cut him to the core. Can so easily take the blade, shove it through his sternum, and twist.

The audacity you have, Alastor can imagine him saying. But would he say that...? The frightening part is the unknown. The willingness to place his heart in the hands of Hell's singular ruler and king - and hope that it is not squashed within the Devil's hands like nothing more than the brief and fleeting life of a mosquito. Never meant to last or to linger. Just quick. Temporary. Necessary.

And then snuffed out when the reminder of much brighter blossoms come again in the spring.

The frustration and introspection - vicious and unrelenting - has made his nose bleed, he realizes after a few moments. Reaching up, he callously wipes the few droplets away, flicking them in a splatter across a nearby fern.

"...I will not know unless I do it," he murmurs as the shadow continues to observe.

"And I will not give her the power over me to sit here and do nothing."

He has to try, he knows. Or else it will continue to remain. Until the resentment eats him away at the inside and he begins to form the rift between them himself.

Like with Vox.

The name brings a pang of remembrance and he shakes his head to rid himself of it, reaching up to grip at his scalp with intent to pull his hair, but instead feeling the catharsis of seeing the still steady drip-drip of the blood from his nose instead decorate the grass beneath his feet.

How foolish, he thinks. To be ripping himself to practical pieces over what will be. He is no coward. Or he refuses to permit himself to become one.

Nose still bleeding, Alastor glances up at his shadow who stares at him in turn.

"...Okay. I'll do it."

It seems to gaze through him as though looking for sincerity or resolve before nodding. And now that the idea has taken root and begins to spread its invasive, predatory vines...

Well.

Now he just has to figure out how.

[ TO BE CONTINUED. ]

#━━ ♔ the royal treasury. ┊ ⌜ saved. ⌟#radioiaci #━━ ♔ my strawberry moon. ┊ ⌜ radioiaci. ⌟#THIS IS A MASTERPIECE THANK U .#EATING THIS UP .#PASCALL !!! OUTDOING YOURSELF .#take off that RING SIR !!!

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ducktastic-dad · 21 hours ago

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❝ you mean the same guy who managed to turn a cookie into an F.D.A violation ? yeah, try not to pat yourself on the back too hard. ❞

"You're just being a sore loser. Doesn't make the mark, my ass. Alastor thought my cookie was great!"

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#hypnotic broadcast #vox christmas jamboree #ALASTOR COME GET UR GIRLS THEYRE FIGHTING AGAIN .#idc if food safety isnt real in hell its for the bit .

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ducktastic-dad · 22 hours ago

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x . || @hypnotic-broadcast said :

❝ taking my win well, are we ? ❞

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#hypnotic broadcast #vox christmas jamboree #LMFAOOO .#SO RUDE !!!!

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ducktastic-dad · 22 hours ago

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❝ i'm afraid neither of my fellow hosts would make the cut on those entries if it were up to me ━ now THIS is a REAL cookie ! ❞

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#vox christmas jamboree #NEITHER OF YOU HAVE CLASS !!!#for SHAME .

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ducktastic-dad · 22 hours ago

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Gingerbread Cookie Decorating Contest Results

"The results are in, folks," Vox's voice announced. The TV screens flickered and suddenly displayed ever contestant's name and a score next to it.

"The winner of our Gingerbread Cookie Contest is Valentino (@hazbinned) with his fabulous self portrait cookie! Come find me in the lobby so that I can present you with your prize!"

Vox's Scores:

@hazbinned - 8: "The cookie perfectly resembles its owner."

@the-divine-comedian - 6: "Is this a Grinch reference? I vibe, but it should have been more Grinchy."

@rradiioice - 3: "It looks so sad. It's making me depressed."

Alastor's Scores:

@hazbinned - 7: "Incredible likeness. But makes me want to bite it. A lot. Right at the place where its head meets its body."

@the-divine-comedian - 4: "What's this language? I don't get it. (He has never seen the Grinch.)"

@rradiioice - 9: "Looks enough like me to want to rate it high. Minus one point for not being red."

Lucifer's Scores:

@hazbinned - 5: "Nicely decorated, but I fucking hate this guy."

@the-divine-comedian - 9: "Very inventive! a lot of icing, I like that."

@rradiioice - 7: "A cute cookie, I like its monocle! I can see the resemblance."

Totals:

@hazbinned - 20

@the-divine-comedian - 19

@rradiioice - 19

@radioiaci @ducktastic-dad

#━━ ♔ the royal treasury. ┊ ⌜ saved. ⌟#Vox Christmas Jamboree #THIS GAME IS RIGGED .

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ducktastic-dad · 23 hours ago

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❝ oh ━ right, aha, yes ━ well you know, if you need anything at all, i'll be around. can never keep too close an eye on these sinners, ❞

always so prone to making trouble, he thinks ; despite the fact he is willingly surrounding himself with them, ( his precious daughter is a different matter entirely. ) but he is aware his opinions are still a bit of a touchy topic between them, so he continues on with a change in subject.

❝ so uh, speaking of, did you try anything at the buffet table on your way in ? i saw a few of the guests bring in cookies. looked pretty good ! ❞

Charlie chuckled abit nervously as the one before her was tossed aside, giving a smile she approached her father, apgozligin to the poor sinner who got tossed aside. ' It was actually Vaggie's idea! I wanted to just wear jeans and whatnot, but she convinced me to wear this.' She said bashfully pushing her hair behind her ear as she stood near her father. ' I haven't really started attending yes I am here, but nothing has happened yet.'

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#hotlhost #vox christmas jamboree #poor charlie having to put up with her dad LMAO .

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ducktastic-dad · 24 hours ago

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𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗨𝗦... 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣!

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#━━ ♔ all eyes on you. ┊ ⌜ promo. ⌟#advlox #oh this ROCKS .#what a cool promo !!!#haven't written w/ them yet but i have SEEN their writing and i would totally recommend a follow !!

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ducktastic-dad · 1 day ago

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something-something, hotel activities, something ━ yeah, he wasn't really listening to vaggie all that well at the time ; what he does catch is that he is being sent on a mission of diplomacy, as lucifer has begrudgingly accepted, to go fetch the hotelier. but now he is here, and alastor has opened his big fat mouth, static-laden tones of passive-aggressiveness quick to prod his patience. something he does not have much of.

❝ oh well, i was just in the neighborhood, thought i'd stop by ━ see if you need any help packing your bags. since you're no longer needed, and all. ❞

@ducktastic-dad requested an interaction with THE RADIO DEMON :

" Well, isn't THIS grand! An unexpected visit from HIS MAJESTY himself, to my private quarters, no less... and to WHAT do I owe the questionable pleasure? "

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#radiodaemon #thank u !! always down for anything .#i'm a bit of a reply yapper haha . don't feel any obligation to match length !

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ducktastic-dad · 1 day ago

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anyway GOOD NEWS i got my pc back and have been re-organizing n stuff so i should be able to do more replies again WOOHOO !! it also means i get to DRAW. i can't wait to do 500 sketches of lucifer again

#━━ ♔ i’m he but never him. ┊ ⌜ ooc. ⌟#mun art .#trying to get back all my brushes atm .#oh clip .... oh how i missed u .....

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ducktastic-dad · 1 day ago

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new helluva ep was great i loved the plot

#━━ ♔ i’m he but never him. ┊ ⌜ ooc. ⌟#helluva boss spoiler #except it isnt but u know .

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ducktastic-dad · 1 day ago

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Gingerbread Cookie Decorating Contest Announcement

Every television screen within the Vee tower flickers as Vox's face appears on the screen.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing our first competition of the event! It's time for our Gingerbread Cookie Decorating contest! You have until the cutoff time before myself, Alastor, and Lucifer brutally judge each cookie entered!"

"Once again, thank you for trusting us with your holiday!"

Rules and How To Participate: - Make a new post that includes a decorated version of the PNG cookie included below! - Tag all three hosts ( @hypnotic-broadcast @ducktastic-dad @radioiaci ) ! - Give a little description of what your muse does to present their cookie to the judges! - Only one muse per blog may enter! - Participants will be scored by all three hosts on a scale from 1-10 (10 being the best)! - The 1st place prize for the competition will be a beautiful PNG ribbon and a 20% off VoxTek products coupon gifted to you by Vox! - Entries must be in by 7 PM (MST)! Judging will take place shortly after!

#━━ ♔ i’m he but never him. ┊ ⌜ ooc. ⌟#Vox Christmas Jamboree #ITS THE COOKIE CONTEST !!#this one has the most potential for disaster giving ppl the ability to draw LMAO .

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ducktastic-dad · 2 days ago

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lo and behold, the infamous royal shut-in isn't participating in the more socially draining activities ━ one too many pictures and already beginning to wear thin. there isn't much point anyhow, when the real competition isn't there. instead he retreats to the side of his fellow co-host, their music acting somewhat as a lure as he is drawn towards. a bit less draining. lucifer raises the silvery branch in his hand briefly, to scratch at his chin in idle thought.

❝ hm. . . chopin ━ do you know raindrop ? shudders, every. single. time. can't say it's much of a partying piece, though. or sinsmas-y. ❞

in no world can he imagine someone with the classical taste of alastor wouldn't know of chopin, but such a specific piece might be another matter. he will continue to enjoy the piano melodies regardless.

❝ what's that you're playing now ? ❞

[ vox's christmas jamboree ] - open starter #2

The press of piano keys is gentle - though loud enough to be heard over the din of party-goers. While he is not participating in the apparent karaoke contest (which he would win, even if he was), he is happy to provide some light accompaniment for the evening, humming along to the melody which his claws deftly trace from measure to measure.

They do not falter as he spies the other approaching, carrying through the remainder of the song as he greets them.

"Any requests?" He asks in a warm tone. Alastor is, momentarily, in his element. Even amongst the throngs of other citizens of Hell which he would rather consume than party with.

But he is here to be good at Vox's behest.

#━━ ♔ hell’s hottest hazbin. ┊ ⌜ lucifer. ⌟#radioiaci #━━ ♔ my strawberry moon. ┊ ⌜ radioiaci. ⌟#vox christmas jamboree #ok i had to respond to AT LEAST ONE of ur opens .#go music man go .

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