#;; muse : lucifer

[elveswithoutearsmultimuse]

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[musamora]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆｡˚

content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.

You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.

As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.

“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”

And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.

But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.

But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening. 

In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.

You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.

His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.

And he would always be thankful for that.

His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.

In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

But that had been the norm for thousands of years.

And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.

However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.

“Hot damn.”

His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.

Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”

Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.

“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.

You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”

“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”

You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”

“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.

“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.

You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”

Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”

However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.

“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”

“I am not your babe, Adam.”

You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”

“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.

His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”

His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”

He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”

You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.

“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.

“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”

“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent. 

But that was a terrible mistake.

Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.

“Die.”

“Dad!”

Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.

“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”

The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.

“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”

Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”

You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”

“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”

“(Name),” he said, voice stern.

The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”

“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.

“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”

You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”

You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.

“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’

You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”

A silence persisted.

“Your future wife, hm?”

“…shit.”

TAGLIST: @little-miss-chaoss

© MUSAMORA 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[radioapple-heathen]

As much as I love the "drags Alastor kicking and screaming into a romantic entanglement with Lucifer where he inevitably accepts that he's in love with dear ol' King of Hell", I really need some fics where he's like, 'Hm. Well, alright, you'll do, I guess. I suppose if I am going to be with someone in this way, it's an unfathomably powerful entity/king.'

Just like so aware of himself/his sense of self that he's like, no point in denying the inevitable, sigh. Take me out to dinner then. Somewhere nice in Cannibal Town, only the best for me.

Or even better, he's fucking smitten from the get go -- tail wagging, ears twitching, like, yes I'm gonna make that blinking-one-eye-at-a-time king mine.

I just need HIM to be the pursuer. Desperately.

[melverie]

Lesson 10 and 11 were great btw

tbh I wouldn't mind if the rest of the season continues on like this

[ghosts-of-the-apocalypse]

FUCK YES!! sorry but I absolutely called it! Lucifer is a silly guy!

Excessive ramble/theory tid bits ahead!~

How can you look at him and think he won't be a silly little guy? People saying he'd be a big intimidating scary king of hell? No way dude just look at him.

And like the way he looks so upset in Ep1 when he lost his ability to create. That's not the face of a guy seeking revenge and filled with anger, that dude is just plain ol' depressed. The way he slowly just walks off screen...

Lilith on the other hand? She is the definition of girlboss.

She's out here inspiring all the demons. Look at that power. She's in control. She's in charge.

While Lucifer's in his depressive state she's out here trying to lead all of hell. She's vengeful, (ik reds are quite a common colour in Hazbin Hotel) but the way it emanates in a glow behind her combined with her pose. It's just shows so much power and malice. You cannot convince me otherwise that she hasn't been pulling the strings since day 1.

I'd even go as far as to say she was the one who had the idea to tell Lucifer to give Eve the apple. Just look at her stance as she stands back to see Lucifer going over to Eve, overlooking the plan. She knows what's up.

(Also just a note but Eve looks so sad here. Girlie is trapped with Adam like she's in her own personal type of Hell. Btw I'd like to throw a theory out there that Eve and Lilith are sisters)

Ngl I do think Lucifer and Lilith split because of this whole power dynamic. Like Lucifer just couldn't keep up with Lilith's ideas or didn't believe in them. Like, Lucifer tells Charlie in Ep5 that Hell and it's people are terrible. This contradicts Lilith's whole thing of wanting to round up all the demons and potentially lead a fight. She THRIVES in Hell. For Lucifer, it's just constant punishment.

I feel like Charlie despite looking up to Lilith, is experiencing quite a bit of miscommunication. They both want to save the demons but in different ways. Charlie's way being through redemption but Lilith's maybe being through a war against Heaven.

Now it's just figuring out where the hell (pun not intended but enjoy) she's been for the past 7 years. (Honestly, I think she's just been off plotting with Eve.)

Another side note, but like the way Alastor just stares at this portrait in the pilot for such a weird prolonged amount of time is not helping my Lilith and Alastor theories calm down. Bro is the radio demon and is broadcasting everything back to Lilith.

He 100% sold his soul to Lilith, tried breaking free, but couldn't.

[paraseleneblur]

Assorted textposts i made while dinner cooks

[astermagne]

Some warm up sketches for those who also don’t want to wait

[themosthatedbeingg]

Lucifer and Lilith’s wedding cake topper ~

[ahli-stuff]

Radioapple could be better

Back in the old days radioapple was my fan favorite crack ship . How the times change

Before we got our official depiction of Lucifer as we have now, I imagined him to be condescending, sly, manipulative character who would go on to be Alastor’s foil. Now, the only thing of that remains is that he is Alastor’s foil but the subversion of the sexy and powerful Lucifer of pop culture into sad-awkward dad Lucifer is amazing and I’ve grown really fond of it.

But for how popular it is now, there’s still a big itch that fan content for radioapple (or maybe just Lucifer) fails to scratch for me. This isn’t an issue I have that’s exclusive to Lucifer either, I nearly lost my mind about it in Tv series Lucifer(2016) too.

it’s the fact that there’s barely anyone seems to depict Lucifer’s sheer knowledge. If we are going by the finale, 10,000 years ago is when Lucifer first fell. He is at least 10,000 years old.

10,000 years to learn from the millions of stories (in passing and directly) who have fallen into hell. The wars, the disasters, the movements, the people!!! Age does not equate to wisdom, but you cannot live that long and fail to pick up a certain degree of separation from petty grievances of people who have lived only a fraction of the time you have. That’s doesn’t mean you’re immune to doing irrational things or having childish flaws, but those should coexist with the sheer weight of your knowledge. There should be a certain novelty that an immortal feels in being grounded around very young people who treat them like they are human. Because the knowledge and experience that comes with being immortal can be very dehumanizing, and that is especially so for a figure who has been maybe the most demonized in myth and religion ever.

Give me a Lucifer who knows thousands of different writings, religions, traditions, languages. Give me a Lucifer who contemplates the cruelty of some of the most infamous sinners in real life that have fallen into hell. Give me a Lucifer who becomes lost in ancient levels of nostalgia—his halcyon days with Lilith when humanity began to rear up and he was still hopeful.

Give me an Alastor who, beyond his resentment and ego, is deathly curious how Lucifer works. As a kid who likely went to church every Sunday and listened to pastors caution against the devil so many times his ears may fall off, to meet the guy himself? To meet the entity whom the entirety of the god fearing south wanted to scare him to sleep with? To finally meet the dealmaker of dealmakers?

Give me a late night conversation between the two where they discuss the what alastor has heard about Lucifer topside, Lucifer’s genuine curiosity of Alastor’s morality as a human, and the overall smallness of their existences in the largeness of their myths.

[hellizens]

@cervidae-demon

Maybe he is the last person Alastor wants to see...but damn it, he's worried.

Lucifer leaves his office after he finishes eating the plate that was left for him and heads down the hall to the Radio Demon's room. His nerves hold him in a vice for a few seconds, but when he gets over it, he knocks.

"Alastor? You don't have to let me in. I just...got worried...and wanna check on you. Are you okay?"

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The attacks did not stop at the one.

After the third attack, Lucifer decided it was time to take a more proactive approach. Knowing that Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, was at the Hotel and more than willing to literally eat their attackers alive wasn't serving as enough of a deterrent.

It looked like they were going to need a bigger reminder about who all resided in the hotel.

Unfortunately, they didn't know who was behind the attacks. Lucifer had snagged someone during each of the attacks, and each time, the story was the same: the group had received a call to go roughen up the residents of the hotel, but no names were ever given.

It was smart. Annoying, but smart.

Frustrated, Lucifer tossed the last of this round of goons to Alastor (and if the action mimicked tossing a dog a treat, well, no one had called him on it, yet). The redhead hummed in pleasure at his work, the sound somehow soothing rather than grating through his radio filter.

The King of Hell watched him, considering. Their opponent knew Alastor was here. Was wary enough of him not to give them any names. The skill levels of the goons were getting better, but they were still no match, really, for either of them.

The only one he truly knew to any capacity was Alastor, and he doubted the redhead was behind this. Alastor wasn't about to undermine the hotel he was so very obviously invested in, even if it was only for his own 'entertainment.'

It was most likely it was another one of those Overlords. Lucifer had only met a couple of them. Hadn't really paid attention to the politics since the system was just starting to get off the ground. He knew Carmilla Carmine for all that he hadn't seen her in nearly two decades. Their connection had been deliberately buried until only Carmilla, Lilith, and himself knew about it anymore.

He had met Zestial, only the once, but that had been back when the spider Overlord was young and new to his position. That must have been... three or four hundred years ago?

Which meant that enlisting Alastor's help was his best bet, something he absolutely did not want to do. Lucifer had managed to avoid anything more than a gentleman's agreement the last time they'd done anything transactional because Alastor had wanted his chance at a pound of flesh more than he wanted to escalate the tensions between them.

Asking for his help with an investigation, something that was going to take potentially a large amount of time and energy, was going to be costly.

Lucifer grimaced. At this stage, he was going to have to try it keep any transactions as one-off as possible. One time deals with a clear give and take. No loop holes or vague details.

Alastor, who had returned back to his usual form, watched him, having picked up on the change in mood. He appeared to be in a good mood, having just had a rather large meal and all.

Well, no better time to do this.

Lucifer lightly touched down in front him, just out of arm's reach. The distance seemed to amuse the deer demon, further adding to the hypothesis that he was closer to an agreeable mood than usual.

"May I speak with you. In private?" Lucifer grit his teeth, but forced out a polite, "Please?"

Alastor considered him. "I assume it's about this latest round of nonsense?"

"Yes, but." Lucifer glanced behind him. Charlie and the rest of the residents were watching them from the doorway, always ready to step in if needed. He turned back to the redhead. "I would prefer to have this discussion in private. If you feel better with it, we can discuss it in your room."

It was probably a little telling, giving up the familiar ground again, but he felt it was still the most likely place to keep Alastor agreeable.

Alastor hummed, placing his hands behind his back as he began the short walk back to the hotel. Lucifer came up to walk beside him, keeping his distance but forced to stay a little closer for the sake of privacy.

The redhead's smile was knowing, aware of what he was doing. "Very well, your Magesty. Perhaps after we send everyone back on their way?"

It was a subtle way of asking how public Lucifer wanted anyone to know about their meeting. "Later tonight, after everyone has gone to bed."

People were likely going to see them working together at some point, but he'd rather postpone that mess as long as possible.

Alastor's smile took on a hint of teeth, eyes half lidded with the promise of seeing something amusing. "I look forward to our chat, then."

Oh, Lucifer bet he did.

Lucifer put it out of his mind, surrendering himself to Charlie's inspection. The wound to his hand was long gone and not even a concern any more, but it seemed his daughter was still shaken by the fact that her father was just as vulnerable to Angelic Steel as her girlfriend was.

He spent the majority of the rest of the day in her company, something that had brought her comfort after the last fight, only escaping her clutches when she and Vaggie decided to call it a night.

"Night, Dad! Remember to take it easy tonight," she called over to him as she headed out.

Lucifer and Vaggie shared a look. The latter, taking pity on the former, took hold of Charlie's arms and began leading her away. "Yes, yes, he got the message. You're smothering him."

Lucifer heard his daughter gasp and he caught a glimpse of a fretting expression on her face before she was led around the corner. "He needs fretting!" he thought he heard her exclaim before she was too far out of earshot.

The blond knew he had a dopey smile on his face, but he was just so happy to get to spend as much time with her as he had been getting lately. He just wanted to soak it all up before she got tired of him and no longer needed him anymore.

"You need anything else, sir?"

Lucifer twisted around to face the bar, remembering the drink in his hand. He'd felt like something non-alcoholic tonight (he needed all of his wits to survive tonight), and since a wider variety of drinks had been added to the menu, he'd thought he'd indulge. "Nah, but thanks, Husk. Don't stay up on my account. I'll clean my glass before I leave."

The winged cat grunted. He finished up the final glass he'd been cleaning, placing it with the others. "Don't have to tell me twice. Night, sir."

Lucifer waved him off. They really did need to work on the 'sir' part, but Husk was as stubborn as the rest of them.

The hotel began to settle as one hour passed, then the next. When he could no longer hear and movement, he downed the rest of his drink. It didn't taste as good at room temperature, but there was no need to waste it. A little twirl of his finger and a touch of magic, the glass was as good as new.

He placed the glass in its designated spot behind the counter. He took a deep, steading breathe, resisting the urge to put this off. Better to get it over with.

Red smoke swirled around him as he transported him straight out of the lobby and up to Alastor's room. He didn't want to take any chances that someone would see him coming and going. He reappeared as close to the entrance of the room as he could, as to not impolite intrude more than he already was. Normally, he wouldn't care, but, again. Playing nice.

He looked around until he spotted his quarry over by the fireplace, still fully dressed as normal and sipping who knew what.

"Ah, sire, I was beginning to wonder if you'd keep me waiting." Alastor gestured to the small table set out between his chair and a second chair to entertain guests. "You'll have to forgive me. Your tea has likely gone cold, but I expected you an hour ago." His smile wasn't sorry in the least.

Well, so much for being in an agreeable mood.

Lucifer crossed the room to the vacant chair. He dropped into it, ignoring the drink. He wouldn't have accepted anything from the cannibal at this stage in their acquaintance anyway. "I'd like some information on the current Overlords."

Alastor placed his cup on the saucer resting on his lap. "Ah! Straight to business. Good, man." The redhead looked his guest up and down. "And what have you to offer in exchange for this information?"

Lucifer settled into his seat, crossing one leg over the other, as he lounged to the side. His elbow came to rest on the arm rest. "You tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I'm willing to pay it."

Alastor's eyes took on a golden glow, pupils morphing into dials. "You'll uphold the bargain, even if I don't have all the information you want?"

He hated to do it, but, "Yes."

The deer demon leaned forward. "This will be a binding deal, not an agreement."

Just as he thought. The blond responded, again, "Yes."

Alastor's body language shifted. Something sinister, never quite buried and never hidden well rising to the surface. Lucifer could almost see him considering his options, weighing each one in turn.

Finally, he settled on, "Your blood, taken at a time of my choosing."

Lucifer didn't wince, although he wanted to. He sighed, nodding. "One time. No ongoing feedings. We don't do it in public. If I need anything else from you after this, we can negotiate any terms at that time."

Alastor placed his cup and saucer on the table. "Also, you take on that delightful deer form of yours, and I get to feed until I'm full. No retaliation."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him, noting the word 'full.' "Can you actually get full? I know you're not a real windigo, but I can see the influences."

A red tipped claw waved the concern off. "Despite all appearances to the contrary, I am not a 'bottomless pit.'" Alastor did not actually use finger quotes around the phrase, which he seemed to find distasteful, but Lucifer heard them anyway. Someone had used this phrase against him in the past. "It simply takes a rather large meal to sate my appetite."

His grin widened with anticipation and a touch of excitement. "Whatever you seraphim are made of, your blood was exceptionally potent! I was very nearly full off of it all by itself."

Lucifer shuddered, even as he matched Alastor's grin with near manic one of his own. He certainly hoped it would be. Fallen or not, he was still one of his father's most powerful creations. "Your terms are acceptable."

Alastor held out his hand, the shadows that made up his magic unnaturally darkening the room. The stitches along his coat and smile cast a sickly green glow across his person. "I take it we have a deal?"

Lucifer felt his true form come over him. He didn't allow himself to hesitate. He reached out and took the Radio Demon's hand.

"Deal."

Shadows lit by green symbols spread out across the room and down into the hotel. The foundation creeked with the power of the binding being cast around the deal makers. If this had been the original building, it would have crumbled.

(Down in their rooms, the other residents shifted uneasily in their sleep. Husk, the only one still awake, stared at the ceiling in grim trepidation as evidence of his master's newest deal lit up his room.)

The magic faded away as they drew their hands away. Lucifer could feel the weight of the chain settle around his neck. Could see the other end of it wrapping around Alastor's hands, laying in wait for him to call in it.

It was not the most pleased he'd ever seen the Radio Demon, but it was close.

Alastor, sometimes capable of pretending to be meciful, let the chain disappear. He picked back up his drink, prompting, "You had some questions, your Majesty?"

Lucifer pressed his lips together briefly. He hated the way Alastor said his title on a good day. Knew he did it just to annoy him. Usually, he let it slide. Perhaps it was the new weight around his throat and the delight in every line of Alastor's body that made it grate this time.

He forced himself to relax.

"Tell me about the current Overlords. The territories they hold. What alliances they have."

Alastor leaned back in his own seat, making himself comfortable. "Well, if we're going to talk about anyone, we must start the esteemed, Zestial..." The radio host indeed proved to be knowledgeable in this area, providing concise and easy to follow information whenever Lucifer asked for clarification.

For instance: "Carmilla Carmine?" Lucifer had had ample practice with pretending he had never the Overlord. There was nothing in his tone to give it away. "She was the one that provided the weapons Angel and the others used, yes?"

"Yes." Alastor tilted his head to the side. "I must admit, I'm a little surprised you're not more concerned about how much Angel Steel there is laying around. It might be expensive, but it's certainly everywhere. Isn't it a danger to you and your daughter?"

It was only the fact that there wasn't any audible malice to the question, just the sense that the redhead was poking to see if Lucifer would be willing to share the information, that held his knee jerk response in check. This was, indeed, a Q&A for Lucifer to question and Alastor to answer. There was little reason to give anything away in this instance.

Ultimately, the blond settled on letting him have this, as the redhead had already seen him bleed.

Lucifer held up the hand that had been impaled. Alastor's eyes followed the movement, focusing in on the line of slightly lighter grey that was all that remained of the wound. It was darker than it had been just yesterday and would be darker still tomorrow. "Angelic Steel holds little threat to me or to Charlie." It might have, had she been a Nephilim born of the union between an ordinary angel and human, but as one born of a seraphim and the first woman? Not a chance. "It can hurt us, but it's little more of an inconvenience."

Now, if someone where to get their hands on Charlie's trident and attack her with it? Well. No one needed to know that.

Alastor made that humming noise he made when he was digesting a new tidbit of information. He picked up his narrative, going on to explain the alliance between himself and various other Overlords. From the way he spoke of her, Lucifer got the impression that Alastor actually liked this 'Rosie' character, while he just as clearly did not like the Vees, which was apparently the handle for a group of three separate Overlords.

He didn't realize he knew more Overlord names than he thought he did, until he recognized another name. "Valentino. He's the one that Angel has a contract with?"

Alastor nodded. "Yes. To my understanding, Valentino owns Angel's soul, but can only exert any control over him while in the studio. Seems a silly little loop hole, if you ask me."

The nonchalance, the so little care for Angel's clear suffering was a stark reminder that Alastor himself was an Overlord with his own souls. Lucifer frowned at him, a little of his contempt bleeding into his tone, as he accused, "A loop hole I'm sure you'd never allow your own souls, hm?"

Alastor laughed. "Ha ha! Oh no! Not at all. Any soul I own, it's total and complete." He smirked back in the face of Lucifer's disgust. "But I mostly deal with favors, more so than souls. I like to do little things for others, and later, at a time of my choosing, they do something for me." His expression grew thoughtful. "Why, cashing in a few of my favors is how I got that silly little advertisement for the hotel on the air. I'm sure you've gotten around to seeing it by now, yes?"

Lucifer felt his irritation simmering below the surface. Only allowed the sharpening of the claws he wanted to use to wipe that smug little grin off Alastor's face be the only indication of it. He pushed the conversation on, instead of letting the sinner have the point. "And do you hold territory?"

The Radio Demon held up his hands to bring attention the room as a whole. "Oh, nothing like that. My tower is more than enough, although I do get a bit possessive with the hotel itself, since I've invested so much time and energy into it." He pointed to the radio on the shelf behind him. "I don't really need more when I can reach anywhere with a radio on hand. My favors owed do a great deal of the work of covering any gaps in my coverage."

Lucifer remembered him mentioning he had a talk show. Now that it was brought up, he recalled seeing several of the old fashioned radios around the hotel. Charlie had one in her room and there was one in the main foyer. He had been thinking of adding one into his room, but hadn't gotten around to it.

Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that was a great idea. Perhaps he could sneak out the one in Charlie's room the next time he was in there?

He gestured for the other to continue. When Alastor finished, Lucifer took a moment to chew on the information he had been given. It was a good start, better than where he was at the beginning of the day. But it didn't really narrow anything down.

"Do you know of anyone in particular who might feel threatened by what the hotel is trying to accomplish?"

Alastor laughed, finding the question a bit absurd. "Any of us might find it threatening, my dear king. Our deals and our reputations are our most powerful tools. The possibility that souls can be redeemed means that those deals might be broken which threatens our power."

Lucifer supposed it was too easy, if there had been an simple response to that question. Alastor surprised him, though, when he added, "Really, I don't know why anyone is worried about the hotel, when supposedly you're a bigger threat yourself."

The blond frowned, attention sharpening. "What? Me? What do I have to do with any of that?"

Alastor's posture was as languid as it had been since he had settled in. Nothing on the surface seemed to have changed, but Lucifer could feel the weight of his gaze as he explained, "Oh, you know. That silly legend that's been hanging around."

Lucifer blinked at him, baffled. "What legend?"

"The one that says you can break deals."

Unbidden, a memory rose to the surface. Of himself standing above a sinner kneeling at the base of his throne. The sound of the shattering of their chain and the tinkling sound as the links hit the floor - once, twice - and then vanished. It had been the last time he'd ever interfered in the drama between sinners. Lucifer blinked, the memory vanishing like smoke.

He almost dismissed it. Almost let the truth die and remain a myth. Something about the way Alastor was watching him held him back. Whispered: this is important.

Telegraphing the movement, the Devil raised his free hand. Seeing he had the Radio Demon's full attention, he flicked the chain that represented their Deal, putting a little power into it to force the chain to materialize.

Alastor jolted, spine straightening and ears standing on end, half looking like he had received an electric shock.

Lucifer lowered his hand, letting the chain disappear. "I can't break deals I've made, if that's what you're worried about."

The redhead rolled the wrist his end of the chain was wrapped around, trying to work some feeling back into the suddenly numb limb. He still looked amused, but only by the skin of his teeth. "Come now, it's like you think I was accusing you of being dishonorable!" He visibly pulled his undaunted mask back into place. "I was merely asking if you could break other people's deals!"

Uh huh. Sure he was.

Still. With the same level of casualness, Lucifer straightened from his slouch. Dominant hand freed, he used it to reach out and pluck a different chain right out of thin air.

Alastor's eyes widened fully from the normal half-lidded state. One side of the chain was wrapped around the redhead's wrist, showing him the owner of the Deal. The other side trailed off under the door and out of the room.

If one were to follow it to its other end, they would have found themselves standing outside of Husk's door.

Lucifer watched Alastor, the latter's eyes glued to the former's grip on the chain. Anticipation was evident in Alastor's expression, but it was a little harder to parse out the other emotion in there.

Hope.

But hope of what?

Lucifer tightened his grip, testing the strength (Alastor's strength) of the Deal. The links creaked and groaned under his own power and he found that it would be easy to break them.

Instead of breaking them, however, he released the chain instead.

Alastor's left ear twitched, expression growing rigid, as if he had forgotten he was being watched. Something related to disappointment, but not quite, crossed it before curiosity took it's place. "You didn't break it?"

"Husk is an adult and he made his own choices. Contrary to popular belief, I do appreciate consequences." Perhaps Lucifer would be willing to change his stance on the subject in the future - he was growing attached to the members of the hotel, besides Charlie and Vaggie, by default. He certainly would if Charlie ever asked him to. "Besides, I'm not in the market to make anymore of an enemy out of you tonight than you already are."

There was that familiar amusement again. "Oh? Does that mean I'm growing on you, sire?"

Lucifer shuddered, waving the idea away like the smell of it was something foul and putrid, which only seemed to amuse Alastor some more. "Er, no. Absolutely not. Father, you're so lucky Charlie likes you."

"Indeed." Alastor looked to the clock on top of his fireplace, which drew Lucifer's attention to it.

Egad, Lucifer thought to himself as he saw the time, when did it get so late?

"Did you have any other questions for me, sire?"

Lucifer was both closer to his goal and yet further away from it than when they started. It did indeed seem like an Overlord was responsible for the attacks, but it was unlikely that this line of inquiry would bear any more fruit.

He sighed. He didn't like what he was about to do, but it had to be done anyway. "No, I don't have any future questions at this time."

Both sides felt the redhead's side of the Deal closing, Alastor's end fulfilled. His hands flexed around the feel of the chain and then settled. Perfectly polite, he said, "Splendid! Fancy doing business with you. You don't mind if we call this a night, then?"

Lucifer didn't want to poke that bear, but he couldn't help but ask: "You're not going to cash in your deal tonight?"

The Radio Demon looked at him, knowing he was really asking it so that they could get it over with as soon as possible. "Nonsense! I've already eaten a hardy meal today." Alastor grinned from ear to ear, looking for all the world like he was talking about a 5 Star restaurant's menu and not about drinking someone's blood straight from the source. "I'd much rather reserve this meal to a time I could enjoy it to the fullest."

Lucifer grimaced. Cannibals. Either way, the desire to not have those teeth in this neck tonight won over the need to get this over with and he decided that he was not, in fact, going to look that gift horse in the mouth that night. "Whelp, good talk!" The little king sprung to his feet. To avoid turning his back on the creature that literally had license to take a bite out of him, he decided he was just going to portal out. "Uh, let me know when you want to, uh, do the thing."

As he portalled out, he heard Alastor drawl, tone heavy with dark promise, "I most certainly will."

tbc

Part 6

[aerieren]

“Lonely is the muse

Lonely and forgotten aside”

(Based on the statue The Angel of Grief)

How does tumblr even work now?

Anyways I’m beginning to draw again because Hazbin has activated every creative cell in my body lmao

So here you go?

Note: I chose Helel as Lucifer’s angelic name because I cannot wrap my head around Samael since it means “Poison of God”…

[suniside-crossing]

"Soooo...Alastor's not gonna be around for, like...three months? ...'kay then. That's cool. I'll just...do his job for him, I guess."

[radioapple-heathen]

Masterpost

Hi folks! Since I've had an influx of new followers lately, figured it was about time I made one of these pinned posts.

Blurb: She/Her, married, thirties, aspec, rampant ADHD'er raising the next generation of neurodivergents. This was meant to be a sideblog for my brief fascination with radioapple, but now I'm actually hyperfixating on this pair, reading an unhealthy amount of fanfic, and writing fics, so I guess I'm stuck in this Hell with a very respectable penname to match. You can call me Hikari (a relic of my first ever fandom).

I usually won't take on more than 1-2 writing projects at a time, any more than that is a surefire way for me to end up with multiple incomplete projects, and it's really important to me that I finish the things I start (while fighting my ADHD brain every step of the way). Check out my fics, headcanons, and rec lists below!

My Fics:

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Multi-Chap, 4/4, Complete.

Summary:

Lucifer stumbles upon a rather effective way of shutting up The Radio Demon.

Alternatively, Alastor can't cope with his feelings and makes it everyone else's problem.

2. loml

Multi-Chap, 8/20, In Progress.

Summary:

“Why him?”

Lucifer crosses his arms over his stomach, hands clasping onto opposite elbows; a simulation of the hug he so desperately needs.

There’s a lot he can say here.

Like how Alastor makes his hopeless heart flutter with the belief that maybe dreams are still possible; that Alastor makes him feel something, anything, everything all at once, and it is as heavenly as it is torturous.

But all he can manage, in a voice so small he can scarcely believe it's his own, is, “He makes me laugh.”

Chapter Art: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

My Rec Lists:

My Top 10 Series Recs

My Top 10 Multi-Chap Recs

My Top 10 Oneshot Recs

(These are subject to change and will fluctuate over time as new content becomes available! But as of 9/1/2024, these are my top recs!)

My Headcanons:

Find them here!

[melverie]

Just remembered that Satan in the "A World of Our Very Own" devilgram says that he believes he was "born in order to meet MC" and it always sounded incredibly cheesy to me but then I thought about it a little more and--

Originally, Satan was just a small glimmer inside Lucifer's consciousness until Lucifer's wrath reached its peak with Lilith's death which, in turn, resulted in Satan's birth

MC is a direct descendant of Lilith after she was reborn as human

If it weren't for Lilith's death, neither of them would be here

Both of their existences are directly intertwined with one another, so in a way Satan's right

They have always been destined to be a part of each other's lives

[aestheticbyais]

🎶 I’m grateful you’re my father/daughter more than anything! 🎶

Charlie Morningstar and Lucifer Morningstar aesthetic.