#Omega Alastor

[thief-of-eggs]

Thinking about an omegaverse radioapple au (still with asexual Alastor) where Alastor is always on suppressants- he hasn’t had a heat in ages (and when he does, they’re never the most pleasant, seeing as he’d rather die than take a lover to bed, even if it would ease the pain)

But having all the new inhabitants in the hotel messes with things, and then he misses a dose of his suppressants and before he knows it- he can feel a heat coming on.

Lucifer can scent it on him, no matter how much the demon tries to hide it. He picks up the particular sweetness of it one night, after Alastor had been missing all day, and with concern growing in his gut- he follows it.

He follows the scent until he’s at Alastor’s bedroom, and he knows he shouldn’t enter- they’ve been together for a little while, but their relationship is still shaky, and if Alastor chose to go to his own bedroom instead of the one they share, then he must have wanted pace- and Lucifer is just about to turn away, until he hears a pained moan, and he can’t help himself.

He pushes inside, finding Alastor laying in a ball in the corner of his room, curled up in a mound of blankets and pillows, shirts of Lucifer’s in his little nest, little pieces of his favorite person scattered around him- and he looks terrible.

His ears are flat on his head, his whole body is trembling and covered in sweat. He doesn’t even notice Lucifer come in, not until the angel is standing before him-

“Leave,” he spits, even as Lucifer’s calming scent washes over him. His whole body aches, every muscle screaming.

Lucifer pauses, his heart aching to see Alastor so pained. “Isn’t there anything I can do to help?”

And Alastor is about to tell him to go fuck himself, when Lucifer suddenly sinks to his knees, reaching out to brush the hair from Alastor’s face- and the contact eases a bit of the fire in his skin, soothes a bit of the raging in his gut.

He doesn’t push him away. Instead, despite himself, he leans his cheek into Lucifer’s palm. Closing his eyes as he breathes in the familiar scent of his alpha.

He hates everything about the position he’s in. Hates how vulnerable, how exposed, how utterly pathetic he is. But the longer Lucifer stays beside him, his scent filling Alastor’s lungs- the more he finds he cannot bear to drive Lucifer out.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t express what he needs, doesn’t communicate his wants. He just grabs Lucifer’s wrist and pulls him closer, tugging the blonde into his little nest, where he promptly curls up in his arms.

It’s more contact than he usually allows, but for once, his skin is not prickling every place they meet. Instead, his body feels warm from Lucifer’s touch, a pleasant glow filling his whole being.

Perhaps this is how touch often feels for everyone else.

Lucifer stays with him then, until the worst of his heat is over. Fully clothed, they lay in eachother’s embrace, Alastor allowing Lucifer to scent him, allowing him to card his fingers through his hair, allowing him to run his hand up and down his back.

It’s awful. It’s humiliating.

And it’s also the first time one of his heats has ever been bearable.

(edit: i made this a fic!!! read it here!)

[scented-sin]

Headcanons for Omega Alastor 𐂂 Ω

Doodle by @lucifer-imaginaryfriend

General Personality and Traits

Primal yet Polished: Alastor, despite being an omega, exudes an air of confidence and control. His primal instincts are tempered by his sharp, almost manic energy, making him a blend of polished manners and intense emotion.

A Deep Seeker of Control: As an omega, Alastor is deeply protective of his sense of control. He prefers to hold the reins in any situation, using his charm, wit, and manipulative tendencies to ensure he’s never vulnerable.

Rarely Passive: Unlike traditional omegas, Alastor isn’t the type to submit easily. He’s highly independent and will only let someone take the lead if he fully trusts them or sees it as an advantage.

Duality of Nature: Alastor’s omega instincts are an odd mix of gentleness and unpredictability. While he can be nurturing and affectionate (very rarely does he show this trait) his bursts of anger or overwhelming presence can create a chaotic atmosphere, making him hard to predict.

Omegaverse-Specific Traits

Unusual Scent: Alastor’s scent is haunting—he smells like nature with a hint of sweet decay. It draws people in, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it. His scent changes depending on his mood, becoming sharper or more alluring during moments of intense emotion.

Intense Heat Cycles: His heats are marked by an almost terrifying intensity, causing Alastor to retreat and act unusually vulnerable for a brief period. While he might put on a brave face, his instincts fight against his pride, and he can’t help but seek out a safe, secure space to weather through the cycle (such as secluding himself in a hidden cellar and will restrain himself so not to make noise or let anyone know he’s an omega). Alastor will also abuse heat suppressants in the attempt to quell his heats but also hide his omega status.

Hidden Vulnerability: While Alastor is often seen as a domineering figure, his omega instincts make him deeply sensitive to rejection or neglect. He hides this weakness well, but it occasionally shows in moments of quiet isolation. It’s why he puts a wall up and rarely trusts anyone.

Relationship Dynamics

With an Alpha: Alastor might not openly admit it, but he craves a bond with a strong alpha who understands and accepts his complexity. His ideal alpha would be one who can match his energy, perhaps someone who challenges him, but also respects his independence.

Pack Mentality: While he doesn’t display this side often, Alastor would be fiercely protective of those he considers part of his "pack." He’s highly territorial, and any threat to his allies or his domain would trigger his more protective, aggressive instincts.

Rare Moments of Affection: Alastor doesn’t show his omega side easily, but with someone he trusts, he becomes more affectionate. His gestures are subtle—brushing up against them or sharing his personal space in rare moments.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️ Part 2

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

That Old Black Magic by Glen Miller

🎙️ “Oh, I do love a good bit of drama, don’t you? There’s a spell that lingers in the air, my friends. Something intoxicating, a force that binds you, twists you, and refuses to let go. That old black magic is creeping in, and once it has you in its grasp, well, let’s just say... you’ll never be quite the same again.”🎙️

🎶That old black magic has me in its spell 

that old black magic that you weave so well🎵

Alastor's fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of his glass as Vox launched into yet another self-aggrandizing anecdote. 

The supper club's jazz quartet provided a soothing counterpoint to the alpha's grating voice, their mellow tones a balm to Alastor's fraying nerves.

"...and that's when I told the network executives, 'Gentlemen, the future of entertainment is television!'" Vox boomed, slapping the table for emphasis.

Alastor's painted-on smile never wavered.

 "How fascinating," he purred, the words tasting like syrup on his tongue—and this omega hated sweets.

If only the fool would shut up long enough for Alastor to excuse himself to the powder room.

He took a delicate sip of the ludicrously colored drink he’d been given. Vox’s good sense to pick The Red Horizon club did not extend to his selection of cocktail, and his personality left much to be desired. 

He didn’t have taste. Just flash with no substance. 

But…The omega agency had certainly matched Alastor with worse prospects.

"Of course, someone in your position couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of my work," Vox continued, oblivious to Alastor's disinterest. 

The omega felt a record scratching inside his brain and his temper flair.

He knew the intricacies of entertaining, and he knew them well. Not that anyone knew him for his work in radio.

The last time he attempted to mention it to Vox, he got offered a job— as the man’s ‘cute little secretary.’

Over his dead body.

"Oh, I'm sure that's true," Alastor murmured to appease the alpha, and keep him talking while the omega rested his chin on his hand. His gaze drifted across the dimly lit room, settling on the now familiar figure at the bar like a reprieve.

The blonde alpha was staring again, golden eyes fixed on Alastor with an intensity that sent an invisible shiver down his spine.

Alastor was no stranger to hungry alpha gazes, but this...this was different. There was a pull there, a black magic he couldn't quite name.

Absently, the omega traced the rim of his glass with one elegant finger. 

The crystal sang softly, a faint counterpoint to his date’s endless droning.

"Are you even listening to me?" Vox snapped, jolting Alastor from his reverie.

"But of course, darling," Alastor lied smoothly. "Please, do go on. I'm simply enthralled by your tales of corporate conquest."

As Vox launched into another self-important story, Alastor's attention drifted once more to the mysterious alpha in the leather jacket. Their eyes met across the crowded room, and Alastor felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the little bit of liquor.

🎶Those icy fingers up and down my spine,

The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.🎵

The blonde alpha's golden eyes widened, as if he'd heard the soft chime of Alastor's glass from across the crowded room. 

Ridiculous, of course—the band was in full swing, couples twirling across the dance floor. And yet…those eyes held Alastor captive, warm and earnest in a way that made his breath catch.

A genuine smile tugged at Alastor's lips, unbidden. For a moment, the rest of the world faded away.

🎵That old black magic that you weave so well 🎶

"Ahem." Vox's pointed cough shattered the spell. "I said, don't you agree?"

Alastor blinked, realizing he'd been caught, again. He poured on the charm, leaning in with practiced interest. "Oh absolutely, my dear. Your insight is simply unparalleled."

Vox preened, but his satisfaction was short-lived. He twisted in his seat, following Alastor's previous line of sight. 

The rough-looking alpha quickly averted his gaze, suddenly fascinated by his empty glass.

“"I see.” Turning back, Vox's lips curled in distaste. “Perhaps if you'd chosen a more demure outfit, you wouldn't be drawing such tawdry attention."

“Oh? Whatever could you mean by that Vox?” Alastor's smile didn't waver, though something cold settled in his stomach as he simpered. "Why, I was ever so mindful to dress nicely for our evening out," he purred, voice dripping with honeyed charm. "After all, you were kind enough to share your…opinions on my wardrobe choices with the social worker after our first two dates."

Inwardly, Alastor seethed. 

Such was the lot of an unmated omega in this alpha-dominated world—constantly scrutinized, constantly judged. He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his perfectly tailored vest, thinking bitterly of the hoops he'd jumped through to meet Vox's exacting standards.

Before the dark-haired alpha could respond, a waiter rematerialized at their table. "Good evening, gentlemen. Are you ready to order?"

"Ah, yes," Vox said, puffing up importantly. "I'll have the filet mignon, rare, with the truffle reduction." He barely glanced at Alastor before continuing, "And for the omega, perhaps the poached salmon salad? I’m sure you want to be mindful of your figure, after all."

Alastor's smile became brittle, though his voice remained light. "How thoughtful of you, darling." His stomach growled in protest, mourning the loss of a proper meal. 

These arranged dates were half about the food, after all—a way to indulge beyond his usual means.

As the waiter departed, Alastor sipped his drink, thinking longingly of the hearty gumbo he could have made for a fraction of the price of this overpriced lettuce. 

But needs must be met, he supposed. At least the music was decent.

🎵I should stay away, but what can I do?🎵

Alastor's gaze drifted to the new frilly cocktail Vox had ordered for him, a saccharine concoction topped with a plump maraschino cherry. 

A treat, the alpha had said—Alastor would rather a dry red wine. Since he wasn’t allowed his whiskey.

With deliberate grace, he plucked the fruit from his glass, bringing it to his lips. As he did so, his eyes wandered across the room, seeking out the blonde alpha at the bar.

Their eyes locked just as Alastor bit down, the cherry's sweetness popping across his tongue. 

He held the alpha's gleaming gaze…just restraining himself from tying the stem in a knot with his tongue. That would be laying it on a bit thick, wouldn’t it?

🎵Darling, down and down I go, 

round and round I go 🎶

"I must say, your network's latest programming schedule is simply fascinating," Alastor sighed, seamlessly returning his attention to Vox. "Do tell me more about your fall lineup."

Vox preened, oblivious to Alastor's wandering attention. 

"Well, since you asked..." He launched into a detailed monologue about ratings and demographics.

As the waiter set down their meals, Vox paused his vainglorious speech. "I'm glad you're not eating too heavily tonight, dear. I'm quite looking forward to showing you off on the dance floor later." Vox leered.

Alastor suppressed a shudder, imagining Vox's grabby hands pawing at him under the guise of dancing.

 "Oh? How lovely," he lied smoothly. "But surely you were about to tell me about that thrilling new game show concept?"

Vox's eyes lit up, and Alastor settled in for another interminable story, his mind already calculating how long he could delay the inevitable groping on the dance floor.

♫ ♫ ♫

As the last morsel of food disappeared from their plates, Alastor dabbed at his lips with his napkin, his mind racing for an excuse to postpone the dreaded dance. 

A flash of inspiration struck, and he turned to Vox with a carefully crafted smile.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, darling," Alastor cooed, rising gracefully from his seat. "I simply must freshen up"

Vox waved him off. "Don't be too long, sweetheart. I'm eager to…show off my moves."

Oh, Alastor could not begin to explain how he was not Vox’s sweetheart.

Alastor's smile tightened imperceptibly as he glided away from the table, his steps measured and unhurried despite his desire to put distance between himself and his boorish date. 

As he passed the hostess stand, a thought occurred to him.

Pausing, he leaned in conspiratorially to the Peter, the club host. "Pardon me, but I couldn't help but notice the gentleman at the bar. Might you know who he is?"

He might expect the smiling blonde beta’s face to light up with gossip-fueled glee, but instead, it soured. "Oh, him? That's Lucifer. He's a friend of our cook.” Peter leaned close. “I wouldn’t let yourself be tempted—you can judge that apple by its skin.” 

The omega kept from shooting a scowl at the boldness of the beta—this was not the place or the time. 

Though, from here, he could see what Peter meant. The skin of the blonde alpha’s forearms held more ink than the Sunday paper.  

"Lucifer," Alastor murmured, savoring the name on his tongue. A sudden warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading through his veins like liquid fire. 

He'd never felt anything quite like it before.

🎵 I hear your name and I’m aflame.

Aflame with such a burning desire. 🎵

Alastor barely had time to settle back into the plush booth before Vox's meaty hand clamped around his wrist. The alpha's eyes glinted with a possessive hunger that made Alastor's skin crawl.

"Come on, dollface. Time to show you off," Vox growled, yanking the omega to his feet.

Alastor's smile strained as he stumbled after the alpha. "My, aren't we eager?" he quipped, trying to maintain his composure.

Vox's grip tightened as he jerked Alastor close. "You bet I am. Been waiting all night for this."

As the band struck up a lively foxtrot, Alastor found himself desperately trying to find his footing. 

He was an excellent dancer. Being a tall omega meant he often lead others of his designation and female betas while the men and alphas were off to war. 

Alastor could finesse any partner.

But Vox's movements were erratic and forceful, completely at odds with the music's rhythm. Each time Alastor attempted to fall into step, Vox would drag him in another direction.

The oaf wouldn't know rhythm if it bit him in his oversized head. 

The brunette longed to take the lead, to show this buffoon how it was really done. But societal expectations chained him to this farce of a dance.

"Isn't this great?" Vox bellowed, oblivious to Alastor's discomfort. "You're lucky to have such a talented dance partner."

Alastor's smile twisted into something closer to a sneer. "Oh yes," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm positively overwhelmed by your... enthusiasm."

As Vox continued to manhandle him around the floor, Alastor's contempt grew. 

His eyes darted around the room, seeking an escape—or at least a distraction. They landed on the bar, where a pair of golden eyes met his own. 

 🎵The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine🎶

Vox's hand slid lower down his back, yanking Alastor flush against him. 

The omega's nose wrinkled at the alpha's overpowering cologne as Vox's hips ground against him in a vulgar parody of what should be done on a dance floor.

"Now this is more like it," Vox purred, his breath hot on Alastor's ear. "You know, as this is our third date,”

“So it is,” the omega said, hiding the wariness in his tone with a lilting tease.

“So.” Vox blundered over the beat of the music. “ I've got certain…expectations."

Alastor stiffened, his lips holding no hint of a smile. He leaned back, trying to put some distance between them. 

"My dear fellow, I believe there's been a misunderstanding. The matchmaker was quite clear about your preferences for an unmated—"

"Untouched," Vox interrupted, his grin predatory. "And why do you think that is, doll?”

Alastor's eyes widened, his carefully crafted facade cracking.

"I…I beg your pardon?" He stammered, genuinely caught off guard for the first time in years. His mind raced, searching for a way to extricate himself from this increasingly uncomfortable situation without causing a scene. “I’ve no idea what you could possibly be implying.”

“Oh, don’t play like that, a male omega can’t play coy.” Vox huffed, forgetting the pretense of a dance as his pawing hands held Alastor. “I want to be the one to plant the first flag, if you catch my drift."

Alastor pushed against Vox's chest, but barely escaped an inch. "I'm afraid I'm not interested in that sort of…arrangement, sir. Perhaps we should call it a night?"

Vox's grip tightened, his expression darkening. "Not so fast, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how much I spent on dinner? On this whole evening?" He leaned in, alcohol-laced breath hot against Alastor's cheek. "You owe me something for my trouble."

A flicker of genuine anger flashed in Alastor's eyes, quickly masked behind his practiced smile. 

The audacity of this utter buffoon.

"Now, Vox," Alastor said, voice dripping with false sweetness, "I don't recall agreeing to any form of transaction. Surely a gentleman such as yourself—"

His words were cut short as Vox's hand suddenly grabbed his ass. 

Alastor froze, eyes wide with shock and indignation. His mind reeled, searching for a way to salvage the situation without compromising his carefully cultivated image.

Though he longed to show yet another entitled alpha what he was capable of. 

But he hesitated, acutely aware of the eyes upon them, of the delicate social balance he had to maintain. 

For a moment, Alastor found himself truly at a loss, his usual wit and charm failing him in the face of such brazen disrespect.

Just as Alastor's composure threatened to crack, a ringing voice cut through the tension.

 "Pardon me, gentlemen. Might I cut in?"

Before either could respond, a blonde figure slid between them, deftly maneuvering Alastor away from Vox's grasp and into his own. Alastor found himself whisked onto the dance floor, guided by sure hands and twinkling golden eyes.

🎶Cause you’re the lover I have waited for.

The mate that fate had me created for. 🎵

"Lucifer," the alpha introduced himself with a roguish wink. "I hope you don't mind the interruption."

The omega’s relief was palpable, though he masked it with a coy smile. "Not at all," Alastor' sighed gratefully. "Though I’m afraid I must protest when we are caught by my proper date—as a matter of principle."

“Whatever ya need, doll.” Lucifer grinned, falling easily into step with his new partner.

“My name is Alastor.” the taller man  corrected, caution moderating his tone, knowing his history of putting boundaries before alphas and how they reacted.

Lucifer just smiled, and said. “Whatever ya need, Alastor.”

And just like that, this pint-sized alpha earned his first genuine smile of the night as he stole the omega away.

🎵Under that old black magic called love🎵

🎙️ “Care to dance, darlings? Up next, ‘Sway’ by Dean Martin will leave you breathless.” 🎙️

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

[lilacwriter07]

So I believe Omega Alastor should be a tag ✨👀✨ I love my Omega characters feral and lovely at the same time, Alastor seems like a great Omega .

Looking so bloody feral in his nest as he purrs 🤤💨💖

[worldofkuro]

Hey !

I was wondering, how your Painted Smile series would turned out in a Omegaverse? I'm so curious, Alastor is already obssesed with the reader, so imagine if he as an Alpha and the redar an Omega. And When they were children, nesting together ! Growing up with the tension between their two dyanmics >///< Please, please ?

Oh, how nostalgic !I don’t remember the last time I wrote something about Alpha & Omega content. But do you wish for death? Asking for an Alpha!Alastor..? Do tell, if you want a part2, it would be interesting to do.

Well, well, I can see Alastor’s father being an Alpha and his mother an Omega. He could see how his mother hurted from the bond his father forced upon her. He hated it. Being controlled by his instincts seems horrible.  He couldn’t lie to himself, he always loved his mother purring to smooth his nerves but hearing his father's growl would always make him tense.

He wished to be a beta. From what he read, they weren’t really affected by pheromones and could live their life like they wanted. He wanted that, he envied that.

And that’s when he first met you. You were such a happy annoying girl, being the perfect girl. He would scoff at you but as you know how the story goes, he will start to care for you as his special person. 

He would frown when he heard both of your mothers talk about how amazing it would be if you and Alastor turned out to be an Omega and an Alpha. He didn’t wish this upon you, you were his special person, he didn't want you to be weak to pheromones. 

You always made a nest on his bed, you wanted him to be able to sleep peacefully, so you always did your best to make it fluffy and cozy. You would take a nap together, feeling at peace.

When you first gave him Eamon, his mother teased him, saying it was maybe a courting gift but Alastor just laughed. You weren’t like this, and so was he. 

He turned into an Alpha around 11 years old. He couldn’t go out because of all the smell and noise he could feel. And furthermore, when you came to him because you were worried, he almost salivated because of how sweet you smell. He hated it, he was being controlled by something stronger than himself.

But you helped him, through all those new experiences, making him feel safe with you which almost made him forget he was an Alpha.

But when you turned to be an Omega, when you were maybe around 14, it was something much more unbearable for him.

First of all, you went into heat.

If you went into heat one day, in a public place, Alastor would snarl at any Alpha round and carry you, running to your house. He knew you would be safe there.

 He would come see you, wanting to be the one caring for you, like you did for him. But when he entered your house, all he could smell was your divine scent that seemed to invite him into your  bedroom. Thank God, your mother calmed him down and asked Alastor not to come until you were feeling okay again.

He would sneak to see you, staying in front of your window, never opening it. He was so scared of what he could do if he smelled you once more. 

You would whine, asking for him to hug you but Alastor would never break, staring at you through the windows.

When you felt better, there was a whole new tension between the two of you. Both of you would get very protective of the other. Someone touched Alastor, you could put your scent on you, saying he was smelling bad and he should be grateful you were here.

Alastor would let you scent him whenever you wanted, doing the same for you. In the beginning, the two of you wouldn’t know the meaning behind the scenting. It’s when Alice told you it was something a courting pair would do to show everyone you were courting someone. 

You almost exploded when you heard that news. DId everyone think you and Alastor were courting ? How embarrassing ! .. And yet, you liked that thought..

[l4zyb0n35]

I always feel like that bitch whenever a fanfic writer i follow and get inspo from likes my post. It’s like winning an Emmy.

[artofhazbinhotel]

I did something I find HILARIOUS, I assigned hazbin hotel characters omegaverse roles, you're welcome

Charlie- omega

Vaggie- beta

Alastor- beta

Rosie- beta

Cherri- alpha

Sir pentious- omega

Angel- omega

Husk- beta

Niffty- alpha

Lucifer- omega

Lilith- alpha

Valentino- beta

Vox- omega

Velvette- alpha

Lute- alpha

Adam- beta

Saint Peter- omega

[prince-liest]

In your omegaverse insecure beta Vox AU, would Vox have pretended to be an omega if Alastor was an alpha? Or would his internalized whatever not allow him to do that?

He would probably have pretended even harder to be an alpha. Most of his desire to present as an alpha isn't specifically to be the societally ideal partner for Alastor - it's to present himself as a societally ideal powerful man.

Alastor being an omega who is so effortlessly powerful grates but is something Vox is able to dismiss to a certain extent because as an omega Alastor isn't even really in the game of trying to attain acceptable alpha-hood (which has significant overlap with toxic masculinity and the persistent pressure for people to prove themselves as worthy of their own gender), but Alastor being an alpha who is still effortlessly powerful despite clearly putting little to no effort into the particular kind of showboating that Vox has to engage in to feel like he's even starting to "do it right" would just make Vox feel even more insecure standing next to him.

It would probably just shift his psychosexual obsession with Alastor from "I am going to dominate you beause that's what a real alpha does to omegas" to "I am going to dominate you to prove that I'm better at being an alpha." Cue wildly oscillating between trying to emasculate Alastor for not trying very hard to align with what Vox thinks makes a real alpha, and being frustrated that Alastor is so secure in himself despite not even trying.

[otsmosis]

ohdeercoffee does it again, this time with their fic, Fully Booked.

[lu-lus-dicks]

You deserve a kitty too baby

(I am terrible drawing on my phone and don't have my drawing tablet, so it's not the best <3)

He's beautiful! he deserves the world <3 would eat him

[romanaxe]

Volunteer Opportunity

Alastor knows what it means to be patient, but it was getting just a little bit ridiculous at this point. The entire hotel was beginning to smell sickly sweet and Charlie has yet to retire to her rooms and save them all from the scent of her preheat.

But it's not her scent filling his lungs so pleasantly. It's Lucifer’s.

[Gift for Seraphine1929! Part of the RadioApple Winter Holiday Exchange]

[thief-of-eggs]

*crawls into your ask* OK SO! How do they figure out they are mates?! IS IT SOULMATE MARKS?! Does Alastor find the mark of the devil on his skin after their first meeting?!??! Does Lucifer think Al is an alpha at first bc of the way he challenges him but then one night during conversation he's like "I SENSE A DISTURBANCE IN THE FORCE" and woops, a little peak into Al's soul and he's like WAIT YOU'RE MY MATE?!

Hello Hello!!!

Ok ok so I know every omegaverse is different, but for mine I like to think along the terms of soul-bond, which I think would become apparent through any form of close connection. Almost like a pack I guess, but they just know deep down that this is their mate, no questions about it.

Scent has a lot to do with it too- eachother’s scent causes the other to react much stronger than other alphas and omegas

And also, I think just a bit of free will!! They chose eachother. No need for official mating, no need for anything Alastor is uncomfortable with. They can just sense it, when they’re around eachother. Because Lucifer is wanting to protect and shelter him, and Alastor (despite himself) is wanting to receive the shelter and protection

ALSO YES!!! I firmly believe Alastor was masquerading as an Alpha before. For a demon overlord, it’s just what everyone would expect- not to mention, he’d have much more control over his own autonomy by being an Alpha. No one would expect him to find a mate- he could just exist.

And then, ya know. During the challenging between them both, Lucifer felt something different hovering between them. He chalked it up to how long he’d been away from others, how out of touch he’s been- but then he starts to get these urges (especially after the fight with adam!!! knowing alastor got injured by the other alpha caused something inside lucifer to snap) and he’s suddenly wanting to growl at anyone who gets too close to Alastor, wanting to heal him, help him, protect him.

And Alastor, for his part, is equally dumbfounded- because suddenly he’s wanting to nest, he’s wanting to be scented, he’s wanting to curl up and share body heat

So yeah!!! I’d say it’s mostly just the sudden shift in their natural desires that does it for them, in a sort of soul-bond kind of way 🥰

[scented-sin]

🦉 Does Alastor enjoy a solitary nest, or does he prefer a more communal one with his pack?

Bunny: Alastor would definitely prefer to have a solitary nest! He sees being in a nest as a sign of vulnerability and he uses his “nesting” time to destress from the day. His nests are also similar to a deer’s den so they’re just big and cozy enough for himself.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

The Melody Between Us~ Part 1

RadioApple (+ Static) 🍃 Explicit 🍃Omega!Alastor /Alpha!Lucifer

🍃Rough🍃 Bratting ~ 6.8k

A/N: Happy Christmas~ Also, I might have slightly over done this...but I don't usually do rough stuff without more...communication? IDK just enjoy XD

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics❣️BlueSky❣️

The cacophony of Pentagram City's streets parted like the Red Sea as Alastor strode through, his crimson suit a splash of blood against the grimy backdrop.

Demons scurried out of his path, their eyes wide with a delicious cocktail of fear and awe that made a smirk play at the corners of his mouth.

"Good day, my dear fellows!" Alastor's voice crackled with radio static as he tipped his head to a group of cowering imps. They flinched at his acknowledgment, and he chuckled. "Why so glum? It's a beautiful day in Hell!"

His gaze swept over the crowd, noting the way they averted their eyes, how they hunched their shoulders as if to make themselves smaller targets.

It was intoxicating, this power he wielded. With each step, he felt more like the predator he presented himself to be.

And yet…

The crowd's fearful whispers faded into white noise as Alastor's mind turned inward. The dirty little secret he'd guarded for decades, threatened to unravel everything he'd built.

The vaunted Radio Demon, was an omega.

And omegas did not do well in Hell.

Alastor's lip curled in disgust, though outwardly his grin remained fixed.

He’d made the most of his eternal damnation. Seized power at every chance he had it. Aligned himself with the most powerful beings in the Ring of Pride. Carefully cultivated the image of power and control.

But…even Alastor couldn’t escape the torment of the afterlife. Beneath the glamour that hid his omega scent and the suit and coat he wore like armor, the demon that despised being handled was soft and inviting.

His biology demanded to be touched, to be had, by an alpha no less.

The heat cycles were a curse, a reminder of a vulnerability he refused to acknowledge.

Having a week of heat in spring was terrible enough as a human. But his personal torment had been amplified in death. The deer demon suffered heat for two days a month, for three months during his season.

Making the proud overlord into a whimpering, cloying whore, desperate for a knot.

An affront to everything Alastor presented himself as.

The price of power was eternal vigilance, and Alastor knew that one slip, one moment of weakness, could bring his carefully constructed world crashing down around him.

A bead of sweat trickled down the omega’s temple, and he quickly wiped it away with a red silk handkerchief, staring at the cloth like it personally insulted him.

His smile tightened, a hint of strain creeping into the corners of his eyes.

Not here. Not now.

A nearby demon sniffed the air curiously, and Alastor's eyes flashed dangerously.

"What are you looking at?" he snarled, his antlers elongating menacingly.

The demon yelped and scurried away.

Alastor's thoughts drifted unbidden to Vox as he ducked into an alley, scaring the riffraff out of his way. That insufferable television overlord. The omega’s lip curled in disgust, but a tremor of need rippled through him.

Pompus, preening, little peacock of an alpha—but the arrangement was necessary. A means to an end. Nothing more.

Alastor was unwilling to finish the thought even in his own mind.

Going to Vox—his rival, his lesser—was humiliating. The flathead made sure it was so. And Alastor could do nothing. Lest his secret be revealed. Lest…Vox stop giving him what he needed.

Alastor did not want to need him.

Maybe this time, he could manage on his own. Just spare his pride a little longer…

But as another wave of heat washed over him, Alastor's resolve faltered. He paused, leaning against a grimy wall, his breath coming in short gasps.

With a herculean effort, Alastor pushed himself upright, plastered on his signature grin, and continued down the street, each step a battle against his own biology.

As Alastor rounded a corner, a familiar voice cut through the din of Pentagram City.

"Hey there, Smiles! Fancy meetin' you here," Angel Dust called out.

Alastor's eyes narrowed, taking in the scene before him. Angel was surrounded by a group of leering demons, their catcalls and crude gestures making their intentions clear. As if cornering the most well known omega in this Ring weren’t enough

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned his microphone staff. "Gentlemen," he purred, his voice laced with menace as he tilted his head, pupils turning to spinning dials, "I suggest you find your entertainment elsewhere."

The demons scattered, leaving Angel alone with Alastor.

"Aw, you do care," Angel teased, batting his eyelashes. "How about a thank you kiss, hot stuff?"

Alastor's grin tightened.

"My dear Angel, your attempts at flirtation are as misguided as they are unwelcome. Perhaps you should aim your affections at someone more…receptive to your charms."

Angel snorted. "What's the matter, Smiles? Afraid you can't handle a real omega?"

A surge of heat coursed through Alastor's body, his composure slipping for a fraction of a second. He gripped to his staff, forcing himself upright.

"Handle? My dear, I could obliterate you with a mere thought. Your crude advances are beneath me, as is your very existence."

“Big talk from someone who looks like they're about to swoon.” Angel's confident smirk faltered. But the look of concern that crossed his mismatched eyes was more insulting than his flirtations. "You feelin' alright there, Radio Demon?"

Fuck. Was his condition that obvious?

"I assure you, I am in perfect health," Alastor said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to than entertaining your delusions of adequacy."

How much longer could he maintain this facade? The heat was intensifying, threatening to overwhelm him at any moment.

The streets of Hell had never seemed so long, so daunting. Each step was a battle against his own nature, a fight he feared he might soon lose.

Alastor paused at a street corner, his ever-present smile fixed in place as he surveyed the scene before him.

Demons of all shapes and sizes scurried about, their eyes darting nervously in his direction before quickly averting their gaze. A satisfying tremor rippled through the crowd as he took a single step forward.

It never did get old.

“Mr. Radio Demon, sir" a brave or foolish demon ventured, "is there anything you need?"

Alastor turned, his eyes glowing with barely contained power. "What I need," he purred, "is for you to mind your own business. Unless you'd like to become my next broadcast?

As the demon fled, Alastor's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead.

"Not yet," Alastor muttered, straightening his bowtie. "I won't give him the satisfaction. I am the Radio Demon, and I bow to no one, least of all my own biology."

With renewed determination, Alastor stepped back into the flow of foot traffic, ignoring the burning sensation coursing through his body. He would endure. He had to.

A passerby, emboldened by liquor or stupidity, called out, "Hey, Radio Demon! You're looking a little flushed there. Everything alright?"

Alastor's head snapped around, his grin stretching to manic proportions.

"My dear fellow," he said, his voice dripping with honey-coated venom, "I assure you, I've never felt better. Though I can't say the same for you in about five seconds."

As the foolish demon's screams faded into the distance, Alastor allowed himself a moment of quiet pride.

He was still in control, omega status be damned.

Let them wonder.

The omega straightened his posture and continuing his walk.

Let them fear.

He was the Radio Demon. He would not be defined by his biology, or the expectations of anyone else.

With each step, Alastor reaffirmed his resolve.

The heat could rage, Vox could wait, and Hell itself could burn. Alastor would remain master of his own destiny, no matter the cost.

The show must go on.

🍃

Lucifer's eye twitched as another crash echoed through the hotel lobby. He turned, unsurprised to see Alastor's grinning face peering over a shattered vase, feigning innocence.

"Oops," Alastor drawled, his radio-tinged voice grating on Lucifer's last nerve. "How clumsy of me."

This had been going on for days now. Alastor wasn't just being his usual abrasive self—he was actively causing chaos, like a cat desperate for attention. Lucifer's patience was wearing thin.

"Alastor," Lucifer said, his voice deceptively calm. "A word, if you please."

“Yes, sire? Is something pressing on your mind?” The demon smirked, casually leaning an arm against a nearby short bookshelf—an obvious threat to the kitschy little happy clown figurine atop it.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly.

"Yeah, you.” The angel snapped, realizing what he said only when the demon’s eyebrows arched. “I mean, not what I—you’re pressing on my last nerve.”

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Alastor's eyes widened in mock surprise, his grin stretching impossibly wider. He twirled his microphone staff, narrowly missing another piece of Charlie’s, admittedly questionable, decor.

Yes, Lucifer could fix it with a snap. Without breaking a sweat. But it was the principle of it.

He was here to support his daughter, not sweep up after Bambi.

"Oh, I don't know," Lucifer drawled, gesturing dramatically. "Maybe it's the trail of destruction you've left in your wake. The shattered chandeliers in the ballroom, the 'accidental' flood in the east wing, or maybe it's the fact that you've somehow managed to turn all the paintings upside down."

Alastor chuckled, a staticky sound that sent shivers down the spines of nearby hotel guests. "Why, I'm simply livening up the place!" Alastor's eyes gleamed with mischief. "It was getting dreadfully dull around here."

Lucifer felt a vein pulsing in his forehead. “Believe it or not, this place doesn’t exist solely to entertain you.”

"Obviously, as it’s failing entirely." The demon huffed, folding his hands atop his staff. “Unless, you have other suggestions for…entertainment.” Alastor purred, sidling closer to Lucifer. "I thought you enjoyed a little…chaos now and then."

"There's chaos, and then there's whatever game you're playing.” The air crackled with tension as Lucifer met Alastor's gaze. “And I don't appreciate being toyed with."

"Toyed with?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave, his eyes glowing dangerously. "I assure you, if I were toying with you, you'd know it."

“Careful, Bambi,” Lucifer felt his lips pulling back over his teeth. To snarl or to smirk, even he didn’t know. “That threat almost sounded like you were flirting.”

“You’ll find I am perfectly capable of doing both,” Alastor countered, leaning in close enough that Lucifer could feel the static emanating from him.

Lucifer felt more crackling tension, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if it was from Alastor's proximity or his own sudden realization.

Was Alastor flirting with him?

The Radio Demon had always been an enigma, his true intentions shrouded in layers of showmanship and misdirection. But now, with barely an inch between them, the hunger was unmistakable—and it mirrored his own.

Struggling to maintain his composure, Lucifer cleared his throat. "Well, I, uh," he said, aiming for nonchalance but missing by a mile. "I never took you for the type, to proposition a guy out of the—”

“Your majesty, you sell yourself short.” Alastor he purred, his voice a low, static-laced rumble. "And there is so much you don't know about me."

Lucifer felt his face grow warm with a golden blush, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a century. He fumbled for words, trying to find a way to ask what he really wanted to know without sounding like a complete fool. "I…that is to say…are you more of a…leader or a follower, typically?"

Alastor threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the lobby like a discordant symphony. When he looked back at Lucifer, his eyes were gleaming with amusement and something darker, more primal.

"Oh, you’re far too ancient to be so precious about this," he cooed, running a clawed finger along Lucifer's jawline. "It might make one think…that you can’t keep up."

“I’m not being precious.” Lucifer snapped back, ignoring the way he shivered at that claw running along his skin. “And I can take whatever you can dish out.”

Alastor leaned in close, his lips brushing against Lucifer's ear. "Then I suggest you hurry up and make a move, darling," he whispered, his breath hot against Lucifer's skin. “Before you bore me.”

“Bore you?” Lucifer's eyes flashed with a mix of irritation and desire. “Oh, you have no idea what you're in for, sinner.”

Not to brag, but he was the sin of pride for a reason. And he’d had eons of practice over Alastor.

Alastor chuckled, a tuneless sound that sent shivers down Lucifer's spine. "My, my. Such confidence. I do hope you can back it up, darling."Alastor straightened up, brushing off his lapel with an irritating air of nonchalance.

“Well, quit talking and start walking.” Lucifer folded his arms.

Alastor's grin took on a predatory edge. "I believe the music room on the third floor is currently unoccupied."

"Lead the way, Bambi."

Alastor's eyes glowed with mischief. "Oh, but where's the fun in that?" In a blink, he dissolved into shadows, his laughter echoing through the lobby as he vanished.

“Creepy show-off," Lucifer muttered, rolling his eyes. With a snap of his fingers, a swirling golden portal materialized before him. He stepped through, emerging in the opulent music room just as Alastor's shadows coalesced.

Lucifer flicked the doors shut, locking them with a decisive click.

As Alastor moved to sit in one of the high-backed chairs, those gorgeously long legs primly crossed, his usual bravado seemed to falter for a moment. His nostrils flared, and Lucifer noticed a slight tremor in the demon's hands as he vanished his staff.

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a hint of strain around his eyes.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Here we are at last. An alpha and an omega, all alone in this cozy little room." He cocked his head, his smile never wavering. "What ever shall we do?"

Lucifer's brow furrowed in confusion. "What…?"

“Oh, come on,” Alastor chuckled, though there was an edge to his laughter. “Don’t play reticent with me now.”

And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit Lucifer. His eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. "Wait, you said…you're…an omega?"

As the words left his mouth, Lucifer found himself reassessing everything he thought he knew about the Radio Demon.

“Surprise,” The demon said in that sing-song, mocking tone that lilted into a laugh. “I told you, there is so much you do not know about me.”

Alastor seemed to preen under Lucifer’s slack-jawed stare, giving a coquettish tilt of his head to rest his chin on his red-tipped fingers.

The fallen angel found himself noticing details he'd overlooked before.

He'd always assumed it was just Alastor’s style to be covered from neck to wrist to ankle. That the sharpness of the shoulders of that coat, the tapered waist, and the impeccably tailored suits. Were an omega’s curves hidden under all those layers?

The sharp angles of Alastor's face, his commanding presence—all of it designed to deflect attention from his true nature.

Lucifer thought back to the way Alastor moved, the graceful sway of his hips that he'd always attributed to the demon's showmanship.

Now, he saw it for what it truly was—the unconscious allure of an omega, even one as controlled as Alastor.

The Radio Demon's aversion to touch, his carefully maintained personal space—it all made sense now.

Lucifer's gaze traveled over Alastor's form, seeing him in an entirely new light.

The demon's slender neck, usually hidden behind his high collar, now seemed delicate and enticing. His wrists, peeking out from crisp cuffs, looked almost fragile.

Even Alastor's antlers, usually a symbol of dominance, now appeared to Lucifer as an omega's clever mimicry of alpha traits.

The way Alastor's chest rose and fell with each breath, slightly quicker now than usual. The faint flush creeping up his neck, barely visible against his gray skin.

The subtle scent in the air—spicy and sweet, like cinnamon and honey—that Lucifer now recognized as the first hints of an omega's arousal.

The playful banter, the casual touches that Alastor both sought out and shied away from—it all took on new meaning.

He remembered the times when Alastor had seemed particularly agitated or withdrawn, wondering now if those had been the demon's heat cycles, carefully hidden from the world.

Lucifer's alpha instincts, long dormant, stirred to life.

He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to protect and possess, to claim the omega before him. The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with pheromones and possibility.

Yet beneath the desire, Lucifer felt a twinge of something else—respect, perhaps even admiration.

For Alastor to have risen to such power in Hell, to have cultivated such a fearsome reputation while hiding his true nature—it was no small feat.

"I gotta say," Lucifer said slowly, still processing this new information, "I'm impressed."

Alastor's grin widened, a marauding glint in his eyes. "Oh, you flatter me, your majesty," he purred, deliberately taking his time to uncross those sinfully long legs and stand. "But tell me, now that you know…does it change things?" His voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "Does it make you want to…put me in my place?"

Lucifer felt his fists clenching at his sides.

The taunt was clear, Alastor's intention unmistakable. Part of him, the alpha part, growled with the desire to do exactly that. To show this insolent omega who was really in charge.

"Listen, Alastor," Lucifer warned, his voice low. "You're playing a dangerous game here, messing with my instincts."

"Am I?" Alastor challenged, circling Lucifer like a shark. "Or is that exactly what I intend to do?"

Lucifer's jaw tightened. He was tempted, oh so tempted, to give Alastor exactly what he was asking for. To pin him against the wall and—

No.

Lucifer shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

He barely knew Alastor beyond his role as Charlie's business partner. He wasn't about to engage in some hate-fueled encounter just because the Radio Demon was pushing his buttons.

Alastor's eyes glowed with mischief as he sidled closer to Lucifer, his hips swaying hypnotically.

"Oh come now, your majesty," he purred, voice dripping with honey-sweet venom. "Surely you're not going to deny us both what we clearly want?"

He trailed a clawed finger down Lucifer's chest, catching in his vest and pulling him close. "You’ve wanted nothing but to shut me up from the moment we met, " Alastor leaned in close, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "Now’s your chance."

Lucifer swallowed hard, fighting against the urge to grab Alastor and pin him.

"Alastor, we need to talk about this first. I don't even know if you've—"

"Talk?" Alastor scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "How dreadfully dull. I didn't come here for conversation, darling." He pressed his body flush against Lucifer's even as he towered over him.

The angel’s breath hitched, his hands instinctively moving to Alastor's tiny waist. "We can't just—"

"Can't we?" Alastor challenged, nipping at Lucifer's jaw, trying to trigger his alpha instincts. "Are you not the King of Hell? Can you not do as you please?" His voice dropped to a throaty whisper. "And right now, I'm very much hoping it would please you…to fuck me."

Lucifer groaned, his resolve weakening. "Alastor, please. We need to discuss boundaries, expectations—"

With an exasperated sigh, Alastor stepped back. "Why must you insist on being so…pedantic."

Suddenly, the air in the room seemed to shimmer. Alastor's form flickered, like static on an old television, and then—

The scent hit Lucifer like a tidal wave. Rich, intoxicating, unmistakable. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what was happening.

"You're in heat," he gasped, the words barely a whisper.

Alastor's eyes gleamed with a mix of desperation and challenge. "Oh, very astute observation, sire," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And here I thought you might need a written invitation."

Lucifer's eyes widened as the full force of Alastor's heat pheromones hit him. His pupils dilated, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Bambi," he warned, voice strained. "That's not fair."

"All's fair in love and war, darling," Alastor smirked, slowly unbuttoning his own coat. "And I assure you, this is both."

Lucifer shook his head, trying to clear the fog of lust clouding his mind. "We still need to talk about—"

Before he could finish, Alastor surged forward, grabbing Lucifer by the lapels and crashing their lips together in a searing kiss.

It was all teeth and tongue, passionate and demanding.

Alastor poured all his pent-up desire and frustration into the kiss, effectively silencing any further attempts at conversation.

The scent of Alastor's heat was overwhelming, clouding his judgment. He took a step forward, almost involuntarily.

"Alastor, this isn't—"

"What?" Alastor interrupted, his smile sharp. "Proper? Wise? Oh, do spare me the virtuous act, Lucifer. We both know what you want."

With a growl of frustration, Lucifer surged forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. He grabbed Alastor, pulling the taller demon off of his feet, fully intending to push him away, to end this dangerous game.

Instead, he found himself pulling the omega closer.

"Don't," Alastor hissed, even as he pressed against Lucifer, grabbing his shoulders, making the fallen angel pause until he heard the breathless plea, "Don’t you dare treat me like some delicate little flower."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Lucifer's eyes flashed scarlet.

The blonde grabbed the omega’s hands, not letting Alastor get off his knees as he slammed those delicate-looking wrists against the wall.

Alastor seemed to give a token struggle, before letting out a low groan of realization. He had no chance at breaking free of an archangel’s grip.

"Is that what you needed, omega?" Lucifer purred, leaning in close to one of those flicking, fluffy ears. "To be put in your place?"

The rush of slick was immediate and unmistakable. Lucifer inhaled deeply, a primal part of him reveling in Alastor's response.

The alpha’s nose sought the demon’s mating gland, and to his eternal surprise, the omega tilted his head to allow it. Baring his neck. Even if he was still covered up to the chin.

"Tell me, is that what the big bad Radio Demon craves?" he purred, voice low and dangerous. "To feel like your alpha is strong enough to make you submit?"

Alastor shivered in Lucifer’s grip.

“Quit barking.” The omega hissed. “And bite already.”

Lucifer leaned in close, tightening his grip on Alastor's wrists. He latched his teeth around the sensitive skin at the crook of the omega’s neck—not hard enough to pierce the cloth and leave a claiming bite, but the threat was there.

Alastor squirmed at the onslaught, but the omega seemed to forget to resist.

He could feel the deer’s pulse racing beneath his lips, the scent of his heat growing stronger with each passing second.

Their bodies pressed together, the warmth between them almost unbearable. Lucifer's hands slid down Alastor's arms, tracing the lean muscles hidden beneath his scarlet shirt. He gripped Alastor's waist, fingers digging into the fabric, itching to tear it away.

Alastor's antlers scraped against the wall as Lucifer pushed him harder against it, their bodies flush.

The omega's legs wrapped around Lucifer's waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Lucifer growled, the sound reverberating through both their bodies.

Their lips met again, this time in a bruising kiss. Lucifer nipped at Alastor's lower lip, drawing a hiss of pleasure from the demon.

Lucifer’s tongue darted out, seeking entrance, which Alastor gladly granted. Their tongues danced, battling for dominance even as Alastor submitted to Lucifer's hold.

The angel's hands roamed the demon’s body, mapping out every curve and angle. He found the buttons of the omega’s

shirt, fumbling to undo them.More eager to get his hands on bare skin than he was to push that coat off his shoulders.

Alastor arched into his touch.

Finally, Lucifer released his grip on Alastor's wrists, expecting the omega to immediately reach for him.

But to his surprise, Alastor kept his hands where they were, pressed against the wall in abject surrender. The sight sent a jolt of desire through Lucifer.

Their kisses grew more heated, more desperate. Alastor nipped at Lucifer's bottom lip, hard enough that it would have drawn blood from anyone else.

"You can't taste my angel blood just yet, Bambi." Lucifer chided, pulling back slightly.

Alastor groaned, frustration evident in his voice.

"Oh, come now," he taunted, his radio-tinged voice crackling. "Does the great King of Hell intend to make out like a horny schoolboy all night?"

"I was actually debating whether to rip your clothes off or take my time undressing you," he growled, his hands tightening on Alastor's hips. "But if you're so eager…"

For a moment, genuine alarm flashed across Alastor's face. "Not the coat," he said quickly, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Everything else, fine, but not the coat."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, filing away this unexpected tidbit of information for later.

"As you wish," he murmured, popping open the buttons of Alastor’s shirt instead, sending them skittering over the floor.

Lucifer's fingers deftly worked their way down Alastor's shirt, exposing his pale beige chest inch by tantalizing inch.

To his surprise—scars littered Alastor’s chest.

As Lucifer reached the last button, his hand brushed against the obvious bulge in Alastor's trousers.

Without hesitation, Lucifer cupped Alastor through the fabric, squeezing lightly.

In a flash, Alastor's hand shot out, batting Lucifer's touch away. “Don’t.” He hissed.

Lucifer blinked at him—wondering how the hell he was supposed to know the difference between this ‘don’t’ and the ‘don’t’ that actually meant ‘harder’ or ‘rougher.’

“Thought you might enjoy some…attention.” Lucifer's lips quirked into a smirk, despite his confusion.

"Then give me the attention I actually want," Alastor snapped, his usual composure slipping.

"Okay, okay, whatever you want, Bambi," Lucifer purred.

It was all too easy to flip Alastor onto his hands and knees. Lucifer snapped his fingers, too impatient to rip the fabric away, but leaving it neatly folded nearby.

The Radio Demon's breath hitched, but he didn't resist.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as he beheld Alastor in all his glory.

“Wow…” the devil said softly.

His lithe form was a study in contrasts—soft curves and sharp angles, strength and vulnerability intertwined.

The omega’s fur was a pale beige, so short and fine it felt like velvet beneath Lucifer's fingertips.

It covered his body in a seamless coat, broken only by the network of scars that crisscrossed his back and sides.

Some were thin and faded, barely visible.

Others were thick and ropey, telling tales of battles hard-won and pain endured.

Alastor’s waist tapered dramatically, accentuating the curve of his hips and the swell of his ass.

“You have a tail.”

“Your keen observation skills astound me, sire.”

Lucifer could practically hear Alastor rolling his eyes.

The deer demon’s tail, usually hidden beneath his coat, now curled almost demurely over the cleft of his ass.

Hiding the part of Alastor that Lucifer wanted to devour most.

It was long, sleek, and scarlet, ending in a tuft of darker fur that matched his ears.

Those ears, usually so alert and attentive, now lay flat against his head in a display of submission that sent a thrill through Lucifer.

His gaze traveled down Alastor's spine, following the subtle ridges of his vertebrae to the dip at the small of his back, watching as the omega seemed to bow under his gaze. Ducking His head down.

Lucifer’s eyes lingered on the glistening slick that coated Alastor's inner thighs, evidence of his arousal and need.

"Damn, you're gorgeous," Lucifer breathed, awe evident in his voice.

Alastor gave a stunned laugh, the sound tinged with feedback.

"Why, do I get the feeling," he purred, glancing over his shoulder with a coy smile, "You’re just very fond of the sound of your own voice."

Lucifer chuckled, running his hands appreciatively over Alastor's flanks. "Oh, I am," he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss between Alastor's shoulder blades. "I’m a talker in bed, what can I say?"

“We aren’t in bed, so will you shut up?”

“You shut up, Bambi.” Lucifer traced a finger down Alastor's spine, savoring the shiver it elicited.

“I do wish you would make me.”

Damn deer demon and his ability to taunt like that, even in the middle of his heat. Lucifer reached the curve of the omega’s ass, and that tail twitched.

“Can I…?” Lucifer asked, glancing at the back of his head, only to see a growl vibrate through the demon’s frame.

“I thought I told you, I’m not delicate.”

Lucifer rolled his golden eyes, grabbing the omega by the tail, and giving a yank just to see if he would protest—to his continuing surprise, Alastor didn’t.

He made a muffled sound of radio noise, but his spine bowed. That perfectly tight little ass was lifted high, presenting itself shamelessly, a sight that made Lucifer's mouth water.

The omega’s perfect little furled hole, absolutely dripping slick.

“So gorgeous.” The alpha purred.

He was a wash in the smell of Alastor’s heat, and Lucifer’s mouth watered. But he doubted the already desperate omega would give him the time to eat him out properly.

Still, Lucifer moved behind Alastor, urging to spread those legs wider with his hands. The angel’s long fingers traced the cleft of his ass, circling his hole to gather his slick, before easily slipping inside.

Alastor yelped, more in surprise than pain. "What in the circles are you doing?" he demanded, craning his neck to glare at Lucifer.

"Making sure you're properly stretched," Lucifer replied calmly, working a second finger alongside the first. "I'm not exactly small, you know."

“You don’t have—”

Alastor's retort died on his lips as Lucifer's fingers crooked inside him, brushing against a spot that made his vision blur.

He bit back a moan, determined not to give Lucifer the satisfaction.

Lucifer smirked anyway.

Alastor rolled his eyes. His trademark grin strained at the edges.

"I can take it," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Or have you gone soft in your old age, devil?"

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, but he continued his ministrations. "Just because you don’t know how to be considerate of others.”

"Considerate?" Alastor scoffed, arching his back provocatively. "I didn't come here for consideration. I came here to be fucked."

A low growl rumbled in Lucifer's chest. "So you keep saying."

"Then stop playing and get on with it.” Alastor's grin widened, sharp and challenging. “Lest I find a more suitable alpha.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

Something snapped in Lucifer.

The idea of losing the omega, losing Alastor to another alpha. Just because he insisted on some foreplay?

Lucifer withdrew his fingers and lined his cock up to the omega’s hole. Without further warning, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt.

The taunt died on Alastor's lips, replaced by a strangled gasp.

His fingers dug into the carpet, body trembling as it adjusted to the sudden intrusion.

Lucifer paused, surprised by the sudden silence. He'd expected more quips, more needling.

But Alastor was unnervingly quiet, save for his ragged breathing.

"Cat got your tongue?" Lucifer taunted, rolling his hips experimentally. "Too much for you to handle after all?"

No response.

He frowned, unsure if he should be irritated…or concerned.

“Alastor…” He murmured, pulling back from the omega.

“For the love of all that is unholy,” the demon snarled out, his voice modulating like a radio flicking through frequencies. “Will you just fuck me.”

Frustration and desire coiled in Lucifer's gut.

"Fine!" he growled, tightening his grip on Alastor's hips. "You want it hard? I'll give you hard."

Without further warning, Lucifer snapped his hips forward, driving into Alastor with brutal force.

The sound of flesh striking flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by Lucifer's grunts and the creaking of the floorboards beneath them.

Alastor's body jerked with each thrust, but he remained stubbornly silent. Lucifer gritted his teeth, determined to wring some reaction from the infuriating omega.

He angled his hips, searching for that spot that would make him see stars.

 But Alastor remained frustratingly silent, head bowed, shoulders tense.

Lucifer's movements slowed as a new thought occurred to him.

Perhaps Alastor had slipped into omega headspace—a state of heightened sensitivity and submission that some omegas experienced during intense sexual encounters.

It wasn't something he'd expected from the notoriously sharp-tongued Radio Demon, but it would explain the sudden silence.

Lucifer lost himself in the sensations, his world narrowing to the tight heat enveloping him and the lithe body beneath his hands.

Alastor's fur was impossibly soft against his palms as he gripped those narrow hips.

The omega's scent filled his nostrils—spicy cinnamon and sweet honey, undercut by the musk of arousal.

He marveled at how perfectly Alastor's body yielded to him, taking every inch of his cock with ease.

The slick sound of their coupling mixed with the creaking floorboards and Lucifer's own grunts of pleasure. He reveled in the silence from the usually sharp-tongued demon, savoring this rare moment of having rendered Alastor speechless.

Lucifer's tempo doubled, driving into Alastor with punishing force.

He watched, mesmerized, as the omega's back arched beautifully with each thrust.

Those fluffy ears lay flat against Alastor's head, twitching occasionally when Lucifer hit a particularly sensitive spot. The Radio Demon's tail flicked rhythmically, betraying his pleasure despite his obstinate quiet.

He could feel Alastor beginning to tremble beneath him, small shivers running through the omega's frame.

A smirk tugged at Lucifer's lips as he felt Alastor's inner walls fluttering around him.

"What was that, about being able to handle it?" Lucifer purred, leaning down to nip at one of those twitching ears.

Alastor turned his head slightly, one heavy-lidded eye visible as he glanced back at Lucifer. "I'd thought you'd have finished by now."

His voice was irritatingly even.

"Archangel stamina, Bambi. I can keep this up all night if needed."

A full-body shudder ran through Alastor at those words.

Lucifer grinned, relishing the reaction. He snaked a hand around Alastor's waist, fingers seeking the omega's neglected cock.

To his surprise, Alastor's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist.

"Don't," Alastor hissed, a hint of panic in his voice.

Lucifer paused, confusion furrowing his brow. "I’m just trying to get you off."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, a flash of crimson in the dim light. "Stop trying," he hissed, pushing back against Lucifer with renewed vigor.

As the pressure built, Lucifer felt his control slipping. "Fuck," he panted, "I'm close. I'm going to—"

"Finally," Alastor's voice cut through the haze of lust, dripping with sarcasm even as he trembled beneath Lucifer's onslaught.

Lucifer's rhythm faltered for a moment. He hadn't expected Alastor to sound so…coherent.

A part of him, the alpha part, bristled at the implication that he hadn't been satisfying his partner.

But, then he saw Alastor lift a hand, cupping his own omega prick between his legs.

“Fuck, that’s—” Lucifer gasped, just thinking of Alastor getting himself off while he fucked the omega. Lucifer started, then swallowed hard. "Inside. Can I come inside you?"

A gleam of genuine surprise crossed Alastor’s features. He hadn't expected Lucifer to ask permission.

For a moment, the Radio Demon's carefully constructed facade cracked.

"Don't you dare knot me," The omega snarled, but there was a shiver in his voice that betrayed his uncertainty. He glanced back at Lucifer, crimson eyes narrowed.

The alpha whined, a low, desperate sound that reverberated through his chest.

His instincts yearned to claim, to mark, to knot. But he forced himself to nod, panting out. "No knot. Promise."

With a final, powerful thrust, Lucifer came, filling Alastor with his release.

The sensation was intense, overwhelming, but true to his word, he didn't allow his knot to swell. Instead, he gritted his teeth, fighting against his instincts as he carefully pulled out.

Alastor's body tensed, bracing for the stretch of a knot that never came.

When Lucifer withdrew completely, the Radio Demon let out a small, surprised gasp.

He hadn't truly believed Lucifer would keep his word.

Alphas never did.

Lucifer's gaze drifted down, noticing Alastor's still hard prick. A mix of alpha pride and genuine concern flickered across his features.

"You're still…" he began, gesturing vaguely. "I could…my hand, or mouth, whatever you need."

"Shut up," Alastor hissed, his voice crackling with static.

With a snap of his fingers, a silk cloth materialized in Alastor's hand. He gripped himself firmly, beginning to stroke with quick, efficient motions.

Lucifer watched, fascinated and perplexed.

This wasn't typical omega behavior, especially not during heat. The need for an alpha's touch should have been overwhelming.

Yet here was Alastor, stubbornly taking care of himself.

"Alright Bambi," Lucifer murmured, unable to entirely mask his bewilderment. “Give me a show.”

Alastor's only response was a low growl, his hand moving faster. His other hand gripped the floor, claws leaving scratches in the wood.

Lucifer found himself oddly captivated.

There was something almost beautiful in Alastor's defiance, in his refusal to submit fully even now.

When Alastor finally came with a choked gasp,

Lucifer felt a surge of…appreciation? Admiration? He couldn't quite name the emotion. As he watched the perpetually composed demon left a panting mess, back bowed forward, carpet burn on his knees.

Fuck, Lucifer wanted to touch him. All of him.

Lucifer hesitated, his hand hovering inches from Alastor's shoulder.

The alpha in him yearned to provide comfort, to wrap the omega in his arms and soothe away the tremors still wracking his lean frame. But this was Alastor—unpredictable, prickly Radio Demon—Lucifer knew better than to assume.

"I could conjure a blanket," he offered softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Or we could just…talk."

Alastor's reaction was sluggish and instantaneous. He flinched at Lucifer's proximity, a barely perceptible shudder running through him.

But then, to Lucifer's surprise, Alastor leaned in ever so slightly, as if drawn by some instinct he couldn't quite suppress.

For a fleeting moment, Lucifer caught a glimpse of vulnerability in those crimson eyes. It was quickly masked, but it left him wondering what else was hidden beneath Alastor's carefully cultivated persona.

Then, as if awakening from a trance, Alastor's posture stiffened.

His eyes widened, darting around the room as if suddenly remembering where he was and what had transpired. The Radio Demon's usual sharp-toothed grin snapped back into place, but Lucifer noted it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Alastor?" Lucifer prompted, his brow furrowing with concern. He'd never seen the demon look so…disoriented.

"Well," Alastor said abruptly, his voice regaining its crisp, radio-host cadence, "that's quite enough of that!" With a snap of his fingers, his disheveled appearance vanished, replaced by his usual impeccable attire.

Lucifer blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. "Wait, what—" he began, struggling to keep up with Alastor's mercurial mood. "Don't you want to���stay? For a bit?"

Alastor's grin widened, a touch manic around the edges. "Absolutely not, my dear!" he declared, already backing towards the door.

"I've heard tales of your legendary angelic stamina, and I'd rather not put it to the test. One round with the King of Hell is quite sufficient, thank you!"

Lucifer's mind raced, torn between amusement and frustration. "Alastor, that's not what I—"

But before he could finish his sentence, Alastor vanished in a crackle of static and shadow, leaving behind only the fading echo of his laughter.

Lucifer stared at the empty space where Alastor had been, his hand still outstretched.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his arm.

The room seemed too quiet now, devoid of Alastor's manic energy and biting quips.

"Damn it," Lucifer muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

He couldn't shake the nagging feeling of incompleteness, like an orchestra cut short before its final movement.

"What did I expect?" he chided himself. "A cuddle and a heart-to-heart with the Radio Demon?"

But deep down, Lucifer knew it wasn't just about physical intimacy. There was a ritual to these things, a necessary comedown that Alastor had abruptly severed.

"Suppose I should have known," Lucifer sighed, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "Nothing's ever easy with that infuriating busboy."

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics❣️BlueSky❣️

[lilacwriter07]

When You Give the Devil a Duck

What if Alpha Alastor steals the duck Beta Adam made for Omega Lucifer ?

Adam muttering curses as he cleans off the blood, because somehow it was his fault for helping Lucifer out . Who purrs happily while eating pancakes (because Adam was making breakfast) with his little duck .

The way Adam has torn off Alastor's head, because the fucker was about to bite Lucifer made him so wet and happy .

He can't wait for Adam to finish and take him to his nest .

Angel ofcourse went to the store with Husk to get more popcorn, because he feels like lots of drama is about to happen .

They walk pass someone who looked familiar, but paid no mind to it as person walked to the hotel .

Found you ..

[thebadbatchfan]

the combination of hyper fixations in my head right now is AWFUL … one second it’s the bad batch the next it’s hazbin hotel and i can’t think of ANYTHING else. the brain rot it real 😭

all the songs are constantly stuck in my head and i’m driving my friends crazy blabbering about it all … send help