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lqveharrington · 8 months ago

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Hidden Hatred | V.

summary: You’re a new Overlord and meet Vox for the first time. Who knew what that first interaction would do for the both of you down the line.

pairing: Vox x witch Overlord!reader

includes: name calling, mentions of murder, technically enemies to lovers, Vox being whipped by you, jealously, suggestiveness, teasing, fluff, angst if you squint, (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: 1st request for Vox done! Also, tell me why I love giving them powers like wanda? it’s so cool tho

When you became an Overlord, you quickly recognized all the other Overlords at meetings, matching their personality to name. For example, Alastor’s voice effects gave the illusion of a radio, hence Radio Demon. Or Carmilla and her pointe shoes made of angelic steel. However, there were some Overlords who never attended the meetings, sending in one of the associates in place. The Vees being the only Overlords to do so, typically sending the youngest to attend the meetings. In doing this, you never met the others, refusing to associate online presence with their real self.

So when Vox came in place for Velvette for one of the Overlord meetings, you were slightly confused.

“Vox, how lovely for you to join us this afternoon.” Carmilla gestured toward the Television Demon across the table, her stare sharp when he tapped away on his phone.

“Uh-huh, can we make this quick? I have a company to run.” He threw her a bored look and scanned the rest of the room, noticing a new face. “Who the hell is this bitch?”

Your face jumps in surprise at his words before giving him a small smile. “It’s—“

“You know what? I don’t give a shit.” Vox glanced back at his phone. “Please, continue Carmilla.”

You huff, conjuring up red wisps from your fingertips to mess with while the meeting continues. You thought dealing with Velvette when you first met was a pain, but Vox was ten times worse than she was, and you just met! He seemed interesting, and you never expected a demon Overlord to have a television for a head, but his disinterest in you put you in a sour mood. You genuinely wanted to understand how he was an Overlord, but it seemed impossible with his nature.

“Now dear, let’s not think of murderous thoughts.” Alastor hummed in your direction when he saw you send a death glare toward the Television Demon as you left the meeting room, to which you only received an eye roll back. “Only I can have an enemy like him.”

“Al, during our short break he told me to fuck off and shoved his finger in my face!” You seeth as your eyes glow red with more wisps emitting from your fingers. “I’m going to murder him.”

Alastor caught your arm, “You will not do such things to an Overlord. If he appears at the next meeting and continues to act rude toward one of our gracious ladies, please tell me.”

“Of course, Al.” You snap your fingers, creating a portal to your Overlord territory. “I’ll see you in a month.”

Although you weren’t going to see all the Overlords in one place for a month, that didn’t mean a certain Television Demon consumed your thoughts because of your behavior toward one another during one meeting. It seemed as if every piece of technology reminded you of him, causing some unwanted thoughts to form during wanting times.

Much like you, Vox’s thoughts were filled to the brim of you. How has he never met you? How has Velvette never mentioned a new Overlord in Pentagram City? Oh, he wanted to know more about you. It was only a matter of time before he realized he was entirely whipped by your presence.

“What’s up your ass?” Velvette stepped inside the elevator with Vox as he messed with his suit for the nth time. She already had a suspicion something was up when he decided to tag along for the meeting, but he was acting nervous for a group of people he disrespected. How the fuck does that even work? “Vox.”

“What?” He whipped his head over to his shorter associate as the elevator door dinged.

She gave him an unimpressed look, “What’s going on in your system? You look like you’re going to reboot any second now.”

“Do I?” He reached up to touch his screen, pulling out his phone for vitals.

Velvette furrowed her brows at his reaction when they walked into the meeting room, a couple of other Overlords mingling amongst themselves. “Okay, what’s the fucking problem? Is there someone you—“

“Vox and Velvette.” Carmilla took her slow strides into the room, quickly diminishing the added noise. “To what do we owe the pleasure of two out of the three Vees?”

“This fuck wanted to join me for no reason.” Velvette jabbed her thumb in Vox’s direction, earning a snort from you. All heads turned as you covered your mouth, letting a quick apology fall from your lips.

Carmilla raised a brow, “Thank you… We’ll start off with the…”

Her voice soon became white noise to Vox as he took his seat, glancing up at you every few seconds. God, he hated the way you would quietly speak with Alastor or how you made eye contact with him just to break it with a glare. He hated the way you always dressed to your heart's content and how you failed to respond to Carmilla when asked a question. He hated how he failed to actually hate you.

“Vox, you’re wrecking Carmilla’s table,” Velvette murmured in his direction as Vox’s claws dug deeper into the table’s top.

He looked down at the table, pulling his claws out. He was too focused on your quiet laughter with Alastor to notice the damage. As your quiet laughter subsided, you made eye contact with Vox again before glancing down at the claw marks, and raising a brow at the television.

‘It’s boring.’ Vox mouthed toward you.

You pursed your lips at him, not understanding the game he was playing. ‘Of course it is, it always is.’

Vox rolled his eyes in a joking manner, shooting his attention back to the Overlord in front of the table. You, on the other hand, shot a quizzical look toward him. Sure, your dead heart sped up a bit, and you felt your face warm, but it was only an exchange of two sentences. You felt the red wisps emit from your fingertips again from confusion, pulling at the soft fog created by the magic.

“My dear, what’s gotten you all out of sorts?” Alastor caught up with you when the meeting adjourned with a sharpened grin, noticing your encounter with the Television Demon.

“What do you mean?” You glance back at Vox who offered you a small smirk. Waving him off, you let a small smile slip through.

“That, my dear!” He squinted his eyes toward the television. “Don’t fraternize yourself with him, he’s involved in too much trouble.”

You tilt your head back to Alastor, “We’re in Hell, I can’t think of any reason why anyone would not be in trouble.”

“What I mean to say is don’t get too comfortable with that… thing. It’s not ideal.” His ears fell flat as you paid zero attention to him.

“I won’t. Plus, I’m sure he got bored and bothered the first person he saw. After all, he did tell me to fuck off during the last meeting.” You tuck your arms behind your back. “Don’t worry so much about me, Al. I can handle myself just fine.”

“I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about the man you’re associating yourself with.” He patted your head. “Until next time, my dear.”

You watch as he slips away with his shadows, rolling your eyes at his antics. It was highly unlikely that you would start a friendship with Vox, considering the people he lives with. Alastor had nothing to worry about, it was just a moment of boredom consuming the both of you.

At least, that’s what you told yourselves. Satan knows that the first interaction was uncalled for, but it wasn’t Vox’s fault. No, he blamed himself for the image he had to uphold and being struck by a new Overlord’s looks. But as time passed, along with meetings, the urge to see each other became stronger, resulting in meetings outside of the Carmine building.

Literally.

“Doll, you take way too long to get here.” Vox pulled you toward him by your hand, linking them together.

“Aw, I’m sorry. Were you too scared to be here all on your own? Too afraid there are no bodyguards to protect you?” You tease with a wide grin. You watch as he rolls his eyes at you, tugging you closer. You laugh while patting his chest, “I had to deal with an incompetent sinner. I know you wanted to spend more time together before the meeting.”

“You have to make it up to me now.” He smiled down at you, eyes filled with admiration.

You hum, your own eyes gleaming in such a lovesick look. “Like what, Mister Vox? How should I make it up to you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tilted your head further up, the electricity over his hat reflecting his fast heartbeat. “What do you think?”

“I think…” You flit your gaze to his lips before moving them back up to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t be in debt to you.”

“Is that so, doll?” He squints as he tightens his hold on you. “I think I’m deserving of something at least.”

“Mm, no.” You squeeze his hand. He gives you a playful look before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You grin before reciprocating, using your free hand to hold his shoulder. The both of you separate, eyes fluttering open with soft smiles. “Must you defy me, handsome?”

“Only when I want to.” He whispered against your lips as he pressed more kisses on your lips. You giggle as you let your red wisps emit from your fingers, watching as your wisps pull him away from you. “Doll…”

“Mm?” You stay still as he continues to get pulled away by your powers.

“What are you doing?”

You flick your wrist, the wisps disappearing. “Nothing, you’re the one moving away from me.” Vox grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against him. You squeal as he peppers kisses across your face, “Vox, we could be seen.”

“Who’s going to come down this alleyway?” He left one last kiss on your lips, smiling as a fool would.

“The other Overlords who are going to attend the meeting.” You push his screen away as you catch the time on your watch. “I thought you didn’t want anyone to know?”

“Yeah, but they should know you’re taken.” He squeezed your waist.

“You want them to think we hate fuck each other?” You grab his wrists as they sway you around. “You know they still think we hate each other right?”

“Who said we don’t?” He bared his teeth to you, earning an eye roll. “You can’t tell me you don’t like it—“

“Shut up.” You sucker punch his shoulder. “The Tech Overlord dating the Witch Overlord? Never.”

“Never.” He linked your hands again, leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. “I despise you.”

“Horrible thought.” You pull him along out of the alley, separating as soon as you see Alastor appear out of the shadows. You watched the Radio Demon send you a sharpened grin, which you returned with a small smile.

Although you kept your relationship a secret from the likes of sinners and Overlords, both the Technology Overlord and Witch Overlord knew what they were to each other, even if that meant it was kept hidden.

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0bticeo · 10 months ago

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oooh but to be pinned down against the panel control by alastor during that one scene in stayed gone. maybe you're one of his contracted souls. maybe you're one of the poor souls seeking redemption. maybe you're one of his friends, if the radio demon has such a thing. maybe you're playing spy for vox. doesn't matter - you're here during his showdown with vox.

his façade drops. you take a step back, until your hip hits the control panels. there's nowhere to run. not with him looming over you. his ever-present smile stretches impossibly wide, fangs bared, hot breath fanning your skin. saliva trickles down his gaping maw. your breath hitches when it hits the tender skin of your neck, lips parting in a silent gasp.

"i'm gonna make you wish that i'd stayed gone."

his body contorts and stretches, limbs elongating until he encases you, studies you - pupils like radio dials emerging from a pool of black. he's close. too close. oh, and he's pissed.

you've never seen something as terribly beautiful as him.

his claws dig in your chin, craning up your neck just short of humanely possible until you meet his stare. he sings, still, static digging into your very bones until it steals your breath away, until it's only you and the radio demon watching you like you're his last meal. oh, and he's snarling his verse, voice dripping with venom as he goes, as you drown into him.

there's a distorted chuckle in his voice, the richness of his laughter merging with that of his audience's.

"oh, this will be fun."

#hem #i'm sparing you the elaborate fantasy of him ruining us on that control panel #yes vox is watching us get railed #obticeo writes #so sorry there's no smut but im too tired #anyway #the japanese dub of stayed gone had me hot n bothered #alastor's va is practically growling his last lines aahahahahaha how am i supposed to focus #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #blurb.

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lovekipani · 11 months ago

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Part 2 - Alastor Smut - Alastor's Perspective

Alastor Fucks You Part 2 - Alternate Perspective

If you haven't read the reader's POV of this, you can do so here.

My partner and I collaborated on this story from Alastor's perspective to mirror my previous version written from the reader's perspective. So if you are curious what was going on in Alastor's mind when he was fucking, here's our one-shot of just what that might be. Enjoy.

Plot: Alastor wants you... bad. But not just as a one-night stand. He wants to make a deal to keep you as his personal toy. And the kicker is...you want it just as bad.

It’s 2 am, and I’m hungry for restless, mortal souls that struggle to sleep. Souls that are particularly…vulnerable…to what I have to offer.

But, I rarely get to venture into the living world these days…where TV and digital technology have taken over (fuck you Vox), weakening my access to souls – a link dependent on powers of old…the power of voice. The power of frequency. Instead, I roam Hell, claiming souls in bondage in exchange for what I can offer them…what they need and crave.

Since I expired and ended up here, in hell 90 years ago, I have been known by many names, but legend knows me as Alastor. The Radio Demon.

It seems like it’s going to be just another night in Hell. I sit in my den, dimly lit with the soft glow of demon fire, the sound of 20s jazz crackling in the background as I raise my glass of whiskey to my lips…the cold thick liquor burning as it slides down my throat.

I am tense and restless. It’s nothing new. As much as I lord over the souls in Hell, nothing down here can satiate my hunger…my shadow’s hunger…for the flesh of a mortal soul, and it has been too long since I have had my fill. My power, invisible yet pervasive, emanates like waves. But like water crashing against a dam, my powers are confined within the walls of Hell unless the perfect, damned soul tunes in.

I drift off in my thoughts. Maybe I’ll go over to Charlie’s hotel and fuck with Husk. Grouchy old fuck is so easy to rile up, and he’s the best bartender in town. I straighten my red pinstriped jacket, and fix my red and black hair – after all, a gentleman, even a Demonic one, must not be seen in public unkempt.

I open the door to step out, when suddenly I feel a shift in the air. Something I have not felt for so long, yet so unmistakably familiar. The shadows in me stir, knowing that this could mean. My stag ears straighten, scanning the airwaves. I don’t so much see her, but sense her – a sensation at once faint, but all the while so vivid that it paints a picture in my mind. I close my eyes as I feel a grin spread across my face, baring my razor sharp teeth. The tentacles of my shadow rippling under the silk fabric of my jacket. They are hungry.

I see her now, still faintly, standing alone in her dark apartment, leaning against a side table with a cold drink in one hand, her other hand fiddling with the dial on an old wooden radio – most likely a family heirloom. Her grandmother’s, maybe. I can see her frustration as she turns the dial back and forth, trying to find the right frequency.

She is a vision. Thick long blonde hair that reaches the top of a perfect ass held in low rise jeans that fit just right. The low cut V-neck tee hugging her hour-glass figure, barely containing her breasts. But there is more to her than her looks…something deeper inside. Sure, it takes a damned soul to connect with me, but there is something more. Something darker. A hidden truth. Something deliciously sinful.

Finally, she finds the frequency, my frequency. She visibly relaxes and closes her eyes as she listen to the old 20s sounds. Little does she know that she has just sealed her own fate.

“Good girl,” I whisper.

My entire body vibrates as the old radio connects with my energy, and the vision becomes clearer, and the portal, invisible to mortal eyes, that has been closed to me for so long finally opens.

I straighten my body, holding one hand against the small of my back, the other holding my staff, topped with an old radio microphone. I draw in a deep breath. I can practically smell her perfume – a familiar scent from a French fashion house – mixed with the sweetness of her skin.

I gather myself, holding my shadow in check. “Patience, Alastor,” I say to myself.

Taking one last deep breath, pulling my shoulders back and letting my frame take on its full size, I concentrate my thoughts and my powers for my long-awaited return to broadcast radio.

“It’s show time,” I mutter to myself, an evil grin spreading across my face, knowing what is to come. My body tensing, I project my energy, my thoughts, and my voice through the air, and right into her ear.

I slip into the shadows. A Demon watching his prey.

“It’s my pleasure to introduce you…"

Alllaasstor... I breathe into her ear.

I watch as her eyes snap open and she looks frantically around the room, trying to locate the source of my unexpected voice. I chuckle again…I fucking love this part. I can see her body tense with confusion.

Strange…usually what I see is fear.

I hear her whisper under her breath…”Alastor.” I watch as she leans back, taking another sip of her drink, trying to relax.

Who is this woman? It’s time that I find out.

With a simple thought, the lights flicker, and I watch with sadistic glee as her eyes widen and her body straightens. “What the fuck was that?” she says out loud to herself.

Another simple thought, and I plunge the room into darkness. I watch her in darkness, and her confusion brings on an arousal that I have long missed. I can feel my cock harden in my tailored pants, growing and aching for what is to come.

“Lets have some fun,” I say to myself, as I turn the room a sinister, crimson red. I watch as she closes her eyes, visibly shaking her head, trying to wake herself from what she believes to be a dream.

I step out of the shadow and stand directly in front of her as she opens her eyes, my eyes menacing and fixed on hers as I grin wide and bare my razor-sharp teeth.

Her body stiffens with fear as a growl rumbles in my throat, that primal hunger growing. I can feel her fear and I feed off it, my frame growing as I tower over her, my cock hardening into a steel rod as a sensual gasp escapes her soft lips. Her face flushes red and my heightened senses smell not fear…but desire. Her whole body emanates the scent of a woman in heat.

I release my shadow that I have held in check. The tentacles of my inner monster reaches out, wrapping themselves around her ankles and snaking up her legs and thighs, around her waist, gripping and squeezing her tits through her clothes, and wrapping around her throat as I lift her into the air. I pull her head back, exposing her neck as I step closer, my prey held in mid air.

I step forward, pressing her back against the counter, and lean my face close against her neck, taking her scent in like a feral beast. I bring my face close against hers, not touching, but close enough for her to feel my heat, as I growl into her ear, “mmm…you smell delicious.”

My shadow pulls her back further, arching her back to expose her breasts to me. I can feel her heat and wetness as my shadowy tendrils, like phantom hands, press and explore between her legs. Instead of recoiling in fear like many have in the distant past, her hips roll and seek me out.

Yes…that’s the deep, dark truth that I sensed earlier. This dark, sex-crazed soul that I will both set free, and claim as my own fuck toy.

As my demonic shadow holds her aloft, I grip her hip with one hand, my claws digging into her soft flesh, while the other runs down her cheek. I love the feeling of her body under my claws... so sensitive, soft...vulnerable. My shadow spreads her legs as I pull her hard against me, the shaft of my hard cock pressing against her slit through her jeans. I can feel the moist heat burning through her jeans.

I lean forward, the tip of my tongue licking softly from her collarbone up to her ear. “What a darling specimen you are, my dear,” I purr into her ear as I grind against her cunt, my cock desperate for release.

I press my weight over her, the underside of my shaft covering her slit, with the tip of my cock against her naval. I watch her face flush and contort with desperate desire and lock my eyes with hers.

“Allasstor…” she breathes hotly. I set my demonic desires free as I tighten my hold on her body.

“You have such a lovely voice…maybe I should broadcast your screams tonight for all of hell to hear while I fuck that needy little cunt,” I growl as my shadowy hand grips her hot pussy through her jeans, pressing hard against her clit. I feel her tense and whimper, and I tighten my grip on her tits, my shadow splitting into thin fingers, slipping inside the collar of her t-shirt and inside her bra, teasing her nipples, rolling them into hardness.

“Or maybe it’s your screams they’ll hear, Radio Demon?” she moans into my ear as I claim her body.

“Oooo, I love that demonic little mouth of yours. I’d like it even more if it were wrapped around my cock. Or maybe I’ll just bend you over this counter and fuck that delightful little pussy instead?” I growl as grip and massage her ass. As much as I want to fuck this cock-sucking slut’s throat, my shaft longs to be buried inside her cunt, and to fill her to the brim.

I flip her over with ease, her tits pressed against the countertop as I press my cock against her ass. I wonder what her tight little asshole would feel like? I press my chest against her back, and I feel her hand slide back, reaching to free my cock.

“Be careful, girl. I’m the monster you were warned about.”

“You’re the monster I want,” she moaned back.

With one hand holding her down by the back of her neck, I rip her jeans and panties off in one violent motion, leaving them in tatters on the ground. I can smell her cunt, and can see her pussy dripping with desire. I flip her onto her back, my claws gripping the collar of her t-shirt as I tear her t-shirt and bra in two, her tits spilling out, topped with perfect, hard nipples.

I lick my lips, as I command my shadow to tease her cunt, the tendrils stroke lightly up and down her pussy lips, gently prying them open, exploring every wet fold, learning the contours of what I am about to devour.

“Perfect…”, I growl deep as I begin to devour my little demon whore. My mouth starting at her neck, tasting her skin and biting, marking her. My clawed hands paw her breasts, squeezing them hard until she whimpers in delicious pain, my clawed fingers pinching her nipples as I twist and pull at them. My hands grip her thighs and spread them wide as I kiss down her abdomen, down her mound and breathe in her cunt, my fingers spreading her pussy lips and exposing her swollen, needy clit as my tongue lashes the sensitive bud, licking the length of her slit as my shadowy fingers teased and rimmed her tight asshole. I suck hard on her clit and feel her press her pussy into my mouth, a loud moan filling the room.

I rise from between her legs as I watch her breathe heavily, her eyes heavy-lidded, pleading for more. I rip my shirt off and hold her gaze as I unbuckle my pants, and I watch with pleasure and satisfaction as I watch her gaze drop between my legs as my demon cock springs free, thick-veined and ridged, dripping and glistening with precum. I slide the length of my cock up slowly her slit, starting at the junction between her cunt and her anus, making sure she feels and acknowledge every inch that is about to fill her.

“Let’s give the listeners a show they’ll never forget…” the little slut purrs as she grinds her pussy against my shaft.

Pushing her ankles above her head, I slam into her in a single deep stroke, my pelvic bone crashing against her clit that makes her groan in both pain and pleasure. I can feel her cunt stretch to accommodate me while drenching me in her juices that run down my balls. There is no elegance or tenderness, just a demonic beast claiming his prize as I drive my full length into her over and over, pulling back until just the tip of my cock is inside her before I slam fully back into her, and grinding my pelvis against her clit.

“Al…Alastor…of fuuuckk…” she moans and whimpers as I claim her sweet little cunt.

I pin her hands above her head as my body keeps her legs folded up above her head, as I fuck her relentlessly, watching her face as her eyes roll back with pleasure, and moans turn into whimpers.

I can feel her pussy clenching and tightening around my cock, massaging me inside her. I remain inside her and enjoy her ministrations, as I whisper into her ear.

“That’s a good girl…I know what you are. Now enjoy getting fucked in ways you have only dreamed of…”

I feel her cunt tighten and gush with wetness in response, as though she has been awaiting permission for her true self to be liberated. I slide one hand under her ass, running a finger between her ass-cheeks, feeling her cream dripping over her asshole, as I tickle it with the tip of my clawed finger.

“Yess…such a perfect little demon whore…such a needy little cunt…You’re mine. All mine…” I growled.

“Yes…I am yours…” she gasps as her orgasm builds. I watch her face as I continue to fuck her, as she fades from the world, sinking deeper into a world of pure pleasure and ecstasy.

I can feel her pussy swelling and getting tighter as she nears her climax. Her orgasm will be my claiming of her soul.

“Is it a deal?” I ask as I seek her complete submission. My cock swells in anticipation, filling her and stretching her even further.

“Yes! Yes! Alastor!!! Yes!!!” she screams as her body is wracked by a seemingly endless orgasm, relinquishing all control to me, as her cum gushes like a fountain, soaking my thighs and leaving puddles on the floor.

Her submission triggers my release, as I growl deep and bury myself deep inside her, my balls tightening, and my cock pumping thick seed deep into her hungry, eager pussy, filling her. My cum spills out as I slide out my still-twitching cock. Needing to empty myself completely, I stroke my cock as she watches me, and finish over her body, covering her belly and breasts, howling into the night.

As I catch my breath, and slowly release my grip on my newly claimed prize, I see that she has slipped into a deep sleep. My mark glowed a faint red on her mound…the mark of the Radio Demon.

I wrap my arms tight around my prize’s exhausted body, as I summon my shadow. Darkness falls around us and in a moment, we are back in hell, in my office.

I sit in my velvet armchair and watch her as she sleeps in my dimly lit room. My eyes glide over her naked form, watching her breasts swell with each breath. I can feel my arousal returning again, my cock starting to rise.

For how long she slept, I don’t know. Time has no meaning in Hell. Afterall, Hell is forever. At last she stirs, and opens her eyes, and I see her blink away the sleep, and watch her gaze drop from my face, down my body, to the erect cock that has been waiting for her.

“Welcome to Hell, Darling. Your deal starts now, and my listeners will want more,” I say with a smile as I approach her. She rolls onto her back, opens her legs, and wraps her ankles around my waist, pulling me down against her. Her tongue searches out my mouth, and my tongue dances with hers, tasting her.

“Best not to disappoint them then,” she moaned as I sink deep into her.

Want more?

Check out the Master List here.

#blurbs #blurb #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 8 months ago

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Vox x Alastor || Tell Me Who Did This, Now.

So I know I know, commission work yes yes I'm getting to it BUT! I wrote a little blurb for that little comic @milariro drew for radiostatic which is literally like my favorite ship I think. 👀

Anyway hope y'all like it! ÙwÚ

Word Count: 2k

Rating: PG(?), maybe PG-13. Mostly angsty ish feel?

It isn't the first time he's lost track of him somewhere but every time it happens Alastor hopes it's the last.

He hasn't seen Vox in days and considering how close they are… it's strange, worrisome.

Vox usually keeps up with him, taking the time to send messages and letters and pop up at the most sudden of times and Alastor always responds. Life in hell has been growing on the two of them, Vox has been so excited recently… so eager to announce that he had a dream, one where he could publicize the two of them, where they could happily pursue their goals… together and Alastor both loved… and despised the very idea.

Really he himself is fine with his little following; those few sinners, Vox included, who seemed to always tune in but he'd be a liar if he told himself that he didn't see this …new behavior that seemed to jump out of his friend. Vox was a big dreamer, they had spent many long hours talking to each other, laughing and joking while also spewing their deepest hopes and dreams…well usually it was Vox who did so while Alastor listened and encouraged him but he couldn't help but want to stop the other at the same time.

To tell him that he didn't need to go out there and get big and famous or whatever because Alastor likes the way Vox already is but his friend, his silly friend had his hopes for their pitiful, shameful lives down here so who would Alastor really be to stop him?

To put it lightly, Alastor is anxious over the other demon who was still just hardly taller than Alastor's own shoulder. He's worried that something might have happened to his friend considering how long he's been missing now. After all, Alastor had noticed the way they seemed to draw more attention these days when they were out together… the sneaky glances and judging gazes the other sinners would give them.

Alastor doesn't care, couldn't care less especially considering how easy most demons are to get rid of but… Vox had seemed to grow rather conscious of his presence outside because of it all.

There's been times where he's even mentioned it, brought it up when it was just him and Alastor together.. Alastor could never forget it, the first time it was ever brought up… the way that Vox seemed to look over his shoulder and double check locks and doors with the excuse of making sure they were ‘safe’.

It angers Alastor.

Annoys him so bad to the point that he'd kill them, split their skulls and the ground they walked and before Vox’s very own feet but… for some reason whenever Alastor gets to that point… the point of nearly no return, Vox will lightly brush his hand against his own and while that kind, warm smile and tell Alastor that it was okay.

That they didn't matter.

That he didn't care.

And so on and so forth.

Alastor moves through the room now, annoyance dripping into the air around him as he seems to get ready to go somewhere… to go look for him because after everything they've been through so far he could admit that he didn't… like it when he couldn't keep tabs on Vox. When they weren't together so Alastor could defend him if needed. When he couldn't hover around Vox like a hawk threatening to peck out anyone's eyes who dared to even spill a drop of liquor on his shoes. He's smiling but he's anything but happy as he gets dressed to go out and hunt down Vox himself..

It's not until he's all ready, a clawed hand reaching out to his front door when his ears suddenly perk as the sound of knocking from the other side fills the room.

Alastor freezes for a moment, his mind simply going blank in that very moment except for the thought of Vox that lingered and as he shifted gears and continued to reach out and turn the door before another knock could be heard, Alastor found himself faced with Vox.

Immediately there's a surge of electricity that rushes through his body at being faced with his friend.

He's relieved, for starters, just seeing him but then that turns into confusion, then slowly into unbridled rage when he takes in the sight of the other more closely.

“Al..” Vox chuckles softly, that little chuckle that Alastor had grown rather fond of over their time of knowing each other even in those moments when he did it after telling some stupid joke or when it happened when they seemed to press close to each other in the moments when they could. He usually loves hearing it but this time he does not.

Especially because it's glitchy, corrupted from what he can see.

Not while Vox stands before him looking like a stray, beaten dog who practically limped its way back to its owner.

“I know I'm later than I said I'd be but hey, I'm here now yeah?” Vox starts off, or at least attempts to through riggidy default settings and his scratchy voice box though Alastor seems to understand him anyway.

He doesn't want to though.

He doesn't want to be faced by him when he's like this and all Alastor manages to do is let out a glitchy sound himself though unlike Vox he's not tired or worn, he's energized, livid.

His eyes move over Vox's form; looking at his heavily dirtied and wrinkled shirt that seemed to be missing a few buttons then they look at the way Vox seems to cradle one of his arms and of course Alastor takes in his screen which seemed shattered, clearly punched in.

Rightfully so, Vox seems to grow self conscious as the way Alastor hasn't responded yet. He knew that appearing like this at such a late hour would be one thing for the man but it's so strange to see Alastor so… serious. Vox laughs a little, lowering his gaze as if shy, unwilling to show his face as he slowly looks down to his shoes.

A moment of silence washes over them and Vox can't help but rub his already sore arm.

Maybe he shouldn't have come after all? Perhaps Alastor was even angry with him for doing so after already being hours late… Vox knew he shouldn't have come, should have just dealt with this on his own like he preferred to do so but they both knew Alastor would have come looking for him if he hadn't shown up because that's just who Alastor was when it came to Vox.

His rushing thoughts come in bundles, so much so that the silence becomes deafening and Vox can't help the way his body wants to just naturally step back and walk away as if he never came to begin with, and maybe that was for the best? He hates bothering Alastor, hated not being strong enough to always hold his ground or to scare others away like Alastor so easily seemed to do and maybe it makes him feel inferior, unworthy of being with the other man which always makes his heart ache when he comes down to such a conclusion. He has so many dreams for them but at times much like these ones he wondered if he was just getting reality messed up with said dreams.

It's not until a finger slips under his screen and lifts it to make Vox's gaze focus on Alastor's once more but this time… Vox seemed to freeze at what he saw on the other's face, his functioning eye growing wider at the scene as he finds himself suddenly holding his breath.

He's distorted, glitching and reversing, sigils forming in the air behind him as his eyes look into Vox's. His neck twisted over to the side and eyes big, red, and ticking in a way that makes it seem that Alastor is just barely clinging to patience… like he could burst at any moment in a fit of claws and teeth and as Vox stares up at him, shocked, he can feel shivers run up his back as Alastor continues to hold his head in place. He's gentle but firm, refusing to let this go which was something Vox would also say to him..

To just forget it and move on but no, nonono.

Alastor refused not to be pissed and as far as he knew, he had worked to do..

People to punish, bitches to burn.

“Who… Did this.. to you?” He says and with the way the room seems to shake it's clear that Alastor is not in fact asking but instead demanding to know. Vox can feel the bloodlust leaking off of the other demon, the fury he carries and Vox was sure that if he was anyone else in hell in that very moment that Alastor probably…wouldn't have hesitated to spill his blood and the ground he stood on.

Vox recognized the look, his eyes slowly lowering again now while Alastor shifts his hand to caress the side of Vox's face, running his thumb over the undamaged side and though it's a kind gesture Vox can feel the way Alastor's hand seems to lightly shake.

Vox makes a soft sound, something that he didn't make often and closes the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Alastor and clinging to him and at first the taller of the two freezes at the reaction before slowly but surely… calming, at least as much as he could right now.

It takes a moment for Alastor to immediately respond but Vox doesn't mind, not when he can feel how warm Alastor was and smell his scent so closely and after everything it seems to take some pressure off the TV demon. When Alastor does hug him back his hold is a bit firmer, a bit tighter, like he may get upset if Vox dares to pull away from him now.

“Alastor, please…” Vox sighs softly, brokenly and though Vox's voice box is fucked Alastor still makes out those words and the gentle way Vox seems to speak to him.

“Please just…just leave it.” He says next, moving to bury his head in Alastor's chest and stepping in closer only to tumble forward onto a knee making Alastor jolt and quickly grip him closer before he finds himself in both of them. “Please let it go… I'll be okay, I'll recover. I always do don't I?” he says, practically begging the other man and Alastor feels his face twitch and he's never before more angry at his own curse for not being able to show just how upset he is right now. Yes of course he was sure Vox would be okay but he despised the idea of the other growing used to being treated this way by others...

“I'll be okay see?” Vox tries to convince the other or maybe… he's trying to convince himself now as he lifts his head and gives Alastor that silly, stupid smile again and it both annoys the deer demon but also convinces him enough to not leave right now and go hunt down however did this for there was all the time in the world to do such later.

Vox had come to him at this time for a reason and even if the reason was simply because Vox had no one else Alastor didn't care. He'd help him just like he always did… and so with a huff Alastor looks down to Vox with that everlasting smile though it does seem strained.

“Come inside… I'll take care of you.” He says and though Vox still feels guilty for showing up and possibly ruining Alastor's day with his appearance he also feels… grateful knowing Alastor was there just like he always was. So Vox gives in, sighing and nodding softly, gathering himself and getting to his feet and as Alastor holds the door wide open for him he trails in before the door closes back and snaps shut behind the two of them now allowing them to be alone together, where they were always guaranteed safety from the hellish world around them.

Where Alastor could continue to keep a close eye on him for just a while longer.

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oh-allie · 11 months ago

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(HH phase post 3) I WAS TOO FUNNY TO BE MAKING JOKES ABOUT HAZBIN HOTEL...

guys are we thinking that, cause its been confirmed that demons CAN be redeemed (with sir penis) are we thinking that adam is in hell now ?? I ACTUALLY REALLY HOPE SO 💔 he was too cunty to die <\3 he is THE dickmaster, THE misogynist, THE man, and his nuts DID create all of humanity 🙁

well he mightve been the first dickmaster but lucifer was obviously the best because jeez dude your chick got stolen twice by the same guy 💔

(understandable i am in the process of selling my soul to him he is my wife)

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #adam hazbin hotel #i really hope he didnt just die 😿 come back king 😿#OH GOD I HOPE HE GETS SENT TO HELL AND THEN HAS TO LIVE IN THE HOTEL #WITH THE GUY WHO FUCKED BOTH OF HIS WIVES #might not be good for alastor tho like he seemed kinda fucked up after the fight #hazbin hotel ep 8 #hazbin hotel spoilers #spoilers #allies blurbs

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 5 months ago

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Fun angle to consider basing Lucifer and Alastor interactions on (positive-ish).

Alastor points out that they're both abhorrent disappointments to their fathers, and yet no matter what their failed paternal figures believed, they made something of themselves that no one could ever have anticipated.

For example:

In trying to cheer up the melancholy monarch, primarily because Charlie asked him to, Alastor tries telling a few anecdotes of his life to annoy distact Lucifer.

"...and that's when Mimzy plowed through the bastard with his car, oh it was QUITE the sight to see. Although, afterwards that was the one thing you could not so easily do through the windshield. Ha!"

Side-eying the still flat King.

"Why, your Majesty, I feel almost as if I'm speaking to myself here. Whatever has you so constricted by a bad case of the morbs?"

"...the what? No, fuck you, I'm not giving you more ammunition to throw back in my face later, you smiling bastard." The Royal defences were in full working order.

"If it were my intention to tear you down, I promise you, it would be obvious my miniature monarch. Nor would you have been provided so many little details of my past life, very few have that dubious honour... now you must know almost as much as that obsessive little picture box."

"Why should I care what sick nonsense landed you here? What does it matter now you're trapped in the pit with me and all the other humans I've so thoroughly ruined because of one careless, selfish action?!" Lucifer's voice breaks, tears sitting at his waterline, desperate to fall and absolve at least some of the anguish that weighed on his heart.

In ten thousand years, Lucifer could always recall the day he fell... it made his bones ache and his wings burn, just as violently as his heart shattered once more from the sharp stong of betrayal. An eternal punishment for one little mistake, one misstep, one desire to be more than a mindless little puppet with no thoughts of his own.

"...do you think, perhaps, that everything is in fact a particularly unfunny cosmic joke?" Alastor muses, into the sudden silence of the room. "Why, if you put something in the middle of a lovely room, point to it and say Do Not Touch That Item in Particular... then you are, almost guaranteeing, that that is the first thing someone will do when you turn your back. How ridiculous would it be for an omnipotent allegedly wise creator to put such an obvious trap in place... and then be, what, cranky, that someone fell into it?"

A low hum of almost music wafted through the air around them, like a silken breeze on raw nerves.

"Why, it almost seems like this was a deliberate little game, and it was a matter of time before someone disobeyed. You, my little king, were formed with a set purpose... yet somehow you allegedly failed that. But, if I were to really set my mind to it... I would ask, how?" Alastor tilts his head, slight nausea rising at showing kindness to someone he was in the middle of a pointedly non-erotic (no matter what Angel said) rivalry with.

"You bait a trap, and you put the animal into the enclsure that you wish to fall into it... condition it, even, to make it more likely to do as you willed it. Only to, what? become angry when they did? It's preposterous and cruel, as most fathers turn out to be in my experience."

Lucifer's mind is swirling, heart thundering at the implications. Of course he'd had such blasphemous thoughts in the past, in his darkest moments... but to hear another speak them so plainly. So unafraid of the heavenly lightning bolt that could erase him forever.

"...you think my Father made me to give you humans free will?" he asks, weakly, wings shuddering in phantom discomfort. Invisible flames subsuming them over and over, as nerves fired.

"I-... are you well? You're shivering."

"Just... it's the day I-... you know, created this place. Or should I say cratered this place, hah!" Lucifer huffs, miserably. "It always feels like I'm burning alive again and again, all day long... it's part of the punishment, I think."

"Ah... well, I can't hypnotise you to ignore it, but perhaps this might help?" Alastor suggests, his shades sliding slowly up and over the King's flesh, his wings, cool and soothing like a pool of water. The magical effect seemed to counteract whatever was happening in his head, and Lucifer just about melted in relief. "I have heard that sometimes there is a psychosomatic effect when it comes to traumatic incidents... some Sinners can still feel their deaths on certain dates, because that is simply how their minds assume Hell works. Of course, it could be divine punishment, I'm not discounting the idea your father might be as volatile and self-serving as my own... but, do tell me if that has helped."

"...it has. Not sure how, but... it has." Lucifer mumbles, not willing to admit he was feeling better to this particular sinner. "So I'm punishing myself?"

"Why... perhaps, your lowness, perhaps! What a most effective means of perpetuating cruelty, I must say, than to teach your victim to place the burden of cruelty onto their own shoulders forevermore. Ingenious, sadistic, outright child abuse!"

"Hey I'm not a-..."

"That is neither here nor there, my petite powerhouse. My point remains that the progenitor of your existence harmed you in a manner wherein you spent the last few thousand years self-flagellating, all the while your pain serves to amuse one who does not raise a finger. And all for a mistake you had no real say in, if my theories are correct..." Alastor's grin went rictus tight. "Why else would the so-called Tree of Knowledge be created, if not to tempt disobedience, and the bleeding heart of his most curious creation? How cruel to be the angelic whipping boy, punished for a crime that was not a crime, but an anticipated outcome?"

His claws shredded the couch beneath Lucifer's grip. "But... if it was supposed to happen... why would-... why was I punished? If that's what was planned?" Bile rose up his throat, stomach roiling violently. "Why me, of all my siblings?"

A horrified pause, "Not that I would ever, ever, EVER want them to feel like this... to Fall, to burn and be broken. But I couldn't ever imagine standing there and passing judgement as they did. Tearing out their flight feathers so they would strike the ground and known the error of their ways..."

Images of Michael, of Azazel, of all his many siblings falling and screaming and burning flickered through his mind's eye and constricted his chest tightly. The shadows around his shoulders pressed rhythmically at his tense shoulders, and the pressure points about his throat until he felt able to breathe again.

Alastor didn't look at him as he spoke again. "Little Ma-... Lucifer, I believe that even were you cast in the role of juror, you would have fought against the popular vote. So put that out of your mind. Of the angels, and what little humans ever gleaned about the heavenly host, you were the only one ever made who was filled with a curiosity and compassion your siblings lacked in favour of pure obdeience. But... as I have stated before, when one is singled out amongst the flock for a perceived flaw in their design, in their creation... then there is nothing that that person could ever do or say to gainsay the way they are treated. You were Made to Fall, and... to free humanity of servitude."

"...why would He do that? I thought we were all loved... at least back then?" Lucifer chokes, his wings wrapping around himself, a feathered ball of tears and misery.

"Because you were born. Because you were a catalyst, the one who could provide the gentle nudge that humanity needed to evolve and be of interest to your capricious creator. What fun would there be for Heaven if all they saw when they looked down their noses was kindness, peace and love all over the earth?" Alastor laughed, the sound bone-chilling. "The self-righteous and allegedly holy love to judge others, that's their whole thing. Never lifting a finger to help... but feeling self-importance in their refusal, their perceived goodness, because they followed perceived rules and norms. Of course Humanity would be granted free will, the only question was when."

Another pause curls through the air, heavy with static like a rumbling thundercloud. "You were simply... a convenient way to enforce the Plan, or what I assume of it, Sire. Perhaps it is time to forgive yourself the transgression, if you still think it so. Stop letting your father hold this over you, crippling you, so that you can be a better parent to your own child - Charlotte is grieving for you right now, agonising over how best to help, when she doesn't, and thankfully could never, understand. You are not your father's cruelty."

Lucifer felt lost. "Char Char knows I'm-... all messed up?" he whispers, feeling the crushing weight of poor parenting decisions slam down on his shoulders. Only to abruptly switch to pure anger as a tendril smacks him across the back of the head. "What the f-... you asshole!"

"Leave the self-deprication alone, Majesty, you'll leave little material for when I need to find new ways to torment you at our next bout of rivalry." Alastor intones cheerfully. "And... despite your absence in her life, what I have come to learn of our dear Charlotte, is that you have been a kind father to her when you could. Her anguish is because you were not there, because she knows you are hurting and she wishes to help... not because of any cruelty you inflicted deliberately or otherwise."

"...that was the closest thing to a compliment I think you've ever directed my way. Careful, people might think you aren't the big bad wolf at the door anymore if you keep slipping like this." Lucifer teases, scubbing at the teartracks with his wrist, a watery grin breaking through. "You... think I'm a good father?"

"...now I never said that, did I?" Alastor taunts, and relents at the flash of hurt on the King's face. "Settle yourself, your majesty, I would say with as much honesty as I am capable... that you are an adequate parent to young Charlotte at this time. You have lost time with her, but you are trying to grow into that role, and she appreciates it... even if her blinding optimism makes her challenging to manage on occasion. Unable to see the voice of experience leading her down the safe path, when her heart believes it can change the minds of those above with enough application of kindness."

"Yeah, when she wanted to speak to Heaven I was so afraid for her... she's so like me, what would happen if they cast her out too? I'd-... I'd burn all of Heaven down for her. But I don't want her to wake screaming at the sensation of burning, like I did... recalling the condemnation in their eyes for simply wanting to believe humanity could be better if they had choice."

"...you blame yourself for Sinners, and so does Heaven. However, does that not equally afford you the accolades for each and every Winner that arrives at the Pearly Gates?" Alastor counters, tugging the King from those dark thoughts. Of course prodding at the pint-sized monarch was fun, but not like this. There were those who deserved to be tormented endlessly for all of time; but this broken demi-godling needed to know a kindness that he'd never been given.

At least Alastor had had his own mother to balance out the cruelty of his progenitor and the world at large. The bigotry and hatred, the disgust at his existence. Her kind and soothing hugs, her soft singing voice, her calm in the eye of the storm that was their tumultuous life.

Lucifer had been alone in that storm with no one to help him for centuries beyond measure. Only knowing the rain, even with the love and light that both Lillith and then Charlie had shown him. Believing his role was to stand in the rain and shiver for his penance... not conceiving that perhaps he should be allowed to know warmth alongside those he loved.

"I... hadn't thought of it that way. All I see is Pride bursting at the seams, with more arriving every day, and each one that hits the pavement is somehow my fault. They stem from my original sin, from the temptation of Lillith and then Eve... all this suffering for my sake."

"Oh do get over yourself, sire." Alastor smacks that train of thought down rapidly, earning an indignant glare. "Listen to yourself. For one, we covered this earlier in our little metaphysical chat about how you had been the sacrifical lamb for a capricious deity that needs a Worst Father of Time Immemorial mug slapped in his hands as soon as possible. Secondarily, do you recall what Charlie said when she returned from that meeting with Heaven, hmmm?"

"That they... didn't know what counted towards earning entry into Heaven? They made that list, but it didn't make any sense?"

"Exactly. And if the feathered idiots can't work out what gets you IN as a Winner, would it be safe to assume that... perhaps... the list of reasons to be designated a Sinner may be as ridiculously nebulous and contradictory as Heaven's own rules? Why, there's at least a few Sinners whose only crime was not being of the heterosexual persuasion, and another I am aware of who stole out of desperation to feed their children, and yet they are intermingled with child-touchers, arsonists, murders and all manner of vile beasts.

Take Angel Dust for example. Born to a crime syndicate familia, beaten until he wasn't a 'sissy' and forced to kill on his family's orders. He was who he was at the core, but suppressed it to avoid being caught, using substances to cope until they eventually killed him. His death inevitable, whether by drugs, another family, or his own for daring to be born liking men and shaming their silly moral ideals of masculinity. One could say it was as much a situation of coersive control as the deal he is trapped in with that disgusting moth. It doesn't count the time he helped care for his grandmother as she passed, or stood up to his family, or let a victim go quietly..."

"How do you know this?" Lucifer glared suspiciously.

"He talks quite a lot when he's drunk or thinks no one is really listening. And I rather like to assume I always am. If you're near a radio, or a sound based device, I can tune in. Quite frustrating until you work out how to turn the volume down on a few thousand devices all at once and filter it all." Alastor explains, rolling his eyes. "You cannot fathom how frustrating it is keeping Vox out of one's head given that the demon continues to command half the sound-enabled technology in the city at any given time. He's quite the pest."

"You want me to smite him?" Lucifer joked, feeling at least a little better now they'd talked through the glut of negative emotions in his gut.

"Hah, that would be a true delight to see, but no... I want to swat him back down once and for all like the little gnat he is." Alastor tilts his head, consideringly, at Lucifer. "Little King, has anyone ever thanked you for your gift of Free Will to Humanity?"

"I-... wha-... no?" Luficer babbled, flustered by the sudden return to a sore subject.

"Then, let me be the first... for no one will ever believe you, but we shall both know it happened. Lucifer Morningstar, thank you for providing all of humanity with Free Will, and the ability to determine our own futures, fates and ultimate resting places. What we each have done with this gift is on only ourselves, and you should leave your self-blame and doubt aside. I am here because of my own actions, and I would not have it any other way. My mother was a Winner because of your actions... and I cannot thank you enough for that."

Something hot and bubbly writhed in Lucifer's chest, spilling out of his eyes in absolute confused catharsis. His attempts to speak choke off, overwhelmed.

Lillith had tried to reassure him, but she had fallen with him. Her love and absolution was different, as was his for her...

This... this was... having someone who should revile him, and did in their own weird bantery way, for cursing him to eternal torment... and thanking the Devil for it. Fuck this was not easy to navigate the emotions this whole thing was spawning.

"Would it... be weird to say 'You're Welcome'?" He finally managed, chuckling awkwardly.

"Indeed it would, but it is appreciated all the same." Alastor returns, standing up and straightening his suit. "Do you feel ready to come down to dinner with the rest of the residents, or shall I have Niffty fetch some fare to your room for the evening?"

"I... uh, wow, being around people on a bad day has never worked out well for me. historically."

"You have managed adequately well with myself, your Lowness, so perhaps you should reconsider your current progress towards emotional management. As dear Charlotte might say, you are headed in the right direction!"

As the Overlod steps away, Lucifer grabs him by the nearest wrist, wincing at the sudden squeal of radio signals going haywire.

"Hey, wait... I'm sorry for touching you, but it's the fastest way for me to get a read on a Sinner. You just... you said some things, before, and I wanted to check in that you were alright too?" Lucifer felt awkward, and then ridiculous for the primary emotion becuase he was literally the most powerful being in the realm and part of his power was literally to pass judgement through reading souls. Why should he feel awkward?

"Would you let me... see? You know about what happened to me, but the way you spoke... but you don't have to!"

Alastor's arm twitches, like he wants to pull away... but the wrist remains in the Devil's grip, forcibly relaxing as a curt nod is provided. His thumb touching the slightest patch of skin between shirt sleeves and glove, and thrumming from low-level feedback that wound about the demon's heartbeat as if one and the same.

He would have backed off if the other had asked, had jerked away, had done anything but look at him in confused acceptance.

In a moment, everything is laid out before the King, and everything about Alastor clicked into place. A child born to a mother who should have reviled him, for her loss of choice in the matter and the social stigma it carried even though she was the victim. A little boy who was never fully wanted or loved by either heritage, too busy walking the line between two worlds that had their own views and ideals. A father whose actions went unquestioned, even when his anger bent and broke the people he held power over.

The higher society loved him, and laughed off his disciplining of the lessers, the lower tiers. They joked at the expense of the people he forced, beat down and exploited. For how would they know? Anyone not of their colouration was clearly something beneath them, too stupid to consider anything but liberated property even in those days. And for the people from whom his mother had descended, Alastor was a disgusting reminder of powerlessness, of perceived capitulation to the white man.

Even when he broke down the door, beat and bruised those within and eventually killed her... that was his right. His status made him untouchable.

A creature that hated his progeny for existing, and taking no ownership in what he had made, except in perpetuating cruelty again and again. Though when he was found deceased in the bayou, mercilesly hacked to pieces and half-devoured by gators, the whole town there such a to-do about it. As if he had mattered... as if he was a saint befallen of hard times.

But he was far from the only one of his ilk, and there was only so much time in the world to dispose of them. A neverending parade of people whom police would side with no matter what evidence remained at the scene.

Lucifer did suppress a smile at Mimzy's arrival in the narrative, watching the little lady hoist corpses and help in vivisections with a smile. Of course what the pair did was nightmarish... but... as a bastion of punishment and judgement himself, Lucifer could hardly fault them.

And then, a gunshot in the night and hunting dogs... and falling.

Lucifer had always assumed Sinners falling into Hell was meant as a parody of his own descent into darkness. But he'd never considered what it must be like to creatures who had never known flight, who had no experience with the swooping delight in their gut from diving and twirling through the air. To be tumbling from a height without any sense of bearing must be terrifying... and not all in his realm deserved the harsh concrete embrace of the realm.

Oh, Alastor's actions meant he did, of course... but not everyone.

Though he could empathise with the almost certain first death as they struck the ground. Their own human deaths still lingering in their nervous systems even as their forms changed beyond recognition...

With a wince, the King withdraws from the memories and rubs a concilliatory circle on the other's wrist. "I'm sorry..." he's not entirely sure what for exactly. Things had not had a happy start... how could one make a Winner out of someone who was shunned by society and the Good Christian Peoples from the moment of his conception?

It made the King doubt Heaven's insistance that sinners simply chose this life. What could have gone different for this man before him, for any like him, had they been born into a loving and accepting world?

What kind of people would his sinners be if they had had a different path? If Angel had been born in the current decade, he would just be another person... as would Alastor, and possibly even Husk too. He wasn't sure what the cat's deal was except he had a vice for gambling and drink... not exactly world ending sins.

Niffty... well, the one time he'd accidentally brushed against her skin when he found her sobbing, he got the impression of violence, and immaculate housekeeping and blood everywhere. He hadn't pried further... but it felt like she could have had another, better life, in a time away from the need to force people into marriages and roles from an early age, without anywhere to turn to when things went rotten.

He squints, a phantom ache behind his eyes that feels wildly unsettling. "Do you... sometimes feel the bullet is rattling about in your skull?"

"Don't fret over it. Much like your annual agony, it's only bothersome on certain anniversaries... or when the Devil goes rooting around in your being, apparently." He looks at the open sorrow on Lucifer's face. "Oh please don't strain yourself, Sire... it's hardly the worst way to die. You, yourself, must have been in greater discomfort on your fall..."

"No, I'm sorry that things were like that for you. On Earth. That's not the way we originally designed things at all... and... and it makes me think that maybe, just maybe, Heaven has made it almost impossible for people to be Winners unless they're excruciatingly lucky or very devout. Even then, you need to be born right in the middle of the right family, the right society, the right everything according to that place... the deck is stacked against you otherwise."

"Nevermind, Lucifer, you will find I am quite delighted to be here in Hell... there's so much to entertain me here! Why, I had the delightful pleasure of being able to kill my father TWICE! Not many can attest to such a feat." Alastor grinned, his free hand seemed to stretch out as if to summon his cane and twirl it... before faltering. "Ah, you will get to hear his screams another time then. Now, if you are feeling less miserable after our little heart to heart... perhaps we could, say, find a way to freshen you up for dinner?"

"Alastor... where's your little microphone thing?"

Crimson eyes narrow at him, and it's clear the other didn't want him to notice that little snafu. "Why it's recharging in my tower... overused it recently, after all." The deflection is near seamless.

"Okay..." Lucifer wasn't convinced. He was getting better at reading the perpetual grin, now they'd been up close and personal in an emotional crisis, and it seemed deceptive. "Did you want me to help you with that weird not-headache you have, like you did for me and my not-burning wings?"

"I-... I strongly suspect there's littel you can do, Majesty. There's nothing there to soothe..." Alastor admits, shifting his weight in uncertainty.

"Oh, but I might be able to pull the same trick you did... not sure about the other bites and scars, but I could at least tell your brain to ignore their signals until it stops." Lucifer suggests, sending concentrated pulses of energy up the Sinner's arm. He's just delighting in the shocked expression Alastor's sending his way at the alleviation of discomfort, when he finds it.

In an instant, he's yanked the other onto the couch and is pinning him down by straddling the other's hips. The King's wings ache as the shadows briefly flicker away as distorted radio signals spike through the air about them.

"What the fuck is this?" Lucifer growls, using one hand to pin the Overlord's wristsover his head and ignoring the menacing snarl he gets in response. Other hand tearing through the fabric between him and the sodden bandages. "Alastor, you idiot, do you have any idea how bad this is?"

It takes nothing at all to disperse them, leaving the injury out for all and sundry to see.

"Get. Off. Me."

"No. You came poking in here and harassed me out of my little comfortable nest of pain and self-loathing, so it's time I return the favour... before you drop double-dead." Lucifer grimaces, tracing lightly over the crude stitching.

Someone did an immaculate job initially, but it's clear that the stitches snapped at some point and Alastor had taken to piecing the skin back together himself with what must be a vestige of his shadows. Nothing is neat, not like the stitching Alasotr had managed on those poppets of his. But then, there's a difference between flesh and fabric...

"It's fine. Let me up and we shall not discuss this any further." Alastor attempts to negotiate.

"No, it's not. This is chock-full of Adam's essence... ugh, what a sentence... and it's trying really hard to consume you from the inside out. So just be a good little deer and, in the spirit of your new not-hate for each other as weird co-parents to my adult daughter, I'm going to save your life." Lucifer counters, gritting his teeth as he carefully runs a finger across the threads already in situ to dissolve them. Wound gaping almost obscenely before the edges start to heal so extremely slowly it was almost comical.

As he worked to tug the stubborn grace from the sinner, Lucifer couldn't help but note that for all of Alastor's verbal protesting, his shadows remained in place as a soothing balm on his wings and back. Charlie had spoken at length about how hard it can be to accept you need help, and even more difficult once it's supplied to you. Lucifer's going to assume that's what's happening here, it fits the narrative.

Carefully, he collects the golden glow and traps it within a swiftly summoned jar. That would need to be properly sealed later, to avoid someone else having it break free start poisoning whichever sinner was closest.

"It's okay, I'm nearly done... promise..." he mutters, automatically soothing like he used to with Charlie and sometimes even Lillith, when the everyday became fraught with illness and injury. "Just a little longer..."

With gentle persuasion, the last of the wound sealed itself from the inside out, finally drawing the whole situation to a close. If the Devil left his hand on the soft fluff of the other's chest a moment too long, well, perhaps he was merely checking that the slight scar remaining was the best he could do in terms of closing the injury.

"I don't think I can erase it completely." He apologises. "Angelic weapons always leave a mark, no matter how well you heal them..."

A sharp bark of laughter replies, startling the King, who finally realises he'd released Alastor's hands some time ago but had yet to be clawed, eviscerated or otherwise shoved off.

"Another scar to the collection is hardly something I will lose sleep over, little king... as you can see, I have been quite the connoisseur." Alastor retorts, and it may just be Lucifer's tired brain playing tricks like it so often did, but there seemed to be a new sparkle in those red eyes. The energetic nightmare was once more back to his normal high spirits.

"Oh, uh, you're welcome I guess?"

"Yes, how impolite of me... thank you for your unexpected gift of healing, that is... not how I anticipated our little chat to go, in all honesty." replied the demon, who then looked pointedly at their positioning. "Now, is there perhaps a... fee for this service that you are suggesting with our current arrangement... or shall we both make an appearance at dinner so dear Charlotte will not assume we've murdered one another?"

"I-... what-... You-... hold up a second, I wasn't implying anything... it's just easier to make sure I can reach the injury and stop you from hurting yourself while I did so. Unless you WANT something else to happen, but that's a whole other coversation and I'm way too tired to even consider it." Lucifer groaned internally as he heard his own rambling, why couldn't he get his mouth to stop?! "And also, let's get this straight... I would be hiding your body from Char Char, not the other way around, because let's be real... if Adam got you this bad, then you certainly can't take me."

"Ah, again with the propositioning, little King... I'm certain that I could take you. However, you couldn't handle me, I would love to show you your place, one day..." Alastor retorts, seemingly oblivious to the double entendres spilling freely from that sharp-toothed mouth.

Lucifer groans in exasperation. "Do you hear yourself? You need to stop talking before someone does something they'll regret..." He exhales in frustration. "Okay, okay, table that for another time. Where's your little staff? Did it get broken when you fought Adam?"

There's a petulant pause. "...yes."

"Can I see it?"

"Majesty, I thought we'd just gone past this and you're back to asking to see my majestic staff..." Alastor allows a dramatic yelp as he's whacked across the ear for that one.

"Stop it!" Lucifer is barely containing his laughter now.

"You're the one who wants to take my staff in hand, after all..."

"Keep it up, smartass and I'll fuck you!"

"...it's fuck you up, majesty."

"That's not what I said."

The room goes dead silent as the tell-tale radio noise fades out. Alastor looks, aptly enough, like a deer in headlights.

"What?"

A very amused grin creeps across Lucifer's face. "Oho-ho, so I've finally found a way to catch you off-guard, little buck..."

Despite how awful this initial interaction had started out, Lucifer found himself relaxing into the familiar pattern of banter, turnabout wordplay and now... victory, with the Overlord. Today could have gone worse, and historically always had... but this, this was enough to make his brain settle.

"Unsportsmanlike conduct, seducing the other team without fair warning." Alastor threw out, clearly having no idea where to go with this. "Might I remind you that we have a dinner engagement in..."

"Five minutes, if that clock's right... yeah, yeah you're right. I need to look less like I've been a sobbing mess all day, and you... need to cover that body up before I decide to have dessert before dinner." Lucifer mumbled, absently, staring at the fluff his hands were wrist deep in. It was so SOFT.

He momentarily wondered if Angel Dust's was the same, or thicker. The arachnid sure had offered to let him pet it enough times since he started living here. And shook the thought free, feeling odly disloyal, despite not being in a relationship with Alastor.

He yelped slightly as Alastor shadow-stepped to the side, appearing upright behind him as the Overlord began to rebutton his shirts.

"Well, we mustn't keep the others waiting. It was Angel's turn to cook tonight, so we may have something edible for once, and I for one am famished after that little heart to heart." Alastor adds, his static skipping as Lucifer snaps his fingers and both demons get a magical once-over. Skin clean and feeling freshly showered, attire back in place immaculately.

"True. I-... hmmmm." Lucifer pauses as he eyes his wings. "Can your shadows follow my wings into their dimensional pocket, if I put them away?"

Alastor thinks a moment. "I don't see why not, we can but try."

Slowly, braced for an outcome wherein the shadows slip away and the pain returned full force, Lucifer retracts the wings... with minimal fuss. The back of his shirt did have an unusual black backing where normally pristine white reigned supreme. However, that was it.

"It worked? It Worked!" Lucifer crowed. He whirled, enthusiastically, on Alastor. "Now, give me your stick!"

Predictably, with a hand to his brow like an offended dowager, the sinner replied, "Why Majesty, we're not even officially courting yet and you make such crude demands of-..."

"Oh come off it, you dork, now hand over the microphone and I'll fix it before dinner. We're got like ninety seconds and counting..."

Alastor's shadow swirled up from the floor to deposit the broken staff in the King's hands. The microphone lay dead and unresponsive in his grasp.

"Well, that's pretty fucked up... let's see if I can get it working again." Lucifer said, his nebulous power swirling about both fists as he clenched the staff tightly. With a snapping twist, he slammed the halves together in a thunderclap of sound and brilliant light. Forcing the tiniest trace of residual grace out of the item.

"Here you go, I think I fixed it. Been a while since I needed to coax a foci back to life like that, but what can I say? Always been talented with my hands."

Alastor took the microphone reverently, lighting up as the little eye opened again and power surged between the two like a closed circuit. "Hello old friend, it appears the show is able to go on after all... thanks to his little Majesty."

"Hey, enough with the Littl-...mmmph?!"

As swiftly as the kiss came, it was gone.

"Thank you, Lucifer. You have brought back something of great value. Without my foci it has been difficult to provide the defense that the hotel required, so I'm sure it will benefit us all in time." Alastor smoothed over the moment. "And as for those magic hands..."

Lucifer was going to have the first angelic heart attack if the other didn't finish his sentence.

"...would they care to come to my room later, to share in a duet with me? I noted your fiddle skills were quite advanced, and I have had few opportunities to play the piano in company these past few decades."

Lucifer's heartbeat skyrocketed, joy filling the former angel. With a bright grin, he nodded enthusiastically.

"It's a date, then!" he grinned.

Alastor paused by the doorway, glancing back for a long moment as if considering what had just happened. Finally, he nodded, a truly delighted grin sliding into place under the false smile on his face.

"Indeed it is. Now, let us head to dinner before an emergency hug therapy intervention is called, and the whole staff burst in here. You do not wish to be on the receiving end of one of those, trust my word on that one." Alastor advises, sauntering out.

Lucifer trailed behind him, slightly giddy... but also now questioning what in the seven rings the aforementioned intervention would look like.

Ah, he loved his darling daughter... but she had some very strange ideas sometimes. Must take after Lillith then, hthe King of Rubber Ducks thought, with no hint of irony.

---------

End

Just a random story that was meant to be like a four line headcanon that spiralled wildly out of control.

#lucifer #alastor #radioapple to a degree #wrote this in a blurb mb if something doesn't make sense

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