#alastor is a middle aged man…

[doorknobinmyayuss]

This just makes me think alastor Has trail-mix in his pocket at all times. Sneaking little bits when no one is looking…

If he likes you he will offer you a dried cranberry 🍒

Headcannon Alastor Nibbler.

Apparently, Deer are nibblers. They eat some fruit around here, walk a little and eat some leaves , maybe find something else to chew on. The thing is that sometimes they don't finish what they have. And although, I also have an Alastor who lived through the Great Depression and he would never not finish his food and would never let food go to waste, part of his new instincts upon arriving in hell, including being a nibbler.

So in the safety of his room, sometimes his table is an amalgam of things, from dishes he prepared with his mother, to delicacies from Rosie's Emporium and some other sweets, but with fruits. (deer like fruits and berries, especially their leaves).

[lxkeee]

HEAVEN AND BACK !

—Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Romance

Warnings: Love at first sight, fast paced romance and mentions of domestic ab*se.

Notes: to the anon who requested the platonic Alastor x Mom! Reader it would be part of this:)

Synopsis: In which Alastor's mother went down to hell to oversee the hotel's progress and met the king of hell.

Word count: 4.6k words

PART TWO | NAVIGATION

[Y/n] lived a good and honest life, a simple housewife with one son. After finally separating with her abusive husband, her life with her son, Alastor had become better. Alastor promised that he'll support her through his radio hosting, the boy has become quite popular amongst the folks—with his wits and charm, he was able to make a reputation for himself and earn money better for him and her.

[Y/n] was finally happy, proud of what she and her son have accomplished. She doesn't have to worry about her ex-husband coming home to hurt her or her son.

After the divorce, not a few weeks later, her husband was found dead with several of his body parts missing. She and her son were questioned about it but nothing could connect them to the crime and was proven innocent.

Alastor comforted her about it, promising to protect her if the killer ever hurt her. Which calmed her down as the whole situation did affect her, despite her harboring hatred towards her ex-husband, she felt bad he got murdered in a brutal way possible.

Peace and happiness didn't last long for her unfortunately, some fight happened in the city when she was out for an errand and she got in the middle of the crossfire, getting herself shot twice—on her shoulder and one in her stomach. She bled to death.

[Y/n] briefly remembers a tall black haired man walking towards her, black wings on his back while carrying a large golden scythe on his hand.

“[y/n] [l/n], age is 44 years old, destination is heaven.” the man says with an amused tone in his voice. A smile found its way to her lips, this must be death then? I am sorry Alastor, I can no longer watch over you. She thought sadly, and then suddenly darkness.

[Y/n] woke up with a gasp, her eyes staring at the bright blue skies. Blinking, disoriented about what just happened. She looked at her side to see clouds, clouds everywhere. Even the ground she's lying on is clouds.

“Where... Am I...?” she mutters as she sits, finally turning around to see the gates that are shining ever so brightly, the radiant rays of the sun reflecting against the golden gate.

“Am I... In heaven...?” she asked herself softly, eyes widening as she remembers what happened. The fight in the city, getting shot—twice, bleeding to death.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, as the reality that she died finally settled in. “No, no, no, no, no!” she said to herself, her hands covering her mouth to stop herself from crying. Her smile now lowering, already tired of keeping it up. She was the one who taught her son to always smile in any situation, but this...? She can't keep it up any longer. So she cried, hysterically. Her cries echoing throughout the skies.

She's dead, that means she won't see her son ever again. Her son will be alone, she can't be there for him!

It took a while for her to finally calm down, with a shaky breath she got off the cloudy grounds and approached the gate. An angel sitting behind the counter at the side of the gate is what she saw.

“Welcome to heaven, can I get your name please?” the man says with a smile, [y/n] stood there nervously, “[y/n] [l/n].” she says softly and watched as the male flipped through his thick book, “[y/n] Alberich, [y/n] Gunnhildr, [y/n] Lawrence [y/n] Kreideprinz, [y/n] Ragnvindr...” the angel mutters as he flips through his book, [y/n] stood awkwardly as she watches him.

The angel's finger finally stopped at a name and his smile became brighter, “Aha! There it is, [y/n] [l/n]... Please, come inside. I Saint Peter, officially welcome you to heaven.” the angel also known as Saint Peter says with a smile, the gates of heaven opening up for her.

[Y/n] nodded and hesitantly walked to the gate, passing by it and finally got inside the heavenly city.

Her new life after death. She hopes her son will join her here when his time comes, for now, she'll enjoy her new life.

It has been a few years, decades even. Still no sign of Alastor, she wonders if Alastor was gifted with a long life, something she didn't have? After getting inside heaven, they are not allowed to check up on their remaining loved ones on earth as they are not allowed to and [y/n] respected that, she'll wait for her son to join her here. She does miss her son, she wonders how he's doing, especially after her death. She can't imagine the pain he felt after her passing. She wonders if he's in purgatory if that place ever exists, she prays that her beloved son isn't in hell. Not her Alastor.

During her time here, she somehow became a well respected angel, becoming a seraphim angel and helping around heaven, overseeing important matters around the heavenly realm. [Y/n] befriended another seraphim angel named Emily, the girl is wonderful to be around with! Very positive and such a kind girl. [Y/n] enjoys having her around.

Recently, a secret has just been revealed during a court meeting with hell's princess, the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, [y/n] read about him and she believes that the angel didn't do anything wrong, just misunderstood but this belief is something she keeps to herself, in fear of the others throwing her out for that small reason.

All throughout the trial Charlotte Morningstar expressed valid arguments, showing that souls can really improve their ways.

It was revealed that the exorcists were going down to hell to cleanse them, a sugar coated word for killing. The fact that Sera agreed to it was ridiculous but [y/n] can't do anything about it, she is just a mortal soul after all. She can't argue with the high seraphim and risk herself getting thrown out of heaven.

[Y/n] can only pray that Charlie's plan will work.

After that meeting, [y/n] can sensed that high ranking angels trust on Sera significantly lowered.

[Y/n] and Emily spent most of their free time researching, finding ways to help Charlie achieve her dreams for her people.

It has been a day since the cleansing started, [y/n] was in the seraphim office together with Sera and Emily doing important paperwork when suddenly a bright light fills the room and out emerged a familiar snake they [y/n] saw during the court meeting when Charlie was showing Angel Dust, she could briefly remember this snake man to be one of Angel Dust's and Charlie's friend. The one who announced he'll have sex with everyone at the club, she definitely didn't forget about that. The only difference is that the man's color themes changed.

“Huh? Wha...? Where am I?” he says as he looks around the unfamiliar place.

[Y/n] covers her mouth in disbelief while Emily squeaked beside her, turning around to look at the other two seraphim, Sera was in disbelief, [y/n] can't tell what the older woman is feeling right now.

Turning back to look at the new guest, [y/n] gave the man a small wave and the man gave her an awkward smile while waving back, “Oh... Hello!” he says and [y/n] giggles and Emily squeaks beside her.

“Hi! Welcome to heaven!” Emily cheers, the man's eyes widened. “I'm in heaven...?” he says in disbelief and [y/n] nodded, “Yes, this is heaven and you're currently in the office of the Seraphims. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Pentious or dare I say... Sir Redemptious?” [y/n] says with a small and gentle chuckle, chuckling at her own joke. Emily giggled at the joke while Sera remained flabbergasted.

Sir Pentious blinks in confusion, “You know me?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Emily nodded, a bright smile on her face, “Yes! But it is a long story.” she says with a large smile.

“But first, let us introduce ourselves.” [y/n] says with a small smile, a smile that seems awfully familiar to Sir Pentious but less... Threatening.

[Y/n] clears her throat, “It is an honor to meet you, Sir Pentious. I am [y/n] [l/n] one of the seraphims.” she introduces and Emily follows after, “Hi! I am Emily but you can call me Em, Emmy, Ly... It is a pleasure to meet you!” Emily says excitedly, approaching Sir Pentious' side and admiring him, circling him and taking in his new appearance.

“And this,” [y/n] says, extending her arms towards Sera, “This is Sera, the head Seraphim.” [y/n] says which snapped Sera out of her thoughts. Sera cleared her throat, finally back to her authoritative self.

“Greetings, Sir Pentious. I am Sera, the head Seraphim. I would like to formally welcome you to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” Sera says and Emily nodded excitedly while [y/n] just gave a small nod with a gentle smile on her face.

“I'm not dreaming...?” Sir Pentious says in disbelief and [y/n] shook her head, “I can assure you that you are not dreaming right now.”

Emily tilts her head in confusion, finally realizing something. “How come he arrived immediately here and not at the gates...?” she asked and [y/n] hummed, she too was baffled by this, placing a hand on her chin as she began to think.

“Perhaps... He's another Seraphim?” [y/n] asked, snapping her fingers and she smirked as she noticed Sera's eye twitches. Interesting... [Y/n] thought, a subtle smirk on her face, finding the situation interesting.

“How about I show you around? I'll let the grownups handle your stay here.” Emily says, Sir Pentious looked at the girl, “I hope that my egg bois are here.” he says with glassy eyes and Emily let's out a small 'aweee' and patting the back of the man, “I am sure they are here.” Emily says as she pulls the man out of the office.

[Y/n] turned to look at Sera, a mischievous grin on her face. Sera sighs, a frown on her face. “Don't say it.” Sera muttered and [y/n] chuckles, “What...? I am not saying anything yet.” she says with a mischievous tone. Sera rolls her eyes at the woman.

“I was in the wrong, the hotel does work.” Sera says, disbelief that it does. “[y/n]. I want you to go down there and make sure that the hotel runs smoothly.” Sera says and [y/n]  blinked, confused on what the woman was planning, “Why me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her smile not leaving her face.

“Just do it.” Sera deadpans and [y/n] shrugs, still has a small smile on her face, “Alright, whatever the boss says.” she shrugs.

“Make sure it runs smoothly but don't tell them he's here, I fear it will influence the sinners. I want them to work hard for it, and work hard for something that they are unsure of.” Sera says, walking out of her table, walking across the room and stood in front of the window, gazing outside the office of the Seraphims.

[Y/n] looked at the woman's back, Sera's wings neatly folded behind her. [Y/n] nodded in agreement, understanding where she's coming from.

“Understood, when shall I start?” [y/n] asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“Next week, let them rebuild the hotel. Do you understand your mission, [y/n]?” Sera says, turning around to look at her, [y/n] kneels down gracefully, a hand over her heart.

“Affirmative.” [y/n] says softly and Sera nodded, “Good.”

[Y/n]'s head peaked through the small gap of Sir Pentious' door as she opens it, her eyes soften as she sees Emily and Sir Pentious talking and multiple egg boys asleep on the bed. Knocking to catch their attention, the two looked at the very tall angel woman standing by the door, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hello, Sir Pent. I hope you're comfortable with your new room. I see that Emi is warming up to you which isn't surprising.” [y/n] giggles and Emily smiles and nodded excitedly.

“Speaking of [y/n], she's like a mom to everyone! She's so nice, I hope you two will get along!” Emily says happily, [y/n] presumes that Emily was talking about other angels before she came inside the room. [Y/n] smiles and gives the two a gentle nod, “That is me, if you have any problem... Feel free to approach me okay?” [y/n] says with a closed eyed smile, Sir Pentious eyes sparkled and a small blush on his cheeks as he could literally feel the gentle warmth of the woman.

[Y/n] just smiles and tilts her head before looking at Emily, “Anyways, I just came to check up on you two on how you two are doing. I'll be leaving now, you two have fun okay?” [y/n] says softly and Emily nodded, “Okay! I'll see you later Miss [y/n]!” Emily says and then Sir Pentious nodded and gave a wave to the woman. The two watched the older and taller woman leave the room.

[Y/n] walks away from Sir Pentious' room, walking past multiple doors that decorated the hallway—these are rooms that souls occupy and sooner, Sir Pentious' room will be upgraded since the man is a seraphim after all.. Entering the elevator, [y/n] presses a button—a button to her floor. The door closes.

[Y/n] sighs as she feels the elevator moving upwards, her mind buzzing with multiple thoughts. Taking mental notes on what to bring for her time in hell, she'll have to oversee the hotel after all.

The door opens, [y/n] steps out of the elevator, walking past by multiple doors (but the doors are much lesser than the floor Sir Pentious was in), these hallways are the rooms of the Seraphims.

Her feet stopped, coming to a halt. Holding the doorknob, the symbol of the doorknob glows, signifying that the owner of the room returned and in turn, and unlocked the door.

Stepping inside, she closes the door behind her. Time to pack.

Timeskip a few days later.

[Y/n] stood at the opposite side of Sera's table, her hands holding her luggage, Sera the high Seraphim sat on her seat looking at the taller woman. Emily standing beside Sera, the smaller girl looked at [y/n] with a slight worried look but still had a smile on her face. [Y/n] is proud that Emily continuously applied her teachings, you're never fully dressed without a smile, as what she always tells the girl.

“Goodluck, Miss [y/n]!” Emily says with a grin on her face, [y/n] chuckles at the girl's enthusiasm and nodded nonetheless.

“Do not disappoint us.” Sera says, [y/n]'s eyes narrowed slightly but her smile never faltered. [Y/n] nodded, a charming tone in her voice, “No promises.” she says with a grin and Sera rolls her eyes and then snaps her fingers, opening a portal for the taller angel.

[Y/n] waved goodbye at the two and stepped into the portal.

The bright blue scenario was replaced with a dark red one, a door was in front of her, a glass tinted door depicting apples and snakes.

Placing down her luggage, she curls up her fingers and then knocks on the door.

Loud knocks were heard against the tinted glass doors of the hotel, the sounds momentarily cutting off the conversation the hotel dwellers were having.

Angel Dust raises his eyebrows as he looks at the door, Husk stopping midway of drying up a freshly cleaned glass. Niffty just resumes cleaning the lobby of the hotel, Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch with Charlie's head on Vaggie's lap, Cherri is passed out drunk on the counter of the mini bar, and Alastor was just grinning as he sat on the cushioned chair.

Getting off Vaggie's lap, Charlie Morningstar walked towards the door, getting a very strong sense of deja vu. Opening it and seeing a very tall smiling angel looking down on her, a familiar angel that she saw when she had the court meeting in heaven, she remembers that this woman stood at the opposite side of Emily. Charlie never got to actually meet her or know her.

“Good eveni—” the angel started but was cut off as Charlie closed the door.

Turning around to look at her friends, a look of disbelief on her face. There's an angel in her front door, there is a SERAPHIM ANGEL IN HER FRONT DOOR.

“Vaggie?” Charlie calls out to her girlfriend nervously, Vaggie gave her a raised eyebrow, “What?” she asked.

“There's a seraphim angel at the door.” Charlie says, pointing towards the door. This promptly made everyone freeze.

“Oh my fucking god... I swear, what do they want this time..?” Angel sighs loudly, Vaggie standing up and getting her angelic weapon.

Charlie took a deep breath and opened the door once more, the same tall angel looking down on her with a gentle smile on her face, “May I speak now?” she asked and Charlie nodded nervously with a smile, the angel laughed, though she is experiencing major deja vu at the moment, “Relax, I am not here to cause trouble. Keep smiling darling, you're never fully dressed without one~!” she says with a giggle and Charlie nervously puts a smile on her face.

“Hi... My name is Charlie and you are...?” Charlie introduces herself shyly, a little flustered. The woman was very gorgeous and... Tall...

The angel shakes the girl's hand enthusiastically, “I know, my name is [y/n], it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Morningstar.” [y/n] says with a giggle but quickly stopping as an angelic spear was pointed at her, Vaggie muttering something in Spanish underneath her breath.

“What is a seraphim angel doing here? Last time I checked, you guys hated us.” Vaggie sneers and [y/n] just smiled, using her pointer finger to push away the spear gently away from her, “Hate you...? No, no, no dearie... It's just Sera, she's... How to say it... An old time bitch.” [y/n] deadpans with a chuckle.

Charlie and Vaggie blinked at her words, in disbelief at how a seraphim can easily say something like that quite easily.

[Y/n] flicked her hand dismissively, “Ugh, I don't like her that much.” she sighs and chuckles, her eyes returning back to look at the two shorter girls.

“Let us forget about her for a moment, the reason I am here is that Sera wanted me to oversee the hotel and keep track if it makes any progress.” [y/n] explained, her pointer finger pointed up as she nodded to herself.

Vaggie narrows her eyes at her but decides not to question it but still held some suspicion of the woman. Vaggie thought that the angel reminds her of someone, but who?

Charlie just looked at the woman, in disbelief that Heaven changed its mind. Though, she too held some slight suspicion but decided not to think too much of it, moving to the side to allow the woman to pass through the tinted glass doors of the hotel.

“Very well then, please come in.” Charlie says and [y/n] gave the girl a curt bow and invited herself in.

[Y/n] admired the interior of the hotel, her eyes sparkling in admiration as she appreciates the design of the building. The interior is filled with so many red, white, gold, and black hues—a contrast to what she was used to in heaven. Charlie closes the door behind them and starts leading the taller woman back to the lobby.

“My, this hotel is very beautiful.” [y/n] says genuinely as she follows the shorter girls as they lead her towards the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel.

Finally arriving at the lobby where the other hotel members were staying, [y/n] surveyed each one of them carefully. The man who resembled a red deer oddly reminded her of someone.

Alastor was quite interested in who the person Charlie was talking to by the door.

His eyes widened, his smile faltering slightly as he saw the woman he's long last seen and the most he has missed.

“Everyone, heaven decided to send someone to oversee the hotel's progress. This is [y/n], she is a seraphim. I hope you treat her with respect.” Charlie says with a small smile. The name makes Alastor's ears ring.

He couldn't stop himself as the words left his lips, “Mother...?” Alastor says with wide eyes and a smile still on his face.

Silence.

Angel Dust's and Husk's jaw dropped. Seeing a new facial reaction of the always smiling man.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands, she was right. Why was he here? Why was her beloved son here in hell?

“Alastor...? My sweetie is that you...?” [y/n] asked shakily, her hands trembling, in disbelief.

Alastor hesitantly nodded, nervous. He didn't expect to reunite with her. How can he explain this to her? How can he explain the reason why he ended in hell?

“No fucking way...” Angel Dust muttered, in disbelief.

Tears began to stream down [y/n]'s cheeks as she let go of her luggage and quickly hugged her son, he looked so different.

“My sweet son, it really is you... Why are you here?!” She asked, cupping Alastor's face comfortingly. Alastor avoided her gaze.

“Mother... It has been awhile, I have done things that lead me down here.” Alastor explained calmly, a smile still on his face but he is fighting back tears. He missed her so much, after her death he was miserable. He found out the reason she died and killed the two men who caused her death.

[Y/n]'s eyes soften and she placed a gentle kiss on her son's forehead, Alastor instinctively closing his eyes at the contact. Warmth, he forgot what comforting warmth felt like.

“Now, now... I'm sure it couldn't be that bad...?” [y/n] says with a small chuckle and failing to notice the other hotel members giving each other a side eye.

Well... It was fun being an overlord. Alastor thought to himself as he took a deep breath and began to explain it to his mother, the reason why he's in hell.

“ALASTOR [L/N] WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME DO YOU MEAN YOU KILLED PEOPLE?!” [Y/n] seethes as she chases after her son, holding her shoe in her hand. Alastor trying to save his own life from his seething mother.

“Mother I can explain—!”

The others just watched as the angelic woman chased the most terrifying demon they know around the hotel.

“This is so fucking funny.” Cherri mutters beside Angel Dust, Husk having a smirk on his face as he watches his boss getting chased around by his mother.

“Well... I hope they'll stop soon or dad will come down to see what the ruckus is about.” Charlie says, nervous that they are causing too much ruckus. She knows her dad needs the quiet time to make his rubber duckies.

Lucifer was in his room writing something on his desk, he just finished making a rubber duckie sometime ago and now he's currently writing plans for the hotel.

Well... Trying to.

His eye twitched as he heard the loud ruckus happening downstairs. With a sigh, he lets go of his fountain pen. Standing up from his seat, curious on what is happening downstairs, he left his room and went downstairs.

What the king of hell didn't expect to see was the annoying radio demon getting scolded by... An angel? And good lord, she's... Tall. Though, he couldn't see her face as her back was facing him.

“I thought I raised you better than this? Good heavens, I thought you were better than this?” the woman sobs and leans against the radio demon, sobbing into his shoulder while Alastor hesitantly comforts her. Lucifer was trying not to laugh as the radio demon gave him the middle finger.

“Who's this?” Lucifer asked and his daughter nervously approached him, “Well, this is [y/n] and heaven thought it would be a good idea to send someone to oversee our progress of the hotel.” Charlie explains and Lucifer's eyebrows are raised in confusion, confused on what changed their mind.

“I am truly sorry mother, it won't happen again,” Alastor says softly, still smiling while his mother lets go of him and flicks the radio demon's forehead making the taller man yelp in pain.

Charlie smiled and clapped her hands together, “Miss [y/n], this is my father and you might as well know him as Lucifer Morningstar.” Charlie says and the woman turns around to look at them.

And oh my devil, none of these thoughts are in the bible.

Lucifer thought as he finally took a good look at the very tall angel. She's gorgeous. Very gorgeous. The white dress she was wearing perfectly captured her figure, complimenting her skin. Her halo glowing above her head like the rays of the sun shining down on her. Absolutely divine. Lucifer blinks, trying to comprehend the beauty of the woman in front of him.

Angel Dust looking at him with a smirk, without him realizing.

[Y/n]'s eyes sparkled, quickly shoving Alastor away as she approached the shorter man, “Oh my stars, really? It's an honor to meet you, I've read about you and quite frankly I don't believe you got the justice you deserved.” [y/n] explains, she has to kneel down as her neck was starting to hurt at looking down.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised that an angel held him in such high regard.

“Wait... Huh??” Lucifer says in disbelief making the woman chuckle, and goodness, even her laugh sounds so beautiful.

“I am grateful that you gave us free will, if it weren't for you... Humans couldn't control their own fate, their own actions and for that, thank you.” she says sincerely and unexpectedly, a single tear streamed down Lucifer's cheek. Nobody really cared to say their thanks to him, he just assumed that humanity hated him for his actions, as heaven hated him for it. To see and hear someone say their thanks to him for the first time, may have healed some wounds he was desperately trying to heal with a bandaid.

The angel panicked when she saw the tear, “Oh my stars! Did I offend you?! Oh gosh, I didn't mean to.”

Lucifer began to chuckle and laugh. Amused at the woman's personality.

Charlie wonders if her dad finally went insane.

“Since when did angels be so nice to me?” Lucifer asked in-between chuckles, finally calming down as he offered his hand for a handshake.

“My name's Lucifer, darling. It's a pleasure to meet you...?” Lucifer says with a toothy grin but his charm and confidence were replaced by shyness and embarrassment as the angel opted to kiss his knuckles instead.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lucifer. I am [y/n], a seraphim angel.” she says with a smile, almost smirking, her tone almost sensual.

Lucifer was flabbergasted, flustered. Blinking animatedly, his mind is still trying to comprehend what just happened. So many things are happening at once, the warmth of his cheeks, the loud thumping of his heart against his own ribcage, he prays that she couldn't hear it.

Angel Dust nudges Charlie, giving the girl a knowing smirk. Charlie just gave him a confused look, unsure what he meant, saying something to angel along the lines of, my dad's reaction is valid, have you seen her?

The apple doesn't really fall far from the tree, Angel Dust thought as he cackles in amusement.

Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly at the interaction. Vaggie cautious at the radio demon's reaction.

Well, this is interesting. Husk thought to himself, already prepared of the chaos that's going to happen now with an additional member of the hotel.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34

[simpsdept]

Rosie x Alastors wife reader!

A/n: hii! I hope this is good! I tried my best to fit in with her character

(Requested:shugar0cone)

-The first time you both met was through Alastor, obviously.

-You entered Cannibal town and it was actually pretty nice, just like Alastor had told you.

-And it was pretty peaceful, despite the cannibalism every now and then.

-Alastor brought you over to a nice, old style looking building, it kinda reminded you of Alastor’s style, which you loved.

-Instantly you notice a lovely woman also known as Rosie, the over lord and the owner of the cannibal colony.

-Alastor dragged you over to her, with a smiling face and waved over to her.

“Well well well, look who it is! Alastor my old pall”, Rosie exclaimed with a large smile as she walked over to you two. “It’s been ages deary, where have you been?”, She then looked over to you, and smiled, taking your hands. “Oh! And who’s this lovely dear?”

Alastor let out a chuckle, his smile never faltering. “This my dear, is my lovely wife, [name]!” You waved nervously at the cannibal overlord.

“Oh! I would have never guessed!” Rosie smiled, happy. “Now tell me dear, how did Alastor here score such a lovely lady like yourself?” She smiled, you smile back, you were about to speak up but she spoke first. “Oh why don’t you come have some tea with me dear? I would love to get to know you more!”

You smiled and nodded at her offer. “Alright then, thank you”. You and Rosie both left together, Rosie speaking to you, as Alastor was left to stand there alone.

-After that event you two have grown pretty close together. Having tea together or hosting small parties for friends were often on your schedule.

-You two definitely gossip together, a lot. You’re basically just two adult women with the minds of a middle schooler, gossiping about a lot of people, especially Susan.

-You both totally gossip a little about Alastor too. You’re his wife but it’s fun to talk about the weird or strange things he does to Rosie, resulting in Rosie using them against Alastor playfully later.

-You’re never jealous of Rosie and Alastor being close. It’s obvious their friends, and Rosie’s to sweet to actually get with a man that’s already taken, and Alastor would never cheat on you. He is a gentleman when it comes to his ladies.

-She will offer you limbs and parts of demons for you to eat, if you take them then eating demons for snacks would be something both of you eat on a daily basis together

-If not then she’ll respect your decision and will try her best to make food you actually will eat, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible during the times you hang out.

-Best girl to get help or advice from. She’s literally the best. No one can compete. She’ll sit and listen to any problems you have, whether it’s relationship problems with Alastor, or something different. She’ll give you the most genuine advice she could give you

-I’d like to think you both enjoy wearing matching outfits together. Just two best friends wearing stunning clothes. She’ll definitely try to get you into her style, and you most likely will.

-Overall she’s your perfect, sweet gossiping bestie

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

Swipe (Lucifer morningstar x reader)

Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)

Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so-

Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6

I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-

Part 1 of 3

Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying, Lucifer straight up cat fishing reader,

No one’s POV

Lucifer was a wreck after his divorce with Lilith. Becoming the shell of the man he was, going from a family-oriented to a man who barely talk to anyone. After visiting his daughter and her hotel, he knew he had to be there, he already missed so much he wasn’t gonna miss another second of it. Becoming the best father he could also meant moving on, it’s been seven years since the separation. Charlie knew her Dad had been in pain since the divorce but she could tell, he was trying and she was going to be there.

Lucifer’s POV

“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app?  “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.

Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“

“Charlie!”

We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen. 

I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.

Lucifer..

Luci…

Luc…

Luca..

Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.

Y/N POV

Left..Left..Left..

God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…

…Right.

“CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” Popped up on my screen in red shades, with the little duck icon. “…that was quick” I think to myself. I click on the little message option.

Y/N - Hi :)

No ones POV

Lucifer layed there looking at the profiles, this was dating. More like brothel. He could barely understand, after swiping left a few times he chose to just turn off his phone, it was a mistake to think an app could help. Almost as soon as Lucifer sat his phone down his phone went off, illuminating the room …then it went off again.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow picking up his phone to see two notifications, both from Viva. Seeing a match with someone named Y/N and a message from them. Lucifer felt himself lose the ability to breathe, “A match?” Lucifer asked himself, confused on what that meant, he open the Add to be greeted my the words “CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” And the icon that belong to Y/N.

The icon was a photo of Y/N. Lucifer’s eyes lit up and he finally let out a breath. He admired their features. Their H/C H/L that looked perfect, their E/C eyes drew him in. He clicked the image see their profile, he was greeted my a normal photo of you, it stood out. Lucifer saw the message illuminating in corner of the screen, he let out a breath and opened the message and saw a simple

Y/N - “Hi :)”

I sat their staring at the message before typing himself

Luca - Hi

Time skip (why? Because I fucking said so.)

Over the past few weeks, Lucifer and Y/N talked every day. Learning every little detail of each other. Lucifer learned about your job, your friends, how you lived and how you died even. He couldn’t help but want to know everything.

Y/N learned he had a daughter and that he’d been “recently divorced”, his words not theirs. Y/N learned that he loves ducks and creating new duck toys, he was a big dork, like a big puppy dog. Of course you didn’t know you were talking to Lucifer himself, you thought you were talking to a man named Luca…

During Lucifer’s now frequent visit to his daughter and her little Hazbin hotel, Charlie couldn’t help but notice how her dad was one his phone more then usual, usual being never. Naturally, Charlie was curious. “Sooo..” Charlie started, a little unsure what to say about her fathers new found internet obsession. “Who are you talking to?” Charlie ask curious.

Lucifer was quick to meet his daughters eyes and quickly put his phone face down on the table . “No one!” He said in an almost scream, before it buzzed again..and again…and again. Charlie eyes went between her dads now sweating face and and his phone. Before Lucifer could even react, Charlie reached for his phone. “Wait!” Lucifer said reaching for his phone from her hands, the phone screen lite up and Charlie was greeted my 4 notifications from someone named Y/N from Viva. Charlie gasp turning quickly turning to face him, Charlie’s face lite up like Christmas lights. “YOUR TALKING TO SOMEONE?!” Charlie squealed from excitement, since she helped set up his password she quickly opened his phone to see more.

“Charlie don’t-“ Lucifer started to say before seeing her face fall from its happy to confused. “Wait..” Charlie said looking at his profile, “why is your name ‘Luca’?” Charlie ask her eyes moving from his phone finally to be greeted with Lucifer’s red face “well…,” Lucifer started, “I wasn’t comfortable putting my name and photo on there so…I put a different name and photo.” Charlie’s face went from suprise to more annoyed, not angry, just disappointed. “Dad you can’t just do that!” Charlie said to her father, her free rubbing her face. “You can’t just catfish her!”

Lucifer looked confused, catfish? Like the animal? “Catfish?” Lucifer asked, truly not understanding the term. “Yes dad you can’t just lie about who you are to someone like that!” Charlie said scolding her father. Lucifer after that was able to put two and two together, the weight of what he’s been hit him like a bus. “Dad,” Charlie said letting out a sigh, “you have to come clean to them.” She said as she handed him his phone. “Char ITS not that easy!” Lucifer said taking the phone from then hand seeing them newest text, her caring words, them asking if he he’s eaten, remind him to take care of himself, her word hit his heart hard. “It’s not a normal situation, I’m the king of hell, not some random sinner!” Lucifer said he eyes not leaving the illuminated screen. “Dad, they’re gonna find out sooner or later, it’s better if you do it now, early into you talking then later..”

Lucifer stated quiet, he knew deep down she was right, he did truly like them and want more with them, he could only imagine how you’d react if he waited much longer it’s already been a few weeks… Lucifer let out a sigh and looked up at his daughter. “your right..” he said quietly, “I’ll tell them just…give me time..” Charlie stared for a moment before letting before smiling again. “Just do it soon dad…” Lucifer knew she was right.

Later that night Lucifer layed in his bed, looking at her last message, contemplating how to tell them, shoudl he texted it, no they’d think he’s joking, “maybe…” he though out loud. “A FaceTime..?” He asked himself, no, he didn’t even know how to start one… maybe…a date? You’d know he wasn’t lying about being satan himself, he could explain better then over a device and he could only imagine how beautiful you were in person… Lucifer looked down at the message you last send hesitation purged his mind, but slowly he began to type.

Luca - hey, can I ask you something?

Y/N - of course ask anything! :)

Luca - I was thinking he could go out sometime? Like a date going out.

After a a minute he saw you typing a new message. He could already feel his heart race a mile a minute, he felt a cold sweat form. Why was he so nervous? Then a little buzz when off, it was you he was hesitant but swipe to open the message.

Y/N - wait really? You wanna go on a date with me??

Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat before typing with shaky fingers.

Luca - yes Y/N I really do.

Y/N - Yes I’d love to!! ❤️

Lucifer’s eyes lit up seeing you answer in only seconds, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter at the simple heart emoticon. Soon you both planned to meet for dinner the next night at a nice restaurant, named killer appetite, closer to the center of pentagram city, then he hit him…you both were actually going on a date. Together…

Y/N’s POV

When I saw his message asking me out, I could have screamed. He actually wanted to see me! I quickly typed and agreed to it. We chose dinner at a nice high end restaurant closer to the center of the city, I’ve heard of the place it was up scale. I was so ecstatic.

The next day at work couldn’t have gone slower, it felt like every minute was a hour long but as soon as that clock hit five, I was out the door racing home to get ready.As soon I was ready, my hair and outfit was perfect. I was quick out the door to the restaurant. On my way I received a message from Luca.

Luca - hey! Placed a reservation under L.M.

“L.M?” I asked myself, wondering what it meant, maybe his initials? I smile and replied ok,only a few minutes later I was at the restaurant, even though it was only 7 the restaurant was lively, full and packed. I walked over to the hostess stand.

“Hi, there should be a reservation for L.M?” I felt nervous, a mix of because of how busy it is and meet him…when I said the name of the reservation the hostess gave changed a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Of course! Right this way!” She said trying to put on a happy face but the nerves over shadowed that, she let me to a table already set up in a quieter area, almost completely different from the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. “your server will be with you shortly, please enjoy!” She said as she raced out the room. I staired at the entrance way confused, why was that girl so nervous, and to have such a secluded area on a Friday night, it was unusual…

I sat down at the table that faced the entrance way. I pulled out my phone to text me.

Y/N - Hey! I just sat down! We have a really nice table, are you almost here? :)

I saw he read the text but no reply, I felt nervous again, my eyes kept watching my phone, my mouth was dry. But then I heard a voice “sorry I’m late..” the voice sounded nervous. I look up to a short blonde man. My eyes widen and my mouth is dry…

I was looking at Lucifer himself…

TAG LIST

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @rainycloud858

[wantondoe]

The Lady and the Host

I wanted to write a series about the time Alastor still lived. It would be an Alastor x reader story. Due to the plot, the reader is depicted to be a female. I will put trigger warnings in the beginning of each post. As always, I'm open to requests.

Plot: Alastor, the charming local radio host meets the upper class lady (you) who studies medicine in a university. He is immediately drawn to her ambition and bluntness. But he has a dark double identity as a ruthless serial killer. He hopelessly falls for her while also struggling to keep his secrets.

Chapter 1: Darling

Once again, Alastor was late for work. He dragged his slender body through the streets of New Orleans while the buses were honking and children were running around. The crowd of busy men and women were darting around. A group of young women were somewhere behind him, waving their hands while glancing towards him with flirty looks.

He managed to slip away from the fangirls, walking through the door that would take him to a narrow spiral staircase. He ran up the stairs, taking long leaps. He slammed the door open and hung his coat, still maintaining his charming smile at his coworker, who was sitting in front of the microphones with a sour look.

"Ah, Ted my dear coworker! I'm afraid I ran late again eh-"

"Cut it Alastor! And it's Theodore!" the sour-faced middle-aged man snapped. "This is the third time this week you're late!"

"Now now, no need to pout my buddy! We still have time before the broadcast!" Alastor took a seat next to him.

"We have time because I set everything ready!" Ted folded his arms. "What's keeping you so busy? Did the ladies stop you on the streets again?"

"Ah, you're sharp aren't you, my friend? Yes, some lovely ladies really wanted me to know that I'm the most charming radio host in all Louisiana-"

"Yes, yes, we all know that everyone loves you!" Ted rolled his eyes.

"Worry not my buddy, the people love you as well! You're the original voice of radio after all!"

"Whatever, lad", Ted muttered. "Okay, we're going live in 10...9..."

"Oh, by the way I'll leave early today because I have to attend this party!"

Ted stiffened in his chair, his eyed widening. "YOU WHAT NOW?"

"Ah, good morning New Orleans! Good to be on air, absolutely terrific!" Alastor spoke smoothly while Ted was muttering curses away from his microphone.

That was just a typical morning for Alastor, the young prominent radio host of New Orleans. He had gotten so popular that he had started to get invitations to parties. He had made some significant acquaintances that helped him further develop in his career. Being a charming, talented, young man he was really making a name for himself.

Fixing his red bow, he stepped in through the heavy doors, entering a large ball room area. It was lit by heavy chandeliers. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen were mingling around with champagne glasses in hand, while loud jazz music was playing. This was the kind of party where upper class men and women came to misbehave, to drink and dance without any shame.

Alastor genuinely enjoyed a good party. Even though Alastor came from wealth as well, he still found the people a tad stuffy. It could be difficult to find people with original thoughts in a place like this. He started his so-called "hunt" to find new, like-minded people.

As Alastor mingled and walked through the crowd, it came apparent that he already knew everyone. He kept up his flashy smile and charming persona, while on the inside, her was bored to death.

Alastor was a man who seemed to have it all, a career, admirers, wealthy family, friends, the looks and brains... But in fact, he was just a shell of a person, no better than the stuffy Louisianans. He strutted across the floor, searching for a new face. He had almost finished his champagne, when he saw you, the most fascinating sight of the evening. He hadn't seen something as adorable for a while, the way the silk of your dress danced around your legs as you turned around to meet the people around was simply beautiful. The colors of your outfit complimented your skin that seemed to glow under the dim lights. He walked closer, taking in your hair that was neatly combed behind your ear and secured with a pin. The moment he saw you smile through your sparkling eyes, he knew he had to talk to you.

He took confident steps to you, making sure to try to smile with his eyes as well. He watched the group of people leave your side before walking closer, closing the remaining distance between you two.

"Ah, dear, I believe I haven't seen you around before! Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" he said his usual greeting, kissing the back of your hand with grace. He gazed at you, trying to read your expression.

"Pleasure", came your short answer. You didn't seem too impressed, which irritated Alastor. He was used to people basically worshiping him. "And my name is..."

"Oh, what a lovely name! Just darling! What is a pretty lady such as yourself doing here all alone?"

"Well, I like being alone", came your bold answer. Alastor chuckled.

"Oh, I see", he hummed.

Quite honestly, you were tired of these young, entitled men flirting with you. It seemed as if all of them were the same. Alastor was quick to notice your disinterest, which bruised his ego.

"Shall I ask you for a dance?" he asked.

"Well..." you averted your gaze, looking a little flustered.

"Please.... Darling", the latter word rolled on his tongue like sweet poison. He smiled slyly, his gorgeous eyes half-lidded. He was like a businessman buttering someone up.

You made the mistake of looking at his face. The moment you saw his ridiculously handsome face, you knew you had lost. He might act like every other young man, but his looks were simply out of this world. His dark skin looked incredibly smooth, and you couldn't help but let yourself wonder how it would feel under your fingertips-

"Darling", Alastor repeated, chuckling. He had noticed your drifting mind. It was something young ladies such as you often did when looking at him. He was pleased to say the least. Finally you were paying attention to him. "Please, dance with me", he pleaded, offering his hand.

"Well I suppose I could, but only this time- WOAH!"

You were being yanked towards the dance floor by Alastor, who was grinning widely, his eyes loving as he gazed down at you. You were surprised by his spontaneous ways. You felt your face flush as he pressed his warm torso against you, leading the way on the dance floor. The fast phased jazz music was keeping them moving fast, their legs almost tangling. Alastor was quickly bringing you out of your shell, and you didn't mind.

Somehow, Alastor managed to make you loosen up like you had never before. All the stress from the week seemed to vanish as he held your wist on the dance floor. As the music slowed down, the tension between you and Alastor grew. He wasn't taking his eyes off you, holding you like you were the most precious thing.

"Shall we get some fresh air, darling?"

Alastor led the way to a cozy garden. There were a few wooden benches, roses were growing all around, making the air smell floral and romantic. The garden was lit up by lamps and the cool, calming moonlight. Alastor sat you on a bench before sitting next to you, sneaking his arm around your waist. Usually you would have snapped at anyone who dared to touch you in such intimate way. But for some reason, his touch didn't feel vile or bothersome.

"Darling", he hummed, holding you close. It was as if he had already decided that you were soulmates. Maybe you were. "I',m so glad I met you."

"Oh Alastor, don't get all cheesy now", you warned playfully.

"I can't help it, dear. You make me a hopeless romantic!" he exclaimed with a theatrical hand gesture.

You two continued sitting in the rose garden, enjoying the evening together. Eventually, you felt your eyelids get heavier, your body relaxing against his warmth. You let out a small, adorable yawn.

Alastor chuckled softly. "I see you are getting tired, my darling. Shall I walk you home?" he suggested, helping you stand up. "Come on, doll. I'll make sure you get home safe and sound!"

Alastor walked you through the streets. You watched the lights from restaurants and bars light up the narrow street, feeling warm and cozy. You braced yourself for the part where you two would walk by a smaller side alley. That alley always made you feel alerted. Your heartbeat quickened as you two passed the shady alleyway, Alastor's grip on your hand tightening.

"Just walk with me, darling", Alastor whispered, leading you past the shady part.

You felt the effect of the champagne wear off, your tipsy haze clearing up. Suddenly you realized that you didn't even know this Alastor so well. You knew he was an upper class man who had his successful radio show. You knew he was a popular one in the high society. But that was all superficial... You started getting this odd, creepy feeling as the night suddenly turned eerily quiet, only the faint sound of wind filling the air. You slowly gazed up to him and saw his smiling at you, his eyes gleaming in the dark. You forced a smile and looked away, trying to maintain some sort of composure.

"Darling, you've gone awfully quiet", he pointed out, his voice calm.

You were still young, but not stupid. You knew that the world could be a cruel, unjust place, especially for women. So, you started playing horror scenarios in your mind. Alastor was a tall man, he could easily-

No. You had to stop thinking about it like that. He wouldn't do anything, would he? Alastor had seemed so sweet, so genuinely caring....

"This is your house, right? 13B?"

You snapped out of your thoughts as Alastor stopped in front of the house you lived in. The familiar neighborhood immediately brought some sense of comfort to you. The atmosphere got lighter and you abandoned the dark thoughts that you've had earlier.

"Yes, this is it", you muttered nervously.

"Well, Miss, it had been quite the pleasure!" he grinned, kissing the back of her hand once again. "I expect to see you soon again, darling", he said, his voice low and seductive.

"Y-yeah. Good night."

"Good night, darling", he wished, his voice almost a whisper. He turned on his heels, walking back into the darkness.

After he had disappeared from sight, you let out a loud sigh. You were safe, you were okay. The front door of the house opened and your maid called for you. You happily ran inside the comforts of your home, the lovely night spent together with Alastor still fresh in your mind.

Meanwhile Alastor walked along the quiet streets, embracing the creepy atmosphere. He whistled a sinister rhyme, his hands shifting in his pockets.

Alastor could be the sweetest angel when he wanted to. he would sweet talk even the coldest person until they melted for him. He could make anyone trust him and he was excellent at controlling the way people saw him. But like everyone, he had his secrets too. He dragged his lean body in a side alley, his narrow shadow following. A hand was swung, blood was shed and soon after that, quick steps followed.

Now that Alastor had finally found someone, you, that made him feel something, he would make sure to eliminate any threats out of your way. Even if that meant getting his hands dirty. Alastor if anyone really hated making a sloppy mess!

"Anything for my darling..."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Why Is Misdemeanor Of the Heart's Reader...

White Coded?

Yep, I said it. Come, take a seat and get cozy in the Fox Den while Mamma Kit answers some questions.

CW: Discussions of race and racism in a historical context and me being a wordy ass bitch

I've seen some discourse around Human!Alastor readers and writers and have gotten some of these questions myself over the last few months.

Firstly- I am white. I'm so fucking white that I use SPF 100 sunscreen. I grew up in Alaska. The history I learned growing up wasn't African American history; it was Alaska Native history. I didn’t learn about how we fucked over African American people in America’s early history. Instead, I learned how we fucked over the villages of the land I was raised on.

Why does this matter? The current accepted fanon for Alastor's human life is that he was a Black or mixed-race radio host who died in 1933 and reached his mid to late 30s or 40s. We know he had a successful career and was also a serial killer. He favored jazz, and rye is his drink of choice. He exists somewhere on the ace spectrum.

Time for a little math. Let's go with the middle ground—he was 40 in 1933. That means he would have been born around 1893. Let’s assume his mother was 25 when he was born. She would have been born in 1868. Using the same age for her mother, Alastor's grandmother would have been born in 1843. Remember this—it’ll matter in a minute.

For MisD and all of my human Alastor writing, as well as the works of many other human Alastor writers, we approach Alastor's life through a historical lens. I, like many others, enjoy exploring a time period rich with change—dynamic and vibrant with energy, money, and hope.

What does this mean? This means Alastor would have faced significant amounts of racism. Being Black, mixed-race, or how well he could pass as white would all drastically impact his life. It affected what opportunities he had, the education he received, and how laws were applied to him.

Ready for a history lesson? The Emancipation Proclamation was issued by President Abraham Lincoln on January 1, 1863. It declared all enslaved people in rebellious areas of the United States to be free. Alastor's grandmother—based on the ages we used earlier—would have been a 20-year-old woman at that time.

Alastor would have been raised by a first-generation free woman. He likely wouldn’t have had access to public education, instead being taught in group homeschool-like sessions by those who had learned to read and write.

If he was mixed-race, he would have faced significant discrimination from all of society.

The Civil Rights Movement in the USA didn’t begin until the mid-1950s—a full twenty years after his death.

The reality is that we don’t know a lot about the Black experience during the early to mid-1900s. Much of this history wasn’t recorded by (white) historians. Instead, it was passed down through stories from parents to children, and so on. Only now are we starting to uncover and listen to the histories, stories, and experiences of Black Americans during this time period.

Remember how I mentioned at the start that I’m white as fuck? I don’t have grandparents I can go to and ask about the Black experience when they were children. First—my grandparents are all dead, and second—they were somehow whiter than I am. Their perspective wouldn’t help me because it isn’t my family’s story to tell.

What I can do is look at what we do know, listen to the voices of Black Americans who are finally being allowed to share their stories, and reflect that in my version of human Alastor. I can spend the time to research and learn. For instance, Alastor would have been ahead of his time—the first Black radio host was in 1929, a man named Jack L. Cooper from Chicago. He hosted the first Black-produced weekly variety show and showcased Black entertainers.

I can listen to stories of how mixed-race men were afforded the privilege of their lighter skin as long as they were useful to their white employers, only to be scapegoated the second anything went wrong. I do my best to reflect these stories in Human!Alastor's experiences and behaviors.

Why A White Coded Reader? I cannot even begin to hope to understand the Black American experience as it is now, let alone how it was in 1922, when MisD is set, or in the late 1910s, when my other Human Al fics take place. What I can understand on a deeper level is the white woman's experience, the experience of poverty, the experiences of abused women, and what it’s like to view the Black experience from the outside looking in.

And so that is what I try to highlight with my Human!Alastor fics. Yes, when I’m writing a Human!Alastor fic that deals with racial, class, and social politics as one of the themes to be explored (such as MisD), the reader is coded as white. It is through a white reader that I can have conversations with Alastor about why he feels he has to be perfect, why he straightens his hair, and so on. I cannot do proper justice to these feelings on a deeper level from a Black perspective because I can’t even begin to hope to understand it.

I cannot truly understand what Alastor’s Blackness would mean to him or how he would feel about being mixed. However, I can learn and understand how it impacted his life from the outside looking in. This is what I strive to do—to shed light on what Alastor’s accomplishments would have meant and how much his mistakes would have cost him.

I would love to see more Black writers in the fanfic space, especially within the Human!Alastor space. I would also love to see fewer readers written as blank slates. The Black experience in America and other white-dominated cultures is still not spotlighted often enough, both in present-day and historical settings.

These are stories that need to be told—perspectives that need to be explored, seen, and heard. However, they are not my stories to tell. Personally, until I am far better educated on the matter, I feel it would take away from these stories and be disrespectful to the lives of the very real people who lived them if I were to write from a perspective I cannot hope to understand.

I will continue to strive to write readers as racially neutral as often as the plot allows. However, I also ask that readers respect that, when the plot deals with racial, social, and class divides in a historical setting, if the reader is coming from a place of privilege, their skin tone is often the reason for such privilege.

Of course, I encourage readers to suspend disbelief and insert themselves into the fic regardless of their personal skin tone. I write from a historical setting, but as readers, you can imagine a set of historical laws or circumstances that allow for the same dynamics without requiring a white reader.

Can I do better? Absolutely—we all can. We’re always growing, improving, and learning. I was blessed to be raised in one of the most diverse places in the country (over 45 languages were spoken fluently at my high school). However, since leaving, I’ve struggled with the realities of having that bubble burst—not that Alaska was without racism.

I always welcome respectful discussions about the themes in MisD and all of my fics, as well as the reasons things may be portrayed the way they are. I prefer to write dark content, and with that comes the opportunity to educate and shine a light on topics many people avoid discussing. I simply ask for respect in return for the respect I give.

Much love, Kit

[vroomvroomwee]

The discrepancy between the two most popular Lucifer ships is the funniest fucking thing.

Because on one hand we have Lilith, first woman, ethereal, otherworldly, tall, resplendent goddess, hair like a river of gold flowing effortlessly with her every move, thighs forged from steel, eyes like distant, indigo, breathtaking stars, the complexion of her skin more vibrant and smooth than any painting, Queen and ruler of Hell, the first succubus, her voice a siren's song worthy to be revered and feared in equal measure.

Then we have Alastor, serial killer, mediocre middle-aged man, complete and utter asshole to anyone and everyone, hasn't showered since he was five years old, looks like a strawberry pin cushion, his only redeeming quality is his respect towards women, couldn't find the clitoris if someone drew it for him on the side of a barn, pulls stuff (niffty) out of toilets without using gloves, got his arrogant, overconfident skinny ass thoroughly handed to him during the first five minutes of the extermination

Someone help that man out

[tayraedoll]

Drag Me to Hell

You purchase an old radio at an antique store that turns out to be haunted as fuck. Will you successfully banish the demon back to hell before he can take you with him? Just to be safe MDNI 18+ Only!

So I meant to write this as a one-shot but it quickly got away from me so now it is a full, multi-chapter fic. What can I say? I have lost all control of my life...

TW: Horror, Alastor is his own warning, blood, gore, swearing, crude and dark humor, hallucinations, reader is not an exorcist expert- don't try this at home, more tags to be added as the story progresses.

Part 2

"Do we really have to go in?", you whine to your best friend Kate, scrunching your nose in disgust at the literal shack with a rusty, old "Antiques" sign.

Kate giggles at your antics,"Oh come on; it'll be fun! Who knows what treasures we might find?" She grabs your arm and pulls you through the door behind her; the little bell atop the door chimes merrily to signal your entrance. You look around, as far as you were concerned there was junk piled high in every direction. Taking stock of the room you were in you notice old Coke bottles, cigar boxes, a china cabinet filled with those creepy ass 'Precious Moments' figurines, and a shit ton of clothes that were even too outdated for your grandmother to wear.

"You're counting literal trash as treasure now? That explains your dating history", you deadpan at your friend.

"Bitch I said we MIGHT find treasure! But you gotta dig through the dirt to reach it first", Kate rolls her eyes at you but smiles at your jab. Gentle bullying was just how you showed each other your love. She walks further into the store, perusing through all the trinkets on the shelves. You follow after her, trying your best to not make eye contact with those Precious Moments dolls whose eyes seemed to follow you as you pass by.

You enter an adjacent room, this one filled with tin cooking instruments in varying degrees of disrepair. A portly, older gentleman with greying hair sat behind a register with a large tabby cat on the table. The cat lets out a loud yowl at the pair of you but the man says nothing as he watches you carefully in case you try to steal anything. 'What in here is even worth stealing?' you think to yourself. You smile at him politely and quickly move onto the next room, this one filled with old toys...yikes.

"So how do you know when you find "treasure?", you ask, using your fingers to put air quotations around the word treasure. Kate picks up a particularly disturbing looking baby doll and wiggles it in front of your face.

"When you find something you just can't leave without!", she laughs as you flinch back, glaring at her- you had told her your hatred of dolls in good faith and here she was using that information against you. She places the demonic toy back on the shelf and you give it another glare for good measure- not today Annabelle.

The next area was only slightly less disturbing; it looked like a middle-aged housewife was allowed to decorate it with all the "Live, Laugh, Love" and "Wine a Little, Laugh A Lot" signs all around. "Jesus Fucking Christ does this place never end?! It didn't look this big from outside!", you exclaim in exasperation. Kate carded through a stack of pictures and paintings.

"Perhaps if you actually looked for something that strikes your fancy you'd have a better time", she absentmindedly replied. You sigh but raise your hands in surrender, she had a point there. You make your way to the back, knowing nothing in this basic Karen of a room was going to please you.

When you reach the next room your eyes light up,"A ha! Now this room is interesting!", you call back to Kate. It was a music-themed room full of old records, CD's, posters, and stereos. As a music major in college you felt your heart soar at the sight of all the little pieces of music history surrounding you. You immediately dig into the records, wondering if you could find something new for your collection that was in decent shape. Maybe it was old school of you, but nothing beat the crisp sound of a record; records made you feel like the music was surrounding you, like you could see and taste the notes making it a full-body sensory experience.

Kate joins you, letting out a curt laugh,"I should have guessed it would be a music room." Your frown slightly as you reach the end of the records without finding anything of note for your collection. You sigh heavily at the disappointment that fills your chest.

"Too bad this room turned out to be a du-", you trail off as you catch sight of it. On the top shelf at the far end of the room sat an ornate, antique radio. It was cathedral-shaped, made of a dark- almost black- wood, the face painted a bright crimson. The speakers resembled a throne and below the control panel were large, yellow slices that resembled flames...or a very creepy smile. You gently plucked the fragile-looking radio from the shelf; it was a lot sturdier than it looked, feeling pretty hefty in your hands. You turn it around in your hands, it appeared to be battery-powered like most radios were prior to the 1930's. You wondered if it would work today.

"Find something interesting?", Kate asked beside you. She made a face at the old radio, "No offense but that thing is creepy AF!"

"It is no creepier than that doll earlier!", you defend your unique find. "I think I'll purchase it", you state with finality and make your way back to the front. The old man speaks little more than just to tell you your total cost, the cat joining him as they stare at you distrustfully. 'Jeez, cranky old coot', you think.

Back at your home you tinker around with the radio, polishing it up a bit and adding some new batteries. Your home was small, just a 1-bedroom and bathroom place that you were renting on the outskirts of New Orleans. You decorated modestly, a bookshelf with your favorite novels and records took up an entire wall of your small living room. The TV was small and pushed into a corner, you really only used it for background noise most days. You had one small but comfortable couch that you mostly used to work on. You were a writer for OffBeat, New Orleans' local music magazine. It was a great gig that let you work from home, even if you weren't compensated the best being a new writer on the team. You spent most of your days writing about Jazz and The Blues, local concerts and events coming up, and interviewing rising artists.

You placed the radio up on top of your bookshelf, you'd try to get it to work tomorrow. As you were pushing it back onto the shelf you felt a sharp sting in your finger, "Ah! Fuck!", you exclaim as you quickly pull your finger back. You inspect it, finding a drop of blood leaking out of your skin; you must have accidentally cut yourself on one of the yellow ornamental parts. You raise your bleeding finger to your lips and gently suck the small wound to soothe it. Sparing one last glance up to the radio, you turn off the light and head to bed.

Completely missing how the smile of the radio that just bit into you started to eerily glow in the dark after you.

[hanaotaku95]

Eudora Rose Morningstar

Commissioned from @rubesbuster

The very young daughter of Alastor and Lucifer, she was created by accident when their blood mixed together and was infused with magic. This forces the devil and the radio host to call to a truce in order to give her the life she needs, leading to secrets being uncovered and feels to be explore.

Eudora was named after Alastor’s mother, and that name inspiration comes from Tiana’s mother in Princess and the Frog, while her middle name is in honor of Rosie.

She’s a young demoness with a lot of personality, taking a lot after her showman dads. Her method of creation led her to having more awareness and independence than man children her age, though she still relies a lot on her parents and sister and various uncles and aunts. Talented with magic, she mainly communicated with the cane that Alastor and Lucifer made for her. She’s mischievous, always seeking out fun and is pretty goofy. Much of who she becomes is based on those in her life, and she has quite a lot of misadventures all throughout Hell and more.

The shadow minion on her shoulder is Lefty, whom she named and adopted as a little companion.

[androgynousblackbox]

The things we don't say [Appleradio, Radioapple]

A03 link

Summary: Lucifer had it up to here with Alastor's bullshit. One would think that after healing him from his stupid wound and get his powers back, he would be at least more tolerable. But no, he was even worse and Lucifer did not understand why. Until he suddenly does.

The other work for the Radioapple San Valentine's gift exchange!

Lucifer was pissed off.

Part of it, not a small one, was for being fully aware of how truly stupid the whole thing was. He didn't like to consider himself old, but there was no way for him to deny that a man of his age should be mature enough to not let something like that affect him that much. Less than anything actively participate on making it even worse.

By all means, it sounded like some good fun at first. When Charlie came all excited to tell him about her next idea for a bonding exercise for all the residents, he was all for it. A class of baking and decorating cakes was a delightful idea. In paper, and in his mind, it was going to be the easiest thing ever for him, a notorious lover of every things sweet.

The thing he didn't count on, and truly he should have seen coming because that was just his luck, was that the most irritating sinner he had ever met since the creation of Hell (never mind the fact he haven't interacted directly with sinners since at least the Middle Ages) would be participating as well. As another one of the teachers as well, to add more salt to the injury.

He had assumed that the radio demon would keep his distance of the whole activity. Not only because he had never shown any interest on whatever exercises his daughter cooked up for everyone else to engage in, even if the other members of the staff were there, but also because the man had never been secretive about disliking sweets. How was he supposed to know that, nonetheless his own preference, Alastor was the only one in the whole hotel, besides himself, who actually knew how to bake? Apparently it was a skill learned from his mother while he was alive. One he didn't have a lot of opportunities to practice on, but since his "dear Charlie" has asked, he clearly had no option but to help out.

Charlie probably, and very correctly, had assumed that if Lucifer had known that beforeheand, he could have had a problem about it. She likely assumed that if they both became engrossed in the activity, they wouldn't have a mindd to argue or they would find common ground so much more easily. A rather optimistic, but reasonable expectation to have.

Too bad she didn't count with how much use they could give their mouths even with their hands occupied. Or the fact that a guy whose main demonic gimmick was his voice would know how to press someone with only using that. All in all, it was about fifteen minutes of relative peace until the metaphorical hell broke lose.

Someone accused someone of being tacky. Someone mentioned the words "lazy piece of shit". The insults were thrown back to back, each more snarky than the last. Lucifer couldn't even say what was the final drop that destroyed the entire glass, but destroyed was no doubt. Just along with the cakes that they were supposed to make and end up in the floor, the ceiling and all over everyone that was present.

It could have been worse. If not because then Charlie yelled for everyone to stop. Horn outs, fire spitting out of her mouth, eyes red, black tail whipping the air in demand to be listen to, she could have made one lovely picture that Lucifer would be proud of. If only the target of the anger that made her like that wasn't him.

"If none of you can behave like adults, you can both just go! Don't bother promising that you will help me if all you will do is your stupid bullshit!"

Lucifer tried to apologize first, but surely she should be able to understand that guy was just not someone anyone could work with. It wasn't his fault that sinner had a mouth larger than his entire height. He was just such an obnoxious jackass that never knew when to quit it and, honestly, sweetie, do you even need a hotelier in the first place? Especially when she already had the king of Hell at the hotel?

That is when Alastor had to intervene. Shutting up was never going to be his strong suit, but one thing that people could trust him on was to try to get the last word on. Oh, your Majesty, with that mocking tone that made his title itself into a unfunny joke. Surely someone with his immense age could do with a rest, just like the one he had taken from fulfilling his role as a king. There was no need at all to shove their presence where it was clearly not needed to, especially in areas where he had shown already to be lacking so severely.

Lucifer started to reply, because someone with that ego needed to be taken down, but he could barely get a few words out when Charie stomped her feet on the floor, her hair losing out of her hairband to float around her head as her voice turned into a full growl.

"ENOUGH! YOU TWO, OUT!"

Alastor was the first to obey the order. Rolling his eyes and sighning for the apparent waste of time this whole thing was, but he did. The moment his figure dissapeared in a black shadow on the floor, Lucifer looked at his daughter. He wanted to offer to clean up, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Charlie kept pointing to the only available exit and a face that made it clear she didn't want to hear it.

Lucifer left his sorry swing in the air and dissapeared through one of his portals. He wanted nothing more but to throw himself to the bed, but the merenge, flour and who knows what else stuck to his persona made a shower far more pressing as a priority. A snap of finger could have clean him up just as well, but he actually welcomed the warm water falling on top of him.

When he came out of the bathroom, duckie slippers and fluffy pink robe already on, he was almost completely calm down. Instead of the seething irritation that made him scrub harder and harder with his sponge, until throwing it away, now remained a lingering sense of embarassment he was sadly accostumed to. He definitely needed to have a talk with Charlie later, when she was able to listen to it. To let her know that her intentions were good and he respected her decision making, but she also had to understand that some people were just not meant to get along with each other and try to force them together was only ever going to bring out the worst kind of results possible. It had been months since the red asshole had come back to the hotel already. Not once he had shown at all the intention to be anything else but a pain on his ass.

For a moment there, after healing him from his angelic wound, Lucifer thought there that could create a good enough bridge towards something. Not necessarily friendship, but a truce of some kind. Clearly, he had been mistaken. If anything, the moment that Alastor was back in full health, the radio demon seemed to consider it his mission in the afterlife to be as annoying as he could as soon he had the chance. If it was just an asshole that he was forced to interact to on the regular, that would be one thing, but seeing the effect their bickering had on Charlie was really wearing on him. They were supposed to be fixing their relationship, and instead he continued to feel like a bad father thanks to one mouthy sinner.

He groaned to himself as he turned on his chimney with a gesture of his wrist. As the cracking of the fire filled his room, he rubbed a towell over his hair. He should be having cake with his daughter, but he never even got the chance to show her his decorating skills. He didn't even got to taste any cake at all and he was looking forward to it. It was a childish complain to hold onto, but one he couldn't let go. It would have been such a delicious good cake too. Chocolate and red forest fruits. The fact that he wasn't filling his mouth with it was just unfair. As he let himself fall to a chair, Lucifer sighed under the towell covering him. Maybe Charlie would forgive him faster if he actually made the dessert for her. When she was little, no matter what was happening, just put something sweet in front of her was enough to make her smile. And she wasn't little anymore, but who didn't love sweets? Besides red bloodthirsty bambies, at least?

A knock on his door broke the silence. Lucifer stirred from the nap he didn't realize almost took. He pulled he towell off, unaware of the mess that made out of his hair, waiting. Did it really happened or he just imagined it?

Another knock, slightly more impatient than the previous one. For no real reason at all, Lucifer's first idea was that it was Charlie going to check on him. No doubt he couldn't keep her waiting for long. After almost stumbling with his own hoof, Lucifer ran the rest of the way towards the door and opened it up at once. His smile dissolved instantly when he saw who it actually was.

"What do you want?" asked, crossing his arms.

Alastor did not respond immediately. The radio demon looked at him down and up for a few seconds, his gaze seemingly incapable of dinging a single point to concentrate in any one point. One of those red eyes twitched slightly, as if his impulse was to close it entirely, but he wasn't turning away. Lucifer put a hand on his waist and snapped his fingers, which finally seemed to break the trance of the sinner. At least enough to make him capable of finally lift his attention to the devil's face.

"What do you want?" repeated Lucifer, not bothering to hide his frustration.

Alastor blinked once before his brow furrowed slightly.

"Is that any way to receive any visitor?"

Of course the first thing to come out of his mouth had to be more nagging. Lucifer had even less patience than usual for that nonsense. He shouldn't have to justify getting comfortable in his own room.

"A visitor would implied I invited them here. When one of those comes around, I will make sure to receive them properly" pointed out with a smirk before he rolled his eys, turning around giving the door a soft push to close off.

Rather than going away, Alastor came inside and closed the door behind him with a shadow.

"For goodness sake, your Majesty, don't you have any decency left? What would people think if they saw you like that?"

Lucifer could so easily say that it was a priceless thing to say coming from the man who literally just invaded another person's room. But all the irritation he thought he had left go down the drain suddenly came back. It electrify him like a thunder finding his spine and he could not give less of a fuck.

"No, actually!" said cheerfully, turning around to let his robe fall to the floor. Leaving himself with his red underwear with white duckies all over. "Didn't you learned I am the fucking devil already, Bambi! I am temptation itself! I will tempt all over my own fucking space if I fucking want to! Do you got a fucking problem with that?!" demanded, his voice turning into a growl while his claws enlarged, as if ready to fight for his right to do whatever the fuck he wanted to in his own space.

But instead of fighting or give some kind of snarky comeback, Alastor stood very still. The grip he was holding over his own staff could almost break it again. Just looking. So intensively and concentrated like a wreckage he had to register every portion of. With every step that Lucifer took towards him, Alastor seemed to imitate ever closer a stone statue, so quiet and straight. The only thing moving on him were his eyes, keeping a record of him, of his body.

Seeing him like that, Lucifer was suddenly aware again of how tall that man was. His expression was giving nothing away, but there was other expression that Lucifer had seen before. One night where the radio demon had given in to the drink at the bar and Lucifer stayed, drinking just the same, even though he couldn't become drunk just the same. It was all so funny at first. A drunk Alastor was so quick with the puns and the jokes, and as much as Lucifer hated to admit, he laughed at every single one until they were both a wheezing mess. The snarky comments lose remarkably their edge. The man was concentrated on having a good time, not on trying to prick him with whatever word he could conjure up. He was clever and ironic and could pass from one joke to another like he had been born to make the world laugh.

It was such a pity that Alastor just didn't do that in the regular. That side of him was not only tolerable, Lucifer could see himself prefering it. The sinner was not interested in flirting with him like Angel Dust did, did not try to steal whatever piece he could grab for his collection like the little maid did, was not keeping a respectful distance like Husk, was not stiff and unsure of what to do like Vaggie or did not made him self conscious of everything he did on his life like Charlie. This was easy, comfortable even.

When they moved to a couch because Alastor almost stumbled with his own feet, his voice had become quieter, their giggles almost a whisper like something they shouldn't be doing. At some point, Lucifer made a pun about deers, and despite how low hanging fruit it was, Alastor snorted and laughed and slapped his own knee before he turned to him, tear of joy slipping at the corners of his eyes. Despite only having a smile plastered on his face all the time, his eyes were always the dead give away. Those were so much expressive that his mouth ever could be, and those were sparkling with genuine emotion that soften up all his sharp features. It was the first time that Lucifer consider him beautiful.

"Careful there" had said Lucifer, reaching over with a handkerchief to clean him up. "If you keep responding like that, I am going to start thinking that you could like me sober."

"Wouldn't that be a tragedy" Alastor's shoulders agitated with another quiet laugh. He didn't move initially when Lucifer touched his cheek, but as he passed to the other his head rolled to meet his gaze. "That is so annoying" commented with a little snort.

"What?" Lucifer folded the fabric in his hands, cleaning it up in the air with magic.

Alastor moved ever so close. The silly fun on his eyes simmered down.

"The fact that you look even better up close. It should be the opposite" commented, lifting his hand. Lucifer was so surprised he didn't even react when the claw of the sinner stroked his neck, far more gently than what he could have imagined coming from him. "How is anyone supposed to resist? That is not fair."

"That is kinda the point" was the only thing that Lucifer could think as a response.

He is sure he didn't keep moving forward, but small difference it did. He still stayed in place as he could see Alastor moving towards him, bending down to meet him. Lucifer knew that he should stop it, but he was far too curious to see what would happen. If Alastor was going to gain some sobriety back or try to cover up his slip with another joke. Instead of any of that, the kiss, when it came, was tentative and surprisingly soft. Lips moving without any tongue looking to get with each other. As if Alastor too was just waiting for Lucifer to reject him or pull back. That alone surprised him almost more than the contact itself.

But, honestly, he shouldn't be. Humanity was just too full of contradictions. All the colors at once in every choice they made. A violent man when it came to his fun, kindly taking what could only be conceded to him. Lucifer opened up his mouth to say that it was enough, that Alastor should really just go to bed and sleep the whiskey off. In the end, he couldn't say a word before Angel Dust came back from work. Loudly complaining about how he was double dying to get a fucking drink and he refused to finish the night sober. The pornstar quickly moved to the bar like it was his salvation, not once realizing the scene he could find on the couch.

What the kiss haven't done, that entrance managed to cleared up the head of the radio demon. Enough for him to be the one to straighten up in the couch and stare at Lucifer lik he suddenly didn't understand what they were doing so close.

"Go to sleep, Alastor" sighed Lucifer, in a lower voice. "Don't worry, everything is fine."

The darkness that followed the sinner swallowed him up, pressumably to take him to his room. Lucifer continued drinking his sweet drink until he got tired too and went to his own bed. The next day Alastor wouldn't mention or give any indication that the incident have happened at all. Lucifer couldn't be sure if the sinner had actually gotten drunk enough to completely forget what he did, but even if he was faking it Lucifer decided he wasn't grass enough to bring it up. What he could say for sure is that, from that day on, there was an escalation on how much their encounters end up in screaming matches, even more than after Alastor was cured.

That was a big reason why Lucifer was so taken aback for the look the sinner was giving him now. He pulled out his wings to stay on an eye to eye leve, waiting for the sinner to make a commentary about how that was indeed the only way he could reach him. When he was met with a defiant silence, Lucifer flapped his wings ever so slightly to get closer to him. The eyes of Alastor, like always, were the most expressive part of him and right now they were betraying him despite his frozen state. The look that stayed on his lips. Only his lips.

"Oh fuck" said Lucifer with a slow increasing smirk. "You are like a little kid pulling the ponytails of the girl he likes on the playground, aren't you? That is why you are so insufferable."

The escandalized gasp that Alastor let out was the final confirmation. Finally all the pieces that had been dispersed everywhere all came together to form a singular, clear image. Why he seemed to become worse after Lucifer did him a single favor. His attitude after that night. All in a desperate attempt to pretend none of them meant anything, one that he himself knew was bullshit from the start, but wasn't going to let go just in case. Like a cat that bite harder the more he was liked his owner.

It was all so obvious now that Lucifer emitted a soft chuckle. Not because the idea itself was funny, but because he could finally see it. Alastor exhaled in such a way his nostrils expanded and turned around, stomping his way back to the door.

"Wait, wait, wait" said Lucifer, appearing in front of his door with his hands up "Sorry, sorry. I wasn't trying to mock you. It just took me by surprise, that is all. If anything, that may be the cutest thing about you I have find out since I met you."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Despite his protest, Lucifer could see the blush under his gray skin filling out his face. "Is your ego so big now that is squeezing whatever little brain you have left on that tiny head?"

"Alright then." Now that he knew from where the hostility was coming from, it was easier to let it slide. "What are you doing here then?"

"For your information, I was going to offer some kind of truce, but I can see now that it's not worth it." The moment he finished his words, Alastor tried to move around Lucifer but he teleported again, extending his arms and legs like that would make any difference if the radio demon decided to do his shadow magic thing.

"Great idea!" let out quickly, before any other decision could be made. "Awesome plan actually! And I have the perfect deal for that truce if you are still interested."

He saw the deer ears twitch over the head of the sinner. For an Overlord, the mere word deal was like the offering peas to a hungry duck. They needed it, they were always hoping to find more of it. Alastor squinted his eyes at him, but still stayed there, only crossing his arms to let now he wasn't happy about this.

"What kind of deal?"

"Our truce would obviously be more for the benefit of Charlie" started Lucifer, thinking quickly. "She already has so much to stress over. It would only lighten her load if she also doesn't have to worry about us, right?"

"I don't have all day, your Majesty."

Another wave of irritation came up. As if Lucifer would have been the one who invited him in the first place or as if Alastor wasn't the one to enter his room just to nag him.

"Well, how about this?" offered, joinging his hands in front of him. "We mutually agree to keep our disagreements away from her and not let it scalate to the point of ruining another of her activities."

"In exchange of…?"

"One question. One we have to be completely honest about. It applies to both of us, of course. What do you say?" said, offering his hand now.

It was almost blatant how much the mechanial process of Alastor's thought started moving evaluating the situation. The pros and cons. The way he could try to turn it on his favor. In the end, just having a deal with the devil and receive that boost was enough to move the balance on his favor and extend his hand. The exchange of magic was quick and effective. A green energy sliding under the skin of Lucifer while Alastor had a red mist slipping under his sleeves.

"Perfect!" said Lucifer happily, clasping his hand. He lifted in the air again, getting so close to the sinner's face. That way he would be able to detect any chance on his demeanor, to pull back at the minor sign of actual rejection. "Here is my question then! Do you want to kiss me? Because I kinda do."

Alastor snarled. Lucifer could practically see the insult that the man wanted to take out, another snarky comment about his height, anything that could potentially make him regret ever asking something like that. Instead, despite his best effort to avoid it, his top lip trembled all the way as his mouth was forced let the truth out.

"Yes."

"Good" Lucifer reached a hand to stroke the cheek of the sinner.

But Alastor took a step back, ears pulled back. A moment of silence passed through until he spoke again again, the static around him increasing in volume.

"Are you going to tell anyone about this? Is this a funny joke for you?"

That was two questions, and only the first one was the one Lucifer could feel compelling him to be honest. Even so, he didn't have any reason to lie about either.

"No if it makes you uncomfortable." The words came out easy, without struggle. "And no, I am not laughing at you. Sorry if it came out that way, that wasn't my intention."

Alastor nodded after a while, turning his head to a side. Lucifer came back to the floor and walked to him calmly. Now that they both knew where they stood, the last thing he wanted to do was to scare Alastor away. As much of an asshole he was and how little compassion he would have if their roles were reverse, Lucifer didn't want to take advantage of that position. That was a type of cruelty he would never be comfortable with.

When he finally reached to hold the hand of Alastor, the sinner didn't fight it. Gently, Lucifer took him up to his larger couch and sat both of them down. Only then Alastor lifted his gaze up to him. Looking at everything of the angel as he came closer, their face only one hand away from distance, where he stayed. At realizing that he wasn't going to move any further and he would have to be the one to find him, Alastor closed his eyes and sighed.

"This doesn't change anything."

"Of course not."

"You are still irritating."

"You are still an asshole."

Lucifer didn't thought that one crush would make the sinner suddenly into a lovely person. But after months of the same kind of tension and fighting, this one thing couldn't make it any worse. In the best case escenario, at least it would give them one middle ground where they could agree on and that was just an improvement. In the worse, they weren't compatible ont aht sense and didn't try again. Nothing got lost anyway.

His words however seemed to calm down something on Alastor. Enough at least that he finally made the rest of the way to Lucifer's lips. His kiss started shy, but the more Lucifer responded positively, it started to become all the more hungry, demanding. There was no doubt now that not only he fully remembered his slip while drunk, he had been wanting to do it again and freely since that night, if not since beofre then.

There was a quieted down desperation, an insatiable curiosity to know how far he could go. Lucifer couldn't say that he didn't share a similar sentiment. It had been a long while since he had been desired so openly by anyone. For the first one to break his dry spell to be the annoying coworker of his daughter with a strong violent streak was a surprise, but honestly he could do a lot worse. Alastor could even be fun when he wanted to and was never too hard on the eye.

That is why he had no issue matching his energy. Two pent up demons alone in one space could only mean one thing. Eventually one hand of Alastor gripped to his nape and the other grabbed at his shoulder, as if needing to be sure he wasn't going to move anyway. The mouth of the sinner tasted to blood and coffee. An animal grunt recompensated Lucifer as he slipped his long tongue inside, testing the limits of the other's mouth.

The trance seemed to tremble on its effectiveness when Lucifer put his hands on the thighs of the sinner, slowly creepy his way to his crotch. A moment of separating away, silence, hesitation, both of them wet with saliva that wasn't their own.

"Too far?" asked Lucifer, ready to apologize.

Alastor blinked slowly, a slight crease between his eyebrows. The sinner licked his abused lips and bite down softly, the sharp point of his teeth making small points of light with their parted reflection. The desire caught on his pupils was struggling and fighting off to come out. There was no the fog of alcohol like that night. A sense that Lucifer haven't seen activated on him before was in full display.

"No" said Alastor, coming back to him. "Not far enough."

His arms wrapped around Lucifer's shoulders, claws running over his messy blonde hair. Lucifer got up on his knee, pushing between the legs of the sinner apart. The moment he felt that Alastor was opening himself up to him, he put his hands on the broad shoulder and pushed him firmly behind. When Alastor felt to his back, he did it over the bed of the devil with the man itself on top of him. Lucifer rubbed a hand over the shape that was clearly visible over the black pants. Alastor hissed with the pressure, his mouth easily open up to receive another kiss of Lucifer as his hand went out to grip the buckle of the sinner's belt. At the sound of it being opened up, the long fingers of the owner wrapped around Lucifer's wrist and he instantly stopped.

"Yes?"

"One moment." Alastor rised himself up as Lucifer moved back. He didn't know exactly what was expecting to happen, but somehow the sinner just snapping his own clothes away until he was left only on some plain black boxers was still some surprise. Somehow he assumed that with all of his old timey ways, on this area Alastor would prefer to take his time and relish on the tension.

But apparently the time of tension had passed already. It made him really question for how long Alastor was fantasizing about being on this exact situation. If he actually had any hope that it would happen and now had no patience to spare.

"Now we are even" declared the man with a grin and Lucifer couldn't not return it with a chuckle.

"Too even" said, standing on his knees as he pulled on his underwear down his thighs.

As if loathing the mere idea of letting the devil revealing more of his body that he was doing, Alastor rushed to do the same. By the moment the piece of clothing finished on his ankle, he tried to kick it away off his hoof and failed. Lucifer smiled big as he grabbed the long skinny leg and kissed the skin under the knee, grabbing the underwear himself and sending it flying to a chair.

Alastor had jolted a little with the contact, but relaxed remarkably quick again. Even quicker that when Lucifer had to touch his chest in order to cure him. Even when the magic was already making contact with him, Alastor still looked at him like he was waiting for an attack that never came. That look of aprehension now it was gone for another of uncertainty, expectations without a clear form. That had Lucifer warming up inside. It wasn't difficult to see that the sinner wasn't a man used to trust easily and it's not like he couldn't imagine why easily on his own. Living in Hell, and managing to survive for long, forced someone to be like that.

"You are so beautiful" praised sincerely, strocking up the thighs, relishing on the soft short fur that covered him completely.

As he crawled on top of the other man, the flush of Alastor was all the more evident and attractive. Lucifer felt it under his lips when he kissed the gray cheeks, his hands opening the legs further to accomodate between them.

"Mmm" Alastor sighed through his nose, bending his knees at the sides of Lucifer. "I am not… the most experienced when it comes to these matters."

Oh, Lucifer could tell already. Everything he did brought the same kind of sense of curiosity, as if reading a book whose ending he knew but had no idea how it would reach there. But those words had come out from a great effort from Alastor and the last thing Lucifer would do was to tease him about it. If nothing, that only made what they were already doing all the more especial.

"That is okay" assured gently, kissing the neck of the sinner. "Want to get inside of me?"

Alastor cleared his throat, distracting his eyes with looking at the curtains at the sides of the royal bed.

"If… you do it" started slowly, hesitantly grabbing Lucifer's waist with his claws, "would it hurt?"

Lucifer tried to hide his surprise at that. Most people only wanted to be the giving position with him and if Lucifer actualy liked them, he didn't mind either one anyway. If anyone was going to follow the trend he thought it would be the radio demon, but it seemed he had been mistaken.

"No, not at all" answered, caressing the red hair softly. "No pain, just pleasure. I promise."

"Is that a new deal?" said Alastor with a joking note, arching an eyebrow as he finally looked at him again, grateful.

Lucifer snorted a surprise laugh and kissed him, holding him gently as he let the magic rise up around them. Alastor opened up his eyes in surprise. He wasn't expecting another one so quickly.

"Deal" accepted Lucifer, pushing the kiss further as a new exchange travelled through the air. He didn't need the magic to force him in any way to do something so basic.

It was purely another way to calm down Alastor, to give him a little boost of energy that would keep making him feel good. If it wasn't the first time of the man, he wouldn't bother to take that measure, but since it was, it seemed the least he could do.

When he pulled back, something had changed in the expression of Alastor. More so, it had dissolved entirely and left behind a clear shine that Lucifer never expected to find in the face of that sinner. That day he was finding out a bunch of new sides to the man.

Alastor brought him down for another kiss, pulling down from the nape of Lucifer. Meanwhile, Lucifer manuevered to put one of his pillows right under the bottom back of Alastor, elevating him slightly. Without being told to, the sinner lifted his legs to wrap around the waist of the devil and that action alone lighted up something inside that Lucifer wasn't aware of until today. Maybe Alastor wasn't the only one that was expecting something like this after all. Lucifer decided to push the idea afar to examine later.

Now, right at that moment, all he wanted was to discover was what a moan out of the radio demon tasted against his tongue when his cock was handled by an expert hand. Just as he hoped for, the defenseless and shameless resulting sound was like glory. A better simphony that he could ever remember coming from Heaven itself.

The heat of that damned flesh around his finger was amazing, so compliant after just the tiniest bit of magic took away any discomfort away. Either because of still enjoying the buzz of magic from the deal, the deal itself or everything at once, Alastor squirming in increasing energy. His gaze turning into lava as it washed all over the devil and his movements, don't wanting to miss a single one. Lucifer could only imagine that he presented an equal picture.

Every reaction when he opened up the entrance of the sinner a little further, when he stimulated his cock and teased his nipples with his long snake like tongue was absolutely perfect. He wouldn't change at all the way that Alastor was abandoning himself to the pleasure with the honesty that only someone who was truly new to all those sensations could have. If Lucifer had any question as to if Alastor was exaggerating or lying beofre, all of that dissapeared on the fire of his eyes.

At the feeling of having three fingers pressing inside of him, with no pain exactly as Lucifer promised, Alastor pushed his head back and arched his waist to find the hand of the devil, burying it even deeper. All of him was irresistibly warm in a way Hell could never truly replicate. A welcoming warm that gripped onto Lucifer like the thought of letting him go was insane, beyond of anything that was reasonable to ask from him. To say it was affecting Lucifer would be an understatement

"That is it, you are doing so good, buddy," Lucifer praised between kisses in whatever portion of that gorgeous body he could reach: the neck, the chest with a soft fluff he could bury his face in and just breath an obviously Alastor scent, the flat stomach rising and deflating in rythm with the moans above and finally, but not least, the cock that had been leaking for a while now.

Specifically the soft base, the skin painted with black veins, making his way to the head. The moment he got it in his mouth, tongue wrapped around it like another long finger, the breathing of Alastor hitched with a raspy yelp. The crawling of his gasp scrapping down his throat. Lucifer took all of him down like it costed no effort at all and really, it didn't. As he started to bob his head up and down, sucking on the sensitive member when he needed to, letting it go before it could go too far, Alastor's noises had reached that point where they could sound painned if someone heard them out of context.

In his not humble opinion, the mand had never sounded better. He licked and sucked the shaft to take on his ball, holding them and gently getting them together on his hands when he wasn't sucking on them, getting them full on his mouth. They were heavy and silky, so easy to play with. He couldn't help but consider that doing this from the start would have been so much better than whatever bullshit they were on before.

When he reached the cock again, Lucifer let it inside his throat and constricted around it, moving his finger all the quicker. Once he found that secret soft point inside, he attacked it without any mercy. Alastor gripped at his sheets to the point the fabric ripped underneath, but Lucifer did not mind.

He could repair it with a single snap later. Or let it be there as a reminder of how close to cats a deer could be. Whichever was the most amusing later.

For now, Alastor let out an actual scream as he came. Lucifer hold him by the hip as he swallowed it down everything. Not a single drop was out as he let the spent cock slip out of his lips. Alastor lifted the arm he had covered his eyes with to look at him. Among the tired bliss, confusion slipped by.

"I thought…" started until Lucifer grinned at him.

"One to loosen you up" explained, pulling his fingers away. Up to the final knuckle, the ring of Alastor squeezed tight with another moan. Lucifer lifted his legs up until he could clearly see the tight entrance blinking. "See? Now you are full ready. You still with me, Al?"

Alastor nodded slowly. Some entrands of red hair was stuck to his forehead. As he tried to cover himself up again with his forearm, Lucifer went over and stopped his hand. He kissed him, moving the hands of the sinner so it would hold his own leg bended over.

"None of that, buddy" said Lucifer with a softer voice. "I don't want to miss a single thing of you."

"Haven't you seen other people in this position before?" grumbled Alastor, but he did hold his leg as he let his head fall into the bed.

"I haven't seen you before," pointed out the devil and kissed his cheek when he saw another slight blush on his cheek.

Alastor sighed as he turned his face away. Lucifer allowed it to as he got himself in position. Just as he knew it would happen, Alastor's body was still riding on the last waves of his orgasm and far more relaxed than he started opening him. That and some lub conveniently appeared with magic and dripping down his cock, the insercion was rather easy.

The inside of the sinner seemed to accomodate and instantly embraced him. Alastor whimpered until the point that Lucifer was up to the base. Lucifer gave him a moment to assimilate the moment, not just physically, waiting for his sign to go on. Breathing deeply, Alastor grabbed both his hands and attracted them close, lifting his gaze. Even on that situation, his smile was there, was so small, like he couldn't bother to keep it entirely.

"What…?" asked Alastor after a while.

"You are so pretty." Lucifer smiled as he started to move his hips, not giving a chance to respond.

The voice of Alastor cracked out and static popped around him as Lucier started to set out a pace. Slowly building up the arousal for both of them, almost letting himself out entirely before coming down to him with a strong thrust. The moment that Lucifer felt Alastor's erection start to wake up, poking against him, he increased the speed.

Soon enough, sooner than he expected actually, Alastor let his legs fall around Lucifer, locking his ankles together. His claws grabbed to the devil's sides, burying themselves on his skin. Lucifer could barely feel a slight sting before his body healed itself. So shameless now in his desire, so absolutely naked on his need to be satisfied. Lucifer registered every change, drinking it all up like the best drink in all of Hell.

"You feel so good, baby," Lucifer gasped over him, entranced entirely. Alastor bite down on his lip as strong as to make drops of black blood. Lucifer licked him clean, sucking on the botton lip. A new whimper was the prelude to let him in. Alastor wasn't as needy on that area as their second kiss was, but the rest of his body was. Shivering and trembling, his waist was rubbing on Lucifer, his legs squeezed him close, his arms holding on to whatever of Lucifer he could grab. "Do you have any idea of how good do you look, Al? I am become addicted to this side of you if you aren't careful."

Alastor tried to reply, but instead of that another hight pitch crack of static broke down. He had been right that a man so dedicated to working his voice would appreciate compliment even now. From where he was, Lucifer could feel the signs even more clearly. And he had no intention to stopping.

Holding himself on his hands at the sides of Alastor's head, he impulsed himself with definite abandon. Despite his best effort, he didn't reached his final point at the same time as Alastor. But the contractions resulting from that second climax were exquisite. Lucifer pushed through those warm, tight, alive walls until the ball of tension in his belly losen up.

He came abundantly, devastatingly, better than his last session with his own toys had given him before. It seemed all his energy was squeezed out of him. When he fell to a side of Alastor, he cleaned him up with an easy spell. Alastor himself moved the pillow under him and let himself rest on the bed, eyes closed. Lucifer stayed on his side.

A not small part of him wanted to freak out. The part that just loved to freak out apparently, even if nothing was happening worth freaking out. All of this could go wrong in such a number of way and his mind would be more than pleased into providing every single one of them, each with even more distressing details for him to rumiate on his own. He tried to shut it down the absolute best he could, burying his face on his pillow. Everything was fine, right? Wasn't everything right? Or maybe not right, but fine. And maybe not fine, but not awful. Maybe not entirely hateable, despicable, disgusting, awful, a horrible mistake that would hunt him for the rest of his life.

A soft touch on his shoulder made him jolt. His sudden movement also made Alastor to retire his hand just as fast.

"Sorry" said Lucifer, offering a sheepish smile. "Are you okay?" asked, before the sinner could have the chance to do it to him.

"I am fine" said Alastor, turning on his side to face him fully. "I don't know how to adress you anymore" admitted with a slight frown.

Lucifer chuckled softly. That was his main concern now?

"Whatever is fine by me" said simply with a shrug. "You can just use my name if you want, I don't mind."

Alastor nodded softly.

"Lucifer" said, as if testing the words on his tongue. Lucifer gulped to ignore the little piece that warm on his chest. It had been a while since he talked to someone that didn't use his title. Not even Charlie, to whom he would always be dad. "Are we… I am not aware of the nuances of this situation. Are we doing this again?"

"Why not?" Lucifer smiled at him. There were a million reasons why not. But none of them mattered at all when he was looking directly the reason why yes was more attractive. "If we are both up for it, I mean" clarified, suddenly concerned. "Are you?"

Alastor chuckled. The first one that wasn't after a snarky comment that Lucifer saw from him.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it" said and his smile was back in place, but his eyes looked far softer now. Lucifer liked that look.

"Cool" Lucifer scooped a little closer. His kness knocked against the sinner's. To his surprise, Alastor extended his leg over it until their calf rubbed against each other. "Do you want to stay here a little while?"

"If you don't mind" said Alastor as Lucifer moved the cover of his bed over his shoulder, covering himself too in the way. Alastor sighed, relaxing further over the bed, as his gaze stayed looking at Lucifer back, with as much attention as he was doing.

"Am I still annoying up close?" couldn't help Lucifer to ask, smirking.

"Far or close, you are always annoying" said Alastor with a groan, turning the other way. He didn't moved as Lucifer wrapped his arms around him from behind. "But I guess you can have your moments."

"Likewise, buddy" Lucifer kissed the back of the sinner's neck.

He had no idea what any of this was, but at that moment, for now, it just felt right to slot their bodies together. Outsisde of his room another one could be the story, but there he knew everything he needed to know. Like how slowly Alastor's breathing could relax until he was just fully napping on his bed. Everything else would come out later.

[merirat]

I am overtired and high on caffeine and seaweed snacks, so I'm about to blather on about Hazbin Hotel things for no reason.

I have been seeing many Thoughts™ floating around online about Alastor's self-reliance, the reason for it, and how this might affect future Seasons and it gave me Other Thoughts regarding Alastor and Vox that ate my brain.

Under a cut to save dashes in case I can't shut up.

So... there are a lot theories around about Alastor and Vox went from friends to two hissing cats in an alley, a lot of which are centred around the Stayed Gone line "He asked me to join his team. I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea." and yeah, there's probably something to that, especially with a compact eight episodes per season, but...

Suppose for a minute it was something a lot more insignificant than that. Not in fact, but on the surface. You get someone like Alastor who is — it has been amply pointed out — self-sufficient to an almost dangerous degree. And yeah, he has the background: mixed race, only kid raised by a single mom, had to work his ass off to get to where he is, very unlikely to be getting help or hand-outs, just as likely to be fucked over if there ARE help or hand-outs, prompting a rejection of those. Just... the whole nine yards.

His interpersonal relationships kind of reflect this too. He's friends with Mimzy, who's probably as unreliable as hell, but doesn't pretend to be anything else, which must be refreshing. Hell, she's probably even come through for him on occasion when he's least expected it simply because he knows not to expect it. He has a relationship with Niffty that can be described as father/daughter or mentor/mentee, but it's definitely one where he is in a position of authority and he'll ask her to do things within her purview, but no more and no less. Rosie is a peer and, at the heart of it, transactional. You can more or less depend on someone who's getting something out of you.

And then there's Vox.

It's often noted that Alastor prefers the company of women, but that doesn't mean he dislikes the presence of all men. There's some speculation that Alastor played mentor to Vox too, and that's quite possible. Here's this new media-personality type around with this newfangled visual approach and since Vox was middle-aged and died in the 50s, when television was only JUST becoming The Thing, he would have a more than reasonable knowledge of radio as well. Like maybe Alastor started out as kind of a mentor figure, the guy Vox went to for advice and assistance, but damn... this is a genuine peer.

But, like... you can't just go trusting people, man.

Alastor's trying to keep it transactional as with Rosie, but Vox isn't about that. He's the "we're all in this together" guy. If you're genuinely bonded, he'll back you up. He's got you. And that's just... not something Alastor can believe.

When enough people let you down, you can't even trust people with the small things, never mind the big things. When enough people don't show up for you, you start to expect it to the point where you don't even give them a chance. You ask for a small favour and when it isn't miraculously done in an arbitrary amount of time that your brain just suddenly decides has been Too Long, you assume you've been ditched, do it yourself, and never ask them again.

Who the fuck is Vox to break that?

And Vox gets it. Sorta. I don't think you can really get it unless you've been there and he's never been. But okay... Alastor's got trust issues. That's fine. That's a thing. It's not going to go away overnight. Vox can handle that. He just has to keep proving that he's there, that he's got Alastor's back. He tries to make it official... Let's join up. Professionally or personally, doesn't matter. Let's do it. You and me against the world. I totally mean that.

And Alastor can't. He just can't. And that's fine. You can't right now. That's fine. Door's open.

But, you know... it makes Alastor think. Vox is someone who's willing to put his money where his mouth is. Beyond transactional. He's willing to bet a formal alliance.

So Alastor is still in his Overlord hunting phase and he really fucks himself over. Maybe it's Zestial. Maybe it's someone he beats, but he fucks himself up doing it. Like, he's in a bad way. And cell phones aren't thing yet, but they do have radio. He could... He could call Vox. Right? He could do that?

Right?

So Vox, nascent Overlord trying to get his studio up and running, is having the worst possible day. Like, every bit of shit that could hit the fan has hit the fan and is spraying everywhere. And he gets a radio transmission from Alastor. Alastor needs him and it's... well, kind of urgent.

And here's the thing. When you don't trust people to show up for you, there is no difference between "broke my leg, but probably won't die in the next hour" urgency and "I'm bleeding out, this is life or death" emergency. Hell, even admitting urgency is a bit much because when you routinely (if unknowingly) sabotage any attempt to assist you, putting that kind of onus on anyone fucks with your worldview.

So Vox is all, shit... I have all this and Alastor too. Well, it's urgent, so I'd better wrap up and get out there.

And he does. Pretty quickly too. Let's say it takes him about forty minutes. Forty minutes with a broken leg is horrible, but honestly... with travel and no cameras all over the city to zap around... understandable.

Forty minutes when you're bleeding out is a death sentence. Even if you can regenerate, I don't imagine it would be pleasant.

So Alastor waits, trying to first aid himself. Five. Ten. Okay, fifteen minutes and things are getting bad. He starts to find new ways to stitch himself back together.

Twenty minutes pass and what he's always suspected is true:

If you don't do it, no one else will.

So Vox shows up just after Alastor has finished helping his own self and gets the coldest reception ever recorded. What took you so long? I thought you had my back?/Hey, I came as soon as I could. You said it was urgent./Well, I needed you right away./This was as fast as I could get here short of an emergency./Well, it was an emergency./I didn't know it was an emergency! Why didn't you say it was an emergency?/You should have just been here. Obviously you can't be trusted./WTF? I dropped everything for you, you prick!

Etc.

Vox thinks this is very unfair. Very unreasonable. And it is. It's very unreasonable because it's very irrational. But also, Vox can't see the extent of the damage. Alastor won't show it now. The window for that kind of vulnerability is long gone.

Hate is love gone to seed. You hate in equal measure to what you loved. Alastor's hate is cold and disdainful. He just mocks Vox at a distance. The more cameras show up around Pentagram City, the more places he has to be condescending.

Vox's hate is hot and volatile. More so because he's confused. He's being shut out for being too slow because Alastor was hurt, but aside from a bit of blood around the place, the bastard was walking around and acting just fine. What the hell is this treatment? WTF? WTF? WTF?

They do dust up at least once — where Alastor almost beat Vox (and I contend he just up and left the fight) — but most of their fighting is just via video. Vox jeers from the screens and Alastor smirks into cameras.

And then the failed extermination happens. And Vox is thrilled when Alastor gets his ass handed to him. Like, genuinely. He loved enough to hate that much. He's genuinely pissed when Alastor gets away. Very much so.

Except, sometime later, when the Vees are making a play for the hotel, or otherwise trying to consolidate power, he gets one up on Alastor. Maybe they fight and Vox has him at his mercy. Maybe he gets captured and Vox is just lording over him. Whatever. And Vox notices that Alastor has kind of a lot of blood on him for what's been going on. For the kind of fight... For being tied up... Whatever.

And he just... needs to know. Because it's off. It's not right. And what he finds out is that the wound Adam gave Alastor hasn't healed. Not completely, or maybe not at all. Alastor's stitched it together with wishes and prayers and those don't hold so well.

And Vox wants to keep hating, because hate is addictive, but what you see through a screen and what you see in front of you are two different things and... well...

Vox... kind gets it.

Not really, because you can't know unless you've been there, but it's like... If Alastor's been walking around with this gaping wound, acting like nothing's wrong, what was he hiding back then? How much did Vox not see? It doesn't make Alastor's approach any less unreasonable, but... If he's got an angelic wound ripping him open and he doesn't feel he can ask Princess Unicorn Kisses for assistance, what does it mean that he asked Vox?

And Vox just... takes care of it. Not with any expectation... just because he didn't know back then and now he does. It's years, maybe decades too late, but he knows what he was needed for now. He couldn't be there then, but can be there now, and his side is closed. Whatever Alastor wants to make of that is whatever Alastor wants to make of that — no one's going to get over pathological levels of self-reliance in a night — but there's peace on one side.

So yeah... a bit complicated for eight episodes per season.

But holy fuck it would be hilarious if two media demons blew up their relationship over a lack of communication...

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 2

Chapter Links: First, <- Chapter 2 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour! ---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Extermination came and went with you wrapped up in all the blankets from your bed, crammed into the walk-in cooler Hal used to age gigantic slabs of meat.  Once the distant screams had died down you were quickly pulled from the fridge and put back to work, barely able to hold a knife in your frost nipped fingers. 

“Lotsa screaming means lotsa bodies,” Hal explained, tying the strings of his apron around his wide hips in a tight double knot.  “And lotsa bodies means lotsa meat.”

As though summoned by his words, a forceful knock sounded from the delivery entrance; a salesman bearing the first of many scavenged corpses sold to the shop for a quick buck. 

You stared down at the man laid across your chopping block, his face contorted to showcase the abject terror of his final moments.

“I'm sorry this happened to you,” you murmured quietly, fingers tracing the jagged cut that had ripped the man open from pelvis to sternum.  “But I promise to do a better job than they did.”

The angels had cut his life short.

And then you cut him into pieces.

It didn't seem particularly fair to you, but you supposed it was as balanced as things could be in Hell.  

Hal, in a rare show of mercy, gave his employees the weekend off to recuperate from the pre and post Extermination rushes.  You had been content to hole up inside your cramped apartment and sleep for the full two days, but once you remembered your promise to Ms. Rosie you managed to pull yourself out of bed and get dressed with a minimal amount of cursing. 

It wasn't difficult to find her once you actually managed to wake up enough to stumble down your apartment stairs without breaking your neck.  You'd pass by Franklin and Rosie's Emporium often enough running errands for Hal.  It would be hard to avoid the boutique considering it was smack dab in the middle of main street; placing it along just about every route through town.  

The Emporium offered a wide selection of impeccably tailored clothes you couldn't ever hope to afford with your meager earnings.  It was nearly impossible to swallow back the sour burn of envy roiling in your belly at the sight of the smartly dressed women spinning in front of mirrors in their tailored waistcoats and silver buttoned shoes.  You self consciously soothed out wrinkles in your burgundy colored skirt, the fabric likely permanently creased from being trapped under the tight sash of your butchery apron.

The checkout line moved slowly as every patron stopped to chat with Rosie or the woman standing beside her, and it felt like a small eternity had passed before you made it to the front of the queue.  Rosie's eyes widened as she saw you, a bright smile stretching across her face as she quickly skirted around to the front of the counter.

“Take over from me, Franklin!” Rosie called out to her companion over her shoulder, motioning you to follow her with an excited wave of her hand.  “I've got a special guest visiting!”

Rosie led you to a darling two person cafe table pushed into an alcove with a giant window overlooking the central square of Cannibal Town, where a barbershop quartet was starting to attract a fair bit of attention from passers by.  Rosie was silent as she slid up behind you, but the weight of her aura was somehow palpable; like a humidity that clogged the air and made breathing a laborious task.

“It's pretty peaceful for a place called Cannibal Town, isn't it?” Rosie boasted, but you couldn't fault her for her pride.  You knew from stories around town that the orderly life on display was the result of her tireless effort to secure a better life for the sinners under her rule.  

“It is,” you agreed readily, sliding carefully  into the chair that one of her attendants had pulled out for you while Rosie settled down across the table.  “You've built a lovely community, Ms. Rosie.”

“Oh, aren't ya' just the sweetest thing!” Rosie chirped in delight, hoisting a tray of finger foods up under your nose.  “Canapé?”

You were too nervous to be hungry, but grabbed a couple of crackers topped with thin slices of blood sausage and dollops of roasted marrow to be polite.  Not sure what to say, you quickly popped one of the hors d'oeuvres into your mouth immediately and hoped Rosie would take hold of the conversational reins.

Rosie, mercifully, rose to the occasion.  

“So, you seem to be fitting in pretty well around here.  That's unusual these days,” she said, deftly pouring some piping hot bone broth into dainty porcelain tea cups.  “Hard to find new sinners willing to live without television or cellular phones.”

You couldn't help but think of how much of your life had been squandered in front of screens; the endless hours of scrolling and watching and seeing and wanting- of wondering why your life never seemed to compare to the ones that clogged your social media feeds.  

“Those- those things do me more harm than good, I think,” you admit between small bites of sausage.  

“Oh, honey.  Those gadgets are nothing but trouble for everyone,” Rosie cooed comfortingly before angling her head down to mumble into her cup “especially down here.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over,” Rosie laughed dismissively, pushing a platter of finger sandwiches towards your now empty plate.  You grabbed the one with a thumb poking out, saving the sandwiches stuffed with choicer pinky digits for your host.  

“It's nice to see you don't shy away from the…specialized fare Cannibal Town is known for,” Rosie said approvingly, watching as you skillfully de-nailed the finger in your sandwich.  “Did working at the butcher shop help acclimate ya'?”

“A bit.  I won't lie, it was really hard at first.  I spent a lot of time pretending that I was eating other stuff- beef, pork, a really convincing soy substitute,” you admit. “But after a little while that started to feel, I don't know, disrespectful?”

“Oh?” 

“It's like- this person is nourishing me.  I am alive because of them.  It didn't seem right to pretend that they were somehow less than what they were; especially when they were providing me with so much.  Acknowledging their life, what they were-” you paused, considering your words along with the remaining phalange held between your fingers.  “It's the least I can do.  A way I can thank them.”

You feel a bit vulnerable from your confession, never having voiced your thoughts out loud before, and it takes you a moment to muster the courage to look up from your hands and meet your host’s gaze again.  Rosie is positively beaming at you, her small nose crinkled in delight.

“I need you to promise me you'll try and get out more, sweetie.  It's very inconsiderate for you to deprive the citizens of Cannibal Town of your company,” Rosie said, leaning over the table to place her hand on top of yours, the press of her fingers a balm to your touch-starved soul. “You're one of us now.  It's time to start acting like it.”

You'd reluctantly started to make appearances around town.  It started small, with short walks around the park when the belladonna began to bloom, followed by the weekly al fresco concerts once the early spring acid rains tapered off.  

And then suddenly a switch seemed to flip.  People would wave good morning to you from across the street, customers would ask about how your weekend was, and  your coworkers invited you out for drinks after work.  You'd gone from merely existing in Cannibal Town to really living in Cannibal Town.  

You tried to not dwell on how much happier you were in Hell than you were on Earth, fearful about what exactly that said about the sort of person you were. 

The years ticked by and before you knew it the workers at the butcher shop had surprised you with a lopsided devils food cake to celebrate your fifth death day.

“When you're facing down eternity you don't celebrate every single year,” Dorcas, the girl who usually worked the register, explained.  “Five is the first milestone party, followed by twenty-five and fifty.  They get more spaced out as time goes on.”

You had woken up early the next day, dehydrated with a headache pounding behind your eyeballs from overindulging at your death day celebration.  Hal, in a show of incredible foresight, had scheduled you for the afternoon shift.  With a mug of watery coffee in hand, you were slowly shambling to the threadbare armchair in the corner of your room when the broken radio on the side table suddenly began shooting off sparks; the device alight with an eerie green glow.

“SWEET SASSY MOLASSY,” you screamed, accidentally spilling coffee down the front of your dressing gown as you leaped away from the ancient box radio.

“Salutations!  Good to be back on the air!” a staticky voice greeted, the cheery tone completely at odds with your abject misery as you pulled your soaked nightgown away from your chest to cool your singed flesh.

The radio was loud, the volume knob having been set to maximum when it suddenly powered on; but the sound inside your apartment was nothing compared to the uproarious cheers you heard coming from outside as the citizens of Cannibal Town overjoyed by the return of their favorite radio program.  

[marblemoovt]

Ok, but hear me out. Sugar Daddy Demons.

I’ve only ever seen the original pilot, not the series, but the hazbin brain rot is real. I saw a post ages ago about having a sugar demon (picture above) and it makes me wonder what the scenario would be like with Lucifer or Alastor.

Might write a proper oneshot/series for it, but for now have some Luci headcanons for the first meeting. With a few tweaks it could work for Alastor.

Sugar Demon! Lucifer Headcanons

It had started off as an accident, summoning the king of hell

A dusty leather bound tome found in the attic of a house you bought for way too cheap

The cover was littered with intricate symbols and a beautifully carved goat head

Despite your best attempts, the book wouldn’t open, like someone had glued the damn thing shut

So you decided to bring it down to use as decoration, maybe spook your houseguests with the rumours that a cult used to live here

After some elbow grease, you managed to remove all the dust and grime from the leather

You flop down onto your bed and admire the clean lines on the cover. Until the cover starts getting bigger and bigger

*Thwap*

The heavy tome falls flat on your face, your forehead and nose bearing the brunt of the force.

You sit up, book sliding onto your lap as pain floods your face.

Red droplets splash onto the cover, and you wipe your nose with one hand and the other smears the blood on the book in an attempt to clean it.

You start to think the book caused some brain damage when the lines fill with a deep red, contrasting against the black leather

You jump up, the book tumbling onto the floor and clatters as it opens to a random page.

Guess all it needed was a good smack

Out of curiosity, you read aloud the open page. The foreign words twist your tongue into knots.

The tome shakes and blinds you with a bright light. Where’s the dark mode on this thing??

You toss the book away from you in a panic, and suddenly there’s a very confused… man? He’s sitting in the middle of your floor surrounded by an alarming amount of rubber duckies.

He certainly didn’t look human, but you recognized a few biblical motifs in his outfit. Honestly, he was kinda cute. Blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and a quirky little ringleader getup. What’s not to like?

Guess a cult really did live here before (What did they worship though? Some duck deity?). If you had to guess, you just successfully completed your first summoning ritual. Would you exchange your soul for immense power? Bottomless wealth? To have your back blown out by a demon—specifically him?

You dismiss the last idea.

“Nice ducks,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you immediately want to kick yourself. So smooth. Look at you, master of first impressions. If you’re lucky, you won’t be obliterated on the spot and have your soul dragged to the underworld.

Red irises sweep the room until they land on you, narrowing to study you in detail. His mouth slowly stretches into a wide grin, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth.

You swallow the nerves bundling in your throat and return a wobbly smile.

What the fuck did you just get yourself into?

[foreficfandom]

Alastor - Historical Trivia And Headcanons

Alastor was a mixed-race Creole man living in New Orleans, and was in his 30's/40's when he died in 1933. We don't know much else about him, but historical context can provide us with possible additional details:

The population of New Orleans in 1930 was 458,762, more than it is now. 27.2% of the people were black, 3.1% were foreign-born, and roughly half of America's bipoc population was unemployed thanks to the Great Depression. New Orleans' original Francophonication was still strong, and it was common to run into locals who only spoke French dialects (Cajun French, Louisiana Creole). The city has had a huge Chinatown, a small Little Italy, and multiple other districts known for their immigrant African/colonized French cultures.

The Jim Crow laws were heavily enforced, as was the 'One Drop' rule. If Alastor was a mixed race black man, he would not have been able to attend a white school, use the same public transport, and would have shopped at black-local stores and restaurants under threat of violence. If he was mixed with any other race, some Jim Crow laws didn't apply, but state or city laws might specify differently.

Just because Alastor wears a suit, it doesn't mean he was rich in life. Radio personalities often didn't earn a fortune. Unless he owned his own broadcast, he was paid by a private company for long shifts of hosting music, news, and radio plays. In 1930, 40% of households owned at least one radio, which means that a popular radio host would have been easily recognized.

If he was in his late 30's in 1933, he might have fought in WW1, so long as he was over the age of 21. Some cities gave veterans small benefits, or encouraged the community to give them jobs. This often did not include veterans of color.

New Orleans was famous for being one of the least Christian cities in America, thanks to its unique immigrant and slave population. Haitian-based faiths and practices (such as voudo), indigenous cultures, Asian Buddhism, and atheism were common. But Christianity was still the official, law-enforced religion. Schooling involved reading the Bible, laws were sworn to Jesus, etc.

Alastor's outfit in Hazbin Hotel isn't very accurate to real-life American men's fashions of the time. Back then, deviating from the norm with the smallest detail would have stuck out like a sore thumb - like his white-lined lapels. Men always wore a hat. They were allowed to go without a waistcoat, but not a jacket. Belts were becoming more popular than suspenders. The silhouette was bulkier than the slimmer, Italian cuts of our modern times, especially the pants. Hair was kept short, and oiled down in a side part. Americans preferred the clean shaven look. Ties were essential unless you were a blue-collar laborer. Colors were almost universally muted neutral tones for everyday wear. The most colorful textiles for men were sporting outfits, like a tennis jacket.

If Alastor was a middle-class single man, he likely would have lived in an inner-city apartment, in an ethnic neighborhood. He probably didn't own a car, and took public transit like the streetcars. If he owned a house, it would likely have been an inheritance, and even the more opulent houses of the time would have looked small and plain to our eyes.

Because of the Great Depression, unmarried men were becoming the norm, rather than the exception. Men of the community who were sought after but remained single were suspect to gossip, but less ire than you might think; in the '30s, American queer culture was going through a very sharp revival, escaping the rigid Victorian era and before the puritan 40's/50's. But as a mixed-race man, it may have been illegal for a white woman to marry him, as the Jim Crow laws forbade the marriage of white people and Black/Asian people.

A middle class city household would have had electricity, gas heating, indoor plumbing, but may not have had running taps or a gas stove. Even with decent means, Alastor might have been using a potbelly woodburning stove, a dry sink/washbasin, wooden bathtub, and did his own laundry instead of sending it to the neighborhood laundresses. He may or may not have bothered with an icebox. Fresh groceries needed to be cooked and eaten soon, as things like pasteurized milk or store refrigeration wasn't a thing.

If he had enough money, then he almost certainly hired maids or other servants. Whether the maid came over just once a week, or did the shopping and laundry every other day, hired help was much more common back then, especially if he had no wife.

The most popular musicians in 1933 were Bing Crosby, George Olsen, and Leo Reisman. As you might have noticed, it was trendy for the lead singer to be backed by an orchestra, not a 'band' of just four other people like today. The most popular radio shows were Dick Tracy, Sherlock Holmes, and Doc Savage. They were recordings the radio station would buy and then broadcast, or sometimes the actors were live on the air. The radio host was usually not the journalist - the production team was responsible for writing his script.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Tangled AU)

*once a long time ago in beautiful kingdom called Eden, a drop of sunlight fell to the Earth and a golden flower bloomed there, a man named Alastor found the flower and used it to gain power and youth by singing to it*

Alastor: 🎶 Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine. Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine. 🎶

*the flower glowed and age melted from Alastor leaving a young looking man with a creepy smile, Alastor did that for many years, hiding the flower from anyone else, but then Sera the current Queen of Eden found herself pregnant not long after she found out her husband died in battle, the pregnancy and deep despair caused Sera to fall very sick and the kingdom to moon for something to help her, one night Alastor didn’t hide the flower well enough and the guards found the flower and had Sera drink a potion made from the flower which made her regain her health and she eventually gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with very long golden hair the same color as the flower and she named the baby Adam as his father, but what was truly beautiful why Adam was his golden eyes that rivaled the golden hair, Eden celebrated by releasing glowing lanterns into the sky*

Sera: My little Starlight, I love you.

*Sera put Adam in the crib and went to bed, Alastor who was already looking older snuck into the room, he grabbed some of the hair*

Alastor: 🎶 Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine. Make the clock reserve, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine. 🎶

*the hair glowed and Alastor became young again, the power was in the Prince’s hair, Alastor pulled out a knife and cut off a little bit of the hair, but it turned the color of milk chocolate and was useless*

Alastor: I guess, I will take the baby with me, I hate babies.

*Sera went to check on Adam when she saw a man in a cloak holding Adam in his arms*

Sera: Adam, my Starlight, give me back my baby.

*Alastor jumped out of window with Adam as Sera cried for the guards, Alastor locked Adam tower, but every year on Adam’s birthday the kingdom would release lanterns into the sky hoping that the Prince would them and find his way home*

Adam yawned and stretched as he got out of bed. He had so much to do today before Al got home.

He cooked, he cleaned until the place was spotless. Adam watered the plants, got some food for Lute his pet chameleon.

Adam: So, chores are all done! What do you want to do today?

Lute only blinked and shrugged.

Adam: Well you're no fun. Oh! We can bake, Al loves pie. Maybe that will put him in a good mood? Oh and painting, knitting, what about a puppet show? Oh don't let me forget to make dinner for tonight, Al was upset last time.....

Adam did everything like he always does to fill the time of his day. And when there was really nothing else to do.

He brushed his hair. That was a chore in and of itself.

He started painting the walls some more, Al didn't care since he was only really here at night now. He would travel all day going to places far and wide.

Adam hoped that one day they could go together.

One thing Adam wanted more than anything for his 19th birthday was to see the glowing lights that appeared every year on his birthday. He could see them from his window. The only decent window in the tower.

Adam was in the middle of cooking dinner when he heard Al call for him.

Alastor: Adam! Let down your hair!

Adam: Coming!

Adam ran to the window and wrapped his hair around a hook and threw down the rest for Al to climb up.

Alastor: Oh, I don't know how you do that day in and day out. It looks exhausting.

Adam: Hehe, it's nothing.

Alastor: Then I don't know why it takes so long. Ha! You should see your face, lighten up Addie.

Addie. That meant Al was in a good mood. Okay good. Maybe Adam could work up the nerve to ask him.

Maybe tomorrow.

Adam: How was your trip?

Alastor: Long and exhausting.

Adam: Oh, well dinner should be ready soon.

Alastor: Go check, then you can sing to me.

Adam: Okay.

-

The next day just as Alastor was leaving for the day again, a thief had just stolen the crown that belonged to the long lost prince.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Autumn's End ~ Part 1

RadioApple🍂Human Au/Age Gap 🍁Top!Dom!Alastor

🍂Divorced Dad!Lucifer🍁Explicit~ 8.1k

🍂🍁🍃

🍁 On Ao3🍁Read for Free on Ream🍁On Tumblr 🍁

Lucifer Morningstar stood on the deck of the family's chalet, breathing the crisp mountain air, determined to carry on this family tradition. Even if he was doing it alone. He'd do it for Charlie.

Blazing autumn leaves floated down from the towering oaks and caused ripples along the surface of the mirror lake below. Lucifer gripped to the rough hewn railing, grounding himself, determined to just be normal for once since the divorce.

The two-story cabin was the perfect place. With its walls mostly made of windows overlooking the last gasp of beautiful fall foliage, a fully stocked kitchen, fire pit, two hot tubs, and the smell of wood smoke still lingering from the fireplace he'd prepped.

Charlie had always loved their farewell to fall getaway. And Lucifer was ready for a relaxing weekend, bundled up in cozy sweaters with warm mugs of spiced cider.

And Charlie's new girlfriend would just make the merrier.

Sure, Lucifer had met her before, sure, he'd made a bit of a fool of himself trying so hard not to be awkward that he'd overdone the gracious host bit and come back around to painfully awkward again.

So, there was a lot riding on this relaxing weekend.

Lucifer jumped, catching his sweater on the balcony when he registered the sound of tires crunching their way up the gravel drive.

He hurried back into the main living room, grabbing up the last few things—throwing fluffy pillows back onto the loveseat and the two armchairs, making sure everything was perfect.

He paused at the wall of windows. Already grinning as he saw Charlie's tank of an old SUV made its way across the carpet of leaves. The front doors open, depositing his beaming daughter and her scowling girlfriend out into the autumn air. When one of the back doors opened, and a long pair of legs emerged.

Right. Charlie had asked to bring her roommate this year.

Look, call Lucifer old fashion—his daughter was bi and so was he—but he'd blanched when he heard his little girl had a male roommate. Thought the school was being way too modern when they changed the dorm policy to co-ed roommates.

But the young man before him was nothing like Lucifer pictured for a college roommate.

Alastor stood there, exuding a calm assurance that seemed almost out of place amidst the playful chaos of falling leaves.

His skin was a warm, rich brown, contrasting beautifully with the soft dark curls that framed his face. Round, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, framing bright hazel eyes. A well-tailored coat hugged his long and lean frame.

Despite the nip in the air, he looked impeccably comfortable, like the cold wouldn't dare touch him without permission.

A pretty gay twink if he'd ever seen one.

Not remotely Lucifer's type, not going to be‌ a problem.

With a deep breath, the short blonde turned away from the wall of windows, stealing himself to play the indulgent parent who just wanted his grown little girl to have a good weekend with her friends.

Alastor. The kid's name was Alastor. He remembered Charlie practically dancing on his heartstrings with how her roommate was facing his first school break without his mother.

Lucifer was pretty much incapable of refusing his daughter's wishes, divorced dad guilt, but how could he ever say no after that?

The chilled autumn air gusted in as Lucifer opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch--and right into the middle of a conversation.

"Yeah my family's been coming to this challette for years." Charlie was saying gleefully.

"Chalet, my dear." Alastor interjected in a voice that was shockingly smooth as velvet. "It's pronounced shal-ay,"

"Whatever," Charlie shrugged, unfazed by the correction, like it happened all the time.

"Yeah, whatever." Vaggie echoed emphatically, shooting a glare at Alastor over Charlie's shoulder. "Not like it matters."

Alastor's eyes rolled from the picturesque scenery towards the short woman with long black hair and tawny skin. A silent glare passed between them.

"Hey Dad!" Charlie called out, lighting up like a sunset as she bounded towards him. Her laugh was like wind chimes and her smile was playful.

Warming Lucifer right to his core.

"Hey Char-Char!" He barely had time to brace himself before Charlie collided with him full-force, her energy and arms wrapping around him. Hugging him without an ounce of holding back.

God, he missed this.

The mountains were already working their magic. 

"Whoa, careful there." Lucifer laughed, his heart swelling happily. "Missed you so much kiddo."

"Missed you too, dad." Charlie set him back on his feet with a grin.

Vaggie was right at her side, just behind, loyal and stern-faced as ever. Alastor lingered further behind.

Lucifer turned to his daughter's girlfriend, unsure if he should go for a handshake before he extended his arms and gave what was a slightly more restrained hug.

Okay, so it was stiff and awkward, but he was trying.

Vaggie reciprocated politely, though the discomfort lingered between them like an unwanted guest.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Moringstar,"

"Please, call me Lucifer." He reminded her gently, trying to bridge a little of the gap formality put between them.

Vaggie gave a brief nod—but hey, it was a start.

Lucifer then shifted his attention to Alastor ‌and before he could worry about making his terrible first impression—it was like the swirling red and gold leaves all went still.

The air went from brisk to sharply cold, biting into Lucifer's exposed skin and turning his face pink.

From a distance, through the window, he'd imagined Alastor was a sweet little harmless gay boy.

But now, Lucifer's assumptions were crumbling under the reality of Alastor's silently overwhelming presence.

Alastor stood there, the little smile playing on his lips, exuding an undeniable aura of dominance and control.

Those hazel eyes that looked soft and inviting through the window now pinned him like a butterfly with his precise gaze.

It was like staring down a damn mountain lion, a graceful creature that was only staying still while it suited him.

Lucifer questioned every ounce of gaydar he'd ever had.

And then, the hazel eyes locked on his. And Lucifer felt like the mountain was about to slip out from under his feet.

Those eyes weren't as remotely soft as he imagined. And it was like they could see right through the thick knit of his cozy sweater. To everything that Lucifer would rather hide.

Here he was, recently divorced, depressed, an insomniac who soothed his emotions and stilled his mind by making fool meals at midnight, being looked at like that.

His self-esteem still hadn't recovered from the end of his relationship with Lilith, and he was utterly unprepared for such an intense, self-assured man--who was half his age!

Then, the corners of Alastor's lips curled into a smile--and even the suggestion that he liked what he saw, sent heat rushing into Lucifer's cheeks.

"Oh, Alastor." Charlie seemed to appear suddenly, breaking the moment like a twig snapping underfoot. She stepped forward, grabbing the younger man's arm with the kind of graceless enthusiasm that only his daughter could pull off. "This is my dad, Lucifer."

Alastor gave a chuckle that made Lucifer forget there was a chill in the air.

"Mr.Morningstar." Alastor replied smoothly, extending a hand towards the blonde.

Who had to get over the fact that his charm cast an instant spell and were wrapping around Lucifer like silk.

Lucifer extended his hand on instinct, about to give the same reminder as he gave Vaggie about using his first name, hoping that it would dispel some of the swirling tension simmering in the air between them.

But, before Lucifer could form the words, he felt his h and enveloped in Alastor's.

The dark-haired man's grasp was firm as iron. As if that weren't enough to knock Lucifer off balance, Alastor's other hand came to clasp his wrist, pulling him in with a silent force that sent his heart racing into his throat.

It was a dominant, decisive gesture that left no room for his intentions to be misunderstood.

Lucifer stumbled over his words and nearly over his own feet, leaves crunching under his boots.

"The pleasure's all yours, isn't it?" Alastor's voice was all smoothness and certainty.

"Uh, yeah." Lucifer managed to reply, realizing that his voice came out like a breathless murmur.

He really hoped that his flamed cheeks would be counted to the chilly wind nipping at his exposed skin--not the fluttering spark he was promptly smothering.

Lucifer finally remembered to release Alastor's hand, and fully retreat back into the role of host.

"Let me help with the back—bags." The words tumbled out quickly as he hurried around Charlie's old SUV. Anything to redirect his focus from this heat rising inside him.

Busying himself helping Charlie and Vaggie, and ignoring the young man next to him also moving to help, with that silent smirk.

Lucifer went to grab a suitcase that he recognized belonged to his daughter—which he should have realized was over-packed as always—and nearly fell from the trunk onto him.

Alastor's hand shot out, catching the bag by the handle, and setting it neatly on its wheels.

"Careful," he teased lightly, in that ringing velvet voice of his. "Not to bite off more than you can chew."

Lucifer swallowed, refusing to let his mind lean into the implication of those words.

"I can handle it." Lucifer huffed, grabbing the suitcase stubbornly.

Alastor gave a smirk and a shrug.

Lucifer hurried up the front porch into the chalet, realizing how severely he'd underestimated Alastor's slender frame and fastidious dressing.

There was nothing twink about Alastor.

He was a commanding presence wrapped in charm and elegance. And everything Lucifer found attractive.

That thought nearly stopped the man dead in his tracks.

Sure, he was recently divorced from Lilith. And he'd been in a dry spell ever since—but he quickly banished the entire stupid notion. There were only a million reasons why it wasn't even worth a thought.

He was a recently divorced dad, not so much rocking the dad bod as falling into it one midnight snack at a time. He'd never been confident enough to approach anyone without Lilith. There was no way he would be interested in Lucifer. Alastor was young, gorgeous, and obviously charismatic.

Besides, the kid was half his age.

Lucifer shook the thought from his head.

This weekend was about reconnecting with Charlie, a growing bond with Vaggie, hopefully. And fully restarting this family tradition.

Not a tryst with a pretty boy half his age.

🍂🍁🍃

Lucifer lead the way up the wide staircase to the second floor of the chalet.

This part of the house was mostly loft. Another comfortable seating area that looked down over the living room and fireplace. But it was where most of the bedrooms were in the cabin.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking animatedly all the way up and past the seating area towards the bedrooms. Talking about the beautiful scenic views and the winding road that had gotten them up the mountain.

But Lucifer's attention kept wandering right back to Alastor. Who wasn't doing anything but carrying the girls' extra bags and lingering behind and being silent and cryptic.

"Here we are," Lucifer announced, pushing open the door to Charlie's room with his elbow.

It was quaint, really, but he'd redecorated a bit since Charlie had grown up. And he really hoped he hadn't overdone it. Charlie had liked it bright and colorful when she was a kid, except for that one emo phase.

But now, there were simple flower curtains and soft plush carpeting. Overlooking the towering forest outside.

"I made the room up for two, you know, obviously, because you're grown now." Lucifer said, meaning to sound supportive, though he saw Charlie's cheeks get as pink as his were outside. And Vaggie looking anywhere but at him. "Which, I understand and I'm not judging because obviously...you're an adult and—" Lucifer trailed off, painfully awkward—

Before Charlie thankfully but gracelessly interrupted. "Thanks, Dad! The room looks great."

Alastor chuckled softly, stepping into the girl's room only long enough to drop off the two bags he was holding. Before stepping back over the threshold neatly.

Like a gentleman wouldn't be standing too long in a lady's room.

Except a gentleman wouldn't look at him like he would devour him like he was going to devour him the first time they met. Or, like, right now, in his daughter's room.

Vaggie and Charlie went into their room. Leaving Lucifer to find himself alone in the hallway. With Alastor.

"Uh, yours is over there." Lucifer quickly gestured across the hall, trying to make sure his voice cut through the thick tension.

"Thank you." Alastor said simply, with what must be his polite smile—and not his I'm about to undress you with my eyes smile.

The younger man stepped alertly inside, dropping off only a simple weekend bag and a leather school bag.

Lucifer turned, only to see Alastor leaning over the doorway towards him. And he suddenly felt like he was standing too close to a roaring fire.

"Where is your room, Mr. Morningstar?" Alastor's voice cut through the quiet, smooth and spiked with something that made Lucifer's pulse quicken. It was pointed and almost suggestive.

"Not up here." Lucifer blurted around the tumultuous flutter in his chest. He realized it came out almost, defensive. That he was nearly snapping at this stranger for this thing that was mostly going on in his head.

Though the way Alastor arched his eyebrow, Lucifer seriously doubted it was all in his head.

"Downstairs. I mean," Lucifer said, trying to smooth his little outburst over.His mind raced, trying to think of anything to fill this charged silence between them.

"Dad has the master bedroom downstairs," Charlie chirped, her sudden reappearance in the hallway breaking the spell. Her eyes were bright and sparkling with something. "It even has its own hot tub!"

Lucifer swallowed, thickly.

"How interesting." Alastor murmured, a crooked smile tugging onto the corner of his lips. Fucking suggestive again.

"It's not, all that interesting." Lucifer said, too quickly jumping on this irrational urge to stifle whatever idea had taken hold. "And you won't be seeing it, anyway."

He muttered under his breath, languishing in that same stretching silence, before Lucifer forced a hollow chuckle to break it.

"So, I'm sure you kids had a long drive from school up the mountain." Lucifer fumbled the words a little bit, swinging his arms as he stepped back towards the stairs. "So I made an early dinner. Fall favorites I know Char-Char loves."

"That sounds amazing, sir," Vaggie said, strolling through whatever moment of silent communication Alastor and Charlie were having between them.

"Yeah, long drive, mountain, food." He gestured down the stairs, grateful to move down towards them.

"Food sounds amazing right about now." Charlie declared, following after him, passing him on the stairs in her enthusiasm to get down to the kitchen.

Lucifer grabbed the railing, pausing halfway down the curved staircase—realizing he knew and missed the feeling of the weight of Alastor's gaze on his back.

Neither Alastor or Vaggie had moved.

She had stepped into his line of sight, her stance firm and uncompromising, with her hands planted on her hips. Like she was daring Alastor to make another move.

The much taller man was meeting Vaggie's sternness with a little bemused look behind his round glasses. Lucifer felt like he was eavesdropping on a private conversation.

But before the tension could escalate further, Alastor inclined his head, and gestured gracefully for Vaggie to walk ahead of him.

The woman, three times as fierce as she was tall, gave a short, satisfied nod, and headed for the stairs behind Lucifer.

***

The kitchen was his realm.

It was his studio and his sanctuary where Lucifer could control and create whatever he wanted. And the smell of roasted butternut squash and cinnamon scented the air and made everything feel warm and fuzzy.

"Here we are." Lucifer murmured to himself, rolling up his sleeves with practiced ease.

He could move through this space with confidence, arranging platers with finesse.

Pumpkin soup simmered gently on the stove, its rich color a warm promise. He'd also made an arugula salad with pecans and cranberries, will the apple tart was cooling on the counter, ready for dessert.

Charlie bounded into the kitchen, her eyes widening with delight that soothed every ache in Lucifer's old soul.

"You really outdid yourself, Dad!"

"Oh, thanks, sweetie."

The clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of conversation filled the cozy dining room, casting a warm glow over the table as the sun set beyond the wall of windows.

Lucifer sat happily at the head of the small but polished mahogany table, just enjoying the company. His eyes flitting between emptying dishes and the easy conversation flowing in peaks and valleys.

"Midterms were killer." Charlie groaned.

Vaggie put her hand on Charlie's, drawing Lucifer's eyes to the movement. And it warmed his heart too. "You did great hon, I know you rocked the performing arts major."

"Well, someone has to keep politicians honest, like you're going to, Vaggie."

Sure, it was cute, sweet talk, but really Lucifer didn't mind. He was glad his daughter had this. That the girls seemed to take such good care of each other. And support each other.

"Performing arts is hard, but it's worth every second."

Lucifer nodded along. Offering an occasional chuckle or hum of agreement.

He wasn't exactly sure what he could add to the conversation, but he knew he had to keep focused on anything but the magnetic pull towards Alastor's seat at the table.

The gorgeous brunette younger man sat across the table from him, muted but present, like a shadow cast by candlelight.

"Oh, Al," Charlie started, startling her father. Wondering if she had read his wandering mind—but also wondering if anyone but charlie would dare to call Alastor a nickname.

"You haven't been talking much. Did you tell Dad your major?"

The brunette lifted his eyes, making Lucifer's breath catch, before he gave a casual shrug as he stirred his soup.

"I'm a double major." He said, his eyes catching Lucifer's. And the older man's breath. "in performing arts and forensic science."

Though the answer made his own brow raise. "Wow, that's...an unusual combination."

Alastor smiled like he had a secret everyone else wanted to know.

"I've been told I have...eclectic tastes." He said, smoothly, leaning back in his chair like he commanded all the air in the room. "But, I know exactly what I like, and where my talents are."

The words hung in the air, a subtle challenge that was sending another one of those damn shivers down Lucifer's spine.

Before the heat could rise back into his cheeks, Lucifer stood. "I think it's time for dessert," he announced, retreating to the safety of the kitchen.

When he returned, with a tray of apple tart and ice cream, his gaze involuntarily flickered over towards Alastor.

The younger man was leaned back in his chair, his hands rested on the arms, his posture open wide...and inviting.

"Who wants whipped cream?" Lucifer said quickly, only to wince at how easy that would be to twist around.

He heard Alastor chuckle low as both girls asked for ice cream, shaking his head gently. Like he knew it would be too easy, too.

Lucifer kept his eyes on slicing and scooping as he served.

He gave Charlie a generous portion, and Vaggie. Swallowing and trying to steal himself as he turned to Alastor.

"Ice cream?" He offered.

The younger man smirked. "Just the whipped cream." Alastor said, and it was thankfully the most normal and unsuggestive tone he had ever used and Lucifer was grateful.

Until the younger scooped up a spoonful of tart, and shot Lucifer another one of those smirks. "I don't like sweets, usually."

Lucifer huffed, turning to his own tart. "Well, then, you won't like much I make." turning back to his own portion. And nearly burying it in whipped cream.

But he swore he heard Alastor say. "We'll see."

***

As Lucifer straightened up from adding the logs to the fire, the warmth of the flames now a comforting presence against the chill of the mountain night, he caught sight of Alastor's gaze.

The younger man's eyes were unapologetically fixed on him, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. Which made Lucifer realize that Alastor had been watching him bent over the fireplace—and there wasn’t even a hint of embarrassment on his face for having been caught staring at the older man’s ass.

Instead, Alastor’s stare was steady, almost challenging, daring Lucifer to acknowledge it, to call him out.

For a moment, the short blonde felt suspended—But he didn't say anything. He couldn't. The admonition seemed to lodge in his throat, and he turned back to the crackling fire to distract him.

"Here we go," Charlie said brightly, breaking the tension as she settled back onto the sofa next to Vaggie. She picked up the remote and began flicking through the movie options. "Perfect end to a long day."

"Definitely," Vaggie agreed, leaning into her girlfriend, their shared warmth evident.

Alastor sat in one of the arm chairs, one knee bent as he leaned casually. Confident as a house cat surveying his domain, and eyeing the canary cage.

Lucifer hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the plush armchair directly across from Alastor. It was impossible not to be aware of how this arrangement placed them facing each other. His mind raced with thoughts of their earlier exchange.

But Alastor's attention was now focused on the flickering flames, the light casting shadows that danced across his face and glinting in his glasses, obscuring his expression.

The room filled with the soft sounds of the movie beginning, but Lucifer found his own focus wandering, drawn irresistibly back to the man opposite him.

"Hey, how about we switch to something more fun?" Charlie interrupted, a lighthearted suggestion as she picked up the remote once more. "Like a baking show!"

"Sounds good," Vaggie agreed, with a nod.

Lucifer watched as the screen flickered to life with images of powdered sugar and expertly piped frosting. The cheerful narration filled the room.

"Do you bake much, Lucifer?" Alastor asked suddenly, turning his head slightly, just enough to suggest that his attention had finally shifted from the flames.

"Here and there," Lucifer replied, trying to sound casual, though he was acutely aware of the younger man's focus now fixed on him. "I find it...relaxing."

"An outlet for creativity," Alastor remarked, his voice smooth, yet there was an undercurrent of something unspoken, something that tugged at the edge of Lucifer's curiosity.

"Exactly," Lucifer said, nodding, feeling encouraged by the easy warmth of the conversation. For a moment, he wondered what thoughts swirled beneath Alastor's composed exterior. 

The four of them fell into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter about the basics of souffles and the perfect pie crust. But, Lucifer sensed Alastor's mind wandering, as if part of him was elsewhere.

Without warning, Alastor stood. "I think I'll turn in for the night," he announced, his tone polite but distant. "Goodnight, everyone."

"Night, Al," Charlie chimed. While Vaggie didn’t give much more than a nod in his direction.

"Goodnight," Lucifer added, watching as Alastor made his way toward the stairs, leaving behind an air of unresolved tension.

As the sound of his door closing echoed from above, Vaggie leaned closer to Charlie, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Something’s off with him."

"Vaggie, he’s just not super social." Charlie assured, though concern was knitting her brow.

Lucifer listened quietly. There was an undeniable pull toward Alastor, a desire to unravel the mystery he presented.But uncertainty lingered as well, like the shadows cast by the embers floating from the logs burning low in the hearth.

"He's been through a lot," Charlie's voice broke through his thoughts, tender and resolute. Her gaze was fixed on the fireplace, but her words were directed at Vaggie. "He misses his mother. And he never mentions his dad. It's been almost a year since she passed."

Lucifer felt a tug at his heartstrings. He knew what it was like to be lonely. He’d felt rudderless since his divorce, drifting on the open ocean—most times, he felt like he was fighting just to tread water. Looking for anything to anchor to.

"That makes sense, I guess," Vaggie murmured, her brow furrowing with concern.

Charlie nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah. He’s a sweet guy, deep down, just a bit…aloof."

Vaggie shot her girlfriend a look, but Lucifer

"Poor guy," Lucifer said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "I should—" He hesitated. "—go finish cleaning up after dinner," he finally decided, rising from his seat. It was easier to focus on tasks, to keep his hands busy while his mind wandered.

“Charlie,” Vaggie said, just barely loud enough to be heard over the baking show contestants panicking about their ovens. “Are you sure it was a good idea to bring him here?”

"I’m pretty sure,” Charlie said brightly, her eyes still on the screen—like she was hiding something. "I think Dad and Alastor might have more in common than you think."

“What?” Vaggie blanched.

"Just…they’re both kind of old souls, you know." Charlie shrugged, a knowing smile playing on her lips that she was failing to hide. "Sometimes, those kinds of people connect on a different level."

"Charlie," Vaggie interjected skeptically, her arms crossed over her chest. "Is that really a good idea."

"I know Alastor better than you do, Vaggie. Trust me on this."

"Sure," Vaggie replied, though doubt lingered in her tone. "If you say so."

🍂🍁🍃

The chalet was silent, save for the quiet padding of Lucifer’s bare feet on the cool wooden floor. Shadows danced across the walls as he slipped into the kitchen, the moonlight filtering through the large window and casting an ethereal glow over the room.

 The oversized sweater he wore hung loosely, its stretched neck drooping off one shoulder, baring the ridge of his collarbone to the cool air. And his duckie pajama bottoms hung loosely from his hips.

Lucifer let out a sigh, and leaned against the counter for a moment, letting the stillness envelop him. 

Insomnia had become his only bedfellow these days. And tonight, he was being lured back into the kitchen by the promise of a snack—something sweet but that he could pretend was still healthy.

His gaze fell upon the bowl of green apples he had picked up from a market. Nice and tart, and would go perfectly with the jar of local honey sitting invitingly on the counter.

 A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he reached for a cutting board and knife, setting about slicing the apples with methodical precision. Each thin slice landed in the bowl with a soft thud, and Lucifer’s mind settled into the repetitive motions and sounds.

Lucifer drizzled a generous amount of honey over the top. He watched as it pooled around the edges and seeped into the spaces between the slices.

For these few moments, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the quiet comfort of apples and honey in the dimly lit kitchen.

With the bowl of apple slices balanced in one hand, Lucifer stepped up onto a small wooden stool and hoisted himself onto the cool marble surface of the kitchen island. He let his legs dangle over the edge. 

His gaze was drawn to the large picture window that dominated the far wall. Outside, the night was alive with movement. 

The wind sent leaves skittering across the ground, twisting them into a chaotic dance. Beyond, in the inky darkness, thick clusters of snowflakes began swirling lazily before pressing against the glass and falling away. 

There had been whispers of a storm earlier in the week, but he'd dismissed them, thinking it was still too early for a proper snowfall.

The thought of being snowed in with his daughter and her girlfriend brought a smile to his lips.  A chance to huddle together by the fire, sharing stories and laughter. But the smile faltered as another realization crept in—Alastor would be stuck here too..

"Hello, Mr. Morningstar." The voice was smooth and rich, like velvet draped over a midnight sky.

 The sound of it sent a jolt through Lucifer, startling him from his thoughts. He nearly dropped the bowl as he twisted around, like thinking his damn name had summoned him. 

There stood Alastor, as real as the snowflakes that continued to fall outside. His presence filled the doorway, clad in pajamas of a lurid red satin that caught the light with every subtle shift. 

Lucifer's heart gave an errant thump, a guilty awareness settling in his chest.

"Hey, Alastor," Lucifer managed, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in his throat. 

The younger man's unexpected appearance left him grappling against emotions he couldn't name or tame.

Lucifer cleared his throat, the sound rough and awkward in the kitchen's quiet. He could feel the sticky sweetness of apple and honey clinging to his tongue.

"You know, you don’t have to call me that." he forced a semblance of nonchalance into his tone.

"Yes, sir," Alastor replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, stepping further into the room. 

Lucifer shifted on the counter, trying to focus on anything other than the allure of Alastor's presence. 

"What’s got you up at this hour?" he asked, aiming for casual curiosity, but knowing it probably fell short.

"Couldn't sleep," Alastor said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be wandering around someone else's kitchen at midnight.

"Ah well," Lucifer nodded, hesitating for a moment before offering, " Can I get you anything?"

Alastor's hazel eyes glinted with amusement, a mischievous smirk playing at the edges of his lips, as if he had just been handed an opportunity too delicious to pass up. 

"To eat," Lucifer clarified hurriedly. "Can I fix you anything to eat?" He steered back to safer ground.

Alastor leaned casually against the opposite counter, his long fingers splayed out across the surface–he should play the piano, Lucifer thought, distractedly. 

The kitchen was spacious enough to keep so distance between them, but even so, Alastor's presence seemed to reach across the tiled floor, making Lucifer's skin tingle.

"Well," Alastor drawled, his tone dripping with suggestion, "I must say, I like what you've been offering so far."

Lucifer fought the urge to roll his eyes. He lifted the small bowl toward the younger man. "I'm having apples and honey," he announced, plucking a thin slice for himself, feeling the crispness break beneath his teeth.

Alastor’s eyes glinted in the low light as he took a slow, deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them. 

“I’m not really one for sweets,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, “except on special occasions.”

Lucifer watched, spellbound, as Alastor moved closer still, until he was within arm's reach. The younger man’s gaze dropped briefly to Lucifer’s mouth before returning to his eyes, the suggestion unmistakable.

Then, with a gentle but assertive grip, Alastor wrapped his fingers around Lucifer’s wrist.

 The contact sent an unexpected jolt up Lucifer’s arm, his pulse quickening in response. He barely had time to process before Alastor brought Lucifer’s hand to his own lips, slowly taking the apple slice from his fingers with a playful nip.

"Look, kid," Lucifer started, the words escaping him more breathlessly than intended, "You don’t know what tree you’re barking up here. "

Alastor chuckled softly, pushing the bowl in Lucifer’s hand aside as he leaned forward, his hands finding purchase on the counter on either side of the blonde’s knees. The move was deliberate, enclosing Lucifer in a space that felt suddenly intimate. 

“I’ve been of age for years, you know” Alastor assured him, his tone a blend of amusement and something darker. “And I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure even as the heat of Alastor’s proximity made his skin prickle and his thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

Alastor's weight was a palpable presence against Lucifer's legs, the counter beneath him suddenly feeling like a precarious perch. 

The young man's hands remained planted on either side of him, as if to emphasize the space he was claiming.

"Alright," Lucifer said, his voice low as he conceded. "You're not a teenager, sure, but you don't know who you're trying to flirt with." His eyes flickered over Alastor's shoulder, seeking a distraction in the darkness beyond the window, even as he felt the heat creeping up his neck. "I mean, I get you're a horny college kid and all, but just think about it."

The snort that escaped Alastor was rich with amusement. It tugged at the corners of Lucifer's mouth despite himself, though he fought to keep his composure.

"But I'm Charlie's dad," he added, the words carrying an undercurrent of warning. 

 Alastor leaned further into him, pressing softly, insistently, until Lucifer’s knees began to yield to the pressure.

"Yes, Charlie's single dad," Alastor replied smoothly, his voice warm and teasing as he continued to focus only on Lucifer. "Who keeps looking at me like I'm going to eat him."

Lucifer could feel the flush spreading from his cheeks to his ears, betraying him—he and Charlie had that in common–no damn poker face.

He turned his head slightly, breaking eye contact under the pretense of watching the snowflakes gathering outside—anything to avoid the intensity of Alastor's gaze that saw right through him.

Alastor's presence loomed closer, the air between them charged with an electric tension that hummed through Lucifer's veins. Alastor’s hands remained planted on the counter, framing Lucifer in a way that made escape feel both possible and pointless.

"Which," Alastor murmured, his voice a low, sultry purr that seemed to wrap around Lucifer’s senses, "I am happy to oblige…if you ask nicely."

The boldness of the words struck Lucifer like a physical force.His breath hitched, too loud in the stillness of the kitchen.

In that moment of hesitation, the resistance in Lucifer's legs faltered, and he found himself yielding to Alastor’s body moving between his thighs. The heat of the younger’s proximity seeped through the fabric of Lucifer's pajama bottoms, igniting his skin beneath the oversized sweater.

A soft chuckle escaped from Alastor, rich with triumph, as though he could sense the internal war waging within Lucifer—a battle already half-lost before it began.

Lucifer's hand trembled slightly as he pushed the bowl of apples into Alastor's chest, a feeble attempt to create a little distance between them.  A honeyed apple slice found its way into his mouth, the sweetness a distraction from the heat pooling low in his stomach.

"I’m too old for this shit," he muttered, the words barely coherent as they slipped past his lips.

The reprieve was short-lived. 

Alastor moved with feline grace, reaching past the bowl. Fingers brushed against Lucifer’s skin lightly, then cupped his chin and coax his face back toward the younger man.

"You aren't too old to be sweet for me, are you?" Alastor purred, his voice smooth like molten caramel.

Lucifer's mind blanked, the apple halted mid-chew as he blinked at Alastor.

The world beyond the kitchen faded into irrelevance, leaving Lucifer ensnared by the bewitching pull of Alastor’s gaze and the promise that lingered there.

Lucifer’s breath caught as Alastor hummed, a low sound of approval that vibrated through the air between them. The younger man leaned in, his eyes locked onto the slice of apple still perched on Lucifer's lips.

Alastor's mouth brushed against Lucifer's with a shock of warmth, the contact fleeting yet electrifying. In one swift motion, he bit through the apple slice. Their lips touched—just barely,  tantalizing—and then it was over, leaving Lucifer craving more.

Honey dripped from the corner of Lucifer's mouth, a golden trail tracing down his skin.

Alastor’s eyes followed its descent, watching intently as it slipped beneath the stretched neckline of Lucifer’s sweater.

Alastor tilted Lucifer’s head back. Then, deliberately and with a measured grace, he lowered his head, following the sticky trail with the tip of his tongue.

 The heat of Alastor’s mouth contrasted with the cool night air, igniting sparks that danced along his nerves.

Lucifer's breath hitched, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to regain composure. The unexpected intimacy of Alastor’s tongue tracing the honey along his neck left him reeling.

"You…you said you didn’t like sweets."

Alastor's lips curved into a smirk against Lucifer’s skin, the vibration of his words sending shivers down Lucifer's spine

. “I do prefer giving bites over kisses,” Alastor murmured, his voice a silky caress. “But I’m willing to make an exception... if you ask nicely.”

The air was thick with a heavy tension that pressed in on all sides. Lucifer’s mind raced, battling against the flood of desire threatening to pull him under. They shouldn’t be doing this—he knew it. 

Alastor was so close now, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. Lucifer could feel the warmth radiating from him, could see the promise in those hazel eyes.

Alastor was a force of nature that Lucifer found himself unable—or unwilling—to resist.

At that moment, Lucifer yearned to just give in. Let this man consume him, completely. 

"Please..." The word slipped from his lips. A surrender, and there would be no going back.

Alastor pulled him in at once, until their lips collided. It was the kind of kiss that wanted to unravel him, dissolving the walls of solitude and heartache.

The brunette was unrelenting, leaving Lucifer breathless.

Their mouths danced together, tasting sweet and tart.. Alastor took his time, teasingly plucking the forgotten slice of apple from Lucifer’s lips.

Lucifer surrendered, letting himself be swept away by the sensation of being thoroughly, deliciously dominated. Given over entirely to Alastor’s whims.

As the kiss broke,  Lucifer instinctively reached out, fingers wanting to curl into the silken fabric of Alastor's red satin pajama top. But Alastor leaned back slightly and tutted softly, amusement lacing his voice.

"Ah-ah," Alastor chided gently, a playful smirk curving his lips. "You will not get my clothes sticky."

Chastened, Lucifer withdrew his hands. Honey still clung to his fingertips.Instead he curled them on his thighs, falling into the familiar role of a practiced submissive—one he hadn’t embraced in a damn long time.

"Good boy," Alastor murmured, his voice low and smooth.

Leaving the blonde fluttering with the praise.

Alastor's fingers danced lightly along Lucifer's jaw, a touch both gentle and possessive. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Lucifer's ear as he asked softly, "Can I bite you?"

"Yes," He swallowed hard, the remnants of honey sweet on his lips as he nodded, daring to trust Alastor. "Just... nowhere, it'll show."

"Of course," Alastor agreed smoothly, his tone carrying a promise that was both reassuring and thrilling. His hands were confident as they settled on either side of Lucifer's neck, guiding him with an insistent but tender pressure.

Lucifer allowed himself to be maneuvered, tilting his head obediently as Alastor exposed the bare curve of his shoulder where the oversized sweater had slipped away. 

"Say ‘red’ if you want me to stop," Alastor instructed, his voice steady and calm, eyes meeting Lucifer’s.

"Yellow means slow down." Lucifer replied, heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. The familiarity of those words brought a sense of comfort, grounding him.

"Good," Alastor chuckled. “I thought I would have to teach you the rules.”

Lucifer could feel Alastor's approval like a physical caress, knowing that in this moment, he was safe, understood, and about to be marked in a way he craved.

Alastor's lips moved with deliberate slowness, tracing a path down Lucifer's neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Each kiss seemed to linger longer than the last, as if savoring the taste of skin beneath them. Lucifer's pulse quickened, his breath catching as anticipation coiled tightly within him.

When Alastor reached the crook of his shoulder, he paused, lips hovering above the exposed flesh. Then, he latched onto the skin, drawing it into his mouth. 

A gasp escaped Lucifer's lips as Alastor increased the pressure gradually, teeth grazing his shoulder until they slowly sank in.

Alastor knew precisely how to apply force without crossing into discomfort, maintaining a delicate balance that made Lucifer's head spin.

But then, the pressure intensified, skirting the edge of pain. It was sharp, demanding acknowledgement. But Lucifer let himself be pushed further, wanting more, until he thought his skin might break. 

 "Yellow," Lucifer gasped, voice straining.

Instantly, Alastor eased off the bite.

The relief was immediate, and the lingering sting felt tingling and pleasant as Alastor's tongue swept over the imprint of his teeth. He lavished attention on the tender area.

Lucifer moaned softly, the sound involuntary as Alastor's lips continued their ministrations, easing pain back into pleasure. That simple act of care left him feeling cherished as the mark colored his pale skin.

Lucifer's breath came in ragged bursts as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Alastor's with an intensity that mirrored the chaos in his chest.

His lips sought Alastor's again, a desperate connection fueled by the heat still simmering beneath his skin. The kiss was fervent, almost bruising in its urgency, and when they broke apart, Lucifer's whispered words filled the space between them.

"Fuck, I thought you were going to draw blood."

Alastor's laughter was a low, rumbling sound . "I don’t bite to cause harm," he assured, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Just to mark what’s mine."

The declaration wrapped around Lucifer like a silken thread; the sensation left him feeling exposed, and alive.

"Can I touch you?" Alastor's question was a soft murmur against his ear, each syllable enunciating a promise that made Lucifer's pulse quicken.

"Yes," the blonde breathed out, the single word filled with anticipation

"Good," Alastor hummed, a note of satisfaction lacing his tone. He paused those fingers curled on Lucifer’s inner thigh, a deliberate moment that held its own kind of tension. "If I touch you, I'm going to want to get my mouth on you. Not to bite, but to taste you. Is that alright?"

"Please," Lucifer repeated, the plea escaping him without hesitation.

Fingers fumbled with the waistband of his duckie pajamas. Why couldn’t he have worn something that was at least a little sexy? As if he could have known  he was going to be hooking up in his kitchen.

His hands felt clumsy and uncertain now.

Alastor watched him with a smirk that was both knowing and indulgent, the heat in his gaze searing through the dim light of the kitchen.

The blonde finally managing to shove the fabric down his thighs. He shifted awkwardly, trying not to focus on how exposed he felt, or how much he craved the younger man's attention. Alastor's eyes never left his, holding him captive with their unspoken promises.

"Relax," Alastor murmured, dipping his finger into the jar of honey nearby. The movement was fluid, almost hypnotic, as he coated the digit in the golden syrup.

 Then, with deliberate slowness, he dragged it along the length of Lucifer's aching cock.

Lucifer bit back a moan, his body tensing with anticipation, every nerve alight.

"How sweet," Alastor purred. He leaned in, his breath warm against Lucifer's skin, before his tongue flicked out to lap at the honey-coated length. The gentleness of Alastor's sharp teeth sent a shudder through Lucifer, the edge of danger driving him wild. .

"Fuck," Lucifer breathed. 

He squirmed under Alastor's ministrations, feeling like a damn teenager getting his first blowjob. 

 The urge to touch, to cling to Alastor and ground himself, was overwhelming. His hands clenched into fists on his thighs. .

"Easy," Alastor soothed, wrapping his hand around Lucifer's cock with a leisurely stroke that was both personal and possessive. "You do not have permission to come down my throat."

The words were a command wrapped in velvet, a reminder of the control Alastor had over him.

Lucifer nodded, swallowing hard.

Alastor's mouth enveloped him once more. He couldn't help the whine that escaped his lips, a sound of pure want that echoed in the quiet kitchen.

"Take off your sweater," Alastor commanded, pulling back slightly, his voice rough with desire. 

Lucifer hesitated, his fingers twitching towards the hem of his oversized top. The fabric hung comfortably but beneath it….he knew  had the body of a divorced dad. Even if he’d only seen Alastor covered from neck to wrist to ankle, he knew the younger man was slender and fit.

Lucifer was not. He was almost middle aged and his muscle was hidden under softness, from stress and snacking and stressing over snacking.

He’d hesitated long enough for Alastor to notice.

Those keen hazel eyes softened, understanding without judgment. "Then you'll just have to wash clothes," Alastor murmured, his tone gentle yet unyielding. His hand continued its purposeful rhythm, stroking Lucifer with a practiced grace that left no room for doubt or insecurity.

Lucifer nodded, swallowing his apprehension, surrendering to the moment. Alastor's words were a balm, soothing his frazzled nerves as he gave in to the younger man's control.

With each deliberate stroke, tension coiled tighter in Lucifer's core until it snapped, spilling come over the younger’s fist. His sweater bore the brunt of it, as Alastor watched with a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"Good boy," Alastor praised, the words a whisper that sent warmth flooding through Lucifer.

Lucifer was left a panting mess, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he leaned back against the cool surface of the kitchen counter.

The world around him seemed to blur. It had been so long since anyone else had gotten him off, and even though it was just a hand job, it left him reeling.

He could feel the warm stickiness of his come trailing down from his chin, marking his sweater as evidence of their encounter.

Alastor tipped his head back, and  Lucifer's eyes fluttered open, meeting the younger man's hazel gaze that sparkled.

"Let me," Alastor murmured, voice rich and inviting. His tongue traced a languid path up his throat, collecting Lucifer’s come.

It shocked him that Alastor would even want to taste him. He barely registered the taste of himself on Alastor's lips before the younger man kissed him, lingering and turning tender, like Alastor knew, to ease him down.

 And Lucifer’s wits were coming back to him. Already thinking of how he would return the favor. 

Kitchen tile probably wasn’t going to be the best thing for his knees. And Lucifer hadn’t blown anyone in years, but it shouldn’t be too hard—not to get off a worked up college kid.

Just as resolve solidified in his mind, Alastor pulled away suddenly, leaving Lucifer blinking in surprise. A knowing smile playing on the younger’s lips.

 "Thanks for the snack," he said, voice smooth as velvet, a teasing lilt in his words. He turned to leave, languid and unhurried, dripping with an irritating amount of confidence.

Lucifer blinked, his bare ass still on his kitchen counter, the chill grounding him to the granite.

"Wait," the blonde blurted, his voice husky and uncertain. He shifted slightly, the oversized sweater slipping further down one shoulder. "Don't you…want me to do something for you?"

Alastor paused, tilting his head just enough to glance back over his shoulder, with a soft chuckle in the quiet kitchen. .

"I'm quite satisfied actually," Alastor hummed, casually waving off the suggestion. "Goodnight, Mr. Morningstar."

And with that, Alastor sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving Lucifer alone and a sticky mess.

The oversized sweater clung to him in places, sticky with traces of honey and the aftermath of He shifted slightly, wincing as the coolness of the counter reminded him of his current state of undress. His mind replayed the scene over and over, each repetition only deepening the gnawing inside him.

He’d eaten, and more, and yet...he was starving. 

For a moment, Lucifer considered following Alastor, demanding an explanation or an encore. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came, leaving him with nothing but an empty ache and the soft patter of snow against the windowpane.

With a sigh, he reached for the discarded bowl of apples and honey, knowing they wouldn’t be nearly enough. 

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