#alastor prompts

[rius-cave]

Right in front of his salad :/

[spacebubblehomebase]

Right on time to celebrate the Hazbin Hotel season 3 & 4 announcement!!! I asked for some wholesome doodle prompts from folks on Twitter! I also got "solving puzzles" as a part of the suggestions! Notice the pieces that no longer fit. 🥲 Well, this was fun! Now I'm wondering if I should do the same for Tumblr next time? 😊 For now, pls enjoy the bonding of (current, past, & future) residents of the hotel being super adorable together as I disappear into the void. C'ya!

-Bubbly💙

[atinymexicanbird]

Radioapple Valentine's Week 2025 by @/winterveritas 💖✨️

Day 6: Slow Dancing/ Showing Off

[sunlit-mess]

And I couldn't look away from the angel on the stage

[dirtgrubber]

part 1 of day 6/7: letting go/ reunited/ new in hell/ in disguise (i combined all the prompts for these last days)

[morningstarwrites]

Hazbin Spring Week Day 7: teatime 🫖 something about tea always makes me think about alice in wonderland! so here's them gossiping lol

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]

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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]

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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.

No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.��� Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.

Even if he already is aware of it…

Angel’s teasing doesn���t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.

Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.

It doesn’t last forever though.

Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.

It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.

The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.

Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.

His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.

Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.

He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.

Enough is enough.

Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.

He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.

Unruly luck….maybe?

Fate, possibly?

He’ll figure it out one way or another.

“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….

The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.

How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”

Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…

Odd…

He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.

He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.

Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..

Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.

A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.

He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.

Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.

If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”

You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.

“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.

Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…

“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…

You brought them out of him without even trying.

Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.

Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.

They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.

When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?

All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.

Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.

He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.

How sweet you’d taste?

How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?

How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?

He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…

Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.

Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?

He’s here for a reason, right?

Why grant you more agency than required?

“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.

Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.

Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.

How fortunate…

Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.

Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.

“….please don’t stop..”

“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”

Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.

Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…

“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.

The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.

Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.

Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.

Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.

Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.

“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.

It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…

You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.

It’d be pure entertainment.

However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?

By his mere presence even.

The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.

The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.

Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.

“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.

Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.

The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.

It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.

He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.

You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.

It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.

“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”

You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”

“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”

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My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤

[duckie-deer-prompts]

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 23: Breeding

Summary: Alastor hates October, postively abhors it due to his more...animalistic inclinations. Luckily for him, you just so happen to be near by and smell divine. Warnings: P in V sex, breeding kink, ruts, possesive, ownership, marking, cum, reader has a vagina, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @kewpikayo GO CHECK THEM OUT!!! Love you my kew!

It’s the middle of October. Skeletons and cobwebs line the walls, orange and black posters of all kinds hang from balcony’s, and Charlie’s excitement over the possible bond through the upcoming holiday was unmatched. All the resident’s of the Hazbin Hotel, despite some occasional hesitence, join in on the festive spirit. Except for Alastor. Even a creature as powerful as he could not escape the cycles of instinct. Alastor found himself in an uncomfortable predicament during this supposed festive month: he was in rut, a state that left him feeling restless and agitated.

Hiding away in his lavish room, adorned with vintage radio equipment and eerie memorabilia, he tried to ignore the urge that pulled at him. His usual confidence was replaced with a sense of vulnerability, and he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone discovering him in such a state. This time of month had always been a chore, normally he could try to wait it out. Hiding himself away till it passes and it normally does. But not this time. His cock strained against his trousers, that familar uncomfy feeling settling in his belly. No amount of smooth, languid strokes can bring him any ease and he’s been at this for hours. 

Sweat peripherated his brow, his jacket long discarded in favor for his simple white button up, sleeves cuffed at the elbow. The world was unbearably hot. He had always relished his independence, his power over others, but now, he felt trapped within his own skin. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed something, someone to sink into. To rake his teeth over the soft supple flesh of their neck, pump his cock in and out of tight velvetly walls till he came undone and sat knotted within them till his seed took. Such thoughts flooded his mind, till he finally decided to give into his baser inclinations and hump a nearby pillow in erotic and pure desperation. 

With each press into the fabric, precum weeped from his angry tip to no avail. It was not the same, would never be the same. With each passing of an orgasm, rushed and heated, his cock only stood at more attention and ached with need. Nothing could satite the desire that filled his entire being, mind whirring with one and one thought only: breed. He wanted a mate, needed one.

A rapture of knocks at his door were the only thing that broke him from his ruminations. 

“Alastor? It’s me, Y/N. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of silence before Alastor’s voice filtered through the door, strained yet familiar. “One moment, my dear.”

That one sentence had sealed his whole fate, leading him to where he was presently. He had let you in, opened the door to view your bright and smiling face beaming up at him with a curious desire to help. Of course you had noticed he was missing, you always did. Following him around like a stray puppy since the begining of your stay at the hotel. At first, he had found your presence bothersome, an nusiance to his daily musings and whims. But when you had one day asked him so sweetly to show off his records and radio tower, in total awe of his power, he could not help but fall for your antics. Never failing to see some strand of good in him, every request was a command you followed though he did not own your soul. You were his to protect, to cherish, and now as you stood before him, to mate. 

You had held your hand to his brow, taking his temperature when you noticed his paled state. You smelled so sweet and his inhale was nothing short of sickening as he brought his nose to your hand. Coming kiss your palm as his own brought your hand to his lips. Oh, how soft your skin was against his chapped lips. Like fresh rose petals in spring. From that point on, he could not stop himself. Bringing his lips down your forearm, up to your shoulder, the valleys of your neck. With each kiss and nip, your body shook with shock and anticpiation. His teeth grazed the crevice of your collarbone, leaving a small mark in its wake that drove him wild. You were his, all his.

And now, here you lie. Dark marks marring your once soft and clean skin with the clearest sign of his possesiveness, his ownership. Laid bare before his hungry eyes and desires, his cock came to be inside you with one thrust; your cunt wet and ready for him like it was made for this purpose. Conceptually, rationally, by all means of logic, Alastor knew it would never work. Except, in this very moment, cock pounding into your wet and inviting cunt, he couldn’t help but pray to whatever power was listening that his seed would take. That you would grow warm and full with his child, glowing and basking in the obvious sign of his claim over you. 

Growling, his voice passed huskily through your ears. “Gonna be such a good mate for me….going to be so round and perfect full of me darling—“ Alastor’s words were not his own, his body and mind completely consumed by his arousal and need. Not that you minded, despite being confused as to where this suddent attention was coming from. You had always found Alastor attractive and now to see him so feral only added to the slick that pooled out of your puffy pussy. 

Alastor’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his thrusts becoming short and sloppy as his release fast approached. Soft grunts left his lips and with one final stroke, spilled hot ropes of cum into you. His cock head swelled into knot, the added weight and size barrelling you into your own release. Alastor then collapsed, chest pressing on top of you as his cock twitched, the amount of his release too great for your body to hold; marveling as it spilled past his member and out your greedy hole. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with pleaasure. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged you in on the bed; pushing his cum back into you as he drew himself ontop of you overstimulated body. His eyes flashed a dangerous shade of black, his signature smirk now coming to form a dark and possesive sneer. 

“Now we wait my dear…and I will wait as long as it need for it to take.”

[turtleofthehollow]

We’ve got Lucifer, a bumbling cringe factory of glorious proportions, and we have the ace icon Alastor, who is so ace he doesn’t even know what asexuality is, and all I can think about is how they’d both accidentally say things that sound like flirting

Just imagine Alastor - the cannibal - threatening to eat Lucifer, only to unintentionally make it sound suggestive

And Lucifer being the idiot he is doesn’t pick up on it, and just responds in kind, and everyone else is looking at them with horror and confusion

“Are they gonna kill each other, or are they gonna fuck??”

[datchidatchi]

[Day 1: Collars and Chains]

Lapcat

[detectivestrawberrymilkshake]

Day 5 of radioapple week, the prompt was Domestic/Demon

[sunlit-mess]

D1: ' Enjoying yourself? ' ' Most definitely. '

[jyoongim]

Prompt #2: number 6, one sitting in another's lap in minimal space blushing like crazy but spicy? 👀

Alastor ofc I love how you write him 🙏🏽

Make sure to stay hydrated and eat plenty <33

Also can I be 🌙🦋 anon?

Hello 🌙🦋!

Themes: cockwarming, orgasm, clit play

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You tried your best to remain still. Your cheeks were warm from blushing as you sat on Alastor’s lap.

Charlie had insisted on everyone being in attendance for movie night. 

‘Movies are a great way to bond! You can learn a lot from someone based on how they comment on them’ she had said.

But space was limited as Angel’s long limbs had you pushed into Alastor’s lap.

The Overlord didn’t make a sound of rebuttal, instead he made himself more comfortable, settling his hands on your hips. The movie wasn’t that bad, but it sure was long.

You were fine at first, but you were starting to get stiff and shift about.

Alastor’s eyes watched as you tried not to squirm, not wanting to bring him discomfort as you already felt you were doing so.

Your plump ass shifted on his crotch, making him huff as he grew aroused. “Easy dear” he whispered in your ear, hands tightening on your hips to still you. 

You went rigid when you felt the lump underneath your ass. You desperately wanted to apologize.

You shifted again, to at least ease the pressure, but that only made the deer nip at your shoulder in warning.

You subconsciously grinned your ass into him, your clothed cunt dragging along the length of his cock. Alastor sighed and placed a blanket over the two of you, covering your bottom halves.

You felt a slight tingle over your thighs, Alastor shifted and you had to bite your lip when you felt his cock sink into you.

You peered at him over your shoulder and he smiled at you, relaxing against the couch.

“enjoying the movie?” He asked, spreading his legs and dipping a hand between your thighs. Cold fingers grazed your clit, making you take a deep breath “y-yea its-its okay”

The two of you stayed like that.

Until Alastor started drawing lazy circles on your clit. Your cunt fluttered and you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your eyes darted around to see if anyone noticed, hell if Angel noticed, but everyone was into the movie that was playing.

Alastor worked your clit until your back tensed, your orgasm buzzing through your body, milking his cock.

You fell against his chest, chest heaving as you tried to slow your breaths. He chuckled in your ear lowly.

”You can give me one more can’t you? There’s thirty more minutes left and we haven’t even gotten to the climax”

Oh sweet satan!

[shadebloopnik]

Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.

Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.

Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.

He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-

So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.

It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.

He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.

Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.

But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.

So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.

Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."

Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.

What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????

"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.

But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.

"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."

Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.

Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.

"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"

Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.

Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??

(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)

Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.

"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."

He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.

So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.

Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.

But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.

Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.

Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.

They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.

As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.

[clownimal]

Inktober Day 7: Restless