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@lilithisms ; ' lucifer , i want a truthful opinion from you. ' the queen snuck behind him , gently touching his shoulder , ' it’s about charlie. do you truly think that the hotel that she has been working on will do more harm than good ? that it’ll actually. . . work ? ' - @lilithisms
unprompted asks ━ always accepting.
a truthful answer ━ even if it isn't what lilith would want to hear ? he has his doubts, though he knows she asks from a place of care.
dark brows knit and crease the white canvas they lay upon as he takes his time to mull over her questions. to try and put his cynicism aside, ( so easily able to consume him whole, ) and allow himself to believe there is a chance ; even if it is small, nigh impossible. pink pinstripes rise and fall with a lengthy uptake of air, and one of his gloved claws reaches to cradle overtop the hand occupying his shoulder.
❝ those are two very different questions, my love ━ and i am not so sure they are the right ones to be asking. ❞
lucifer's tone remains gentle, a subtle somber edge in his words. he cannot know for sure what would become of such an unlikely victory ━ whether the accomplishment would be a breakthrough for relations between realms, or whether heaven would deem it a new threat entirely ━ neither of them can. considering their holy neighbor's current stance, though. . . no matter how badly they may want to ensure their daughter's dream, lucifer wants to prioritize her safety first. no ━ needs to.
still a bit of a helicopter parent, even in his later years.
❝ charlie's a bright girl, but she's still very. . . young. i just don't think she really understands what she's getting herself into. if the hotel works ━ and that's a big if ━ . . . it won't matter. they won't let it. ❞
a vision of golden spears raining down from the heavens, a flood of red so vast that even the clouds above the pentagram would no doubt become a shade darker. golden tresses drape over his arms, blond curls tainted with a metallic stench, blood soaking into the devil's knees, and his daughter ━ her frame in his hold, heavier and more devoid of her light than it has ever been.
their verbal agreement of peace is so fragile already. he cannot bear the thought.
lucifer's hold tightens, squeezing lilith's hand within his own as if he is afraid to slip away entirely. his volume lowers, throat clenching dry with sudden distress,
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GUESS WHO WATCHED WICKED AND LOVED IT ✋✋✋ yall I had to crawl out of my finals and create this cuz the song “what is this feeling” gives me SUCH AL AND LUCI BICKERING VIBES RAAAHHHHH no one can convince me otherwise. ALSO musical in another musical is such a win 😩😼🧙♀️👹😈
⨻// I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel / It's all that I can give to you, my dear / I will only break your pretty things / I will only wring you dry of everything //⨻
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RADIOIACI ; an independent, non-exclusive, and canon-divergent roleplay blog for ALASTOR of HAZBIN HOTEL . dark themes such as gore, violence, and abuse . 18+ . est feb 2024 . penned by Pascall (they/them | 33 ) . ABOUT . RULES .
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' O-oh! I didn't realize it was lucifer himself, here i brought you something hot to drink, a lot of people need to stay warm.' Millie said as she sat down, offering him the tray of hot beverages.
lucifer, despite being king, does not often converse with his subjects ━ which would make him a bad one, probably. he knows that. so what better way to remedy his absence than to throw himself in the mix, among imps ? short enough to blend in, ( though he wouldn't like to admit it in this context, ) he sits down with only a few baffled looks thrown his way.
the imp who comes up to him is greeted with a smile, and lucifer reaches to hover his hand indecisively over the tray, before picking what he assumes to be some sort of hot cocoa. after a brief sip,
❝ ho, that is ha-bit warm ! uh ━ thank you. ❞
while he does not need the warmth ( as a fire-breathing furnace, ) the taste of something sweet is quite soothing.
❝ are you handing these out to everyone by yourself ? ❞
@ducktastic-dad ⧐ [ TRAIL ]: sender leaves a trail of kisses down receivers stomach.
NSFW ASKS.
The lack of truly sleepless nights when in Lucifer's presence are something of a hindrance, the more time Alastor spends in the presence of the Devil. Too many evenings where he has plans - dashed entirely by the beckoning of claws - into one room or the other. It doesn't truly matter, though Alastor does appreciate that Lucifer's has windows out of which to peer at the skyline, if he so pleases.
And that is where he is, one particular dawn as he lazes, deep in sleep until the sounds of Lucifer's stirring in the bed next to him forces him into some sort of pseudo-consciousness where he is awake but not fully. He can parse that there are hands on him, at some point, though Alastor has not deigned to open his eyes, accustomed to Lucifer's shuffling about within the blankets from night to morning, while he sleeps alongside as still as a corpse.
At some point, it is not only hands that he detects, but something else entirely.
Some soft, gentle, feather-light touch that feels familiar and warm. Placed on his face, his throat, his shoulder. All up and along his upper body where he begins to drift slightly more into wakefulness, eyes opening slightly as he catches a hazy glimpse of Lucifer filling his vision. The Devil does not look up from his apparent mission - pressing small, tender kisses over his fur and scars. As he tends to do, from time to time. Alastor does not think much of it except to give a gentle hum of appreciation. Lucifer does tend to be more affectionate when they are still somewhat in the embrace of sleep recovery.
But that is not where the king's journey seems to stop. It trails lower, coasting gently over parts of Alastor's torso that do not often see that sort of slow, steady appreciation. To his biceps and lower arms, over to his chest and downwards - over the small peaks that hide beneath his fur and are a moderately kept secret, at least in present company (though Alastor is sure Lucifer would like to confirm his suspicions about them at some point).
From the attention, Alastor stirs lightly, his eyes opening further, the more Lucifer explores with that soft, warm mouth. An exhale escapes him - one that says he is becoming more and more aware as the time passes, that he is simply being bathed in a certain brand of affection that he cannot escape until Lucifer is done.
It is ever so difficult, however, when the Devil's mouth begins to press over the plane of his stomach and ever persistently over sensitive areas - purposefully dragging out the contact of that mouth from which Alastor can detect the slightest use of tongue and teeth over his body. A warmer breath leaves him at that, realizing that this is taking a distinctly different turn, face blooming slightly with redness as he glances down at the other, one of his hands drifting down to sneak claws into his messy duck-tail which falls beautifully into his face whenever it has not been properly styled.
"...If you wanted me to be awake," he finally says in a throaty murmur, with full knowledge that the longer Lucifer lingers down against his lower half, the more likely it is that something else will be awoken as a result. "-then you are doing an excellent job."
Don't stop, his deep red gaze says, eyeing Lucifer as though there is no better view in all of the Pentagram. And as Devil continues his silent journey of mouth over flesh, Alastor's head tips back against the pillows.
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@ducktastic-dad sent " how can you have so much hope? "
she felt lightly offended by his question, eyebrows furrowing as if she were to defend her own childish hope with her life, but... all charlie could do was cross her arms, looking away swiftly as her eyes gazed to the ground, feeling that air between them tighten around her like smoke. it was a suffocating feeling.
all she could do was think, thinkthinkthink about everything he's ever said to her, all those questions he had for her-- only to spill out a question back in return, vemon in her tone.
that look is unexpected, her words more so. they cut far too deep. he is not entirely aware of the condescension in his tone when he tries to correct her, briefly,
❝ oh ━ no, honey, that's not what i ━ ❞
jaws snap shut, attempting to bar himself from digging the grave of their fragile kinship so soon. ( already ? has he fucked it up already ?? ) a few simple words have proven deadly effective.
charlie is not wrong to question him, not when lucifer himself has told her how he feels about. . . everything, that she's doing. and all things considered, it is a wonder how she has kept her head above the tidal wave of doubt thus far, ever-consuming in a ring wrought with oppression ; even god's greatest dreamer has sunk under its pressure. he was asking her literally ━ how ?
perhaps he should have considered her feelings first. and perhaps also his phrasing.
the tension in lucifer's posture relaxes everywhere but his hands, occupying the apple of his cane. claws flex their grip, and the panicked edge in his voice eases, rounds into something soft. some attempt at being genuine.
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