#*catchall

[ofhell]

@diistortion sacrificed: ❛ you’re avoiding the subject and you know it. what are you hiding from me? ❜

While this conversation is long overdue, Lucifer can’t help the dread creeping inwards at the mere thought of revealing himself; for years their companionship has worked this way: phone calls, letters, meetups in disguise because, for once in his damn life, the King’s been able to simply exist without any expectations. 

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, these years have been some of the best of his life; to get to know someone without any assumptions or judgment because of the stories about him has been the greatest kind of gift — but of course all good things come to an end for him, don’t they?

( If he weren’t so damn terrified of what will happen once he's honest, Lucifer knows he’d be smiling with pride; he had to go and pick someone clever, didn’t he? )                          Hah! After knowing Alastor? Anyone else would fall short.

Green eyes flicker from the window of the radio tower to Al’s accusatory face; the King knows the other man’s suspected something for quite some time…but now – well. He doesn’t want to lie anymore.                                          Never wanted to.

                   Not to him.

❝ — for what it’s worth, ❞ Luce starts as his eyes begin to bleed from green back to their usual red, ❝ I’m sorry for hiding this from you for so long, I just — well, I… ❞ Auburn hair fades to blonde, the freckles dusting porcelain skin disappearing to make way for the usual rosy circles gracing his cheeks. With a flourish of his wrist, Lucifer summons his cane and adorns his staple top hat, clothing following suit in a gentle mist of golden magic.

❝ Lucifer Morningstar, ❞ it’s nearly choked out while he offers Alastor his hand, ❝ charmed to meet you, Alastor. I must say, I'm rather a big fan of your work, though you already know that. ❞ Nervous laughter bursts forth without his say-so, teeth finding his bottom lip in order to halt the embarrassing sounds. ❝ I'll uhm...I'll understand if you'd like for me to go. You earned the truth long ago, but I found myself wanting to hold onto this for as long as I could, because...hah, I mean, I don't exactly have a great reputation amongst humans or sinners, do I? ❞

         That was selfish and you'll deserve him loathing you for it.                      I know.

[ofhell]

@diistortion sacrificed: ❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜ No Alastors Allowed

It’d be the smart thing to do, certainly; sending Alastor away would put an end to so many of his own heart’s problems — yet Lucifer knows he won’t be able to do it, for the very thought has his chest feeling much too tight.

❝ Do you even know why I was angry with you, Al? ❞ 

Blackened claws find purchase within the porcelain skin of his arm, and still, Lucifer can’t look at him. It’s easier to speak to the night sky — easier to pretend that none of this is happening when he’s not focusing on how picturesque Alastor’s curls look under the magicked starlight.

❝ — I mean, look, I get it. I’m not…I’m not right, at a lot of things, and I’m not…I’m not good at much, but… ❞

          He’s trying. 

( Always, always trying — even when the world kicks him down and laughs about it. )

❝ I wasn’t angry because you critiqued me. I was angry because you did it in front of Charlie. You should have spoken to me first — I don’t need…I don’t want… ❞

               For fuck’s sake, Luce, spit it out.

❝ I’ve ruined things with her enough, Al, and I can’t bear to keep letting her down. And when you do that, I can see the look on her face, and I can fucking taste her disappointment. ❞

Heaven’s army has nothing on such a bitter taste.

                    And right now? By Father, he’s choking on it.

❝ I’m going to screw up a lot of things. I’m going to make so many mistakes that I’ll look like a goddamned clown, but — I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to be here, so long as she’ll let me be, and when you do that shit, Al… ❞

          Leave, dad. You've screwed things up for me enough.

Well. It makes Charlie not want him here anymore.

                   ( You were never good for her, always poisoning her mind with childish dreams and lies — )

             That voice in his head sees golden ichor on his claws.

            Not the time. Not the place.

❝ I just want you to come to me first if you have a problem. I’m not ordering you to, and I’m not going to make you, I just — I’m just asking you, to please — please give me a chance to do better. ❞

                  He can’t fail again. Not at this.

❝ And for whatever it's worth...I'm sorry about what I said. The whole not seeing you again thing? Yeah, I know it was an overreaction, but I mean, come on, Bambi — I am the sin of Pride. ❞

Not that he's proud of pushing away the one person he's allowed himself close to in eons.

[hillmon]

something deeply gay about the whole “holding hands” part of volleyball