PROMPT POST #1
Dec. 13th, 2024 07:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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2) All prompts must include a subject line containing the pairing and a brief description of the trope/kink requested.
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For example "Alastor - Gen, Learning to Play the Furby Organ".
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Fill: "title", pairing, rating, any content warnings necessary
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HAPPY PROMPTING! =D
Alastor/Lucifer - Alastor doesn't sleep
Date: 2024-12-13 07:09 pm (UTC)This causes huge problems for Lucifer, who cannot get a moment's peace from the Hotel's most annoying demon.
Lucifer decides to do something about it and finally make Alastor go the fuck to sleep.
Re: Alastor/Lucifer - Alastor doesn't sleep
Date: 2025-01-13 12:18 am (UTC)Alastor/Husk, dubcon drinking together
Date: 2024-12-13 07:10 pm (UTC)Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
Date: 2024-12-13 07:10 pm (UTC)One version of Alastor menaces the other with a knife. The other version of Alastor gets a little bit *too* into it.
Bloodplay totally optional (but might be fun).
Re: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
Date: 2024-12-13 07:13 pm (UTC)Human Alastor is sexily threatened(? or maybe it's just foreplay) with a knife by the demon version of himself. Some blood, discussions of past violence/gore, Alastor-typical weirdness.
"Do you remember the lectures Mama used to give us whenever she caught us playing with one of these?"
The demon's voice is hot against Alastor's cheek. It's too sweet, too soft against his skin, maggots squirming on something thick with the cloying scent of rot. The whisper of the knife the other Alastor holds against the soft skin of his throat is ice cold compared to the warm, sticky air, summer in the bayou making his collar feel as tight as his pants. The demon's eyes stare back like the rubies set in the necklaces of the girls back in town, flashing in the low light, and there's far too many teeth in his grin as he leers down at Alastor.
"She always told us not to run with knives," the twisted version of himself whispers, in time with the subtle, near-imperceptible presses of the knife against the racing pulse just below his jaw. "Don't play with them, don't steal them from the kitchen. But you remember what we were doing with those knives, don't you?"
Alastor — horribly, desperately human — swallows against the icy chill of the blade, mind working with plans to get himself out of this situation. His manhood is aching against his slacks and he's not entirely sure why, not when the other Alastor presses a little harder and there's a bright sting just before the sensation of blood joining the beads of sweat rolling down his neck. It feels like sticky syrup, surely staining the starched crispness of his collar, and he spares a brief second of annoyance to hoping it doesn't end up soaking through to his tie.
"Yes," Alastor murmurs, the motion of his throat making the knife waver, another shallow cut. "I remember."
People have died in this city since long before he ever wielded the scissors to cut their threads of life: there are always bodies to be found, if one knows where to look. Before Alastor ever held a knife against a living person, he studied the ones who had been felled by something else — drugs, illness, someone that was gone by the time the gangly child got there, knife in hand, his heart racing in anticipation just the same way that it is now. He wonders if the demon can hear it, or smell the fear and apprehension that makes his shirt stick to his lower back, mixed with some twisted sort of thrill as a shudder rolls down his spine.
"The man on the shore of Lake Catherine." It comes out high and breathy from Alastor's throat, and he clears it, the knife hard against his artery, before going on. "That December where it didn't rain a single day."
"The lake was low," the other Alastor says, eyes growing somehow hellishly brighter, one of his strange ears twitching restlessly. "They had dragged him into the reeds. The lake would fill up when the rains came..."
There's a needy sort of throb from between his legs as the demon digs the point of the knife into his jawbone. Tomorrow, it will look like it's simply a nick from shaving. Tonight, it bleeds slow and sluggish, the demon's eyes following it the whole way down.
"...and the body would sink into the muck." Alastor has to wet his lips, and he tastes salt on his skin and ozone in the air. "But we found it first."
"Yes," his counterpart breathes. "Yes, we did."
The man was freshly dead, gone for mere hours. He was dressed nice, his own blazer haphazardly tied around him, and Alastor was twelve years old and had decided that since the body already had a stab wound, there was no reason he shouldn't slit the man open like he was gutting a fish and stare in silent curiosity at the bright insides. What he remembers most vividly is how soft they looked, fleshy and cloyingly sweet. Alastor's insides probably look like that, too, and they could spill out so easily with a few swift cuts of the knife the demon holds so deliberately against his throat. He swallows drily and feels his thighs tense as the demon leans a little closer into his space.
"You really must keep better control of yourself, boy." The other Alastor's voice is rough with static. "What if I were to slit your throat right now? My, that would be embarrassing."
"You won't," Alastor says, but he's not entirely sure of that. "I know you won't."
"I won't," the demon agrees. "Though I could. But I think you know that already, hm?"
The demon's leg shifts and Alastor has to bite his tongue to hold in a shocked moan as the motion drags the fabric of his underwear across his aching manhood. He thought he was tall, but his counterpart is even taller, his thigh pressing hard into Alastor's groin as he adjusts the knife so the tip is digging into the soft underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his head back. The ceiling is dark above him, swimming like he's six feet underground already. The motion makes his breaths come in short, sharp gasps. He can hear blood rushing in his ears, his skin hot. The other Alastor can still look down on him like this. He tilts his head to the side.
"I always forget how fragile you are," the demon murmurs, tender in the same way a bruise is tender. "How easy it is to draw your blood."
A flick of his wrist and the knife cuts a neat slice into the vulnerable skin, not deep enough to damage but deep enough to feel numb for half a heartbeat before the sting comes. The blood that follows trails down Alastor's throat, heading towards the sweat-soaked collar and knot of his tie, but the demon catches it first, deforming his neck with a sickening crack to lick up the droplet, his tongue warm and wet and shocking a raw noise from behind Alastor's teeth. The other Alastor's smile is lined with teeth where he's still pressing his face into his throat and the knife is body-heat warm against his skin once more and he is so terribly hard that it's starting to make him feel a little lightheaded. The urge to grind his hips into his counterpart's thigh is tight in his gut, but he resists, panting up at the ceiling.
"If you carry one knife, carry another." The demonic version of himself presses his leg a little harder against his groin. "Somewhere you can reach with one hand, like the inside of your waistband. That way, if someone else gets close to you and threatens you like this..." The knife digs hard into Alastor's artery and there's a brief shock of primal fear before he realizes that it's the blunt edge, pressingly harmlessly into his skin. "You can have your other one sticking out of their kidneys before they even realize what happened."
It's sound advice, and Alastor will probably follow it. That's why he's keeping this warped version of himself around, isn't he? Because he's got the same look in his eyes but he knows what's coming? He breathes deeply and carefully lowers his head back down to a more comfortable position.
"I understand."
"I always was a quick learner." The other Alastor hums and withdraws the knife but not his presence, flipping it back in his hand so he's holding the blade. It looks like he's about to hand it back, for a second — but then he lowers it and digs the bone handle of the knife cruelly against the obvious tent in Alastor's slacks.
Alastor nearly yelps, only barely managing to choke it into something marginally less embarrassing as his manhood twitches in his clothes and a full-body shudder wracks every limb. His counterpart just stares, eyes like embers as he watches him squirm. Just when Alastor thinks he's about to pull back and tell him to go take care of it himself, he nudges the handle of the knife against him again, carefully applying pressure until Alastor's thighs start to shake.
"You really do like this."
"Surely you do as well, then," Alastor says, and he wishes his face didn't feel so flushed as he says it.
His counterpart leans in dreadfully close once more, his breath ghosting over his ear. "I would never show it."
The sensation of the knife pressing into him changes all at once and a moan is torn from his throat as he realizes that it's no longer the handle but the flat of the blade that the demon holds against his prick, rocking it until Alastor's body takes over and he can only groan helplessly as he grinds his hips into the metal. One slip of the other Alastor's wrist, one hard jolt, and the blade would bite through his slacks and into the meat of his thigh and slit his femoral artery wide open. His blood pressure would drop like a stone into the murky water of the bayou. Within minutes, he would pass out. The last thing he would feel would be this awful, delicious pressure. The last thing he would see would be the demon's brimstone eyes. It would not, all things considered, be such a bad way to go.
Alastor cums with a strangled noise, his underclothes going hot and sticky with his own release. The wet patch that blooms on the front of his slacks threatens to dirty the blade — but as Alastor pants, electricity dancing behind his eyelids, the other version of himself pulls it away and steps back entirely, looking satisfied with himself.
There's a blur of movement and then a thud next to Alastor's head. For a moment, the haze of the orgasm makes his thoughts slow. Then he looks to the side and finds the knife sticking out of the wall next to him, still wavering with the force of impact.
"Same time tomorrow," the other Alastor says, his smile growing disconcertingly wider. "Don't be late."
Re: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-14 08:25 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-15 01:21 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-14 01:42 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-15 01:22 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-15 05:52 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Alastor/Alastor, Knifeplay (maybe also a little bloodplay)
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-15 07:48 am (UTC) - ExpandNiffty/any or Niffty - Gen, Niffty's human life
Date: 2024-12-13 07:13 pm (UTC)Niffty/Lucifer - Niffty scores the bad boy
Date: 2024-12-13 07:14 pm (UTC)Charlie/Lucifer, first date
Date: 2024-12-13 07:14 pm (UTC)Valentino/Vox, body worship/gentle sex
Date: 2024-12-13 07:14 pm (UTC)Vox knows, and plans to show him it can be different.
Valentino/Vox, gay awakening
Date: 2024-12-13 07:15 pm (UTC)Valentino knows perfectly how to deal with that.
Alastor/Vox, rimming
Date: 2024-12-13 07:15 pm (UTC)Alastor/Lucifer, medical kink
Date: 2024-12-13 07:15 pm (UTC)Re: Alastor/Lucifer, medical kink
Date: 2024-12-14 01:44 pm (UTC)Alastor playing dress up and 'treating' Lucifer for hysteria has lived in my brain rent free for motnhs
Alastor/Lucifer(/any), voyeurism
Date: 2024-12-13 07:16 pm (UTC)Re: Alastor/Lucifer(/any), voyeurism
Date: 2024-12-17 06:05 am (UTC)Charlie/Lucifer, scissoring
Date: 2024-12-13 07:16 pm (UTC)Alastor / Charlie - Little Red Riding Hood
Date: 2024-12-13 07:16 pm (UTC)Off to grandma's house...
What sexy terrors are waiting in the dark?
Whether you cast Charlie or Alastor as poor Little Red Riding Hood, I'm sure it will be great fun!
(bonus points if there's an Angela Carter reference)
Blitzo/Stolas - Blitzo finds Stolas' embarrassing erotica collection
Date: 2024-12-13 07:17 pm (UTC)Blitzo finds it.
Alastor's Shadow/Lucifer (Alastor doesn't know!)
Date: 2024-12-13 09:24 pm (UTC)(Lucifer is fucking his shadow, good time is had all around, but Alastor doesn't know it's Lucifer and is trying to figure out who is getting frisky with his Shadow, who refuses to share the identity of its paramour)
Charlie / Lucifer - Charlie runs into a porno featuring knockoff versions of herself and Lucifer
Date: 2024-12-13 09:41 pm (UTC)Charlie watches it in righteous indignation, trying to find out who would dare film such an awful thing so she can make sure no more get produced (and existing copies are destroyed).
It would be horrible if this awoke something in her, wouldn't it?
Bonus points if there's an entire series of pornos already made!
Fill: "royal affairs", Charlie/Lucifer, E, cw: incest, part 1/3
Date: 2024-12-30 11:50 pm (UTC)Charlie shamefully masturbates to a porno plucked straight out of her deepest fantasies. Part 1/3.
"You don't understand, Miss Charlie! It's art!"
Charlie whirls around and fixes the newest resident of the Hazbin Hotel — a diminutive, rodent-like demon with a bushy tail and shifty, dark eyes — with a scathing glare over the cardboard box currently occupying her arms. "Neux, this is a box of pornos."
Neux groans as if Charlie is carting away an entire museum's collection. "Pornography is art!"
"If you want 'art' in your room so bad," Charlie says, trying not to let her tone veer too far into condescending sarcasm, "then paint a damn picture. We have rules. I don't want to support Valentino's business any more than absolutely necessary. Get it imported from Lust if you really can't live your afterlife without it."
"But Lust porn is so expensive," Neux whines. "All those labor laws and worker protections make it so hard to afford..."
Charlie physically cannot resist rolling her eyes and, horribly, she only feels a little bad about it. "Start a piggy bank. I'm getting rid of this."
With that, she turns back around and doesn't acknowledge Neux's offended sputtering. The porn produced by Valentino is the most accessible to Sinners, a natural consequence of being cheap, easy to obtain, and as varied as porn can possibly be, but Charlie has decided that when it comes to that awful moth, she's putting her foot down. If and when he decides he wants to give redemption an honest go, she'll welcome him — but until then, she's not letting him or anything he had his hands on into her Hotel if she has a choice in the matter.
Ugh. Charlie grimaces as the building helpfully blinks one of the lights next to the grandfather clock in the lobby as she walks past. Damn it, I don't really have time to take care of this right now. Why, oh why, did I schedule all those meetings back to back today?
It should be fine. Her office is magically warded and only she, Vaggie, Alastor, and Lucifer have keys to the lock, and she highly doubts any of them are going to take an interest in a box full of bad porn flicks. She nudges her office door open with her hip and sighs to herself as she carries the box back behind her desk and drops it on the floor with an unceremonious rattle of plastic cases. She probably shouldn't burn them (Hell's environment is bad enough), but she could pretty easily wipe the discs and then recycle the cover inserts... Maybe she could even repurpose the whole thing. It might be a fun project to tell everyone to make their own personal movie and then have a movie screening night — though Angel might need some extra direction to make sure it's in line with what she's envisioning and not, well, porn.
Charlie brushes her bangs back as she stands up straight once again, but something in the box catches her eye before she can step away. The motion of dropping it has jostled the top layer of discs and revealed some of the ones underneath it.
One of which has...a somewhat disconcerting cover.
Charlie frowns as she stoops to pick the disc up and look more closely at the people on the cover. One is a woman with red eyes and full, pouty lips made dark with cherry-black lipstick. Her blonde hair has been pulled into a high ponytail. There's a superficial resemblance to Charlie, if she sort of tilts her head to the side and squints a little, and the makeup definitely isn't doing anything to dispel that notion: long, dark lashes and generous application of pink blush matches Charlie's own mascara habits and the natural rosiness of her cheeks. The woman's clothes are a decent match, too, the posing of her standing behind a desk showing off a red blouse that matches the color of Charlie's normal work uniform tucked into high-waisted black pants.
But the woman isn't really what caught Charlie's eye — she's long known that to many residents of Hell (too many, it sometimes feels like), she's an object of attraction and not much more. She and Lucifer have had many awkward discussions about it that she looks back on with the now-fond realization that the awkwardness was a thin veneer to spare her the embarrassment of being faced with seething paternal rage. There are a lot of horny Sinners in Pride and a lot of horny Hellborn in every other ring, and she is firstly a royal, secondly powerful, and thirdly, yes, hot. Finding a porno with a character that is clearly meant to represent her is weird, but it wouldn't be the first time.
It would be the first time that she's found one where her partner is a dead ringer for Lucifer, though. Because that is most certainly who the male Sinner also on the cover is supposed to represent: he's been styled with the same blonde hair, the same rosy cheeks, dressed all in white except for his red cravat. He's even a few inches shorter than the woman, though still tall enough to take a pose leaning over her shoulder, one hand suggestively beginning to slip beneath the waistband of her pants and the other pinning her hand down to the desk in front of her. Though his head is turned slightly away from the viewer, he's looking at the camera, a seductive little smile on his mouth.
As if everything else weren't enough to confirm Charlie's suspicions, the porno apparently has a title, emblazoned across the bottom of the cover: Royal Affairs.
"...Fuck me," Charlie whispers, with an immediate wince at her own poor choice of words.
She hastily flips the disc over to try and find a credit as to exactly which one of Valentino's many, many subsidiaries and studios made this one, but there's nothing except a brief blurb that she deliberately does not read and a few glowing reviews ("You would think they're actually related! Five stars!") that don't tell her anything relevant. She turns it right side up again and stares despairingly at the cover. Freedom of expression is nice and all, but Lucifer is her dad. She's allowed to draw the line somewhere, right? Use her royal authority to shut production of this particular thing down and maybe, hopefully, get rid of as many copies of it as she can? It wouldn't be that big of a deal. There's a brief thought of asking Lucifer for backup, then the actual considerations of telling him what it's about in the first place catch up to her and she discards that idea as quickly as it came.
Well, she's not going to do anything right now. She has a meeting to get to and this isn't going anywhere; Charlie drops it back into the box and tries to shake the feeling of uncleanliness off her. It's been around for far too long already, but a few more hours probably won't hurt. Probably.
Fill: "royal affairs", Charlie/Lucifer, E, cw: incest, part 2/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-30 11:51 pm (UTC) - ExpandFill: "royal affairs", Charlie/Lucifer, E, cw: incest, part 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2024-12-30 11:51 pm (UTC) - ExpandCharlie/Vaggie, edging
Date: 2024-12-14 07:21 am (UTC)Alastor/Vox, wound fucking
Date: 2024-12-14 07:30 am (UTC)Alastor doesn’t really enjoy most ‘traditional’ sexual activities, but him and Vox found just the right thing.
(Basically, Alastor carves hole(s) into Vox or injures him in whatever way your mind can come up with, and fucks him that way. Consensual and mutual radiostatic – not complicated and sad but reciprocal and fluff - if a bit deranged.)
Angel Dust/Charlie, bondage
Date: 2024-12-14 07:39 am (UTC)Aka, a dustbelle bdsm fic, I’m thinking dom!Angel, nonsexual kink (Vaggie must know and be okay with it, but you decide if you want to go the sexual or nonsexual route!)
Alastor/Vox, subspace
Date: 2024-12-14 07:53 am (UTC)(Note: Not too angsty, bonus if you make it fluff, actually. But whatever dynamic they have going on, they care a lot about each other.)
Bee/Loona, feeding kink
Date: 2024-12-14 08:00 am (UTC)Lucifer/Alastor, pre-death, underage
Date: 2024-12-14 08:07 am (UTC)Reluctant/dismissive Lucifer, manipulative Alastor determined to go to any lengths to get what he wants.
Alastor/Vox, live on air
Date: 2024-12-14 08:18 am (UTC)Valentino/Velvette/Vox, double penetration
Date: 2024-12-14 08:38 am (UTC)Alastor/Vox, guided masturbation
Date: 2024-12-14 08:56 am (UTC)They could be in each other’s presence or not, and there could be some sensual touching and/or kissing, but Vox doesn’t touch Alastor’s genitals, he just tells him what to do. Humiliation and praise kink are welcome!