Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It only takes one moment of distraction for things to go horribly wrong. Just one thing to take someone off their guard, and suddenly the bitter taste of blood coats their pallet as they struggle to right themselves. 

Try as he might, Alastor couldn’t push aside the pain of ripping flesh across his chest, and burning holy light that permeated the tissue like parasites burrowing down as far as they could. There was a steady, static-like ringing in his ears that came with a feeling of lightheadedness and sharp pain in his skull; a focal point the size of a Winchester bullet between his eyes. 

I can’t die I can’t die I can’t die—not like this—

Alastor’s eyes snapped open and he shot up out of bed, breath unsteady and ragged as he took in his new and unfamiliar surroundings. He winced harshly at the movement when a sharp pain ripped through his chest, bringing with it a familiar metallic taste on his tongue. The room looked like one of the guest rooms in the hotel, except different in ways his brain couldn’t pick apart all at once in his disoriented state. 

“Oh dear,” He heard spoken by a familiar female voice, warm and hushed with the lilt of a Brooklyn accent, “You’re finally awake.” The Radio Demon fixed his attention on his good friend Rosie, who was seated in a plush red and white striped armchair in the corner of the room with an old harlequin novel in her hands. 

She had thin half rimmed reading glasses perched elegantly on her nose. Her clothing choice was more comfortable and casual compared to her usual dolled up dress and wide brimmed sun hat; forgoing that for a gray and maroon gown with a soft floral and lace like pattern. Its wide collar was lined with lacey black ruffles that draped across her chest, accompanied by a black knit shawl that wrapped over her slender shoulders. It was, perhaps, the closest thing to night-wear he’d ever seen her in. 

“Where am I? What’s—“ Alastor’s brow furrowed as he looked from Rosie to a mirror on the wall just off to the right of her. Something wasn’t right, something felt off—wrong even—as his brain registered the sight of someone who absolutely could not be himself speaking and moving exactly when he did, “Who is that ?” 

“It’s going to be alright, but there’s a lot that needs to be explained.” Rosie said in a placating manner as she bookmarked and shut her novel, placing it on the table right underneath the mirror and standing up. Her voice was far too calm, and her actions far too comfortable for the current situation.

Alastor made a move to get out of bed and inspect the offending piece of wall decor further because that wasn’t right, it couldn’t be—but the second his feet touched the carpet and he stood up, he felt his legs give out and he ungracefully collapsed to the ground with a loud thump; dragging down with him half the beds comforter. 

“Oh no, Alastor you’re still recovering, let me help you up—“ she said as she went to lift her friend from the floor, only for the other Overlord to flinch back and push himself away from her like a frightened and cornered animal.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” He spat out at her in defense, pushing aside the increased pain in his chest and swallowing down the metallic taste at the back of his throat.

To Rosie’s credit, she only fixed him with the look of an unimpressed and unamused mother; raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow as if to say ‘Really?’

There was a growing sense of dread as Alastor took in the appearance of his feet and hands, both familiar yet very different to what they were before. 

Although his arms had always been black, his fingers now shared the tone; no longer the bright crimson red he was so fond of. His feet were, by far, the biggest difference comparatively; resembling a strange morph between that of a red cloven deer hoof and a regular human foot. With some horror, he hesitantly flexed the two digits to confirm that they were real and not a figment of his imagination.

“Alastor you need to let me help you up, or would you rather I get Husker or Angel in here to do it for me?” She said it like she was chastising a child, and not like she was speaking to the fully grown adult man that he was. 

With the closest thing to a pout Alastor was probably capable of with his ever present smile, he allowed his friend to help him to his feet and seat him on the side of the bed. His ears were drawn back and he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes, feeling shame for being unable to do it himself and having to rely on someone else to help with something as basic as standing up. 

He couldn’t even blame it on the new feet, because though they were very much different now, they were the exact ones he’d started out with in hell. This must have been some kind of sick joke being played on him, surely.

As a demon grows in power and strength, they’re able to alter their appearance in one way or another. Through contracts made, on either side a cosmetic change is simple; and taking on bits and pieces of appearance and power from his victims was as simple as breathing air.

Alastor himself never had the want nor need to re-brand the souls he owned; unlike Valentino. If he owned the soul, that was much the business between him and the sinner he made a deal with. It made sending them out to get things done without suspicion easier for him anyways. 

For himself, however, having the constant glaring reminder of why he died stare him right back in the mirror was less than ideal. Features in the afterlife for sinners often reflected who they were when they were alive, and how they came to knock on death's door. Unfortunately for him, being mistaken for a deer by a hunter with the ability to see a distance probably not too far off from his own nose didn’t do him any justice.  

His eyes shifted to the mirror again and he seethed at the face looking back at him with equal malice. The shape and smile was much the same; his skin, however, was not. The hue was the slightest bit darker, leaning more towards brown rather than red. His forehead and down the bridge of his nose was a shade or two darker, ending in a black tip that had a line trailing from his nose to his upper lip. His eyelids where almost a shade of white which matched the speckles that now peppered his cheeks. His smile was whiter, accentuated by the now inky black of his lips.

It made him look more like a silly woodland creature rather than the intimidating and dangerous Overlord that he was. The bright red of his hair was now rusty in hue as well. Truly, he disliked his old default aesthetic, missing the beautiful dominant red he loved so much. 

He scrunched up his nose in distaste as he realized yet another aspect he disliked, perhaps the most, about his old look. Head turning to look over his shoulder and downward, he could see the cutesy red and white fluffy deer tail protruding from a spot just above his butt. His irritated smile shifted into something akin to disgust as he wiggled it to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating the whole thing.

All the while, the throbbing and burning sensation in his chest only grew. 

“Rosie, what happened?” He finally asked, now looking down at his clothes to fully inspect himself. He wore a pair of red and white pinstripe pajama pants that were secured in place with a drawstring, tied into a bow. His shirt was a long sleeve button up which matched the pants, with the right arm cuffed around his bicep, revealing a patch of white gauze taped to the inner bend of his elbow, which was tinged the slightest bit both gold and red. 

Hypertrophic scars peppered the skin along his arm and vanished behind his sleeve, more leftovers from his death resulting from being mauled by hunting dogs. Long since turned white, they stuck out like a sore thumb on his arms even high past where the black of his skin faded to the new brown color. Something that was usually fairly lost against the old grayish red he’d adapted. 

“Well,” she began as she took a seat next to him on the bed, “for starters, the fight against the exorcists was wildly successful, with only a few casualties for my cannibals.” She said in a tone that hid her sadness for her lost followers.

“And what about Adam? What happened to me?” Alastor said impatiently.

“About that…” Rosie signed, “You put up a very good fight against him, but well, you took a nasty hit from his weapon.” 

Alastor’s eyes narrowed at his friend, “I didn’t get hit.” 

Once more, she leveled him a look that conveyed she wasn’t amused, “Alastor I don’t mean to point out the obvious, but you’re currently bedridden and recovering. If he hit any deeper he would have slashed through your heart.”

As if on cue, there was a sharp pain that shot through his chest which had him flinching and bringing his left hand up to inspect the area. He winced as his pointed fingers came in contact with what felt like a cushion of bandaging that wound around his chest just beneath the cotton of his shirt.

“If Lucifer hadn’t shown up when he did, you wouldn’t have made it.”

Alastor shifted his eyes from his chest back up to his friend, “No, that can’t be right.” He bit back, refusing to entertain the idea that the King of Hell himself would come to his aid; let alone accept the notion that he needed the aid to begin with. 

“Now now,” she made a shooing motion with her hands, “I know you're too prideful to accept it, but facts are facts; and you’ve been out of commission for almost a week in recovery.”

He refused to dignify her with a response. Absolutely not, he didn’t need help. He didn’t lose fights, he ended them. His smile was pulled into more of a sneer as he refused to make eye contact.

“You can sulk about it all you want,” Rosie rolled her eyes, which would have been un-noticeable with the black voids they were if he didn’t practically hear it in her tone, as she stood back up, “For now though, you should really get some rest. Holy energy in any dose is lethal, but Adam’s attack specifically was far more of a death sentence than if it’d come from any of the other exorcist angel.” She made her way back over to her seat to grab her book and turned back to face her friend, “For the time being while you heal, I’m staying here to help.”

“I don’t need your help.” He bit out as he made the move to cross his arms over his chest, only to hiss in pain as the pressure on his chest pushed in on the still healing wound.

“Sure you don’t.” She said sarcastically, “I’m gonna step out to let Charlie know you’re finally awake, poor thing was devastated when she found out you’d been hurt. Be back in a jiff.”

With that, she left the room and let the door shut with a soft click behind her.

Once more, Alastor looked into the mirror and glared daggers at his reflection. 

Well fuck.

Chapter Text

Filthy. Positively and unequivocally filthy he felt. Not particularly as far as hygiene went, but now that he knew what happened there was an uncomfortable itching in his veins that simply would not leave him. Maybe it was in his head, but the knowledge that angelic blood now passed through his body brought with it a sense of nausea. 

Lucifer’s blood to be specific.

As it was explained to him, the Holy energy he was afflicted with during the extermination could not be processed and amended with the blood of a sinner. It was meant to purge darkness that lay within Hell's residents, and even the slightest bit could spread through the body like a lit match in a room of methane gas; leaving nothing behind. 

With a kick of blessed blood, fallen Angel or not, his body was able to process and purge the infection; leaving behind only the gash across his chest that would heal in due time now that it was free of Holy light. 

Even more so, it came with a new sense of obligation to the short pest that never ceased to annoy him. He was unfortunately indebted to Lucifer, and after losing everything, that fact was just an insult to injury. 

Alastor was seated on a plush red and white striped couch in the hotel lobby, casually sipping a cup of black coffee; reveling in its bitter taste as he thought.

He was keeping a close eye on the sinners who, after the battle with Heaven, decided to give redemption a chance. Sure there was still no way of knowing whether this pipe dream of a plan would actually work, but there was now some shred of hope. Maybe not in the form of redemption, but one in the form of safety in the chaotic and uncontrollable Hell they were doomed to for all eternity. 

The hotel was still a slow rolling project, even with the new renovations and the fact it served as a safe haven of sorts from the more violent offenders sentenced to hell. Those coming and going currently were cast down here for small and minute things: drug use, sex work, and lusting after the same gender to name a few. Maybe a few cases of petty theft thrown into the mix as well. 

Personally, Alastor felt he’d earned his spot in hell. The complexities of his mortal life reflected on the man he was today, and he was rather content to be here; thriving even. But people like the ones moving about before him didn’t deserve eternal damnation. As if their time on earth wasn’t already a personal hell for them, being punished in both life and death for something as little as escaping, trying to get by, and loving someone was simply tragic. 

It really made one think. Oftentimes, those who suffered in life were doomed to fail from the start; while those fortunate enough to never want or struggle for anything were rewarded in death for maintaining their good fortune. 

Alastor sighed as he carefully set his cup of coffee down on a coaster on the table before him; subconsciously tapping his shoe on the white tile floor lost in thought. 

“What’s got you in your head this afternoon?” Rosie asked as she busied herself with a project.

She was seated to his left, holding in her hands his old overcoat that was shredded across the chest in battle. She was in the process of mending it, having finally gotten her hands on matching fabric to replace them and restore the garment good as new. With a needle and crimson colored thread, she was in the process of skillfully sewing the new panels on the front. She had a knack for the sort of thing, having worked as a seamstress during her time on earth.

Alastor had taken to wearing a red pinstripe vest over a white dress shirt with black arm garters holding the sleeves at a perfect length. He wore his usual black dress pants, now with a hole in them to accommodate the tail he had the misfortune of having again. 

“Oh nothing in particular. Just thinking about what needs to get done is all.” He sort of lied to her.

She’d been practically glued to his hip since he’d been finally able to get up from bed and move around. Granted it was with the assistance of his cane, which Charlie was thoughtful enough to get mended with the help of Carmilla and some angelic steel. His old cane was now heavily improved from its old state before it snapped like a toothpick in battle. 

“The thing with the other Overlords? Or the radio silence from Heaven since the extermination?” She asked, lifting her eyes from her project just long enough to catch the irritation on Alastor’s face. She was wearing her normal dolled up dress and sun hat today, with her reading glasses in place to help her focus on her work.

“Both, I suppose.” He sighed and put a stop to the endless tapping of his foot, “Things will work out I’m sure. But the longer the situation takes to resolve, the more time gets wasted that I could be doing something.” 

Rosie hummed and she quietly returned to her work, diligently passing her needle through the fabric of his jacket, steady and even. She knew full well what he’d meant. The longer his chest took to heal, the more time the three overlords he’d trapped in his radio broadcast had to work together; and it wasn’t exactly rocket science to know where to find him either.

Even though his powers were now limited, that didn’t make him a helpless damsel in distress. He didn’t get his reputation as a powerful Overlord off the bat out of sheer dumb luck, after all. Though at present, that status was technically null and void until he could acquire more souls. He had none under his thumb now; and as an Overlord that simply wouldn’t do. 

Despite his power, he’d be an idiot to think he wasn’t currently without a handicap. The wound was healing well enough, but he still had to be careful with movement around his chest and arms. One never really understood just how much mobility revolved around the muscles in their torso till said muscles are injured. 

There was one thing good that came out of all of this. Outside of a little debt owed to Hell's royal pain in the ass, his soul was fully his own again. Lilith would be pissed off, he was sure, but now he had a fresh start and she had no control over him. The downside to his situation being literally everything else. Sure he was more than capable of retrieving the souls that were rightfully his, but it would all be such a monotonously long task when compared to the more heavy hitters he lost. 

Pity really, as he would have to settle for killing the three like he had with the other Overlords he’d dealt with back in the day. Despite being entertaining additions to his broadcasts, they were now a detriment to him should he lose control again. Curse his artistic vision, sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. 

The only Overlord he’d ever truly spared was Husker, but he’d never really proved to be a threat, and his sins in life weren’t anything past a nasty gambling addiction and alcoholism. Even after all was said and done, with Husker owning his own soul again, he was still with the hotel to Alastor’s own surprise and amusement.

The other three though.

Yedne, Thatres and Rend were a much different story. The Shadow Caster, Fire Breather and Matrix Demons were his trophies of the good ol’ days, now loose and likely wreaking havoc somewhere in Hell’s Pride ring. 

“Alastor, my dear good fellow!” 

Now one thing to know about Alastor, is that he most certainly did not feel anxious, nervous or worried; and most of all he absolutely positively did not experience fear. So when his ears picked up on the leisurely approach of healed feet which accompanied the voice of one of said Overlords; he absolutely didn’t feel any of that.

“Thatres, fancy meeting you here. To what do I owe the displeasure?” Alastor all but purred out, feigning ignorance for what the man could want with him. He simply crossed his get over his knee and folded his hands on it, casually tilting his head to the side to give him a curious look.

Thatres, to his credit, let the pointed jab roll right off him with a smile, arms crossed behind his back, “Oh ever the kidder you are.” He chuckled as he came to a stop at the coffee table across from him, “I simply came by to check out what you’ve been up to in the some odd-80 years since we last crossed paths.”

Rosie looked up from her project to get a look at Thatres with a warning stair. She halted her movements on the jacket and hand moving to grab the fabric scissors from the table, ready to fight if he tried anything funny. Her usual smile was pulled into a sharp toothed frown as she sized the man up.

Thatres was a man roughly around Charlie’s height, or perhaps a bit shorter; with a more slender and agile figure. His deep red skin was covered in an array of black stripes and speckles that resembled polished marble rock, which glowed ever so faintly. His facial features were reptilian around the eyes and nose, with elongated fin-like ears that drooped back with an elegance only found in renaissance paintings. His long, straight black hair was slicked back, with the bottom quarter of it erupting into bright red curls. He wore a black and white pinstriped suit that had a gray undershirt, with a black fedora placed perfectly on his head.

Yes, he could be described as a beautiful man; but outward beauty didn’t equate to much when the inside was as pleasant as a sack of dog shit.

“Oh my, oh dear,” Thatres gasped as he watched Rosie’s movements, eyes looking over her as if she was a prize to be won, “The lovely Ms. Rosie, to what do I owe the pleasure of being in your enchanting presence this afternoon, m’lady?” To accentuate his question, he did an over the top display of taking his hat off, holding it to his chest, and bowing his head in her direction.

Alastor felt secondhand embarrassment at the gesture as Rosie’s face changed from a frown to disgust.

Alastor rolled his eyes in irritation, the sound of radio static growing as his annoyance grew, “Get to the point. You have a problem with me, and are seeking retribution, am I correct?” he asked as his eyes turned black and pupils into radio dials.

“Now now, Alastor!” Thatres raised his hands in defense, “Nothing of the sort my good man! I simply heard of you and the Princess of Hell's little project and it piqued my interest.” He placed his hat back on his head and redirected his attention back to the man in question, “You see, 80 years is a very long time, and I got to thinking. It really put things into perspective for me when I finally left your broadcast; and when I heard of our little Princess’s cause, I decided that I would like to give this whole redemption thing a little try?”

It was in that moment Alastor knew without a second of doubt that Thatres needed to go.

Now.

“Well,” He began as he took his cane and stood up so he could look down at the Overlord before him, “As much as I’m sure having you around would be amusing, I cannot allow it. You see, this hotel only takes guests that are serious about the cause; and you and I both know that’s just not your style.” 

Thatres, to his credit, didn’t break face as he maintained eye contact with the looming Radio Demon, “I think you forget yourself Alastor,” he smiled up at him, “Ultimately, you don’t have the final choice in throwing out guests, now do you?” He quirked up an eyebrow, “That would be the lovely Ms. Charlotte Morningstar, am I correct?” he all but purred out.

“I feel you also forget yourself,” Alastor countered as his antlers began to grow like the branches of the tree’s Thatres hung his victims from in life, “Through the deal I made with her at the start of this, I own equal share in this hotel as she does.” The other sinners in the lobby all ebbed away to a safe distance in fear of being caught in the crossfire.

“Would that perhaps be a deal you made prior to extermination day, or was that after all your deals were nullified?” Thatres gave him a coy smile, as he waited for the other sinner to respond.

That was…

Shit.

“Oh hello!” As if on cue, Charlie and her father walked in through the front door. Alastor reverted back to his regular form, and the rest of those in the lobby visibly relaxed, “Are you a new guest?” She grinned as she trotted up to the group, leaving behind her father to see the new person, “It’s so good to meet you, " she reached out and shook his hand, “Are you a friend of Alastor?” 

“You could say I’m something of an old acquaintance, yes." he shook her hand with a smile, "One might even say I was an old co-host in his radio broadcast.” He continued as he bowed down and brought her hand to his lips, “It’s so wonderful to finally be meeting Hell’s one and only Princess.” 

Alastor’s eye twitched in irritation and grit his teeth, sharing an equally irritated expression with Lucifer over Charlie’s shoulder, for the first time in their lives ever agreeing on the same thing. 

Lucifer immediately gave Thatres a skeptical look as he marched up to stand between him and his daughter, pushing his daughter’s hand away from the Overlord, “And who might you be?” He directed up at the taller man.

Thatres looked down at the King of Hell with mild amusement, “I’m Overlord Thatres, but you may have heard of me by my other title The Fire Breath–”

“Nope, never heard of you.” The King cut him off, adjusting the brim of his hat to get a better look, not seeming at all impressed with the sinner before him.

Thatres looked at the King with mild amusement, “Well I do suppose I’ve been out of the game , so to speak, for quite some time now. I may have lost my relevance in my long absence.” He gave a bashful smile as he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his long dewy black hair, “Pity really.”

Lucifer looked from Thatres to his daughter with a skeptical look, still in a place of uncertainty when it came to the rehabilitation of sinners. When Charlie just gave him a shrug he looked over to Alastor who gave him a slight shake of the head, 'No.' then to Rosie; taking particular note of the woman’s grip on her scissors and look of distaste she leveled Thatres way

“I was just telling old Alastor here,” the reptilian overlord clapped a hand on the Radio Demon’s back, shifting the Radio Demon’s eyes from normal to black radio dials, “I’ve had plenty of time for self reflection, and I would love to give rehabilitation a try.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up, “We would love to have you!” she smiled, either not noticing the tension in the room, or overlooking it entirely, “We can get you all checked in and set up in a room in no time at all!”

It was with a growing sense of doom that Alastor watched Charlie signed Thatres into the hotel logbook and ran him through the events they had planned for the week, animatedly talking about the charity Bingo event they had to raise money for some school in Pentagram City that was currently struggling. 

Inwardly, Alastor berated himself for having just not killed the other man when he had the chance. Be it his artistic vision, or his greed for owning souls; he’d truly fucked up. There was a lot that could be said about Thatres and his time alive on earth; too many atrocities that made Alastor’s own sins seem tame. He didn’t know what Thatres had planned, but he did know one thing with absolute certainty.

Nothing good would come of it.

Chapter Text

As much as it pained him to admit, Lucifer’s faith in his people’s ability to change their ways was rather small. He wanted to hold out hope for his daughter's sake, he really did; and that’s why he was trying. 

For his daughter, he’d taken time to diligently research the sins of those coming and going from the hotel; using a bit of his angelic magic to peer into their past and document information that seemed important. Some sinners' files were longer than others, that was for sure.

And yeah there were more sinners down here for tiny things than he’d care to admit, some things even being something out of their control and completely natural. But this was all Lilith’s domain. It was her who primarily took counsel with Heaven to discuss things like who goes where. Was this criteria ever on the table for discussion on what constitutes damnation vs salvation? 

In what way did being gay equate to the same punishment as someone committing a genocide? His daughter was bisexual, and she was the kindest and most caring person he’s ever met. Not to mention her lesbian girlfriend, who similarly to him, had fallen from Heaven for sparing the life of a child. A part of him felt a bit guilty, since this wasn’t an issue he’d ever thought about until Charlie came out to him; but now that it was on his radar he was seeing this issue all over Hell. 

“How are we at the point of punishing people for something as simple as love?” Lucifer mumbled to himself as he dipped his fountain pen into a black inkwell; eyes shifting from a golden glowing orb perched atop an ornate wire sphere stand on his desk. The orb could be conjured and dispelled at will, giving him the ability to see the past lives of sinners down in hell at a moment’s notice. 

Currently he was looking into the Hazbin Hotel’s newest Overlord resident: Thatres, and things weren’t sitting well with him. His case was very much different from all the others he’d looked into, things were missing in his past that seemed to be fogged over from scrying eyes. His record was too ordinary and too clean for it to be real, especially as far as Overlords in Hell went. 

From the reaction both Alastor and Rosie had to the fellow, he’d assumed this guy’s free time was spent kicking puppies or burning down orphanages. The worst Lucifer could see on his record was taking shots of tequila in the back of a Denny’s parking lot at 1am on a Sunday. 

He sighed in annoyance, knowing full well that this couldn't be this guy's whole story. For Alastor: the man who murdered a good many Klansmen and discarded their corpses in the Louisiana bayou, and Rosie: the woman who helped other young women poison and kill their husbands and make it look like an accident, to both be on edge around Thatres? There was more to him than getting drunk on a Sunday before church. 

It was well past midnight, with most of the hotel’s residents long since fallen asleep. From his office at the top of his tower at the hotel, he had a great view of Pentagram City. Not the prettiest City in all of hell, with an eternal layer of smog, glowing red and blue lights from street lamps and electronic billboard advertisements, not to mention the smoke billowing out from busted up buildings like the Pride Ring of hell was exhaling a sickness deep within itself. Smack dab in the city's center was Heaven's embassy. The countdown clock, as well as its usual heavenly golden lights inside its gilded walls were all shut down. Now standing as a hollow reminder of the deal that Lilith made with Heaven before disappearing to who knows where. Now the Embassy was just a discarded shell of its former self.

With it, the exterminations have been halted indefinitely. Something that was only possible because his little girl was brave in ways he hadn’t been in a very long time, and fought for the people of Hell– her people. She took so much after Lilith in that right. 

Lucifer absolutely adored the fact Charlie could see the good in anyone, really. Her heart was in the right place, and there were a certain number of citizens who really did deserve better than Hell had to offer. But others–well some of them were guilty of sins that really couldn’t be addressed and redeemed. 

He tried not to think too far into the sins committed in Hell itself, because there was only so much insanity someone could be surrounded by before losing it themselves. But by golly some of these people were just the worst!

With a large yawn, Lucifer reached over and plucked the orb from its pedestal, tapping its surface to rewind Thatres’ life and started his search anew before placing it back down. 

Lucifer’s study was rather open, with all walls being large open windows. Some were blocked out with gold and white curtains, while the ones around his desk were drawn and held open by apple themed curtain hooks. The color of Hell’s nightlife mingled with the dimmed chandelier in the center of the room, speckling the red tinted room with flashes of golden light. 

It served the purpose of both an office, as well as a crafting studio; with a separate work bench littered with tools and crafting supplies on the opposite end of the room. With it he had an outlet to continue creating things like different rubber ducks, all painted to fit different themes that came to mind. As well as that, he could give attention to his favorite hobby as of late, crafting puppets. These were the only thing he could still create since having Charlie; and it was attached to some of his fondest memories with his daughter when she was still little. Using a little bit of his magic to breathe life into them and telling stories for her, it inspired him to keep creating and expanding on new ideas. 

Cubbies next to the bench were brimming with his more recent creations: toy ducks that could levitate in the air and drift as though they were being placed in a body of water, some that could spit an endless supply of water on command, and others that could walk on their own. The wall next to them had some puppets of silly characters he used as mascots in his amusement park, LuLu World. It was the one thing Lilith really gave him full reign on; a way to keep his mind busy and creative while Lilith did her thing. He’d hoped it would be a great way to bond with his daughter, but by the time it was all said and done Charlie wasn’t a little girl anymore, and Lilith and him were divorced. 

It was bittersweet, really. Now there were constant problems coming from LuLu World involving sinners getting too rowdy and breaking things all the time. There was only so much Beelzebub's Hellhounds could do as far as security went; he was still grateful for the effort they put forth. Things could be worse, he supposes.

The office portion of the room was brimming with shelves, books and legal papers that had him scratching his head. This sort of thing was never his specialty. Or maybe, as he was coming to understand, he’d just never tried in the first place. 

He was working on that though. After all, Lilith had been gone for quite some time now; and his own uninvolvement pushed all the work onto his own daughter. He would get better, he owed his daughter that much, at least.

Each document was full of so much information, he found himself intimidated; bouncing from project to project in an attempt to glean anything from it, but coming up short. He struggled to know where to start, and what information was relevant today vs things he didn’t need to know at present. Because yeah he could start from the beginning, but that’s over 10,000 years worth of information to catch up on.

Lucifer was pulled from his work by the sound of knocking at his door on the floor below, which traveled up from the spiral staircase connecting the floors. He set aside the pen, and with a snap of his fingers dissipated the scrying orb on his desk. It was well past midnight, who could possibly be knocking on his door?

He slid down the railing to the lower floor to get there as fast as possible, worried it might be his daughter needing help with some emergency. He quickly navigated through the bedroom space he had, with ornate furniture and a large window along one of the walls with a similar view of Pentagram City.

“Hello is everything allr–” Lucifer began as he opened the door, halting mid sentence when he was met not with his daughter, but with Alastor who stood with his staff in hand and one arm folded behind him, “Oh, it’s you.” 

Despite knowing he could easily take the taller man in a fight given his current state, the presence of the Radio Demon still put him on edge.

“Why hello to you as well.” He quickly looked down both ends of the hallway before continuing, “Do you mind if we have a little chat?” His sharp toothed smile looked anything but happy as he asked.

Be civil for Charlie.

“Ok, but make it quick.” He said as he stepped aside to let the other man enter his room, closing the door behind him, “So what’s this about? It’s already really late, and I was about to go to bed.” He lied.

Alastor leveled him with an unimpressed look, “Sleeping in your day clothes?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I find sleeping in them makes starting my mornings off easier– of course not!” He snapped, “I was going to change into pajamas. Did you just come here to criticize my clothing choices? Or is there actually something important you’d like to discuss?” He balled his fists as he glared up at the smug bastard who was now looking around the room.

“It pertains to Charlie.” Alastor made no effort to acknowledge the small tirade Lucifer went on, “And the future of this hotel as a whole.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Did you do something to–”

“No no, nothing of the sort.” Alastor waved a flippant and dismissive hand as the accusation, “It’s more of what others might do; the Overlords out across the Pride Ring, as well as new additions to the Hotel’s residency to be more specific.” The Demon tilted his head to look out the window at the glowing city lights, his red eyes looking out at the far off city below with a glint of superiority, “Down there, sir,” His eyes shifted from the window to the King of Hell himself, “The people see you as nothing more than a novelty; and since Lilith left, the respect for the crown has all but fizzled and died out.” 

“What–” Lucifer felt his temper flare as Alastor held up a hand to shush him–I'm the King of Hell for Heaven's sake! You don’t shush me!

“If you would be so kind as to let me finish,” The Overlord looked down at him to make eye contact before tacking on a, “Please.”

For Charlie.

“Fine.” his tone was biting.

“Once Lilith disappeared, and you didn’t step up to take charge, Overlords like myself filled in the political void.”

“In your situation I wouldn’t be inclined to call you an Overlord.” Lucifer crossed his arms and gave the eternally smiling sinner a smug look; who’s only outward tell that his remark ticked him off was an eye twitch, accompanied by the muffled sound of radio interference. 

“ As I was saying,” Alastor continued through gritted teeth, “At present, the people of Hell don’t see you as anything more than a face on a poster. There are upsides and downsides to this, but at present it’s proving to be rather problematic.” His tone was authoritative, his normal jovial-if not sarcastic-transatlantic accent turned a bit sour.

Lucifer was now wondering to himself, why in hell he was just letting the other man prattle on a monologue of all the ways in which he sucked?

“You see,” Alastor continued after a beat of silence, “I feel in some ways, the two of us might see eye to eye when it comes to our Charlie’s rather ambitious goals for Hell.” He said as he tossed his staff from one hand to the next, while Lucifer repressed the annoyance that flared up , “Some of Hell’s population is, how did you put it to Charlie a while ago? Just the worst? Ahh yes that’s the mark.” He sounded too pleased with himself as he twirled his staff in mild amusement.

“Ok yeah, and where are you going with this?” Lucifer asked impatiently.

“Thatres needs to go.” Alastor stated plainly, “And the reason he came here in the first place is because he knows if he’s on Charlie’s good side, then you won’t do a thing to him. All of Hell knows how strained your relationship has been with her, and you’ll do whatever you can to stay in her good graces. It’s made them too comfortable, and Charlie is too kind of a person to see them as the threat they are.”

As much as Lucifer wanted to sock the man before him in the head, he held back. Because he unfortunately had a point, “So what is it you’re looking for here?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, I’ve come to propose a deal of sorts—“

“Absolutely not.”

“—that will benefit us both equally.” Alastor continued to speak, unbothered by Lucifer’s rejection outright, almost as if it were anticipated, “Unlike you, I have no qualms whatsoever with getting my hands dirty in places where your hands are tied. As well as that, I have important information that will benefit you right now, as well as information that will benefit you later. Including but not limited to the comings and goings on the rest of the Overlords in Hell’s Pride Ring. Because right now, to the rest of the sinners here, you’ve lost your relevance.” As he spoke he took the time to inspect his sharp claws, before peering back down at the King.

The longer Alastor spoke, the deeper the frown that was etched on Lucifer's face got, “What the Overlords think of me means nothing." He said, "If they come after my daughter or this hotel, I’ll defeat them like I did Adam. No problem.”

“Ah-ah-aaaaah,” Alastor singsonged, “I fear you underestimate their influence. Politics are not just words and paper; it’s about power and control.” Alastor stepped away from Lucifer get a better look out of the large bedroom window, eyes trained on the distant City, “You might be able to take down one on your own, but what happens when they form alliances? There are quite a few Overlords already rubbing elbows, and nothing forms strong bonds quite like finding a common enemy.”

“And what makes you think they would even target the Hotel?” Lucifer countered, “I hardly think a bunch of power hungry lunatics would come after a place that might not even work.”

Alastor’s smile grew at being called a lunatic, “And it’s that ‘ what if’ they’ll focus on. Don’t forget, a lot of sinners would see this as a way to break contracts clean and easy. Between all the Overlords here in Pentagram City, well over half the population have formed contracts with them one way or another. In that case, this hotel is stealing from them.” The sinner turned his attention back on Lucifer.

With each added point Alastor made, the more and more it conformed in Lucifer’s head just how out of his depth he was; and looking Alastor in the eyes, he could tell that the sinner knew this as well. 

He promised Charlie that he would be here and help. He promised his support. And yeah he was confident in his ability to defend his daughter and the hotel against Adam, but dealing with so much in the unknown planted a familiar seed of doubt in him. The fight with Adam had been easy because Lucifer knew him. He had the upper hand in that fight because he knew just what to say to and what to do to keep things in his favor. 

Outside of Alastor, the only other Overlord he’d met was Rosie and Husk; the latter being a former one at that.

“And if we do make a deal, what do you get out of it?” Lucifer asked, knowing full well there would be some pretty significant strings attached.

There was a bit of a pained look in Alastor’s eyes as he looked back out the window, “As I’m sure you’re well aware of, in my current state I’m rather…” 

“Useless?” Lucifer interrupted with a grin. He really couldn’t help himself as the insult fell naturally from his lips; especially since the better part of this conversation was spent insulting his character over and over again.

Alastor’s ears twitched back, antlers growing and his grin turned into more of a snarl. The sound of radio interference crackled to life for the briefest of moments before dying out and reverting back to normal, “That’s a way to put it, rather rudely at that. But—“ Alastor took a deep, strained breath and swallowed his pride before continuing, “Yes, until my chest wound is healed my abilities are rather lacking.” 

Even with the angelic power pulled from the gash he’d received from Adam on Extermination day, the trauma left in its wake would take way longer than a normal wound would to heal. Alastor would likely be dealing with this issue for a while, especially if he continued to aggravate it in battle. From what he’d come to know, Alastor was a very proud man. Even in life, he'd strive for nothing short of perfection. So he knew damn well how hard it was for him to admit that he could be flawed in some way.

And Lucifer would be lying if he said it didn’t give him at least an ounce of joy.

“Until the wound on my chest is fully healed, I can’t fully rely on my powers without making it worse. If I had souls under contract, powerful ones at that, I would be all the stronger for it. As it were, three rather powerful Overlords who were under my control are now free. One of whom is currently residing with us here as of yesterday afternoon. The other two I have no idea, but I’m confident in my assessment that they’re working together.” He made a flippant hand gesture.

“So what I’m proposing to you is this, a deal of souls. Yours for mine, a contract where we both aid the other for one year then we’re free to go.” 

“Just so I’m understanding this fully.” Lucifer said slowly, “You mean for one year I own your soul and you own mine?”

“Exactly right.” Alastor nodded, grin turning into a thin smile that showed just how displeased with the idea he was as well, but his options were limited, “I can help you with Hell’s political developments, you assist me with getting rid of all three of the overlords that escaped my broadcast, and together we keep Charlie and the Hazbin Hotel safe.” He reached out a hand to Lucifer, “Do we have a deal?”

“So long as we keep it under wraps, then yes.” Maybe it was the fact it was so late at night and he was mentally spent, and maybe it was his want to help his daughter any way he could that had him swallow his pride and accept that he couldn’t do this alone. The King of Hell found himself reaching for Alastor’s outstretched hand and shook it, “We have a deal.”

With Lucifer’s six wings unfurling behind him, horns protruding from his head, tail lashing out and fire at his lips and Alastor’s antlers growing, eyes turning to black radio dials, grin turning wicked with green threads stitched across his lips, with a red x glowing on his forehead; their deal was made. Gold and green energy crackled to life around them as it formed into cuffs around their wrists connecting them by a chain, a gradient of green and gold, from Lucifer to Alastor as it was finalized. 

There was no doubt that the remnants of power dissipated throughout the surrounding areas in the hotel, but for the most part it was concealed to Lucifer’s tower, and what was left would likely go unnoticed as the rest of the Hotel’s residents were fast asleep. 

All except for one.

"Now." Lucifer began, "Tell me about Thatres."

Chapter Text

“Hey dad!” Charlie called out to Lucifer from the entrance of the banquet hall as he ascended the last few steps of the mezzanine, “Would you be able to help me with something?” She asked as she waved him over, smiling widely. She was wearing her usual red dress suit, all but her blazer, with her sleeves folded into cuffs around her elbows.

Despite his late night with Alastor going over the information he had on Thatres, the King of Hell had a little pep in his step as he trotted up to his daughter, heeled boots clicking on the tiled floor as he moved, “Good morning sweetie, what do you need?” He asked, coming to a stop in front of her.

She ushered him through the large archway entrance and into the room, which was in the middle of being set up for the Charity Bingo event she put together, because what’s more redeeming than genuine acts of charity? He couldn't help but match her smile, seeing how excited she was for the hotel’s first ever event.

“Can you help Husk with the lights?” She gestured over to the man in question, who was in the process of unraveling the fresh out of the box string lights from their ties, “You’re the only other one here with wings since Vaggie is outside setting up the sign in the courtyard.” 

“Sure can do kiddo!” Lucifer took his hat off and ran his fingers through his blond hair, getting any stray hairs that fell in his face back in place, “Also really quick,” He looked back up at his daughter as he placed the hat back on, “I was in touch with Beelzebub last night. She heard about the event and wanted to contribute a bit. She has a few friends coming with some raffle items some time soon I think; and they’re offering to stay and keep guard in case things get out of hand.”

Charlie’s eyes brightened as the mention of what was basically her Aunt, “Oh my gosh–she’s really donating raffle items for this? Like really really?” She clasped her hands in excitement before continuing, “Oh, I’ll have to add her to the thank you letter list. Is it really ok that her friends stay and keep watch? I don’t want them to feel like they have too, even though that would be a really good idea and–”

“Charlie don’t worry about it, Bee wouldn’t have offered for her friends to the help if they didn’t want to. Plus, I’ll make sure they get paid for their troubles.”

Charlie reached down and picked her dad up in a tight hug, knocking his hat off in the process, “Thank you-thank you-thank you-thank you!” In any other case, he would have been mildly offended that he was short and light enough for someone to just lift him off the ground like this, but since it was his daughter he was fine with it; returning the hug just as tightly.

“Anything for you, sweetie.” He patted her on the back before she set him back down.

“Oh my gosh I’m sorry,” Charlie said as she reached down to pick up his hat and give it back to him, “Here I didn’t mean to knock it off–”

“It’s fine, hold on to it for me?” Lucifer asked as he flattened out his red and white colored vest before looking back up at her with a sincere smile, grabbing the hat from her hands and standing on his tiptoes to place it on her head, “It’s your show today, kiddo.”

Her eyes got watery as she looked down at her father, “Thank you dad. This–” she began to adjust the hat on her head, “–this means a lot.”

“Hey now, no need for tears,” he chuckled as he took a napkin from the nearest table and passed it to her, “You’ll ruin your eyeliner.”

She took it with a laugh and dabbed the tears away, “Vaggie got me waterproof eyeliner and mascara a bit ago, works like a charm.”

“You got yourself a keeper there.” He gave her a pat on the arm before looking over to where Husk was. Their bartender looked about fed up with the string lights, grumbling something to himself they they couldn't catch from how far away he was, “I should probably go help him now,” Lucifer looked up at his daughter, “Be on the lookout for a few Hellhounds carrying raffle baskets in case I’m not done by the time they get here, ok?”

“Ok, you got it dad!” She smiled and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

As he made his way over Lucifer scanned the area in search of two people, one of which wasn't anywhere to be seen. Even though he was out of sight, he could get a sense of where Alastor was now thanks to their deal, something of which he’d have to get used to. Thatres was talking with some of the other newer hotel residents as the group set up chairs around tables. The reptilian-like man locked eyes with him, gave him a toothy grin and waved before returning to his work. Lucifer had to hold back his grimace as he quickened his pace to where Husk was struggling with the tangle of wires, which somehow got caught around his tail.

“Now how in the fuck did I manage–” He looked about ready to start tearing through the wires to escape the jumbled mess before noticing Lucifer standing next to him, “–FUCKIN christ man!” he shouted jumping a few feet off the ground like a startled cat, dragging with him the large tangle of string lights. Angel could be heard laughing at him from across the room.

Before Husk could lose his balance trying to right himself, Lucifer caught one of his arms and helped him up, “Sorry–sorry,” He tried to fight back a laugh at the reaction, reminding him of the time he startled Keekee by placing a cucumber on the ground, “Charlie sent me over to help.”

“You gotta warn a guy next time.” he complained, “Nearly gave me a heart attack, man.”

“That’s my bad, I'm sorry again.” Lucifer chuckled a bit nervously, “But anyways, let’s get these lights untangled and set them up.” He said as he started to unwrap the tangled mess Husk got himself in. 

“Good, the sooner this gets done the sooner I can move on from this embarrassment.” He grumbled as he lifted an arm to help Lucifer untangle the string lights.

These were the kind of lights that dangled down with smaller strings, all rainbow colored. Lucifer didn’t even tease Husk over the fiasco, not being one to say much given the fact he’d been there done that more times than he’d care to admit. Remembering all too well that time when Charlie was little and heard of a human earth holiday called Christmas. She was so excited about it, he didn’t have it in his heart to say no. So that year, as he attempted to unwrap a box of string lights for the tree, things didn’t go as planned, lights got caught up in his wings, and he had to get Lilith's help to untangle them. Then there was the time Charlie wanted a circus themed birthday party and he was tasked with hanging the lights again, and the time Charlie found out about Easter, then there was the Halloween incident—that is to say, he was now wondering if his daughter picked him for this task today for a reason. 

He was finally able to unravel the last part of the lights that originally started this mess, which got tangled around the plumage at the end of Husk’s tail; and laid the cord out flat on the table, “Ok so take two with teamwork.” Lucifer declared, looking up at the area they were to start, “I’m guessing she wants them to go around the entire room?” he asked as he looked at the large stack of boxes of the same lights; noticing next to them were more boxes of multicolored string lantern lights, “Do you know what she wants to do with those ones?” 

“She wants them to go on the rafters.”” Husk pointed up at the wooden beams that went up across the top of the room. There was enough space between the beams and the ceiling that a person could walk on them, with this room having very high ceilings. Attached to them were spotlights and speakers, with their wires held flat and secure on the top part of the beam, “There are also streamers she wants up there with ‘em.” He moved some of the boxes over, revealing the large packs of red and gold streamers.

“Oh joy,” Lucifer sighed before brightening back up, “Well, they’re not going to get up there on their own.” he said, letting his wings unfurled from his back and taking a moment to stretch out the stiff joints, then giving them a test flap, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Some of the new recruits stopped what they were doing to gawk at the display, but he paid them no mind before he grabbed the first set of lights, “What are we using to stick them to the walls?”

Husk grabbed a plastic bag off the ground and pulled out packs of sticky wall hooks, “She didn’t want to use tacks and damage the new walls, so Charlie picked these up this morning.” 

There was a small smile that graced Lucifer’s lips. Not only was his daughter incredibly kind, taking time out of her busy morning to get something for them; she was also considerate enough to think of the damage that could be done to the new walls from something as small as tacks or screws. It was such a small thing, something Lucifer probably wouldn't have thought of himself, that proved time and time again his little girl was the best.

“I’ll carry the lights so they won’t get caught up around your tail if you secure the wall hooks in place.”

“Sounds good to me, I hate those fuckin things.” Husk said as he gave an irritated look to the other boxes of string lights before looping the straps of the plastic bag on is arm.

They made rather quick work of getting the lights all set around the perimeter of the large room, going in a straight line a few inches below where the scaffolding met the walls. From time to time, Lucifer looked down below to keep an eye on Thatres as he helped set up tables with two other residents, who looked to be crow-like. If Lucifer remembered correctly, the two were siblings who died in the same incident; which was a great example of why not to mess with flocks of crows.

The hotel had a total of 6 new recruits, not including Thatres, who still seemed hesitant and intimidated by the group of people running it. They seemed especially weary of Lucifer himself, which was understandable given the reputation he had by those alive. Being told your whole life that you’d be forever tortured by the Devil if you go to Hell had to have some kind of affect on you.

Next on the to-do list for Husk and him was the lantern lights, which needed to be individually popped open before they could put them up; having been flattened and compressed in a small box for shipping. 

The boxes were brought up to the scaffolding, with both men sitting on the sturdy wooden beams that were wide enough to serve as walkways. As they began their work, Lucifer couldn’t help but notice the fact that Alastor was still nowhere to be found. He could get the sense that he wasn’t at the hotel, but had no way of pinpointing him other than a sense of direction and distance when he thought about it. He was getting closer to the hotel, of that he was certain.

“Any idea where Alastor is?” Husk asked him as he untwisted the small wires binding a set of cords in place, “He’s been gone pretty much all morning now. Woulda thought he’d be up and helpin us set up.” He gave the King a curious look.

“Not a clue.” Lucifer only shrugged as he continued to snap the paper lantern part of the lights in place. He slowly kicked his feet. Which were dangling off the side of the beam, back and forth as he worked.

Husk only hummed and nodded his head before looking back at the twist ties, frowning when he realized he’d begun to retwist them in the opposite direction, “I think Charlie said something about him making a trip into the City for something. Go figure he’d leave the hard work for the rest of us.” he said as he focused on untwisting it again and tossing the small piece of plastic covered wire in the box the lights came in, “Though I suppose it’s pretty on brand for him to leave us with the work while he goes off doing who knows what.” he grumbled under his breath.

“Yeah that checks out.” Lucifer replied, eyes scanning over the entire banquet hall from up so high. 

He could see the bar that Husk would be working at during the event, which was located closer to the entrance of the room. It looked a lot nicer and cleaner than the one Alastor set up in the last hotel; that particular eyesore being eradicated was for the greater good. The one in this room was one of two bars in the new Hotel, the other being located in the dining haul and recreation center connected to the front lobby.

The banquet hall was large, with high ceilings and a white, red and gold motif. Its floors were made up of checkered, large, polished gold and red tiles that had an apple in the center of every three tiles. The walls were a stark white with a golden trim. 

Normally he would have been inclined to have the inside color scheme match the darker exterior to fit with the theme, but the point of the hotel was to feel open and welcoming inside; and darker walls and floors make rooms feel so much smaller than they really were.

Across the floor, large round tables were set up with red table cloths that had potted floral centerpieces; which were grown by a small Imp owned business located somewhere in the Wrath ring. The flower itself seemed familiar. It was rose-like, but the center of each had a big eye that he could have sworn blinked at him a few minutes ago. Those would also be end of the night prizes for people to take home with them once the real ones were gone.

There seemed to be a small tension between Husk and him as they began to hang the lantern lights across the underside of the scaffolding; which Lucifer decided not to make a comment on. Once they were done with those, all that was left were the streamers. 

Logically, the way they went about this final leg in the game was to have Husk on the floor carrying the bag of streamers and throwing them up to Lucifer, who would catch them and walk across the scaffolding; draping them in arches along the path the lanterns took. This went well for a good while, with them even making a game out of it. Lucifer did almost fall off the side of one of the beams, only catching himself by using his tail, which came out in a panic, to wrap around the beam. He hung upside down for what felt like minutes, before he scrambled back up the other side of the beam while Husk and a few other hotel guests laughed.

As the chore came to an end, Lucifer noticed Alastor walk into the room; and could see through the large doorway there was a large crowd of people waiting for the event. The two locked eyes, and Alastor gave him a smug look as he spoke with Charlie; who was talking animatedly with him as she looked out the door. She pulled him into a tight hug, and Lucifer couldn't help the irritation that bubbled up inside him. He had a feeling that today would be very long.

Somewhere along the line of him and Husk working, Bee’s people had arrived; as there were now a few Hellhounds standing by the entrance, along with a keg of Beezlejuice and some baskets with candy arrangements on the prize table. 

…

As it would turn out, Alastor had been gone all morning pulling a few strings with citizens from all over Hell’s Pride Ring to make sure the event wasn’t a flop for Charlie’s sake. Over half of the residents of Cannibal Town were present, as well as residents from all over both Pentagram and Imp City. Even without souls under his control right now–well aside from his–Alastor’s reputation alone still carried some weight it would seem.

Every bingo book they had for the event had been sold, and every seat was filled; to the point some guests were standing at tables and others were seated on the floors. On behalf of Charlie, Lucifer was very happy. On behalf of Alastor, Lucifer was very pissed; being outshone at any point he could do so by the man, who was now sitting smugly beside him at the bar as Charlie called out letters. To his irritation, she was using Alastor's staff as the microphone.

His precious daughter even gave every member of the hotel who helped out with the event a free bingo book, which was good for 9 games each. 

“What, are you too good for Bingo?” Lucifer asked the Radio Demon, who was casually sipping a glass of whisky; his Bingo book laying on the counter untouched, with a red marker placed over it.

“I see you aren’t playing either,” Alastor pointed out Lucifer’s book, which was much the same as his own, “Too good to play bingo with the filthy sinners you rule over?” he raised an eyebrow before sipping his drink. 

Lucifer’s brows knit together, “No. I just don’t want to play while there are still big prizes up there. It takes away the incentive for people to even attend if the people running it are just going to take the good stuff.”

“And you assume I’m not playing by those rules as well?” Alastor asked with a smug smile, setting down his glass on the coaster before scanning over the crowd of people, “Truly, you’ve wounded me.” He said in a mocking tone.

“Pshhhh,” Lucifer rolled his eyes before looking across the room to locate a certain other troublesome Overlord, only to find him playing nice with the other Hotel residents at a table towards the back of the room, “I only assume someone like you would be going for the bigger prizes and not settling for creepy flowers.”

“Oh, but there’s beauty in their brutality, is there not?” Alastor asked, “I hear these flowers can only be found in certain rings of hell, favored greatly by the Goetia royal family. They're well known for their carnivorous behavior; commonly used as pest control." he said while looking at Lucifer from the side of his eye, before tacking on, "Or to discard dead bodies.” 

Lucifer turned his attention back on Alastor, who was sitting there smiling like he didn’t just say the most insane shit Lucifer had ever heard. The King was completely speechless as he looked from Alastor to the nearest plant centerpiece, which was located right next to him on the bar. 

The King of Hell made eye contact with the sentient roses, noticing within the leaves there were venus flytrap-like mouths with sharp, serrated teeth. He had half a mind to request switching places with Alastor, but another part of him refused to ask; lest he take more damage to his already hurt pride.

“How do you even know of the Goetia family?” He settled on saying, hoping his moment of hesitation around the plant went unnoticed.

“I’ve been in Hell a long time.” Alastor supplied, “I have connections all over.” somewhere off in the crowd, a few people called Bingo, “Plus, I’ve read the paper. One of the Princes has been in the spotlight a lot as of late.”

Lucifer’s eyes furrowed as he tried to think of which one of Paimon’s boys would be getting into trouble.

As if he could read Lucifer’s mind Alastor continued, “Stolas, I believe his name was. He was almost assassinated a week or so ago, not far off after the Extermination.”

“Paimon has a son named Stolas?” 

“Out of all the information I just gave you, that’s what you choose to pick up on?” Alastor chastised, “Priorities.”

Lucifer frowned at the taller man before the rest of what Alastor had said settled in, “Wait–he was almost assassinated?”

Alastor rolled his eyes, watching as a group of Imps carried the keg of Beezlejuice back to their table triumphantly, “Now it sets in.” 

“Hey!” Lucifer responded, glaring up at the other man.

“It made for a very interesting addition to my broadcast. Fortunately for me, the timing matched up perfectly with when my studio was back up and running.” He said in a cheery tone, as if it wasn’t referring to someone almost getting murdered. 

Choosing to overlook the insane part of what Alastor just said, Lucifer responded, “I didn’t think they could be killed.” There was something haunting in that statement. The Goetia were a very powerful line of bird-like Demons. They were Hellborn, and like the Angelic army, they were thought to be un-killable. 

“I have it on good authority that there are people smuggling Carmilla Carmine’s weaponry out of Pride and into other rings in Hell.” Alastor continued, giving the King a curt smile, “Scary what can happen right under your nose–oh wait,” Alastor chuckled, “I suppose that saying doesn’t quite apply to you. My apologies.” He tacked on in a mocking tone, referring to his lack of one.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” He huffed.

“Ahh but in a way, you just did.” 

Lucifer took a moment to count to 10. He wouldn’t let Alastor get to him; not today of all days. He could do this for Charlie. Looking over at the stage, which was really just 3 steps high, his daughter was thriving. She was given this chance to connect with Hell’s population in a positive and meaningful way, which was something Lucifer was never able to do. She wore his hat proudly, probably having more fun than anyone else in this room as she called out letters into the microphone. Maggie–no Vaggie was right up there with her helping with the distribution of prizes, while Nifty manned the rolling Bingo cage with more gusto than was necessary. 

He was so proud of the woman Charlie grew up to be. It was remarkable to see all of these residents of Hell actually not trying to kill each other for a change. Sure some of them were a bit too rowdy, but with the help of the security they had things settled pretty quickly. 

Lucifer noticed two Imp children scurrying between the tables, nearly tripping over people huddled on the ground drinking and chatting and making marks on their bingo cards, as they made their way to the bar with a few dollars clutched in one of their fists. They had to be no taller than 2 feet each, both with fluffy white hair and the start of black and white horns protruding from their heads.  They had little cloven feet, large bright red eyes, and light pink skin. 

As they approached the bar, the shorter one hopped on the others shoulders so they could reach the counter, “Excuse me mister?” she asked, trying to get Husk’s attention, who was at the opposite end of the counter. His ears twitched and he turned to see the upper half of a little kid poking up over the top of the bar, little arms outstretched on the countertop with a few bills clutched in her hand. 

Husk set the glass he was wiping aside and walked over to greet the little ones, “Hey there, what can I get for you?” He asked her in a lighter voice than he’d use for any adult at the bar. 

“Shirley temple!” the boy holding her up shouted.

“Remmy you have to say please, mom said–”

“Shirley temple please?” Remmy asked.

She looked down at her sibling, “She also said not to–”

“Interrupt people, I know Midna!” He huffed out.

She pouted down at him before looking back up at Husk, “A Shirley temple and a cola, please.” She said politely. Husk gave them an amused smile and nod as he went to get the grenadine, “You see?” she looked down at Remmy, “That’s how you ask someone for something.”

“I get it already, shut up.” He huffed as he looked over to see Lucifer. The little eyes seemed to look at him in amazement, like he just realized who the man next to him was. Lucifer smiled at the kid and gave a little wave, because surely it wasn’t every day you got to see the King of Hell himself. It would be something to tell his class tomorrow, gushing over how cool it was to see the Lucifer Morningstar–

“Why do you look like that?” the kid blurted out; causing Alastor to break out into a fit of laughter at the expense of Lucifer’s now deflated ego. It was a giddy little chuckle that was just quiet enough as to not carry across the room, but loud enough for Lucifer and the other bar patrons to hear.

“ Remmy you can’t just ask people why they look like that!” his sister smacked the top of his head, “Say sorry!”

“What! I didn’t mean nothin by it–” he swatted back up at his sister, “I just thought he would be different ‘s all.”

“You still gotta say sorry, or I’ll tell mom you called Miss Charlie’s dad weird!” Another two shots at his ego.

“Sorry Miss Charlie’s dad. I didn’t mean to call you weird.” Remmy apologized, sounding only a little genuine. A fourth and fifth shot to his ego.

“It’s ok, no harm done.” Lucifer replied; mind now racing, trying to understand what the two meant by he looked weird in the first place. Was there something on his face? Was his hair messy? Was it the fact he wasn't wearing his hat? Was it the hat? Was it?

Husk passed the kids their drinks and took the money, “Here you kids go.” 

“Thank you!” Midna said as she grabbed the two drinks, passing them down to her brother and hopping off his shoulders, “Say thank you too–”

“Thank you too, Mister Cat!” He called up to Husk, before the two scrambled off back through sitting people and tables to where their mother probably was.

“Kids can be brutal.” Husk said in a deadpanned voice to Lucifer, before taking out a cloth and wiping the trail of water left behind by their cups.

“I think I need a drink.” Lucifer grumbled. 

Husk didn’t even need to ask him what he wanted, instead pouring two shots of vodka for them, “You and me both.” He said as he pushed one of the shots in his direction. 

As they threw back their shots, Alastor’s laughter finally died down. Lucifer shot him a glare as he slid the glass back to Husk, “You having a good time there, having a laugh at my expense?” He grumbled.

“Oh certainly.” Alastor responded shamelessly, wiping a tear from his eye. There was a joy lit on his face that neither Lucifer nor Husk had seen before; at least in a manner that wasn’t followed quickly by slaughter and bloodshed. 

As the night went on, and the prize table emptied, all that was left were the flesh eating plants at the center of each table; giving everyone the chance to use up their remaining cards and getting at least some form of prize.

It was at this point that Lucifer decided he needed to win these creepy little plants, if anything more than to prevent Alastor from getting his hands on them first. As the letters and numbers were called out, Lucifer was quick to scan his ticket, glaring at Alastor’s own every time he noticed the other man cross off a box.

“I just need B12, come on now.” Lucifer said out loud to nobody in particular, hoping with every fiber of his being that it would get called out. Was he sweating right now? Over a game of bingo? The King of Hell, Lucifer damned Morningstar, sweating over a game of bingo?

“B–” Lucifer’s ears perked up as he looked to his daughter, hoping like hell the next thing to leave her lips would be 12– “13!”

“Bingo!” Alastor called out, chuckling in amusement as Lucifer practically deflated on the counter; even going so far as to raise his card to show him– taunt him –because he won.

It was ok, because there were still 8 whole cards left. Surely he could still win.

But as the night went on, and Alastor won game 8, then game 7, then game 6; Lucifer started to wonder if there was a way for someone to cheat at bingo? And each time Alastor won, Lucifer was set to win in either one or two ways that round.

“That’s it. No, we’re trading.” Lucifer demanded as he pushed his remaining cards in Alastor’s direction and snatched the other mans for himself.

“If you say so, Miss Charlie’s dad .” Alastor snickered as he crossed out the middle free space on the next sheet. Cluttered by his feet were 4 of the cursed potted plants; their eyes practically boring holes into Lucifer’s soul.

“Yeah ok Bambi .” Lucifer grumbled under his breath. The only tell he got that Alastor heard the insult was the low sound of radio interference that was gone almost as quick as it came. Lucifer smiled to himself, crossing off the center free space before Charlie started the next round.

Game 5 was coming down to the wire, Lucifer was looking between his card and Alastors intently, both 1 number away from winning.

–N29 N29 N29–

“N73!”

“Bingo!” Alastor singsonged, tapping his claws joyfully on the countertop.

“Are you kidding me?!” Lucifer shouted as he slammed his hands down on the counter and stood up on the stool’s footrest to glare down at Alastor’s– his –bingo card, “There’s just no way.” 

To taunt him, Alastor held the book up for him to see closer. Sure enough, it was a win.

“That’s my book–”

“Ah-ah-aaah,” Alastor wagged his finger at Lucifer, “If memory serves, you requested we trade books.” The taller man stood up, now eye to eye with Lucifer, giving him a big toothy grin before making his way over to the stage to get his card checked.

“Can you cheat at bingo?” Lucifer asked Husk, who’d been filling out his own bingo cards not too far off from them, albeit not paying all that much attention to them once the Beezlejuice was off the table.

“I don’t think there’s a way to actually cheat at Bingo, boss.” He shrugged before passing his remaining bingo pages to Lucifer, “I don’t give a shit if I win one of those creepy flower arrangements, you can have em.” 

As Alastor approached with his fifth potted plant, he passed over his remaining pages back to Lucifer, “Here, hopefully you can win something, because at this point I’m embarrassed for you.”

But much to Lucifer's dismay, card after card, not a single win. The night ended on a high note for everyone present but Lucifer, who was frowning down over all his failed bingo sheets. 

As the room began to clear out, Charlie walked up to the bar, holding in her hands one of the flesh eating plant, “Hey dad, I know you really wanted one, so I sort of bought this off the two kids who won it.” She said a bit sheepishly.

“Thank you sweetie, but you didn’t have to do that.” Lucifer said as he accepted the plant from his daughter, “I appreciate it though.” He tacked on with a smile, not having the heart to tell her that he didn’t really want the plant, or the fact he actually found the plant itself rather horrifying; and only wanted to win for the sake of beating Alastor at something.

“You did a lot to help recently, and I wanted to do something to thank you for it.” she chuckled, “I figured a plant was the least I could do for you.” 

As she spoke, he saw the two Imp kids from before following after an older woman, who must have been their mother. They were excitedly chatting between themselves, counting in their hands a solid chunk of money split between the two of them.

“Anything for you, kiddo.” He said as he set the carnivorous plant aside to pull his daughter into a hug.

“Oh also,” she said as she pulled away, “Your hat.” She placed it back on his head and smiled, “Thank you again, dad. And Alastor, thank you for letting me use your mic.” She passed him his staff back.

“Of course, my dear.” The Radio Demon replied as he took it back, giving it a little spin before leaning on it. 

Lucifer grit his teeth, forcing his smile to stay put for his daughter’s sake. For at least the next year, he was stuck with this guy whether he liked it or not. 

For Charlie, do it for Charlie.

…

After the banquet hall was cleared and cleaned, everyone retired to their rooms for the night. Lucifer set the creepy flowers down on his nightstand before making his way to his bathroom. Today had been long, and he was looking forward to actually getting a solid night's sleep; but first he had to go through his routine.

He took a quick shower, then changed into his pajamas; which were gold with thin white strips. He didn’t have the energy in him to do a facemask tonight, but he would still go through his nightly skincare routine. After brushing his teeth, he began to pluck the products he was looking for off his meticulously organized shelf. A moisturizing wash, vitamin e serum, and a night cream. The bare minimum.

Once he was all set in the bathroom, he walked out into his bedroom only to notice a letter on the floor; which was shoved underneath his door to the hallway. Frowning, he bent down and picked it up. 

He didn’t know what to expect when he opened it, but frowned at the sloppy writing on the paper, which said:

'I know about your deal with Alastor.'

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Chapter Text

I know about your deal.

From the moment the letter slid beneath his door, Alastor’s hunt began and ended not long after. Despite the urge to kill the sinner who dared try and pull this stunt, he knew better. 

Currently bound to the chair in his room was one of the Hotel’s newest residents, Baxter. He was an older fellow, and rather rat-like in both appearance and nature; with predominantly red fur aside from a black patch of hair at the top of his head resembling a poor excuse for a comb over, and a wiry handlebar mustache. He wore a white dress shirt and black and white pinstriped knickerbockers held up with black suspenders. 

The urge to spill his blood was there and oh how he’d like to indulge in his more sinister habits; but he’d had his fill that afternoon while recruiting people for the Bingo event. Gathered up a few new deals along the way as well; all lesser sinners, but souls were souls and he had a hunger for power that could never be satiated.

And plus, the quivering man before him had answers . There was no way he would be doing this on his own, not when he folded the second Alastor caught him. 

Baxter was a tiny thing, around Nifty’s height if not a bit taller. His arms were bound to his chest with the entire upper half of his body completely wrapped in black vines which sprouted up at each foot of the plush armchair. His short legs, long black and red striped tail, and thin gangly rat feet just barely made it to the edge of his seat. 

For all it was worth, the man was rather pitiful; looking up at Alastor with the fear of God in his eyes. Silently praying that his life would be spared and he could be on his way. Of course, he didn’t know he would live through this; but the suspense he was held in would surely give him reason to not cross him again once he was released. 

A gramophone in the corner of Alastor’s room was playing an acrylic record, with the musical stylings of Jack Teagarden’s: Junk Man filling the silence, mixed with the cacophony of crickets chirping in the newest addition to Alastor’s room. It was a light, plucky little jazz song that always seemed to put his mind at ease. Something that brought out the more reasonable side of him.

The song, it would seem, didn’t do much for his new little friend; who looked on the verge of soiling himself the longer the silence between them went on. Outside of the fearful trembling, his movements had stilled. No kicking or squirming or fighting his restraints, having learned that doing so would only result in the restraints tightening. Much like a boa constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey before consuming it. 

Alastor let the silence between the two drag on, knowing all too well the power of holding one’s prey in suspense; reminding him of the good old days back on earth. This one not being nearly as satisfying as his time alive, where his real targets were actually a threat. It gave Baxter time to contemplate any and every way Alastor could kill him. Would it be quick and painless? Or long and drawn out, making him wish he’d never been born in the first place.

While he waited, Alastor took the time to tend to his new collection of carnivorous hell plants. He doted on one in particular, which he sat on the end table directly next to Baxter, using a pair of sharp red scissors to trim off any damaged or dead leaves. The sound of the blades gliding effortlessly together was like music to his ears. 

Using a beautiful new trick he’d gained from the deal he’d made with Lucifer, he manifested a small cut of raw venison in his hand and fed it to one of the sharp-toothed mouths on the plant. He watched from the corner of his eyes as Baxter began to sweat nervously; delighting in the way the rodent-like man’s beady black eyes observed the three mouths on the plant fighting for a piece of the cut; making quick work of shredding and consuming the venison, leaving nothing behind. 

“Good girls.” Alastor said in a low but fond voice as he scratched the top(?) of one of their heads, in much the same manner one would with a cat or dog. 

When the song finally came to an end, there was a hopeful glint in his captives eyes; which died out almost as soon as a new one crackled to life from the gramophone's horn. This was a brassy tune by the name of I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues. 

There would be more songs for him to sit through, and Alastor was willing to let this record run through completely as many times as it took for Lucifer to get over here. It wouldn’t be long, of that Alastor was certain; as the short King was already closing the distance from one end of the hotel to the other. 

Alastor was positive he wasn’t the only one to get a funny little letter so late at night, and that he wouldn’t be the only other poor soul here awake late enough to read it. 

…

Lucifer opened his door to peer out into the hallway, checking both left and right before closing it again. With a tired sigh, he trudged his way back into his bathroom to grab his bathrobe, red and silky, with poofy black trim around the neckline, wrists and hemline. Was it a bit extra? Yes. Was it stolen from Lilith? No. Did Lucifer deliberately pick the garment out for himself? Yes. 

He knew he'd probably have to make his way across the hotel, being too mentally tired to conjure up a little transportation magic; and his bathrobe was the only thing he could think of that had pockets. It also didn’t match his pajamas in the slightest, but he would also be taking no criticism. It was a damn nice robe, and his sense of fashion was immaculate.  

Lucifer stepped into his matching red slippers, then grabbed the letter, his phone and room card, stuffed them in his robe pocket, then made his way to the door. Before leaving his suite he turned around to check the room for anything out of place, then unfortunately made eye contact with the creepy plant on his bedside table. It sent a shiver down his spine, encouraging him to make his departure from the room all the quicker. 

The halls were quiet and dimly lit, with the wall sconces in the area turned off on the upper few floors of the hotel. For the time being it just made sense to not have the hall lights on in the two top floors in the building. After all, only Lucifer and Alastor had any form of residence up here, and both had relatively decent eyesight in the dark. Why keep lights on that served next to no purpose, aside from being an eventual nuisance when time came to change the lightbulbs?

The only form of light was cast in through the windows on the front outermost hall, red tinted light casting long shadows across the floor and up the walls. It gave the halls an eerie sort of tension, and it felt unsettling. 

In an effort to lighten the mood, Lucifer began to whistle the tune of a nursery rhyme he sang to Charlie when he carried her. This, unfortunately for him, only made his trip all the more creepier as the sound only echoed down the empty hallway; like the song of a spirit that was forever trapped in the walls of this hotel. The only other accompanied sound was that of his slippers scuffing along the carpeted floor as he dragged his feet.

He felt the presence of eyes on him. It brought with it a feeling that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His steps got a little quicker. And no the King of Hell was not scared. He didn’t know what he was, but scared wasn’t it. He looked too good in his nice robe for that.

The distance between his and Alastor’s room was a solid 10 minute walk, with their towers being on the exact opposite ends of the hotel. At the time of construction, it was a solid idea to put as much distance between himself and the smiling lunatic as possible. Right now though, he had a few regrets. 

As his pace quickened, the sound of his slippers scuffing against the carpet grew louder; which he didn’t particularly care about, until the thought occurred to him that the more noise he made, the easier it would be for someone to sneak up on him. As his pace slowed again, he could hear a light skittering on the carpet behind him causing him to whip his head around and look—only to see nothing. Just an empty hall, nothing to worry about.

“Lucifer, you're losing it.” He spoke to himself as he shook the silly thought from his head and turned back to face in front of him. But before he could continue his journey onward, he saw a small black form darting towards him, causing him to shout, jump back and fall to the ground as he tripped over his own two feet. His wings unfurled from his back, his tail lashed out and his horns sprouted from his head with a flame roaring to life between them on instinct, as he landed flat on his ass. Fight or flight instincts kicked in for the briefest of moments, only to feel incredibly stupid as Keekee, the family pet, happily trotted up to him and nudged her head against his leg.

“Keekee you can’t be doing that, you nearly scared me to death.” He chastised the one eyed cat-like creature as he gave her a pat on the top of her head. He reverted back to his regular form, and got to his feet, scooping her up and letting her perch on his shoulder. She got nice and comfortable nestled down into the fluff on his robe, letting her tail wrap over Lucifer’s shoulder and around the curve of his neck. 

As he continued on his journey to Alastor’s room, he still couldn’t shake the feeling like he was being watched. He remained calm though. He wasn’t about to make himself look like a fool two times in a row. He had to hold some semblance of his pride intact. He was the King of Hell damn it!

He’d also have to make a mental note to check the cameras in that hallway tomorrow. He had to erase the evidence that he utterly embarrassed himself, to the highest degree, over a small and gentle house pet. 

As Lucifer finally came up to Alastor’s door, he could hear the soft and crackly sound of music. It had a plucky string instrument accompanied by brassy horns and trumpet, all coming together to form a fun jazzy tune. It was the kind of music Lucifer would listen to in the morning, cooking breakfast for a younger Charlie and his ex-wife Lilith. Back when things were simpler and lighter for the Morningstar family. 

If the music was anything to go by, maybe the Radio Demon wasn’t such a bad guy. Maybe there was something genuinely human still left in him?

As Lucifer reached up to knock, Alastor opened the door for him, letting the music flood the hallway uninhibited, “It took you long enough—” he began before his eyes got a look at the way he was dressed, “Lucifer what in the Hell are you wearing?” The taller man stared down at the King with unimpressed amusement; his right eye twitching slightly as if Lucifer's clothing were personally offending him. Alastor himself hadn’t changed his clothes from what he wore that day. 

Lucifer just frowned up at the man who was unfortunately his partner now for the next 364 days, “You rag on me last night for not wearing my pajamas, and now you rag on me tonight for wearing them.” He complained as he walked past him and into the room, “Pick a damn side.”

The sight Lucifer was met with upon entering the Radio Demons room had him almost instantly taking back his prior thought, that this man could be normal in any form; as the scene before him was like something out of a psychological horror movie. The light, happy jazz music playing from the gramophone by the door juxtaposed to everything else gave off strong serial killer energy. Then he remembered who’s room it was and it checked out. 

What was once a normal, standard hotel room was transformed with some type of magic Lucifer wasn’t familiar with. The wall adjacent to the door was gone, planks of wood removed and opening the room up to what looked like a swampy marshland, with tall trees and the sound of running water and crickets chirping. The actual room aspect of the hotel suite was more of a sitting room, with a lit fireplace, bookshelves filled with trinkets, books and animal skeletons. Picture frames were all over the walls, most of which were newspaper clippings of important events happening in Hell. There was a set of spiral steps that led both up to the second floor, which was likely his radio studio judging from the ‘On Air’ light that hung from the ceiling with a little arrow pointing upward, and down to the lower floor, which judging by this room's lack of bed was where he slept. 

Did Alastor sleep? He shook the thought from his head as he noticed the other person in the room, a rodent-like man who was securely strapped to one of the armchairs with black vines. He looked to be on the verge of either crying his eyes out, pissing his pants in fear, or both. On a table next to him sat a few of those creepy plants, with the others scattered along the line where the room met the woods.

“Explain.” Lucifer deadpanned as Alastor shut the door.

“Since you’re here, I can assume you got a letter as well?” Alastor moved to stand next to the King, “I saw a letter slide under my door, threw it open and caught our good man Baxter here in the act.” Alastor had an expression like a proud cat who was presenting its master with a dead animal.

Lucifer pulled his own letter from one of his robe pockets and offered it up to Alastor, “Yeah, but I was unsure when mine got slid under the door. I was getting out of the shower when I noticed it.” 

The music in the background continued to play, a male singer now joining in:

‘Ain’tcha glad we were made up for each other?

Ain’tcha glad that we waited for each other?

We agreed, possibly 

Life is just a symphony 

In perfect harmony!’ 

As the man sang on, it occurred to Lucifer that the music might be simply to taunt the poor soul strapped to the chair. The man in question was looking to the King in silent prayer, hoping he would do something and free him.

Personally, Lucifer wasn’t so thrilled that this man felt the need to send them what? Some sort of threat? He wasn’t sure what this guy’s angle was, but whatever it was, he wasn’t amused. He would like the deal made between him and Alastor to be kept under wraps for as long as they could manage. It was for a multitude of reasons: Not wanting Charlie to worry being at the top of the list. But there was also an advantage for him to keep it secret. The other Overlords might not be as inclined to speak freely around Alastor, if they found out Lucifer owned his soul.

“Two different hand writings.” Alastor stated as he showed Lucifer both letters, with Alastor’s own being written in neat cursive, compared to the messy words scratched out on Lucifer’s, “So there’s at least one more person in cahoots here. But since you were unfortunately preoccupied at the time your letter slipped under your door, the second partner in crime is unknown.” 

“L-l-listen sirs, I swear I don’t know nothin–” Baxter stuttered out in an accent similar to Angel’s, “I know it ain’t lookin so good, but please–” His words came to a stop as Alastor simply stared down at the man, unblinking and so plain it looked unnatural. 

Lucifer sighed tiredly, both the lack of sleep last night, coupled with the long day he had today; he was beat. Oh how he looked forward to a nice night's sleep tonight. But evidently he’d be playing interrogation with Alastor till who knows when, because someone was trying to make a threat that would have their little secret outed not even two full days in.

Keekee stood up on Lucifer’s shoulders and stretched, letting out a big yawn before hopping down and rubbing up against his leg. Lucifer yawned as well before speaking, “This is going to be long. Al, you have any tea?”

The Radio Demon scrunched up his nose in distaste, “No, I’m not fond of it myself. I can get you coffee.”

Lucifer sighed before making his way over to the other armchair and plopping himself down, Keekee following only to curl up in front of the fire. With the snap of his fingers, a cup of tea poofed into existence on the coffee table between him and Baxter. He grabbed the piping hot cup of oolong, kicked off his slippers and shifted in the seat so his back was resting against one arm and his legs were draped over the other. 

Alastor just rolled his eyes at the borderline childish display before following him to the chair, where he leaned back and sat against the arm Lucifer’s legs were over. Lucifer absently noted the contact Alastor’s fluffy red and white deer tail made with his ankle. Not as soft as he would have thought.

Lucifer carefully blew on the cup in his hands before asking bluntly, “What’s your angle here?” 

Baxter’s beady black eyes were locked on Alastor, like prey having a stare down with the predator hunting it. Lucifer looked up at his partner and raised an eyebrow. Alastor, to his credit, wasn’t actually doing anything but making unwavering eye contact and smiling at the man. His tail even started to wag a slowly. Creepy still, but harmless nonetheless.

Lucifer snapped his fingers in Baxter’s general direction to get him to pay attention, “Cooperate and you can be on your way.” the King said, “We just need answers.” Alastor’s tail stopped wagging.

“I was just told to write that down and slide it under the door, I swear on my mom’s life I don’t even know what this deal you have even is.” Alastor’s ears knocked back and his eyebrows dipped down in a heavy glare. The record began to skip one-two-three times before resuming with the song. 

“You were told to both write and deliver the note? By who?” Alastor asked, a note of agitation in his voice, his tail now waging with a vengeance. Lucifer kept a careful eye on the taller man, a tad bit confused because Alastor’s mood shift seemed to come out of nowhere. He scooted his cloven feet farther away from Alastor's tail, the coarse hair tickling his ankles as it moved. 

“I-I-I’m sorry Mr. Alastor Sir—I can’t say who.” 

“You won’t say it? But you expect us to buy your story?” Lucifer pointed out before taking a sip of his tea.

“I can’t say, I’m sorry.” Baxter shifted uneasy in his chair before the restraints tightened in warning. He seemed genuine in what he was saying, but anyone can make something sound genuine enough if they tried.

Alastor’s tail slowed and his ears twitched before perking back up to their normal position, “And what of this other person? Are there any more involved with this?” The Radio Demon asked.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who this other guy is. I wish I had more answers for you sir I do—please don’t kill me!” He pleaded. 

Maybe it was the amount of time he’d been down here in Hell that made him so jaded, but Lucifer could only roll his eyes as he looked down at the hot tea in his mug, “Like I said already. The sooner you cooperate the sooner we can send you on your way.” The King of Hell looked back over to Baxter, “But things may not go so kindly next time around if I find out you’re lying.” Lucifer spoke in a chilling tone. Not that he actually would bring harm to him, but the implication over Baxter’s head would surely serve him well. 

The rat-like sinner swallowed thickly, eyes darting from Lucifer to Alastor and back, fear reflected in them. 

“So if you’re doing this for someone, why?” Lucifer continued, “What do you have to gain from it?”

“Security.” He replied hesitantly.

“Is that not part of the reason you’re at the hotel in the first place?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“Before the hotel, I needed security. Sir I promise I feel plenty safe–” he started before looking at Alastor and paused, “The hotel is safer.” Baxter ended on, looking back to the King of Hell.

“So why continue helping this person?”

“Likely, his soul belongs to them.” Alastor answered for Baxter before he could give them another ‘I can’t say’ response, “It isn’t uncommon for a sinner of lower status to form deals with an Overlord in exchange for the promise of protection in one way or another.”

“Yes, that Sirs!” The sinner responded, nodding and wiggling his feet to emphasize his point. 

Lucifer gave Alastor a puzzled look, “But who would send these letters then?”

Alastor just looked down at him incredulously, “All due disrespect, because I genuinely cannot fathom the fact you need to be asking that question, but who in this hotel would have some sort of grudge against us?”

“Excuse you?” Lucifer glared up at Alastor, taking an embarrassingly long time to connect the dots before it dawned on him, “Oh, Thatres, yeah that.”

“Thank you for keeping on track.” His partner said sarcastically before turning his attention back to their captive, “So he thinks he can play games, this should be fun.” He snapped his fingers and the vines released him before sinking back into the floor, leaving nothing behind, “You may go.” He said flatly as he pushed off the arm of the chair to lead him out.

“Thank you sirs, I’m so sorry for the trouble, thank you.” Baxter said as he hopped off the chair to follow the Radio Demon out the door.

“I hope this goes without saying, Baxter, but it’s within your best interest that this incident stays between the three of us here.” Alastor said before opening the door and gesturing for him to leave, “Oh, and one more thing.” Alastor bent down to make eye contact with the much shorter sinner, the sound of radio interference crackled to life in the room, and his antlers grew like tree branches atop his head, “Don’t you ever swear anything on your mother’s life again. Do I make myself clear?”

“C-c-crystal sir!” he stuttered out, tremoring in place outside the door.

“Lovely.” He responded curtly before shutting the door in his face. The sound of radio interference died down, and Alastor’s form changed back to normal as he turned his attention over to Lucifer, who was still as comfortable as can be in the arm chair.

With an arched eyebrow, Lucifer asked, “Momma's boy?”

Alastor scoffed, “The poor woman carried that sorry excuse of a sinner for nine months, she deserves a little more respect than that.”

“Right. Momma's boy.” he concluded.

Not even denying it, Alastor walked over to the other chair. Before sitting down, the Radio Demon pulled a can of disinfectant out of thin air and sprayed down the seat; careful to not get his plant in the crossfire before sitting it down, “All that work, all for him to end up in Hell. She must be so disappointed.”

Lucifer would have made a joke about the irony of that statement, but his eyes were locked on the can of disinfectant, completely puzzled by it, “How did you just do that?”

Alastor looked at the can as well, “What do you mean?” He was equally puzzled.

“I might not be active in Hell much, but last I checked that’s only something I could do. So how did you just do that?” He questioned further.

“You really don't have any idea how ownership of souls works.” He gave Lucifer a disbelieving look, “Since I own your soul, I also own your powers, in a sense. The same way you own mine. It’s why you almost never see an Overlord selling their own soul to anyone else; let alone to another Overlord.”

Genuinely curious, Lucifer sat upright, careful not to spill his tea, “So wait, you can do everything I can do?”

“Yes, as I said–”

“Turn into an animal!” He demanded, excited to see how his characteristics would transfer over from what he was now to something like a bird or cat.

“No.” Alastor denied almost instantly, “Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on Al!” Lucifer early insisted, “You look stupid, don’t you? Is that why?” He questioned. Lucifer’s siblings, the other archangels, could also shapeshift; and some of their more amusing characteristics would transferred over. Like his brother Micheal, who was always so serious. When he shapeshifted, his stern expression would always carry through, creating the first time Lucifer had ever seen a sparrow deeply frowning. Which is something hard to do in the first place, because bird beaks just weren't able to move like that.

It’d been a while since he’d thought of them. Back then, before things got so complicated and Lilith and him were cast down to Hell, he was Samael. Not a name he was too fond of anymore; and besides, he felt like Lucifer fit him much better.

“I couldn’t look any dumber as an animal than you right now in that ridiculous robe.” Alastor shot back, “I’m not going to. Not unless I really have to.”

“Oh you’re no fun.” Lucifer said before sticking his tongue out at him, now contemplating what situation would constitute as an ‘I have to’ moment. He’ll have to brainstorm on that later.

Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose, “As much as I’m sure you’d love to prattle on about your childish ideas, I feel like there are more pressing matters that need to be discussed.”

“Oh, yeah.” Lucifer took a sip of his tea before reaching over to set it on the coffee table, “What to do about Thatres.”

“Unfortunately for our sake, Thatres found out about us making a deal.” Alastor began,  “If that’s the case, he was likely in the vicinity of your tower when it went down. That leads me to assume that he could be following either of us around at any given moment; and what doesn’t sit well with me is the fact we wouldn’t know it.”

“Can’t you morph into shadows or something?” Lucifer asked as he looked at the Radio Demon’s shadow, which seemed plain as can be. If they could do that, moving place to place undetected would be no problem.

“I could. ” Alastor replied, “But that ability came from one of the three Overlords I had in my possession prior to my fight with Adam; and even more unfortunate for us is the fact that she was the most sadistic of the three.”

“You said earlier that an Overlord wouldn’t sell their soul to anyone else, let alone another Overlord. How did you get her power in the first place?”

“With my background when I was alive, I was quite the influential radio host. Because of my prior line of work, some abilities were enhanced upon entering Hell. Because of this, I can control radio waves, as well as manipulate anything audio.” Alastor began to explain, “I discovered a loophole of sorts around making deals for their souls, which both puts them out of commission as well as granting me ownership of their abilities. By beating them down within an inch of their lives, I can weaken them enough to trap their soul’s in one of my many broadcasts.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal.

“So right now, we have two Overlords unaccounted for." Lucifer began to count on his fingers, "Thatres is essentially untouchable because of Charlie, he has ownership of at least 1 of the residents' souls, and also knows about our deal. What’s his goal here then?”

Alastor thought for a moment, “He knows we made a deal, but I wonder if he knows what the deal we made was for. He may have sent Baxter and this other mystery person to write and deliver those notes in hopes that at least one would get captured, and we'd slip up on information assuming they already knew it. We gave the little rodent no information worth using, so his plan on that front failed.” Alastor went on, “But now he gave away the fact he knows there was a deal made between you and I; so the element of surprise is gone on both sides. If my theory is correct, of which I’m quite certain, he’ll likely be in a stand still until he figures out the exact details of our deal.”

Lucifer sat on that information for a moment before speaking up, “Ok, so what’s your goal?”

“My goal?” Alastor asked.

“Yes.” Lucifer affirmed, “What do you aim to get from our deal? While you’re injured, you can’t fight at full capacity like you would have back then; even with my own powers at your command.”

Alastor’s eyebrows knit down in irritation before responding, “With your powers, I should be plenty strong enough to take them on in a fight–”

“Until a blow lands on your chest. Then what?” The King of Hell arched an eyebrow.

“They won’t get close enough–”

“Unless they do. You didn’t expect Adam to hit you either, and that arrogance got you into the mess you're in right now.” Lucifer knew that was a low blow, but Alastor needed to see reason here. If Alastor went off and got himself killed, Charlie would be devastated; and Lucifer would actually have to sit and read through more legal papers and information than he was mentally capable of. 

The Radio Demon was silent for a long moment. There was no outward reaction to what Lucifer had said; which was odd since Lucifer had come to expect the sort of thing at this point. No radio interference, no growing antlers or green symbols. Just quiet. 

This somehow made Lucifer even more nervous; because he knew what to expect with Alastor’s temper, this situation was entirely unknown.

“Listen,” Lucifer broke the silence, “I don’t mean to come across as harsh here. I know first hand that Pride can be a person’s downfall; especially when no compromise can be met. You have to think in the realm of reality and accept help when you need it.”

“Oh, and you’re the expert on living in reality and accepting help?” Alastor finally snapped.

“No, but at least I’m trying.” Lucifer shot back, matching Alastor’s unwavering and intense glare, “If I can sit down and admit when I’m in over my head, you can too. I’m not just the King of Hell, I’m the Sin of Pride; and there’s no better example of why it’s important to think before you bite off more than you can chew, than me.”

There was a heavy tension in the air as they continued their stair down. The music from the record came to a stop, the sound of crickets chirping died down, and the sound of water dissipated, creating a deafening silence.

Eventually, Alastor spoke up, “So what? You suggest I embarrass myself further by needing the King of Hell to help me fight my battles? Become a laughing stock to all the other Overlords in Hell’s Pride Ring?” He asked disbelieving.

Lucifer let out an indignant huff, “You act like publicity with me fighting at your side would ruin your image. Did it ever occur to you that there might be some weight to that? Being allies with the King of Hell?”

“You don’t understand a lick about how Hell functions, do you?” Alastor spat back, “Needing help at all is a sign of weakness, especially pertaining to the Overlords. If you need help, you are seen as incapable of defending yourself. Who’s going to trust their soul to someone who can’t even take care of themselves?”

“And that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You would rather go out there and die in a fight than have my help.”

“Yes, because at least then–”

“At least then you’ll look like a total loser who was killed because he couldn't fight his own battles anyways.” Lucifer cut him off, “Either way, they’ll still think you’re weak. At least with one of those two options, you get to make them eat their words after the fact.” Lucifer paused for a moment to take in Alastor’s irritated expression, “As much as it pains me to admit it, you aren’t a weak person, Alastor. Your current situation is only momentary, and when you’re back to full strength you can set things right.”

“With how much you seem to worry about my life, one would think you actually cared about me.” Alastor mocked.

Lucifer scoffed, “Get off your high horse already. As much as I dislike your company, you’re important to Charlie.” He said with some disdain in his voice, “You didn’t see her reaction when she thought you’d died, but I did. Everyone did.” he took a deep breath, “I love my daughter, and I would do anything for her. Even if that means I have to put up with your insufferable shtick for the rest of my immortal life.” he paused for a moment before tacking on, “And plus, someone has to help me understand the politics going on in this Ring, and Hell knows I can’t do that on my own.”

“Ok,” Alastor said, “And if we go your route of fighting together, how will that look for me at Overlord meetings? If they suspect I’m working for you, what then? The only reason people still trust me at those meetings, even though I’m now affiliated with the hotel, is because they think I don’t care!”

“But you don’t.” Lucifer said.

“I,” Alastor hesitated for a moment, “I didn’t…” He admitted quietly, “I wasn’t actually… In the beginning I…”

“Why did you come to the hotel then?” Lucifer cut in.

Alastor was quiet again, not the same as before. No. This silence was a genuine spiral for him, different emotions reflecting in his red eyes, all conflicting and confusing in their own right. Then with a tired sigh, the Radio Demon hunched forward and buried his face in his hands, ears drooping as he did so. It was somewhat of an honor that Alastor could even show emotion like this around him. Either that or just a fortune, since both men were so utterly exhausted. A look at the clock on the fireplace mantel told Lucifer it was 3:42am.

“Listen, it doesn’t matter.” Lucifer said, “Things are different now. You can tell me, or not; as long as you keep my daughter safe.” He gave Alastor an easy out.

After a moment, Alastor responded “What do you suppose we do?” Came his muffled voice, taking the out.

“If they see you and I fight together, things might not look good. But,” Lucifer began, “If we frame things just right, we can make all of Hell think of it as competition.”

Alastor looked up to give the King an incredulous look.

Lucifer took that as a positive sign and continued, “If I remember it right, I think I heard someone say on the radio once, ‘The world is a stage, and a stage is a world of entertainment!’ “ He proclaimed as he hopped up on the coffee table, careful not to knock anything over in the process, “Everyone at the hotel already thinks we're in a rivalry, so it wouldn't be hard to spin it to the rest of Hell, right?” He asked as he bent down to be at eye level with the sinner.

Alastor’s right eye twitched slightly, “And you said you've never heard of my broadcast." he muttered before continuing, "Please refrain from jumping on tables,” he paused for a moment, “And also, how am I supposed to take anything you say seriously when you're dressed like that?” Alastor questioned.

Lucifer only grinned triumphantly, “I didn’t hear a no. So I’ll take that.” He responded as he hopped off the table, his cloven feet clacking on the tile floor as he marched back over to his chair and sat down.

“I suppose you’re right.” Alastor sat back up, looking exhausted.

“What was that?” Lucifer asked, “I don’t think I caught that.” 

“You will never hear me utter those words to you again.” Alastor replied, “Maybe it's time to get your ears checked? Hearing loss is a sign of old age.”

“Oh shut up.” Lucifer shot back before snickering.

The music began to play anew on the gramophone. 

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Chapter Text

Like most days at the Hotel since the extermination, it was very busy for Charlie Morningstar. The inside of her and Vaggie’s bedroom was a mess of scrapped letters she’d begun writing to thank the kind donors who pitched in for their Bingo night fundraiser, along with ones for the rest of the hotel residents for helping make everything yesterday run as smoothly as it did.

There was also more glitter present than was strictly normal. 

A lot more.

“Babe I’m sorry, the old letters were fine I didn’t mean to make you redo them all.” Vaggie tried to persuade the Princess of Hell to not put more work on her shoulders than she already had.

“No no,” Charlie responded, mid-way through writing a letter to Beelzubub, “You were right about the glitter, I used too much and the letters turned into a glitter bomb. These are to thank them, not inconvenience them.”

Vaggie sighed before pulling up a chair to Charlie’s desk and grabbed a pen and paper herself, “If you insist, then the least I can do is help you re-write them.” 

Charlie looked up from her work to give her girlfriend a warm smile, “Thank you, Vaggie. For everything you do.” She leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek before continuing.

“How many letters do we have to write?” The fallen angel asked.

“Only…” Charlie looked over at the mess of envelopes and glitter that now overflowed her waist paper basket, “116.” She concluded after a moment of consideration.

“Charlie, that’s going to take so long. Don’t forget you have the morning group exercise in what?” Vaggie checked her phone for the time, “An hour and a half?”

Charlie sighed, “I do, but I can’t just shirk off this task. This was the hotel’s first big public project. We raised so much money for Kril Elementary School in Imp City, think about what we could do later down the line? If we don’t show our appreciation to everyone helping then–”

“Ok wait babe,” Vaggie cut her off before she would get lost in a speech, “How about I stay here and write these letters for you, while you go downstairs and get the ball rolling with this mornings exercise?”

She looked hesitant, “Are you sure Vaggie? That’s a lot of work for just you.”

“Oh come on, Charlie you did this yourself last night, so I could make the same argument for you.” Vaggie stood up, “Let me handle this, and I’ll meet you downstairs when they're done.”

Charlie stood up and scooped her girlfriend into a big hug, “Thank you so much Vaggie, I love you so much!”

Vaggie hugged her back before being set back down, “I love you too Charlie.” She smiled, pulling the Princess of Hell in for a small kiss, “Now scoot, you have a busy day.”

…

Consciousness came to Lucifer slowly; curled up in a space that wasn’t his large and luxurious bed, head resting at an uncomfortable angle on something stiff and solid. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open and let out a large, sleepy yawn. 

This wasn’t his room, and this wasn’t a bed he was sleeping on. The King of Hell let out a miserable groan as he shifted in the armchair he didn’t remember falling asleep in; his fingers gripping a plush red throw blanket as he pulled it further around himself and curled up tighter, face now buried against the back of the chair. It didn’t matter that this was the most uncomfortable place he’d probably ever slept in, he just wanted 5 more minutes. 

Somewhere through the few hours he’d been asleep in Alastor’s strange sitting room, he’d managed to get tangled in his robe; which in turn bunched up his pajama shirt around his chest and armpits. Between the 3 layers of fabric, his body was warm and uncomfortably clammy. Every part of this situation was not ideal; leaving Lucifer to wonder what he was doing with his life. 

Bits and pieces of his conversation with Alastor last night were coming to him; and muddled with the delirium of exhaustion and the vague memory of the dream he had, he was questioning what was and wasn’t said.

Did Alastor tell him he was a vegetarian, and wanted to open up Hell’s first ever fully vegetarian Cat Cafe? There was this cookbook he pulled out of who knows where, full of vegetarian based recipes passed down from his grandfather to his father, then to him? A family tradition full of veggie frittatas and cranberry walnut pancakes?

Wait no, Alastor hated his dad, so the Cat Cafe was definitely a dream. Which was a bit of a relief because Lucifer didn’t want to debate the ethics of feeding cats a vegetarian diet. 

Oh and also Alastor ate people, so that might have been his first que to the authenticity of the idea. Definitely nothing vegetarian about that. 

Lucifer had to consciously stop himself from snickering at the thought that Alastor would be anything but a psychopath. The guy had a hotel resident fully bound to a chair last night for an interrogation. Even going so far as to play light jazz music for some sort of serial killer ambiance. But then again, Lucifer was also a participant of the incident, so what did that make him?

Damn.

The King of Hell cracked his eyes open once more, training them on the red cretonne upholstery his face was pressed up against. He used the knuckle of his pointer finger to trace over the dips and loops of the gold flowery pattern, the smooth embroidered design feeling ever so slightly different from the rest of the thick fabric. Doing anything and everything but getting up and going to his own room to get ready for the day. 

His ears picked up the sound of a door opening from up above, followed by heeled shoes coming down steps, making Lucifer still his movements. 

“Ok you’ve been out long enough.” Alastor chastised under his breath as he approached the chair the King of Hell was curled up on. The lights in the room flipped on, assaulting his tired eyes with bright warm orange light, “Come on, up up up.” Alastor commanded, clapping his hands loudly.

“Nooo…” Lucifer’s voice was muffled against the back of the seat.

“No whining like a child.” Alastor’s said as the radio on the bookshelf next to him turned on, and Katie Killjoy’s sarcastic voice began to prattle through the crackly speakers:

“—gas station caught fire due to the negligence of a dickhead smoking at the pump. Local crackhead, Morison Morris, says he was there just getting a .98$ coffee at the time of the event.”

“I guess you could say his morning was off to an explosive start!”

“Shut the fuck up Tom—”

Irritably, Lucifer peered over the armrest at the radio and grumbled, “Please stop.” And the radio did just that. Thank you Alastor for the fun new power he held.

“Oh and I bet you think you’re rather cheeky.” Alastor said in a mock-congratulatory tone, “But really, it's 7:30am and Charlie expects us down at 8am sharp for the start of today's activities.”

Lucifer let out a long, tired sigh, “Just 5 more minutes.” He complained, not really registering the words coming out of Alastor’s mouth.

“As flattered as I am that you seem to be so dedicated to staying in my room, you need to get up and go to your own to get ready.”

“Fine fine, I’m up.” He grumbled miserably as he righted himself,  “When did I even fall asleep?” 

“Some time around 4:13am, I believe. Mid sentence you passed out, I was very impressed.” Alastor went on as he watched Lucifer close his eyes and slouch back in the chair, the King of Hell frowning deeply. Alastor walked over to chair Lucifer was still seated miserably in and took the plush red throw blanket off him in one fell swoop, all but pulling Lucifer off the chair and stumbling on his feet, “You now have less than 25 minutes to get to your room, get dressed and be down in the lounge before Charlie starts the day off without you.” He stated as he folded up the blanket and set it on the other seat.

With it finally registering in his brain how little time he actually had, Lucifer frantically searched for his slippers— “They’re by the door, now shoo.” Alastor grabbed the shorter man by the shoulders and pushed him in the right direction.

Lucifer jammed his feet into the slippers before swinging open the door to make his leave; and as he dead-sprinted down the hall, he didn’t notice their resident housekeeper by Alastor’s door inspecting the fresh new claw marks carved into the carpet. Niffty, however, noticed him running and completely disheveled in his nightwear. 

Her interest in the claw marks dragging back to Alastor’s door was now gone, and in its place grew gleeful speculation over what Lucifer was doing spending the night with Alastor. As her large red and yellow eye watched the King of Hell stumble over his slippers, almost face planting in the hallway before catching himself again and continuing his sprint, she let out a devious giggle before running back down the other way and crawling into an open air vent in the wall she’d scurried out of originally. Her quickest form of transportation. 

…

With still 10 minutes to spare, Alastor was in the Hotel lounge’s kitchen; preparing himself a cup of black coffee, as well as a cup of Earl Grey tea for Lucifer more out of pity than anything else. That chair couldn’t have been comfortable to sleep on, nor the position he’d contorted himself into over the span of 3 hours. Alastor himself was dead tired, but outwardly he looked as if nothing was the matter; keeping up appearances was a must if you wanted to survive long in hell.

Outside of being very tired, after two nights in a row of next to no sleep, his body felt relatively ok. The wound on his chest was hardly giving him any trouble unless something bumped into it or he turned the wrong way, and his energy was back up to snuff thanks to his deal with Lucifer. The strength he’d gained from making a deal with such a powerful being really went a long way. He’d never tell Lucifer that though; didn’t need him getting a big head over it or anything.

Once he had his cup of coffee, and Lucifer’s tea set and steeping, he took the cups and made his way out into the lounge. 

Charlie was there preparing the exercise of the day; which would be more art-centric judging by the stacks of papers, boxes of colored pencils and crayons, as well as the glue bottles, containers of glitter, sequins, buttons and pipe cleaners. 

He was already moving the task of laundry up on his priority list, simply given the fact that existing in a room with glitter in any quantity almost always resulted in tracking it everywhere you went. 

After the disaster that was their first arts and crafts social they did back when the Hotel was just starting, Alastor was mildly surprised to see the “contraband”, as Vaggie had put it, out once more. Surly Charlie was bold in assuming Niffty could be trusted around the stuff after the glitter hand print fiasco. If the old building hadn’t been destroyed, he was sure there would still be glitter clinging to the fibers of the carpet in the lounge with a vice grip.  

Upon further inspection, Vaggie was nowhere to be seen; so maybe that was to blame for glitter being out once more. Charlie really was too optimistic in peoples privilege of a second chance; but Alastor knew all too well that distance between Niffty and the large supply of glitter was a must.

The new lounge was rather different from the old Hotel, being built for larger quantities of guests. Its main entrance was connected to the lobby, the wall being a long span of large floor to ceiling and slightly tinted windows on either side of the glass double double doors. There was also an elevator entrance on the back wall for guests to access the room at any time.

The walls were a deep shade of burgundy, with off-white stripes going vertically across it every 6 or so inches; and the floors were a black carpet that had a pattern of clubs, spades, diamonds and hearts scattered across. The bar was much bigger than their old hotel's, its polished dark wood countertop wrapping around the wall to the left of the lobby entrance, with the open archway to the smaller kitchen behind it.

There were three TV’s above the bar as well, much to Alastor’s dismay. However they did take the precaution to ensure it wasn’t linked to Vox Tech in any way; least they have unwanted guests, or to be spied on by a certain pest. One screen had results for winning lottery numbers in big glittery gold letters, which updated automatically whenever new numbers were drawn; the background being deep green and off-white thick stripes, accompanied by Mammon’s logo which was forever slowly spinning in the lower right hand corner. Another screen had replays of some hellish sports-ball game Alastor didn’t quite care to understand; which involved clubs, a giant slingshot, a large spiked ball and a taser. The final screen had weather updates, broken down into the different pentagram districts: smog and the potential for acid rain in Pentagram City, Cannibal Town was due for cloudy but pleasant weather, Imp City seeing clear skies for once, so on and so forth.

Along the walls were tabled booths, and across the center of the room were larger round tables, which Charlie was in the process of setting up supplies on.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Alastor asked as he set Lucifer's tea down on a nearby table. Keeping his cup of Joe with him, he walked up to stand next to Charlie.

She jumped, having not heard Alastor approaching, “Oh!” She held her hand over her heart as if to calm herself, “I didn’t hear you come in.” she gave him a sheepish grin before focusing back on placing art supplies on each table, “I figured since yesterday was such a busy, all hands on deck kinda day, we can focus this morning and afternoon on just relaxing. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy some arts and crafts?” She asked as she looked back up at Alastor.

The Radio Demon refrained from saying that he himself didn’t really care for them, settling for taking a long sip of his drink as he watched her place neat stacks of paper in the middle of each table, which could seat eight people each. Not that there are too many new residents, but giving them all the option to pick and choose where to sit so things aren't too crowded made a bit of sense, “I see we’ve broken out the glitter again.” 

Charlie looked over to him, “Oh, yeah.” She laughed nervously, “I ordered a lot of it by accident, so I figured we could use it today to get through the supply.”

“Are we planning on seating Niffty away from the containers, or will she be supervised to avoid a repeated example on why she shouldn’t be allowed to touch it?” Alastor asked, really hoping he could persuade the Princess out of giving hotel residents access to glitter, especially in another carpeted room. Why did she even order glitter to begin with?

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Charlie reassured, before continuing her defense when Alastor only raised an eyebrow, “I mean, there will be plenty of people around to keep an eye on her.”

The elevator behind them dinged, signaling the arrival of more people. Checking the clock on the wall, there were 6 more minutes until things were expected to start. Lucifer was still in his room.

“All’s I’m sayin is it wouldn’t kill him to figure out the power outlet situation in the studio. After the first fire, you’d think he’d have learned his lesson.” Angel could be heard as he and a few others exited the elevator, “With Vox being a tech guy, there’s no reason this problem can’t be fixed. It’s gotta be some kinda masochism on his part to repeatedly set the place on fire.”

“Well, if the studio burned down, maybe you’d have more time off while he fixes it.” Husk responded; and even though Alastor couldn’t see him he could practically hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yeah, not if I go down with it.” Angel replied, making them both laugh, along with 2 others who seemed to be adopted into their little group. The two who trailed behind them were the crow-like sinners, who if he remembered correctly were named Asher and Lucy. The Lucy, who was taller than Asher by at least a foot, wore a loose fitting bright yellow tank top, along with a pair of well worn combat boots, an orange and brown flannel shirt with the buttons done up but miss-paired with the wrong holes by 1, along with ripped blue jeans that seemed to be covered in green and blue paint splotches. In comparison, Asher was the opposite, wearing a large black hoodie with a skull decal on the front, black ripped up jeans, and black sneakers.

“Arts and crafts today?” Angel asked as he plopped himself down in the nearest seat and leaned back, eyeing the supplies laid out on the table, “Glitter? Are we seriously doing this again?” He asked, looking up to Charlie with a raised eyebrow.

“It’ll be fine.” Was now becoming Charlie’s phrase of the day.

Angel didn’t seem convinced in the slightest, with his first set of arms crossed and his second’s hands being held behind his head, “It’s your call toots.” He shrugged, “Where is the tiny terror anyways?” 

As if on cue, one of the vent covers on the air duct above where Angel was sitting burst open, and out came tumbling Niffty. The metal cover just narrowly missed hitting the porn star in the head, but Niffty landed on top of him, knocking the chair back and sending them both tumbling backwards, “Hi guys!” 

“Niff what the fuck!” Angel complained, lifting her in the air with his first set of arms like a doll, while he rubbed the back of his head and used the last arm to prop himself back up.

She only giggled and kicked her legs gleefully before looking at the tables, “OH GLITTER!” She shrieked as she wriggled her way out of Angel's hands and scurried up on one of the tables before Alastor scooped her up by the back of her dress, and held her in the air like grabbing a kitten by the scruff of their neck.

“Now Niffty dear,” He began, looking her in they eye, “we don’t want a repeat of our last glitter related mishap, now do we?”

“We dooooo!” she cackled as she tried to break free, but to no avail.

“No.” Alastor corrected her, “No we absolutely do not .” She didn’t seem to be swayed so he continued, “Or else the glitter gets put away . Do I make myself clear, Niffty dear?”

She pouted at him, giving him a great rendition of the puppy dog eyes. Unfortunately for her, Alastor wasn’t much a fan of dogs; so when he didn’t relent she just sighed, “Fine.”

“Lovely.” He said as he put her carefully back down on the table. She sat on the edge of it and crossed her arms over her chest, pout still evident as she looked up at Alastor like he was a monster for putting his foot down; which the Radio Demon found a bit of humor in, given the fact he’d done plenty to earn a title such as that. Saying no to improper use of glitter was by far the most tame.

As Husk went to help Angel back up, Alastor made eye contact with him briefly before redirecting his attention to the other two hotel residents. The two seemed to shrink back under his scrutiny, which was good. It showed they had at least a little shred of self preservation.

Angel dusted his clothes off once he was back on his feet, “What were you even doing in the air vents?” He questioned.

As if forgetting the fact she was mad, Niffty perked up, “It’s good transportation!” She giggled and kicked her legs, “And a good hiding spot for all the bugs!” Her voice held a maniacal glee as she emphasized the last word.

“Do you have access to every room in the hotel through the vents?” Husk asked with mild concern.

“I sure do!!!” She cackled.

Angel and Husk exchanged glances, the taller sinner nodding slightly as if they were holding some sort of silent conversation, “Good to know.” Husk responded.

As minutes passed by, more and more of the residents showed up; till eventually the only ones not present were Vaggie and Lucifer. Alastor half expected Lucifer to arrive late anyways; having to make the long trek back to his side of the hotel, brush his hair, do his makeup and get dressed and ready to make an appearance; so it was no surprise to him when Lucifer showed up almost 30 minutes late. To his credit, he looked well put together, especially given the fact that he’d spent the majority of the night awake, then the rest of it sleeping in a rather uncomfortable position in an armchair. 

Everyone was seated and chatting, eating donuts and muffins that had been delivered not long after everyone arrived. Alastor passed up on the pastries, instead just drinking his coffee and twirling a red collared pencil in his hand; listening to Charlie lament about the origin of the new found plethora of glitter.

“I mean, I thought it would be a good idea, and it turned out horribly wrong.” She said as she pulled her strawberry frosted donut with rainbow sprinkles in half before taking a bite and continuing, “But maybe I was a little too liberal with the amount used–but I just wanted to make the writing stand out with a nice border around the page. And now Vaggie is upstairs alone rewriting them for me while I set up and run today's activity.” 

Alastor patiently sipped his coffee as she continued, ears perking up ever so slightly at the sound of steps approaching their table, “Good morning Charlie, I’m sorry for being late. I had a bit of a rough start this morning. The alarm didn’t go off, you know how it is.” Lucifer stated, letting out a nervous chuckle as he plopped down in the vacant seat beside Alastor. 

On Charlie’s other side sat Niffty, who was scribbling away on paper with a multicolored crayon with a fervor of a hyperactive child, running on a sugar high thanks to the powdered donut she’d eaten. Remnants of powdered sugar on her hands were smeared across the page as well, which seemed to go unnoticed by the small girl as she worked. She looked up from her masterpiece to stare at Lucifer, before giggling and returning back to her work. 

“It’s ok dad.” Charlie responded, her foot now tapping nervously as she stewed on her current glitter induced plight, “Today is mostly a relaxing day anyways.”

Alastor pushed the cup of tea towards Lucifer, who looked up at the Radio Demon with suspicion, “Oh come now,” Alastor tisked, “It’s not as though I've poisoned it. It’s only Earl Grey.”

The King of Hell picked the cup up and stated, “It’s cold.”

“Well maybe if you’d been here on time you could have had it while it was hot.” Alastor shot back in a sarcastic tone. 

With a suspicious glint in his eyes, Lucifer reluctantly brought the cold cup of tea up to his lips and took a sip; only to scrunch his nose up in distaste, “This is the worst cup of tea I’ve ever had! It’s way too bitter!” he complained, setting the offending cup back on the table and sticking his forked tongue out in disgust.

“I’m personally not a fan of the stuff myself, so forgive me if I don’t know how you take your tea.” Alastor responded, unsure whether to feel insulted that his tea was deemed bad, or be delighted that he’d made the King drink something unpleasant.

Charlie watched the exchange, unsure if this was good or bad progress between the Radio Demon and her father; taking another bite of her donut as she watched it all go down.

“How can you mess up something so basic?” Lucifer complained.

“Well, I said I didn’t poison it. I didn’t say I’d made it well.” Alastor responded, “As I’ve stated before, hearing loss does come with old age, perhaps you’re due for an appointment to get your ears checked? I’m not a fan of tea myself. What about that statement makes you think I know anything about its preparation outside of putting a tea bag in hot water?”

“You might as well have poisoned it with how bitter this is.” He looked into the cup and noticed the tea bag still present, “Oh well there’s part of your problem, how long has this been steeping for?!”

“It would have been less time, had you not shown up so late. Very unbecoming of royalty if you asked me.” Alastor quipped back. 

“Well I didn’t ask you.” Lucifer frowned at the cup and pushed it away from him, “And it’s not rocket science to know not to keep the bag in for too long. Do you let your precious coffee soak in coffee grinds for hours on end before drinking it?”

“I don’t even get a ‘ thank you’ for trying.” Alastor huffed in mock offense. 

Lucifer scoffed, “An attempt was hardly made here. Did you even put sugar in it? Honey? Anything?” 

“Take another sip and ask yourself if it tastes like sweetener was added to it.” Alastor said sarcastically, taking the final sip of his black coffee and setting the cup aside. 

To his amusement Lucifer actually did take another sip, and the reaction was on par, if not more dramatic than the last. His whole face scrunched up as if he’d taken a bite out of a lemon, and he looked down at the cup like it was the tea’s fault he took another sip, “Why did I do that?”

“What’s your verdict?” Alastor asked.

“There’s no sugar in it.”

“Congratulations, your taste buds work.” The Radio Demon replied dryly.

“CoNgRaTuLaTiOnS yOuR tAsTe BuDs WoRk–” Lucifer repeated in a mocking tone before snapping his fingers and having a new cup of tea appear on the table before him, “Anyways, Char-Char! Sweetie! What are the plans for today?” He asked his daughter, bringing the new cup to his lips and taking a long sip while maintaining eye contact with the other man.

“Arts and crafts.” She responded, “Donuts and muffins got here a little bit ago, but there should still be some good ones left in the boxes on the bar counter.” She pointed over to the multiple boxes of a dozen donuts each from Crumbs and Crumbles Donut Shop. 

“I will be right back.” Lucifer said as he hopped up to go get some food, “Charlie please make sure he doesn't mess with my drink?” He asked her with a smile; not even looking at the man in question.

“You got it dad.”

“Applesauce, I would do no such thing.” Alastor denied, also not looking at the other man.

“You see? You say things like that, and it just makes you sound guilty.” Lucifer responded as he walked away, “ApPlEsAuCe.” He mocked as he left earshot.

There was a small quiet that fell between Charlie and him for a moment, with nothing but the sound of crayon marking up a piece of paper with more gusto than necessary. The Princess finished off the last of her donut before finally speaking up, “Are you and my dad ok?” Her voice was a bit hesitant, “I know you guys didn’t get off on the best foot, but after we’ve all settled into the new building I was hoping that things would at least get a little bit better, and–”

“Don’t worry so much about it, dear.” Alastor cut her off before she could spiral into a lecture that he was a bit too tired to sit through, “We get along well enough.” he waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m sorry…” She paused, “You guys both mean a lot to me, and I know it’s naive to hope every important person in my life could get along well. But I still wish…” Charlie trailed off.

Alastor put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance, “Just because we don’t get on well all the time doesn’t mean we can’t be civil around each other.” 

There was a look of disappointment in Charlie’s eyes, but honestly Alastor didn’t know what else to say to her. He didn’t want to lie to her any more than he already had to; and that desire was already unsettling enough for him to admit to himself. Over a year ago, he didn’t care for her at all; only being here out of obligation to Lilith because of their deal. He wasn’t supposed to get attached, but here he was almost two months after his deal with her was broken, still assisting Charlie with the hotel. 

The constraints of that deal put him through so much anguish over the span of seven long years, he’d half expected to hate the girl before him because of it. But he didn’t; or more so, he couldn’t. He saw in her a version of himself that was snuffed out years before he’d died; and he couldn’t bring it in him to be the one to do that to her. He felt a sort of kinship with the Princess of Hell; and despite the original jab at Lucifer about seeing her like his daughter, which he didn’t actually mean at the time, it planted that seed inside his mind. 

His time on earth was full of difficulty after difficulty; not fitting in with any group: being too white to be black, and too black to be white. He found himself fighting the brunt of racism in America’s southern states alone, which only grew to wicked extremes after his mother fell ill and passed when he was only 19. Then the man who treated him like a son and took him under his wing, teaching him everything he knew about broadcasting and radio; was drafted into World War 1 in 1918 and passed soon thereafter. He’d been so utterly alone.

He worried Charlie would face something similar, being half archangel and half human sinner; and that one day her eternal optimism would be snuffed out like his own was.

Before Charlie could say anything in response, Lucifer came back to the table with a muffin and a donut held precariously in one hand while he licked off some pink frosting that got on the thumb on his other hand, “That’s quite the spread you got here. Dear, how much did all this come to?” He asked as he sat down once more, “Also,” he passed Alastor an old fashioned plain donut, “I figured you’d be the only person in here that would eat this.”

The Radio Demon looked at the donut, which Lucifer all but shoved into the hand that was absently twirling the red pencil, causing him to drop the writing implement in the process, “I feel like there was some kind of jab there,” He said, “but I do fancy myself a plain donut, so thank you.” He replied, knowing full well this was likely aimed as payback for the bad cup of tea. Truth is, he wasn’t much of a sweets person; which was why he passed up on the breakfast pastries to begin with. But he wouldn’t let Lucifer know that, and at least plain donuts weren’t overly sweet.

Lucifer scoffed, “Of course you do.” He then focused his attention back to his daughter, awaiting a response from her. Alastor broke off a piece of his donut and plopped it in his mouth, looking down at the shorter man with a rather smug expression.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Charlie waved him off, “This is supposed to be my gift to everyone for doing so much hard work yesterday.” There was a dash of hope in her eyes, and she gave her dad a big smile.

Lucifer hummed as he peeled away the wrapper to his blueberry muffin, “Where’s Maggie?”

“It’s Vaggie, dad.” Charlie sighed, “And she’s in our room fixing the thank you letters I ruined with glitter.” Now reminded of her previous plight, Charlie’s expression fell.

“I’m sure it can’t be that–” Lucifer started to say before Alastor silenced him by shoving half his donut in his mouth. He wasn’t going to start this conversation again.

“Charlie dear,” Alastor began, looking away from Lucifer who was now glaring daggers at him as he worked through a mouth full of donut, “How about you bring some donuts up to Vaggie and go help her? Your father and I can keep an eye on everything here and clean up after while you do that.”

Her expression perked up, “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose or–”

“Oh nonsense,” Alastor made a shooing motion, “We can handle this no problem. Now go, you don’t want to leave her waiting.”

“You’re ok with it dad?” Charlie turned her attention to Lucifer, who was swallowing the large bite of donut Alastor all but force-feed him.

After clearing his throat he responded, “Yes of course, dear! Not a problem at all!” 

Charlie hopped up and pulled them both in for a hug, “Thank you guys so much! I can’t express how much I appreciate this! We’ll be down as soon as we’re finished!”

“No need to hurry, we’ll have it all handled.” Alastor began to say at the same time Lucifer said, “Your dad has it all handled!” The two men glared at each other over Charlie’s head, which was more like Alastor glaring down at Lucifer over her head, going unnoticed by the Princess of Hell.

“Thank you again so much!” She said as she pulled away, giving both men a happy smile before running to grab some breakfast pastries for her girlfriend and going to the elevator, “We’ll be back before you know it!”

The two men sat back down, and as Alastor watched Charlie leave, Lucifer made quick work of folding a piece of paper into a compact triangle before flicking it at the taller man’s head, “Don’t shove a donut in my mouth next time. Don’t you know it’s rude?” 

There was a hushed silence that followed the action in the room as people noticed what happened, accompanied by the soft sound of scooting chairs on carpet as those closest to them inched away; with most of the room bracing themselves for what was sure to be a fight now that Charlie had left. The only one who seemed to either not notice the tension, or not care, was Niffty; who was looking up at them with excitement in her eye. She even stood up on her chair and leaned over the table to get a better look.

But to everyone's surprise, and Niffty’s disappointment, Alastor simple said, “I did us all a favor by shutting you up and giving us a few seconds of blissful silence from your mouth.”

“You really are insufferable, you know that?” Lucifer responded as he broke a piece off the top of his muffin and ate it.

“And you make being difficult look effortless.” Alastor shot back before picking back up the red pencil and grabbing a piece of paper. He had no intentions of finishing the donut, which he’s placed the remnants of on a napkin and pushed it in Niffty’s direction; knowing full well she would finish it for him. Best not to waste food.

In his tired boredom, he let silence between the two continue as he absently sketched. It was something he’d taken to long ago when running his broadcast, and made for a good way to keep his mind occupied between announcements while he let music play. In all honesty, Alastor would give anything to be the one to leave this function early and go take a nap. But he could tell Charlie needed it more, and when she came back surely he could dip out early to go get some much needed rest. 

He, nor did Lucifer, noticed the way Niffty kept looking up at the two with an intense and mischievous look in her eye. She was working on a new piece of paper, now using a black colored pencil as her artistic medium of choice. 

…

From his spot next to Alastor, Lucifer kept staring at him with utmost scrutiny. How did he look so put together and normal, when he himself felt like he was just barely passing as functional. His hair looked perfect, his skin looked clear with no bags under his eyes, and he looked the same as he did any other day. The man hadn't gotten any more sleep than he had–did Alastor actually sleep? Surly he did, right? There was the week he’d been out like a light when he was initially recovering from Adam’s attack. But was that something out of the ordinary for him?

That whole week had felt like some sort of weird dream. From the start he’d wanted to be by his daughter’s side when the exorcists attacked; but be it as it were, he’d spent the entirety of the month leading up to it digging through Hell’s archives, trying to find the written contract made between Lilith and Adam. That would have all the answers he was looking for. He’d known that he wasn’t to interfere with the extermination, but damn it he was trying to find some sort of loophole. One that wouldn’t render him defending his daughter mute when all of Heaven came down to wage war on them.

In the end, he wasn’t able to locate it and was forced to make a split second decision to defend Charlie; hoping that since Adam was targeting a Hellborn then maybe that would break the original contract. There was still a lingering fear that retribution was on its way, since any attempt he’d made at making contact with Heaven went unanswered. Be that directed to the Seraphims, the other Archangels, or even his own father who always seemed absent. 

When was the last time anyone was even able to contact the guy? Hell if he knew, and until he heard anything from Heaven, he was essentially a sitting duck; playing the waiting game for his estranged family to reach out. It wasn’t as if he was a stranger to his family's scrutiny; even before giving humanity free will his ideas were laughed off and shoved aside, but he didn’t want his daughter on the other end of the sword like he was. 

When he’d finally arrived, it was just in time to witness Alastor’s chest get cut open like a knife through butter. There were a multitude of reasons Lucifer did what he did. Targeting Adam head on had been his initial goal, but there was nothing truly stopping him from letting the angel finish off the sinner he detested more than any other. But... He couldn’t ignore the fact that it was Alastor that helped his daughter get properly equipped for this battle. It was him that bolstered Charlie’s confidence in her ability to lead, it was him who supported her from the very start of her effort towards rehabilitation, and it was him who bought Lucifer enough time to get to the Hotel before Adam could harm her.

So save the Radio Demon he did. Even going so far after the battle to donate some of his blood with the help of Rosie, who seemed to be a woman of many talents as it were; knowing full well that angelic blood was the only thing they had on hand which would counteract the holy energy festering in the open cavity of Alastor's chest. The wound was a ghastly sight at that; a large jagged gash carving its way through skin, muscle and bone entirely across his chest. It really was a miracle the man survived it. Or more accurately, that the man was revived from it. 

Those first few days after the Hotel’s reconstruction had been horrible, having to watch his daughter beat herself up about the injury, moved to tears over the idea that Alastor could be dead at any moment, mind going to every and any dark ending scenario it could take her. 

Outside of his initial contribution, Lucifer had felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do or say to make her feel better, and it was in that moment exactly that he knew he really didn’t know his daughter at all. He’d let his depression get the better of him for so long, not only was it the downfall of his marriage, it was the downfall of his relationship with Charlie as well. 

That week had done something good for him though. It strengthened his resolve to do right by his daughter. He was still dealing with on and off depression, and that was something he was sure he’d deal with for as long as he lived, but he would strive to be a better dad.

And that unfortunately meant playing nice with the smug bastard next to him. 

As Lucifer continued to pick at his muffin, he made a mental note to research the bakery and its prices so he could sneakily put the money back in his daughter’s account. She was already doing so much for the hotel, breakfast this morning would be on him whether she liked it or not. He also still needed to go check the camera footage from last night to delete the evidence of him getting scared by Keekee.

Lucifer looked over to the page Alastor was drawing on and frowned. He can’t also be good at art, absolutely not. On the page, in red colored pencil, was a sketch of Razzle and Dazzle; both of which were hovering around the open air duct trying to figure out how to put the vent cover back on. What was even up with that? This Hotel was brand new, there was no reason for it to be falling apart like that.

“Niffty fell out of it.” Alastor supplied, causing Lucifer to jump in his seat.

“How did you know I was thinking about that?” Lucifer asked, now suddenly concerned that the man next to him might be able to read his mind.

“Your face is easy to read.” he stated simply as he went back to his sketch, smiling matter-of-factly to himself. 

“It is not.” Lucifer denied. And it wasn’t. Right?

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep well at night.” the sinner shrugged, smile turning to something less infuriating, and more innocent. 

Niffty was giggling to herself from across the table, now working with a multitude of different colored pencils. What was even up with that? Lucifer attempted to see what she was doing, but from where he was, he wouldn't be able to see without it being obvious about it. Alastor picked up on this and looked her way, then did a double take at what she was doing.

“Niffty, what in the Seven Rings of Hell are you drawing?!” He sounded genuinely mortified, giving Lucifer the perfect excuse to stand and look over the stack of art supplies that was blocking his view initially.

Lucifer’s face flushed golden as he saw the drawing Niffty was working so diligently on, even making an attempt to hop the table and snag the drawing from her to get rid of the offending material; only for her to scoop it up and run, cackling as she did so.

This caught the attention of everyone in the room as Alastor stood up and attempted to ensnare her with vines which grew up from the ground, but she dodged expertly, “You’ll never catch me me alive!” she shouted and cackled as she weaved through the tables, only to be scooped up by the worst person here that could see the offending material: Angel Dust. And before Lucifer or Alastor could get to them, the spider sinner plucked the paper from her little claws, causing it to tear slightly, and started laughing his ass off.

“Niff you really got talent!” He laughed, and before they knew it, Husk saw it and cracked a smirk, trying to fight off the laugh that threatened to come out. But that was all before Alastor ripped the page from Angel’s hands and shredded it to pieces so no one else could see.

The picture was of Lucifer in his full demon form, hovering in the air and carrying Alastor in his arms bridal style, while the two of them kissed. It was in a similar style to the anime comics Charlie used to read when she was a teen. Comics of which she would refuse to let Lucifer see, even burning one before the King of Hell could see what was on the page she was reading.

He was so grateful Charlie had left before Niffty started her drawing, he couldn’t stand the thought that she would see it. There would be so many questions, he could hear them now-and all of which he wouldn't even know how to answer. There was nothing like that going on between him and the Radio Demon, and he would prefer it if no thoughts like that were planted in his precious baby girl’s head. 

“Niffty, you’re grounded.” Alastor stated, “Go to the corner, time out for 15 minutes.” he lifted the small girl from Angel’s hands and sent her walking to the farthest corner from everyone in the room.

“This is no fair!” She yelled as she stomped her way over to the corner, “No glitter and no drawing! You aren’t a bad boy, you’re just mean!” she added on as she made it to the corner and thumped her head against the wall and let out an upset grunt.

“No glitter and no drawing until you can be trusted with it!” Alastor replied sternly. 

She raised her head from the wall and shouted, “You ruin everything!” before thumping her head back against the corner.

Alastor turned from Niffty to Angel and Husk, “I don’t want to hear a word about this. Not. A. One.” He growled out, antlers growing and the sound of radio interference rising up in the room, “Am I crystal clear?”

“As a bell.” The two said, shrinking back from Alastor with a palpable fear.

“Good.” He responded, form reverting back to normal as he turned on his heels and marching back to their table. He sat down in the chair Charlie had been in before, putting some distance between him and Lucifer. The King of Hell had no complaints about this decision as well. 

Eventually things reverted back to normal in the room; and when Niffty finally got out of time out, Lucifer distracted her from drawing by showing her how to fold origami frogs.

It wouldn’t be till much later when they noticed the tally marks she made on the wall by the corner in green crayon, as if to mark down days locked up in jail. 15 tallies for 15 minutes.

…

Much later that night, Lucifer found himself sifting through camera footage in the Hotel’s security office; only remembering to do so once he’d gotten all cozy in bed. With a tired yawn, he looked through the recording of the long hallway that connected their rooms. The lack of lights in the hall didn’t hinder the footage much, if at all, due to their night vision capabilities; all he had to do was hop from camera to camera as he watched himself walk down the hall.

He couldn’t help but enjoy watching the fabric of his robe flow behind him, of which he was wearing again right now. As he hopped from camera to camera, he could recall at each moment what was going through his head, realizing that maybe Alastor was right. His face was too easy to read. He needed to work on that.

As he came up on the section of footage he aimed to delete, his eyes caught something unsettling. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as if he felt eyes on him; in much the same way he had felt last night on his walk.

Now he knew exactly what that feeling was coming from. He looked behind him quickly, but nothing was there-and yet, he still felt as though he was being watched.

Lucifer got a sense of where Alastor was in the hotel, and with the slightest little pull in his mind; the Radio Demon was summoned right next to him. The man came tumbling out of nowhere and fell to the ground; completely disoriented and confused, dressed in a crimson colored pajama set.

“What the FUCK?!” Alastor demanded, pure irritation dripping from his unfiltered voice, “Lucifer, you better have a damn good reason for summoning me here!”

The King of Hell looked around the room with a bit of paranoia, expression queuing Alastor into the fact that something was actually wrong, “There was something caught on the security cams. I think it’s important that you see.”

The taller man got to his feet and dusted himself off as he approached the desk to get a look at one of the large monitors on the wall, which played a small loop of footage over and over and over, “We have security cameras in the Hotel?” He asked.

“Not attached to Vox Tech. It's just in case there’s an incident.”

Alastor’s form grew rigid as he noticed the exact thing Lucifer had seen as well. In the video, as Lucifer jumped back and transformed, the fire between his horns flared out brightly enough to color the screen. They caught a glimpse of a dark figure with glowing purple eyes, which stretched out across the floor and walls like a cast shadow. It was there briefly, and dissipated in the flair of light Lucifer emitted.

“Yedne.” Was all that Alastor said, radio filter back in his voice once more.

Suddenly, they didn’t feel so alone in that room anymore.

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