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None of this would be happening if Lucifer had kept his stupid mouth shut for once.
He hazarded a glance around the hotel lobby. Charlie was on the edge of her seat, fists tightly clenched and eyes shining. Husk leaned against the bar, the fur of his tail standing on end and a deep scowl on his face. Angel Dust’s arms were crossed in front of him. His eyes darted from the mission board to Husk, the cat demon’s anxiety only heightening his own.
Vaggie stood at the head of the group, next to the mission board, back ramrod straight. She looked every bit a general determined to rally the troops, yet her knuckles were white from how tightly she grasped her pointer.
Most alarming of all, Niffty sat stock still in one of the armchairs. Lucifer had never seen her so focused.
Was all of this really necessary?
Alastor was still recovering from Adam handing his ass to him. He was nowhere close to full strength. Lucifer should know. He’d seen the full extent of the angelic injury while trying to heal the stubborn bastard.
Niffty’s hand shot into the air. Vaggie motioned for her to speak.
“What do we do when Mister Alastor kills us all and bathes in our blood?”
Angel jerked in his seat, all eight of his eyes widening in alarm.
Vaggie scowled. “Not gonna happen. We’ve accounted for every possible variable.” She punctuated each word with a pointer tap to the myriad of scenarios scrawled across the board.
Lucifer rolled his eyes. He was just one measly little deer man, who was now standing in front of the mission board and studying it. How much trouble could he possibly—
Lucifer nearly fell out of his seat, frantically pointing at Alastor when his words failed him.
Vaggie arched a brow as she turned to see what had him so on edge. Her eye widened as she recoiled. “Qué mierda?!”
She flipped the board around so fast she nearly took Alastor’s nose with it.
Well, if he wasn’t suspicious before, he sure as hell was now!
“I wasn’t aware we were having a meeting,” Alastor offered, his smile bordering on menacing as he turned to face her.
“A-Alastor!” Charlie exclaimed, shooting to her feet. “Sorry! We thought you were out! We definitely would have invited you otherwise, ha ha!”
She reached up to put an arm around the demon’s shoulders, making Lucifer’s heart leap into his throat. Alastor’s eyes narrowed. Charlie wisely yanked her arm back before it so much as entered his personal space.
Okay. Maybe he was starting to understand why everyone was being so damn weird about the guy.
“Well, I’m here now, dear. What have I missed?”
She was a terrible liar, but at least his little girl was great at thinking on her feet in emergency situations.
…this was becoming an emergency situation, wasn’t it?
Hoo boy.
“Dad! Dad was just sharing some new coffee options for the hotel!”
Alastor quirked a brow. “Whatever for? We already have the perfect selection! I should know, I picked them all out myself!” He turned to Lucifer, eyes narrowing.
Had he? Of course he had. He was an obnoxious, extremely vocal coffee snob.
Wait. Why was he supposed to be tricking him into drinking coffee? Wasn’t that the opposite of getting the idiot to rest?
His eyes darted to Vaggie in a silent plea. She stared back at him uncomprehendingly before slapping her hand to her forehead. ‘Decaf!’ she aggressively mouthed.
Oh! Oh, that’s right. Because the psychopath drank enough of the regular stuff to send him to a second death. Lucifer was supposed to be swapping out Alastor’s favorite blend with the decaf stuff. Apparently that part of the plan had already gone to shit.
Maybe he could just tire him out by letting him try to kill him for calling his taste in coffee into question? Surely it would be easier than all this?
“Uh… Have you seen those little pod things? The ones you just stick in the…”
Alastor looked positively murderous now. Angel rapidly shook his head from behind him, crossing his upper set of arms over his chest.
“Ha, ha…ha. I was just joking! You should see the look on your face! Everyone knows those little pod things are the worst! No real coffee lover would ever use something that…that…”
“Sacrilegious?” Alastor supplied, the looming shadows in the room easing up.
Charlie’s resulting laugh bordered on hysterical.
“Exactly!”
Fuck.
He could do this! He was the literal KING OF HELL. He certainly hadn’t been using those little pods because of how convenient they were and how fun it was to pop them in his coffee machine.
Nope. Never.
He liked a good cup of coffee as much as the next person, though he wasn’t nearly as picky as this old-timey fuck.
How was it Lucifer, having been created at the beginning of…well…creation, was more accepting of technological advances than this hundred something year old whack job?
Lucifer had indulged in coffee prior to the pods, thank you very much. Caffeine helped him focus and/or knocked him out cold. He couldn’t help it! It made his head so much quieter!
If coffee helped him sleep, maybe decaf was the wrong choice here?
Vaggie’s hands were buried in her hair like she was on the verge of tearing it out at the root.
Right! Decaf!
Lucifer waved his hand and a herd of steaming mugs appeared on the table (haha, the coffee table!) they were all clustered around, one for each of them. Alastor glanced at them, his smile somehow indicating he was…frowning?
How was that even possible???
“What?” Lucifer demanded.
“There are some things best not left to magic.”
Lucifer gaped at him. Was this asshole seriously turning down coffee magicked by the King of Hell himself because he hadn’t physically French pressed it or poured it over or dripped it or whatever the fuck else himself?!
There were far too many ways to make a cup nowadays.
Maybe free will had been a mistake…
Alastor stood there, not drinking any of the decaf coffee Lucifer had so generously provided.
What? Did the maniac personally roast and hand grind his own beans?
Ha! What was he thinking?
Of course he fucking did!
Alastor ate those loan sharks the other day whole and raw (did it count as raw if they were still alive?) but OF COURSE he would draw the line at ~magicked coffee~.
Being unconscious was close enough to sleeping, wasn’t it? He should just pummel him to sleep.
No one moved to grab a mug.
Not even Charlie.
Lucifer’s eye twitched.
Traitors. All of them.
Alastor continued to stand there, arms tucked behind his back as he smiled smugly down at him.
“Do you need to see the damn beans, asshat?” Lucifer demanded, surging to his feet.
Alastor pointedly looked to Lucifer’s tophat at the insult.
You know what? Death was the deepest sleep a person can get. Really, he’d be doing deer boy a favor!
Charlie hurriedly moved between them, hands raised in a placating gesture.
“Hey, uh, Smiles?” Angel hazarded.
Alastor turned his stupid head one hundred and eighty degrees to regard him. Lucifer grimaced, absently rubbing his own neck.
“We was thinkin’ about havin’ a dance marathon!” he said with, in Lucifer's opinion, excessive forced cheer.
A what now?
Alastor turned the rest of his body to face Angel, who swallowed audibly upon having the entirety of the Radio Demon’s attention on him.
“…I mean, if that’s the kinda thing ya into..?”
“When?” Alastor breathed, eyes wide.
“Uh…”
“Tonight!” Charlie cut in, beaming. “To…celebrate the new hotel renovations!”
Sure, if rebuilding it from the ground up counted as a ‘renovation.’
He didn’t like how intensely Alastor was now staring at his daughter. How was he somehow creepier without all his weird shadows and glitchy bullshit?
“Tonight? That’s hardly enough time to prepare!”
“…this weekend?”
“Much more reasonable! And what is the prize?”
“The…uh…prize?” Charlie asked, eyes darting back and forth at the seemingly odd question.
“Certainly! I can hardly advertise the event on my radio show if I don’t know what we’re offering the lucky winner!”
Charlie turned to Angel, beaming anxiously at him. Angel stared back at her like a deer in headlights.
Husk cleared his throat. “Uh…winner gets a signature drink on the hotel bar’s menu. Their recipe, their name.”
Worried glances fluttered around the room before everyone returned their attention to Alastor. His grin, if possible, widened.
“Splendid! And is the event open to the public?”
“…yes?” Charlie offered.
“Do the standard rules apply?”
Angel nodded his head vigorously.
One moment Alastor was standing in front of them and the next he was gone. Everyone stared at the empty spot he’d left behind as all of the radios in the hotel immediately cut on.
“Good afternoon, my flappers and flaming youths!” Alastor’s cheery voice rang out. “Apologies for the impromptu broadcast, but I have a rather impromptu announcement to share!”
Everyone slowly turned to face Angel.
“This Saturday the Hazbin Hotel, recent site of the massacre of Heavenly exorcists, will be hosting a Dance Marathon to celebrate our grand reopening! Standard rules apply! The event will begin at the stroke of midnight! Glad rags and complimentary refreshments, especially giggle juice, will be provided free of charge! And, most importantly, the winner will receive a generous cash prize in addition to having a signature cocktail named for them at our hotel bar!” There was a brief pause followed by a surge of static and Alastor’s voice grew distorted alongside it.
“A̴̝̳͉͋̈͝͝ṱ̵͇́̽̈́t̴̛̗̞̂͒e̴͎͐n̷̛̹̔̊̿d̴̼̬̗̳̋̈́̿ắ̶̳̉̓ņ̴͉͎̂͂̓c̵̰̜̔ͅe̸̛̹̫͊̕ ̴̟̳͙̹̾̋ì̸͔̂š̴̨̰̔̕ ̶̘̱͈̱̀̌͑̓s̷̤͉̮͑̔̒̋t̷̞̭̰̮͝r̷̢̫͛ö̶̤̥̻́͛n̶̛̜̿̚g̷̹͖̜̉l̵̟̾͝ÿ̵̺̙̉̿̚ ̸͙̂͘͜͝͝ȅ̵̜̝̬̎̈n̶̲̫̍c̶̬̻͋̒̀́o̶̤͗̏̽͌u̸̡̼̎̓́ͅr̶̲̣̤̀a̴͙̾͌̓̋g̷͔̐e̸͕͔̟͊d̶͈͙̯̒.”
The static eased up and Alastor added jauntily, “Prepare to be hitting on all eight and utterly spifflicated! It’s sure to be the cat’s meow! Dancingly yours!”
As quickly as the broadcast began, it was over. All the radios turned off with an audible click.
“What the fuck is a dance marathon What cash prize? And what does the rest of that gibberish even mean?!” Vaggie demanded.
Angel held his hands up as if to defend himself. “Ya said ya wanted him tired, right? That’s the whole point uva dance marathon! They was real popular in the twenties and thirties!” He rubbed his chin. “…though summa them went on for a thousan’ hours or more…”
The color drained from Lucifer’s face. A thousand hours?
That was…that was so many hours!
“Are you saying we just agreed to host a dance party for a month straight?!
Angel shrugged. “Depends on how long folks last..? I woulda said a sock hop, but I’m pretty sure that was a fifties thing. Past my time, so I didn’t think Smiles would go for it.”
Vaggie buried her face in her hands, letting out a muffled scream from behind them. Charlie winced, gently wrapping her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders.
“…I’m sure it’ll be fun! Angel’s just exaggerating, right Angel? I mean, people need to eat! And sleep! You can’t sleep while dancing!” Charlie rambled.
Angel gave a tight smile. “…well, I mean ya usually only gotta dance forty-five minutes of every hour? They would set up beds alongside the dance floor for contestants to power nap. An’ most folks just ate while they danced?”
“…wait, how were people dancing a month straight on power naps alone?” Vaggie asked.
Angel chuckled. “I mean, stimulants and that kinda thing was pretty easy to get ahold of back then. People trained for the marathons too. Figured out how to fall asleep real quicklike. An’ if they didn’t wake up fast enough, that’s what smellin’ salts an’ ice water dunks was for!”
Charlie’s excitement quickly gave way to horror. “That sounds like torture!”
He shrugged. “Kinda was? Folks liked watchin’ dancers drop. Marathons pretty much got banned after enough people died an’ went crazy.”
No wonder Alastor was so keen on the idea. Sounded right up his twisted little alley.
The extemporaneous history lesson was interrupted by the front doors to the hotel bursting open. A worried Posie? Daisy? - whatever the creepy cannibal lady’s name was - hurried inside, skirts swaying. The last remaining Egg Boi followed close at her heels.
“Charlie! I just got ya message! What’s wrong? He sounded fine on the broadcast!”
Why was the cannibal lady here? Why was his daughter on a first name basis with her? Why did his daughter know so many cannibals?!
Charlie rushed over, taking the woman’s hands in her own. “Oh, Rosie! Thanks so much for coming!”
Rosie! Eh, close enough. It had taken him days to learn Vaggie wasn’t actually a Maggie.
“Where’s Al?” Rosie asked, her hollow doll’s eyes sweeping across the room. “Oh, silly me. He must still be up in his radio tower.”
Lucifer suspiciously studied the surrounding shadows. They seemed to be doing normal shadow things.
…whatever normal shadow things were…
“Well, you see…” Charlie began, biting her lip. “…Alastor-got-really-hurt-fighting-Adam and my dad healed him but he said the-healing-won’t-work-right-if-Alastor-doesn’t-rest!”
Rosie blinked at her, clearly trying to puzzle out the rush of words. “He got hurt fightin’ that no good bastard?”
Charlie nodded so enthusiastically Lucifer worried her head might pop off before turning to him.
“Tell her, dad! Please!”
He sighed heavily, sinking back into his chair. “He got hit head on with Adam’s angelic weapon. He should be dead.”
Of course he wasn’t. It would’ve been much too convenient and this was Hell after all.
One of Rosie’s hands leapt to her mouth as she gasped.
“Yea, we only found out cuzza Vox’s coverage after the fact,” Angel added. “Even with all Al’s glitchin’, ya could still tell what happened. It was all over social media too, courtesy of Velvette.”
Which had led to quite a few broadcasts by the Radio Demon where his “guests” testified to how hale and hearty he was with their screams.
Lucifer didn’t sleep well at the best of times, but he’d definitely lost some sleep when he’d woken up to that.
You fall into one itty-bitty years long depressive episode and your daughter somehow becomes friends and business partners with a sadistic cannibal serial killer.
He hadn’t broadcasted from the hotel at least. Lucifer would know, seeing as he and Charlie had barged up there to put a stop to the carnage.
Alastor went from being mocked by the Vees for a grand total of five seconds to being even more widely feared because the First Man himself hadn’t been able to kill him with an angelic weapon. Not to mention how many exorcists he killed without breaking a sweat. It became readily apparent to the other Overlords and Overlord wannabes that he’d been holding back in their skirmishes too.
No one wanted to find out if the Radio Demon was still sporting angelic steel.
The new rumor the Radio Demon was unkillable made it all the way up to Lucifer’s ears.
Ugh.
“Dad?” Charlie said, her tone indicating it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention.
What were they talking about again..?
Oh.
“Healing! Yeah! …uh... I healed as much as I could, but the damage was pretty extensive. I jump started the process and got him pretty far along. His body has to do the rest of the work, though my lingering magic will give him a continued boost. The more rest he gets up front, the faster it’ll go.”
“Since we don’t know what Heaven’s planning next, we don’t exactly have forever to wait around for his stubborn ass to heal,” Vaggie added.
Lucifer was really starting to like her. Especially because of how much Alastor annoyed her too.
“And because we want Alastor to feel better too!” Charlie insisted. “He’s our friend!”
Rosie’s eyes bounced between them all as if she were watching a tennis match. Her brow furrowed. “But he’s gonna be okay, right? He’s mostly healed?”
Lucifer sighed heavily. “This kind of thing is a little unprecedented. Demonic and Angelic energies don’t mix well. The sooner he gives my magic a chance to fully take root, the less we need to worry about him relapsing.”
Charlie’s full attention lit on him like a spotlight, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes alarmingly wet. Lucifer stared at her in bewilderment. What? What had he said? Before he could replay his last few sentences in his mind, she was crushing him against the back of the armchair in a hug strong enough to threaten the constitution of his ribs. He cautiously patted her on the back as he tried and mostly failed to breathe.
“I kn-knew you cared!” she sobbed into his chest.
“Uh…”
She squeezed him tighter, effectively evacuating the remaining air in his lungs.
Vaggie hurried over to them, trying to gently pry Charlie off of him.
“Babe, if you're not careful you’re gonna smother him.”
Charlie wailed, turning her vise-like grip on her girlfriend while Lucifer gasped for air.
Angel must have noticed his confusion because he offered, “Ya said the less we hafta worry about him relapsin’.”
Mortification swept through him so quickly it made him light headed. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen? Either way, he was DEFINITELY NOT WORRIED about the asshole!
He just wouldn’t voice as much because Charlie had almost killed him with a hug and was now threatening to flood the lobby with her happy tears. All because he accidentally said he was concerned about Alastor.
Vaggie made soft shushing noises as she patted Charlie on the back. Rosie, meanwhile, offered Lucifer a tentative smile. Hers was slightly less discomfiting than Alastor’s creepy ass smile. Regardless he wasn’t thrilled he’d done something to make her look at him in such a way.
“Is that what Al’s announcement was about?” Rosie hazarded. “You all are tryin’ to tucker him out?”
Lucifer snorted at the mental image of them all trying to settle a fussy Radio Demon. He didn’t quite manage to hide his amusement behind a fake cough.
Alastor was being fussy though.
Prick.
“Yeah,” Angel said with a nod. “Problem is Saturday’s half a week away. Dunno if Smiles should wait so long.”
Rosie crossed her arms pressing her pointer finger to one cheek as she considered his words. A slow, predatory grin came to her face.
Lucifer was now entirely confident he knew why she and Alastor were friends.
In addition to the mutual cannibal thing.
Wait, were all cannibals friends?
How did cannibals become friends with anyone else? Wouldn’t that be like hanging out with a sandwich?
Or maybe an egg?
He looked at the Egg Boi. No, apparently befriending eggs wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
He did a double take when he realized the egg was happily texting away on a hellphone.
How did a sentient egg have a cellphone when Alastor didn’t?
Also, who the fuck was texting with an egg?
“So, whaddya think?” Rosie asked.
Lucifer blinked. Think? Think about what?
Shit.
“Uh…”
Angel arched a brow. “Rosie said we should go up to the radio tower to talk to Al. That she knows how to get him to go to sleep.”
“How?” Lucifer asked, looking back to her in question.
She placed her hands on her hips, beaming. “Party plannin’!”
“…come again?”
“I mean, if ya insist~!” Angel said with a sly grin.
It took a moment for Lucifer to register what he said, face flushing when he did.
The flirting was…weird.
Weird but nice?
It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of experience with flirting. Or relationships. Aside from his imploded marriage, of course. He had loads of experience with marital carnage!
He internally winced. Not exactly the sort of thing he wanted experience with.
Angel’s grin shifted to a slight frown. “Uh…sorry. I can stop flirtin’ with ya if it makes ya uncomfortable?”
Had he accidentally externally winced?
What was his face doing right now?
Lucifer reached up as if stroking an imaginary beard.
Frowning, he was frowning.
And now he was rubbing his naked chin like an idiot.
Why was it so much easier to fight off an army of exorcists than to interact with his daughter’s friends?!
“No! No, no, no, it’s totally fine!” he insisted, waving his hands. “What’s a little flirting between…uh…between..?”
“...friends?” Angel hazarded.
Lucifer’s eyes went wide.
But Angel was Charlie’s friend, wasn’t he? Could he be friends with Charlie and him?
Was that legal?
He was the King of Hell! Of course it was legal! He was the law, dammit!
“…yup! Yes! Uh, yes, friends!”
Charlie, having finally begun to calm down, positively wailed at the words, burying her face once more in Vaggie’s soggy shoulder. “W-We’re all friends!” she sobbed.
You know what? The sooner they put baby down for his nap, the sooner Lucifer could get his damn foot out of his mouth. He needed to go back to his suite and recoup what little self-esteem he had after all his social blunders.
Also, he was NOT climbing a ladder or however the fuck Alastor got into his gaudy ass tower. Besides, Alastor had an actual suite too. It’s not an invasion of privacy if it’s not his actual rooms right?
Lucifer snapped his fingers and suddenly all of them were standing in the surprisingly roomy radio tower. A quick glance around confirmed what Lucifer had already fully expected.
Everything was fucking red. The windows, the desk, the chair, the fucking lampshade.
Lucifer paused. Were those cattails sprouting up between the floorboards? And was that an antler coat rack?
And this bitch had the nerve to call him tacky?!
Alastor presently sat in the chair in front of his soundboard, his back to them. Lucifer fully expected him to whip around with a snarl or (he hoped) at least jump in surprise. He remained alarmingly still, with not so much as a twitch of his ears at their sudden arrival.
“…uh…Alastor?” Charlie hazarded, his lack of reaction enough to put a pause on her waterworks.
No response.
“…Alastor, are you okay..?”
“Charlie,” Rosie began, catching her arm as she tried to step toward the demon.
Lucifer steeled himself as he leaned around the chair to see Alastor’s face. A chill ran down his spine when he realized he was staring fixedly out the window, eyes wide and unblinking. The faint sound of static steady increased and decreased.
…what the actual fuck???
“Ya Highness!” Rosie whisper hissed at him.
He ignored her, waving a hand in front of Alastor’s face.
His hand was shoved down onto the soundboard and Lucifer let out a yelp of mingled surprise and pain at the manhandling. He was so stunned it took him a moment to register he was now sandwiched between the soundboard and the deer demon. The motherfucker had just bent him over his desk and…and!!!
Oh, hell. This had better not awaken something in him.
Lucifer decidedly ignored the part of him very much interested in being awakened, if the sudden tightness in his slacks was anything to go by.
In his defense, it had been QUITE A FEW YEARS since he’d been this close to someone and then only with his WIFE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
He didn’t realize the claws of Alastor’s other hand dug into the skin over his jugular until Alastor pulled them away. The warm body pressed against his also eased back. Lucifer gave himself a moment to ensure his face no longer matched the awful decor before straightening and spinning around to point an accusing finger at his attacker.
He opened his mouth to berate him only to pause when he took in the unreal sight before him.
Alastor blinked owlishly down at him, hair ruffled. He was sans monocle and looked as if his brain had been turned off and on again. His usual smile was a ghost of its former self and he lacked his coat and gloves, the shirt sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up almost to his elbows.
He looked…naked?
And soft. Very, very soft.
How did he manage to look naked while still fully dressed? Lucifer felt his face warming again.
Alastor looked younger, too. How old had he been when he died? He hadn’t ever cared to find out, but now he wondered.
The bastard had the gall to reach up and rub one of his eyes, his ears tilting back from their usual position at attention.
Lucifer suddenly desperately wanted to pet those ears.
“…he was asleep,” Rosie sighed behind them.
Thankfully her comment interrupted whatever stroke Lucifer was in the midst of. He spun to face her. “What? No, he wasn’t! His eyes were open!”
Alastor turned his head to face the others, the movement oddly human instead of his usual creepy ass body horror one. He blinked owlishly at them too.
“He does that sometimes. Deer thing,” she added.
“What?”
He’d seen deer before in the Garden of Eden. A while ago sure, but still! They weren’t anything like the nightmare demon deer he was stuck with.
They definitely hadn’t slept with their eyes open.
…had they?
Everyone was staring at Alastor. The only ones who weren’t gobsmacked were Rosie and Niffty. Some of the awareness returned to Alastor’s face and he stood straighter, his coat, gloves, and monocle reappearing in the span of a blink.
“…to what do I owe the…pleasure?” he prompted, voice huskier and more radio-filter-y than usual.
“Sorry, hun,” Rosie said, stepping forward. “We came up to see if we could strong arm ya into lettin’ us help with the party plannin’.”
He perked up. “Rosie! Of course! So much to do and so very little time!”
Was the jackass ignoring him now or was he still half asleep? Lucifer scowled at the back of the demon’s head.
“We are so sorry, Alastor!” Charlie piped up. “We didn’t realize you were sle…resting! We can always leave and start on everything later!”
“Not necessary, my dear! Though I must admit I wasn’t expecting any guests. Welcome to my humble studio!” he said, gesturing across the space with a sweep of his arm.
“Way less bloodstains than I woulda thought,” Angel commented as he studied the wooden floors.
“Is there enough space up here for all of us?” Vaggie prompted.
Lucifer could relate. He wasn’t interested in being in close quarters with the Radio Demon either.
No, sir. Absolutely not.
He blinked and the room they stood in was significantly larger, now including what looked suspiciously like the furniture from the lobby.
Showoff.
A stack of red leather bound notebooks and a pile of red fountain pens appeared on the coffee table.
The magicked coffee was nowhere to be found.
Lucifer bet the ink in the pens was red too.
Ugh.
Rosie ushered Alastor over to one of the sofas, taking a seat beside him. She absently fanned her face.
“Al, hun, would ya be a doll and drop the temperature in here a few degrees? I got a little too warm on my walk over.”
“Of course!” Alastor said, the air instantly cooling as requested.
It was pretty sweltering in the radio tower. Not only did it look swampy, but it felt swampy too. Lucifer was grateful for the reprieve and even more grateful when Charlie patted the seat on the opposite sofa next to her and Vaggie. He beamed as he took it, in such a good mood he ignored the missing coffee and accepted one of the notebooks and pens from her. He flipped the cover back, almost disappointed to see the paper inside wasn’t red too.
“Ooh, sorry, I forgot ya run a lil’ cold!” Rosie said, slipping off a maroon shawl Lucifer was seventy-five…no, fifty percent sure she hadn’t been wearing before.
Had she? But if she had been, why didn’t she take it off rather than ask Alastor to adjust the temperature? Not that Lucifer was complaining.
Alastor gave a fond shake of his head as Rosie tucked the shawl around his shoulders.
“Not necessary, but appreciated nonetheless. Thank you, dear.”
Rosie beamed at him, grabbing them each a notebook and pen.
“Oh! Silly me! Almost forgot!” She leaned down to open the picnic basket at her feet.
Lucifer was eighty percent certain she’d brought it along with her.
Maybe even eighty-five percent.
Rosie pulled out a pink and white striped box with “Rosie’s Emporium” artistically rendered on its front. The sides folded neatly down when she opened it, revealing an elegantly arranged selection of raw sliced meat fashioned into roses.
Did she run a restaurant or some…
Oh, fuck, Lucifer was gonna be sick.
A quick glance around revealed everyone else had taken a keen interest in writing with their heads buried in their notebooks.
His lingering hope the delicate roses weren’t made of people was immediately dashed.
“…you okay, dad?” Charlie murmured.
He looked up at her, noting she looked as green as he felt.
Why the fuck was his daughter friends and business partners with a literal cannibal who was eatingsomeonerightinfrontofthem?!
…to be fair, Alastor had also eaten the loan sharks right in front of them. Had eaten them alive, in fact.
How was this somehow worse?!
…what happened to his insides when he shrank back down after? Did he have a black hole for a stomach?
Better yet, what happened to the clothes and weapons the sharks had?
Lucifer barely suppressed a shudder.
Nope. He wasn’t going to think about that anymore because he did not want to know.
Had he really gotten flustered when Alastor bent him over his desk?
Well, safe to say that was never happening again!
The desk part and the lingering arousal!
Wait, lingering?!
Charlie was still looking at him.
Shit. Had she said something? What had she said?
Oh, she wasn’t looking as green anymore!
Lucifer hazarded a glance back toward the pair of cannibals, relieved to see the box of people meat flowers was gone.
Rosie met Charlie’s eyes, subtly tilting her head and the giant hat on it toward Alastor. The Radio Demon was nestled in the corner of the sofa, one hand absently playing with a tassel on Rosie’s shawl while the fountain pen he held in the other flitted back and forth across his fingers. He blinked slowly down at the blank notebook in front of him.
Whatever silent conversation they had was lost on Lucifer. Charlie smiled and gave a sharp nod.
“All right, everyone! How about we spend some time brainstorming our ideas first, and then we can share them and vote on the best ones! How does that sound?”
“Brainstorm what, exactly?” Vaggie asked.
Charlie looked pointedly to Alastor and Angel. Angel ignored her, looking only at Alastor.
“I’ll handle the music,” Alastor stated, a husky note back in his voice. “But we’ll need plenty of refreshments. Foods easy to eat while dancing.”
“Coffee’d prolly be good too,” Angel added.
“Not from pods,” Alastor said, cutting his eyes in Lucifer’s direction.
Lucifer’s own eyes narrowed. “We’ll need decorations too,” he retorted. “Something with some actual color to it. Don’t want to bore anyone with a bunch of monochrome.”
Alastor smiled at him, fangs appearing sharper and deadlier after his recent meal.
“Or subject them to any tacky circus decor,” he answered, smile widening.
They stared each other down, the silent battle ending only when Alastor suddenly yawned, revealing even more sharp teeth and reminding Lucifer of a sleepy KeeKee.
Everyone froze, attention glued to the Radio Demon. They hurriedly looked elsewhere the instant he stopped.
Rosie hid a discreet laugh behind her hand.
Lucifer was surprised the demon didn’t apologize for the faux pas, what with his weirdly impeccable manners despite being a sadistic murderer. Had he not even realized what happened?
“Speaking of music, would ya mind puttin’ some on, Al?” Rosie asked.
“But of course!”
The soundboard behind him lit up. A jazzy tune featuring a clarinet began to play. It sounded familiar, though Lucifer couldn’t recall the song’s name. His foot began to tap of its own accord in time with the beat and he found himself softly humming along.
He definitely knew this song.
…why was it the harder he tried to remember the name of it, the more intensely it eluded him?
Alastor tilted his head, studying him with an expression Lucifer also infuriatingly couldn’t put a name to.
As the song wound down, Rosie rested a light hand on Alastor’s arm.
“You know I love Sweet Georgia Brown, but how about somethin’ a little…” She pursed her lips. “Softer? To help get everyone into a real thinkin’ mood?”
Sweet Georgia Brown! …wait, had he remembered it himself or did he only remember it because she’d said it first?
No, he definitely remembered before she said it!
Alastor considered her request, tapping his chin with his pen. The tremulous sound of strings rose and fell in the air, an achingly familiar man’s dulcet tones accompanying them.
Lucifer perked up. “Stardust!”
Alastor tilted his head in the opposite direction. “You’re familiar?”
Charlie grinned. “Oh, dad loves music! He used to always listen to your sho—“
Lucifer flailed, somehow losing hold of his pen. It soared through the air and Vaggie leaned across Charlie to catch it. He snatched it back from her, staring unseeingly down at his notebook.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
No. Absolutely not. He would never give the insufferable prick the satisf—
“Oh~?” Alastor purred. “And here I thought you’d never heard of my radio broadcast!”
Lucifer side eyed one of the windows that wrapped around the room.
Would a fall from this height kill him?
Please let a fall from this height kill him.
As if sensing his thoughts, Charlie wrapped her hand around his upper arm, holding him in place.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dad!”
Oh he begged to differ.
“Always such a joy to meet a fan,” Alastor insisted.
Lucifer could hear his stupid smile in his stupid voice.
“There’s not exactly a whole lot of entertainment to be had down here!” he protested. “Between your subpar radio show and the obnoxious tv man, I chose the lesser of two evils! The one that wouldn’t rot my brain out of my head! Have you seen the absolute horseshit he airs?!”
“Yeah, I Fucked Ya Sister, So What?” Angel offered.
Lucifer paused. “…come again?”
Angel snorted out a laugh. Lucifer felt his face warm for the thousandth time that afternoon.
“The! Show!” Angel managed between peals of laughter.
Lucifer stared, utterly horrified. “That’s an actual show?”
“Vox has always been more concerned with quantity over quality,” Alastor said, still having the nerve to look smug. “He doesn’t care what he airs so long as people watch.” His lip curled back in a sneer he somehow managed without breaking his smile.
They really were in Hell. He and Alastor actually agreed on something.
Maybe he could use this tangent to keep the smarmy bastard from further inflating his own ego.
“You’re, what, frenemies?” He was pretty sure he’d heard something along those lines.
Alastor’s eye twitched. “Enemies, I assure you.”
“Ol’ Voxxy has always been jealous of our Alastor,” Rosie added with a proud gleam in her eye.
Y’know, if eyes the equivalent of black pits could gleam.
“Clout chasing mediocre video podcast,” Alastor muttered to himself.
The fuck did he just say?
Lucifer set his notebook in his lap, holding both hands up. “Hold on, lemme get this straight. You don’t even have a hellphone, but you know what all those words mean?”
He didn’t even know what some of them meant, but they sounded like the new lingo getting thrown around these days.
Right? He wasn’t becoming more outdated than this geezer, was he?
“Yeah, who even taught ya what ‘that’s the tea’ means?” Angel asked. He shot Rosie a doubtful look.
Alastor barked a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“That’s why I’m askin’, ain’t it?”
Was he the type to have a secret hellphone? No, Lucifer doubted it. He was nosy as fuck though. Probably learned it all while eavesdropping. He’d caught shadows around the hotel moving of their own accord more than once.
Speaking of, what even was Alastor’s shadow? At present it mirrored him where it rested against the wall, though its eyes (?) were on Lucifer.
Had been for a while too.
“What the fuck is that?” Lucifer asked, pointing.
Alastor flicked an ear as he glanced over his shoulder. “Perhaps you should get your eyes checked. That is what we call a wall.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You know what I mean.”
Alastor turned back to him, brows lifting in mock concern. “Goodness, you don’t know what a shadow is either?”
“Yeah, if that thing is just a shadow, I’ll eat my hat.”
A laugh escaped Alastor before he could stop it. It was nothing like his usual maniacal cackling. It sounded…surprised? It was so quiet Lucifer almost missed it.
Hang on, had he just made Alastor laugh? And not at his own expense?
Now it was his turn to be smug.
Alastor’s creepy shadow, however, was still laughing, doubled over with its hands pressed to its middle. Alastor shot it an annoyed look and it quickly sobered, wiping a mirthful tear from its eye as it resumed copying him.
What had it been doing again when Lucifer healed him? He struggled to think back.
Alastor had been an asshole, like always, acting like he was the one doing Lucifer a favor by letting him patch up his angelic wounds. Lucifer was reluctantly impressed by his pain tolerance, given the severity of the damage and the added agony he knew came along with healing it.
Alastor had sat there breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth, even though Lucifer was fairly certain he didn’t actually need to breathe. Fucking freak. His ears stood so straight on his head, they trembled with the effort. The only other physical sign of his discomfort was the tightness around his eyes.
His shadow, though… It had hunkered against the wall, ears flat to its head and arms wrapped tightly around itself. It had shuddered and seemed to gasp for breath, its smile more like a grimace.
Did it indicate what he was really feeling? If so, was it less magic and more an extension of himself? Like his microphone?
Sure, Sinners came in all shapes and sizes, but they weren’t usually as unique as the Radio Demon. In fact, all of the Overlords stood out in a crowd. Was it because of the power they acquired? Or had they come into Hell like that?
Lucifer wasn’t the most observant person. It was only a millennia after his fall that he found himself wondering just how Sinners came into their abilities. Was it possible the greater their sin was in life, the greater their power in death? How did that make sense from an eternal punishment standpoint? Or were their exceptional abilities just a reminder life wasn’t fucking fair?
He’d long lost interest in keeping up with all the petty power plays among Sinners, but even he heard about Alastor when he showed up almost a century earlier. It wasn’t often a freshly dead Sinner shook things up.
Of course if he’d known said Sinner would eventually become involved with his daughter, going so far as to strike a deal with her, he might’ve taken matters into his own hands back then.
Or not…
As much as he hated the guy, and as horrible as he was, Lucifer was aware Alastor had some kind of fucked up moral code. There weren’t a lot of other Sinners he could say the same for. Alastor had toppled all of the nastier ones who’d preceded him in death.
Not that his ends remotely justified his means...
Bastard.
What the hell did Charlie see in him? There was no way he was vying for redemption, regardless of whether or not he was helping with the hotel. He almost got himself killed during the battle against the Exorcists. He even sent his troublemaking girlfriend on her way after she put the hotel in jeopardy.
Wait, was the blonde his girlfriend? Was Rosie his girlfriend?
Was he even straight?
Now THAT was DEFINITELY none of Lucifer’s business or concern. He certainly didn’t care. It was just fleeting curiosity.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the little desk incident.
Alastor’s shadow was staring at him again. He scowled back in retaliation. It responded by giving a jaw cracking yawn. It looked exhausted.
Could shadows be exhausted?
As he watched, its head dipped down and it jerked itself back upright, rubbing its eyes. Lucifer hazarded a glance at Alastor. He was nestled in the corner of the sofa, Rosie’s shawl bunching up around his neck.
Was he slouching?!
His eyes slid closed.
Rosie covertly checked on him before giving a wide smile to the others, accompanied by a gentle shooing gesture.
They slowly rose to their feet, tiptoeing to the trapdoor in the center of the room. Lucifer remained rooted to the spot, staring at Alastor. Charlie motioned for him to follow. He set his notebook and pen down on the couch cushion beside him, as gently as if it were a landmine, before easing himself to his feet.
Alastor’s unfocused eyes snapped open. Rosie flapped her hand at him, silently pleading for him to sit back down. Alastor’s shadow stared intently at him. Lucifer shot Charlie a pleading look. She gave him not one, but two thumbs up before vanishing through the trapdoor with the others, closing it soundlessly behind her.
Alastor’s shadow began to nod off again, still staring at him when its eyes were actually open. When its head finally dropped so its chin rested on its chest, Rosie leaned over and used the tips of her fingers to slide Alastor’s eyelids closed. He made a soft sound in response, but didn’t stir otherwise.
Oh, no. Was he going to have to stay here until he woke up?!
Rosie gave him a reassuring look as her hand drifted up to scratch at the base of Alastor’s right ear. The remaining tension in his thin frame vanished and he sank heavily against her side, leaning into her touch.
Like a fucking cat. Or dog.
…deer?
Whatever!
Rosie smiled down at the top of his head as she slid her left arm around his shoulders, pillowing his cheek on her puffy shoulder pad and switching her scratching to his left ear instead.
Lucifer gawked. He didn’t realize his mouth was hanging open until he went to speak. He caught himself before he could actually say anything.
This all reminded him so much of when Charlie was little. He’d always been the one to finally get her to sleep, oftentimes falling asleep in the process himself. He’d lost count of the number of times he woke up with a crick in his neck and a drool soaked shirt from where Charlie smushed her face into his chest.
It spoke volumes Rosie was allowed such liberties with the deer. There was no doubt in Lucifer’s mind that if anyone else even thought about touching his ears, their hand would be in the demon’s stomach before they knew what happened.
Alastor’s smile shrunk down to something resembling a normal human expression.
Human. He had been human, hadn’t he? It was easy to forget sometimes. Rosie hadn’t though. She was Hellborn, which meant she could travel freely across all the Rings of Hell. Yet she set up shop in the Pride Ring.
…probably for easy access to fresh meat…
Ew.
Less gross thoughts, Luce!
Of course trying to think of something else reminded him how he wanted to scratch behind Alstor’s other ear SO BADLY.
He clenched his fists resolutely in his lap. He wasn’t the best at impulse control on a good day, but consent was important to him. He’d wager it was important for the Radio Demon too.
…too bad he’d never get it…
His ears looked SO SOFT.
Lead us not into temptation.
Lead ME not into temptation.
Was it sacrilegious to evoke the Lord’s Prayer in Hell? Did it really matter? Where else could he go? Super Hell? Super Duper Hell? 2 Hell 2 Furious?
Where had that last one even come from..?
Lucifer sighed, slumping in his seat.
“It’s probably safe to go now,” Rosie whispered.
He glanced at Alastor’s shadow.
Were those literal z’s floating from its mouth and across the wall?
“Although…”
He arched a brow.
Rosie considered him a long moment before continuing, “No offense, but ya look like ya could use a break too.”
What a polite way to tell him he looked like shit.
Healing the stubborn demon had taken a lot out of him and, unfortunately (in his opinion at least), he didn’t have the kind of depression that would allow him to hibernate himself into a stupor.
Nope.
He got to spend all the hours he wished he could sleep with crippling insomnia instead!
“I've got two shoulders, ya know?”
Wait, what?
“Alastor struggles with windin’ down too. Hard for him to let his guard down. I’ve picked up some tricks after almost a hundred years with him. But once he’s out, he’s out.”
Lucifer’s apple topped cane reappeared in his hands and he absently drummed his fingers against it.
This was ridiculous.
He was the literal King of Hell.
This woman was a CANNIBAL.
The stupid deer was RIGHT THERE too.
And yet…
Lucifer never had a mother. He didn’t know if Rosie had any children either. Regardless, she seemed so…motherly right now. He found himself aching for the peace and warmth she’d cocooned Alastor in.
When was the last time he’d experienced something like this?
Had he ever?
Lilith wasn’t exactly the cuddling type. Would this count as cuddling? Platonic cuddling? Could you platonically cuddle?
Was this weird?
It was definitely weird.
Rosie continued to smile invitingly at him, all of her sharp teeth mercifully hidden behind her black lips.
Before he realized what he was doing, Lucifer was on his feet.
He stood there, frozen in place.
“Ya don’t have to,” Rosie added. “I don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable. Though I gotta admit, I’m real good at keepin’ mum.”
She had to be if Alastor trusted her so implicitly.
Lucifer willed his feet to move…somewhere. He remained rooted to the spot.
A sudden shove between his shoulder blades left him pinwheeling to keep himself upright. He whipped his head around to find the offender, but there was nothing there.
What the fuck?
What other weird shit did Alastor have in here?
Whatever it was, it made the decision for him and Lucifer tentatively stepped around the coffee table to sit on Rosie’s other side. This close, he could hear the steady rise and fall of static from the deer demon.
The soundboard was off, but soft instrumental jazz continued to play soothingly around them. Despite the strangeness of it all, Lucifer’s eyelids grew heavy.
Rosie gently wrapped her other arm around his shoulders, slowly drawing him closer while also giving him enough time to pull away if he wanted to.
He didn’t want to.
She removed his hat, setting it on the back of the sofa, and then twined her fingers into his hair.
He’d watched her pet Alastor, but he hadn’t expected the same treatment.
When was the last time Lilith played with his hair?
Centuries ago?
Never?
Charlie used to when she was younger, trying her utmost to braid the short strands.
Emotion swelled behind his sternum and his eyes and throat began to burn.
Her soft touch was almost too much.
It had been too long.
His skin felt like there were ants marching under it.
He should get up.
He should really get up.
His discomfort gradually faded. Rosie shifted to delicately massaging his scalp and his eyes slid closed. He barely had time to register he was falling asleep before the blessed empty darkness took hold.
Lucifer couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.