Chapter Text
Alastor steps out of the shadows and back into the Hazbin Hotel.
He pulls a handkerchief out and dabs at his lips, where doubtless blood is still dripping, and straightens his bowtie.
He’s still tense, his fury not entirely abated by the violent turn he permitted his mission to take. Ah, well, he achieved what he’d set out to do earlier that morning – with Charlie’s blessing, no less, and he does need to report to her.
But first, he really ought to change. The Princess does not especially seem to mind when he appears before her covered in gore – and if she did, perhaps he’d have to do so anyway, by way of a reminder what Hell is truly like – but she is a lady all the same, and his maman taught him better than that.
The mirror in his room is finally reflecting a presentable demon back at him, when his shadow tugs at his sleeve. Alastor hates how easily he can communicate with whatever mockery of his soul his shadow is meant to be, he wishes he could force it to articulate its thoughts – then perhaps there might be someone down here with whom he could have good conversation. Other than Rosie, he supposes.
In any event, his shadow conveys that there appears to be some commotion in the lobby.
Alastor freezes as he’s pulling his second glove back on. Surely not another sabotage attempt, not so soon after – ? His shadow shakes its poorly defined head, and he relaxes a little, but it still looks awfully distressed.
“What, then?” he demands, and his shadow disappears, Alastor’s cue to borrow its vision to see whatever it means to be showing him.
And his blood runs cold.
This is possibly even more irritating than another Hellborn assault on the Hazbin Hotel.
Charlie, bless her soul (insofar as demons can request for souls to be blessed, and insofar as the princess of Hell’s soul is even a candidate for a blessing), is in front of her favourite drawing board, evidence of the six sabotage attempts endured in as many months pinned before her. She’s pulling at her hair, which is quite the mess, and shrilly crying at her lady friend. Angel and – and Husker and Niffty (Alastor huffs, why aren’t they at their stations?) watch with compassionate expressions on their faces, while Charlie wails that she does not know what to do to ensure this does not happen again.
Alastor’s shadow has reported an identical scene to him before. He knows how this will play out.
And he does not like it.
Sure enough, history repeats itself, because the useless lot gathered downstairs are fools who do not learn from their mistakes.
Vaggie puts an arm around Charlie’s shoulders and says the dreaded – yet inevitable – line.
“Maybe it’s time we called your dad. Again.”
Charlie, the silly, idealistic little girl that she is, agrees.
Alastor drops the connection with his shadow, seething. He throws his coat back on and heads back out. A few more of those treacherous suppliers could surely stand to be eaten without impeding their renewed contracts with the Hazbin. Charlie doesn’t need to know about this little treat to himself – call it a self-appointed bonus for his hard work.
He tries to calm his mind as he storms out. He had this, he can protect the Hazbin Hotel just fine , there is absolutely no reason to call the king. How does it look, if he’s the hotel’s designated protector, yet Lucifer keeps having to step in whenever Charlie has a flicker of doubt?
And fine, Alastor is swifter at hitting back at attacks against the hotel of the violent sort. Visible and immediate threats are no trouble at all. Every sinner in the Pride Ring knew to fear him, to leave him and the hotel he guards well alone. He’s never really had any trouble with the Hellborn one might come across in Pride either.
The problem is that it’s been Hellborn from other Rings coming at them, of late.
Charlie did not defend the Hazbin Hotel against Heaven as a publicity stunt – but it might as well have been exactly that, given the effect it has had. The fact that any of them survived the battle at all – Alastor was actually quite certain they’d all survived, but there was some mourning going on over the next few days, so he guesses that perhaps not – was historical news, for Hell. Afterlife changing.
Sinners flocked to their doors after that, thinking they might actually be protected here, next time Heaven returned. There was lucidity there, expecting Heaven’s return. Though they’ve heard nothing since.
Naturally, because sinners are often simply born out of weak will rather than a real desire and passion for sin like himself, many gave up, and left again when faced with Charlie’s redemption regimen. But ah, c’est la vie , you win some you lose some. As Alastor told Charlie when she wondered what she’d done wrong.
What none of them foresaw, irritatingly, was that the Hellborn started to take an interest in the Hazbin as if it was some sort of… tourist attraction. Then Hellborn from other Rings started showing up as well, all too eager to record their visits, snapping pictures, many even staying a night or two. The conversation around the Hazbin Hotel turned it into the place to be, as if anything about it was fashionable.
Though he supposes that the bar for ‘fashionable’ in Pride is literally in Hell.
Charlie had been hesitant to welcome the Hellborn in to begin with, the poor dear utterly baffled, since Hellborn cannot possibly attempt redemption. But the reality was that they had plenty of spare rooms, and Alastor saw this as an opportunity to improve the state of their treasury – there being no reason not to charge non-sinners for their stay.
This worked well for a little while.
Until the popularity of the Hazbin attracted the jealousy of the owners and managers of the star hotels of the other rings.
And, goodness, are they petty.
In no time at all, troublemakers selling their services to their envious competitors had infiltrated the ranks of the Hazbin’s guests, corroding the functioning of the Hotel in a plethora of aggravating ways. Some of their rivals, it seems, have more of a sense of humour, and destabilised the Hazbin in ways Alastor could see to be a prank. Trouble is, on the scale of immortal and insouciant beings, a ‘prank’ has the unfortunate tendency to do quite a number on the resident sinners. At the other end of the scale, some attempts on the Hazbin Hotel’s integrity (both structural and reputational) proved to be deeply damaging.
The additional work this piled on the Hazbin’s staff, and on Alastor’s back in particular, was infuriating. Doubly so, since the Hellborn came organised and prepared in ways ill-intentioned sinners in Pride never seemed to, so Alastor never managed to catch on early enough to prevent anything from happening. And neither did anybody else.
And so they were constantly mopping up the damage in the aftermath.
This does have Alastor vaguely intrigued about the other Rings. Pride is predictable in her violence, sinners demonstrating time and time again just how much they are slaves to their baser instincts. The harassment from the other Rings is slightly more interesting, but also a real pain in his side, since it’s so much harder to contend with.
The most recent machinations against the Hazbin Hotel, however, got one of Alastor’s friends mixed up in the mess, and that was an overstep he could not abide by. Not that she’d be especially bothered about harming this endeavour he’s entangled with, but it made things feel more… personal? Somewhat. At least, enough so that he could run the ‘personal’ argument by Charlie, and finally be given permission to resort to a little more violence in restoring things than usual. Which is about as personal as anything needs to get with anyone.
Tragically, decimating a few more meek sinners does not take him very long, and by the time he returns to the hotel, the reclusive ruler is already standing in the lobby, a ringmaster surrounded by his most colourful clowns.
Alastor’s eyes catch on his animated movements. So showy, so unbothered by the space he takes. Alastor grits his teeth. He’s not surprised the king came so quickly – why, he took so long to join the fight against Heaven, of course he needs to demonstrate now that he’s not slow at everything.
It’s a blessing Lucifer felt enough shame not to stay at the Hazbin Hotel when all was done and dusted, traipsing straight back to his ivory tower at the end of it all. Or maybe Alastor is being too generous to him, all things considered, maybe it wasn’t justified shame, maybe he really just failed to realise his daughter actually wanted him to stay. Maybe he remained totally oblivious to the fact that she’d hoped for him to remain at her side at the Hazbin Hotel, despite the huge apple shaped room clearly meant for him. That they built. Together.
Alastor shakes his head. What an idiot.
And Charlie called on this mess of a man for a quick fix to a problem that more likely than not would have gone away on its own. It’s not like her father is going to turn around and suddenly become a reliable figure in her life now.
Alastor approaches the little gathering, because as much as their king is a sight that causes sore eyes, there’s no information like first hand information. He supposes he ought to listen in.
Ah, it appears Charlie is catching Lucifer up on everything he missed – or, well, rather, everything related to the incidents involving the other Rings. It would take too long to get into her entire childhood, of course.
Charlie walks Lucifer through what each Ring’s prized hotel has done to the Hazbin, one after the other. She must be reliving the events in her head, poor girl, and everyone else must be watching her – otherwise it would be impossible to miss how the king stands there with a broad grin on his face, and no apparent thought behind his eyes. Why, it’s like he was just pleased that Charlie called upon him at all, and that he is unable to process a single thought beyond that.
Alastor bites his tongue to avoid interrupting Charlie with his exasperation. He knew it, Alastor is the one meant to protect the Hazbin Hotel, there really was no need to call upon this blubbering buffoon. Especially now that Heaven isn’t even involved. Do they think him not capable? He’ll need to make sure he checks in with Charlie more often. He cannot believe he’s been blindsided like this.
The young girl is finally wrapping up her explanations.
“And so we need this to stop, enough is enough – but at the same time, we do still need those suppliers, we kinda don’t have that many options, so…” She trails off, and spots Alastor as she fidgets. “Ah, Alastor, you’re back!”
She looks pleased for a moment – and then ill, as her eyes dart between him and her father. She soldiers on valiantly nonetheless.
“Uhm, so I’d asked Alastor to sort that out for us… How did it go?” She asks, pivoting between the two men.
“All fine, of course, my dear. I’m pleased to report that our initial prices have been restored.” He catches the grimaces Lucifer and Vaggie are pulling as they stare at his outfit, ah, well, he did not have the time to change a second time.
“And they will think twice about trying to undermine us like that again,” Alastor adds, just to make sure they know those blood splatters they’re gawking at did in fact come from his work, and he did not just stop on the way back for a snack. “See, all dealt with! And since everything is in order… Have you invited your father to reside with us as a guest once more, to show off just how successful you are when surrounded by the right people?”
He throws an arm around Charlie for emphasis. Lucifer’s eyes flash red and yellow repeatedly, like a neon warning sign, how fun. Alastor simply grins down at him and waits.
“Ah, no, not really, actually…” She laughs nervously, and delicately shrugs him off. Oh well. “Look, every Ring has had a go at us, and I’m nervous they’ll try again if we don’t stop them. So,” she drags out the “o” in that dramatic little way of hers, “I was hoping Dad might be able to suggest a solution in dealing with them. Like, would they be more responsive to a letter, or a phone call, or should I try to meet the other hotel managers in person…?”
The king blinks dimly a couple of times, before it hits him that her last question was aimed his way.
“Woah, you want to engage with your competitors? You know, that’s, uh, that’s not really how it’s done. You don’t want to be seen as, hmm, making backdoor agreements with any of them, that’s pretty anti-competitive –”
“Their constant attacks on our hotel is pretty anti-competitive, Dad!”
“Oh, yeah, okay,” Lucifer hums, and how is no one else realising he barely followed a word Charlie has said? Alastor can tell he’s trying to replay the past five minutes or so in his brain, looking for a recording he can watch because he definitely was not paying attention during the live show.
“Dad,” Charlie urges, “for all we know, there’s already another plot at play right now, and it’s going to take us another couple of weeks to realise –”
And that’s quite enough of that, it will do none of them any good for Lucifer to realise they keep taking so long to catch the trouble brewing in their midst, so Alastor jumps in.
“Perhaps your Majesty might be able to have a word with your counterparts in the other Rings – why, how difficult can it be to order one’s subjects to leave the princess’s pet project well alone?”
Lucifer glares at him, like he’s offended at the thought of Alastor even speaking to him. Clearly, very little has changed since their first interaction less than a year ago – and Alastor can appreciate that. Infuriating as the king may be, Alastor had forgotten how fun it can be to wind up the tiny man, with so little effort too. It would have been quite the disappointment if he had grown (hah) above reacting so childishly to his taunts.
His question is reasonable enough, he made sure of that, which successfully forces the king to respond. Reluctantly. Good .
“I doubt it would be effective, there’s nothing in it for the Sins to help us out.” He shakes his head. “And I sincerely doubt they’ve got a firmer grip on their people than I do mine. Some of them probably even revel in the chaos and encourage it.”
Alastor is not surprised Lucifer is shooting down his suggestion, especially after turning down Charlie’s. But it strikes him that he’s not offering a solution, and so as they stand, he’s saying it is not worth contacting either their rival hotels, or the Ring’s leaders. Charlie seems to reach the same conclusion.
“Does that mean there’s nothing we can do?” She cries out, a harmonious blend of despair and frustration.
“No,” Lucifer replies matter-of-factly, “It just means I’ll have to employ a different method.”
“Oh? You?” Alastor cannot resist, “And how are you going to deter the Hellborn from doing as they please? They clearly do not fear you. I do believe you’ve missed this, but your symbol literally decorates this building, the hideously shaped room on the top floor, and that did not stop them. To anyone unfamiliar with your ways, it would have been an indication you were living here. I’m certain that was your daughter’s hope, as a matter of fact, but I suppose the Hellborn are used to you, and knew you wouldn’t hang around for long. So, what are you going to do, haunt them – wait, no, what’s that term Angel is so fond of – ah yes, ghost them too?”
“Alastor, please,” Charlie shushes him with a flick of her hand.
Alastor narrows his eyes at the gesture, but he’s more irritated by the fact that Lucifer actually remains calm and unperturbed, and does not rise to the bait. It appears that his mind is already on something else, something even peskier than Alastor, and that just won’t do. Can the king only direct his rage at one thing at a time? Pity. What a waste of a taunt.
But then Lucifer begins to mutter, seemingly as much to himself as to his audience. “So they’ve been fucking with Charlie’s hotel, huh…”
Alastor’s ears perk up and tune in despite himself. It seems like the king’s brain does have a recording function after all, and that he’s mostly caught up on the situation, at last.
And Lucifer does not like what he’s hearing.
His tail lashes at the air behind him, a tell of levels of anger that Alastor hasn’t unlocked for himself. Yet .
He’s an optimist by nature.
“What, they think we’re going to prevent Heaven from messing with Charlie’s dream, but that they’re going to get a pass? No… no.” Lucifer continues to mutter. A small spark springs from the Devil’s palm, and it strikes Alastor how similar it looks to when his own hand goes to strike a deal. Just different coloured sparks.
“Charlie.” And suddenly Lucifer returns to the affable airs he tries to maintain in front of his daughter. “I will let the other hotels know what it feels like. To work so hard on something, only to have all that momentum… disrupted.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asks.
But Alastor knows what Lucifer means – this sounds an awful lot like revenge , and he is suddenly very interested. The king may have worded it mildly, but Alastor has no doubt that the display of anger he witnessed is only the tip of the iceberg. While Alastor still isn’t sure how supportive Lucifer is of Charlie’s dream, he knows he is entirely and single-mindedly protective of Charlie herself.
“I’ll pay them a visit, of course,” Lucifer replies, and oh , how wonderfully vague and promising.
He needs to see this – Alastor does not know where this need suddenly comes from, it simply is. The Hellborn have caused him enough trouble already, he really ought to leave it at that, but if there’s an opportunity to get back at them directly, himself… He certainly has enough rage to burn from all the extra work they’ve created for him.
He does not think any other Overlord has had the privilege of visiting other Rings. How special would that be? Quite the feat, and this time he’ll have stories to share when others inevitably ask about where he was.
Plus, the thought of the Devil unleashing his anger on those who’ve been ruining his schedule for the past six months sends a frisson of excitement up his spine.
“I’d be honoured to accompany you, your Majesty, as someone who experienced the events first hand, I can help ensure that your… communications are proportionate.” He does not give a single cornered and isolated fuck whether their ‘responses’ are proportionate, but this is all for show for Charlie.
Lucifer pulls a face, and goodness he can look so ugly when so visibly disgusted. The king does not even deign to reply, but Alastor can be obtuse when he needs to be. He bats his eyes innocently and bears his most polite smile. Lucifer recoils further.
“Okay, uh,” Charlie starts, drawing their attention back to her, “on one hand, I can see merit in Alastor going along –”
“Charlie, what, no,” Lucifer sputters, “I can handle the Hellborn just fine, don’t worry.”
“I know that, Dad, it’s not like I think you’d be unsafe out there, but they just clearly have it out for us. And so, uhm, look, on the off chance intimidation doesn’t work…” and perhaps Charlie does have a better sense of what’s being planned than Alastor initially gave her credit for, “having someone who can negotiate on the Hazbin’s behalf isn’t a bad idea.”
Alastor nods, although he has absolutely no intentions of playing nice. All the other hotels deserve to burn in an even deeper Hell, quite frankly.
Lucifer gasps, “Charlie, you don’t trust me to speak to –”
Alastor sounds off a loud laughing track that cuts him off right there, and Lucifer rounds on him instantly. Charlie not so much jumps as launches herself in.
“Okay, okay ! Jeez, you guys. The only thing is, we’ll need someone to protect the hotel in the meantime, that’s Alastor’s job…”
“Why, thank you, dear, I do my best,” Alastor says, smoothing down the front of his vest. “No need to advertise my absence, I’m sure it will not take long before all this is behind us. It’s unlikely sinners will try anything, but you can always speak to Rosie if you want a hand. Why, she loved you, and will not stop singing your praises in our recent correspondence.”
Alastor does not miss Lucifer’s absolutely pathetic, mournful gaze, at Charlie’s excitement as she asks after Rosie, most likely just self-aware enough to know she never asks about him in that manner from anyone.
“Alternatively,” he picks up the loose thread of conversation, “we do have enough guests and visitors to justify hiring security, if you wanted me to prepare contracts for you to use to go out and recruit before we go.”
“As much as I wouldn’t mind some fresh meat ‘round these parts,” Angel steps in, “it’s hard to know who we can trust anymore, with all that’s been happening lately. Charlie, Whiskers and I can probably hold the fort down, if it’s only for a few days.”
“What?” Ah, dear Husker, always a man of few words.
“Why, thank you for volunteering,” Alastor exclaims, “very good of you indeed, Husker.”
The oversized cat groans, but does not protest. Hmm, Husker knows better than to contradict him, but Alastor senses that the lack of complaints rather comes down to who the originator of the idea was. He’ll need to keep an eye on that.
Charlie reacts as emotionally as expected, with big, glistening eyes, a trembling lip, and profuse thanks.
“Right then,” Lucifer says, turning fully to Charlie once more, “so these guys are staying behind, but did your girlfriend want to come too?”
Charlie laughs, “Why would Vaggie go along? I’d rather she stay with me.”
“Hang on, now. You’re not coming?”
“Oh, well, you sounded like you got this…” Charlie shuffles nervously.
“Why, Charlie is the ruler of this particular castle,” Alastor interjects, “and she is a most dutiful leader, she would never abandon her adoring citizens – why, you know exactly how lost a people can get without guidance.”
For a split second, Lucifer’s face contorts in the most delightful way, how dangerous to be that much of an open book – but then it’s gone, Lucifer’s eyes flash, and the shadow of danger most decidedly shifts to hang over Alastor instead.
“And are you one of her adoring citizens?” Lucifer asks.
It’s glacial – the complete opposite to the burning fury he usually exhibits when responding to Alastor. It freezes in the pit of Alastor’s stomach. There is no correct answer. It’s a trap.
“I serve her most humbly, your Majesty,” he articulates cautiously, grin straining where it is forced to stay in place.
Lucifer hums dismissively, and he remains entirely angled towards his daughter alone. “I doubt derailing her conversation with me, when she asked me for a visit, serves her in any way. Or do you actually have something to contribute, buried under all the shit that spews from your mouth?”
Alastor is shocked, but finds himself reacting viscerally to something other than any of Lucifer’s words. “Look at me when you speak,” he hisses.
Lucifer does turn at that, one eyebrow raised. And then he smirks, “Nothing, then. In that case, just speak when spoken to.”
Alastor can feel his bones creak and contort, antlers clicking as new twines burst forth and reach out – but it’s all cut short as he feels a tug at his leg.
He looks down to find Niffty, looking up at him with her big, single eye. He inhales deeply and regains control of himself before addressing her. “Yes, my dear?”
She scrambles up his leg, then his back, and he refrains from wincing as she tugs at his hair to whisper at him. “Did you want me to stab the ultimate bad boy?”
Alastor lets a huff of laughter escape him, as he stage-whispers his response, “No, thank you, I was going to do that myself.” He shoots a dirty look at the king as he does so.
“But then, he’ll get mad at you, and then you might not be able to deal with the other bad boys who keep hurting the hotel and leaving big messes!” She whines. Loudly, and directly in his ear.
Alastor does not flinch, as that would upset her balance. “I would never allow such a thing to happen, dearest, don’t you worry now,” he pats her lightly on the back.
“But, also, Alastor,” she crawls her way to the top of his head, and leans down over his forehead to look him in the eye as she speaks. “I would really, really, like it if you made big messes in their hotels for me.”
His grin comes easier again. He can do that. “Thank you, Niffty, I’ll be sure to remember that.”
Alastor stays put as she finds her way back down, once satisfied with their little exchange, before stepping back up to Charlie and Lucifer. All traces of anger are gone, the latter is looking at him like he just started giving out balloons to children – which, Alastor supposes he just promised revenge to Niffty, it’s the same thing, really.
“Well! Time’s a-wasting,” he declares, and he hardly has to feign the enthusiasm. “One Ring or another – maybe even several! – may be progressing new nefarious plots against us as we speak. We should head out soon if we want to get the jump on them.”
Lucifer glares at him, and then calls out to the room at large. “Right, who else is coming?”
Silence greets him.
Charlie clears her throat, but it still comes out about as tense as Alastor has ever heard it when she says, “I think it’s just you and Alastor…”
Alastor would laugh at Lucifer’s expression if he weren’t feeling the edge of dread poking at him too – but it’s blunted by the promise of the entertainment he will find as he gets to mess both with their rival hotels, and with Charlie’s sad excuse of a father.
Who might actually try and get rid of him quietly while they’re out there and claim it was an accident. Alastor belatedly remembers to guarantee his own safety.
That’s easily enough done. “You will, of course, bring me back to your dearest daughter safe and sound?” he asks, only feigning disinterest enough for this comment to appear unremarkable to Charlie.
Getting the king to confirm that in front of her is better security than an actual deal would be.
As expected, Lucifer sees the strategy for what it is at once. “I think the only assurance you need is that if you don’t come back, I won’t be the reason for it.”
“Dad!” Thank goodness Alastor has spent time clueing Charlie in to the importance of specific terms. He got what he needed from her, and would prefer to pull that ladder up behind himself.
Lucifer’s eyes go wide at his daughter’s obvious concern, and he gives in immediately, promising her that of course, he’ll make sure her hotelier comes back in one piece (“and as alive as he is now,” he tacks on miserably when Alastor clears his throat).
The realisation of what he’s well and truly agreed to do sinks in and Lucifer’s face crumbles.
And Alastor knows this trip is going to be the one of an after-lifetime.