Chapter Text
The Hazbin Hotel was never quiet, but this morning the noise carried a completely different weight. A crowd of journalists swarmed the entrance like flies drawn to blood. Cameras, microphones, demonic drones hovering in the air, flashbulbs bouncing off the marble facade. Each shouted something different, but the meaning was the same.
"Your Majesty!"
"Is it true that the King of Hell is expecting a child?!
"Is the Radio Demon really the father?!
"Does this mean a change in succession?!
"Is the king fit to continue ruling?!
Lucifer stood on the second-story balcony, backed up behind a column so he couldn't be seen from below. One hand rested on the cold stone, the other instinctively on his stomach. His heart was beating faster than he would have liked.
This was exactly what he feared. Not curiosity—the hunt. And Alastor wasn't with him, having been summoned to resolve some conflict among the aristocracy. In the name of the king. Lucifer hated being away, and the crowd below only fueled his insecurity.
And then... silence fell.
Lucifer leaned forward slightly.
Roo stood on the stairs. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't shout. She didn't use magic—at least not openly. She simply was.
"There will be no interviews," she said calmly.
One of the journalists laughed. The noise reverberated again. Sinners shouted over each other, asking dozens of questions a second.
"You're standing on private property. You have ten seconds to disappear," she didn't shout. Her voice echoed with magic.
Someone tried to lift the camera. Someone else shoved a microphone under her nose. A sinner practically pinned her against the door.
Roo tilted her head. Magic began to build under her skin.
"Nine."
Someone tried to push her away, and that was a mistake. Roo's magic exploded. It was like a shockwave, knocking the sinners back twenty meters. Chains shot from her hands, wrapping themselves around the necks of the unfortunates closest to her. She pulled them down, forcing them to their knees. Dark green tentacles began crawling across the ground towards the terrified journalists. When one reached one of the targets, it wrapped itself around his leg, and he howled in pain. The flesh where the tentacle touched began to rot and disintegrate. Another tentacle reached its target. And another.
The sinners screamed in pain, losing limb after limb. When the rot reached their chests, it burrowed into their flesh, seeking their hearts. A moment later, two of the journalists... crumbled to dust.
The rest watched in pure horror. Then screams rang out. Panic erupted, and they retreated. Chaotic, frantic, filled with stumbling and dropped equipment. The drones went out one by one, as if someone were pulling their souls out.
A minute later, the hotel was empty.
Lucifer watched silently.
At Roo's straight silhouette. At the way she stood—as if the world owed her obedience. At the fear she left behind, hanging in the air long after the crowd had disappeared.
Something tightened inside him.
Not fear. Recognition.
He had seen similar ruthlessness in another person before. The same power. Determination. And calm.
He swallowed and wrapped his arms around his stomach.
***
Alastor returned late in the afternoon, clearly tired, but in a good mood—that peculiar, razor-sharp one of his. He hadn't even had time to take off his coat when Charlie almost bumped into him in the lobby.
"Alastor!" she blurted out. “Good thing you’re here!”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Did the world end while I was gone?”
“Not yet,” she replied quickly. “But the journalists. They were everywhere. They wanted to get to Dad.”
Alastor’s smile quivered—barely perceptibly.
“And?”
“Roo chased them away,” Charlie added. “Alone.”
There was a brief silence.
“I see,” Alastor said calmly. “Good job.”
Charlie blinked.
“No! That was terrible,” she screamed. “She… she chained them, and then… and then…” Horror and outrage fought for dominance in his eyes. “She made them rot!!!”
“Very impressive,” he replied, and moved on.
“Amazing?” she shouted after him. “She can’t kill sinners on the doorstep of a hotel!”
Alastor turned to her.
"She was only following my orders," he replied firmly. "I told her to kill anyone who got too close to Lucifer."
"They didn't even touch the door!"
Alastor rolled his eyes.
"It was enough that they trespassed."
The princess was ready to argue further, but Alastor disappeared into the shadows. He materialized in the wing where Roo's room was located. He knocked on her door and, after hearing the invitation, stepped inside. She was standing by the window, her arms folded across her chest.
“I heard you took over the morning shift,” he said, not getting too close.
Roo glanced at him. A smile curled around her lips.
“It was loud.”
Alastor stepped closer to her.
“Thank you,” he said.
That caught her attention more than anything else. Her smile widened.
“I was just doing my job,” she shrugged.
She sank into the armchair next to the window.
“Which, knowing Charlie, didn’t exactly meet with approval, did it?”
Roo shrugged.
“I don’t need her approval,” she said.
“She owns the hotel,” Alastor pointed out.
“But it’s thanks to you that it even functions.”
Her voice was quiet, calm. Her gaze was attentive and strangely soft. The smile continued to play on her lips.
He stepped closer, leaning in slightly. His hand found the back of the chair. Roo involuntarily moved closer to him.
"You inspired fear. Quick, flawless... ruthless. I'm impressed."
Roo quirked a lip.
"I learned from the best."
Their gazes met for a moment longer than necessary.
"Yes," Alastor admitted quietly. "I see."
Roo didn't look away. It was she who first allowed the silence to settle between them—heavy, sticky, exactly the kind of silence Alastor usually felt most comfortable in. This time, however, she controlled it.
"You look tired again," she said finally, almost gently.
Alastor raised an eyebrow.
"It happens to everyone."
Her fingers slid along the back of the chair, right next to his hand. She didn't touch him. Not yet. But the gesture was too precise to be accidental.
"I see it a lot lately," she continued. "The tension in her shoulders fades." Longer pauses between thoughts. You're increasingly allowing yourself to... react instead of calculate.
Alastor's smile didn't fade, but it narrowed.
"Are you watching me, Roo?"
"It's my job," she replied without hesitation. "Just like it's yours to watch others. And see things they don't want to see."
She looked up at him from under her lashes.
"Like the fact that Lucifer is weakening."
The air thickened.
"Careful," Alastor said quietly.
"Oh, I'm very careful," she assured him.
She rose from the chair. Her movement was slow, effortless. She stood opposite him, still maintaining a distance that was almost... intimate in its reserve.
"Pregnancy. Hormones. Emotions. Fear. Uncertainty." She listed without a hint of mockery. "And now this. The public. The media." Enemies who smell blood.
Her voice dropped a half-tone.
"He's exceptionally fragile now."
Alastor's smile wavered. Barely.
"Fragility can be... charming," he replied.
"It can also be dangerous," Roo corrected him. "Especially for someone like you."
She tilted her head, studying him carefully.
"You love power, Alastor. Control. Movements executed with precision, not out of a need for comfort. You need someone to bear the burden of everyday life with you."
She took a step closer. Now there was very little between them.
"Doesn't it really bother you," she asked quietly, "that you have to be a shield every day? That you have to be careful with your words, your gestures, your decisions... because someone you... love might break?"
The word hung between them.
You love.
Alastor's ear twitched, and his smile seemed to fade. Roo didn't miss it. Finally, the Radio Demon let out a short, dry laugh.
"Ah, Roo. You have a talent for the dramatic and for using big words for small things."
Roo narrowed her eyes. Her hand almost touched his.
"I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong," she added. "It's just... that you're paying more for it than you'd like to admit. And it's making you... predictable."
Her fingers withdrew almost immediately.
"And that doesn't suit you."
For a moment, Alastor said nothing. The radio on his staff hissed softly, as if reacting to the tension.
"You have some very bold theories," he finally said.
Roo's smile widened.
"But aren't they true?"
She turned toward the window, as if the conversation had just ended.
"Rest today," she said over her shoulder. "You'll be needed again tomorrow. And in the meantime, I can keep watch."
Alastor stared at her longer than he should have. Then he left without a word, feeling her watchful gaze on him.
***
Alastor stopped in the doorway.
Not because Lucifer was sitting and waiting—that happened often, ever since his stomach began to feel heavy mentally. He stopped because he sensed tension. Not anger. Not panic. Something worse. A cool, focused vigilance.
"How was your day?" Lucifer asked with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Alastor approached slowly, setting his staff down by the door.
"Productive. The aristocracy was being dramatic as usual, but no one lost their cool. Physically."
Lucifer nodded. He smiled—short, polite. Unlike him. Alastor felt the tension in the air. He knew they were going to have a difficult conversation and wanted to get to it before he fell asleep standing up.
"I heard what happened this morning," Alastor announced casually. "Apparently, Roo handled everything... efficiently."
Lucifer's fingers tightened in the fabric of his trousers.
"That's exactly what I wanted to talk about."
Alastor raised an eyebrow and sat down across from him. He untied his bow tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He settled back, keeping his gaze fixed on the nervous Lucifer.
"What's the matter?" he finally asked, though he knew the answer perfectly well.
There was a moment of silence. Lucifer took a deep breath, as if gathering his thoughts and courage. Finally, he blurted out in one breath:
“I don’t like Roo.”
Alastor’s smile didn’t fade, but… it hardened.
“That’s a rather general statement,” he observed. “Could you be more specific about what it is you don’t like about her?”
Lucifer stood. His stomach was growing heavier, so it took him a moment to regain an upright position. Alastor watched him like a predator as he began to pace the room with the expression of someone who would rather be anywhere else.
“She’s powerful,” Lucifer began. “Too powerful. And yet she works in a hotel that supposedly ‘helps sinners.’ As your assistant. A rather… insignificant role for a being like her, don’t you think?”
Alastor leaned back.
“Does power automatically preclude the ability to work?”
“No,” Lucifer replied immediately. “But intentions do.” Why would someone like that be here? What's in it for her?
Alastor spread his hands.
"I'm powerful too. And I work here too."
Lucifer snorted.
"Exactly."
The word cut through the air more sharply than Lucifer had intended.
"You're here too," he continued, his voice calm, but his eyes glinting with wariness. "You don't fit the idea of 'redemption' either. And you're not here out of altruism."
Alastor tilted his head.
"I never pretended I was."
"Exactly," Lucifer interjected. "You're here because... you get something out of it. First, your pact with Rose forced you into it. Then, your own manipulations."
Alastor didn't deny it. There was no point. They both knew the truth perfectly well.
"Roo's the same," Lucifer finished. "Or maybe worse, because I don't know what she wants. You're... predictable. She's not."
The radio on Alastor's staff hummed softly, as if reacting to the tension.
"Predictable?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes. He hated that word, and it had come from two people within a matter of minutes. "What do you mean?"
Lucifer rolled his eyes.
"You help run the hotel because it's entertainment for you," Lucifer declared. "You're not harming it because, for some strange reason, you care about me and Charlie. And you're probably here because you love arguing with Lilith."
Alastor's eyelid twitched. His ears twitched. His eyes remained narrowed. However, he allowed him to continue.
"You pose no threat to us because you're loyal to us."
Alastor strongly disliked Lucifer's tone. The king probably didn't realize it, but he was talking about him like a wild animal that had been domesticated. This awakened in the Radio Demon the urge to destroy a few things and kill a few sinners.
But he forced himself to sit on the couch. And that was the worst, because it proved Lucifer was right. They'd domesticated him, and he hadn't even noticed!
"Are you even listening to me?"
Alastor's thoughts returned to the present. He looked at Lucifer more closely.
"Roo is loyal," he announced.
"To whom?" Lucifer asked immediately.
Silence fell.
"To me," Alastor replied after a moment.
Lucifer began pacing the room again.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
Something burning rose inside Alastor. Anger—suppressed for now, but fueled by Lucifer's every word.
"Sounds like you don't trust me," he said quietly.
Lucifer stopped and looked at him, surprised.
"I trust you," he protested. "If I didn't, I wouldn't trust you with my duties and safety." He moved closer. "The problem is, you protect me... us from the world, from the Overlords, from sinners who seek weakness, and you don't see that danger might be right next to you."
Alastor's smile thinned like a blade.
"Roo isn't a threat."
"To you," Lucifer remarked. "But I don't know if he won't be to me... or to... them."
His hand fell to his stomach. The gesture was instinctive. Defensive. It was in that moment that something inside Alastor quivered. His ear twitched. The smile... faded.
“Do you think I would let anyone get close to you with impure intentions?” he asked quietly.
“I think,” Lucifer replied, “that sometimes you’re so focused on controlling the world that you don’t notice when someone starts controlling you.”
Alastor stood slowly.
“That’s a serious accusation.”
“It’s a warning,” Lucifer corrected him. “I don’t want you to fire her. I don’t want you to punish her. I just want you to pay closer attention.”
For a long moment, they stood facing each other in silence. Alastor was silent. And then… he laughed softly.
“Lucifer,” he said softly, almost amused. “I look at her. And you know what I see?” He tilted his head. “Someone who stood up for you today.”
The King of Hell stiffened.
“It was public,” he replied sharply. “In front of the hotel. In front of dozens of cameras.”
Alastor shrugged.
"The journalists crossed the line. They were punished in an exemplary manner."
"Exemplary manner?!" Lucifer raised his voice, his wings twitching nervously beneath his skin. "Alastor, she tore them to pieces! They fell to pieces! They rotted!"
He paused, catching his breath. His hand rested on his stomach again.
"I saw it," he added more quietly, but his voice quivered with anger. "I stood on the balcony and watched two sinners turn to dust. And you know what was worst?"
Alastor raised an eyebrow.
"Enlighten me."
"She was calm," Lucifer hissed. "Concentrated. As if she were going through her morning routine. Without a shred of hesitation."
Alastor's smile never wavered.
"Professionalism."
"Callousness," Lucifer corrected him. "And don't tell me it's normal, because I'm powerful too." And I know what losing control feels like. This..." he hesitated. "This was something else."
Alastor sighed dramatically.
"Roo acted according to my instructions."
"And that scares me," Lucifer blurted out. "Because if it's 'according to instructions,' then you have no problem with what she did."
A silence fell.
"I don't," Alastor confirmed calmly. "I do have a problem with someone trying to get close to you."
Lucifer looked at him incredulously.
"So that's all? Two dead sinners, panic, fear, gossip... and you consider that a success?"
"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "You're whole, and that's all I care about."
Lucifer turned abruptly, taking a few steps into the room.
"You really don't see it..." he said bitterly. "Roo isn't just protection. She enjoys violence. And you ignore it because it's effective."
Alastor narrowed his eyes.
"In Hell, efficiency always wins over gentleness."
"Not in my house," Lucifer retorted, turning back around. "And not in front of my children."
The word finally penetrated his calm. Alastor's ear twitched.
"You're exaggerating," he said coldly. "Emotions aren't your ally right now."
Lucifer gave a short, humorless laugh.
"Because I'm pregnant, I see more clearly. You can't sweep this under the rug just because Roo is comfortable and... so much like you."
He took a step closer.
"Don't make me choose between you and safety."
The silence that fell was heavy and uncomfortable. Alastor clenched his jaw in a furious smile. His hands trembled. He fought hard to contain the fury that simmered beneath his skin. His magic pulsed, eager to burst forth.
Lucifer still saw him as a threat. Dormant, domesticated, but still a threat.
Alastor finally looked away.
"This isn't a conversation we'll be having today. I'm too tired for your hormonally driven emotions," he announced coldly.
"It's not about my hormones!" Lucifer snapped. "She's just like you! We both know that if you ever decided to become our enemy, you'd be a huge threat."
That only added fuel to the fire.
Alastor narrowed his eyes.
"Then perhaps you should eliminate me before I become one?" he whispered. "Since you sound like it's only a matter of time."
Lucifer's eyes widened in horror. Only now did he realize how this all sounded.
"Al, I didn't mean to—"
"You've said enough today," Alastor interrupted. "I'm going to take a shower. We'll talk in the morning when my emotions have calmed down."
And when Alastor left, Lucifer was left alone, his hand on his stomach, the image of rotting flesh still burned behind his eyelids.
***
Pain woke Lucifer.
Not the dull, backache-like pain he'd grown accustomed to. It was sharp, sudden—as if something inside had broken and was trying to repair itself on its own, chaotic terms. The air caught in his lungs. His fingers gripped the sheets.
"...no," he whispered, before he was fully awake.
Something was terribly wrong.
He didn't need magic, visions, or other people's whispers. He simply knew. The children...moved differently. Too suddenly. Out of sync. As if one was reacting to the other's pain. A heat pulsed in his belly, quickly turning to icy cold.
Lucifer tried to rise—and hissed as another wave of pain ripped through his lower abdomen. His wings twitched spasmodically, thumping against the mattress.
"Alastor..." he cried hoarsely.
Silence.
His heart began to pound. He moved his hand across the sheets. Cold. Empty.
"Alastor!" his voice broke. "Alastor, please..."
The pain struck again, deeper this time, almost to his ribs. Lucifer doubled over, wrapping his arms around his stomach, as if he could protect the children with his own body.
"No... no, no, no," he muttered in panic. "It's too soon. Not yet."
His magic began to slip out of control. The light dimmed and flared, the walls of the chamber trembled slightly, reacting to his fear.
"Alastor!"
The shadow tore itself from the wall.
The Radio Demon appeared beside the bed in a split second. In pajamas, his hair disheveled, as if roused from sleep.
"I'm here," he said immediately, kneeling beside the bed. "Easy. Breathe. Tell me what happened."
Lucifer grabbed his sleeve with a force that would surprise most demons.
"Something's wrong," he gasped. "I can feel it. With the children. They... they..."
Alastor was already acting. He held Lucifer with one hand, reaching for his staff with the other. The radio in her head screeched violently, jumping through frequencies.
"Belfedor," he growled into the airwaves.
A crackling sound came from the speaker, followed by a sleepy, irritated voice.
"Alastor, if this is again..."
"Sharp pain," he interrupted. "I need you now."
There was silence on the other end. Brief. Too significant.
"I'm coming," Belfedor replied, fully conscious. "Don't use stabilizing magic without my signal. And keep him still."
Alastor disconnected the call. He put down the staff, then embraced Lucifer carefully, steadying him as another spasm of pain coursed through his body.
“Breathe with me,” he said softly, low, without a trace of irony. “Can you hear me? Focus on my voice.”
Lucifer buried his face in Alastor’s shoulder, trembling.
“I was afraid… you were gone,” he whispered. “I thought something would happen to them and I would be alone.”
Alastor’s fingers tightened on his back.
“I didn’t go anywhere,” he replied firmly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
The radio in the staff crackled again.
“Belfedor is coming,” he added. “Hold on. Please.”
And Lucifer, the King of Hell, clung to him like a last anchor, while something inside him was clearly beginning to spiral out of control.