The scene is set in what appears to be some kind of sewerage, judging by the dim lights, grimy walls, and tell-tale drips of water. A young man, bound and gagged, is lying down in a conveniently open area in the center, bracketed by converging tunnels from either corner. A symbolism, perhaps, or a dark foretelling of what it is to come for this unfortunate soul.
A metallic clanging resounds, causing the young man to wake up suddenly. Wide-eyed, he struggles from his bonds, rolling around and kicking his bound feet. Just as he manages to remove the gag around his mouth, however, a shadow looms over him, causing him to freeze.
"Look what we have here." The young man looks up. A hulking, leather-clad Deep Dweller looms over him; his finned tail swaying behind him lazily. He bends over to grab him by the chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "A little lamb a long ways away from his flock, it seems. Or, he could be a spy working for the enemy. Either way, he's fucked. Right, boys?"
More figures slink in from the shadows, chuckling evilly to themselves. As they gather around him, he draws back from the hand that grabbed his chin and sits up, snarling. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now let me go before I fuck you up, asshole."
"Ooh, lamb's got fangs. We like that in a little bitch," he jeers, causing the other large, brawny men to laugh and whistle. He leans to display an impressive row of shining, golden teeth. "Well, there's more than one way to get you to talk."
With a snap of his fingers, three men from the group approach him. The burly men wearing tight suits manhandle him in a suggestive position; his perky ass high up in the air. One brute keeps his head planted firmly on the ground with a large, scaly hand, and the young man starts breathing heavily as reality sets in.
"What are you gonna do to me?" he asks breathily, looking up with fear in his mismatched eyes.
"Instead of telling you," the first Deep Dweller said, kneeling down in front of him. The sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down echoes in the cavern of carnality that they are dwelling in. He grabs the young man's face with gentleness that belies the sinister grin on his face. "Why don't I just show you? Slut."
With a snarling grin that is strained at the edges and a gaze that is devoid of all life and vigor, Alastor watches as the main event of the porn show commences on the screen. He had appropriated the awful picture box from downstairs for this exact purpose, but now, as he is watching Angel Dust get rammed with more cocks than Alastor has ever seen in his life, he wonders if there is a way to pour bleach on his brain without possibly killing himself in the process. (Perhaps Niffty knows?)
With a twitching eye, Alastor drums his fingers on the arm of his chair. At some point, Angel Dust had been moved to hang from chains conveniently available at the setting. He scoffs and rests his chin on his hand, wondering how this is considered premium, award-winning content. The waterboarding scene is mildly hilarious, he admits, but everything else makes it so… dreadful. And Alastor may have appreciated it more if the show is black and white, but unfortunately, he is watching his fellow hotel resident get ruthlessly bred in full color.
Why is he doing this again? Ah, yes. Research.
With a sigh, Alastor stands up from the chair and approaches the mirror, watching himself grinning despite wanting to jump off from his tower. Twice. He questions what it is, exactly, that makes Angel Dust so appealing that his pitiful plays of pleasure are often lauded by millions across Pentagram City. He understands that the point of the show is to illicit… certain reactions, but as it is, Alastor's loins are neither burning with base desire nor building up to a climactic eruption.
… That is what happens during arousal towards another person, yes?
With a wave of his hand, a black tendril rises from the shadows to turn the dial on the vintage television, forever silencing Angel Dust's annoying, wanton cries. He will have to find a way to make sure that Angel Dust keeps to his word and does not talk about this to anyone ever, including himself, but given that he is on a path to redemption, Alastor is confident that he will keep his promise. And Alastor did make it into a formal deal, after all.
"Angel Dust, my boy!" Alastor recalls himself calling out to the porn star earlier this morning, just as he was coming out of his room to head to breakfast. Delighting in Angel Dust's shriek of surprise, Alastor approaches him with a broad smile and gesticulating hand. "Perfect timing! I was hoping to catch you before you start another grueling day of contracted sexual debauchery! May I ask for a little favor?"
"What?" Angel Dust's accent is thicker in the morning, it seems. Or he just hasn't processed what Alastor has said. "You wanna ask for a favor? From me?"
"Indeed!"
"From me. Angel Dust. Famous porn star and resident funny guy. Me?"
"Well, in my humble opinion, your overall comedic impact can use some work… but I suppose you are a reputable sex worker in this god-forsaken city. So, yes, you!"
"... And you're not gonna leave me alone until I agree?"
"Most likely!" Alastor affirms, breaking his neck. Eyes crinkling at the way Angel Dust cringes, he straightens his neck and says, "But before we get to the specifics, I would like to make this a little formal with a deal—"
"Oh, no, you don't!" Angel Dust is fully awake now, judging from the wild look in his eyes. He draws back from Alastor's glowing hand, spitting, "I ain't into that deal-making shit, Al. One psychopathic freak owning my soul is enough—"
"What is it with you all and your fixation on me asking for your souls?" Alastor rolls his eyes. He waves his glowing hand dismissively in the air and says, "A simple deal is all I'm asking for, my boy. A vow of cooperation and silence on your end for what I am about to ask of you. As well as your… discretion on the existence of this deal."
"Oh, yeah? Well what's in it for me?" Angel Dust asks, crossing his primary arms over his chest. "What do I get in return for keepin' my mouth shut?"
"A novelty for you, I'm sure," Alastor says with a raised brow. At Angel Dust's growl, Alastor laughs, holding a hand to his chest. "I merely jest, of course! I understand that needs must. But if you accept this little deal of mine, I will endeavor to be… kinder to your friend Husker moving forward. Will that suffice?"
Predictably, Angel Dust's eyes widen at his offer, but they shine with an emotion that Alastor can't place. "Are you for real? You'd do that?"
"I will still own his soul, of course. And he is mine to do as I wish," Alastor says, examining his red-tipped fingers. "But I will no longer be… as unnecessarily cruel to him as before. I reserve the right to be cross when he steps out of line, but I will no longer seek him out specifically to aggravate him like I am wont to do.
"So," Alastor holds out his hand once again. It glows a ghastly green, coloring both of their faces. "Do we have a deal?"
Angel Dust looks between him and his hand. With a raised brow, he asks, "What kind of favor is it, anyway? Don't I at least get a hint, or something?"
Alastor narrows his eyes. "If you must know, it is a favor of the… personal sort. Something that you can easily accomplish, given your particular skill set."
"I ain't sleeping with anyone. Unless it's… you who's askin'?"
"And I will reiterate what I said before: it is never going to happen."
"Eh, worth a shot." Angel grins slyly, shrugging. Then, with a more stern look, he says, "I won't hurt or kill anyone for you. Nor will I betray Charlie and her dream, or help you with whatever schemes you got against the hotel and its guests—past and future."
Alastor raises a brow at him before shrugging. "Fair enough. Anything else?"
"... No," Angel Dust says. After a few beats, he nods and clasps Alastor's hand with his. "Ya got a deal, bub. For Husk."
"Excellent!" Alastor says after the binding magic between them dissipates. He allows Angel Dust to shake off the effects of their deal before passing him by, speaking, "Now, for the favor! I wish to borrow copies of your best-selling pornography shows. The more… stimulating and critically-acclaimed, the better."
Angel Dust blinks. Then, with a thicker accent than earlier, cries out, "What the fuck, bub? That's what you want? To watch me get fucked on screen?"
Alastor scoffs. "Don't flatter yourself; this is not about you specifically. I am simply trying to determine something, and your shows are easily accessible. That is all."
"Not me specifically? So it is about someone, then," Angel Dust says. At Alastor's flinch, his expression slowly becomes cheekier. Looking Alastor up and down, he says, "Ya know, I always wondered what your deal was. You didn't seem the type to be into this shit."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Alastor says, his voice becoming more garbled as static builds up around him. "And silence is your end of the deal, isn't it?"
"You never said I can't talk about it with you, though, deal-maker," Angel Dust says, grinning at the wide-eyed look Alastor gives him. Leaning against the wall with his elbow, he asks, "So. Is it someone I know? A certain… kingly someone, maybe?"
"I refuse to dignify that with an answer." Alastor grits his teeth, widening his smile just so. Then, tapping his foot, Alastor says, "So? I haven't all day, chum. Hand it over. Or else."
"Sure thing," Angel Dust says slowly, walking back to his room without taking his eyes off Alastor. He slowly slinks back into his room, his eyes glued on Alastor all the while. Then, with a shit-eating grin, says, "Lover boy."
And Alastor narrows his eyes, summoning shadowy tendrils behind him as a warning. He ignores Angel Dust's unhinged cackling as he vanishes into his room, and Alastor growls and grumbles under his breath. Angel Dust's teasing is something he should have expected, but he supposes it doesn't matter. What matters is that he can finally start figuring out what had happened that day with Lucifer.
Because in all of his 122 years of existence (both on Earth and in Hell), not once has Alastor had that kind of reaction to another person before. Any sexual activities he had participated in were with himself, and all had been done as a means to an end. A self-serving sensation. A ritual of release. Alastor isn't a stranger to arousal, but he has never in his life felt it due to someone else or their actions.
And yet all Lucifer needs to do is simply exist for him to feel that fire burning in his core. It doesn't make sense.
Is it because Lucifer is temptation itself? He is the catalyst to humankind's descent to evil. The first humans had no use for knowledge, after all; why would they be tempted to obtain it? But Alastor wonders now if it is not so much the allure of knowledge that attracted Eve, but the giver of the fruit that persuaded her to turn her back on her creator's orders. Alastor imagines himself being in her place, watching from the ground as a serpent transforms into a tantalizing tempter, offering him the world in the form of a red apple. A rosy-cheeked and sultry-eyed god.
Alastor finds his knees buckling before he knows it, and he grabs onto the nearest wall to brace himself. He covers half his face, feeling it warm under his touch. Then, with trepidation, his eyes look down on himself and finds it.
An erection. A fucking erection. All because of the devil himself.
Damn it all!
Snarling, Alastor paces the length of his room; his grinning shadow staring at him from the wall nearest to his bed. It waits for a few beats before it begins to manipulate another shadow next to it. Alastor watches as his shadow makes a show of forming a Lucifer-shaped shadow next to it and, to his horror, takes shadow-Lucifer by the waist and dips it.
"Fuck off!" Alastor growls at it; his face burning with rage and… something else. And that is the most aggravating thing about this entire ordeal.
Because if this had been… simple lust, Alastor would tolerate it. In fact, he might even indulge it. Because as much as his lack of sexual desire keeps his mind focused and sharp, unhindered by unnecessary attachments, he understands that sexual pleasure can be therapeutic and even grounding. Alastor does touch himself, after all.
But like he has said: that had all been a means to an end. An itch to scratch, a chore to tick off his list. Alastor thinks he shouldn't need a profound reason to fucking masturbate. It feels good, so he does it. Fuck anyone (figuratively) who tries to tell him how to interact with his own body.
However, there are times when he wonders, privately, what it would be like to seek a specific person out with whom to share that pleasure. And not just for sexual gratification, as Alastor can accomplish all of that alone. But to just... be with a person for that purpose. To share a moment of orgasmic bliss together. Like… how normal people do, he supposes.
Alastor's grin almost falters as he thinks back to his time on Earth. In times of sentimental whimsy, Alastor would find himself coming across happy couples walking down the street—and he would just stare. And then he thinks: is he broken for not seeking that out for himself? Or is this simply the way he is? Or has he yet to meet that special someone who not only adds value to his life, but would make him grateful to be living it?
… Mother has always been such a romantic. He wants to blame her for instilling these insipid ideas in his head, but he can't bring himself to resent one of the only people he has truly ever cared for.
He jolts, standing upright. One of …?
Alastor shakes, clenching his fists as he tries desperately to reel in the need to destroy his room. Again. No, that cannot be. There is no way. But what if…?
… It looks like a visit to Cannibal Town is in order.
But just as he makes the decision to visit Rosie, he hears a knock on the door. "Come in!"
"Alastor!" Niffty zips inside his room after she opens the door. She stands before him, vibrating with excitement. Literally. "You'll never guess who showed up!"
Alastor's heart skips a beat. Dare he think? "Who?"
"It's the Sins of Greed and Gluttony!" she shrieks, clapping her tiny hands rapidly. "They came here to visit Charlie, apparently! Oooh, that greedy guy screams bad boy. I bet he's exploited the labor of billions! We're gonna be so rich!"
With a low cackle, she rubs her hands together and exits his room, leaving Alastor to his lonesome. After a few beats, he leans against the wall, blinking up at the ceiling.
The Sins? They are here at the hotel? Why? Surely they haven't decided to become better family figures to Charlie when they have been absent for all of her life thus far? What are they planning?
… Are they here because of Lucifer?
Alastor pushes back against the wall and starts pacing; his mind racing at break-neck speed. Have they heard about their altercation, then? Surely Lucifer must have confided in them, given that he has recently rekindled their filial relations. Is vengeance what they are after, is that it? He grabs his chest—a habit now, even after the holy wound has long since healed.
After overcoming his humiliating defeat by Adam, is he now destined to be humbled for good by the Sins themselves?
… Or can Alastor use this to his advantage?
He stands upright, the static that was building around him dissipating. A light ignites in his eyes as he thinks about the opportunity that this spontaneous visit of theirs has presented.
Alastor has been waiting for a long time, after all.
He folds his arms behind his back as his shadows consume him, delivering him to the mezzanine balcony where he observes, silently and out of sight, the scene taking place before him.
True to Niffty's word, the Sins of Greed and Gluttony are here, huddled around Charlie like doting relatives. Alastor narrows his eyes briefly at the rotund, green-clad monstrosity clapping all his hands as the winged, fox-like creature spins Charlie around, screaming like a ditzy, teenage girl.
So these are the powerful Sins? How… disappointing. He hopes the others will at least be more dignified. Otherwise, Alastor should start accepting that his assumptions of Hell's political landscape will always be proven wrong in the end. Just like with him.
Alastor leans over the balustrade, glancing in the direction of the clown. Rolling his eyes, he sets his gaze on the fox who, if memory serves well, is the keeper of the Hellhounds. An idea occurs to him, and half-formed symbols form around his growing antlers without him meaning to.
Can it be? Is she…?
'Well,' he thinks to himself, glaring down at the one and only Queen Beelzebub. 'Only one way to find out.'
Despite being the princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar has never actually met most of her kingdom's nobility and peerage. She recalls, at the top of her head, visiting the Goetia Palace with her mother after the birth of Lord Paimon's youngest son, prince Stolas, but that was over two decades ago, and it hadn't been the most… fun experience. Lord Paimon and her mother don't really get along, and Charlie suspects it's all due to the Goetia's attempts in trying to oust her family behind the scenes. And prince Stolas… well, she's sure he looks a lot better now, but he had been one very ugly baby. Toddler Charlie just couldn't handle his featherless form and large, beady eyes.
But she does know a few overlords! One of which is… the Radio Demon, Alastor, of course. And his friend Rosie. And… well, Charlie knows of Carmilla Carmine and Zestial, as well as Zeezi and the rest of the von Eldritch clan. And she guesses Valentino counts… though honestly, Charlie wishes to erase that meeting entirely from her mind somehow. If only there's a drug that can make you unsee things instantly.
… Oh, who is she kidding? She barely knows anyone important. She barely even knows her dad, who is the King of Hell, and isn't that just a little pathetic? And she has six aunts and uncles who just so happen to be the Sins that she has never met even once before. Not even virtually. Apparently they had all been too busy managing their respective Rings to visit the palace during any of her birthdays. At least that's what her mother always said.
In any case, it doesn't really matter, she thinks. Charlie had eventually learned not to make a big deal out of things like that. Her mother said that Charlie will come into her throne in time, and that all she needs to do for now is watch and learn. Love her kingdom. Make her proud.
But then her mother left, saying that she needs to go and fix her dad's lapse in judgment. Charlie recalls the day her father had signed the treaty, and it had been the very first time she saw them fight. It was horrible. Brutal. Words were exchanged, and the next thing Charlie knew, she was looking over her shoulder at the palace as her mother took Charlie with her.
"Sinners shouldn't have to take the fall for Heaven's bigotry and ruthlessness," her mother said after they settled in their new home. "This is why your father shouldn't manage state affairs, my love. It's clear that, despite being forced to Fall and becoming the King of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar still yearns for Heaven's forgiveness. Tragic, isn't it?" And Charlie just listened as she sat across her mother, eating her salad and wishing it was pancakes instead.
But is it so wrong to want forgiveness? True, Heaven did not end up being the perfect paradise Charlie had initially envisioned it to be (even with actual koalas around), but it could still be a home for remorseful sinners who want to change. And if she can prove that sinners can change, then she can prove that there's a place for them in Heaven. And if Heaven and Hell can reach an accord, all this war and bloodshed may finally come to an end.
And if that happens, maybe her dad can finally go back home where he belongs. Where he can be happy. Because she has known for a long time that he is anything but.
And that's what this hotel is for: to show her love for her kingdom. To make her mother proud. To make her father finally happy.
(Because if sinners can be redeemed… who says her father can't be, too?)
It's easier said than done, of course. When she announced her intention to open the hotel during that interview with Katie Killjoy, everyone scoffed and laughed at her, calling her crazy, delusional, stupid. Hell is the end of the road for sinners, and that has been an established fact since the dawn of creation.
But like Vaggie said to her once: it doesn't have to be.
So she forged on. No matter how difficult it got, or how stumped she became, Charlie at her very core believed that her dream can still come true. That even if there is only one soul in Hell who deserves redemption, then Charlie will search every nook and cranny to find them. And even if there isn't… then she will simply wait for one to arrive.
In the meantime, Charlie will spend every waking moment of her life being thankful for the good (and bad) things in her life. She will also work hard to make it up to the people who risked (and gave up) their lives for this silly dream of hers. And she will live to give back to the friends who have stayed with her till now, because if not for them, she would have given up a long time ago. Truly, one can achieve so many things with a little help, and she is oh so grateful for it.
Charlie just didn't expect help to come in the form of her Fallen relatives. At least, not so soon.
"Uncle Mammon? Auntie Bee?" she croaks out, staring at their larger than life forms looming over her, even from beyond the door. Their presence is so massive (literally and figuratively) that she has to open both doors to gawk up at them.
"SURPRIIIIISE!!" they yell in unison, holding up their interlocked hands. Mammon's second left hand reaches inside his pocket to pull out a confetti popper that shoots out gold and green streamers. They feel rather cheap on Charlie's skin. "HELLO, CHARLIE!"
"Is that…?" She squints up at their glowing auras, blinking. She uses her hand as a visor to cover her eyes and says, "Is that really you?"
"In the flesh, love!" Mammon affirms, leaning close so suddenly that the bells on his jester hat jingle. He offers a hand for Charlie to take, which she does without thinking about it. But then she immediately regrets it when he starts shaking her hand so hard her feet are off the floor. "It's lovely to finally meet you, our little niece!"
Charlie's world continues to spin even as Mammon lets her go to summon his guitar staff to twirl around. Despite this, she still smiles up at her uncle Mammon… or is that a potted plant? "N-Nice to meet you too, uncle Mammon—"
"Chaaaaarlie!" Charlie cries out when she herself starts spinning like a top when Beelzebub flies past her and into the hotel. As if on cue, loud house music starts pumping in the background, and a comically large disco ball appears from the ceiling out of nowhere, coating the parlor and bar in bright and decadent gold light. As everyone but Mammon shouts and turns away from the harsh light, Beelzebub perches on top of the disco ball, declaring in sing-song, "Feast your eyes on your favorite aunt: Gluttony's Baddest Bitch, Queen Bee herself! Giving you what you want and need till you burst… with happiness! Oh, hold the applause, please, you're far too kind."
Mammon claps along with a newly-arrived Niffty as Beelzebub bows to the wide-eyed crowd of three below her. After Beelzebub makes a few twists and turns on the pole, she somersaults back on the ground, vanishing the disco ball and harsh lights (hurray!). Mammon waddles up to her in a symphony of jingling bells and applause.
"Bloody fantastic as always! Bee, love, you really should consider performing at Looloo Land!" he says, sweeping a fist in the air as his large grin takes a maniacal and, Charlie assumes, greedy edge. "You'll be a huge hit! Just imagine: exclusive distribution of Beelzejuice and a fantastic show by the Queen of Gluttony herself every thirty minutes! I'll even pay you minimum wage! Whaddya say?"
"Not even for a lifetime supply of cotton candy, babe. Which I can provide myself, by the way," Beelzebub says sweetly, pinching Mammon's cheek. As Mammon grumbles to himself, Beelzebub stands in front of Charlie and her friends. Or "looms over" is probably the more appropriate term, Charlie thinks (and she thought her mom was tall!). She places her secondary hands on her hips and waves energetically with her primary ones. "But anyway, hiya, girlie! Like Mammon said, it's soooo nice to finally meet you! We've all been dying to finally get to know you, you know!"
Charlie blinks out of shocked stupor to raise an eyebrow up at her. "You have?"
"Uh, yeah, duh?" Beelzebub says with a raised brow, holding her hands up. She exchanges a look with Mammon who mimics her pose and expression. "Like, we're family! You got angel blood running through your royal veins, babe! We stick together like… honey! We could have visited, you know, but your bitch mom wouldn't let us. And I mean bitch in the worst way possible. Not the fun kind." Beelzebub snarls, cocking her hip and swiping her hand to the side.
Charlie's world stops spinning at that moment. "What—"
"Anyway, enough of that boring stuff," Beelzebub says, waving a hand in the air. Then she makes grabby hands as she trots up to Charlie. "Come here and let me get a good look at you, sweetie!"
Before Charlie can ask her what she means by that, she yelps as she is suddenly pulled into a hug, and her feet hang in the air as Beelzebub spins and twirls her in her tight embrace. Charlie tries to tell her to loosen her grip by patting her on the arm, but Beelzebub is too busy squealing to notice the light fading in her eyes.
"Vaggieeee." Charlie reaches out from the gap of Beelzebub's arms, staring wildly at a wide-eyed Vaggie. She can feel her bones breaking, and her vision blurs and slowly becomes dark. "Help."
"Oh, my fucking dad! You look exactly like Lucy!" Beelzebub squeals, jumping up and down one foot after the other. Her eyes and flowing hair sparkle as she holds up a wheezing Charlie for Mammon to smile down at sweetly. "Look, Mams! Gold hair, rosy cheeks, dawnstar eyes! Isn't she a beauty? I mean, we already know what you look like from the news and photos but aaaaaaaaaaah! You're like a carbon copy of him!"
"Thank you," Charlie says with a strained smile, looking between her aunt and uncle. "I do get that a lot. Mom used to say we could be twins with how alike we are. In more ways than just physical."
"Well that's fucking obvious without that cunt saying it, since Lucy did give—gah, oi!" Mammon ducks as Beelzebub smoothly kicks him in the shin, sending him a blazing glare over Charlie's head. Mammon blinks and then starts laughing nervously, holding his hands up in the air as he backtracks. "Err, I mean, Lucy did give… his sperm! Because that's what fathers do! They provide their seed for it to be sown into the fertile womb of their partner, the mother! That's what happened, hah, hah! Paternity test? We don't need that shite, do we, love?
"Anyway, you little rascal," Mammon says, pinching her cheeks. "You got your daddy's good looks, all right! You must have a queue of suitors lining up to get a chance to even look at you, yeah? And let's not forget, a chance to get their grubby hands on the family fortune!"
"Which is sooo not gonna happen," Beelzebub says, sharing a grin with Mammon. She looks down at Charlie and says, "You tell us when you've got your eye on someone, yeah? We'll get you a prenup that's so iron-clad they'll have no choice but to stay with you forever!"
"Actually," Charlie says, holding his wrists to gently pry Mammon's hands off of her. She turns to Vaggie who, upon meeting her gaze, shares a sweet smile with her. "I already have a girlfriend. Her name is Vaggie. Vaggie, say hi!"
"WHAT?" Beelzebub and Mammon gasp with their primary hands squishing their faces. Immediately, they turn their attention on Vaggie who, upon meeting their gaze, grins nervously.
"Um," Vaggie begins, looking between Husk and Niffty for support. The two of them side-step away from her, leaving Vaggie a sitting duck for two approaching and looming Sins. She swallows and bows a little, saying, "It's nice to meet you, your… highnesses? Your graces? Dammit, I don't know what titles to use—"
"Formally, it's Your Infernal Highness, babe. But you can call us whatever!" Beelzebub says, bending down. She also puts Charlie down (finally!), allowing the two of them to stand next to each other. Beelzebub steps back, tapping a finger on her chin as she and Mammon observe the two.
Vaggie turns to Charlie, looking a little out of place. Then, with a soft smile, Charlie holds out her hand for Vaggie to take. They both share a loving gaze briefly before looking up at the Sins, standing more confidently in their presence.
"Oh. My. Dad." Beelzebub squishes her cheeks again, blinking rapidly. She turns to Mammon and points at them. "Did you see that, Mams? How fucking sweet was that? Sweeter than… candy, that's for sure!"
"Yep. Now that's something money can't mostly buy. Priceless. Bloody priceless, love is," Mammon says, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Then, with a scowl, he says, "Don't ever tell anyone I said that. I got a reputation to uphold, you get me?"
"Like being a selfish, greedy clown?" Beelzebub jeers, smirking.
"Oi! I literally got swindled in Heaven!" Mammon says, shaking his fists at her. "I did everything up there! You'd think that Dad would just make more angels to make up for the labor shortage but no, I was doing most of the administrative tasks! And I did that shite for free. I know Heaven doesn't have banks but fucking Hell, you'd think I should have some form of compensation. What a fucking rip-off!"
"Uh," Vaggie begins, holding up her hand. When she has Mammon's attention, she says, "Actually, there are banks in Heaven now. As well as a wage scheme. Everyone gets paid the same wage no matter what you do, so it's all fair as long as you contribute to society equally."
Mammon blinks. Then, slowly, his eyes start to glow an otherworldly green. "Are you havin' a fucking laugh right now? Everyone up there gets paid now? After I did everything for free? Those little cunts! Of all the fucking—"
"Okaaaay." Beelzebub laughs, glancing in a raging Mammon's direction. She turns to the side where she sees Husk and Niffty at the bar, and they flinch a little at her attention. Clasping her hands together, Beelzebub turns back to Charlie and Vaggie and says, "Well, why don't you introduce us to the rest of your little friends? I'm sure Mams can use a little… distraction. He gets pissy when he remembers Heaven, you see," Beelzebub says in a whisper, bending down and cupping a hand around her mouth.
"Oh, uh, sure! I'll introduce you to our staff," Charlie says, looking between Beelzebub and Mammon. With Vaggie in tow, she walks up to the bar, trying her best to tune out the enraged, honking expletives coming out of an angry Sin of Greed's mouth.
"All right, so!" Husk and Niffty straighten in their seats as Charlie turns around to introduce them, but she falters slightly upon seeing a bouncy Beelzebub dragging a flailing Mammon by the collar. "Um. Yeah! So this here's Husker. He's the bartender. He's um… an avid fan of recreational drinking! And your Beelzejuice, of course."
"That so?" Beelzebub says, cocking her hip to the side and grinning slyly down at Husk. Leaning over the bar, she reaches over to adjust his bowtie, as it is slightly askew. Her grin widens upon seeing a wide-eyed Husk swallow. "You like my juice, pussycat?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am." Husk nods, blinking.
"Aww, what a sweet thing!" Beelzebub coos down at him. Standing up, she holds up two of her hands. "You know what? I was gonna save this for when everyone visits, but I'm too excited! Here ya go, bitch!"
Beelzebub snaps her fingers, and suddenly, the ground shakes briefly before a mass of energy builds up over the top of the bar. Husk, as well as the rest of the hotel's residents, watch in fascination as the energy solidifies into shape. Then, after a flash of sparkles and a bang, a beehive-shaped Beelzejuice dispenser floats above Husk's bar.
"We saw on the news that you guys just finished renovating the hotel a few months ago. After talking about it, we all decided we wanted to give you something special to celebrate," Beelzebub says, turning to Charlie. With a grin, she says, "I know it's a little late, but here's my housewarming present. Or is it a hotel-warming present? Whatever! It's a near-limitless supply of Beelzejuice! Connected directly to my supply back home. I say near limitless because it stops dispensing alcohol when it senses no one's having fun anymore. Which is so not the point of getting fucked!
"Anyways! Congrats on being the first official importer of Beelzejuice outside of Gluttony. Yay!" Beelzebub throws her hands up in the air in glee; her wings buzzing and flickering energetically behind her.
"Oh, my goodness, Auntie Bee!" Charlie gushes at the bright, shiny new object in her hotel. "That is so nice of you, thank you! We're more than grateful for—"
"WHAT?" Mammon sits up and stops his flailing; turning his head 180 degrees to glare at Beelzebub. He stands up to stomp towards her, resuming his multi-armed flailing. "Bee, you cunt! You said I was going to have exclusive distribution rights! What's all this, then?"
"And you still are, sweetie! It's not like they're gonna sell the stuff. It's for the hotel's guests!" Beelzebub says, turning to Charlie. "Isn't that right?"
"Oh, yeah!" Charlie says, perking up. She glances in Husk's direction, smiling when she sees him gazing up at the Beelzejuice dispenser in child-like wonder. Niffty, on the other hand, starts obsessively cleaning the sparkly glitter that had erupted from Beelzebub's magic. "This isn't like a hotel where people pay to stay or anything—"
"What! That's wasted potential for profit, love! You should reconsider!"
"—so everything from food to drinks and even lodging is completely free," Charlie finishes. Then, she turns to the bar. "Of course, we do pay our staff. It's the least we can do since they're pretty much doing everything for now—"
"Clean, clean," Niffty mutters to herself sinisterly; her eyes forming veins around the edges. She lifts her head and gasps, pointing at the door. "The streamers! How could I have missed it? Must clean—"
"Oh, and this is Niffty!" Charlie picks her up before she can zip towards the doors. She holds up a hyperventilating Niffty up to them, grimacing briefly when she notices the tiny maid frothing at the mouth. "And she's umm… our head housekeeper! She keeps everything clean. Mostly. And she's also in charge of pest control! No bugs in sight here."
"A maid, eh?" Mammon says, looking down and seeing a fleeing cockroach pass him by. As she vibrates at him, muttering, "greedy bad boy," under her breath, he pauses for a few beats before clapping his hands and laughing. "Well, I got just the present for an exploited—err, well-paid individual like yourself!"
Mimicking Beelzebub, he snaps his fingers, but instead of an earthquake and bright light, Mammon's magic manifests in a burst of cheap streamers and loud honking. After twirling the tiny, shiny object in his hand, he offers it to Niffty who accepts it with a curious look in her eye.
"Like I always say, why need to pay for multiple staff when you can just underpay one unfortunate fuck?" Mammon holds his hands up, chortling. "That groovy gizmo you got there can summon any tool you want! For gardening, cleaning, sweeping, fuck, even for stabbing stupid insects, if that's your thing! I made it back in Heaven when I did fucking everything… but now that I underpay people to do shit for me, you can have it! For free, even."
"Oh, uncle Mammon," Charlie says as she sets down Niffty who is staring at the small tool with a shiny, sparkly eye. "That's so generous of you—"
"Hey," Mammon covers Charlie's mouth, glaring. "Again, don't ever mention this to anyone. I can't have people hearing about this and thinking they can ask for free shit! Never again, you fucking hear me?"
"Um, all right!" Charlie says when Mammon backs up. She watches as Niffty zips across the room, using her new toy to clean up the streamers on the floor while muttering excitedly to herself. Then she zips past and summons a feather duster… and a rake. And is that a leaf blower? "But still, thank you. You really didn't have to give us anything, but it means a lot that you've taken the time to give us these gifts. And being here at all."
"Aww, don't mention it, sweetie!" Beelzebub says, waving a hand in the air. As Mammon stands next to her, they both smile down at her dotingly. "We're the ones who should be grateful! I mean, it must be really awkward to see us here after everything. We really do regret not being able to visit before. Sorry about that, Charlie."
"Yeah, fucking awkward. So just take this as us bribing our way into your good graces after being absent aunts and uncles for so long—" Mammon swiftly evades the high-kick Beelzebub aims at his head. "—and know that if you ever need anything, you can give us a call. Rates still apply, though, 'cause I got gigs and stuff. Oh! You want tickets to Looloo Land, which is now spelled with o's to avoid lawsuits? I can offer you a Buy 100, Get One at Two Percent Off the Sales Tax bundle deal—"
"Actually," Charlie begins, furrowing her brows. She looks between them and says, "Why are you here? I mean, not that I don't want you here, but what brings you here to the hotel today of all days?"
Mammon and Beelzebub blink down at her. After sharing silent, but loaded looks, they turn back to Charlie with forced smiles on their faces. "U-Um, funny story, love! You know how spontaneous these things get, right? Well, we got to talking, and you just so happen to have come up in the conversation—"
"But why, though?" Charlie asks, crossing her arms over her chest. After staring up at them for a few beats, Charlie frowns. "Is this about my dad, by any chance?"
Mammon and Beelzebub exchange looks. Slowly, their smiles fade, and they both sigh. Beelzebub approaches Charlie, hands held up placatingly, as Mammon shakes his head with a frown. "Look, babe, we're not just here because of your dad. We really have been wanting to meet you for so long—"
"And I get that. I… I think I believe you," Charlie gently interjects, holding up her hand. She frowns at the floor for a few beats before gazing up at Beelzebub, looking more determined. "But you see, my dad and I had… well, not a fight, per se, but something awful happened and now he's not speaking to me. He won't even let me through the wards! And if you're here, that means you must also be worried about him too, right? You've been hanging out again lately, so you must know something is up. We can go together and ask him how he is!"
"He blocked you from Lilith's wards?" Mammon asks, raising a brow. At Charlie's nod, he frowns and turns to Beelzebub. "Huh, so that's how you and Belphy were able to portal in the palace. The little wanker must have messed up the arrays when he blocked her."
"Lucy did say he must have done something. But he was kinda out of it, so I didn't take him too seriously." Beelzebub rubs her chin in thought. "I wonder what he did, though. Satan's been trying to decode her arrays for years, and he's the magic nerd among all of us. It'll piss him off big time when he finds out that Lucifer had been the key to undoing those wards all along."
"Fucker's always pissed. This won't mean anything, even if he's still refusing to see Lucifer," Mammon gripes, scowling. "Hothead got his research on the transformative effects of holy energy stolen 'cause he was too pussy to stand up for himself and claim it, but now he can't even forgive family? What a little bitch."
"That's rich, coming from you."
"Yes, I am rich. Hang on, are you calling me a hypocrite?"
"Wait a minute," Charlie stands between them, eyes going wild. "You… Have you two seen him? How is he? Is he doing okay? Husk says that he might be sick—"
"I said he was not sick!"
"—and I feel awful for causing him more stress when he's going through so much!" Charlie turns around to look between her aunt and uncle who, much to her dismay, are keeping their mouths shut. "Can you help me reach him? At least just to talk! I just wanna know that he's doing all right, and that I'm so, so sorry—"
"Hey, kiddo, relax," Mammon says, holding her by the shoulders. He reaches up to wipe a tear from her eyes. "Your da's doing just fine. He's just… tired. Your Aunt Belphegor's watching over him, and I'm pretty sure Ozzie and Lev are coming to visit, too. We'll tell him to call you when he wakes up. Yeah?"
"When he wakes up?" Charlie asks quietly, staring at the ground. After a few beats, her eyes invert colors, and tears start streaming down her face as she backs away from them. "Are you saying you don't know when he'll come to? Oh my God, I did this, didn't I? I was the one who made him worse!"
"Charlie," Vaggie says softly, holding her by the arm. She rubs Charlie's back soothingly and pulls her in a hug. "Mi cielo, please, keep a cool head and breathe—"
"How can I, Vaggie? It's bad enough that I scared him away. Now I found out I made him feel worse!" Charlie sobs, holding her face in her hands. "I did this. This is all my fault. I'm such a horrible daughter."
Bee watches as Charlie sobs into her girlfriend's arms, frowning. She turns to Mammon who had a sad, defeated look on his face. Ever since the Fall, her friend had started relishing in the suffering of others, but the same feeling doesn't really apply to family. And Charlie is extra special to them because she's their first little niece, and she's Lucifer's blood and heir.
They want to help her, assuage her fears, but they aren't sure just how much Lucifer is willing to let her know just yet. This isn't their secret to tell.
Turning away from the pair, Bee faces the bartender cat—Husker, if she recalls correctly. He stands up straight at her attention, and Bee considers him with a narrow-eyed stare.
"Hey, pussycat," she says, walking up to the bar. Setting her hand down on the counter to loom over him, she asks, "You wouldn't happen to know what went down here before Lucifer left, do you?"
"Uh," Husker begins, shifting his eyes to the side. Bee notices his stare linger on a wall, and she turns just to see a shadow cast by a large bookcase. She frowns at it. "I don't… I'm just the bartender, ma'am. I'm not usually privy to the personal affairs of the princess and the king."
"Usually," Bee echoes, smiling when Husker swallows. Then, a thought occurs to her, making her smirk. She taps her nose, one, two, and her smirk turns into a full-fledged grin at seeing his wide-eyed look. "So you do know. Don't you?"
"What do we have here?"
Bee's ears twitch at the sound of the voice, and at first she and Mammon look up to search for speakers, as it sounds muffled and full of static. Then, they feel dark energy pooling at the foot of the stairs. They watch as the shadows coalesce and form the figure of a man with an eerie, sharp grin on his face.
Mammon blinks as Bee sniffs. Her eyes widen, and she grabs onto Mammon's sleeve as a red-clad, well-dressed man appears before them.
"Alastor?" Charlie says quietly, rubbing the tears from her eyes. After a few beats, she asks, "I thought you said you were busy today?"
Bee and Mammon stiffen. Alastor?
"Well, I was going to visit a friend," Alastor examines his fingernails with an air of boredom and indolence that immediately makes Bee's hackles rise. The static forming around him doesn't help, and it makes Bee's large ears and feelers twitch every so often. "But imagine my surprise when I come across this little display in our very own lobby! My, my, how can I take a well-deserved break, now? It's not every day we get such important guests. Though I suppose it is expected, as the hotel itself is founded by the princess of Hell, herself."
"Sorry for the trouble, Alastor," Charlie says, smiling a bit. She raises a hand towards her relatives. "May I introduce to you the Sins of Greed and Gluttony: their Infernal Highnesses, Mammon and Beelzebub. They came to visit to send us some welcoming gifts."
"Pleasure," Mammon says, nodding.
"Hi," Bee greets, narrowing her eyes.
"Auntie Bee, Uncle Mammon, this is Alastor, the Radio Demon," Charlie introduces Alastor next, smiling when he appears right beside her. "He's an overlord who's also the hotel's facility manager. He's been such a great help to us. He even helped defend the hotel during Adam's attack! The hotel wouldn't be the way it is without him."
"Oh, you flatter me, my dear." Alastor's quip is followed by a laugh track that seemingly comes out of nowhere. "Though, I must admit, I might have bitten off more than I can chew with that unevolved cretin Adam. You surely must have seen the news. Truly, heavenly beings are on a different level than us demons, it seems.
"But what of the Fallen, I wonder?" Alastor eyes them both, grinning so insufferably that Bee can't help but tense. She feels Mammon holding her arm back, though she can see him observing this Radio Demon as well. "You must all be on a different level than the rest of us, being former heavenly beings, yourselves. Or has your time in Hell made you… sloppy? It has been ten thousand years. Empires rise and fall, after all."
There is something off about this man, but Bee can't quite place it. There's something about his scent that's setting off warning bells in her head, but she can't figure it out for the life of her.
But one thing's for sure: whatever happened to Lucifer that caused him to isolate himself again, this fucker had been responsible. Bee just knows it. She opens her mouth to say something, but the jingling of Mammon's bells and his sudden cry disrupt her thoughts—as well as catch everyone around them off-guard, including Alastor.
"Bloody hell! I was wondering why your name was so familiar!" Mammon announces, holding up a finger in triumph. He elbows Bee in the side and holds up his hands towards Alastor, grinning maniacally, "Bee, love! This wanker's that Alastor the Arsebandit Lulu was telling us about! Nice to finally meet you, you fuckwit! We've heard so much about you!"
Despite herself, Bee can't help but smile and shake her head, even as the air around the so-called Radio Demon turns dark and dangerous. Oh, Mammon. Trust him to show posturing sinners their rightful place.
And if Bee has anything to say about it, this Alastor's rightful place will be under her heel, right next to Lilith.
Notes:Lmao I wanted to inject a little levity into this fic because it has been a little heavy the last two chapters, so here you go! I hope you enjoyed it xD that scene with Angel Dust and Alastor still makes me cackle so hard HAHAHAHA guy is so desperate for answers that he's willing to watch porn l;asd;laskd and aww, Angel wanting to help Husk out ; u ; I am so soft for them aaaaa
On a serious note though, this fic will explore Alastor's sexuality, as I feel that even Alastor isn't truly aware of what he wants. I still don't know if there will be actual sexual content between him and Lucifer, but I guess will have to wait and see if a moment like that comes up between them. To reiterate also: I am basing Alastor's asexuality on my own, so feel free to disagree on how I handle it! Just be respectful about it, I guess? XD
A little look into Charlie's position in Hell's political landscape! I did mention that I wanted this to involve some Hell politics as well, so here's a short intro to it! We'll see more of it in the coming chapters, but I promise it won't be boring xD Or I'll try not to make it boring. I personally find politics in a fandom's world truly fascinating, and I hope you'll at least give it a shot or this fic if that's not usually your cup of tea xD Also, speaking of Charlie, please tell me if I used Vaggie's term of endearment correctly!
And yaaaay, Bee finally meets Alastor! Place your bests because someone's gonna get fucked up (hint: it's not Bee). And good ol' Mammon making things worse xD I know he's awful in Helluva Boss, but I wanna make him a little likable here. This isset before then, so he and Ozzie are still friendly here. I hope that doesn't bother you too much.
Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to read, save, and leave kudos and comments! I made this extra long to make up for my absence last week. I won't update until next weekend either, 'cause I have more work deadlines to meet before the end of the month. We'll see Levi and Ozzie with Lucifer next time, and they will probably figure out what truly led to Lucifer's pregnancy.
Thank you again for being here! <3 See you all next time and I hope you have a wonderful week ahead!