Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Six months.

Alastor had been free from his deal with Rosie for six months.

He thought that once he was free and out of that damned deal, he’d be happier. There are no strings on him to force him to be someone’s puppet. No one can tell him what to do or what to say, or how to act. He could kill and terrorize as much as he wanted now. Sinners respected him again, running whenever they see him to cower in fear.

Alastor the ruthless radio demon.

The most powerful sinner in Hell.

Just like he wanted.

So why does it feel like something was missing?

It’s driving him mad thinking about it.

“If it isn’t the bellhop.” Lucifer said as he popped into the lobby where Alastor was greeting new sinners for redemption. “Hardly working as usual, I see.”

“You’re still here?” Alastor asks, his eyes narrowed and smile wide. He hates him. Oh, how he hates him. A useless idiot with limited power. To think that he had tried to impress this so-called king when they first met makes him want to laugh. He respects power. Not this tiny man and his silly, garish hat. “Why not go back home? It’s not like you contribute anything at the hotel.”

“And you do?” He quirks a brow. “All you do is stand around with that creepy smile. You’re scaring everyone off.”

“That’s rich coming from you. Half the sinners in hell won’t step foot in this hotel because they know you’re disgusted by them.” Alastor laughs, brushing him off. “See, I may be scary, but who wants to be around someone who-“

The hotel shook, rubble and dust falling around them. The air shifted, heat filling the room as a magic circle formed on the ceiling. Blood trickled from its edges, dripping onto the newly cleaned floors Nifty had spent hours working on. The circle grew larger, more and more blood pouring onto the ground. Then all of hell went silent as a violent vibration sent everyone and everything tumbling to the ground.

The magic circle opened up with an ear piercing crack and formed a red, misty portal. Everyone stared in fear and awe at the sight of a girl slowly seeping through until she crashed onto the floor with a thud. On the other side of the portal, Alastor could hear yelling, men barking orders that didn’t make sense to him.

“Don’t let her go!”

“Get in there before the damn thing closes!”

“Weapons! Have them ready!”

“Who the fuck let her out?!”

A hand- no, not just any hand- a HUMAN hand reached through the circle.

For the first time in over a century, Alastor had no idea what to do. He watched, frozen with intrigue, as a living, breathing man tried to crawl his way into hell. And for a girl at that. Alastor glanced her way, his brows furrowed and smiled strained as she weakly sat up. He saw her say something, her eyes a void of red as the circle closed. It cut the man in two, spraying his innards and blood on the nearby guests.

The girl visibly relaxed, her shoulders sagging. A tattered, bloodied hospital gown adorned her body, ripped and nearly shredded to ribbons. Iron chains encircled her ankles and wrists, with hints of bruising and dried blood beneath them. At first, she appeared to be human. That was until everything about her morphed into something more expected out of hell.

She fell back with a huff, her eyes fluttering closed before her face contorted in pain. Her head turned weakly towards the corpse next to her, her hands trembling as she reached into his shirt pocket. From here he can’t see what it was she grabbed. He knew it was shiny, small as she clutched the object in her hand close to her heart. She laid herself back again, sweat coating her face and her eyes screwing shut.

Alastor could see her more clearly now. He must admit that despite her disheveled appearance, she was quite pretty. An ethereal beauty he would never have guessed could exist in hell.

Actually, now that he’s looking at her, she kind of looks like-

“No way…” Lucifer whispered, his eyes wide and lips parted. His wings unfurled and pushed him towards the girl, who was now curling up into a ball. He skidded to his knees and gently cradled the strange girl in his arms. It was shocking, to say the least. “Sweetheart, what happened to you?!”

Sweetheart?

“Dad?!” Charlie yelled as she burst into the lobby with her girlfriend, Vaggi, trailing behind her. “What’s going on? What was that?!”

Lucifer stiffens and tries to shield the girl away from Charlie.

Now that’s interesting.

Instead of answering her, Lucifer disappears out of the room with the girl clutched close to his chest. The hotel falls silent while Charlie gapes at the spot where her father had just been.

“Alastor, what the hell happened?” Vaggi asked.

He doesn’t reply, his mind reeling as he replayed what transpired over in his head. The amount of power that washed over him the second that circle appeared had him fearing for his soul. It was palpable. The taste of it had him salivating. That was no ordinary sinner that much he knew for certain.

“Alastor, what was that?!” Charlie nearly cried. “Who- that girl… why was my dad-“

“He called her sweetheart, if that means anything to you.” Alastor replies, Charlie blinks.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes. That’s what he called her.” Alastor meets her gaze. “She appeared from a portal. Not to mention that.” He points his staff at the severed human body in the middle of the floor. “A human man tried coming in after her. Quite a sight.”

Quite a sight indeed…

“I don’t understand.” Charlie glanced around the mess of blood covering the lobby, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“Your father seemed rather worried about her.” Alastor pointed out as he waved a hand to tidy up the bloodshed. The lobby was cleaned in an instant, the severed body now sitting comfortably in his room where he will treat himself to a meal later. “Would you like me to investigate?”

“No. No, I’ll go.” She mumbled as she headed for her father’s bedroom. “Thank you for cleaning the mess.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” He bows and watches her rush out of the room with Vaggi right on her heels. Alastor waits a few moments, humming a jaunty tune to himself before he follows her in the shadows.

There was no way he was missing out on this.

When Charlie arrived at her father’s room, she, Vaggi and Alastor were shocked to see the three of the seven deadly sins gathered by his door.

“Is it really her?” Asmodeus whispered, his hulking frame shrunk down to fit into the hall. Alastor had seen him a few times on that noisy picture box everyone in the hotel insists on having. He knows that the sin of lust is usually a large, vibrantly colored, burly demon. His true stature is intimidating, to say the least. “I mean, it had to be right? You felt that?”

“How could I not?” Another sin, Beelzebub, replies. Beelzebub was a tall, slim fox like demon with a rather shapely body, her fur a light yellow with fushia stripes. She too is usually a giant creature, but like Asmodeus, she’s shrunk herself to fit into the hallway. “I mean my skin was literally crawling at the shift.” Her wings, which oddly resemble an insect’s, fluttered behind her as she used her two pairs of arms to hold herself. “It totally ruined the vibe at my party.”

“Where has she been?” Belphegor yawned, her eyes closed and her head resting against the doorframe. A sheep like llama demon with four arms and long, puffy lavender wool, with a melting black candle on her head that burned a pink flame. It was a fitting design for the sin of sloth. “It’s been what? Seven hundred years now?”

Seven hundred years? Just who is that girl that she earned the presence of the strongest demons in hell?

“Do you three know who’s in there with my father?” Charlie asked, her gaze jumping between each sin. They share a look before averting their gazes to the floor.

“She uh-“ Beelzebub sighs, her brows furrowed. “It’s not for us to say, princess.”

A blood curdling screaming echoed through the halls, the walls shaking and windows shattering. Charlie’s eyes widen, her chest heaving as she tried to advance forward. The sins stepped in front of her, blocking her path into the room.

“You don’t want to go in there.” Asmodeus warns, his tone light and soothing. “It’s not pretty.”

“I am the princess of Hell!” She snaps, but as usual with Charlie, there wasn’t much bite. “Move out of my way!”

They don’t budge. Their pitying gazes inform Alastor of all he needs to know.

They don’t take orders from her…

Charlie deflates at their defiance, her eyes watering. Vaggi comes up behind her and wraps her up in her arms.

“Let’s sit down over here, babe.” She coos and guides her to the closest chair. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get this figured out.”

Another scream, then the pleasant sound of cracking bones echoed into the air.

Instead of waiting outside with the rest, Alastor decided to sneak into the chaos.

Inside, Alastor is met with a hideous display of rubber ducks. Atrocious and tacky and-

“How much longer?” Lucifer’s voice filters from the back of the room. Alastor slithers further in, the stench of antiseptic and blood guiding him where to go. A hospital room, no doubt made from the King of Hell's magic, was where the bathroom once was. Another sin, Satan, was hovering over the girl’s body, her chest cracked open to reveal three missing rib bones. The rest were branded with some type of symbols Alastor couldn’t place.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Satan growled, a muscular dragon demon who Alastor heard had been running most of hell in Lucifer’s absence. His skin was different shades of red, two sets of different horns on his head, and his wings tucked close to his back as he gripped another rib from the girl’s chest and snapped the piece with the strange symbol on it. She screamed, tears streaking down her face as he continued to break more and more. “It would be easier if you kept her sedated.”

“I’m try-“

“No, you’re not!” Satan snapped. “You’re letting your emotions distract you!”

“Can you blame me?! It- Satan, it’s HER…” Lucifer grips her hand, a soft light glowing from his palm as the girl’s face went slack. “I haven’t seen her in so long.” He continued to pull and crack, her body healing a few minutes later after every extraction. Alastor watched with intrigue, his curiosity growing more and more with each passing second. “She’s gone for all these years and when she finally comes home she’s-“ His voice cracks. “She’s barely clinging to life.”

“I thought you were keeping tabs on her?”

“When she left, I tried, but… I guess I let her slip through my fingers.”

“That’s not the only thing you’ve let slip.” His gaze flicks over to Lucifer in disappointment. Lucifer ignores him, his attention only on the strange girl on the bed. “Last one.” One last crack and once again all of hell trembled underneath everyone’s feet. Heat surged through the room, that same power from earlier suffocating him from the shadows. “Fuck, that’s intense.”

“I know.” Lucifer cradles the girl’s hand close to his face. “Thank you for coming.”

“It’s the first time I’ve heard from you in years. Of course I’d come.” He runs a hand down his face. “Plus, I’ve never been able to say no to you, have I?”

“No, I guess not.” Lucifer glances at the door where the other sins and Charlie are still waiting. “What am I gonna tell Charlie?”

The room goes silent.

After a few minutes, Satan sighs.

“Tell her the truth.” He heads to the door, and Alastor’s ear perks up. “Tell her that her sister is home.”

Chapter Text

“Sister?” Charlie repeated for the tenth time since Lucifer sat her down with the other sins in his room. Alastor decided to stay hidden, his smile growing bigger and bigger at the news. “I have a sister?”

It was shocking. During all his time in Hell, Alastor never would have guessed there had been a princess before Charlie. It made sense now why Lucifer was so quick to help. He’s such a doting moron with Charlie that Alastor can understand why he helped that strange girl by calling for the sins of all demons.

“Yeah.” Lucifer squeezed the girl’s hand again, his holy light still glowing from his palm. “She’s uh- she’s your older sister.”

“I don’t understand.” Charlie frowned. “How could I not know about her? My own sister?”

“It’s… complicated. Your sister was- I mean, before you were born she was kind of-“

“Depressed?” Satan finished.

“Suffering?” Asmodeus added.

“Lonely?” Beelzebub listed off before glancing at Belphegor, who had nodded off. “Bell would say misunderstood. Like, it was pretty bad. I’ll never forget the last night I saw her. Poor thing was ready to-“

“Okay!” Lucifer nervously laughed. “She was going through some things, alright? When she left, I didn’t- your mother, and I thought it would be best to give her a break.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why not a single sinner or ME has ever heard about her. There are no pictures, no stories, nothing about her that shows she ever existed!”

“Charlie, it’s complicated, okay? Let’s just be glad she’s back. We can be a family again.” Lucifer sighed. “You’ll like her, Charlie. She’s a lot like you.”

Alastor’s interest died a little at that. If that’s true, then this girl is no more interesting than a stain on his shoe. He’s been more than disappointed meeting each member of the royal family. Not a single one of them has any backbone or power that could warrant his respect.

Charlie frowned, a deep crease forming between her brows as she stared down at her sister. The girl’s chest was closed up now, her body wiped down of all the blood and sweat and grime that was coating her skin. The king even went as far as to use his magic to dress her in a comfortable nightgown that appeared to be fashioned out of some type of angelic silk.

“She’s pretty.” Charlie said. “Is she gonna be okay? Can I do anything?”

“For now, let her rest. Satan broke off the seals on her ribs, so she should be feeling better soon.” Lucifer never took his eyes off the girl, reaching out and gently petting her hair. “I know you’re angry with me for not telling you about her, Charlie.”

“I’m furious, actually.” Charlie stood and turned her back to him. “She’s my sister. My family and you, for whatever reason, kept her from me.” Her shoulder sagged. “I don’t understand why, and I probably never will, but I’m going to make the best of the situation.”

“We should throw her a welcome home party.” Vaggi suggested, and Charlie nearly lit up the room with her smile. “We can have it in the ballroom.”

“That’s perfect, Vaggi!” Charlie gushed. “Oh my gosh, there’s so much to do!”

“Uh, Charlie, maybe a party isn’t the-“ Lucifer tried to stop her, but the little princess was already out the door. “Best idea…”

“She hasn’t changed.” Satan chuckled.

“Are we invited? You know I love a good party.” Beelzebub had her phone in her hand, typing away on her screen before glancing at the sloth sin again, who was still sleeping. “Bell said she’d love to go.”

“There’s not going to be a party.” Lucifer groaned. “We have no idea if she is going to stay once she’s healed and awake. I doubt she’d be happy attending a party she didn’t ask for.”

“I have to agree.” Asmodeus said. “With that being said, I’ll be heading out.” He fixed his suit and opened a portal back to the lust ring with a wave of his hand. “It was good seeing you again, sir.”

One by one the sins left back to their respected rings, all of them except Satan who was still sitting comfortably in his chair.

“I know what you’re going to say.” Lucifer huffed.

“Then I guess I won’t waste the breath.” Satan stood, his hand engulfed in flames as he opened his own portal. “Take care, sir.” He pauses halfway across the threshold. “You know she can’t keep hiding from them forever. They will know what she did eventually. We both know who had the power to put that sealing spell on her ribs.”

A sealing spell?

“I know.” He sighs. “When that time does come, I’ll protect her.”

Satan laughed, a deep, booming laugh that had Alastor’s ears pressing tight to his head.

“You and I both know there will be nothing we can do when they come for her. Let’s not act like we don’t know what a cunt Fate can be.”

He was gone before Lucifer could argue.

Alastor continued to observe, growing bored with the loving expression on Lucifer’s face. He began to hum, softly stroking the girl’s hair. A lullaby? It sounds familiar, but Alastor can’t place where he’s heard it before.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been watching. After he realized this was all he’d be witnessing today, Alastor decided to leave for the time being.

He was bored, and he’s sure that by the time he arrived downstairs Charlie would have a mountain of requests for him to do. A party of all things. Poor creature was gone for seven hundred years, going through hell knows what, and Charlie thinks it would be a great idea to have a party.

Oh well. No point in worrying about it. His curiosity about the new arrival has died down to nothing. A secret eldest daughter who had been missing on Earth. Yes, Alastor could sense great power from her, but if she’s anything like Charlie or Lucifer, then none of it seems entertaining anymore.

How disappointing…

Alastor went about his day-to-day activities without any word about the newest arrival. For the next six weeks, the king remained in his room with the girl, and Charlie was their only visitor. From the little information he’s eavesdropped here and there, the eldest princess has yet to wake up.

She was the talk of the town, though not exactly. Everyone in hell had been asking if they felt that immense power a few days ago. They wanted to know what it was. Was it a new overlord or was it the angels attacking? Some thought it was retaliation for the attempted holy war, or perhaps something worse that no one could put a name to.

Fortunately for them, it was neither. Just another princess gracing all of hell with her presence.

Alastor was on his way out for his routine stroll when Charlie stopped him by the door. His irritation spiked at the interruption, but hid it with a smile.

“How can I help you?” Alastor cocks his head, quirking a brow at her red face and puffy eyes.

“My sister! She- she’s awake!” Charlie gasps, and Alastor realizes then that she most likely ran down here to tell him. “We talked for five whole minutes!”

“Very lovely, dear. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He nods, stepping toward the exit only to be blocked by her again. His smile strains, his eyes narrowed as she points to the kitchen.

“She’s hungry!”

“And?” Charlie catches her breath and gives him a beaming smile.

“Well, I was wondering if you could cook that stuff again!”

“Stuff?” He quirks a brow.

“That dish you cooked for us when you first got here? It was so delicious. I thought that would be the perfect thing for her right now!”

“Jambalaya?” She snaps her fingers and grins.

“That’s it! Could you make it for her? Please?”

Alastor thinks it over for a moment. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to show off his cooking skills to the new princess. It was his mother’s recipe after all, and she’d be rolling in her grave if he denied a lady such a delicious meal.

“I’d be happy to oblige, dear Charlie! Give me an hour and I’ll take it up to her personally! I’ve been dying to meet this new arrival!”

An hour later, as he had promised, he had a large bowl filled to the brim with jambalaya. The steam was fogging up his monocle, the spices from the bowl wafting into his face. This was the one dish his mother was so excited to teach him. It was a staple in his home, one that made him rather nostalgic.

His hand was inches from the door when it suddenly swung open to reveal the King of Hell himself. He appeared to be annoyed at Alastor’s presence.

“Can you not read?” Lucifer asked as he pointed to the sign by his door that said no Alastors allowed.

“I can read just fine.” He smiles, annoyed. “I was asked to bring your secret daughter a warm meal. You know? The one no one knew existed.”

“Fuck yo-“

“There you are!” Charlie chirped as she skipped to the door. “Come in! We’re back here.” Alastor shot a shit-eating smile at Lucifer before following Charlie into the room. She guided him to the back where another bedroom, that he’s sure was not there before, sat. “We’ve been talking this whole time! She’s so nice, Alastor.”

They step into the room and he’s surprised to see it had a rather outdated style to it. The style he was more accustomed to. Stained glass windows, mahogany hardwood floors that were freshly polished, a fireplace, powdery blue walls with floral wallpaper, and a balcony that overlooked all of Pentagram City. There was a single white vanity and waterfall style bed covered in a feathered down comforter and pillows in the room. No other furniture, no pictures, nothing to feel homey at all.

“This is him!” Charlie calls as she approaches the bed. “The host of our hotel!” The girl comes into view, her attention focused on the city outside. Her head slowly turns in their direction, her gaze softening when she sees her sister. Then she looks at him, and her face falls, paling as if she’d seen a ghost. “His name is-”

“Alastor! Such a pleasure to meet you, my dear! I must say you do know how to make quite the entrance.” Alastor sticks out his hand, smiling wide and giving her a bow. He waited with his hand out, ready for her to return the gesture. She just stared at him, a mixture of emotions flashing across her face as he waited for her to return the gesture. After a few moments, she swallowed and cautiously took his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” She whispers, averting her gaze to the floor. “I apologize for the scene I caused.”

“Not a problem! Nothing I can’t fix.” He offers her the bowl of food, her eyes going wide at the sight and her stomach growling so loudly he could see the hint of embarrassment wash over her. “Charlie said you were famished, so I brought you up some-“

“Jambalaya.” She hums as she scoops up a spoonful of rice and shoves it into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed, a content sigh pushing past her lips as she scarfed down the food. Alastor watched her swallow every last morsel, a tad pleased with himself that she enjoyed his cooking so much. “Thank you.”

“Delighted to help. If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask.” Alastor gave her one last bow before heading for the door.

“I do have one more request.” She breathes, her fingers twisting into her comforter. “I’d like a radio for my room.”

He turns his attention back to her, interests perked.

“A radio?” Both Charlie and Lucifer ask.

“Yes. So I have something to listen to.”

“That’s easy.” Charlie grins. “I can get you a new one with Bluetooth!”

“No, I don’t need a new one.” She swallows. “I’d like a cathedral radio.”

Chapter Text

“Oh, Alastor, there you are!” Charlie calls, rushing over to him with a pep in her step. “Thank you again for getting my sister that radio. She’s been listening to it nonstop.”

He knows. Ever since he met her, Alastor has gone out of his way to check in on the girl, thanks to his shadows. She impressed him with her magnificent request. How could he not be curious about what she would be listening to?

To his delight, he was pleased to hear she had impeccable taste in music.

Louie Armstrong, Bessie Smith, Annette Hanshaw, Bing Crosby! All his favorites, all the music he grew up with and loved during his time with the living. It was truly refreshing to see someone in hell had good taste.

He’d watch her stare out the window, softly humming to each song on the radio, clearly lost in thought before her father or sister barged in to talk. She didn’t seem to mind having them there. In fact, she looked rather happy to be with her family.

But Alastor could see that glint in her eye, one of discomfort and pain. Was she not feeling better? From what he could observe, all her wounds had healed. Was something else ailing her?

Perhaps it was time for him to pop in personally. See if she may need anything else to make her more comfortable.

“Not a problem, my dear.” He smiles. “Happy to help.”

“Oh, and she loved the jambalaya you made. Said it was the best thing she’s had in a long time.” He preened at the praise. His mother would be proud. “Anyway, I have to head out for more decorations for the party. My dad is coming with me to send out the invitations. He said he knows people who would be happy to see her again.”

“Lovely.” Odd for him to say, considering Lucifer was so against the idea when Charlie first brought it up. The new princess must have agreed to stay.

“With that being said, would you be able to check in on her while we’re out? She’s still not feeling great, and I don’t want her spending too much time alone in her room.”

“Why, of course! Anything to help!”

Well, that worked out.

After Charlie and Lucifer left, Alastor sent out a shadow to check on the princess. She was still sitting in bed, staring out the window with her mind clearly elsewhere. He could see her clutching something in her hand, and he wonders if it was the strange object she had grabbed when she first arrived. It must be important to her.

As he arrives at her door, he quickly polishes up and puts on his best smile. He knocks on the door three times before entering. She blinks up at him in surprise, the object she had been holding earlier nowhere to be seen. Her radio was playing one of his favorites as he approached. Duke Ellington’s Take the ‘A’ Train. A classic.

“Hello.” She greets. “Can I help you?”

“On the contrary, I’m here to ask if I could help you with anything? Your sister asked me to keep you company while she was out with your father.”

“Did she?” She hums, her gaze flicking back to the window.

“Yes,” He says. “They’re throwing a party to celebrate your return home. Just some last minute preparations.” Her lips curl in a grimace, her nose scrunching up at the news. “Not a fan?”

“Not really.” She sighs. “I’m not a fan of parties. I never know what to do with my hands, and I guess, well, everyone loves to dance and I’m not much of a dancer so I tend to step on people’s feet A LOT.”

“I’m sorry, could you go back?” He interrupts. “You don’t know what to do with your hands? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean by that.”

“Oh, it… my power. Before I left hell, I would greet sinners and go over why they were here. With one touch of my hand, I could see their entire lives. Every little thing they did, their sins and whatnot. Then I’d send them on their way to do whatever it is sinners do.”

Now that’s something he didn’t know possible.

“Can Charlie do that?”

“No clue. I didn’t even know Charlie existed until a few days ago.” Her lips pursed, her gaze darkening. “Things are different from when I was here.”

He hums in acknowledgment and decides that a conversation with this princess might be worthy of his time. He conjures up a chair, a pot of coffee, and sweet treats he assumes she’d enjoy.

“How so?” He asks as he hands her a cup and a plate of sweets. She accepts and sips the coffee. Her brows rise, an odd expression flitting over her face. “Something wrong?”

“I’ve had this before.” She smiles softly, gazing into the cup. “They serve this at Cafe du Monde, right?”

“Yes!” He beams. “You’ve been?”

“I have.” She sips the coffee again. “Too bad you don’t have beignets. That would go perfectly.” Another sip. “Although, if I’m being honest, I always preferred hot chocolate with my beignets.”

Something twinged in his chest, a moment of familiarity washing over him at her words.

“I’m sorry?”

“I know. It’s a lot of sugar for one sitting, but what can I say. I have a terrible sweet tooth.” She runs her fingers around the rim of her cup. “This is still good, though. Thank you.”

He nods and forces that odd feeling away.

“Did you spend time in New Orleans often?” He asks after a beat. Her eyes meet his and she just… STARES at him for a moment too long. Long enough for him to squirm uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m prying. Forgive me for being so-“

“I did. I actually lived there for twenty years.”

“It’s where I’m from. Louisiana. I loved it.”

“It was beautiful.” She hums. “The music, the food, the culture and the people. That time of my life… it- well, it’s the only time I remember truly being happy.” Her eyes glossed over, her lips pressing into a thin line. “If I had the power to go back, I would.”

Alastor brings his mug to his lips, catching her attention. Her brow furrows, her head tilting to the side.

“Oh deer?” She reads, confused. “I think your mug has a typo.”

“Hm? Oh no.” He chuckled. “It’s a pun.” He gestures to his ears and tiny antlers. “See?”

“Deer?” Her lips parted, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh! You’re a deer! That’s why you look like that.” She lets out a breathy laugh. “That’s funny.”

“I thought so too.” He glances at the radio. “Making good use of your request?”

“I have. I’m glad I could find a station that doesn’t play all that new aged slop.” He watches her tap her free hand along to the beat, his smile stretching wider. “Would you know which station I could listen to a radio program on?”

“You want to listen to a broadcast?”

“Mhm. They’re entertaining if you find the right host.” She meets his gaze with a smirk.

“You are in luck, my dear!” He feels excitement bubble up inside him as he stretches out his arms and places a hand on the center of his chest. “You just so happen to be in the presence of a very popular radio host!”

“You?” Her gaze softens, a knowing tone in her voice that Alastor misses. “Really?”

“Perhaps you’ve heard of me! Alastor Hartfelt! I’d broadcast my show all throughout New Orleans at six PM for everyone to hear! It was the Golden Age of Radio after all.” He bows, she giggles. “I promise I was quite entertaining.”

“I believe you. Unfortunately, I don’t think I was in New Orleans at the time, or else I’m sure I would remember you.” She swallows thickly as she looks down at her coffee. “Are you still on the air?”

“Not in some time, but if you’d like, I could consider coming out of retirement. It’s been a while since someone with style has treated hell to a broadcast.”

“Wouldn’t that get in the way of your duties at the hotel? Charlie says you help out a lot.”

“That’s true. Fortunately, her girlfriend is around to cover for me, so it should be fine.”

“If you’re sure it won’t be a problem, then yes, I would love that.”

“Then expect a broadcast this time tomorrow.”

This is exciting. Ever since he returned from his forced seven year absence, all he wanted to do was return to his radio tower and get back to what he loved the most. To finally have an excuse to do so has him itching to start as soon as possible. Now not only was he feared throughout all of hell again and free of his chains, but now he can be back on the air!

And with his first guaranteed listener being the eldest princess of hell of all people.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Another sip, another sigh. “You’ve been very kind to me since I arrived. Thank you.”

“Nothing to it. Just doing my job as the host of the hotel, my dear.”

The song comes to an end, and a moment of silence passes between the two before another classic filters through the speakers.

“Billie Holiday.” She says. “Embraceable you. I love her version.”

“Can’t say I know it.” He shrugs. “Not too fond of love songs.”

“You used to be.” She mumbles, Alastor stiffens.

“Excuse you?”

“Did you know Ginger Rogers and Allen Kerns originally sang this song? They first performed it in a Broadway musical called Girl Crazy. Producers staged that musical two hundred and seventy-two times during the height of the Great Depression. Very successful.”

“I- what?” That was random. Random enough to distract him from his previous question. “Did you see the play?”

“Oh no,” She brushes him off. “I was a homebody. Rarely left the house.”

“Ah.” He nods, his curiosity sparking. “Why was that? Was it because of your power?”

“Yes,” She answers. “It’s unpleasant to see things you don’t want to know. Unpleasant and invasive.” Her fingers tighten around her mug, and he could see the muscles in her jaw flexing. “Sometimes I really hate my powers. I could do without them.”

“Is that the only thing you can do?” This is simply fascinating. Alastor can’t help but ask as many questions as he can. He’s honestly surprised she’s so open to answering.

“No, it’s not.” She smiles. “I can do a lot of things. Comes with the perks of being the first hellborn princess. Let’s see.” She sways from side to side. “I can break contracts.”

“You can?” Alastor sputters, shocked.

“Yeah. It’s easy. Like ripping paper.” She raises a finger. “Oh! A single drop of my blood can level a whole ring if I wanted it to. I was born with blood magic, but I’ve learned a few things during my lifetime to broaden my resume. I know every spell written inside all the grimoires in Hell that the Goetia keep safe. When I was in Louisiana, I learned Voodoo, which was interesting. Witchcraft, Divination, Chaos Magic, Alchemy. Stuff like that.”

“And you learned that all on Earth?”

“Well, I was there for seven hundred years.” She snorts. “I needed something to pass the time.”

Alastor was right.

His conversation with the princess was worthy of his time after all.

Chapter Text

“One last tidbit before we end for the night. A party will be in full swing tomorrow for the return of Hell's eldest daughter! That’s right, dear listeners, a secret eldest daughter! Can you believe it? Anyone who is anyone is to be in attendance. Overlords, the seven deadly sins, and some of hell’s most notorious demons! It’s invitation only, so if you didn’t get one, then that’s too bad! This party is sure to be a HELL of a time! Get it? Hell of a time? Cause we’re in hell?” Alastor chuckles. “Well, that’s all for tonight, sinners. Stay tuned for the next broadcast and remember- you’re never fully dressed without a smile! This is the Radio Demon signing off!”

Alastor ended his broadcast with a roaring round of applause.

His first broadcast in years, and it felt like he had never left. The second the ‘on air’ sign lit up, his confidence soared as he greeted his listeners for the night. It was exhilarating. He sat back in his chair, grabbing his mug and sipping his coffee with a smile. He hopes the princess enjoyed his show. After all, he did it for her.

Too impatient to wait, he sent a shadow out to gauge her reaction.

There she was again, sitting in her bed, but this time she was out from under the covers. Her legs are criss-crossed on the bed facing the radio, her hair a mess and her nightgown wrinkled. A smile adorned her face as soft giggles filtered through the air.

“Get it?” She laughs. “Cause we’re in hell?” She throws herself back onto the bed, rolling around in the sheets. “Oh, that was so good!”

So she was listening.

And she loved it.

Alastor summons his shadow back and checks the time. It’s around supper time. He should probably head down to help in the kitchen. With there being more guests in the hotel now, prep time and cooking have become a tedious chore he’s come to loathe. Everyone had their preferences and allergies, and Alastor had to make sure he accommodated them all. The responsibilities of a host, he supposed. With a heavy sigh, he takes his time traveling downstairs where the dining room was bustling with sinners.

The second he appeared, Charlie was at his side with a plate of food.

“What’s this?” he asks, cringing at the plate. It’s a green sauce of some type, melted cheese on top, and some kind of roll underneath. Heavy spices wafted into his face, surprised that it actually smelled appetizing.

“Vaggi made enchiladas! There’s plenty, so don’t be afraid to get seconds.” She rushes back into the kitchen where he glimpsed Niffty and Vaggi running around with aprons and giant serving spoons. Guess they don’t need his help after all. At least that’s what he thought until Charlie popped her head back out. “Oh, and Vaggi said you’re cleaning up!”

“Cleaning is Niffty’s job.” He points out to deaf ears as she disappears behind the door again.

“With how useless you’ve been, the least you can do is some cleaning.” Lucifer teased, Alastor narrowed his eyes. “Cause Maggie has been doing your job for months now.”

“Vaggi.”

“Hm?”

“Her name is Vaggi you imbecile.” Alastor scoffs. “She’s dating your daughter. The least you can do is remember her name.”

“No, right? No, I knew that.” Lucifer runs a hand down the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Vaggi. Of course.” The two stand awkwardly together before he clears his throat. “I’ll, uh- I’ll go see if they need help.”

Alastor rolls his eyes as the King of Hell heads into the kitchen.

Well he’s definitely not going in there now.

His mind wanders to the princess sitting all alone in her room.

He glances down at the plate and without a second thought snaps himself up to her door. Alastor waves a hand to fix any imperfections he may have and knocks.

“Come in.” She calls. When he steps into the room, he’s surprised to see her at her vanity. She’s brushing through her hair with her fingers, wincing in pain as she works out the knots. That’s when Alastor realizes she doesn’t have a brush. In fact, she has nothing to groom herself. “I was hoping you’d come by.” She winces, her fingers snagging in her hair. “Your show was amazing. You have the perfect voice for radio. Not to mention your taste in music. Oh, and your stories? I was eating them up! Very entertaining.”

“You flatter me.” He bows, buzzing at her praise. “I’m pleased to know you enjoyed yourself.”

“Will you be broadcasting tomorrow?”

“Your party is tomorrow, so no.” Her shoulders sag as she sighs. “You don’t appear to be excited.”

“I’m not.” She answers. “I really don’t want to go, but Charlie is so excited.”

So she only agreed to the party to appease her baby sister? Good to know.

“Want me to talk to her? I’ve been known to be rather persuasive.” More manipulative, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“No,” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I can do this. It’s for one night.” Her gaze lands on the plate in his hand. “What’s that?”

Oh right. The whole reason he came up here.

“I’ve brought your supper.” He sets the plate on her vanity as she stares at it with the same hesitant disgust he had earlier. “From what I’ve been told, they are called enchiladas.” She cautiously cuts a piece and takes the smallest bite he’s ever seen anyone take. Strange. When he served her his jambalaya, she practically inhaled it. Her brows rise and this time she takes a proper bite. “Good?” She nods. “Then I shall take my leave for the night. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight.”

The next morning, an obnoxious pounding on his door interrupted his breakfast. He was enjoying the last bits of the man who had crawled his way into hell when the princess arrived. Alastor must admit he tasted delectable. Truly a treat he hopes to have again.

“I can never eat in peace.” He huffs as he swings open the door. “Can I help you?”

“My sister is missing!” Charlie cried, her cheeks stained with tears. “I can’t find her anywhere in the hotel!” Missing? The princess is missing? “What if something happened? What if she went back to Earth, or someone kidnapped her? Maybe more of those men found a way here and-“

“Charlie, calm down.” Vaggi said, appearing behind her and resting her hands on her shoulders. “We’re gonna find her. I’ve been asking around the hotel and Husk said he saw her leave this morning before any of us were awake.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Charlie sniffled. “Did he say where she was going?”

“Shopping. I guess she needed something to wear for tonight.”

“She went shopping? Why didn’t she ask me to go?” Her lips form into a pout. “I could have helped her pick something out.”

“Husk said she wanted some time alone. I don’t think it’s anything against you, babe.” Vaggi brings her into a hug. “Come on. Let’s get the last of the preparations done.” She leads Charlie out of his room and down the hall.

Alastor softly closes his door, happily returning to his breakfast.

At least he tried to.

But then he pictured the princess wandering the pride ring with no one to escort her. She hasn’t been here in centuries. Things are different from when she was last here. How is she going to get around? She can’t possibly know where to buy the best quality clothes or accessories, or perfumes. So many establishments could easily take advantage of her. He sees how the sinners treat Charlie. It’d be too easy for them.

And what if some insolent moron tries to hurt her?

Actually, he might not have to worry about that too much. After hearing what kind of power she has, he’s positive she could hold her own in a fight.

Then again, if she’s anything like Charlie, she might not try to fight at all. If she were like her sister, she’d try to find a peaceful resolution by talking things out. They would kill her.

The more important question on his mind? What in the world did she leave the hotel in? All she had was that tattered medical gown she showed in and that silk nighty. His stomach drops at the idea that she was parading around Pentagram City in her pajamas.

“Damn it.” Alastor quickly slips on his coat, cleans his monocle, and summons his staff.

The second he steps out of the hotel, he sends out an army of shadows to pinpoint her location. An hour had passed before he finally found her. To his dismay, she was in fact parading around in her nightgown that left very little to the imagination and no shoes. NO SHOES?! If he wasn’t already dead, the sight alone would have killed him.

The princess was skimming through a rack of dresses that were way before his time. Masquerade ball gowns with too many ruffles, too many jewels, and too dramatic for a simple welcoming home party. She held out a gaudy green dress that was covered in pink bows. He watches in horror as she looks to the site clerk and asks if they had one in her size.

Oh, absolutely not.

“Princess?” He gently taps her shoulder, and she squeaks in surprise. “What an earth are you doing?”

She blinks up at him, and this is the first time Alastor has noticed how much taller he was than her. She’s craning her neck all the way back just to look him in the eye.

“Shopping.” She replies. “What are you doing here?”

Yes… what is he doing here?

Cause he was worried?

Cause he cared?

Ha. NO.

“Your sister was worried about you, my dear! She barged into my room in a state of shock, begging me to help find you.” He lies. “So, here I am.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. It wasn’t the way I pictured my morning going.”

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes. “I wasn’t trying to worry anyone. I just wanted to do something by myself.”

“It’s quite alright.” He reassures her, softening his smile. “Anyway, since I'm here, would you like some hel-“

“I don’t.” She interrupts and turns her attention back to the dresses. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” He stands there in a stunned silence, blinking a few times before tapping on her shoulder again. “Yes?”

“You are in your pajamas.” He gestures to her bare, dirty feet. “And you have no shoes.”

“I’m aware.” She frowns. “It’s why I’m shopping.”

“And you’re aware these are masquerade dresses?” This makes her pause. “A little too over the top for a party, don’t you think?”

“I… Is this not what we’re supposed to wear?”

“No.” He can’t help but chuckle. “I’d suggest a simple evening gown. That should do the trick.”

“They don’t have that here?” She glances around the shop again. “I thought they did.” She sighs, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I guess I don’t know what I’m doing after all.”

For a princess with such immense power, she sure is clueless.

“I know you didn’t want my help, but-“ He held his arm out for her to take. “I could keep you company. Maybe escort you to where you should go? Does that work better for you?”

She bites the inside of her cheek, glancing between him and the dresses for a few seconds before slipping her arm around his.

“Okay,” She mumbles. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He waves a hand and summons a jacket and a pair of shoes for her to wear. “Here, put these on. It’s not proper to walk around as you are.”

“I’ll take the jacket, but you can keep the shoes.” She says. “I don’t like them.”

“Luckily, with the power of magic, I can conjure up a different style for you. What would you like?” He asks, happy to help, but she simply giggles. “What?”

“I meant I don’t like shoes. I hate wearing them. They’re uncomfortable.”

Another wave of familiarity washed over him at her comment.

“I see…” He trails off and once again forces that feeling away. “Noted.”

What an odd thing to say…

Chapter Text

Alastor was having a better time than he thought possible by escorting the princess around shopping. He took her to all the best shops in Pentagram City. Any time she needed advice on what outfits to choose or what was in style, he was there with an answer. He helped her pick out the perfect dress for tonight, a few casual outfits for everyday use, loungewear, pajamas, and undergarments, which he respectfully waited outside for while the store clerk helped her.

There were even two pairs of shoes that he practically had to force on her. One pair for everyday use and a pair for the party. She really did NOT like wearing shoes. Alastor only managed to convince her when he informed her that the party had a strict dress code.

“The party?” She gaped. “The one that’s being thrown for me? There’s a dress code?”

“Of course!” He lies. “You have Charlie to thank for that. She wanted everything to be perfect, and she thought a dress code would be just the thing.” Alastor has no idea if that’s true or not. He wasn’t really involved with the planning committee. Oh well. It’s a harmless lie.

“Well, that’s silly.” She huffs as she plops down on a chair and pouts.

“My what a childish display! I didn’t think a princess would have such a tantrum.”

“I’m not having a tantrum.”

“Oh? Are you sure?” he laughs. “Cause you’re pouting like a baby about having to wear shoes of all things.” She’s quiet as she gazes down at the floor. Her arms cross over her chest, her face in a frown as she holds her hand out to him. “Hm?”

“Give me the damn shoes.”

After that, he helped her pick out some essential grooming necessities, perfumes he personally thought smelled lovely, and jewelry he had more of a say in than he should have. He even took her to a salon to have her hair professionally done. She was pretty when she didn’t have her hair fixed or make up. Now? Truly mesmerizing.

With the shopping done and out of the way, Alastor guided the princess back to the hotel. Every sinner who laid their eyes on him cowered in fear or hid away to avoid his path. Perfect. That is how it should be. The most feared sinner in all of hell. An overlord who deserved respect and would never cross. This is how things were before his disappearance.

And Alastor is going to make sure it stays that way.

Alastor couldn’t tell if the princess noticed everyone avoiding them. If she did, she didn’t comment on the matter. He was a little disappointed she didn’t. It would have been the perfect chance for him to show off his power to her. Impress her, as he knows he can. Instead, she kept her attention on the passing shops, her arm in his as he hummed a tune he thought she would be familiar with.

Suddenly she stopped and pointed at a store across the street.

“Can we stop there?” She asks.

“Of course.” He guides her across the street and politely holds the door open for her. A bookstore filled to the brim with dusty old books he’s never seen before. It smelled of vanilla and musty paper, not a single sinner in sight as she excitedly browsed through the shelves. “You do know there’s a library in the hotel? Why not read the books there?”

“This isn’t for me.” She said as she gently pulled a book off the shelf. He watched her purchase the novel and rushed back over to him. “This is for you. For being so helpful and patient with me.”

“Me?” He blinks down at the cover. “The Great Gatsby?”

“Mhm,” She hums. “The defining novel of the Roaring Twenties and jazz. A classic.” She heads for the door, his gaze following her every move. “I used to have a signed copy.”

“Really?”

“Yup. My library on Earth had all kinds of signed copies and first editions. I loved it.”

“You must have had quite the collection.” He says as he follows her out, the book clutched tightly to his chest. “Seven hundred years’ worth, correct?”

“Uh, no.” Her hands were tucked behind her back, a soft smile on her face as she continued to the hotel. “I didn’t start collecting until the nineteen hundreds after I built my house. It was a beautiful home. I had it all to myself for about twenty years before-“ She shakes her head, peering up at him through her lashes. “That’s… not important- anyway I needed something to do to pass the time, so I started collecting. Besides my bed, my books were the only things I had in my home.”

Alastor freezes in his tracks, his head tilting to the side.

There it was again. That feeling.

“Y/n!” An aggravating voice yelled. “Sweetheart, there you are!” Lucifer comes flying down at an ungodly speed and nearly tackles the princess to the ground. She stumbles back, laughing as she wraps him up in a hug. “I’ve been looking every- what is he doing here?” He points to Alastor with a sneer. “Why are you with my daughter?”

“He was keeping me company.” She answers. “I may have gotten in over my head with this whole shopping business.”

“Your sister and I could have helped you,” Lucifer screwed up his face at her coat. “I hope you didn’t pay for this. It’s hideous.”

“It’s mine.” Alastor points out.

“That makes sense.” Lucifer snickers; she frowns.

“I like it.” She quips. Alastor can’t help the shit-eating smile on his face as he glances down at Lucifer.

“See? Your daughter has good taste.” He motions to the king’s tacky white outfit. “Unlike other royalty I know.”

“I have impeccable taste!” Lucifer snaps.

“Drab, if you ask me.”

“Drab?! Oh, I’ll show you-“

“I’m hungry.” The princess interrupts, stepping between the two. “Shall we get something to eat?”

“I’m not going anywhere with him.” The two men replied together, earning themselves a giggle from her.

“Right, well, you two can stand here and bicker like an old married couple. I’m going back to the hotel to see if Charlie would like to have lunch.” She turns and waves goodbye. “See you tonight.”

“Ah, I’ll go with you!” Lucifer chased after her, using his wings to give him a push until they were walking side by side.

Alastor doesn’t join. He watched the two head back to the hotel before they turn a corner and his attention goes to the book. She had given him a gift. The last gift he had received was from Niffty. A sweet gesture conjured up in that twisted little mind of hers. He treasures it, even has it on display on the vanity in his room.

But this?

This book was something he’d truly enjoy. A piece of literature from when he was alive that he hadn’t had the opportunity to read. It was a beautiful copy, too. A book he’d positively enjoy. The roaring twenties? Jazz? A story about wealth, power, and parties? Positively splendid.

And she picked it out just for him.

Alastor used his shadows to teleport himself back to the comfort of his room. He still had a few hours until the party. So he took the time to read a few chapters before the party began.

One chapter turned into two, then three, then four, and the next thing Alastor knows, it’s three and a half hours later. A very interesting story. Different from what he expected, but still good. It was intriguing. That being said, he must repay the princess for such a thoughtful gift. He’s not sure what yet, but he’s positive he’ll think of something.

Checking the time, Alastor sees it’s still an hour until the party. He fixes himself a rye whiskey on the rocks before rummaging through his closet for what to wear. Something dapper, of course. He has to look his best tonight. There’s about to be some very high-ranking power under the hotel’s roof. As the host of the hotel, it’s his job to give a great first impression.

“This should do the trick.” He grabs a three-piece tailored suit, one he only wears on special occasions. Straight-legged black trousers, a white-collared dress shirt, a cherry wide-lapel jacket, and polished pointed oxfords. “Perfect.” Alastor grabs his staff, cleans his monocle, and puts on his best smile. “Absolutely perfect.”

By the time Alastor arrived at the ballroom, he saw Charlie was already there with Vaggi, Niffty, Cherri, and Lucifer dressed in their nicest clothes. They were all talking among themselves, each buzzing with excitement as they admired the decorations. There were balloons, streamers, confetti, and glitter everywhere. A giant sign that read ‘Welcome Home’ was hanging above the stage where a band was setting up. There were circular tables surrounding the dance floor, and large buffet tables lined up against the wall.

“Don’t you look sharp.” A soft voice complimented behind him. Alastor startles, surprised someone had gotten the jump on him. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you.” Alastor turns to see the princess smiling up at him, the corners of her eyes crinkled and deep dimples in her cheeks.

Alastor doesn’t reply. He’s too busy soaking her in. He had helped her pick out the dress she was in, but to see it adorn her body was something else entirely. A perfectly tailored, timeless satin dress with a pearl necklace and pearl earrings to complete the look.

“You look fetching.” He breathes. “Good to see our little outing was a success.” Alastor glances down at her shoes. “Your feet are covered! See? They aren’t so bad.”

“Mhm.” Her smile becomes strained, nodding as she glances down at her feet. “Very comfy.”

Alastor gazes at her for a few moments longer before clearing his throat and holding out his arm to her. She takes it happily. They take a single step, and the princess wobbles, her ankle cracking as she tries to hold herself upright.

And that’s when he notices she’s holding onto him a tad too tightly

It happens again and again until Alastor can’t take it anymore. For one thing, she sounds like she’s in pain. The other is that she’s wrinkling his suit, and he doesn’t like it.

“Sorry.” She mutters.

“Everything alright?”

“As right as rain.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” His brows furrow, his attention trailing down to the freshly forming creases on his suit. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her, surprisingly. She separates herself from him and moves on ahead with a nod. “Sorry. I uh- I can walk on my own.” Yet even as she says that, it is quite a pitiful sight watching her walk to her sister and father.

It was like watching a newborn baby learn to walk. She stumbled a lot, her legs wobbly and ankles twisting with every step. Charlie notices her first, then her father as they gather around and shower her with compliments. Alastor watches Charlie introduce her to Niffty and Cherri, each handshake causing her smile to waver.

She’s uncomfortable already, and the party hasn’t even started. How is she going to handle the next couple of hours?

Maybe he can conjure her up a better pair of shoes? Would that help?

But as the princess shakes the hand of Husker, Alastor can see the way the light in her eyes dims and how desperately she wants to recoil from the touch.

Her power…

She’s learning everything about his fellow sinners against their will and hers.

It’s unpleasant to see things you don’t want to know. Unpleasant and invasive.

That’s right. She hates that part of her power.

Alastor racks his mind for some ideas to help the princess. It was her party after all, and he wanted her to enjoy it.

What kind of host would he be if he didn’t make sure ALL its residents were happy?

Yes, that’s it.

Just part of the job.

Chapter Text

Ten overlords, twenty demons, five goetia, and the seven deadly sins are in attendance. Fifty guests for the princesses party, and each of them happy to make her acquaintance. Dancing, decent food, terrible music and hot gossip. Charlie was singing along to the songs with her father and Vaggi. Husk was manning the bar while having a lively conversation with Cherri. Niffty had been running around the entire time cleaning up any spills she saw while still hanging around with that anglerfish Baxter, who Alastor didn’t know had been invited.

The overlords were mingling among themselves since they were the only other sinners in the room. The sins and demons are currently playing drinking games, and from what he could see, Beelzebub was drinking them all under the table. Then there were the goetia who had gathered at a table together to soul watch, whispering under their breaths about everything they see.

Everyone was having a splendid time.

Except for her.

Alastor has been watching her all night.

And she looked positively miserable.

She’s all alone by the garden entrance and hasn’t once tried to socialize with a single soul. Apart from the introductions, she immediately secluded herself from everyone. Every so often he’d catch her slipping off her heels to rest them for a few seconds before reluctantly slipping them back on. Alastor thought that with her being a member of royalty, she’d be more worried about keeping appearances. Instead, she’s gone out of her way to let every guest know she’d rather be anywhere but here.

Alastor thought about approaching her to keep her company. He even tried to come up with ideas for what he could do to help her feel more comfortable. The only thing that presented itself was a pair of gloves that would go with her gown and maybe telling her that she didn’t actually need to wear the shoes. It was a good idea.

Unfortunately, every time he attempted to reach out, something, or someone would get in the way. If it wasn’t her father or her sister grabbing her attention, then it was one of the demons Alastor had only heard about in stories. He wanted to help. He really did. After twenty failed attempts, he decided to let things be. It wasn’t like him to give up, but this wasn’t something he found would be a total loss.

So she was a little uncomfortable.

Who isn’t?

She’ll be fine until the end of the night. There were only a few more hours until the fireworks Charlie had planned, and then everyone could go back to the respective homes for the night, and she could go back to her room.

“You’re gonna burn holes into the side of her face if ya keeping staring like that, Alastor,” Rosie said as she appeared by his side. “Working out more power plays in your head?”

“No,” he replies. “Curious is all.”

“Uh huh.” She clicks her tongue. “Charlie tells me you’ve been helping her sister out a lot. Even escorted her shopping this morning.”

“I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let the eldest princess wander around Pentagram City alone, would I?”

“You’re broadcasting again. Heard that was another request from her.”

“I was feeling nostalgic.” He shrugs. “She favors the time when I was alive. It’s refreshing to meet someone who appreciates the good ole days. Why she’s even been to New Orleans! Can you believe that? Small world.”

“Right.” Rosie nods, his eyes narrow. “She is odd, though. With her family being Charlie and Lucifer, I’d thought she’d be more- what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Emotional?”

“Theatrical.” She chuckles. “She’s very quiet, isn’t she?”

“She’s uncomfortable.”

“She is?” Rosie studies the princess. “She looks fine to me.”

“Her feet are killing her.” He admits. “She doesn’t like to wear shoes. I found her this morning walking barefoot around the city. It took a lot of convincing to wear that pair. Not to mention, I’m positive she has no idea how to wear them.”

“Oh, my!” Rosie lifts her hand to her mouth in shock. “A lady who doesn’t know how to wear heels? Never heard of that before.” Alastor doesn’t reply, trying to ignore her knowing stare. “But you have.”

“Don’t.” The static in his voice rises as anger bubbles to the surface. “Don’t you dare bring her up.”

“Just saying.” She hums, softening her gaze. “You can talk about her, ya know? It’s okay.”

“I’d rather not.” Alastor pushes back the memories that were scratching their way to the surface. He doesn’t want to think about you. Not today. He also doesn’t want to admit to Rosie that every second he spends with the princess he gets this unpleasant wave of familiarity. He just knows she’ll have something to say about it, and he really wasn’t in the mood to listen. “Anyway, her power is most likely souring her mood.” Rosie frowns, clearly disappointed by the subject change. “She can see the lives of every soul she comes into contact with. Why we’re here and our lives on Earth.”

Rosie’s brows rise as she blinks in shock.

“Well, that’s new. Never heard of a power like that before.”

“Me either. From what she told me, she might be the only one who can.”

“She told you that?”

“Yes. We’ve conversed a few times, and she is always more than happy to answer my questions.”

“Huh… Interesting.” Rosie’s attention flicks back to the princess who has inched closer to the exit. “She won’t talk to anyone else.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve tried to strike up a conversation with her a few times now, and she will barely mutter a yes or no. When Carmilla asked her how she felt being home, she shrugged and smiled. Zestial tried a more simple approach.” She waves a hand. “Doth this sustenance please you?” Her imitation of the overlord was spot on and even earned a genuine chuckle from the radio demon. “Wanna know what she said?”

“Do tell.”

“Not a single peep.” This information was puzzling. The princess has happily answered all his questions. Big or small, she tells him whatever he wants to know. “I have an idea.” Rosie claps, her razor sharp teeth glinting in the light. “Why not accompany me to talk to her? Maybe you can help her come out of her shell?” He supposes he could. That would give him the opportunity to gift her the new pair of shoes and gloves he had his shadows go out and fetch.

“Alright.” His smile stretches as he leads Rosie over to the princess who now had her back against the door. “Princess! What on earth are you doing here? You should be socializing!”

She blinks up at him, then at Rosie.

“I was trying to run away.” She answers clearly, unbothered by his presence.

“Before you do that, I have a gift I’d like to give you.” With a wave of his hand, he produces a gift bag that he had not given approval for. He hates it when his shadows decide to have a mind of their own. She gingerly grabs the bag and peeks inside. “I meant to give these to you when the party started, but I kept missing my opportunity. They should help you feel more comfortable.” She pulls out a pair of black and red T-strap shoes with intricate stitching. He figured since she has an affinity for the twenties she’d enjoy these. Next were the satin white gloves that stretched up to her elbows. “To help with that pesky power of yours.”

Rosie had a shocked expression on her face as the princess silently accepted the gifts, sliding the gloves on and replacing her shoes.

Alastor ignored the questioning look on Rosie’s face, waiting to see if the princess enjoyed his gesture or not.

“I love them, Mr. Hartfelt. Thank you.” Her voice cracked, her eyes glossy. “Truly. They are wonderful.”

“No need to be weepy.” He bows. “They are nothing special.”

“Still.” She runs her gloved fingers down her arms, savoring the smooth satin that would protect her from all those invasive thoughts. “I used to have a pair on Earth. Laced hand gloves that were specially made for me.”

“A gift from a suitor?” Rosie asked, she nodded. “Oh, that’s juicy!”

“He was a true gentleman. So charming.” She had this far-off look in her eye as she reminisced about this man on earth. A man who must have been very special if he caught the attention of the princess of Hell.

“You must tell me all about him, hun! I love a good love story.” Rosie coos. “I’ll even tell you about my dear departed husband, Franklin.” Rosie guides her to a nearby table where she summons an imp server for the three of them. “Could you fetch us some drinks from the bar? I’ll have an ichor daiquiri!”

“Sazerac for me, good fellow.” Alastor says. The princess adds her order in as well, shifting in her seat a bit to try to get more comfortable. The band began to play a song he was familiar with, something upbeat and dance worthy. “Now, about this gentleman suitor of yours.” He looks at her. “Spill the tea.”

“No.” Her hand taps against the table to the beat of the music. Her reply takes Alastor and Rosie by surprise. They thought she wanted to talk about her suitor since she agreed to join them at the table. “I remember when this song came out. 1923. Did you know they wrote the song to accompany the dance?”

“The Charleston?”

“Yes.”

“I mostly recall it being controversial.”

“It was, but I don’t believe that stopped anyone.” She giggles. “It’s quite fun if you can learn the steps right.”

“You’ve tried?”

“I’m a lost cause when it comes to dancing. Remember? I have a tendency to step over people’s feet.”

“Oh nonsense! It’s easy. I was known to cut a rug back in the day. Perhaps I could teach you.” He offers. “It’ll be fun! You could learn the Lindy hop, or the Shag, or the Bee’s knees- ah, even skip ups!” Alastor was excited just talking about it. He loved to dance when he was alive. Give him a few glasses of rye and some good jazz and he is a hell of a time. “What do you say?”

The princess shook her head ‘no’ with a soft giggle while Rosie gawked between the two. A sly smirk pulled at her lips as she leaned back in her chair a little.

“My Alastor. I’ve never seen you so genuinely excited to help anyone before.” Rosie points out, Alastor’s eye twitches. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“I’m simply being a good host.”

“If you say so, dear.” The drinks arrived at the table, the three of them quick to chug down their drinks and ask for another round. “Now princess! You must have all kinds of stories from your time on Earth. Would you mind sharing?”

“I’d much rather hear about you two.” She gestures between them. “How do you two know each other?”

“We’re friends.” Alastor said. “She was the first sinner here who took me under her wing when I first arrived.” It’s a lie, but the princess doesn’t need to know that. “She’s the only one here I consider an equal.”

“You flatter me.” Rosie nudges his shoulder, gently pushing him in his chair. “Alastor is such a sweetheart when he’s with me! He sure knows how to make a lady feel special!”

“I’ve noticed.” She hums, her smile forced as she turns her attention back to the garden doors. A dark expression filters over her face, a look that had goosebumps crawling up Alastor’s skin. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

She was gone before either of them could reply.

Chapter Text

“If looks could kill.” Rosie whistled. “I wonder what’s got her looking so irate.”

“It was chilling, wasn’t it?” Alastor smiled. “Look! Goosebumps Rosie! The last time I felt fear like that was when I met Zestial!”

“Wow,” She awed. “So… are you gonna follow her? Use your shadows like you usually do, ya little sneak?”

“Should I?” He was going to go no matter what her answer would be. “She did seem distressed.”

“It’s what a gentleman would do.” She shrugs.

“And I’m nothing if not a gentleman.” Alastor excuses himself from the table, using his shadows to search for the princess.

She had been looking toward the garden doors, so he started there. No less than a few minutes later, he found the princess sitting on a bench that was positioned under a statue of her family. She’s staring up at the red pentagram in the sky, her shoes long gone and her gloves folded neatly by her thigh.

Alastor was ready to make himself known when her voice cut through the silence.

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here.” She sighs, he stiffens. He didn’t think she’d notice his presence. “I will give you credit for your bravery. Stupid but still brave.” She stretches her legs out in front of her. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to leave?”

“Not until I finish my mission.” A male, whiny voice snarled. A dog demon with green fur, sharp teeth that resembled tusks, yellow eyes, and pointed tuft ears climbed out of the bushes, a knife in his paw as he pointed it directly at her. “You’re an abomination! Pure evil in a deceitful form!”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I will kill you, demon! When I do, I’ll finally earn my place in heaven where God will welcome me with open arms.” Drool dripped from his snout, his lips curled up to expose more of his sharp teeth. “You’ll burn for-“

“Burn?” She snorts. “Me? That’s funny.”

She hadn’t looked at him once. She’s not bothered by his threats, his weapon, or him. If this were Charlie, she’d be a nervous mess before him, or Vaggi would come in to save the day. The eldest princess, though? She looks bored, unworried.

“You’re laughing now,” he stepped closer, his blade pointed right at her heart. “But I know what scares you. What makes you scream? You’re acting tough now, but let’s not forget when you were begging me to kill you. Especially after I took your ring.”

Now that got a reaction from her. Alastor realizes that this wasn’t any ordinary sinner. This must be the human who followed her through the portal when she first arrived. The object she had fished from his breast pocket and has been holding it close to her chest was a ring. A ring that meant so much to her that just the mention of it is causing her to lose her composure.

The surrounding air became stifling and sweltering hot. Her eyes shifted to a deep blood red, and black giant horns protruded through her forehead and curled around her ears. The nails she had manicured for the party grew twice in size, sharp, curved, and pointed.

“You’re testing my patience.” Her voice was deeper, laced with venom and hate Alastor could feel from where he was standing. “I’m being nice. You should take advantage of that if you want to live.”

“You don’t scare me. You’re weak!” He laughs. “I’ve always been stronger than you.”

“Mhm.” She stands, her nails digging into her palms and puncturing her flesh. “You sure think that, don’t you?” Her blood dripped onto the cobbled floor, and Alastor watched in awe as more and more blood bubbled up from the cracks. “You see, the thing is-“ Before he could tell what was happening, bloodied chains bursted from the ground and wrapped around the sinner. His body slammed into the ground, his blade clattering off to the side and swallowed up by the blood. “You’re in my kingdom now.” She rips him up by the chains to meet him eye to eye, ignoring his tiny yelps and whines. “And your soul belongs to me.”

And then he was gone.

The princess sat back on the bench, her gaze on the sky once again, as if she hadn’t been threatened a few seconds ago. She was humming that same tune he hears from her whenever she thinks she’s alone, the same tune he swears he’s heard before. The blood that had pooled at her feet was gone, not a drop to be seen. It was like it never happened.

Surely he hadn’t imagined that.

He felt that power again, the bloodthirsty pressure that weighed down on him when the princess fell into hell. Every second of the scene he saw told Alastor she definitely wasn’t as sweet or naïve as her little sister. She was someone he always pictured when he thought of hell. Powerful… Terrifying.

“I’m impressed.” A deeper, chilling voice echoed before a demon appeared next to the princess. A hulking eight feet tall, mostly bone and red skin, stood there. Long, wispy black hair, six obsidian eyes, and odd tattoos covered his arms, legs, and chest. He had wings tucked close to his back, nothing but brittle bone and oozing a black tar that stained the floor. His teeth were pointed, tiny, and lined on top of each other. “I thought with how long you’ve been gone you’d be rather weak. Good to see I was wrong. A very scary display.”

“Azazel,” She greets, smiling up at him. “I didn’t think you’d show. Last I remember, you and my father were fighting.”

Now he’s an unexpected sight to see. This is the first time any of the fallen angels have shown their faces here in the Pride Ring since Alastor has resided in Hell. To put a face to the name is rather nice.

“All in the past. I can’t even remember what it was about.”

“You insulted his hat.” She replies, he gives her an endearing chuckle. “You know how much he loves his hat.”

“Would you believe me if I said we didn’t talk for five hundred because of it?”

“I can.” She pats the seat beside her. “Join me?”

“Of course.” He sits, and they remain in silence for a few moments before he clears his throat. “So who was that pathetic soul just now? Someone you know?”

“I did on earth.”

Alastor is beginning to realize he should hide in the shadows more often. He’s learning quite an abundance of information when he does.

“What did he do? It must have been pretty bad if you locked him away in that little pocket of yours.”

“He stole my ring.”

“A ring? You ripped a hole in time and space for a ring?”

“It’s special to me.” She huffed. “Plus, he was threatening me! I couldn’t let that go!”

“Yes, he was spouting some interesting nonsense.” Azazel placed a hand on her knee. “Do you want to talk about it?” She turns her attention to the ground and rests her hand over his.

“I’d rather show you.” A light glowed from her palm, soft and warm, and Alastor felt oddly peaceful, just looking at it. Azazel's eyes glossed over, his lips parting as his shoulders sagged forward. Mere seconds passed by, but whatever the princess had shown him had Azazel jerking his hand back.

“And I thought we demons were cruel.” He hisses, his wings clicking behind him. “How unforgivable! The nerve of those humans and Fate to just disrespect you like that!” He glances at the party, the music thrumming inside. “Does he know who you are?”

“No, and I want to keep it that way.” She says, gripping his hand tighter. “It’s better if he doesn’t. It’s safer for him.”

“Right,” Azazel nodded. “I always wondered why you up and disappeared for so long. To know why I’d… well, it’s understandable all things considered.”

“I don’t regret it.” She rests her head on his shoulder. It’s becoming very clear to Alastor that these two are close. Lovers perhaps? “I’d do it all again if I had to.”

“You say that now, but what are you going to do when the angels find out what you did? They will cast divine punishment, princess. When they do, there will be nothing me or your father could do about it.”

Oh, this is interesting. Alastor remembers Satan discussing the same thing when the princess first arrived. It had him wondering what she could have done that would earn her the wrath of heaven and divine judgment.

And this man she’s talking about. Who could it be? The one who doesn’t recognize her and has some important job in hell. Alastor hasn’t seen her associate with anyone other than him and her family since she arrived.

“I know.” She swallows. “Believe me, I know.”

“That being said, there is one thing I’m positive I can help you with.” He grins, showing off an unsettling amount of teeth. “I’d like to personally take care of the little sinner myself and any of those religious cultists that end up here.”

Oh? That’s surprising. Do these fallen angels have the power to hurt sinners? Lucifer can’t because of his punishment, but is it different for the other fallen angels? Are their punishments different?

“You’d do that?” She blinks up at him, surprised. “You don’t like dealing with the sinners.”

“I’ll make an exception for them.” He pats her head and stands. “After what they did to you, they deserve only the best company for their eternity. No chance at redemption for them, that’s for sure.”

“You’re too kind to me, Azazel.”

“You’ve always been my favorite. You were the best in your class and the only one who surpassed not only me but Abaddon in battle. I’d even admit you are the last person I’d want to go to war with.” He ruffles her hair, she giggles. “Consider it a ‘welcome home’ gift if that makes it easier to accept.”

“How is Abaddon, by the way?”

“He’s been spending a lot of time in the wrath ring. I spoke to him before I arrived. He said, to stay scary.” She laughs again, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’s good to have you back. Call me if you need anything.”

She holds her palm out, and Alastor watches as a green smoky orb appears in her hand. Azazel plucks it from her, cracking it a bit before shattering the orb like glass. Then he was gone in the blink of an eye.

The princess leans her head back, her eyes fluttering closed as she runs a hand down her face.

Alastor observes her for a moment longer. He’s learning more and more about her as time passes. The power she possesses is great enough to have two of the greatest demons in hell fear her ire. She’s intelligent, has impeccable taste, thoughtful, and is the most intriguing soul he’s ever met. A little odd, quirky- yes, but he doesn’t mind that too much.

No, he doesn’t mind it at all…

Alastor breathes, fixes himself up for her, something he’s doing more often than not lately, and makes his presence known.

He’d be lying if he said that the smile on her face when she saw him didn’t have Alastor feeling a tad giddy.

Why?

He has no ungodly idea.

Chapter Text

"Alastor?”

“Yes?”

“I have a request to ask of you.”

“And what might that be darling?”

“Please don’t leave tonight…”

He stiffens, his brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“I just… I have a feeling.”

Ah.

Now he understands. For as long as he’s known you, Alastor has never once questioned the odd feelings you’d get from time to time. You were always so spot on with them that he learned to trust your little gift.

But tonight he can’t. He had to get rid of the body rotting away in his shed before anyone noticed. The disrespectful swine who had the audacity to hurt you all those years ago. One by one he’d taken care of them throughout the years. The first man, Connor Mulligan, was the first one to strike you. Alastor hunted him down and cracked open his rib cage with his bare hands. It made for delicious BBQ.

The second was Neil Pendergast, the man who kicked you so hard he broke six of your ribs. Archer Daniels, who broke your nose and bloodied your face nearly beyond recognition. Samuel Cain ripped out some of your hair and shattered your arm.

And last but not least, Franklin Galloway. The ringleader of the group and the man who decided for everyone to leave you in that alley to die. Alastor saved him for last. Flayed him alive until he was nothing but exposed muscle. It was some of his more brutal work, but the jerky that came from it was positively delicious.

Alastor will never forget that day. How he wasn’t there to save you. How you promised to be there for his first broadcast and instead Alfie came running in a panic crying that you were in trouble. Alfie said a group of men attacked you after you stepped in to protect him. He never ran so fast in his life. You weren’t in the alley where Alfie had last seen you when he arrived. He followed the trail of blood that led all the way back to your home. The same home where you saved his life and happily let him stay over from time to time.

When Alastor found you, you were curled up on the bathroom floor, silently staring at the wall, blood trickling from your nose and face slowly swelling like a balloon. You saw him standing in the doorway, his hair a mess and his chest rising and falling from his unwelcome and unfamiliar panic. You gave him a smile that hit him like a truck. For whatever reason, you had always been happy to see him. He still doesn’t understand why to this day, but the way you looked at him, the way you reached out for him and broke down like a scared child changed everything between you two that day.

So, of course, those men had to pay. They hurt you.

“Alastor?” You call. “Please? Please stay home tonight.”

“I have something I need to do, darling, or else I-“

“No!” Your voice cracked, hands trembling as you twisted your fingers into his shirt. “Stay home. Whatever it is you need to do tonight, just leave it for tomorrow.”

“Darling, I really can’t-“

“I am begging you,“ a tear slipped down your cheek as your body shook like a leaf. “Don’t leave me.”

Suddenly, the world around him changed. Instead of the beautiful home he shared with you, he was standing in the woods. You were gone, and at his feet was Franklin’s Galloway, his body picked for everything Alastor wanted to eat and nearly decomposed. A tree with twisted branches stood behind him, the moon high in the sky and the air muggy and hot.

He froze in place, confused how he got there. He was with you a few seconds ago. How did he get here? Alastor heard a loud bark before turning his head to the left to see a gun pointed right at him. Pain ripened through his body as he crumpled to the mossy ground. His head ached something fierce, a blinding pain he never knew existed radiating through his whole body.

It was quiet for a moment as Alastor blearily stared up at the sky. He was… dying.

Then, before he knew it, he was standing over his body, no longer human but as the radio demon. The hunters who shot him were nowhere to be seen. Instead, he saw you crying over his body, sobbing and wailing his name.

What is this?

“No! No! Why- why didn’t you listen?!” You buried your face in his chest. “I begged you! Begged you to stay. And now you’re leaving me all alone.”

His chest tightened, his heart that he thought dead and gone was hammering against his rib cage. Voice echoed through the bayou air, another gunshot ringing out and piercing you in the shoulder. Anger and fear coursed through him as your blood splattered on the floor. You cried out in pain, but you didn’t move. You stayed with him even when they shot another bullet through your stomach and when the angry mob of people broke through the trees and surrounded you.

“The wife of a sick murderer! She knew what he was doing all along! I bet she helped him!”

“Are you part of a cult?! Did you see that shed? All the bodies? That weird circle?!”

“My husband’s watch was in there! Did he kill him?!”

You didn’t reply, didn’t move. Not when they called you ugly names or threatened to kill you. They ripped you off him to your feet and dragged you back to the house, your body limp in their rough, brutal grasps. They shoved you to the ground, right in front of the sheriff’s feet. The same sheriff who had struck you when you saved him. He pointed a gun at your head, a twisted smile on his face as he cocked the handle back.

“Any last words, you monster?!”

Your gaze trailed up, and past the crowd until you met his. Alastor felt ice coat his veins, goosebumps rising on his flesh as his ears pressed tightly to his head. What’s happening? What is this memory? Why are you looking right at him as if he’s really here?

He can’t move, can’t look away, can’t breathe.

Your mouth moves, but he can’t hear your voice. All he hears is radio static. There was a turbulent storm in his chest, his scream in his throat as the sheriff pulls the trigger.

“Alastor!”

He shot up in bed, sweat covering his body as he tried to catch his breath. His gaze frantically searched the room before realizing the princess was standing by his side, gripping tightly onto his shoulders. A nightmare? He was having a nightmare?

That’s a first. Alastor never dreams.

“Are you okay?” She asks, her hair a mess and a robe poorly covering her body as she distances herself from him. “What kind of nasty nightmare were you having?”

“I-“ he pants, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t know. She was- I don’t know what that was.”

“She?”

“My-“ he stops, his mouth snapping closed as his smile thinned and his brows knitted together. “Why are you in here?”

She blinks.

“I assumed you needed help.” She tilts her head, confused. “Isn’t that why they came to me?” She points to the corner of his room where his shadows were huddled together, trembling. “They insisted I come. Barely waited for me to change. I thought maybe you were hurt.”

Damn shadows… why would they go to her of all people?

“Forgive me.” He huffs. “Sometimes they have a life of their own. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“I don’t mind.” She steps back. “I was up anyway.” Another step back, then another and another until her back was to the door. “Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?”

He thinks about it for a moment, his nerves still rattled as the nightmare replays in his mind. Of all the years Alastor has been in hell, he’s never once dreamed of you. It felt like a simple memory at first. Then it took a twist he wished he had never seen.

It felt so damn real.

That didn’t happen to you, did it? They didn’t punish you for his crimes after his death, did they? Did you not live and move on with your life as he had hoped?

“No. I… I’m fine. Thank you.” He answers after awhile. If he’s going to talk to anyone about this, it’d be Rosie, not her. “Get some rest, princess. No need to concern yourself with me.”

She doesn’t move, her attention on the vast bayou he had created for his room alone.

“I met the voodoo queen once. She’s the big reason I decided to stay in New Orleans.” She says softly. “Taught me everything I know about voodoo.” The princess smiles fondly at the memory. “She was the only human on Earth who ever knew who I really was. We were good friends until her death. One of the few human souls I ever respected.”

Alastor stared at her in awe and shock.

“Marie Laveau? You knew Marie Laveau? How?!” he gasps. “She’s a legend!”

“I’ve met a lot of interesting people in my lifetime, Mr. Hartfelt. While I did keep to myself a good chunk of that time, I would still cross pass with many souls.” She rests the pads of her fingers on the door frame, leaning her weight back until the wood creaks. “I have seven hundred years’ worth of stories to tell.” Her gaze flicks up to his. “Would you like to hear them?”

Alastor nodded excitedly as a genuine smile stretched across his face. He removed his covers, waved a hand to change into more appropriate clothing, and guided her to the fireplace where he had two cushioned chairs waiting with tea. He served her a cup, then himself, as they both got comfortable. Alastor had always been a sucker for a good story.

“So I’ll give you a choice.” She grins. “I can tell you all about my time with Marie Laveau, or I can tell you about my time sailing with pirates.”

“Pirates? You’ve sailed with pirates?!” Oh, this is exciting! Alastor can’t remember the last time he’d been so enthusiastic about someone else’s life before. “Would I be greedy to ask for both?” She giggles, Alastor smiles wider.

“Not at all.”

For the rest of the night, the princess told Alastor all about her time at sea with some of the world’s most notorious pirates. The fights, the mutinies, the treasure, and running from the government. She told him about how she was drunk off of rum for almost twenty years before the Golden Age of Piracy died. Her hut she had on the beaches of the Bahamas, sounded like paradise. Then there was the encounter with Blackbeard that had him cackling.

“With how scary he made himself out to be, I thought he could hold his liquor better.” She laughs. “He was down for the count three bottles in! His crew felt embarrassed to be associated with him for a few months after that.”

“Why?” He chuckles, she smirks.

“Cause he lost to a girl.”

They both erupt into a fit of laughter, their tea long forgotten and cold.

When she got to her time with the Queen of Voodoo, everything about her softened, relaxing more into the chair as she tucked her legs onto the seat. She painted the picture of early New Orleans for him so beautifully that he felt as if he were there with her.

“I was in desperate need of a haircut when I met her for the first time. I had been traveling alone for awhile so I kinda let my appearance go. Then, when I got to America, and I noticed how appalled everyone was when they looked at me, I figured I should do something about it.”

“Let me guess,“ he quirks a brow. “No shoes?”

“Why are you so hung up on the shoes?” She snorts.

“It’s a crime! Unsightly! Improper. A lady should always be dressed to impress!” He leans forward in his chair. “What’s the reason for that, anyway? I’ve only known one other person in my life who's had such a distaste for shoes like you do, and I’ve never understood why.”

“I just don’t.” She shrugs.

“I just don’t isn’t going to cut it, my dear. I’d like an honest answer.”

“An honest answer, huh?” She glances up at the ceiling. “Okay, well, let me think.”

“You don’t even know why?!”

“I’ve never thought about it before!” She huffs, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Okay… okay, so they kinda feel like tiny prisons on my feet. They’re hot and uncomfortable and confining and restrictive! I hate it.”

Alastor stares back at her in a stunned silence. He leans back in his chair, his leg crossing over the other as he slowly nods.

“Fair enough.” He hums. “I suppose I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“Satisfied?”

“Satisfied.” He rolls his wrist in her direction. “Please continue.”

And she did. She shared her story with the voodoo queen from the moment they met until the day she died. He sat there listening, immersed in the moment and hanging on every single word. The princess was a gifted storyteller. He can’t help but feel honored that she wanted to share this time of her life with him.

When she was done, they both sat in comfortable silence. The early commotion of the breakfast rush echoed from below them. Alastor quickly checked his watch and found that it was already eight in the morning.

“We’ve been talking all night.” She yawns, her eyes glossy. “I should head back to my room.”

“Yes, I suppose I should head down to help.” He doesn’t want to. He’d much rather continue talking to her. “Thank you for tonight. It was delightful.”

“My pleasure.” She gives him a playful bow, he lets out a breathy laugh. “Goodnight- uh, I guess good morning actually.” She heads for the door, her hand on the knob, when she glances back at him over her shoulder. “Call on me again if those pesky nightmares continue. I can tell you about the time during the Regency era and how I positively hated it.”

Nightmare or not, Alastor plans to pick the princesses brain for more stories. He can’t remember the last time he spent the entire night conversing with another person.

For the first time since he’s been in hell, he finally had someone he couldn’t wait to talk to again.

Someone for the first time since you.

Chapter Text

“Have you ever heard of the red string theory?” The princess asks randomly. She and Alastor were sitting alone comfortably in the library. A thick red book rested on her lap while Alastor sipped his coffee. He had found her curled up here alone and asked if he could join her. She happily agreed, so he conjured up some coffee for her as well while she returned to her book. He didn’t mind the silence. In fact, he enjoyed being in her company, which was unusual for him considering he doesn’t particularly like being near anyone.

“I can’t say that I have.” He replies.

“It’s really interesting.” She says. “The belief originated from both Chinese and Japanese mythology. They believed that there was an invisible red cord that connected people to whom they were destined to meet, love, or even influence. No matter the time or place or the situation, it’s a bond that will never break.”

Alastor rests his cheek in his palm as he gives her a lazy smile.

“Quite romantic. I’m sure all the hopeless bleeding hearts out in the world must love that.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve never believed in fate myself. Personally, I lean more toward free will and personal agency.”

“You don’t believe in fate?” She quirks a brow.

“I believe I make my own path, my dear. Not some cosmic idea.” He chuckles.

The princess blinks at him for a moment, nodding slowly as his words sink in.

“Right.” She softly shuts her book and stands. “I’m going to go out for a bit. Can you let Charlie know I’ll be back later?”

“You’re leaving?” He joins her with a look of surprise.

“I am,” She replies, short and clipped. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Heartfelt.”

“I don’t understand. Did I say something to offend you?” He fixes his suit, his brows pinched. Why is she suddenly in such a rush to leave? They were having such a delightful time.

“No.” She heads out of the library, a fake smile on her lips as she walks into the lobby where her father and sister are sitting at the bar. “I’m fine.”

“Well, clearly not.” Alastor huffs, following right on her heels. “I’ve upset you.”

“Not at all.” She picks up her pace. “Now, like I said, have a good-“

Alastor uses his shadow to get in front of her and blocks her from the door. He was ready to question her more, but before he could, she snapped her fingers and she was gone with a single blink of his eye. Alastor stood in the middle of the room, his head reeling. What just happened?

“Is she okay?” Charlie asks from where she’s sitting.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “We were talking just fine, and then she decided to leave.”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Fate.” From the corner of his eye, Alastor could see Lucifer stiffen in his seat. “I said I didn’t believe in such a thing and she-“

“You said that?!” Lucifer cackles as he slaps his hand on the bar. “To her face?! Oh, Bambi, you idiot!” Lucifer hunches over, tears in his eyes the harder he laughs. “I was hoping you’d say something to screw yourself over. You’ve been spending a little too much time with my daughter, and I’m finally glad that’ll be stopping.”

“What are you talking about?” Alastor growls, his filtered voice bleeding with static. He doesn’t appreciate being the center of someone’s joke or being laughed at by the most laughable person in the room. Lucifer jumps to his feet, fixes his hat and wipes away a stray tear as his cackles fade into a fit of giggles.

“Fate is very real, Mr. Useless.” Lucifer mocks. “You’d be smart to remember that. Fate doesn’t like being mocked.”

Just like his daughter, the King of Hell opens a golden portal out of the room, leaving Alastor and Charlie alone.

“I don’t think she will stop talking to you.” Charlie sighs. “She probably needs a little time to herself.” She gives him a shy smile. “I don’t completely know the details, but from what my dad has told me, it’s kind of why my sister was gone for so long. She pissed Fate off.”

Now that Charlie mentions it, he remembers the private conversation Lucifer had with Satan the day she arrived.

Let’s not act like we don’t know what a stuck-up cunt Fate can be…

He didn’t think much of it at the time, but now? Alastor is beginning to realize he doesn’t know anything at all.

“I met him once.” Charlie adds. “He was kind of stuck-up.”

“What?”

“Fate? He was at one of my birthdays. Gifted me this weird harp with golden strings.”

“Fate is an actual soul?” Now, this is something Alastor never considered.

“Yeah. He lives in the realm between heaven and earth with Destiny and Karma.” She glanced at the door where her sister was only moments before. “They don’t bother anyone and usually let things take the course they’re supposed to. My father always said that their magic power is almost up to par with an archangel.” A sadden expression etches onto her features, her hands wrapping around her body to comfort herself. “My sister is hiding so much pain from everyone, Alastor. She acts like she’s fine, but really… really I can tell she’s hurting. Between the nightmares and-“

“She’s having nightmares?” He didn’t know. Was that why she offered to stay up with him if he had another? Because hers were keeping her up as well?

“Awful nightmares. The kind that has you crying in your sleep, begging to be woken up from. Whatever happened to her up on Earth… I don’t think she’s able to forget it.” She meets Alastor’s gaze. “The only time I see her genuinely happy is when she’s with you.” Charlie lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you for being so kind to her. I can tell she loves being your friend.”

Friend? Is that what they were? He does enjoy her company and looks forward to seeing her. She’s the most interesting person he’s met in hell in a long time. He respects the power she has and can’t wait to learn new things about her and her life on Earth. Alastor does go out this way to help whenever she’s involved. Does that count as friendship? It must be if the princess of friendship and rainbows says so. Rosie is his friend, in a way, so the feelings he has toward her have to be the same.

And yet it doesn’t feel like mere friendship at all.

“Charlie?” Alastor shifts his weight from foot to foot, an uncomfortable tightness coiling in his chest as he swallows down the lump in his throat. “Has your sister ever mentioned a lover to you?”

“A lover?” She tilts her head. “Like a boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Um no. I don’t think so. She doesn’t like talking about her time on Earth with me. We mostly ever talk about things here in hell.” She watches him curiously. “Why?”

Yes, why? Why does he want to know?

“She mentioned one at her party last week.” Had it really been a week since the welcome party? Time seems to be flying by so fast when he’s with the princess. “I was simply curious, that's all.”

“Right,” Charlie hums. “Anyway, I should get ready for group therapy. Don’t worry too much about my sister. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

When she leaves, Alastor goes about his day as if nothing has happened. He assisted guests, served them, and repaired broken items or those requiring routine inspection. Once dinner came around and the princess still hadn’t returned, Alastor told Vaggi that he wanted to cook up one of his childhood favorites for the guests. A traditional Creole bouillabaisse that he would beg for every holiday. It would be a nice little distraction from this odd tightening in his chest that will NOT go away.

The guests loved it.

He set a bowl aside for her, along with an extra serving and fresh French bread he baked from scratch.

The kitchen was cleaned, the guests were retiring to their rooms, and the princess still hadn’t returned. Alastor checked his watch to see it was around ten in the evening. The odd feeling in his chest was getting worse, his foot tapping anxiously on the floor as he decides to bake. Bread pudding… The princess should like that for when she returns. Dinner and dessert.

Alastor had just popped the bread pudding into the oven when the kitchen doors swung open.

“Mr. Heartfelt?” He spins around to see the princess standing behind him with a velvet gift box in her hands. “You’re still awake?”

“I’m not feeling too well.” He admits. Alastor didn’t know what was ailing him, but what he did know was that this unpleasant tightening in his chest does not feel good. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” She glides her gaze down to the box. “I would like to apologize for earlier.” Her fingers traced along the edge of the box. “I’m sorry for being short with you and leaving so abruptly. It was rude and uncalled for.” She quickly hands it to him. “For you.”

Another gift? And for something she really doesn’t have to apologize for. He gingerly takes the gift from her, the smooth velvet pleasing to the touch as he lifts off the lid. His brows rise, his smile softening. Inside was a bottle of Old Overholt Pure Rye. A flask-shaped amber bottle with the official medical name printed on the back. The label on the front had a picture of the owner with vintage typography on a cream-colored background and decorative border.

It’s one of his favorites…

“How did you find this?” He whispered, shocked at how thoughtful the gift was. “I haven’t seen one of these since I was alive.”

“I had to go down to the gluttony ring to find it.” She shrugs. “Bee let me have it after I spent the better half of the day helping her plan her next party. I was hoping to be home sooner, but she was insistent on me picking out her outfit.” He can’t stop staring at the bottle. First the book, and now this? Every gift she has given him had been unbelievably thoughtful. How is he supposed to repay this? “Anyway, I hope you can forgive me. If that isn’t enough, I can try to find something else.”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” He blurts without thinking. “Tomorrow night? Away from the hotel. I know a lovely spot that plays the best jazz, and the food is positively delectable.” With the stunned expression on her face, Alastor can tell she also can’t figure out why he would ask such a thing. It was the first thing that came to mind. With how long it was taking her to answer, he was starting to regret it.

“Okay.” She shyly averts her attention to the floor. “I’d like that.”

His dead little heart nearly jumps out of his chest. He could see his shadows performing a victory dance out of her line of sight while Alastor beams down at her with his best smile.

“Lovely,” He chirps as he goes to the fridge to grab her plate of leftovers. “Now eat up. Can’t have you going to bed hungry, can I?” He waves a hand to warm her food quickly and pushes it to her while also pulling up a chair for her to sit. “I’m almost finished with the bread pudding to so you have something for dessert.”

“Bouillabaisse? You usually cook this for the holidays.” She dips the bread into the sauce, her eyes fluttering closed the second the food hits her tongue. “Delicious as always.” He preens at her praise as he sends his new gift up to his room. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, my dear.”

Alastor had been so distracted with his baking and the dinner for tomorrow that he didn’t think to question how she knew that he only cooked that dish for the holidays.

Chapter Text

“Alastor?” Vaggi calls out, her arms crossed and a playful smirk on her face. “You’re in a good mood.”

“What makes you say that, dear vagine?” He hums as he polishes his monocle one more time in the lobby mirror.

“Oh, I don’t knowww.” She drawls, chuckling. “How about the fact that you’re dressed in the nicest suit I’ve ever seen you wear, you’re wearing a different cologne, you’ve been humming that obnoxious song all day, and you’ve been uncharacteristically nice to the guests.”

“I’m afraid I dont know what you mean?” He deflects as he straightens his bow tie.

“Uh huh. And what about those?” She points to his hands. “What’s with the comically gigantic bouquet of roses?”

“They’re a gift.” His smile grows. “Pretty, aren’t they? Picked each one out myself.”

“They are.” She nods. “Who are they for?”

“The princess, of course.” Alastor spins on his heel and strides over to Vaggi. “And I bought her this.” He fishes out a red leather journal with silk lining and her name embroidered on the front from his inner coat pocket. Alastor spent hours at the shops this morning trying to pick out the perfect gift for her. It was the least he could do after what she had given him last night. “What do you think?”

Vaggi stared at him with a wide eye, her lips parted in shock.

“For Charlie’s sister? You’re doing all this for Charlie’s sister?” she asks.

“Yes. We’ve become good friends recently, and I wanted to do something nice for her.” He spent all night trying to put a finger on his relationship with the princess. After much consideration, he concluded that Charlie was right. They were friends, and he’s rather pleased with the idea. He doesn’t have many of them. To add her to his small circle felt like a good choice. “So? Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Uhhh- I mean- yes? It’s… nice?” She shifts her weight from foot to foot. “So, you two are friends?”

“We are!” Alastor tucks the journal back into his jacket. “We’re going to dinner tonight at-“

“You’re taking her to dinner?”

“Yes, we-“

“Just the two of you? Alone? Tonight?”

“Yes…” he narrows his eyes. What is she trying to get at? “We’re going to one of my favorite restaurants.”

“I- okay Alastor, you know what a date is, right?”

“Of course.” He scoffs. “I’ve been on plenty.”

“You have?!” Husker sputters from the bar, spitting out his drink all over a guest.

“Yes,” He replied through gritted teeth, annoyed and a little offended. Alastor may not look it now, but when he was alive, he was known to be quite the charmer. A gentleman and chivalrous fellow who won the hearts of many. Even you. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this sounds like a date.” Vaggi says. “I mean the flowers, the gift, how nicely you’re dressed. Don’t you think that maybe she might think-“

“I might think what?” The princess says as she steps into the lobby. She’s wearing a vintage cocktail dress and the shoes he gifted her the night of her party. He’s never been more thankful to see someone wearing shoes in his entire life. She styled her hair to complement the outfit, and she applied natural makeup with just a pop of color on her lips. Alastor feels like a deer in headlights as she approaches, unable to take his gaze off her. “See? I know how to dress to impress.”

“You look…” he doesn’t know what to say. Words can’t describe how she looks tonight. “Lovely.” His shadows appeared at her feet, the little wispy monsters applauding and dancing to get her attention.

“I see your little friends agree.” She giggles as she leans down to scratch behind the ears of the one who resembled a more cutesy form of himself. Not too sure where he came from cause Alastor sure as hell didn’t conjure him up willingly. With a growl, he forced them all back to him. Her gaze glides up to the flowers in his arms. “Are those for me?”

He blinks.

“Y-yes.” He hands them over, and she happily accepts. “I also have this.” Alastor grabs the journal from his inner jacket pocket again and holds it out to her. “For your stories.”

“Thank you.” Her fingers ghost over her embroidered name, a warm smile on her face as she accepted the journal and the flowers. “Let me take these up to my room and then we can go.”

“Ah, let me.” With a wave of his hand, he sets the journal on the nightstand by your bed and the flowers on your vanity in fresh water and a crystal vase. “Shall we?” He holds his arm out to you. You nod and hook your arm in his. Alastor guides you out of the hotel, ignoring everyone who was gawking at the two of you. “I swear you’d think those fools had never been to dinner with a friend before.”

She’s quiet at first, her attention focused on the ground. Her fingers tightened around his bicep as she finally glanced up at him.

“Friends, huh?” She grins. “I feel like I should be honored that the fearsome radio demon considers me a friend.” He felt a shudder run down his spine, overly delighted to hear her call him by his title he worked so hard to get. It was the first time she called him that. He can’t help but wonder who had told her about it to begin with.

“It wasn’t a decision I came to lightly.” He jokes, she giggles. “You should feel honored, really.”

“Should I?”

“Yes, my dear. It’s very rare I let anyone close to me, let alone trust. For me to consider you a friend is an impressive feat. Friendship is not something I throw around lightly.”

“Well, consider me honored.” She leans into him more, and Alastor finds that he doesn’t mind it one bit. “Where are you taking me, by the way?”

“The Midnight Hour. You’ll love it. I reserved a private dining room with a view.”

It was only a twenty minute walk from the hotel to the restaurant. He took the time to point out all his favorite places and where she could find the best deals and food. Anytime he saw a certain spot where he had won a fight or brutally put a sinner in their place, he told her about it. She listened intently, asking question after question that he was more than happy to show off.

“And here is where I outsmarted a self-absorbed TV head.”

“A TV head?”

“Yes. I tricked him into a deal that broke me from my chains to another. It was a rather impressive play on my part, if I do say so myself. The whole plan came to me in less than a minute.”

“That is impressive.” He left out the part where he was captive and held prisoner for an annoying bit of time. While it may have been all part of the plan, it doesn’t make it less humiliating. “I wish I could have been here to see it.”

It was probably better that she hadn’t. If she had been here, Alastor had this feeling that anyone who had been involved in the slandering of her sister, or the kidnapping of her father, or the declaration of holy war would be dead.

When they arrived at the restaurant, there was a line wrapped around the corner. Thankfully, since he booked a reservation and knew the owner, Alastor was escorted in immediately. Smooth jazz and the quiet chatter of patrons filled the air. The lights were low, deep navy blue colors painted the walls, luxurious velvet seats, and the smell of delicious food surrounded them. The restaurant kept its private room tucked away from the rest of the dining area, where chilled champagne awaited them. Their view Alastor had promised was of the frozen lake where there were currently people ice skating over the damned sinners that lived underneath.

“Wow,” She whistles. “This is amazing.”

Alastor holds her seat out for her and pushes her in before sitting himself. The server offers them the specials for the night, his name, and gives them time to look at the menu. Alastor already knows what he wants. He had an order arranged just for him. A roast shipped in from cannibal town with a special blood wine that he requested from Rosie. He made sure to have something that still looked appealing and could easily be fooled into believing it’s a normal cut of meat.

She’s looking at the menu, commenting on everything that sounded good to her when the server returned. After her order was taken, she quirked a brow at him.

“Not eating?” She asks.

“I ordered my meal ahead of time.” He admits.

“Oh? Someone special?”

“Pardon?”

“Who will you be eating?” He’s taken aback by how casually she asks. Usually, people are disgusted by his unique palate.

“You’re not disgusted?”

“Why would I be?”

“Most are.”

“I’m not most souls.” She shrugs. “I don’t mind what your diet is, Mr. Hartfelt. Eat what you like.”

Just when he thought the princess couldn’t be more interesting…

“How much have you heard about me?” He leans closer to her in his chair.

“Not much. I know you’re an overlord and you're known as the Radio Demon. You disappeared for seven years for some reason. Before you disappeared, you’d broadcast your victims’ screams for all of hell to hear. You rose to power fairly quickly when you first arrived. Oh, and you’re a cannibal. It’s why you and Rosie are close, isn’t it?”

“That’s one reason.” He says. Alastor will never admit to anyone why he and Rosie are really close. He’ll never tell anyone about his deal as long as he lives. “Who told you all of this?”

“Charlie.” Of course she did. “She’s fond of you. My sister loves having you around the hotel. Even considers you to be family.” As sweet as that is, he doesn’t really care one way or the other about that. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for my sister, Mr. Hartfelt. It means a lot to me how much you’ve helped my sister.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He hums.

“I am curious to know why you and my father can’t seem to get along.” His smile thins. “What did he do to you?”

“I have plenty of reasons.” He replies. “Let’s just say your father could have been better towards Charlie in a parental aspect. It rubs me the wrong way, I suppose.” Alastor would have mentioned his disdain for the king’s pride and power, but after finding out he was essentially a prisoner himself, Alastor lost all interest in him. “Mostly he’s just annoying.”

“He can be a lot, I’ll admit that, but he has a big heart. It’s probably where my sister got it from.”

“Are you saying you don’t have a heart?”

“I’m saying it’s not as big as theirs.” She chuckles. “I used to be like Charlie. Happy and optimistic about everything. My father was like that too.” She frowns down at her glass. “I hope she stays like that.”

“She seems to have a good head on her shoulders despite everything. I’ve never seen your sister stay down for long. She always manages to inspire. That determined inspiration, I suspect, comes from your mother.”

Her eyes went hard, an icy rage filled her gaze that had Alastor stiffening.

“Do me a favor, Mr. Hartfelt.” She swallows, her jaw flexing as she forces a smile. “Never speak to me about my mother again.”

Chapter Text

“Let me paint the scene for you.” The princess giggles, her face flushed and eyes hooded. She and Alastor had been pouring drink after drink for the last couple of hours, and it was finally catching up with them. “The year is 1965 in good ole New York. I was staying at some dingy motel for the night, just passing through, when these mobsters kicked down my door!”

“Mobsters?!” Alastor gasped. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything! There I was, minding my own business, when this mob boss waltzed into my room looking for his money. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, and well, he didn’t like that answer. He held up three fingers and said in this really thick New York accent that, I had three chances to tell him the truth or else things were gonna get ugly. Do you know what I did?” She leans closer, so does he. “I told him the truth. Thrice! Three times I said I didn’t have it, and do you think he believed me?”

“No?”

“No!” She sighs. “So I did what any sensible girl would do. I popped them like blisters with just a snap of my fingers.” She shook her head. “Those poor maids. I heard it took them months to clean that entire room.”

“How fascinating!” Alastor laughed. “I swear you’ve led such an interesting life.”

“If you’ve lived as long as I have, then it would be hard not to.” She shrugs. “When I came to Earth, the year was 1326. I ended up in Europe. That was my first time seeing living humans. For most of my life, I dealt with sinners and angels, demons, Fate and his asshole brothers. All I knew was painful heat, the horrid stench of sulfur, and so much red. Going to Earth, seeing how different and alive everything was… I didn’t want to leave.” She rests her cheek in her hand, her gaze focused on her empty glass. “I knew I couldn’t go back home anyway, so I figured, why not stay. I used a cloaking spell to hide myself from heaven and the realm. It was liberating and free, and I didn’t have all my responsibilities resting on my shoulders anymore. I was happy.”

An uneasiness settles in his gut as a thought comes to mind.

“Do you plan to go back?”

She flicks her eyes up to his and shakes her head.

“Not anytime soon. I’d like to spend some time with my family and my new friend for a while.” Alastor doesn’t understand why he felt a rush of relief wash over him when she says she’ll be staying. Perhaps it’s because he has been enjoying her company so much that it would be disappointing to lose such an interesting friend. “Now let me tell you about how I got into a gunfight with a bunch of cowboys. Once again, I was minding my own business.”

For hours she told wild tales of her time on earth and he told her of his time in hell. He took advantage of the private space he had reserved and taught her a few dance moves he had told her about the night of her party. She stepped on his feet quite a bit, constantly apologizing for being so clumsy. When he felt she picked up the gist of it, he dragged her to the dance floor, where he requested a more upbeat song for the band to play.

They danced, drank, ate more food, and danced some more until closing. By the time they left, they could barely walk, laughing and hanging off each other as they slowly headed back to the hotel. Alastor can’t remember the last time he’s had this much fun. He’s had fun in his own way while he’s been in hell, but being with her reminds him of his time when he was alive. Unadulterated fun.

Like when he was with you…

By the time they made it back to the hotel, everyone was still dead asleep, not a single soul in sight as they sat at the bar for one last drink.

“What’s your poison?” Alastor asks with a cheeky smile.

“Surprise me.” She replies as she kicks off her shoes. “Also, I hope you know that will be the last time for a while that I’ll be wearing those things.”

“Are you sure? What if I wanted to do this again next week?”

“Oh? Are you planning on making this a weekly occurrence?” She grins, drumming her fingers on the freshly polished bar.

“I’d say we had a hell of a night together, wouldn’t you agree? Why limit it to tonight?”

“That is a good point.” She tilts her head from side to side, swaying in her seat. “Alright, let’s do it! Tonight was the first time in years I had some real fun.”

“Did you not have fun at your welcome party last week?” He quirks a brow.

“I was miserable, and you know it.” She snorts, he laughs. “Tonight is the kind of fun I remember having on Earth. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Good,” He hums as he pours her a drink. “I know just the place for us to go. A casino that my dear friend Husker used to own had the best speakeasy hidden away in a poker room.”

She sips at the drink he fixed her, her brows rising as she takes another sip.

“That is delicious.” She stares down into her glass, her eyes glossy. “I have a request before we end the night.”

“What might that be?” The princess was silent for a moment, her knee bouncing nervously as she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“Can you play the piano?” Her voice cracks.

“I can.” Alastor conjures up a piano next to the bar and takes a seat. “Any requests?”

“It Had To Be You.” She answers with a sad smile. His fingers froze over the keys, his ears twitching at her request.

“Why that song?”

“It’s pretty.” She coos. “Can you play it?”

Oh, he can. He used to play it all the time for you. You loved that song. How many times had you begged him to play for you before bed? How many times did you fall asleep to the melody? Of all the songs in the world, why did the princess request the one that reminded him of you the most?

He forced down the memories and slowly played the song for her. It came to him so easily. Like he had played it this morning. The princess continued to sip at her drink, a soft smile on her face and a lost look in her eyes. He could hear her humming along, occasionally mumbling the lyrics as her eyelids fluttered closed.

Alastor played the last note of the song, the room falling into silence. He glances over at the princess and is surprised to see that she’s fast asleep, resting her head on the cool wood. Her glass was empty, her cheeks stained with tears. Crying? Why was she crying? She seemed to be having such a good time. Did he read the night wrong?

Instead of wasting time thinking about it, Alastor decides he should probably get her up to bed. He hooks his arms under her legs, lifts her into his arms and hugs her tight to his chest. With the magic of his shadows, he teleports her into her room, careful not to wake her father, who was currently buried under a pile of odd little ducks. He knows this isn’t proper for a man to be in a woman’s room while she sleeps, but he couldn’t just leave her sleeping on the bar. Alastor tucks her into bed, conjures up a glass of water and some medication for the headache he’s positive she’ll be having when she wakes up.

When Alastor returned to his room, he serves himself one last glass of whiskey before bed. He thinks about his night with the princess. Even though he’s been learning more and more about her with every passing day, there’s still so many questions that remain. Why did she leave? What could she have done to have to be gone from her home so long? Why did she nearly rip his throat out when he mentioned her mother? That took him off guard the most. If he thinks back, she never once asked about Lilith when she woke up or during her time here.

What’s the story there?

Then there’s what Charlie said yesterday about the princesses’ nightmares. So far, all the stories she’s told about her time on Earth have been pleasant, adventurous. Could that really be the subject of her nightmares?

Alastor gulps down the last of his whiskey and calls it a night. He still has responsibilities to tend to in the morning. Not to mention the overlord meeting at noon. Maybe after the meeting he can have a chat with Rosie about how he’s been feeling lately and update her on his new friendship with the princess.

The second Alastor’s head hit the pillow he was out like a light.

“Al?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Could you play for me tonight?”

“Again?”

“Yeah. You know I love it when you play the piano.”

“I suppose I could oblige.” He grins. “The usual?”

“My favorite.”

“Our favorite.” He corrects as he watches you curl up on the sofa with a blanket draped over your legs. Alastor loved nights like this. You and he would finish dinner, clean up together and then spend the rest of the evening relaxing in the living room talking about each others day. You rarely left the house, so your day was usually the same. He’d tell you about the radio station and how long it took him to prep for his broadcast. There was the usual work gossip he knows you loved to hear and the occasional scandal around town that always made your day. Alastor wished you’d join him in town more, but what happened to you last time, he understands why you don’t. “Comfy?”

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he played the first notes of their song.

Their nights always ended the same. Alastor would play for you, you’d fall asleep on the couch with a sleepy smile, and he’d carry you up to bed. Then, after ensuring you were safely tucked in, he would go out to hunt. This part of his life he kept secret. With how sweet you are, he knew you’d never understand. Alastor knew that even though you said you’d accept him no matter what, he can’t imagine being a cannibalistic serial killer would be one of them. He couldn’t risk you finding out. After all this time, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to his evil little hobby. That’s why he waits for you to be asleep before going out to have his fun.

Every night was the same.

So when Alastor finished playing, he expected you to be asleep.

Instead, you were wide awake, tears streaking down your cheeks and eyes puffy.

“We could’ve lived like this for years.” Your voice trembles and cracks, your jaw wobbling. “Just you and me.”

“What is this?” Alastor gasps, panic settling in his gut as his back slams into the keys of the piano.

“I don’t understand, Al.” You stand, your blanket falling to your feet. He watches you move behind the couch, your hand gliding along the soft suede. “I begged you to stay. Why Al? Why didn’t you stay?”

Thick, hot blood pooled at his feet, pouring down the walls and painting the room a hellish red. He jerked up, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to rush over to you. Except he couldn’t. He was frozen in place, horrified at the scene playing out in front of him. You turned for the door, your back facing him as you walked further and further away.

“Wait!” He begs as fear consumes him. “Don’t leave me here! Don’t go without me! Please- Please- darling, please don’t leave me!”

Alastor shoots up in bed, sweat clinging to his body as he tries to catch his breath. He’s back in the hotel, his room a mess and the magic pocket of the bayou nowhere to be seen. Claw marks are carved in the walls, the mirrors and windows shattered. In the corner of his room, his shadows huddled together, trembling in each other’s wispy arms.

Another nightmare. This one is worse than the last. And it was about you again.

What is going on with him?

Chapter Text

Something clatters to the ground, his head snapping in the direction it came from. He could see movement coming from his bathroom, a shadow that didn’t belong to him moving from under the crack of the door. Alastor waves a hand to force the door open to see the princess standing at his sink, a first aid kit tossed on the floor and her blood dripping onto the floor. A shaky hand was gripping her arm, deep clawed gashes staring back at him.

She meets his frazzled gaze, his heart in his throat as she kindly smiles at him.

“And I thought I had shitty nightmares.” She laughed, wincing in pain as she clutched her arm tighter. “Your little shadows woke me up from mine before I came up here.” Blood seeped between her fingers, ignoring the pain he knew she felt, so she could calm him down. “You wouldn’t wake up no matter what I did. Whatever it was you were dreaming had you losing control of your power.”

He wasn’t listening. Couldn’t listen. All he could focus on was her arm, her fresh wound caused by him. In his entire existence, Alastor has hurt and killed so many people that he’d lost count. Racist, disrespectful, abusive men on Earth. Pathetic overlords and sinners in hell. So many souls under his belt that he’d happily kill and devour without hesitation or remorse.

Yet as he stared at fresh blood dripping onto his floor or the deep, meaty gashes that exposed muscle and bone, he didn’t feel pleasure or hunger like he usually did. No, he felt sick to his stomach. The princess was kind to him. She was only trying to help. Sure, Alastor loathed being helped or lent assistance in any shape or form, but he found himself not minding as much when it was from her. She was his friend. A real friend, he felt comfortable with. A friend who didn’t expect anything from him.

And he’d hurt her.

“Your power is interesting.” Her breathing is ragged as sweat beads on her forehead. “Shadow magic, right? Powerful. Very annoying to heal from.” She huffs, her composure slipping. “Are you-“ her brows stitch together, wincing again, her jaw clenching. “Okay?”

No… no, he’s pretty far from okay.

With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a chair and the first-aid kit to his side. He ordered his shadow to bring her to him, the little monsters bleating happily as they tugged on the bottom of her nightgown. She moved with them until she was sitting down in the chair, giggling when the cutesy shadow version of him gave her a bow before disappearing.

The princess watched him curiously as Alastor held his hand over her wound. He extracted the shadows from the deep gashes, the room lighting up in a bright green hue. It was a tiny form of voodoo in his magic. With his shadows, he learned a technique that let his victims stay wounded after being touched by his power. It was useful in battle and when he wanted to hunt poor sinners who so much as looked at him the wrong way. They couldn’t heal to get away or to fight back. It was perfect, convenient.

Once the magic was gone, Alastor didn’t care if she could heal herself on her own now. He wanted to be the one to patch her up. It was his fault after all. This was his way of fixing the damage he had caused. If his insistence on helping her bothered her, she didn’t show it. She let him fish a needle out of the first-aid kit along with some antiseptic, wire, and gauze. He didn’t have anything to numb the pain, so he conjured up some of the whiskey she had gifted him. The burn from the whiskey should distract her.

He hoped. It usually did for him.

Alastor worked on her arm in silence. Her gaze stayed on him, never once tearing her eyes away from his clawed hand or questioning why he didn’t use magic to stitch her up faster. She just… watched. Not a single question, not a single story to fill the silence. There was a far-off look in her eyes as he worked. Her gaze followed his every move, never once tearing itself away. It was like she was committing him to memory. Why? He had no clue.

It wasn’t until he had finished wrapping up her arm that she finally spoke.

“Do you have nightmares like that often?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Alastor didn’t want to talk to her about you or what was going on in his head. He just wanted to forget about the whole thing and try to busy himself with something else. He stayed quiet, and she accepted his silence as an answer. “Right, well… feel better, Mr. Hartfelt.” She raises her arm and ghosts her fingers over the fresh gauze. “Thank you and goodnight.”

Alastor stared at her blood on the floor, his guilt and embarrassment rolling off of him in waves as she opened the door and softly closed it behind her. He didn’t apologize even though he knew he should have. All he could do was glare down at his hands, which were trembling at the smell of metallic tang in the air. A smell he usually loved. Now it’s making his stomach turn and his mouth taste like ash.

What is going on with him? Why is he having these reactions whenever the princess is involved? It’s unlike him. And why does he keep dreaming of you? Is it going to be like this every night? If so, then he obviously won’t allow himself to sleep anymore. Not if his precious memories of you turn into those horrid nightmares.

One of his shadows jumps around in the corner of his room to get his attention. When he looks, the cutesy one is pointing up to the ceiling with a scowl.

“What?” Alastor growls, annoyed. “What do you want?” The little shadow juts its hip out, pointing again to the ceiling with a knowing look. Alastor groans, his ears pressed tight to his head. “She’s fine.” He swears the damn thing huffs. “I fixed her arm! She’ll be healed by morning.” A bleat, this one high-pitched and agitated, rolled from the wispy little creature's throat. “Oh, for the love of-“ He throws his blankets off him, throws on some proper clothes and smooths back his hair. “Fine!”

Alastor slips into the shadows, slithering his way up to the princesses’ room without a second thought.

“Where did you go?” Lucifer’s voice stopped him in his tracks. Alastor kept his shadowed body hidden in the corner of her room. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. Lucifer was leaning against the doorframe, a tiny duck clutched to his chest and wearing an oversized pink sweater with white sweats.

“To Alastor’s room.” She answered honestly. That surprised him. Alastor didn’t think she’d tell the truth considering he and her father don’t get along. “He needed my help.”

“The bellhop needed help?” Lucifer scoffed. “With what?” She opened her mouth to answer, but he held a hand up to stop her. “Actually, don’t tell me.”

“It’s not what you're thinking.” She chuckles, finally lifting her head to look at him. “He just wasn’t feeling too hot from all the drinking we did. I was being a good friend.”

“Friends? With the cannibal? You can’t be serious.”

“He’s fun.” She smiles. “If you gave me a chance, you’d see he’s not so bad.”

Him? Alastor? No one in their right mind has ever said that about him.

“I think you might still be drunk.” Her father jokes. “He’s the worst.”

“He’s really not.” She sighs. “I wish you’d stop being so rude to him. I don’t like it.” Lucifer gapes at her, his eyes comically wide. “You two should try to get along. If not for me, then for Charlie. You’re both important to her.” She drags herself fully into her bed, crossing her legs as she picks at a loose thread on her nightgown. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“I’m not worried about me, sweetheart. I’m worried about you.” He walked over to her bed and sits, his arm wrapping around her in a warm hug. “You haven’t been sleeping, and when you do, well, it’s not pretty. Do you want to talk about it?”

She’s silent for a long while, leaning more and more into her father’s touch.

“Dad?” She whispers, he hums in reply. “When heaven comes for me, I need you to promise that Charlie will not come to the trial.” Lucifer blinks, his brows furrowed as he looks at her. “The seers will show the heavenly court everything that happened to prove their case. I need you to promise that she will not be there to see it. If she does, then… then Dad, she may never forgive the sinners she wants to help.”

“Sweetheart, what happened up there?” He tilts her head up to look at him. “Talk to me. I’ll listen.”

Alastor is eavesdropping again, but he doesn’t care. He has to know what she’s hiding.

The princess takes a shaky breath, her eyes screwing shut as tears coated her lashes.

“Daddy, I was so scared.” Her voice cracked. “Eighty years… I spent eighty years locked in that room.” Alastor felt frozen in place. She seems so small now, like a scared girl crying to her father about the monsters under her bed. This is a version of the princess he never thought he’d see. “Those- those MONSTERS kept me a prisoner for eighty years. They thought they were doing God's work.” Lucifer stiffened at the name, her hand gripping his daughter tighter. “They starved, tortured, dismembered me all in the name of God. The things they did, Dad… I can still feel it. A pain so deep I will never forget it.”

A light glowed in the palm of her hand. She gingerly rested it over his, just like how she had done to Azazel the night of her party. Lucifer let out a choked sob before he jerked away from her. His chest was heaving, his lips parted in shock. Alastor thought he’d return to her, wrap his daughter in his arms and tell her it was going to be okay.

Instead, Lucifer does something that reminds him why Alastor hates him so much in the first place.

He inches himself to the door, his gaze on the ground, an uncomfortable chuckle pushing past his lips.

“Dad?” She sniffled.

“I… I don’t think I’m the best person for this, honey.” He pivots, his back to her now. “Your sister is better at this kind of stuff. Let me- I’ll go get her.”

“Charlie? No, no, I told you she can’t-“

But Lucifer was gone. She was alone in her room again, frozen in place, staring at where her father had just been. Alastor felt pity for her in that moment. She had thought her father would listen to her, help her and make her feel better, like he should’ve.

“Right… just like last time.” She croaks, swallowing thickly as she stands. “Stupid. So stupid.” She walks to her balcony, her hand on her freshly bandaged arm. He should say something now. Pop out and help her feel better, like she does for him. She blinks teary eyes at the view of Pentagram City, her jaw wobbling as she tried to keep herself together.

That’s when Alastor decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t know what to say or do in a situation like this. He’s not exactly the comforting type. Alastor could give her another gift, tell her that everything was going to be okay, and give her the usual spiel someone should give to help another feel better.

No, he did something he thought might just do the trick.

Alastor left her room, went up to his tower, switched the ‘On Air’ sign on and started a broadcast. A broadcast just for her.

“Hello my favorite little listener! How are you this chaotic evening?!”