Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And your redemption is our guarantee!”

Charlie stood behind a podium in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, surrounded by her colleagues and a modest gathering of sinners. She shot the group a pair of finger guns, then realizing some of the more violence-inclined individuals might get the wrong impression, quickly turned them into thumbs-up.

“Or your money back!” chimed in Angel Dust.

“No! No money back!” she quickly corrected. “Because you can stay here for free! And so long as you put in the work, we promise to do everything we can to help you.” She gestured around her. “Now please, mingle! Get to know one another! Have a drink! And if you feel like the Hazbin Hotel is the right fit for you, you can fill out an application at the bar. Our bartender will be happy to assist you!” Husk gave a half-hearted wave with his bar rag.

The princess beamed proudly as she watched all the potential hotel guests. There had to be at least twenty, that was twice as many as last week! Cherri was here again, and seemed to actually be chatting with some of the other sinners rather than just hogging Angel’s attention and mooching some free booze. She recognized a few folks from Cannibal Town too. And was that one of Velvette’s fashion models? She was practically bouncing from hoof to hoof in excitement.

“You did good, Charlie,” called Husk from behind the bar. He was serving a lizard demon a shot of whiskey, who snatched an application with his long tongue before scurrying away. Husk cracked a grin. “Word is really getting around.”

“We did good. I couldn’t have done this without you guys.”

It’s been three weeks since they defeated Adam and his exterminators. Not even a day after rebuilding the hotel, they got a new tenant. Two days later, they got another. With a fresh dose of motivation, Charlie kicked their marketing strategy into overdrive. It was her idea to host these weekly socials. Come for the free alcohol, stay for the cleansed soul, that was the slogan on their new flyers. Business was growing steadily. They were nearly at half capacity now and she couldn’t be happier.

“I’ve gone on week-long benders and these open houses are more exhausting than that.” Angel flopped down on a barstool, and before he could say another word, a drink was in his hand. He took a long swig and pointed the glass at Charlie. “I got leads on that lizard guy and Miss Fake Tits over there. One likes to diddle themselves in public and the other choked their high school cheer captain with her own hair extensions. I’ll have you guess who is who.”

“Oh boy,” she groaned. “Well, I guess it’s about time we covered sexual harassment in our daily workshops. And, err… hair safety.”

Angel rubbed his temples with two hands while sipping his drink with another. “If we weren’t so short-staffed, this would be-” Husk shot him a look and he immediately clammed up. “Oof. Sorry, Charlie.”

The princess smiled sadly at the two men. “It’s okay. I know I’ve been asking a lot of you guys lately. It’s not as easy with just the five of us.”

A week after the battle, her father had handed her a golden envelope, as perturbed by its delivery as she was. The message simply read Greetings from heaven! -Sir Pentious. She didn’t believe it at first, assuming it was some cruel joke. But her father assured her there was no duping an angelic telegram. And after a few awkward phone calls and a care package of Niffty’s famous crack cookies (they’re addictive like crack, they’re not actual crack, Charlie had assured them), the angelic council confirmed it. Sinners could be redeemed.

Her rapport with heaven wasn’t exactly great. They were pretty pissed about Adam (in principle, no one seemed to actually miss the guy) and there was still the matter of the yearly exterminations. Sinners fighting back didn’t exactly break the eons long pact but it definitely made things more complicated. Heaven had agreed to welcome any redeemed sinners and was even considering abolishing exterminations altogether, but they wanted more proof first.

Charlie needed to build a good working relationship with her angelic peers, but her father could only call in so many favors to get her through heaven’s gates. Plus, she insisted on being hands-on with the day-to-day of the hotel. She needed an ambassador. Unfortunately, the only person up there who would vouch for her was Pentious, and she couldn’t ask him to risk eternal paradise for that.

Then one night, Vaggie had sat her down, took her hands in her own, and told the princess that she would go. Charlie brushed her off at first, telling her they’d figured something else out, but her girlfriend’s mind was already made up. She was an angel herself. She knew how to deal with them. And someone had to try to reason with Lute about the exterminations.

So Charlie let her go.

She knew in her heart that’s how things would eventually end. Hell was her home. There was no redemption for her. But Vaggie deserved better. She belonged in heaven.

So they parted ways and dimensions as friends. With Vaggie as her angelic ally, Charlie was even more confident that they could convince heaven of what the Hazbin Hotel could do.

But with just five of them – herself, Husk, Niffty, Angel (who technically wasn’t even staff), and Alastor – they were stretched increasingly thin as more tenants came in.

“It’s more like the four of us,” complained Angel. “That smiley freak hasn’t lifted a finger to help out since we built this place. Where the fuck even is he? I haven’t seen him at a single one of these shindigs.”

“Beats me,” Husk replied, clearly unbothered by the radio demon’s absence.

Charlie pursed her lips, determined not to let her happy demeanor crumble. Alastor’s lack of engagement lately had been duly noted. It all started when he bailed in the middle of their battle with the exterminators. Every time she’d start to think that her business partner did actually care about what she was trying to do here, he’d do something to remind her that he was untrustworthy. The whiplash between his feigned loyalty and flakiness was getting tiresome.

Come to think of it, the only time she’s seen him in the past three weeks was when he popped up to show everyone that he was still alive. The jerk hadn’t even thanked her for rebuilding his radio tower.

He had always come through for her before, in his own twisted way, and she tried not to feel hurt at his lack of support now. But even if he was ignoring the needs of the hotel, she was surprised he wasn’t showing face just to harass the new guests. Sure, her father was now staying here too, but he was doing his best to let Charlie run things on her own.

“You know what? You’re right, Angel. Alastor should be here. I’m gonna go check on him. Can you guys handle things down here?”

“We got it, princess.” Angel downed the rest of his drink and hopped off his bar stool before disappearing back into the crowd.

Husk nodded towards the slowly growing stack of applications on the bar counter. “Tell that lazy prick when he gets down here that he can start working on those.”

Two elevator rides and one staircase later, Charlie found herself in the corridor that led down to Alastor’s radio tower. The air was cold and stagnant and she hugged herself to ward off the chill that passed through her. Identical guest room doors lined both side of the hallway. They were all vacant and the quietness that surrounded her was unsettling. This wing of the hotel had yet to have any occupants besides Alastor himself. She wasn’t sure how many people would want to stay in such close proximity to the radio demon.

Tap tap tap-tap. Charlie knocked a rhythm on the radio tower’s door. “Alastor?” she called out. “Are you in there?” She waited a moment then rapped the door again. No answer. She leaned down to inspect the eerie green glow that pulsed under the door frame. He was definitely inside.

Her hand went to the door knob and she was surprised to find it unlocked. Hesitantly, she pushed the door open, poking in just her head to call the radio demon’s name again. She was greeted with nothing but a low, staticky hum in the air. She stepped inside quietly, eyes scanning the various accoutrements with which Alastor had decorated the room. An alligator skull that was missing the bottom part of its jaw, a set of straw effigies, a portrait of a headless man holding a trumpet (how did he play it without a head?), various bundles of paper rolls that looked like they were meant for a player piano. This was the first she was seeing the room since they had rebuilt the hotel.

It had been mostly an empty space then, save for the radio console she had conjured up with her own magic. She didn’t know why she bothered to build the radio tower at all. At the time, they all thought Alastor was dead. Maybe the hotel didn’t feel complete without it. Or maybe there was a part of her that knew he wasn’t really gone.

In front of the radio console was a plush reading chair, which she was pretty sure belonged in one of the guest rooms down the hallway. (Really, Alastor? If he wanted one of his own, he could have just asked.) The “on air” indicator light was flashing green. Each time it pulsed, it illuminated the pair of antlers sticking out above the chair and a clawed hand digging into the armrest.

“Al?” Charlie called out.

She was suddenly pushed back by an invisible force that swept around the room, lighting the various candles and desk lamps scattered about. Jazz music broke the silence. Its melody contorted in an atonal screech that sounded like someone was beating the clarinet player with a brick. Charlie let out a startled “oof!” as she was spun around. When she looked back up, Alastor was in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other propped on the arm chair.

“Charlie!” he greeted, the radio filter in his voice cracking sharply. “I didn’t hear you come in. Or knock. Or know you were stopping by at all. And yet here you are invading my private space. What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Uhh, I did knock,” Charlie shot back. “And your door was unlocked. We missed you at the welcome party for the new tenants tonight. And last week. And the week before that.” She crossed her arms. “I came here to check on you. Where the hell have you been, Alastor?”

“Ah, I forgot that little soiree was tonight. I do apologize for my absence. I suppose I haven’t been a very good host lately.” His warbly tone told her he wasn’t the least bit sorry at all. “But don’t you worry your half-angelic little head about me. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what, exactly?”

“Stuff, my dear. Things.” His grin stretched wide and Charlie knew the man well enough to know that smile wasn’t sincere. Most weren’t. He gestured towards the door and she couldn’t help but notice how his eye twitched when he moved. “I assure you this hotel is still my top priority.”

“Uh huh.” She also noticed he hadn’t moved from his spot against the chair, and the chair itself seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright. “You know my dad doesn’t go to these things, if that’s the reason why you keep bailing on us. I asked him not to. Figured it would be a bit too much for folks to see the king of hell himself on their first day at the hotel.”

“A wise decision. His presence is grating at best.” Alastor still had his arm outstretched towards the exit. Charlie studied him for a moment. The longer he stood there, the more he looked strained. The hand on his hip clenched into a fist. “Are you sure you’re okay, Al?”

“As peachy as a pie eating contest in Georgia.” He stepped towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, spinning her to face the door.

Charlie let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright fine, but you need to show your face to the new tenants at some point! The hotel’s half full now, and with Vaggie gone, I need your-”

They had only made it a few steps when Alastor hissed and sunk his claws into Charlie’s shoulder.

“Ow! Alastor, what the f-“

Charlie was so sick of his nonsense. She whipped her head around to glare at him, having half a mind to give him a good slap. What she saw instantly dampened her anger. He was doubled over in pain, clutching his chest. His fingers twisted in the dark stain that rapidly bloomed on his dress shirt, which she realized was his own blood.

“Holy shit, what happened?!” The princess surged forward to catch Alastor as he stumbled. She slung an arm around his waist for support and guided him back to the reading chair. “Did Niffty finally snap and shank you?”

He gave a gurgled laugh as he sank back into the tufted cushion. “Just a little paper cut. Nothing for you to concern yourself with.” He motioned tiredly to the door. “You were just leaving, yes?”

Charlie didn’t move. This wasn’t just nothing. The man who she thought was near limitless in power was slumped in front of her with his chest split open. Few managed to lay a single finger on the radio demon, let alone be able to leave him in a state like this. Had he and her father gotten into a spat? No, her father wouldn’t do that. He might despise Alastor but he loved Charlie too much to maim her business partner. But who else in all of hell was powerful enough to harm the radio demon?

Her eyes widened in realization. “Adam,” she whispered. “That’s from your fight with Adam, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s brow furrowed in annoyance, his smile tense. “I told you it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Alastor, that was three weeks ago! You’ve been letting an angelic wound fester for that long?!” Guilt flooded her conscience. All this time, she thought he had just ducked out of the fight when things started to get serious. She didn’t realize he had gotten hurt.

“I just need a bit more time to heal and I’ll be back to my chipper old self.” The static effect on his voice flickered in and out, making him sound like a radio station with a bad signal.

Charlie shook her head. “That’s not how blessed weapons work. If you let that wound go untreated for too long, it’ll spread to your entire body and you’re disintegrate into nothing. A much worse fate than dying on extermination day.” She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let me take a look at it. I can help you.”

He brushed off her touch, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. “I don’t need you fussing over me like you do everyone else in this hotel, my dear. Nor do I intend to use up my favor with you on something as frivol as this.”

“I’m not doing this as a favor to you. I’m doing this because-” She paused. “Well, because I care about you. We’re business partners. And friends, right? You said so yourself. Besides, I can’t have you stumbling around the hotel and bleeding everywhere. You’ll scare away our new guests.”

“Hmm.” Alastor narrowed his eyes at her. “Alright, princess. Your annoying persistence wears even me down eventually. Make it snappy.”

Charlie extended her hand to his chest, and even before she made contact, she could feel an intense heat radiating from it. She wouldn’t be able to make much of a diagnosis without seeing the wound itself. As she gently gripped his bowtie with the intention of loosening it, the man’s hand shot up and gripped her wrist.

“WHAT are you doing?” he hissed in a low, staticky tone.

She yanked her hand from his hold, rubbing where his claws had dug into her skin. “I need to see how bad this thing is. And stop moving so much! You’re making it worse.”

He glared murderously at her, his smile so manic she expected it to rip from his expression and whack her in the face like a boomerang. She met his eyes defiantly, not backing down. He let out a prissy “hmph” and settled back. When she was sure he would behave himself, she reached for his bowtie again, loosening it with quick fingers and letting it hang untied around his neck. She noticed his throat muscles flex as her fingertips brushed against his skin. It was strange, for how handsy and invasive Alastor could get with her, he didn’t seem to like when the tables were turned.

She unfastened the top button of his shirt, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. “Sorry,” she found herself muttering.

“It’s customary to buy one dinner first, isn’t it?” he mumbled, voice strained.

She laughed uneasily. At least he was still cracking jokes. She’s not sure why his insinuation makes her cheeks burn. This was Alastor she was dealing with, though. He loved taking advantage of an awkward situation. She undid another button.

“Shiiiiiiit Alastor, this is bad.” His shirt was barely open past his collarbone and she could already see the tendrils of gold infection creeping out from his chest wound. They branched along his gray skin like he was some kind of unholy kintsugi pot. She gingerly traced her hand down the pattern, imbuing magic into her touch to see if it had any effect. Alastor pinched his eyes shut and groaned deep behind his clenched smile. She couldn’t tell if it was in pain or relief. To her delight, the infection was retracting. But as soon as she withdrew her fingers, it began spreading again.

“Damnit,” she cursed again. “Maybe I need to get right at the source.” Before she could expose more of his chest, Alastor grabbed her wrist again.

“I-I think that’s enough for today,” he said flatly and unfiltered.

“What? I’ve barely done anything,” she argued.

Alastor struggled to rise out of his seat. “As I said before, I appreciate your concern, my dear. But it really is time for you to leave now.”

Charlie pushed him right back down, only feeling a little bad about the wheeze of pain he let out. “If you’re not gonna let me help you, then at least let me take you to a hospital or something.”

“No. Please leave.”

“Or I could get something from my dad. I don’t even need to tell him it’s for you.”

“Absolutely not. Go, Charlie. That’s the last time I’ll ask nicely.”

She threw her fists down in frustration. “You stubborn old asshole! You’d seriously rather die than let someone help you?!”

“GET OUT!!” Alastor’s face contorted in a banshee-like shriek as his limbs began cracking and growing. His voice sounded like every soul he owned was screaming at her through a stadium amplifier. It cracked the windows of the radio tower and she instinctively covered her ears as it threatened to crack her skull too.

He began coughing. Blood dripped from his crudely sewn smile, some splattering on Charlie’s shirt. Before she knew what was happening, she was swept up in a swirl of green smoke and transported to the hotel bar, landing ass first onto one of the barstools.

Husk nearly jumped out of his fur and shattered the glass in his hand. “Where the FUCK did you just come from?!”

Alastor’s head was spinning. That little outburst zapped the last bit of energy out of him. He took a step back towards his chair and stumbled, hand shooting out to grip the edge of his radio console. His fingers slipped weakly along the metal as they failed to find anchor. He only just managed to catch himself before smashing headfirst into the soundboard.

Not just his chest burned. It felt like every vein in his body was on fire. They pulsed inside his skin, threatening to rip out of him. From underneath his sleeves, gold tendrils of infection slowly crept down his blackened hands. That same gold began to fill his vision.

He let out a defeated chuckle. “Well, that can’t be good.”

A fit of maniacal laughter overcame him, each breath like a handful of daggers being stabbed into his chest. And he thought going out in a grandiose display of altruism was bad. This was much worse. Alastor the radio demon, who all of hell feared, dying weak and alone in his radio tower. Mocking snickers that weren’t his echoed in the back of his brain. The always-watching eyes on his walls squinted at him in a mouthless sneer.

“I-Is this what you had planned for me all along?” he called out to no one. “For my legacy to end with a whimper? Snuffed out before it even had a chance to burn bright?”

Damn his pride, he should have just let the princess help him. Sweet Charlie, who would have done so out of the goodness of her hellborn heart, with no ulterior motive and expecting nothing in return. Sweet, stupid, naïve Charlie. Damn her too. It was her fault he got injured in the first place.

He shook his head in disagreement with himself. No, he was his own undoing. In his last moments, he was willing to admit that. He thought this world was his anthill and he had the magnifying glass. Now he realized he was in an anthill himself and there would always be someone with a bigger magnifying glass, ready to smite him as soon as he left himself exposed. Be it Adam, Lucifer, or other forces he’d rather not waste his final thoughts on.

With his last bit of strength, Alastor dissolved into black smoke. Seconds later, his shadow plopped him down somewhere soft. As the apple-embroidered canopies above him blurred into a golden haze, he found himself thinking about the princess. He hoped it wouldn’t upset her too much to find his disintegrated corpse in her bed.

Chapter Text

Charlie yawned as she turned the doorknob to her bedroom. As soon as she entered the room, a sickly sweet aroma hit her that made her stomach churn.

“Ugh, Razzle! Have you been eating jelly beans in the bed again?” she called out while kicking off her boots. She tossed the stack of hotel guest applications from that evening’s social on her desk. She had every intention tomorrow morning of marching up to Alastor’s room, shoving the papers in his hands, and telling him to get to work. But she knew she’d probably just end up doing them herself.

She snapped her fingers to turn on her bedside lamp, then let out a loud scream.

“FUCK Alastor! What are you doing in my room?! Why are you in my bed?!”

He didn’t respond. He was laying on his back, hands resting on his stomach, comfortably sunken into the mattress.

“Oh, you’re got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath. Did this creepy bastard really throw a tantrum and then decide to take a nap in her bed?

“Hey asshole!” she shouted. “Go snore in your own room!”

She was kind of surprised the radio demon was such a heavy sleeper. Or that he slept at all, really. With a frustrated grunt, she stomped around to his side of the bed and gave him a shove.

“Alastor!”

His head lolled to one side but he still didn’t wake. She gripped his shoulders with both hands and gave him a violent shake.

“Alastor!!”

Now that she was so close, she realized the nauseating scent was coming from him. Gold veins peeked out from his shirt collar. His face was pallid and nearly expressionless, save for his permanent smile. Something wasn’t right.

“Alastor, wake up. C’mon, this isn’t funny.” She slapped his cheek a few times. It felt feverish and clammy. He gave no reaction, not even an involuntary twitch. Panic began to bubble in Charlie’s stomach. She placed her finger under his nose and could feel the faint heat of his exhale. She breathed a small sigh of relief. He was still unalive, at least.

“Kill me for this later,” she mumbled as she quickly undid his bowtie. She sat him up in the bed to remove his dress coat and he slumped forward into her arms. His body was scorching. Shit, he looked way worse than he did a few hours ago.

The princess’s fingers fumbled frantically on the buttons of his shirt, popping several of them off. She winced as she heard them hit the floor, knowing the radio demon would be mad at her for ruining the garment. That is, if he even lived to find out about it. She carefully laid his half-dressed form back down on the pillows.

“Oh shit,” she cursed as she looked at his bare chest and could see the full extent of his injury. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

The wound was like a bolt of lightning, cut across his chest and glowing bright. It branched out infinitely to cover his entire torso and had spread down his arms and up his neck.

Alastor made a gurgling noise and Charlie cradled his head, lifting it up so he could speak better.

“Al? Are you okay?”

Tension lined his brow but his eyes remained closed. “Mama, I don’t want to wear those shoes.” His voice was heavily filtered and distant, like hearing a radio from another room. “The other boys will make fun of me.”

Charlie ran a hand through her hair. “Fuck, what do I do? What do I do?!” Alastor was dying in her bed. Should she call an ambulance? No, the healthcare in hell was shit. He’d die before they even bothered to dispatch the paramedics. What about her father? He had to have the power to undo whatever this was. Alastor would never forgive her for letting Lucifer save him. He’d probably end their partnership with some choice words and a middle finger to her face. But that was better than letting him die.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her father’s number. After one ring, it went straight to voicemail. The princess cursed under her breath. His phone was turned off. She forgot that he’s been hosting karaoke night for the other sins on the same night as her hotel socials. He didn’t like to be disturbed during those.

“Well, there’s no rule in poker that you can’t eat your own cards,” Alastor babbled deliriously. “You’re just a sore loser, Husker.”

She looked panickily back at him and placed a hand on his chest, feeling it rise with his shallow and irregular breaths. Her hand clenched in a fist. She wasn’t going to lose anyone else unless it was to a golden halo and set of wings. Determined, she strode across her bedroom to grab her desk chair, then dragged it to place in front of where he was laying. She sat down and placed both hands on the radio demon’s injury, closing her eyes as she began to concentrate. The angelic wound burned her skin like holy water, but she didn’t pull away. She focused her power into her fingertips, digging them into Alastor’s skin.

The radio demon began laughing and for a hopeful moment, she thought he was coming to. His smile grew wide and one eye cracked open, glazed over and distant. “Haha! Tax evasion!” he shouted gleefully before passing out again.

She refocused, feeling her horns grow as magic surged through her. Red and black sparks danced along Alastor’s chest like a fuse chasing gunpowder. The gold tendrils of infection began receding from his neck and arms.

Alastor groaned and his eyes shot open, pupils turned to radio dials. He opened his mouth and an old timey radio commercial about Japanese playing cards started playing.

If she wavered even a little bit, the infection began spreading again, and she was quickly losing steam. The radio demon continued sporadically spouting nonsense, each outburst less coherent than the last. He chittered off a recipe for mint juleps. He started singing “Tiptoe Through the Tulips”, but in reverse. At one point, his mouth lit up like a radio display and he began broadcasting a horse race.

“C’mon Al, you can’t bail on us so easily.” Charlie stood up and leaned over the man, one knee on the bed. “You can’t bail on me.” She gripped his chest with one hand and braced her forearm with the other hand. With a resolute grunt, she blasted him with all the unholy magic she could muster. The princess could feel the heavenly corruption dissipating. The angelic wound began glowing red, sucking the branches of infection back into their source. Then the glow faded into Alastor’s gray skin, leaving a fresh, grotesque, but otherwise normal-looking scar.

Charlie collapsed back in the chair, completely drained. She wiped the sweat from her brow then sat up to check on Alastor. He was still pale but his breathing had regulated. She sighed in relief. He was past the worst of it, she hoped.

She watched him as he laid there unconscious. It was unnerving to see him in a state like this. Weaken. Vulnerable. So very human. The man was so powerful and enigmatic, she forgot that even he was mortal once. She scrunched her nose amusedly. Underneath all those fancy clothes, he was kind of scrawny though. Seven feet of nothing but limbs.

The radio demon suddenly stirred and the princess leaned in close, holding her breath in anticipation. His hand shot out and grabbed hers.

“C-Charlie,” he croaked. There was no filter on his voice, no mocking tone, and she swore his smile faltered for a second. It was the most authentic she’s ever seen the man. They locked eyes. His had lost that sinister, calculating glint they usually had. Charlie couldn’t really make sense of how he was looking at her, but for some reason it made her heart leap into her throat. She must just be relieved that he was okay.

Alastor’s hand dropped from her arm and his head fell back against the bed. He was out cold. Charlie sighed and got up to grab some extra blankets from her closet. It was gonna be a long night.

Alastor groaned. He felt like someone had tied cinder blocks to his hands and feet and threw him in the Mississippi. There was a weight on his chest that made it difficult to breath. He tiredly cracked open his eyes and saw KeeKee was curled up and sleeping on him.

“Do you mind?” he grumbled to the cat.

KeeKee’s ears twitched at the sharp feedback of his voice, but she ignored him.

“KeeKee, no! Get off of him!”

Charlie was sitting in a chair next to him. She must have just woken up as well. Her hair was a mess and she was wearing the same pantsuit he saw her in the previous night, with her shirt wrinkled and her suspenders hanging loosely around her waist. Quite an unbecoming appearance for hellish royalty. She shooed KeeKee off of him, who scurried under the bed.

“Good morning, sunshine!” The princess greeted as she rubbed a kink in her neck. “How are you feeling?”

Alastor blinked slowly at her. He took in his surroundings and realized he was in Charlie’s bedroom. In his sick delirium, he remembered dragging himself here last night. He also realized he was shirtless and yanked up the blanket that was covering him.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked pointedly.

“Right over there.” Charlie pointed to the neatly folded pile on the ottoman at the foot of her bed. “I washed your jacket, that thing smelled like a dead animal. And there’s uhh, a few buttons missing from your shirt. Sorry.” He narrowed his eyes at her and she shook her hands in defense. “B-But don’t worry! Niffty should be able to sew them back on.”

He gave a staticky hum of annoyance. That was his favorite shirt. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll be going now.” He pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring how his arms trembled at the exertion. Before the shame of needing the princess’s help could set in, he wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

“Woah, slow down. You had a rough night. You need to rest.” She placed a hand on his shoulder in an effort to keep him from getting up.

“There’s no rest for the wicked, my dear.” He flicked her hand off his shoulder like he was flicking a speck of dust. With a strained grin, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. His knees buckled, then immediately gave out, causing the radio demon to fall face first onto the floor.

“Oh!” Charlie hopped out of her seat to help him, but he put a finger up to stop her. With a snap, he summoned his shadows to bring him to his radio tower.

With another snap, he summoned his shadows again. They seemed to be taking their sweet old time to assist him. He snapped his fingers angrily a few more times, like striking a match that refused to ignite.

The princess kneeled down next to him. “Uhh, what are you doing?”

“Am I not turning into a black swirl of void and then disappearing into thin air?” he mumbled into the carpet.

“Nope.”

“Well, phooey.”

“Alastor, just let me help-”

He held out his finger to her again. She threw her hands up in defeat and flopped back into the chair. The radio demon rolled himself over and crawled unceremoniously back into the bed, wriggling his useless body along the mattress like some kind of slug. He slung the blanket around his shoulders and clutched it tightly in front of his chest to cover his immodesty.

“What did you do to me?” he accused, feedback rising in his voice. “What happened to my powers?”

“I saved your life,” Charlie retorted. “You’re welcome for that, by the way. And I don’t know why your powers are gone. You were nearly destroyed body and soul. It’s probably gonna take a little while to gain back your full strength.”

His smile pulled thin. That was highly concerning. But he was done letting the princess indulge in his weakened state. He wasn’t about to become her next little passion project.

“Whatever the reason, it’s probably best I wait this out in my radio tower. If you’d be a doll and give me a little zap of magic to get me out the door, I’ll be on my merry way.”

“And let you wallow up there for another three weeks? No way. Just stay here, it’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you while you recover.” She shook her head. “Honestly, Alastor. Why is it so hard for you to accept when someone just wants to help you?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Because people don’t help each other just out of the goodness of their hearts, especially not down here. Everyone has ulterior motives, my dear.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t. I’m just doing the right thing by helping a friend.”

His eyes flickered knowingly. “I think you want to help me because you feel guilty that I got hurt and need to clear your conscience. And you know your little hotel scheme would crumble to the ground without me.” He laughed. “It quite literally did, if you remember.”

She grumbled but didn’t respond, so he leaned in close and booped her nose. “Tell me I’m wrong. Even you’re not above using people, Charlie. Whether it’s for your own ends or just to convince yourself of your own righteousness.”

That struck a nerve. Her face fell into a deep scowl and her sclera turned red. “You know, asshole, one of these days all this smack talk is gonna catch up with you and you’ll end up dying alone in a gutter somewhere. And no one will sad about it. Not even me.”

She got up from her chair and scooped up his clothes from the ottoman, making a dramatic show of crumbling up the nicely folded garments before angrily plopping them onto his lap. She them stomped over to her desk to grab a stack of papers.

“Here.” She shoved the papers into his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “While you’re getting some rest, you can be responsible for vetting all the new hotel applicants. And you better do a thorough job because I’ll be placing all these folks in your wing of the hotel.”

He began chuckling. Oh how he enjoyed getting the princess’s goat like this. Especially when she got worked up enough to sass him back. She really could stick up for herself when she wanted to. He was almost proud.

As Charlie leered over him, Alastor noticed the splatter of blood on her shirt collar. With a curious hum, he took the fabric between his thumb and forefinger, wondering if it was his blood. Charlie stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

“You know, I was really worried that you wouldn’t make it through the night,” she said quietly, looking down at her hooves.

Alastor gave her a fake pout. “Would you have mourned me, princess?” he mocked.

She met his eyes. “Yeah, I would have. For a second time, mind you.”

The seriousness of her answer caught him a little off guard. He took in her disheveled appearance, really took it in this time. Not just her rumbled, stained clothes and messy hair. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. The crusted gold flakes on her fingernails. Had she sat vigil by his bedside all night? The thought of someone doing that for him made him feel… strange. Guilt suddenly nagged at his conscience for upsetting her.

“I need to go. I promised Niffty I’d help her with breakfast.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Stay here or go back to your radio tower, I don’t care anymore. But I am checking in on you whether you want me to or not.”

Alastor made a “hmph” noise of neither agreement nor disagreement, then watched the princess as she turned to leave.

“Charlie,” he called out as she was about to open the door.

She whipped around to glare at him, her eyes steely as she waited for his incoming snark.

“I am thankful for your help,” he said.

She blinked several times at him, astonished. “You’re welcome, Alastor.”

Chapter Text

“Stab, stab, stab!” Niffty was aggressively slicing tomatoes with a butcher knife bigger than she was. “Beat, beat, beat!” She then tossed that aside and began vigorously whisking a bowl of eggs. Charlie could barely keep track of her as she scurried frenziedly around the kitchen. The little bug hadn’t even noticed she was there.

“Hey Niffty!” Charlie called out as she grabbed an apron from behind the door.

“Hi!” Niffty stopped dead in her tracks and greeted her with a crazed smile. She scrunched her face. “You look like shit.”

“I had a rough night,” the princess said as she self-consciously patted down her frizzy hair. “What can I help with?”

“Toast!” The tiny woman hurled two bags of sliced bread at Charlie, who barely had time to react before one of them bounced off her head. She got to work feeding bread into the conveyor toaster and trying not to doze off as she stacked the toast that popped out onto a plate.

“Good morning, sweetie!” She turned to see her father enter the kitchen. “Augh! You look like shit.”

She gave him a deadpan look as she opened the refrigerator to grab the butter and jams. “So do you, dad.” Lucifer was missing his waistcoat and had his bowtie wrapped around his head like a sweatband. There was a lollipop sticking to his shirt. “I take it you had fun at karaoke night?”

“Oodles of it!” he replied. Niffty skittered up his body and dropped a cup of coffee in his hands. He plucked the lollipop off his shirt and used it as a stirrer. “How did your recruitment night go?”

Charlie plopped down her tower of toast with the rest of Niffty’s breakfast spread. “Pretty well, I think. We had a good number of people fill out applications. Alastor’s looking over them for me.”

Her father rolled his eyes at the mention of the radio demon’s name. “Well that’s just swell, Charlie! I’m sure we’ll be turning on the ‘no capacity’ sign real soon. Why don’t you tell me all about it over breakfast?” He grabbed two plates and handed one to her.

“Actually, I’m gonna take breakfast to go. I’ve got some work to finish up in my room.”

“Alright, but don’t work yourself too hard, kid. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to hold a circus.”

Charlie put two pieces of toast on her plate, then after contemplating for a moment, grabbed three more. She cut a hefty slice of the frittata Niffty made and overfilled her plate with some of the other items laid out.

“Wow, you must be really hungry,” Niffty commented.

She laughed nervously. “Err, yeah. Worked up an appetite after last night’s party.” She poured two mugs of coffee as Niffty continued staring at her.

“Your heart will give out from all that caffeine,” the tiny woman said before grabbing the rest of the carafe for herself.

The princess balanced everything in her arms and headed back up to her room. After opening the door with her magic, she was surprised to see that Alastor was still occupying her bed.

His dress coat and bowtie were draped neatly over her desk chair, leaving him dressed in just his shirt and trousers. He had the sleeves rolled up and the collar was undone at the top where she had accidentally popped off the buttons. It was bizarre to see him dressed so informally. It felt more forbidden to see him like this than completely topless. Charlie’s eyes lingered a little too long at the peek of his chest beneath his shirt. Then they lingered a little longer on the lean muscles of his forearms where his skin turned from gray to black.

Wait, what was she doing? Was she ogling the radio demon?! She quickly averted her eyes, feelings her cheeks heat up.

“You’re still here,” she greeted.

“Yes,” he mused, not looking up from the paper in his hand. “I thought about what you said and decided you were right that I would recover faster in your care. Moreover, your bed is quite comfy and I don’t feel like moving.”

She grinned knowingly at him. “You don’t want anyone to see you slithering down the hallway without your powers.”

He looked unamused. “And that. You didn’t tell anyone what happened last night, did you?”

Charlie shook her head. “I figured you didn’t want me to. And there’s no sense scaring everyone by telling them that one of the most powerful overlords in hell almost died from an angelic wound. Not when we still don’t know if and went the next extermination will happen.”

He hummed in agreement. “Well, thank you for that, my dear.”

“See? Is being grateful for your friends so hard?” she teased. She placed the plate down on the bed and offered him one of the mugs. “Here. I brought breakfast.”

He sipped daintily from the cup but turned his nose up to the platter of food. “I adore our darling Niffty, but I’m not particularly fond of her cooking.”

“You should really eat something,” Charlie said as she took a piece of toast for herself. “It’ll help you gain your strength back.”

He gave a defiant “hmph” and grabbed the stack of papers next to him. “I’ve gone through all these applications, as you requested. My notes and recommendations are in red.”

“Already?” Charlie took the top paper off the pile, then side-eyed him suspiciously. “You didn’t just mark everyone as no, did you?”

Alastor waved his hand dismissively as he sipped his coffee. “Honestly, Charlie. Have some more faith in me. I saw your little evaluation box and made all the necessary comments and scoring.” He skimmed through the stack and pull out an application, then handed it to her. “That fellow with the lobster claws is another VoxTek spy, by the way. You should keep an eye out if he snoops around the hotel again.”

“Aww, Chompy Pete? Really? He seemed nice. You sure it’s him and not that ex-model from the Vee’s?”

“No, Heather is surprising sincere. Though I wouldn’t let her near any competitive sports.” He flicked her braid. “Or anyone with long hair.”

“What about that lizard guy?”

“Name’s Ted.” He pulled his application from the pile. “Disturbingly perverted but willing to change.”

“We can definitely work with that.”

Charlie sat down on the bed and scooted next to Alastor, who leaned closer to show her the paper. Unprompted, he grabbed another one from the stack.

“You’ll never believe how poor Peppy ended up down here.” His smile widened mischievously, like he was sharing some hot gossip. “His wife caught him having an affair and he had a heart attack while in bed with his mistress.”

“Oof, that’s rough. Lemme guess, he wants to get to heaven to reconcile with his wife?”

“Oh no, his wife is down here too. His mistress as well. He’s trying to get away from them. But he would like to see his children again.”

Alastor ripped off a piece of the frittata and popped it into his mouth. Charlie watched him and smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. He sorted through the applications and showed her another one.

“This sad little lady calls herself Mooshy. Just wait until you hear her sob story.”

Charlie was enraptured as she listened to Alastor carry on about each and every potential hotel guest. She was beginning to feel some of her faith in the man being restored. He really did pull through for her when she needed it. And maybe it was because he was less threatening without his powers, but she was enjoying his company. They had polished off breakfast, reviewed all the applications, and then continued to sit on her bed and discuss the goings-on of the hotel. She hadn’t realized how long they had been chatting until she glanced at her phone and saw it was half past noon.

“Shit!” The princess sprang off the bed. “Today’s group activity! I totally forgot about it. Shit, shit, shit.” She rushed to her desk and began tossing pamphlets left and right. “Ahhh, I gotta have something here I can use.” She shoved a few papers under the claw of her clipboard. After taking a deep breath to compose herself, she glanced at her reflection in the window and did her best to make herself presentable. She could see Alastor behind her, watching her with an amused smirk.

“You could come with me if you’re feeling up for it,” she offered.

He laughed. “My dear, even if I did, I’d much rather get shot in the head again than subject myself to one of your little morality lessons.”

She rolled her eyes. “I figured as much. Get some rest, then. I’ll bring dinner later. I’ll try to find something more-” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “To your taste.”

As she got to the door, she turned back to the radio demon. “Oh, and Al? Thanks for looking at those applications. It was a huge help.”

“What would you do without me?” he said as he relaxed back into her bed with a smug smile.

“What would I do without you,” she repeated sarcastically.

Alastor blew out a puff of air and watched as his bangs fluttered up for a moment before falling back onto his forehead.

He was bored out of his mind.

There wasn’t much to do in Charlie’s bedroom aside from stare out the window and people-watch, but there hadn’t been a single murder out on the street all day. KeeKee slinked into the room a few times and he was so desperate for something to break up the monotony that he tried to coerce her into playing with a loose string he pulled off his shirt. He could at least walk around now without falling flat on his face, but he wouldn’t dare let anyone seen him until his powers were fully restored.

There was a knock outside the room and he bolted up, hating how much he was looking forward to the princess’s return.

“Hey Char-Char, so I had some ideas for that empty-” Lucifer’s face immediately fell. “Oh. It’s you.” His nostrils flared in anger. “What the HELL are you doing in my daughter’s room?”

The radio demon gave a staticky hum of annoyance, his grin pulling into a tight line. This was the last person he wanted to see, especially in his current state.

“Waiting for her,” he replied with a sneer. He gestured to the door. “Do you mind? She and I have some business we need to finish up tonight.”

“Business?” Lucifer’s eyes scanned the room, then settled back on Alastor in the bed. His eyebrows rose up to his hairline. If looks were knives, his was a giant broadsword. “What kind of business?”

“She and I are partners in this hotel, you know. And with dear Vaggie having left us for more holy endeavors, I’ve found myself needing to help out with some of the more essential functions she performed.”

“Essential functions?” Lucifer’s voice cracked high. His face was hellish red and one of his eyes looked like it was about to bulge out of his skull.

The two men stared each other down. Alastor had no clue why the king of hell was in such a volatile mood, though he took satisfaction in knowing that just his mere presence was enough to set Lucifer off.

Lucifer suddenly burst into laughter and doubled over, slapping at his knee. “You’re fucking with me. You’re fucking with me! Oh, I thought for a moment you two were-” He shuddered. “Out of all the things I need to worry about with you creeping around my daughter, at least I know that Charlie will NEVER want to fuck you!”

“I-” Alastor found himself utterly gobsmacked. Is that what Lucifer thought upon seeing him in his daughter’s bed? That he and the princess were being… intimate with each other? His lip snarled. What a ridiculous conclusion to jump to.

What’s more, how dare that pint-sized imbecile imply that Charlie would be so repulsed by him to never even consider him an option! Not that he wanted her to consider him. But he was comfortable enough with his own vanity to know he wasn’t physically unattractive. Surely the princess thought the same.

Before he could think of a clever comeback, Lucifer was already out the door, his laughter echoing down the hallway.

A short while later, Charlie finally decided to grace him with her presence. She brought him a bloodied package of meat, which he slurped down as he listened to her prattle on about how well her lesson plan went today.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I’ve just been blabbing about myself and didn’t even ask how you’re doing. Any luck with your powers?”

Alastor nodded towards the wall, where his shadow was hanging upside down like a bat and sleeping. “That’s as much progress as I made,” he said with an annoyed smile. He rapped his knuckle against the wall and the shadow hissed at him, then went back to sleep.

“Any progress is still progress,” she encouraged. “So what else did you do today?”

It amused him how genuinely interested she seemed. The princess never just made small talk. She was the type to remember every minute detail that someone shared with her. He couldn’t help but be charmed by that.

“Oh, you know,” Alastor replied in a sing-song voice. “Rifled through your personal belongings. Read your diary. Replaced the liquid in all your shampoo bottles with battery acid. The usual.”

“Har har,” she replied flatly.

He sighed and rested his head in his hand. “Truthfully, I’ve been bored to tears all day, my dear. This animal has no enrichment in its enclosure.”

“Well I’ve got just the thing to stimulate your brain!” She brandished a file folder that was decorated with little heart and rainbow stickers.

He plucked the folder from her hands, feeling how thick its contents were. “More tenant applications?”

“No, these are from today’s activity. I asked everyone to write down something they’re looking for advice on.”

His grin widened. “And you want me to provide them with guidance?”

“No, that would be a disaster. I actually thought we could do it together! With my positive encouragement and your-”

“Diabolical musings?”

“I was gonna say blunt honesty.” She swung her fist encouragingly. “Between the two of us, I think we could come up with some really good advice for folks!”

“Hmm.” Alastor contemplated for a moment, then shrugged. “All right, princess. I’ll indulge you. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

Charlie squeaked with delight and hopped on the bed next to him. He adjusted his monocle and pulled the first paper out of the file folder.

Alastor awoke to feel a weight on his chest. He figured KeeKee thought he was a good spot to nap again and swept his arm to shove her off, but was met with something much bigger than a cat.

It was Charlie.

She had passed out on his chest, with a pen still in her hand and a paper stuck to her cheek. She must have fallen asleep on him while they were working. He didn’t remember dozing off either. The last thing he recalled was laughing with her over a particularly bizarre request for advice on toe fungus.

He looked at the clock tower outside her window. It was four in the morning. No one in the hotel would be up for a few more hours. And Charlie was always a bit delirious if she didn’t get enough sleep. He decided to just let her be. Besides, he wasn’t exactly uncomfortable in their current position. He could bear it for a little longer.

He carefully pried the pen out of her hand and unstuck the paper from her face. A chunk of hair had fallen out of her braid and clung to her forehead. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to do so, but he gently unstuck it and tucked it behind her ear.

Charlie stirred and his hand froze. She smiled in her sleep and nuzzled into his shirt.

Alastor’s chest was burning, but it was different than the pain he felt when he had an infection. In fact, he wouldn’t even call this pain. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, it just felt… different. He shrugged it off. He’s been having a lot of peculiar feelings the past few days.

Chapter Text

Charlie sighed contently as she slowly stirred awake. She hadn’t sleep that well in a loooong time. Her bed was extra comfortable this morning and she just felt so cozy. Like she was wrapped up in a warm hug.

Wait, this warm cozy thing she was snuggling with was someone’s chest, which was attached to an arm that was draped over her. She opened her eyes to see Alastor lying next to her.

“Holy shit!” she yelled, scrambling away from him. In her panic, she fell off the bed and kicked him in the face.

It sounded like she knocked over a loudspeaker. Alastor stirred. “Ow,” he said flatly.

“Sorry!” Charlie swirled her fingers in the air, sending sparks of magic that danced along the bump forming on the radio demon’s cheek. He rubbed the spot and glowered at her with his eyes, smile pulled tight.

“Sorry!” she said again as she began gathering up the papers that were scattered across the bed. “I didn’t mean to sleep with you-” Her eyes shot wide. “SHIT! I-I mean I didn’t mean to sleep on you.”

Alastor sat up and smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt. He didn’t seem to even notice her slip of the tongue. “Quite the roundhouse kick you’ve got there, my dear.”

She laughed nervously. “Sorry,” she said for a third time. She could feel her face heating up in embarrassment and turned towards her desk to distract herself with the papers in her hand. As she was organizing the piles, she caught a whiff of something funky. She sniffed her shirt and realized with mortification that it was her. When was the last time she changed her clothes? The night of the hotel social? That was two days ago. Her face got even redder. She had been cozied up all night to Alastor while smelling like a dirty armpit.

She had been cozied up. All night. To Alastor.

She needed to shower, gather her thoughts for the day, and get the hell out here. It was orientation day for the new hotel guests. She had to stay focused.

“I’m gonna go shower,” she blurted out, leaving Alastor and his bruised face alone in her bedroom.

A short while later, she was sitting at the kitchen counter, watching her father flip pancakes on the griddle. Lucifer had insisted that one of his contributions to the hotel be cooking a big pancake breakfast every Sunday. Charlie enjoyed the budding tradition and seeing everyone in their pajamas as they shoveled the syrupy goodness down their throats.

Her father slid a plate in front of her and gave her an affectionate pat on the head. Her pancakes were adorned with two strawberry eyes and a whipped cream smile.

“Can I grab two more to go?” she asked as she popped one of the strawberries into her mouth.

“Do you have a parasite or something?” Niffty asked as she scurried down the counter with the syrup dispenser. She dumped half of it on Charlie’s pancakes.

“No, they’re for Alastor.” She saw her father’s shoulders tense. “He’s uhh, working on something for me. So I figured I’d take up some breakfast for him.”

“So we’re bringing him room service now?” Lucifer grumbled. He slammed down hard on the pancake he just flipped.

Charlie shrugged apologetically. “I’m just being a good business partner.”

Her father begrudgingly obliged, tossing two very burnt pancakes onto a plate and crudely spraying a frowny face of whipped cream on them. The princess thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and headed back towards her room.

On her way there, she passed by the communal study. She stopped, pursing her lips in contemplation. They had a growing collection of books in there, ones she personally vetted to ensure they were beneficial for the rehabilitation of her hotel guests. She felt bad that Alastor was already going stir crazy after only two days and knew she wouldn’t have much time to entertain him today, what with the new tenants arriving before lunch. Quite frankly, she was glad he would be confined to her room for this. She didn’t want him meddling and sending these sinners running out the door before they even put their bags down. Still, she figured the least she could do was grab him something to read. She tucked a few books under her arm.

“Breakfast!” Charlie announced cheerily as she entered her room. Alastor was leaned against the window, entertained by something down below. There was a drunken imp stumbling down the sidewalk, shouting profanities at anyone who passed him. Alastor wriggled his fingers and a tentacle popped out of the sidewalk, then immediately flopped over limp. He gave a frustrated hiss.

“Daddy’s Sunday pancakes?” He eyed up the plate in her hands and scoffed. “No thank you.”

The princess rolled her eyes and placed the plate on her bedside table. Men and their pride. She knew he’d eat them as soon as she left.

“We’ve got a lot going on today so I won’t be back until pretty late. Razzle will bring you up dinner later. I asked him to stick around, so if you need me for anything, he’ll come and get me.”

“How thoughtful,” Alastor said sarcastically as he returned to his people-watching.

“I brought you some books too! Something to pass the time.”

The radio demon gave the books a suspicious look over, then snatched them from her hands. His eyes narrowed as he read off some of the titles. “Nap Your Way to Success: A Procrastinator’s Guide to Self-Improvement. Me, Myself, and My Inner Child. Existential Dread for Dummies: It Won’t Be Okay and That’s Okay.” He peered down at her from behind his monocle. “What is this garbage?”

“They’re self-help books. It’s kind of the only thing we’ve got in the library right now. But c’mon, I’m sure there are some tidbits in there that even you can benefit from.”

With a sinister grin, he stepped over to her desk and dropped the books in the wastebasket. “I used to murder these type of flimflam men who tried to convince people that some overpriced words on a page would somehow fix their pathetic lives.”

Charlie rushed over and dug the books out of the trash. “They’re not meant to be some kind of magic solution for your problems. They’re meant to impower you to take your life into your own hands and make it better yourself.”

“A fool’s errand, truly.”

Charlie exhaled sharply out her nose, determined not to let him get under her skin. She turned to face him. “What’s your endgame here, Alastor?”

“I don’t have much on the agenda today, my dear.”

“No, I mean in general. At this hotel.”

He looked amused at her impromptu interrogation. “I thought I made my intentions very clear when I got here. I’m bored. I want entertainment. And this hotel entertains me. For the time being, at least.”

“So one day you’re just planning on abandoning me?” She paused. “Abandoning us, I mean? And all the work we’ve done here?”

He chuckled. “You make it sound so personal. No. One day I’ll decide this arrangement has ended, we’ll tie up whatever loose ends we have, and that’ll be that.” He stepped closer and brushed his knuckle against her cheek. “That’s just business, sweetheart.”

“You still don’t believe in what I’m doing here, do you?”

“Hmm.” Alastor tapped a finger on his chin and looked genuinely thoughtful for a moment. “I supposed I believe in your cause more than I did when I first got here. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Charlie was pleasantly surprised at his answer. Maybe the radio demon wasn’t such a lost cause after all. “You know what? I’ll take it.”

The clock tower struck ten as Alastor watched another milquetoast sinner scurry away from the hotel. He raised his fist, summoning a tentacle that tripped them. With a satisfied sneer, he watched as their bags spilled open and they tumbled down the hilly sidewalk.

Three out of the ten new hotel guests abandoned their dreams of redemption before their first night. Those statistics weren’t terrible, he supposed. Even if all ten of them had left, dear sweet Charlie and her unwavering positivity would have still found a way to spin that into a good thing.

He sat down on the bed, feeling drained from exercising his powers all day. His shadow slinked along the walls, looking annoyed with him.

“As if you’re doing anything to help our current predicament,” he snapped at it.

He laid back and stared at the canopy above him, wondering when the princess would return. He was sure she’d burst excitedly through the door and immediately start gabbing to him about their new guests and all the creative ways she was going to save their souls. Even though he still thought this whole endeavor was foolhardy, her hard work was paying off. Dare he say he was even a little happy for her?

Alastor drummed his fingers on his chest, feeling restless. He glanced over at her desk where the stack of books laid. With a shrug, he summoned one of them into his hand. Might as well entertain himself with some bad advice.

The book was entitled The Work Wife Handbook: How to Keep Things Professional (Or Not). He flipped to a random page.

Chapter 3: Boundaries, Like Time Reports, Are Mandatory

Sharing a communal coffee mug? Taking trips to the bathroom together so you can gossip about Karen between the stall walls? Rigging a complex series of mirrors between your cubicles so you can see each other’s reactions to Jamal’s failed attempts at schmoozing the boss? It’s cute until it becomes excessive. Remember, this isn’t some British-turned-American workplace comedy. You’re coworkers, not soulmates. Respect each other’s personal space, both physical and emotional.

Ah yes, he was sure that proper workplace etiquette was the ticket to getting into heaven. He should suggest this excerpt to Charlie for one of her silly lectures. Thoroughly amused, Alastor flipped to another chapter.

Chapter 6: Setting Your Heart, Not The Printer, On Fire

That’s not the smell of microwaved fish in the breakroom. Love is in the air! If you and your sweet office princess find yourselves catching feelings, follow these rules.

Rule #1: Ignore all HR policies. They’re just suggestions, right?

Rule #2: Office plants are your best wingman.

Rule #3: Make sure there’s a lock on the inside of the supply closet.

Rule #4: Gary in accounting probably wasn’t going to use that chair anyways.

Rule #5: IT is full of weirdos who most definitely read all your sexy emails. So make them extra spicy, those nerds deserve some excitement.

Alastor cocked an eyebrow. He maybe understood three words of that. He glanced over to Razzle, who was napping on Charlie’s desk chair.

“Any idea what a ‘wingman’ is?” he asked.

The goat demon shrugged.

“What about a ‘sexy email’?”

Razzle blinked one eye and then the other.

The radio demon bared his teeth in an annoyed smile. “Do you even understand what I’m saying? I just assumed you know human language considering you wear a silly little suit and bowtie.”

Footsteps approached from the hallway and Alastor snapped his fingers, sending the book back to its pile. He didn’t want the princess to know he had actually read one of her self-help books, even if it was full of nonsense. He threw himself back on the bed, trying to look inconspicuous. His head snapped up to look at Razzle and he pointed a threatening finger.

“If you tell Charlie I was reading that, I’ll dice you up and turn you into gumbo.”

Razzle blew a raspberry at him and curled back up to sleep.

A few seconds later, Charlie entered the room. She tossed her clipboard on the desk, did a spin, and landed on the other side of the bed with a happy sigh.

Alastor turned towards her and propped his head up with his hand. “I take it your welcome party went well?”

“Oh Al, it was wonderful!” Charlie hugged herself and wiggled excitedly on the bed. “Everyone was so nice! A few of them left, but that’s okay. They weren’t ready yet. The ones who stuck around though, they’re so excited to get started tomorrow! Angel and Husk were super helpful getting folks settled in their rooms. And everyone loved the cookies that Niffty baked. It was just great.” She raised a hand to her mouth as she fought off a yawn. “I’m ready to pass out now, though.”

She sat up and looked at Alastor, then her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh. I guess we need to figure out the sleeping situation.”

“I thought our arrangement last night was fine,” he replied casually as he inspected his nails. “This mattress is certainly big enough for two people.”

“Wha-?!” She sprang off of the bed. “N-No! That’s- I mean I know last night we- B-But that was an accident! And I-”

Alastor rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand why people made such a big deal about these matters. Beds were made for sleeping. When he was a young man, he once stayed in a boarding house where he had to sleep crammed between four burly railroad workers in a bed half this size.

“My dear, if you’re going to make this a whole thing, then put a wall of pillows between us. Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

She shook her head, clearly flustered. “I-I’ll just… sleep on the floor or something.”

“Charlie, you’re speaking nonsense. I’m not going to steal your own bed from you. I’m many terrible things but my mother still raised me to be a gentleman.” He stood up and summoned his dress coat, draping it over his arm. “I’m feeling well enough to retire to my own room anyways.”

“No!” Charlie exclaimed, stopping him by putting a hand on his chest. She looked surprised at her own overreaction and dropped her hand. “Al, you don’t even have a bed in your room. I told you that you could stay here until you’re fully recovered.” A sly smile suddenly spread across her face. “But then again, I did place all the new guests in your wing of the hotel. So you won’t be alone up there. And I saw Angel hop into the elevator with a few bottles of vodka, so I’m sure they’re having a really fun first night.”

The radio demon narrowed his eyes. Quite the manipulation tactic. He didn’t know the princess had that in her. His grin widened with a crack of feedback.

She thought for a moment. “I’ll just make myself a little nest in the bathtub. I used to do it all the time as a kid. It’s pretty comfy.”

He gave a staticky sigh of resignation and sat back down. “Suit yourself.”

The princess gathered up a few pillows and blankets and headed to her en suite bathroom. From the mirror on the door, Alastor watched as she tossed them in the large apple-shaped tub. She fluffed the pillows, then stepped back to look at her little setup with a slight frown.

He snapped his fingers. A fluffy down comforter materialized out of thin air and dropped into Charlie’s arms. She caught it with a surprised “oh!”, then gave him a sincere smile.

“Thanks, Al.”

He shrugged and laid back on the bed. “You should probably plug up that drain so nothing crawls out of it while you’re sleeping.” He started laughing when she shrieked in disgust and frantically grabbed a hand towel to shove in the drain.

“Goodniiiight, Charlie,” he sang.

“Ugh. Goodnight, Alastor.” She slammed the door shut.

Alastor laid in the darkness for a while, annoyed that sleep wasn’t coming for him despite how exhausted he was. He could feel eyes on him, the same eyes that were always somewhere, always watching him. A jolt of panic shot through him. He rubbed his chest, feeling a strain on his wound like an overworked muscle. He had to get his full power back soon.

He stared at the closed bathroom door, finding himself a little disappointed that Charlie had insisted she stayed on the other side of it.

Chapter Text

Alastor leaned against the wall to catch his breath, billowy black smoke rolling off of him as he finished materializing. He looked at the number marked on the baseboard. Eighty feet. That was five feet further than last time, but still not nearly as much progress as he had hoped to make.

He was currently in the hallway outside of Charlie’s bedroom and had been practicing his teleporting for the last hour. The princess had marked intervals along the baseboard with chalk and was helping him track his day-to-day improvement. In fact, she had taken it upon herself to develop an entire “power restoration plan”, as she liked to call it, for him. Complete with a chart she drew in sparkly pink ink and adorned with smiley face stickers for every time he reached a new milestone.

It annoyed him how insufferably encouraging she could be. It annoyed him even more the little thrill he got every time he earned another sticker. Charlie explained to him how the brain chemically reacts to positive reinforcement and he realized what a mastermind of manipulation she truly was.

He was determined to make it to the end of the hallway today. 120 feet. And he was going to earn that stupid smiley face sticker.

It felt foolish to strive for such a pathetic accomplishment. At peak power, he could instantly appear anywhere within a mile radius, so long as he knew where to go. Now he could barely get to the other side of a room without tuckering himself out.

If any of the other overlords saw him like this - hell, if anyone at all saw him like this - his reputation would be ruined beyond repair.

Alastor hated feeling useless. He hated feeling weak even more. But Charlie, surprisingly enough, made him feel neither.

Admittedly, the only thing keeping him sane during his recovery period was his daily routine with the princess. In the mornings, they’d have breakfast together in her room. Before heading off to do her hotel business, she’d leave him with another book or some paperwork to do. She made time nearly every day to help him with his exercises. Even let him chuck pencils at her with his tentacles that one time. And he could always count on her to bring him something slimy and raw for dinner, and some equally delicious gossip about the pour souls staying at their hotel.

The radio demon snapped his suspenders determinedly and sauntered to one end of the hallway. Closing his eyes, he felt himself dissolve into shadows. An instant later, he reformed. He looked down at the baseboard. 120 feet.

“Haha!” He swung his arm triumphantly. His shadow grew on the wall, a large gaping grin on its face. “Oh shoo, I did all the work here.”

Riding the high of his success, he snapped his fingers and a moment later, reappeared in Charlie’s room. He rifled through the top drawer of her desk to find her stickers and peeled off one from the row of sparkly red smiley faces (those were his favorite). He stuck it on his chart to mark his achievement.

Alastor looked out the window at the clock tower. It was almost one in the afternoon. Charlie hadn’t even started that day’s group activity yet. He tapped his chin. She had been constantly pestering him to start attending them. And perhaps he could show her a bit of gratitude for helping him this past week. He slung on his dress coat and disappeared into a drippy black haze.

“Welcome everyone! Sit, sit!” Charlie couldn’t contain her excitement as the hotel guests trickled in for their daily lesson. There were so many of them now that she had to conjure up some folding chairs so there were enough spots to sit. She might need to find a bigger space than the study to hold everyone.

“Ted! Peppy! How was your first night in the hotel?” Ted the lizard pervert blinked vacantly at her and Peppy the adulterer just yawned. They sat on either side of Heather the cheerleader killer, who immediately got up and opted for the floor instead.

“Here are those role play scenarios you wanted.” Angel dropped a bundle of index cards into her hand as he entered the room. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I made them extra kinky, just for you, hun.”

Charlie laughed nervously. She hoped she wouldn’t regret asking Angel for help putting together today’s exercise. “Thanks, Angel.” He shot her a pair of finger guns and flopped down on the loveseat next to Husk.

“Alright, folks! Let’s get started.” Charlie flipped around the whiteboard, making her own sound effects as she waved her jazz hands. In curly handwriting, it read Consent VS Harassment. “Today we’ll be discussing the importance of consent and understanding when our words and actions may actually be considered harrassment. Before we hop into the activity, let’s define these two terms. Can anyone tell me what consent is?”

Ted raised his hand. “Ain’t that the shit they use to make sidewalks?”

“Err, that’s concrete. But good guess!” She gave him a thumbs up. “Anyone else?”

“It’s when you, like, get permission or whatever before you pork someone.”

“That’s right, Heather! Well, consent is not just for, umm, intimate situations. But good example!”

A shadow moved along the wall, catching the princess’s eye. Two eyes and a smile appeared before Alastor fully materialized. Charlie’s face brightened and she waved to him. He winked at her and leaned back against the wall, eyes surveying the crowd of sinners.

“Okay! And what about harassment? Can anyone tell me what that means?”

“Cat calling,” Angel called out. “Well, I guess unless you’re into that shit.”

“Stabbing someone, hehehe.” Niffty was laying on her stomach and started kicking her feet excitedly.

Angel patted her on the head. “Niffty, honey, that’s just called murder.”

Heather raised her hand again. “When you use a burner phone to text some dumb bitch and tell her you hope her unibrow-plucking slut ass gets hit by a bus.”

“Those are all certainly some creative examples,” Charlie encouraged. “Harassment itself is when you do or say something that hurts someone. Sometimes you do this on purpose. Other times, you might thing you’re being nice, but it still makes the other person uncomfortable.”

She waved the cards in her hand. “And that leads us into today’s activity! We’ll be role playing some scenarios and discussing whether the interaction was consensual or harassment.” She pulled out a pair of cards. “I’ll help out with this first one. Who wants to be my partner?”

The room was dead silent. Everyone seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with her.

“Aaaanyone?”

Still no takers.

“C’mon guys, this is for your own benefit! I’ll pick a volunteer if no one steps up.”

“It’s not volunteering if you force them to do it,” Husk pointed out.

Alastor loudly tutted his tongue from the back of the room, causing everyone to turn and look at him. “What a disappointing lot. How can any of you expect redemption if you can’t even oblige our dear hostess in this simple request?” He strolled towards Charlie and plucked a card out of her hand. “Come Charlie, let’s set a good example for these degenerates.”

She beamed at him. “Thank you, Alastor! For those who haven’t met him yet, this is Alastor, our facilities manager.”

“Charmed to meet you all,” he said with a bored smile.

“Where the hell have you been?” Husk grumbled. “It was nice around here without you stanking up the place.”

“Oh, I’ve been aaaaaaaround!” he sang, making a twirling motion with his finger.

“So if I just hang out in my room all day, will Charlie bring me breakfast in bed too?” Angel asked.

“O-Okay!” Charlie interjected, eager to get back on track before folks pried too much into the radio demon’s absence. “Let’s get started on the first scenario. Alastor, why don’t you start?”

She watched him as he read over his card. His eyes narrowed and one started twitching. An awkward stretch of silence passed. Ted began picking his nose with his tail.

“Any time now,” she muttered under her breath.

He disintegrated the card in his hand. “I’m not reading that filth.”

Charlie scrubbed a hand down her face, then laughed nervously. “Err, just one moment, folks, while we readjust!” She grabbed Alastor by the arm and pulled him off to the side.

“Were you even paying attention when I explained the activity?” she hissed at him. “They’re the ones who are supposed to determine if something is inappropriate or not.”

He turned his nose up at her. “These words are deeply disturbing, my dear. I’m certainly not going to say them out loud. Especially not to you, my business partner.”

“It’s an anti-harassment seminar, Al. That’s kind of the point,” she retorted, completely deadpan. She really didn’t know if he was fucking with her or not. “You’re so old fashioned. C’mon, the scenarios aren’t even that bad.”

“Old fashioned, eh?” He raised an eyebrow challengingly, then summoned the card and handed it back to her.

Charlie looked over the first line of dialogue.

Hey there sugar tits. I’ve got quite the sweet tooth and I’ve heard you have a nice little crotch gummy for me to su-

She immediately crumbled up the card in her hand, not needing to read anymore. This had to be one that Angel Dust wrote. She peered up at Alastor who, under his smile, looked genuinely uncomfortable. She thought about him saying those words to her and it make her face feel hot. She shook her head. Anyone saying those words to her would make her blush.

“Err, y-yeah. That one’s a big much. Why don’t we do one of the consent scenarios?” She flipped through her cards and picked one of the pairs with a tiny “C” in the corner.

“Fair enough.” He snatched one from her, then cleared his throat as he turned back towards the group. “Oh, my dear sweet partner’s name!” He had slapped on his hammiest radio host voice. “I had the most delightful time with you at name of fancy restaurant! May I walk you home? It’s getting quite late.”

Charlie groaned behind a forced smile. He was trying, at least. “I had a great time too, Al. And sure, I’d love if you walked me home.”

“Make a motion like you’re walking!” Alastor declared confidently.

“You’re not supposed to read those parts out loud,” Charlie whispered behind her hand. “This is me,” she exclaimed to the group as she jabbed her thumb at an imaginary apartment door.

“When can I see you again?” he asked. “Are you busy next date in future? Maybe we can do nonsexual romantic activity!”

“Al, seriously. You can ab lib a bit,” Charlie muttered. She cleared her throat. “That sounds wonderful! It’s a date.”

“Before I say goodnight, may I kiss you?”

“Yes you may. I consent to that,” she recited from her card, stressing the word “consent”. She was so busy scanning the group to see any signs of recognition, that she didn’t notice Alastor had stepped closer to her and leaned down. Her eyes widened when he pecked her on the cheek.

“Oh, this is getting kinda hot,” Angel commented from his seat.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh…” Charlie completely blanked. She looked down at her card, confirming that she definitely hadn’t written that in the script. She snuck a glance at Alastor, who was grinning at her, looking very pleased with himself for throwing her off guard.

“Your line is ‘Thanks again for a fun night’,” he whispered.

Nifty giggled from her spot on the floor. “Why are you so red?”

Charlie snapped out of her daze. “A-And that’s the end of this scenario! Thank you, Alastor, for your, err, help.” She patted him on the back, a little harder than she intended, and sent him back to his spot against the wall. She could feel the blush blooming on her face and was sure everyone else could see it too. “Let’s all clap for Alastor! It’s always hard to be the first to volunteer.” She led the group in a polite round of applause. “Umm… where was I? Oh yeah! So what do guys think? Was that an example of harassment or consent?”

“I got weird vibes,” said Peppy. “I go with harassment.”

“Yeah, but he asked if he could kiss her first,” Heather pointed out.

“She didn’t seem to enjoy it.”

“I think she did.”

“It’s Alastor,” Angel chimed in. “All he does is harass people.”

Husk nodded in agreement. “I vote for harassment.”

As the group continued to debate, Charlie touched the spot on her cheek where the radio demon had kissed her. She glanced across the room to see him still tucked in his shadowy corner. He was watching her with an unreadable smile. When their eyes met, he looked away, pretending like he hadn’t just been staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh KeeKee, sometimes I envy your simple feline mind.”

Alastor had ducked out of the group activity early, not wanting to field any questions from his colleagues regarding his recent whereabouts. Nor did he want anyone to catch him riding the elevator like some kind of plebeian. He still didn’t have enough strength to teleport up the five flights of stairs to Charlie’s room.

He was entertaining himself by playing a game of whack-a-mole with the hotel cat. He’d pop a shadowy tendril out of the floor and watch as KeeKee tried to whack it before it dissipated. When she got frustrated and lost interest, he’d let her catch one and chew on it for a bit.

“KeeKee’s really warmed up to you.” Charlie stood in the doorway and bent over to pet the cat as she rubbed affectionately against her legs. “I’m surprised, considering you scare the unliving daylights out of most folks here.” With a queasy smile, she handed him a drippy paper bag.

Alastor rubbed his hands together gleefully and snatched his dinner. He rolled back the top of the bag and popped a few pieces of raw meat into his mouth.

The princess looked thoroughly repulsed. “It’s a bit concerning how many organ delivery services there are in hell.” She busied herself at her desk and picked up his exercise chart. “I saw you made some progress with your teleporting. Did you make it all the way down to the study in one go?”

“Not quite. Furthest I got was the end of the hallway. But slow progress is progress nonetheless, as you say.”

“And you came down for today’s lesson! Only took you an entire month. Seven if we’re counting from when you first got here.”

“Scary what boredom can make a man do.”

She clasped her hands together and twiddled her thumbs, looking like she had more to say. Alastor licked the blood from his fingers as he watched her nervously fidget.

“Why did you kiss me?” she suddenly blurted out.

He blinked twice, then started laughing. “My dear, you were the one who told me to improvise. I thought it was appropriate given the script.”

“It kinda wasn’t. Kinda ruined the entire point of the activity, actually. Everyone thought you were harassing me.”

His smile fell slightly. “I didn’t realize it was such an unpleasant experience for you. How foolish of me to have offered my assistance in the first place.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I-” Charlie sighed in frustration. “I do appreciate your help, Alastor. But not if you’re gonna be an ass and not take the work I’m doing seriously.”

His nostrils flared in annoyance. Sure, he had just been messing around. But it was a harmless peck on the cheek. Had she really been so abhorred by it? He had half a mind to do it again now just to piss her off even further.

“Well, sweatheart. I did tell you that I thought your silly little morality lessons were a waste of time,” he spat, feedback wavering in his tone. “So consider that my first and last one.”

Charlie glared at him, her eyes turning red. He waited for her to storm out of the room, or demand he leave, or lock herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Instead, she angrily strode towards him. It took Alastor by such surprise that he stumbled back and bumped against the desk. She leaned into his personal space, stepping between his legs and slamming her hand down on the desk to trap him there.

She cracked a smile.

“I know what you’re doing, Alastor. You’re freaking out about your powers. You’re freaking out because you needed someone’s help. You’re freaking out because I think deep down you actually like spending time with us all. So you try to cover it all up by acting like an annoying, pompous asshole. Well guess what? It’s. Not. Gonna. Work. On. Me. Mister.” She poked his chest to emphasis each word. Her face was so close, he could feel the heat of her breath on his neck. “See you at tomorrow’s group activity. One o’clock sharp.”

Alastor swallowed hard, eyes wide in bewilderment. He held up a finger and opened his mouth to retaliate with some witty comeback, but he was at a loss for words. Charlie stepped away and spun on her heels, humming cheerfully to herself.

He placed a hand on his chest. Beneath his fingertips, his heart was pounding.

“Hmph,” was all he said.

Chapter Text

The scarlet-streaked sky of the Pride ring seemed exceptionally bright today, though not as annoyingly bright as the smile on Charlie’s face as she marched her band of wayward sinners out the front doors of the hotel. Alastor let out a bored sigh as he lagged behind the group.

Angel Dust sniffed the air and made a face. “It smells like shit out here. Like, more than usual.”

“That’s the smell of friendship!” The princess exclaimed. “And fertilizer.” She motioned to the freshly dug plots of dirt that lined the front of the building. There was a table set up with an assortment of gardening tools – trowels, spades, shovels, gloves, and watering cans, to name a few. Next to that were several trays lined with tiny green plants.

Charlie clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Here at the Hazbin Hotel, it’s not just about your individual improvement. We’re a community, a family! We share in each other’s successes. We grow together. And what better way to grow together than to, well, grow something together!” She grabbed a trowel and brandished it proudly like a sword. “Today we’ll be starting not only the hotel’s but hell’s first ever community garden!”

Alastor’s grin widened with amusement as the princess rambled on about her rules for the garden. No burying bodies, no growing hallucinogenic plants, no sharpening any gardening tools into a shiv to shank your floormates with later on, yadda yadda. He was pleasantly surprised to hear the murmurs of excitement among the group. Perhaps they were just excited to have a break from listening to Charlie’s longwinded lectures about kindness, respect, and all those other silly virtues she valued so much.

As the sinners gathered their tools and pick their plots, Niffty ran up to the radio demon. She bounced excitedly between her tiny feet as she clutched a trowel in her hands.

“Bury me alive?!” she asked with a crazed smile.

The radio demon plucked the tool from her grip and patted her on the head. “Another time, my dear.” He watched her scurry off to terrorize some of the hotel guests.

“Look at you, ready to get your hands dirty!”

Alastor turned to see Charlie approach him, carrying a tray of plants. He looked down at the trowel in his hand, then threw it behind him. It hit Ted the lizard pervert on the head.

“Ow, what the fuck!” Ted rubbed his noggin. “Oo wait! I needed one of those.”

“No, no,” Alastor said to Charlie. “I’m just here to observe the chaos.”

“C’mon Al, you came all the way down here. Why not plant something?” She offered the tray to him. “A little dirt under your fingernails, the smell of freshly watered herbs, that satisfied feeling from actually seeing the fruits of your labor. It’ll be good for you!”

He rolled his eyes with a staticky hum. “Fiiiine.” As he raised his hand to snap his fingers, the princess quickly grasped his wrist. She lowered his arm.

“Nope, no powers. That’s one of the rules. We’re gonna do this the old-fashioned way!” She loosened a seedling from the tray and plopped it in his hand.

He narrowed his eyes. Few people acted so bold with him and survived the conversation with all of their limbs intact. Charlie was lucky he was indebted to her care and in the mood to indulge her.

Though lately he was rarely in the mood not to indulge her. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

Alastor found a spot of untouched dirt. He kicked at the dirt, still holding the seedling in his outstretched palm, as he contemplated what to do. The aroma of the plant suddenly caught his attention. He closed his eyes and inhaled it, feeling a rush of nostalgia hit him. Hot Louisiana nights with the windows open while dinner simmered on the stove. He thumbed the tag imbedded in the little plant’s container.

Thyme.

The radio demon’s smile softened. He wondered if Charlie remembered him listing off the ingredients for his mother’s jambalaya during his first night at the hotel. Had she purposefully picked this plant out for him?

He dug his heel into the ground to create a small hole, dropped the seedling in, then pushed the dirt around with his boot to cover it.

The sense of accomplishment the princess had promised wore off after a few seconds. “Now what?” Alastor asked out loud to himself.

He spotted Charlie a few plots over. She was down on her knees in the dirt, humming a melody as she jabbed her spade into the ground. Her jacket was discarded and dirt already speckled the rolled-up sleeves of her shirt. She bent over and carefully placed her plant into the hole she dug.

Alastor’s eyes widened. She had also removed her bowtie and the top few buttons of her shirt were undone. He could see right down it. Her chest was cradled by a blush pink brassiere, a few shades warmer than her pale skin tone. It had a delicate lace pattern and he could make out a tiny bow on the part that connected the two cups.

Charlie began pushing the dirt with her hands to fill in around the plant. It caused her arms to squish her breasts together, creating a deep line of cleavage.

A record player scratched inside his head. He continued to stare, unblinking and unable to tear his eyes away. Her skin looked like polished pearl, so soft and milky. Unblemished. He wondered what it would feel like to prick that skin with his claw, to watch the blood trickle over the curves of her chest and stain the dainty garment she wore red.

At his sides, his fingers began twitching. He clenched them into tight fists.

“What are you doing?”

A static shock jolted through the radio demon, sending his ears flat against his head. NO ONE got the jump on him and survived. He whipped around and, being without his cane, made fisticuffs at his accuser. He found Husk glaring at him, unamused.

“Nothing! I’m doing nothing. How dare you ever accuse me of doing anything!”

Husk swatted away his fist. “Then move. You’re standing in the middle of the flower bed. If you’re not gonna help, then get out of the way.”

Alastor hopped over the stone edging, then tapped his boots on the ground to knock off the excess dirt. He gave Husk a pat on the head. “Why don’t you grow us some mint, old chum? It’s been ages since I had a good mint julep.”

“Grow your own mint, asshole.”

Charlie was already undoing the bands in her hair as she entered her bedroom. “Hey Al, I’m gonna shower really quick and then I can help-” She stopped. The room was vacant, save for KeeKee curled up on her bed.

She scratched her head. She had just seen the radio demon a few hours ago. She figured he had come back up to their room – her room, she corrected herself – after the group activity.

Her brain was barraged with images of Alastor collapsed somewhere in a dark corner of the hotel, clutching his chest as he faded away into oblivion. Panic rose inside her. She rushed out the door, down the hallway-

-And right into Alastor himself.

“Oof!” she squeaked. “There you are! I was worried something bad happened to you.”

He caught her by the shoulders and gently pushed her back on her feet. Glancing down at his dress coat, he brushed off the dirt she had gotten on him.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” He tucked his hands behind his back. “After being up and about for most of the day today, I realize that I no longer need your assistance. My recovery has reached a point I’m satisfied with, so I’ll be retiring to my own room tonight.”

“Oh.” Charlie was surprised by the disappointment in her own voice. “O-Of course. I’m glad you’re feeling yourself again. I can come check on you later, if you like.”

He gave a flippant wave of his hand. “That won’t be necessary.”

There was an awkward pause between them. Charlie rubbed her arm. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” The radio demon hummed in affirmation, looking disinterested as he inspected his nails. Charlie frowned. Not knowing what else to say, she turned to head back to her room, alone.

“Charlie,” Alastor suddenly called out.

His unfiltered voice caught her by surprise. She spun around to face him, clutching her hands to her chest expectantly.

He considered her for a moment. “I’m quite thankful for all your help this past week. If not for you, I’d just be another formless, mindless entity floating around like all the other lost souls in hell.” He put a hand to his chest and gave a small bow. “I hate to admit it, my dear, but I am in your debt.”

She shook her head. “I told you before, Al. You don’t owe me anything. This is what friends do! They help each other.”

He chuckled lightheartedly. “Well, as your friend, I still insist I do something for you in return to properly express my gratitude.”

“Hmm.” She thought for a moment, then grinned. “How about you start attending the group activities on a regular basis and we call it even?”

He groaned behind a tight smile. “I was afraid you’d say that. Alright, princess. I’ll grace you with my presence once a week.”

“Mmm, no. You should really be showing face with our guests more. Let’s do five. You can have the weekends off.”

“Five?! That’s just excessive. I’m a very busy man, Charlie. I could perhaps manage two.”

“Four,” she shot back.

“Two and a half.”

“Three.”

“Two and a half,” he repeated.

“Two and you help my dad with Sunday pancakes.”

“Three it is!”

Charlie clapped excitedly, satisfied with the results of her haggling. Another stretch of silence passed between them, with neither moved from their spots in the middle of the hallway. She found herself not wanting to be the first to say goodbye.

It was silly. Alastor was still her business partner. And it wasn’t like he was going far away. It took five minutes to walk up to his radio tower. Then why did she feel so sad that he wouldn’t be staying with her anymore? The man annoyed her on his best days and made her question her entire existence on his worst. But she actually enjoyed spending time with him.

The radio demon stepped closer to her, his smile small, his eyes studying her. He brought his thumb to her face and gingerly brushed it across her cheek.

“Smudge of dirt,” he murmured.

“Oh.” She cupped her cheek, suddenly feeling very self-conscious that she was still grimy from her day out in the garden. “Thanks.”

He tucked his hands behind his back again and strode down the hallway towards the elevator.

“Goodnight, Alastor,” Charlie called after him.

Alastor stopped and peered over his shoulder at her. She couldn’t see his smile, just his eyes, and they almost looked… sad?

“Goodnight, Charlie,” he returned.

Alastor cracked open the door to his radio tower. The air was thick and musky, just the way he liked it. He snapped his fingers to illuminate the space in a warm, dim light from the candles and desk lamps stacked precariously among his belongings.

There was a splatter of blood on the floor, which he assumed to be his own from when he collapsed. Hmm. It actually complemented his decor quite nicely. He decided to leave it.

He sat down in front of the radio console, skimming his hand over the various buttons and dials. It felt good to be back in his own space and for his afterlife to return to some normalcy. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, feeling his fatigue from the day catch up with him. His mind was racing with thoughts about his powers, this hotel, his fellow overlords, all the work he had to do.

And about Charlie.

He rubbed his chest, trying to subdue the burning sensation that suddenly invaded it. He got up from his seat and headed towards the mirror he had propped up on a tower of books. After unbuttoning his shirt, he revealed his angelic scar. He had no clue why it kept bothering him. There was nothing particularly interesting about it. It looked like a normal scar. He had plenty of those.

His hand passed along the discolored gash, stopping when he noticed a set of marks near the middle of his chest. Five oblong shapes that looked like fingerprints.

Alastor spread out his palm to match his fingertips in each of the spots. He didn’t remember much from that feverish night when he almost died. But he did remember the sensation of Charlie’s hand pressed into his chest, like she was digging through skin and bone to grasp his heart.

His mouth muscles tugged at the corners of his smile, unable to break it. A strange sense of melancholy overcame him, and he found himself wishing that he was back with the princess in her bedroom. His radio tower suddenly felt incredibly lonely.

In the mirror’s reflection, he watched his shadow manifest on the wall behind him. It sneered coldly at him, its black tendrils stretching wide to snuff out the light in the room.

Alastor slammed the mirror down on top of the books. He’ll never regain his full powers if he allows himself such moments of weakness.

Chapter Text

“And it’s not my fault this bitch had cheap ass extensions that ripped right out of her hair! If I didn’t strangle her first, they probably would have wrapped around her neck when she was sleeping and choked her to death anyways.”

Charlie’s eyes watered as Heather the cheerleader killer yanked at her scalp. She thought playing hairdresser would be a great way to get the sinner to talk through some of her issues. All she discovered was that she was extremely tender-headed.

“She sounds like a real see-you-next-Tuesday,” said Angel Dust. He was scrolling on his phone with one pair of hands and holding the extra strands of Charlie’s hair with another.

The princess felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She took it out, and upon seeing who it was, fumbled it in her hands and dropped it. She grabbed it and scrambled to her feet, nearly pulling Heather and Angel off the loveseat with her.

“S-Sorry! I need to take this!”

Charlie hurried out into the hallway and ducked around the corner for some privacy. She took a deep breath, tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears, and answered the phone.

“Vaggie, oh my gosh!” she exclaimed. “It’s so good to hear from you!”

Vaggie’s face appeared on the screen. “Hey, Charlie.”

“How is this even possible? Are you calling me from heaven? Are they making inter-dimensional calling cards now?”

The angel laughed. “Sort of. We’re piloting this cross-realm communication channel. The connection will only last for a few minutes, so I have to make this quick.”

“Oh.” Charlie’s face fell. “Right, of course. What’s up?”

“So there’s been some discussion about how exactly your redeemed sinners are going to get into heaven. I mean in the literal sense. Pentious was killed and he just sorted of appeared here. And I don’t think murdering people when they’re ready to check out of the hotel is the best way to go about it.”

“I haven’t thought about that,” Charlie replied. “I guess I figured when people were redeemed, they’d just POOF!” She flicked out her fingers. “Get beamed up in a holy light or something.”

“I don’t think that’s what happens,” Vaggie said with an amused smile. “We’re not really sure how it works either, but in the meantime, the angelic council is proposing a grading system.”

“A grading system?”

“You’ll provide regular updates on each of your hotel guests based on a set of criteria that heaven determines. And once the council feels a sinner has scored high enough, they’ll be considered eligible for redemption.”

“And what does that mean exactly?”

“That heaven won’t kick their asses out if they actually do manage to make it up here.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Did Sera and the others actually say that?”

“I’m paraphrasing.” Vaggie rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I know all of this sounds ridiculous.”

“No!” Charlie waved her hands. “No, Vaggie. This is good! It’s a step in the right direction.”

“Great. We’ll send down the paperwork in a few days.”

An awkward silence fell between the two women.

“So-” “How-”

“Sorry, go ahead-” “You first-”

Both laughed.

“So how’s the hotel?” Vaggie asked.

Charlie grinned widely and immediately starting gushing. “Things are great here! We’re over half-capacity now. Got folks from all five corners of the city. There’s this adorable couple from Cannibal Town who are hoping to get redeemed together. Oh! Some boys from Carmilla’s warehouse are here too. And this lizard guy who I think has been stealing all the ladies’ underwear from the laundry room, but he’s pretty harmless besides that. Everyone’s working so hard. I’m really proud of them.”

Vaggie was nodding along encouragingly as the princess spoke. “That’s great, Charlie. I’m sorry I can’t be there to see it in person. Have you hired any more staff?”

“Haven’t needed to, actually. Alastor’s been covering most of the stuff you were doing.”

Vaggie frowned. “Alastor?”

“He’s really been stepping up lately.” Charlie wasn’t sure why she was so eager to jump to the radio demon’s defense. “I think the hotel is starting to rub off on him too.”

“Be careful, Charlie,” Vaggie warned.

“I know, I know. I can handle him, Vaggie. Honestly, he’s not as bad as he makes himself out to be. He can be-” She paused, searching for the right word. “Sweet… sometimes. Anyways, enough about all that. How are you doing? How’s heaven?”

“Things are good here. I’m… good.” Vaggie chewed on her lip, looking like she had more to say.

“That’s… umm… good.” Charlie’s fingers twiddled idly on the back of her phone. “So uhh, how’s Pen-”

“Charlie, I’m seeing someone,” Vaggie blurted out.

“Oh.” The princess felt her heart drop into her stomach. “That’s…” She forced a smile. “That’s great, Vaggie. Who is it?” Her eyes narrowed. “Please tell me it’s not Lute.”

The angel’s face scrunched in disgust. “Eww, Charlie. Fuck no. She’s… my sister, sort of? We were all made from Adam.”

“Like his ribs?”

“His ball hair, apparently.”

Charlie shuddered. “Who is it then? Anyone I know?”

“It’s… it’s Emily.”

“Oh.”

“We’ve been working together a lot. She’s one of the only people up here who believes in the work you’ve been doing. One thing led to another and…” Vaggie blushed, cupping her cheek with her hand. “I guess I have a type.”

“Oh Vaggie. I really am happy for you. For both of you. Imagine all the good you’ll do together up there!”

Vaggie smiled. “Thanks, Charlie.”

Charlie’s phone started beeping, flashing a red light over Vaggie’s face.

“Shit,” Vaggie cursed. “I think the connection is about to be cut. I’ll call you when th-” Her face disappeared like someone pulling the plug on a television. Charlie was left staring at her own reflection in the black screen of her phone.

It felt like there was a ball of lead in her gut. Her eyes stung with tears. She sucked in a deep breath and felt her bottom lip quiver.

The princess shook her head firmly, ruining the half-finished hairdo that Heather had given her. She and Vaggie were just friends now. They’ve been broken up for over a month. Vaggie could date whoever she wanted up in heaven! And besides, she still cared a lot for her ex-girlfriend and wanted her to be happy. Emily was wonderful. They were perfect for each other.

Charlie checked the time on her phone. It was nearly one o’clock. But she walked past the study, stepped in the elevator, headed to her room, flopped face first onto her bed, and cried into her pillow.

Alastor strode into the study, fashionably late to the group activity as was his style. He didn’t expect to see everyone lounging about, chattering amongst themselves, with Charlie nowhere in sight.

“It’s not like Charlie to be late to her own lesson,” said Husk.

“I literally just saw her,” replied Angel. “She had to take some important phone call and then disappeared.” He looked concerned. “I hope she’s okay.”

Husk noticed Alastor lurking in the corner. He nodded at him to get his attention. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Charlie lately. Any idea where she is?”

The radio demon shrugged. “Haven’t seen her all day. But I suppose as second-in-command of this fine establishment, it’s my duty to go and fetch her.”

“No.” Angel got up from his seat before Alastor could snap his fingers and disappear. “If Charlie’s upset, you’re the last person she’s gonna want to see. I’ll go find her.”

Alastor let out a grumbly huff of static, causing Husk to give him a funny look. “What are you looking at, fuzzball?” he snapped. Husk put up his hands in defense and sunk back into his chair.

The radio demon surveyed the herd of wayward sinners. He claps his hands, sending out a wave of magic that sucked the sound out of the room. Everyone looked at him, some of them confused, some of them annoyed, some of them trembling in fear.

He bared his teeth in a wide grin. “Who wants to play charades?”

“Oo! Me! Me me me!” Niffty waved her hand enthusiastically.

“Where’s Charlie?” asked Ted the lizard pervert. “She said we were gonna watch a movie today.”

“Our fearless leader is preoccupied at the moment,” Alastor replied. “So I’ll be taking over for today’s activity.”

Ted pouted. “Can we still make popcorn?”

“Charades is dumb. What would we even learn from that?” Heather asked.

“Hmm.” Alastor tapped his chin. “In my experience, charades usually ends in a bloodbath. So consider this a lesson in not killing each other!”

“What do we get if we win?” asked Peppy the adulterer.

“An ounce of self-respect that you lot so desperately need.”

Heather crossed her arms. “Charlie gives us stickers. And coupons for free froyo.”

Ted raised his hand. “Can I be the thimble?”

Alastor’s smile stretched thin and his eye began to twitch. On the wall behind him, he could sense his shadow snickering. He exhaled out his nose to temper his annoyance.

The things he does for this hotel.

The things he does for Charlie.

Charlie stirred awake but refused to open her eyes. Her head was pounding. Her stomach felt queasy. She rolled over and pulled her blanket above her head, determined to sleep until she didn’t feel like utter shit anymore. She felt her bed compress with the weight of someone sitting down.

“Good moooorning, Charlie,” Alastor sang.

She groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The radio demon had spent so much time in her room recently that it didn’t even phase her to see him in here again. “What time is it?”

“Time for a certain princess to get her sad pathetic self out of bed and run her hotel.”

She grumbled at him and grabbed her phone off the nightstand. It was almost ten in the morning. She looked around the room to see the discarded pizza boxes, empty ice cream containers, and several half-finished bottles of cheap wine. No wonder she felt like she was gonna puke.

“Quite the party you had in here last night,” Alastor mused. He picked a piece of pineapple pizza off the floor and gave it a curious sniff. “I’m offended I wasn’t invited.”

Charlie recalled Angel coming in to check on her, telling him about her phone call with Vaggie, and that turning into them ordering takeout and having an all-night vent session.

The radio demon crossed his legs and leaned back on her bed. “I must ask, what has you so out of sorts?”

She rubbed her temples as she tried to subdue the pounding in her skull. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Even if her head didn’t feel like it was about to split open, she didn’t want to discuss her love life with Alastor. He seemed wholly disinterested the last time she vented to him about Vaggie. And now it felt… too weird, for some reason.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He waved his fingers and a glass of water appeared in his hands, which he handed to her.

Charlie gratefully accepted it and took a deep gulp. “What do you do when every time you think about something, it just makes you want to cry?”

“Can’t say I ever had that problem,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you haven’t.”

He held up a finger, signaling to let him finish. “But I do know that all we can do each morning is slap on a smile, face the new day, and put one foot in front of the other.” He playfully knocked his boot against her leg. “Or hooves, in our case.”

“Huh. That’s actually good advice.” She smiled at him.

Alastor leaned in and booped her on the nose. “That’s it. Just like that.” He slapped his knees and stood up. “Now then! I asked Niffty to rearrange the meal schedule for today, so she’ll be serving brunch in an hour. I also took it upon myself to cancel today’s group activity. Told everyone to go read one of those silly self-help books of yours.”

“Thanks for that, Al.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you being so sweet all of a sudden?”

“Sweet?” He scoffed and flicked his hand at her dismissively. “Oh please, Charlie. I’m not a pastry. I’m simply filling in for you while you have this pathetic little episode of self-pity and despair.”

Normally he’d say something like that to get on her nerves, but she just wrinkled her nose at him in amusement. “At least I’m not the one who spent three weeks alone in his radio tower while his body slowly rotted away.”

Alastor looked surprised at her comeback, then let out a sincere laugh. “Touché, my dear.” His grin widened before he disappeared into a shadowy black haze.

Charlie made herself presentable and headed down to the kitchen, where she found most of the hotel residents laughing and chatting as they sipped their coffees and orange juices. Husk was teaching the Cannibal Town folks how to lay out cards for solitaire. Heather was showing off her nails to some of the other female guests. Peppy was telling Ted a story about his kids. Even Alastor had turned up. He was balancing a set of plates on his arms while Niffty hurled eggs and sausages onto them with her spatula. The princess smiled and wiped at her eyes, which stung with the threat of tears. She needed this reminder of why she was here.

Angel Dust waved to her and patted the stool next to him. She sat and a plate of food placed itself in front of her. Alastor took a seat at the opposite end of the counter, the carafe of coffee floating behind him as it poured into his mug. He took a sip and lazily waved his hand. Cutlery danced out of the drawers and landed next to everyone’s plates.

Charlie rested her chin on her hand and watched him with a smile. She didn’t care what he said. She liked seeing this side of him. The sweet side. When he caught her staring, she quickly averted her gaze.

“M'how are you feefin’?” Angel asked with a mouthful of eggs.

“Better. Thanks for last night. It helped.” She sighed and pushed the food around on her plate, still feeling a little nauseous.

“I’m sorry toots. It’s always tough to find out your ex is shacking up with someone else.” Angel patted her shoulder. “You know what will make you feel better? Getting laid. I got some friends who would love to get a piece of that ass. I could set you up on a few blind dates, if you-”

There was a sudden clatter of metal. Everyone looked down the counter to see that Alastor had snapped his fork in half. Both pieces hit his plate and scattered eggs everywhere. The dials in his eyes glowed red for a moment, then he blinked and was back to normal.

“Whoopsie! It seems I was a little too enthusiastic about your eggs this morning, Niffty dear.” He snapped his fingers and the fork reappeared in his hand. He continued eating his breakfast like nothing happened.

Charlie turned back to Angel. “N-No, that’s okay. I’m fine, really.”

“Oookay, but you don’t know what you’re missing out on. I know this one gal named Pussy-footin’ Polly and you won’t believe the kinda shit she can do with her toes…”

Charlie laughed nervously. “I’m sure she’s, err, very talented.” Something compelled her to look back at Alastor, but when she did, she saw that he was gone. Just his half-eaten plate of food was left on the counter.

Alastor stumbled into his radio console as he materialized back in his room. His breath came in ragged bursts, causing the lights around him to flicker. Teleporting all the way from the kitchen in one go was too far. He had pushed the limits of his power.

His claws ripped ribbons into the metal. He was burning with rage. What’s worst, he had no idea why. One minute, he was enjoying breakfast – Niffty had undercooked the sausages just the way he liked them – and the next he was overwhelmed with the desire to kill everyone in the room.

He was cooped up. That was it. It’s been weeks since he stepped more than a few feet outside of the hotel. He was like a bird with an injured wing, trapped in its cage. Unable to fly away, even if the cage was opened. You keep a wounded creature sheltered for long enough and they lose all instinct. Forget how to take care of themselves. The sanctuary you created for them becomes a prison.

Is this what Charlie was doing to him?

Charlie.

Rage flared in his chest again. No, not rage. Contempt. Not contempt either. Annoyance? No. He didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that he needed to get the hell out of this hotel before he went so stir-crazy that he reduced the entire place to rubble.

A walk. A walk would clear his head.

He slinked his way down to the first floor and disappeared out the doors without anyone seeing him. As he passed the community garden, he saw a shark demon ducking down behind some shrubs as he buried something in the dirt. He must be one of Vox’s cronies. Without missing a step, Alastor speared him through the heart with a shadowy tendril.

That made him feel a little better.

Chapter Text

Another day, another moral lesson to be had through whatever silly game Charlie had concocted. Today’s activity was about… pushing someone into oncoming traffic? Or subjecting them to torture in a Rube-Goldberg-esque labyrinth? Alastor wasn’t sure. The princess had littered the lobby with various orange cones, ropes, buckets, broom handles, and other bits and bobs she must have gathered from around the hotel.

The radio demon was only half listening as she explained the rules. Partner up. Obstacle course. Something about blindfolds. He watched as the hotel guests gathered in pairs. The couple from Cannibal Town always stuck together. Heather clung to whatever insecure pea-brained floosy was giving her attention that week. Peppy liked to hang with Carmilla’s warehouse crew. Frank the egg boy was here for some reason, and Ted was eyeing him up like an afternoon snack.

Alastor waited patiently while Charlie handed out the last of the blindfolds. As the pairs of participants began splitting off, he strutted towards her.

“What do you say, my dear? Do you trust me to be your guiding-” He stopped abruptly when she turned away from him, not even realizing he had been approaching her. She called after Niffty, who’s giggles were muffled as she wrapped the blindfold around and around her head. Charlie bent down to stop her before she asphyxiated herself, then began to show her how to properly tie the blindfold.

The radio demon let out a disappointed “hmph”, immediately losing interest in the activity. Just as he was about to slink into the shadows and watch these fools blindly bumble around the lobby, he heard someone chuckling behind him.

“What’s the matter? Charlie isn’t paying attention to you so now you’re gonna go sulk in your dank little corner?” It was Husk.

Alastor twisted his neck to glare at the puny cat man, his black gums showing as his smile turned snarlish. “I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re going on about.”

“Uh huh. Sure you don’t, boss.”

He narrowed his eyes as he dissipated into smoke, abandoning the activity altogether. He reappeared a moment later in front of the elevators and pressed the button to head up towards his radio tower. The arrows above it indicated it was already on its way down. The doors opened, and before Alastor could step in, Lucifer stepped out.

“Oh hello shit lord,” Lucifer spat.

“Name calling. What a mature thing for the king of hell to do.” Alastor tried to shove past him, but the large box he was carrying blocked the way.

“Watch it!” Lucifer stumbled back and nearly dropped the box. “Geeze, you’re like a big gangly moose. Smelly like one too. And ugly.”

Alastor ignored his insults and flicked the lid of the box. “Moving out, I see? Oh, what a treat! We can finally take down all this tacky apple decor.”

Lucifer hugged the box to his chest. “I’ll have you know this is a very important package from heaven for my very important daughter!”

“It’s for Charlie? In that case, let me take it for you.” Alastor put his hands on the box. “I was just on my way to see her. We run the group activities together, you see. Always eager for an opportunity to collaborate with me, that one.” He tugged.

Lucifer tugged back. “You’re so full of shit. Charlie runs those things completely on her own.”

“And as her business partner and close friend, I am right by her side to encourage her.” Alastor tugged.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she loves smelling your rank breath over her shoulder all the time.” Lucifer tugged.

“I’m surprised you haven’t tripped and broken your neck, considering you can’t even see over this thing.” Alastor tugged.

“Why are you even using the elevator? You’re usually floating around where ever you please like a fart on roller-skates.” Lucifer gave one final tug and ripped the box from Alastor’s grasp. With a smug grin, he marched towards the foyer.

Green haze fizzled around the radio demon as he fumed. He put his foot in the elevator threshold to keep the door from closing, then after thinking for a moment, removed it. He's had enough of this place for the day. Stunted powers be damned, he was going out to terrorize some unsuspecting sinners.

“Five out of ten? Maybe a six? Is that too generous? Shit, I don’t know.”

Charlie ran her hand through her already frazzled hair as she chewed on her pen. She was sitting cross-legged on the study’s loveseat with paperwork scattered all around her. With a jittery hand, she reached for what was her third or fourth or maybe twentieth cup of coffee that night.

Heaven had delivered the “sinner evaluation forms”, as they were titled at the top of each packet. The princess had been excited at first to put on paper how much her hotel guests have progressed. But each evaluation form was over ten pages long and heaven was expecting a full report of every sinner at her hotel by the follow morning. She’s been at it since lunch and still hadn’t even hit the halfway point yet.

“Why do they even need to know the last time someone brushed their teeth? What does that have to do with anything?!” She flopped back on the loveseat in frustration, sending papers flying everywhere.

“I see you’re having another one of your manic productivity sessions. You know it’s nearly the witching hour, my dear.”

Charlie looked up to see Alastor standing in the doorframe, arms behind his back as he peered down at her through his monocle.

“Where have you been?” she asked as she gathered up her papers strewn about.

“Out,” he said with finality, clearly not wanting to elaborate. He took a few steps into the room and looked around with a curious hum. The lights were dimmed low and a fire was crackling in the fireplace. A nutty aroma of coffee lingered in the air from an urn brewing in the corner. “This room seems much more studious when it’s not filled with pathetic lost souls prattling on about their feelings.”

“That’s not exactly how I’d put it but I do agree. I like to come here to get work done when I know I’ll be by myself.”

“Well, don’t let me disturb you then.” Alastor didn’t leave, instead walking towards the fireplace and putting his hand up to the flame. He peered over Charlie’s shoulder. “What is it you’re doing?”

“These are the grading sheets from heaven I told you about.”

“Are they as trifle as one would expect from those paper-pushing bible jockeys?” He summoned one to his hand, gave a quick flip through the pages, then tossed it back on the pile.

“Yes, actually. Vaggie warned me it was total bullshit but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.” She rubbed her tired eyes. “And heaven’s expecting a full report by this morning! Can you believe that?! Not to mention our next recruitment party is tomorrow night and that’s gonna bring in a bunch more tenants, which means even more paperwork. Not that that’s a bad thing but-” She threw up her hands with a loud groan. “I don’t know how they expect us to keep up with all this. It feels like we’re being set up for failure!”

The radio demon considered her for a moment and then shrugged. “Alright.”

She gave him a funny look. “Alright?”

He flipped out the tail of his dress coat and sat down next to her. “Clearly you’re distressed and in need of assistance. And if you have another meltdown in front of the tenants, you’ll probably scare them away for good.” He tapped his chin. “Though I suppose that is another way to solve your dilemma.”

“No offense Al, but you don’t really know any of the hotel guests all that well. Not enough to write a fair evaluation of their progress.”

“Hmm. A valid point.” He flourished his fingers and a fountain pen materialized between them. “You dictate, I’ll scribe. I’m from the age of analog, my dear. I’m quite the fast writer.”

Charlie thought for a moment, then nodded. The cramp in her hand and strain on her eyes could use a break. And the work would go twice as fast with Alastor helping. She hopped up from her seat with renewed energy.

“Coffee?”

“If you please. Black.”

“I know,” she said with a smile. She poured him a cup and handed it to him, their fingers brushing as he took it from her. Her heart thumbed loudly inside her chest.

Maybe she should lay off the caffeine for the rest of the night.

Charlie was awoken by the sound of her own snores. That always happened when she fell asleep sitting up. She stretched and rubbed the stiffness in her neck, realizing she was still in the study. The fire had gone out and there was a chill in the room, so she snuggled under the blanket draped over her. It was kind of small for a blanket, and when she took a closer look, she realized it wasn’t a blanket at all.

It was Alastor’s dress coat.

Did he drape this over her when she fell asleep?

She looked down at the coffee table, where the evaluation forms were completed and neatly stacked in a pile. Next to them was a cup of coffee, glowing green at the bottom to keep it perpetually warm.

Charlie snuggled under the dress coat. It smelled like Alastor. A mix of heavy incense and that strange sweet smell meat gets right before it goes bad. She used to find it a bit nauseating but now she didn’t mind it as much.

In fact, she kind of liked it.

She found herself liking a lot of things about Alastor lately. It almost seemed like he was going out of his way to be nice to her. Helping her with the oodles of hotel paperwork that kept piling up. Participating in the group activities, even if he still didn’t take them seriously. These little favors, like bringing her coffee after an all-nighter.

She knew when it came to the radio demon, there was always a catch. Maybe he was still in denial about needed her help and was just acting nice until he did enough to mend his wounded pride. Maybe he was accumulating all these good deeds to cash in at a later date. Maybe he was just sweetening her up so when he did eventually abandon the hotel, it would hurt her that much more. She wasn’t a fool. She knew to be wary of him.

But sometimes when she’d see his eyes soften and his smile turned sincere, it felt like she was getting a peek of the man he could be, or maybe the man he used to be, or maybe the man he’s always been and she’s just never noticed.

Alastor really did have a nice smile, when it was genuine.

Charlie felt her heart start to flutter. She clutched the dress coat closer to her chest.

Did she…?

She shook away the thought before it could manifest and hopped up from the loveseat. She needed to send these forms back to heaven.

Tap tap tap-tap.

Alastor cracked open an eye. He had been conducting along to one of his favorite hellish records, a particularly catchy melody of saxophones and someone getting their head severed with piano wire, when he was so rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. With a staticky hum of annoyance, he got up to answer it.

Charlie gave a tiny wave from the other side. “Hey Al, I’ve come to return this.” She held out his dress coat. “Thanks for, umm… lending it to me. Sorry for falling asleep in the middle of doing paperwork.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Again.”

Alastor slung the garment over his arm with an amused grin. “You certainly have a funny habit of doing that. Not to worry, my dear. We were close to finishing by the time you dozed off. I did my best to decipher your sleep-deprived, incoherent ramblings.”

“Well, hopefully it all makes sense to heaven. I sent the evaluations forms off to them this morning. Let’s see what they have to say about our first batch of sinners!”

“I’m sure their feedback will be insightful and completely non-biased,” he replied sarcastically.

The princess stood in the doorway a moment longer, rolling back and forth on her heels as she whistled a few notes. Alastor grasped the edge of the door with the intention of shutting it, but he made no motion to do so.

“Would you… like to come in?” he asked. “I was just listening to some records and thinking of conjuring up a nice hot cider and whiskey. Could make it two. Sans alcohol if that’s what you prefer.”

“Oh.” Charlie looked surprised by his offer. “N-No, that’s okay. I need to get going.”

A pang of disappointment twinged in his chest. “Suit yourself,” he said flatly as he began to close the door.

“If it was any other night, I would,” she responded quickly. “But we have the recruitment party tonight. I need to start getting things ready for it.”

That was right. She did mention that silly little soiree was tonight.

“You could… come… if you want.” The princess looked uncertain for a moment, then puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips. “In fact, as co-host of this hotel, it’s one of your responsibilities to ensure our recruitment efforts are a success. I insist you come.”

The radio demon’s grin widened and he leaned down to be eye level with her. “You insist, eh?”

She poked playfully at his chest. “And you can’t use the excuse this time that you’re dying a slow and painful death.”

“Hmm. I suppose if these repentant ragamuffins can survive a night with me, they’ll survive the torture you put them through in this hotel.” He shrugged. “Alright. I’ll come.”

She clapped excitedly and linked her arm with his, dragging him towards the elevator. It was much easier now to teleport down to the foyer in two or three goes, but for whatever reason, Alastor let Charlie take him the long way.

The preparations for the recruitment party were a pitiful sight. Angel Dust and Niffty were taping limp, half-filled balloons to the walls. Razzle was attempting to hang a sign above the threshold that read “WELCUM 2 UR NEW HOLE HOMO HOTDOG HOME”. Husk was passed out at the bar, his drool trailing along the grooves of the counter. A few of their existing guests were down here too, and none of them seemed to know what to do with themselves.

“Everything looks great, guys!” Charlie exclaimed, and Alastor was sure she meant it. “Niffty, do you think we have enough cheese and crackers for tonight?”

The radio demon started chuckling under his breath. She turned and gave him a look. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Charlie, I’ve seen hobo camps under abandoned piers with more pizazz that this.” He waved his hand, green sparks dancing between his fingers. “May I?”

She crossed her arms. “Okay, but nothing weird. Or scary. Or anything involving rotten flesh.”

Baring his teeth, Alastor flung out his hands and let his magic engulf the room. The typo-ridden banner stretched into a gold and red tapestry, emblazed with the words Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! The balloons expanded and multiplied, forming a large arc to frame the double staircase. Sparkly garland hung itself on the walls and vases of flowers erupted from the floor. A dozen or so of his minions manifested from the shadows, dressed in their best black-tie attire and carrying trays of various finger foods and drinks. Husk shot awake when a sound like a glissando on a glockenspiel played behind him. His bar had been restocked with only the finest top shelf spirits.

Alastor plucked a prawn pâté off the tray of a passing waiter and swallowed it in one bite. “So what do you think?”

Charlie had her hands squeezed against her cheeks as she spun around the room, taking everything in. She grasped his arm and hopped up and down in excitement. “This. Is. Amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He grinned down at her, feeling immensely satisfied with her reaction. Clerical work was one thing, but it was about time he reminded the princess why she needed him – more specifically, his powers – at the hotel. Something warm bloomed in his chest. He must just feel good to regain a bit of control back in their dynamic.

As the festivities commenced, the radio demon did his duties as a good host and mingled among the potential hotel guests. Though that proved to be more counterintuitive than not, as upon seeing him approach, five of them turned tail and sprinted back out the door, three of them passed out and had to be dragged outside by Niffty so they didn’t clutter up the entryway, and one of them wet their pants and collapsed to the ground in the fetal position.

Alastor was currently lurking near the bar, drink in hand, as Charlie approached him with a stack of papers in her arms.

“Nearly everyone you didn’t scare off filled out an application, so I call that a success!”

He sipped from the straw in his glass. “Whether they’re brave or foolish for that remains to be seen.”

She rolled her eyes and placed the papers on the bar counter. “What are you drinking?”

“Mint julep. With fresh mint grown by our own merry band of sinners.”

“Really?!” Charlie cracked a wide smile. “From our community garden? That’s so cool!”

“Would you like one?” Alastor slapped his hand on the bar counter. “Husker, my good man! Fix the lady a drink.”

“No, that’s okay,” she replied. “I still have to give my big talk about the hotel. Probably shouldn’t be tipsy for that.”

“Are you sure? It’s quite the refresher. Like sitting in the shade under a magnolia on a hot summer day.” Alastor caught the straw between two fingers and moved it around the glass towards Charlie. He lifted it to her lips. “Have a taste.”

She leaned in close and wrapped her lips around the straw. Her face scrunched, then brightened. “That’s actually pretty good!”

Alastor’s grin widened. He jiggled the glass to move the straw back to his side and took a sip himself, then offered it to her again. She waved her hand to politely decline.

“Almost speech time. Wish me luck!”

“Break a leg, my dear. Preferably someone else’s.” He watched as she disappeared into the throng of sinners.

“What are you doing?”

Alastor snapped his head to look at Husk. “Right now? Trying to enjoy this lovely cocktail you mixed for me.”

Husk slapped his bar rag down on the counter. “With Charlie. I see how you’ve been acting around her lately. The way you’ve been looking at her.”

Alastor set his drink down and turn to face the fuzzy little bartender. “And what way is that, exactly?”

“You tried that weird daddy shit but Lucifer shut that down real quick. And now that Vaggie’s gone, you thought you’d take her place instead?”

The radio demon cocked an eyebrow. “Honestly, Husker. I don’t understand half the nonsense you drunkenly babble at me.”

“All the fucking around and gaslighting is one thing. The maiming and killing is another. But messing with that girl’s heart? That’s low. Even for someone like you, Alastor.”

Anger simmered inside Alastor as he dug his claws into the bar counter. His body stretched, rising several feet above Husk. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse me of,” he threatened, his voice a demonic modulation. “But I suggest you watch your mouth.”

Husk didn’t flinch, staring up defiantly at the radio demon. He suddenly sighed and shook his head. “Who am I kidding. You really have no fucking clue what you’re doing, do you?”

Alastor returned to normal size, then grabbed his drink. He finished it in one gulp and slammed the glass down on the bar, cracking the bottom of it. “Nice chat as always, old chum.”

His mood soured, he tucked himself in an isolated corner of the foyer. A waiter walked by and he snatched a flute of champagne, wiggling his fingers to transform it into something a little stronger. He was about to just call it a night and head back up to his radio tower when he spotted Charlie approaching the podium for her speech. She looked his way and gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. He felt his smile reach his eyes and he tipped his drink to her in acknowledgement.

Alastor then rubbed his chest, which was suddenly burning. That last sip of alcohol must have gone down wrong. He looked down at his glass, then back up at Charlie.

What was he doing?

Chapter Text

Alastor hummed a cheery tune as he headed past the lobby. He was in a good mood. It had been a quiet day in the hotel, though most of the tenants on his floor wouldn’t dare make a peep when they knew he was in his radio tower. After a productive morning, he spent most of the afternoon sipping brandy and replaying his personal favorites among his own demonic broadcasts. Now he was on his way to Cannibal Town for a nice treat. A few finger snacks from the butcher shop. Maybe a leg if he’s feeling peckish.

“We can’t let her see this, it’ll totally devastate her.”

“What can we do? It’s gonna be all over Sinstagram by tomorrow morning!”

“Can’t you ask your boss to talk to the other Vee’s about it?”

“Yeah right, like Val will ever do anything to help this place.”

The radio demon’s ears twitched at the hushed whispers coming from the lounge area.

“Yo smiley! Get over here!”

An annoyed rush of feedback escaped him. So much for his good mood. He cracked his neck around to see Angel Dust’s head sticking up from behind the couch. He was there with Husk and Niffty.

“What is it?” Alastor snapped.

“Just get over here. You need to see something.”

“I have no interest in whatever perverse peep show you’ve got playing on your little pocket screen.”

Husk pointed to the television. “They just aired a smear ad about the hotel.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “And what exactly are they smearing on the hotel? I’m not the janitor, Husker. Why don’t you get a bucket and some sponges and help dear Niffty here take care of it.”

“He means they’re talking shit,” Angel said. “More about Charlie than the hotel, actually.” He nodded to Husk, who was holding the remote, to unpause the television.

An aerial shot of the hotel was displayed. The color faded to black and white, then a giant red X appeared over it.

The Hazbin Hotel. A beacon of hope for sinners? Or a total SCAAAAAM?

An unflattering candid picture of Charlie appeared. She was crouched in front of the refrigerator in her pajamas and shoveling handfuls of shredded cheese into her mouth. It looked like it was taken from outside the kitchen window.

Charlotte Morningstar has never had a real job in her life! What does she know about running a hotel? The princess says she wants to redeem sinners, but look how she treats the people she claims to care about!

Another image of Charlie, this time in Cannibal Town. It was from the day Alastor took her there. How did they get that footage?

“Fuck you, you old bitch!”

Next was a shot of Susan. She was talking into a reporter’s microphone.

“Yeah, that little harlot [HURT MY FEELINGS] and told me I was a [BITTER, OLD, UGLY, SAGGY-TITTED HAG]. Then she [KICKED A PUPPY].”

The audio was obviously cut and dubbed over. Susan was actually quite fond of Charlie now.

Does hell’s number one nepo baby really want to help her people? Or is she just trying to get rid of us so there’s room for daddy to build her another theme park?

A picture of Lu Lu World appeared with Charlie’s head superimposed on a baby’s body. Waterfalls of tears poured from her eyes, accompanied by the shrill sound of crying.

Don’t trust your future in the hands of this out-of-touch, silver-spoon-sucking, royal cuntbag!

A crude animation played next. Charlie was wearing a poofy royal dress and had her head under a guillotine. The blade fell and her head popped off to the sound of a goat screaming.

Say NO to redemption! Say NO to the Hazbin Hotel! (This ad was brought to you by VoxTek and paid for by some guy whose credit card we stole. Haha, sucker!)

“Shit, that was way worse that I thought,” groaned Angel as he shook his head.

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Husk agreed.

Niffty had her knees pulled up to her chest and looked like she was about to cry. “Why are they being so mean to Charlie?”

Alastor’s hands were clenched so tightly into fists, his nails sliced into his palms. His smile was stretched across his face in nearly a straight line. “Has Charlie seen this?”

“Don’t think so,” Angel replied. “This is the first time it’s airing. I overheard Val talking about it today.”

The dark aura surrounding the radio demon was dampening all the light in the room. He couldn’t contain his rage. A shadowy tendril shot out and impaled the TV. Around them the lamps flickered, then went out completely.

“Make sure she doesn’t,” he said firmly before turning on his heels and storming towards the exit.

Angel and Husk shared a concerned look. “Where are you going?” asked Angel.

“To file a grievance with our cable company.”

“Sir, do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t need an appointment.”

“Everyone needs a-” The receptionist demon clammed up when she saw who was looming over her desk.

Alastor’s grin widened menacingly. He leaned over the glass barrier separating them and tapped a claw on her intercom system. “Tell your boss that an old friend is here for a chat.”

With trembling hands, she picked up the phone. “S-Sir… the… the radio demon is here t-to see y-you.”

Alastor looked around in disdain. VoxTek Enterprises. Nearly every inch of the walls were covered in screens so bright, they made your eyes bleed. Any spots that were bare were plastered with an ad for this, that, or the other useless gadget. He could hear the mechanical whirrs of the security cameras realigning to focus on him. This was quite possibly his least favorite place in all of hell. He hoped he would never have to step foot in this ugly fortress of corporate greed and technological abominations ever again. And yet here he was.

There was a distant sound of crashing and cursing, then the doors behind the reception desk burst open to reveal Vox. The television demon was out of breath and disheveled. He quickly composed himself, then straightened his bowtie as he strutted confidently towards his unexpected guest.

“Aaaalastor!” he welcomed. “Last I saw you, you were getting your ass beat by some fat drunk angel. To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“You know exactly why I’m here,” the radio demon replied tersely.

“I honestly don’t.” Vox motioned towards the door. “Why don’t we go into my office so we can chat? Would you like something to drink? Still a whiskey guy? How about some rat poison so you can do us all a favor and fucking die?”

Static rumbled irritably in Alastor’s throat as he followed Vox into the room. He made a fuss of dusting off the seat before sitting down opposite Vox’s desk.

“Earlier today your company aired a negative advertisement about our hotel,” he started.

The television demon raised a glitchy eyebrow. “Since when do you watch TV? And why do you even care? Isn’t that place just a big joke to you? I figured you of all people would get a laugh out of it.”

“Under different circumstances, perhaps,” Alastor replied. “But not when your attack is more directed at the hotel’s owner rather than the hotel itself.”

Vox smirked. “Well, it’s not my fault Lucifer’s bimbo daughter makes herself such an easy target.”

Alastor’s smile tensed. “Whatever old beef we have is between us. Leave Charlotte Morningstar out of it.”

“What, did the princess come crying to her mangy guard dog about the big bad TV man who was saying mean stuff about her?” Vox make a pouty face and then starting laughing.

“Your amateur slideshow was fill with nothing but boldfaced lies and propaganda. Honestly, Vox, I thought someone like you would have more journalistic integrity.”

“Oh please. Haven’t you heard of freedom of speech?” The television demon leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. “If Princess Morningstar is so upset about my ad, she can come down here and talk to me herself. In fact, I encourage her to! Maybe I can teach her a few things about business management so she doesn’t run that stupid hotel of hers into the ground for a second time.”

Alastor shot to his feet and lunged over the desk, inexplicable rage suddenly taking hold of him. His neck stretched like an accordion and his face contorted in a demonic screech. “SHE IS NOT YOURS TO CORRUPT!!”

“Geeze!” Vox fell back in his chair, nearly crashing to the ground. “Struck a nerve there, did I?”

The radio demon shrunk back to normal and exhaled out his nose to calm himself. Vox annoyed him, sure, but he didn’t expect to completely lose his cool like that. He had just forgotten how utterly insufferable his ex-associate could be.

“Take down the advertisement. I won’t ask again.”

Vox rose up to challenge him, sparks igniting around his fists. “Fucking make me, you prick.”

Alastor looked over Vox’s shoulder at the sharks in his tank, whose red eyes glowed menacingly. He could sense every camera in the room on him and knew there were drones patrolling each corner of VoxTek Enterprises. He was still in no shape to take on another overlord, let alone Vox on his home turf with an arsenal of technology to assist him. He had learned a painful lesson in his fight with Adam about letting his pride overestimate his abilities. He wasn’t about to repeat that mistake.

The radio demon sat back down in his chair. “We can sort this out now, you and me, or I can get Lucifer to come down here so you can personally explain to him why you think defaming his daughter is quality entertainment for your viewers.”

Vox’s screen paled. “You wouldn’t. Lucifer doesn’t mettle in overlord business.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll make an exception seeing as how the princess is involved. Would be a shame to see a nice big cease-and-desist notice taped to your door.”

Vox scowled, his screen glitching in anger. He threw his hands up in resignation. “Fine. I’ll cut the ad.”

“Splendid!” Alastor clapped his hands. “I’ll have that whiskey now, if you don’t mind.”

“Fuck you. Get out of my office.”

“Shit, who keeps shedding in the hallway?!” Charlie nearly tripped over a pile of scaly skin as she navigated down the dark corridor, with only the tiny flame she conjured in her palm as a light source.

The electricity had been out in the hotel for a few hours and she had an inkling who the culprit was. This happened on occasion whenever Alastor got pissed about something. Once his tantrum was over, the power would usually come back on. So he was either really upset or was just being an ass. Either way, she was going to confront him about it.

The princess knocked on the door to his radio tower, but there was no answer. She grumbled under her breath, in no mood to play games with him. Feeling emboldened, she barged right in, but found an empty space. He wasn’t here.

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room. It was getting pretty late and Alastor would probably be back from where ever he was soon. She might as well just wait for him. The princess leaned against the armrest of his chair. Her eyes scanned over the various knobs and sliders on his radio console, landing on a worn-out book that was stacked on top of some loose wires and sheet music. Curious about Alastor’s taste in literature, Charlie picked it up. It was a repair manual for radiators. Huh. An odd reading choice, even for someone as peculiar as the radio demon. The hotel didn’t even have radiators.

Something was sticking out between the pages of the book. She opened it and saw that an old faded photograph was tucked inside. Her eyes widened. It was of Alastor. When he was human.

There was a woman with him. The shape of her eyes and curve of her smile were nearly identical to Alastor’s, and Charlie assumed it was his mother. She was very pretty, but looked tired. And a bit sad. She had her arm linked with her son’s and leaned against his shoulder. Her hair was tied up in a kerchief with a few curly bits that had fallen out and framed her face.

Alastor himself looked young, maybe in his mid-20s. He was dressed much less formal than he dresses now, in just a plain button-up shirt and a worn house sweater. He had the same upturned nose and exaggerated eyebrows, but was sporting a short crop of messy dark hair. She was actually surprised to see he wasn’t a redhead, though it was hard to tell in the black-and-white photo. Most noticeable of all was the large pair of round glasses that adorned his face.

His eyes were kind, lacking that glint of bloodlust they always seemed to have nowadays. She wondered if this picture was taken before he had started down the path that would lead him to hell.

Charlie brushed her thumb over the image of the man and smiled. He looked like such a dork. No wonder current Alastor felt the need to overcompensate so much with his powers. He would quite literally eat a scrawny little guy like this for breakfast.

Still, he was pretty handsome. She blushed at the thought.

There were footsteps outside the door and Charlie panicked, slamming the book shut and tossing it back on the console. Just as she spun around, Alastor entered the room.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her and narrowed his eyes. “Charlie,” he greeted. “What a surprise to find you here. In my room. Without my permission.”

“S-Sorry! I was just looking for you.” She motioned to the darkness around them. “Thought maybe you had something to do with this.”

“Ah, yes. My apologies.” Alastor snapped his fingers and the lights in the room turned back on.

His eyes darted between Charlie and the book, now slightly akew, on the console. He briskly strode over to her, gave her a steely look, and snatched it up. She winced, expecting him to get upset that she had been snooping in his things. Instead, he headed to his bookcase and tucked it gently among its neighbors. She noticed how the dust on that shelf was disturbed only around that book’s spot. It seemed to be the only one the radio demon regularly removed from there.

The princess nervously clasped her hands in front of her. “Do… you… want to talk about what got you so upset that you blew out the electricity in the hotel again?”

“No. I do not,” Alastor stated bluntly, still preoccupying himself with the bookcase.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” She stepped towards him and reached out her hand, then reconsidered and pulled back. “Everyone needs someone to talk to. It feels good to open up sometimes.”

“Hmph. Until you expose your innards and the vultures come to feast on your carcass.”

“What do you mean?”

His back still to her, he swiped a bit of dust off the shelf. “You open yourself up to someone and you risk baring your weaknesses for them to exploit.”

“Do you really think that’s something I’d do?”

Alastor’s spine suddenly straightened. After a moment, he peered over his shoulder at her. “No. I don’t think that’s in your nature at all.”

“Is it in yours?”

He let out a sharp laugh. “Darling, that’s my specialty.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. You’ve seen me at my lowest point. And I’ve seen you at yours. And here we both are-” She patted her stomach. “Innards intact.”

Alastor turned to face her. He looked her up and down with a peculiar gaze, then his eyes softened, matching the expression that the human version of him had in that photograph. Charlie felt her heart flutter. She looked away for fear he’d see her blushing.

Something caught her eye in the corner of the room. Propped against some torn curtains was his microphone, snapped into two pieces.

“Is that your mic?” She asked, breaking the tension from their conversation. “It’s all busted up.”

“Yes,” he mused. “I have Adam to thank for that.”

“I guess I haven’t noticed you’ve been without it this whole time.” She motioned towards it. “Can I?”

He waved his hand, summoning the two pieces towards her. “Be my guest. It’s just useless junk now.”

Charlie inspected the broken microphone. It was a mysterious piece of equipment and seemed to be an extension of the radio demon himself. She wondered if its current condition was part of the reason his powers weren’t fully restored. Holding a piece in each hand, she slotted them together at the break point. Red and gold magic spiraled from both her palms and met together in a tiny burst of fireworks. The eye in the center of the microphone illuminated and blinked a few times.

“There! Good as new.”

“How-” Alastor’s eyes went wide. “How did you-?! Why, I’ve spent weeks trying to fix this thing.”

“Just a bit of magic and some elbow grease!”

He tapped the microphone, causing feedback to echo in the room. The eye narrowed in a glare and he let out a hearty chuckle. “Your powers amaze even me sometimes, my dear.”

Charlie felt her cheeks get hot. It was rare to get such a sincere compliment from the radio demon. “I-It was nothing.”

“In any case, thank you.” Alastor reached for the cane, but she didn’t remove her hand quick enough. He ended up placing his over hers. “It finally feels like-” He paused, glancing down at where their hands were touching.

They looked up at the same time and met eyes. Charlie could feel her heart pounding in her chest. There was a buzzing in her ears, like when you stand too close to an amplifier. She realized it was coming from Alastor himself. His grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly.

“Like I’m… whole again.” he finished, voice dropping out of its filter.

Alastor hastily snatched his hand away, like he’d been burned. With a snap of his fingers, the microphone poofed out of Charlie’s hand and into his own. He gave it a twirl and cleared his throat.

“Yes, well. We should both call it a night. Busy day tomorrow.” His door flew open from an unseen force and he pointed to it with his cane. “Do watch your step, Charlie. Our good friend Ted has been tossing around his lizard skin like candy wrappers.”

An invisible hand pushed her out the door and slammed it behind her. Charlie blinked several times, trying to make sense of what just happened. She clutched her hand to her chest, still feeling the phantom touch of Alastor’s own around it. It’s not like it was the first time he’s ever touched her. The radio demon loved invading her personal space.

But then why did her head feel so fuzzy?

Vox rewound the surveillance footage of his office from earlier that day. He watched as Alastor’s eyes glowed red and he lunged forward, drippy black tendrils undulating around his form. The radio demon’s claws elongated and cracked the metal on either side of the desk, then the video started glitching and went black. Vox hit replay for the umpteenth time.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. A chuckle rumbled in his chest, then exploded out of his mouth in a fit of maniacal laughter. This went on for several minutes until Velvette and Val poked their heads into the room.

“His assistant said he’s been like this all night,” Velvette whispered. “Ever since that radio prick left.”

“Should I fuck some sense into him?” Val whispered back.

“Don’t you mean knock?”

“No.”

“Hey tech head!” Velvette called out. “Want to enlighten us on what is just so bloody funny?”

Vox sighed and wipe a hand across his screen, his grin wild and plasma dripping from his mouth. “After all these years, that bastard Alastor finally slipped up and revealed his weakness.”

“What is it?” asked Val.

“Not a what.” Vox rapped his claw against one of the screens, where an image of Charlotte Morningstar was flickering. “A who.”

Chapter Text

Alastor was half paying attention as he commenced with his radio broadcast. He was slouched in his armchair with his feet propped up on the console, absentmindedly twirling his cane like a majorette’s baton. A bored sigh buzzed from his throat. The screams of his victims just didn’t pack the same punch they used to. Maybe because these were reruns. He hadn’t killed anyone in weeks.

There was a sound outside his room and he practically threw himself over the armrest in eagerness, then immediately deflated upon seeing who it was. KeeKee had managed to squeeze through the space under the door.

“Hmph. I thought you were someone else,” he said to the cat as he flopped back in his chair.

She scratched at his pant leg before jumping into his lap. The radio demon froze and gave her an awkward pat on the head before she crawled onto the soundboard. She began stepping on buttons and swatting at dials, causing the broadcast to warp and modulate. His imprisoned souls shrieked in agony through the radio waves.

Alastor chuckled amusedly. “You’d make a decent disc jockey, my feline friend.” As he continued watching her, he silently contemplated what’s been on his mind all day.

Well, less of a what and more of a who.

It was Charlie.

He felt silly. Today was supposed to be his day off. No hotelier duties, no group activities, no restraining himself from ripping out the spinal cord of one of their hotel guests and beating them to death with it. He should be out on the town! There were places to be, people to eat, friends to see and then also eat. And he was long overdue for a catch-up with Rosie. Instead, he spent the day cooped up in his radio tower. Stuck in a limbo of sorts, between looking for any excuse to go bother the princess and stupidly waiting to see if she’d call upon him first.

He hated to admit that he relished in her company. Her naïve optimism was grating at times, but the sprinkles of profound cleverness she displayed truly delighted him. As did her sense of humor, which was surprisingly similar to his own. Watching her foolhardy plans fall apart never failed to amuse him, though lately he’s been enjoying it even more when she succeeds. Perhaps it was the build-up of small victories that would make the inevitable failure all the more satisfying. And he liked the way the marks on her cheeks scrunched into little pink flapjacks when she smiled.

Hmm. That last thought was a peculiar one.

The radio demon felt a presence in the back of his mind. A nagging voice, telling him that his little tête-à-têtes with the princess were nothing but a distraction. That he had long-neglected work that needed attending to. That he was better off keeping to himself. His shadow stretched intimidatingly towards the ceiling, looming over him like a prison guard. KeeKee hissed at it and dove under his armchair.

Alastor promptly ignored the intrusive thoughts and disappeared from his radio tower.

“Greetings and salutations!”

“Holy shit!”

Charlie was so startled that she fell out of her desk chair. She gathered up the papers she just flung everywhere and struggled to her feet, glaring at the man who just spooked her.

Alastor was lounging on her bed, head resting on his hand, and looking far too comfortable. He sneered at her, clearly pleased at her overreaction.

“Listen Al, I don’t mind you stopping by, but you really need to knock on the door like a normal person!”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He laid on his back and hung his head off the bed, so he was looking at her upside down. “What are you working on?”

“The group activity for tomorrow.” She had a crayon in her hand and proudly showed him the picture she had created. "We’re going to draw the hotel and talk about what we like best about it here!”

The radio demon blinked twice at her, then his cheeks puffed and he let out a loud snort. “Charlie, my dear, this is a rehabilitation center for the damned, not coloring time for some sticky-fingered toddlers.”

“You try coming up with a thought-provoking lesson plan every day!” she pouted. “This idea train is about to hit the end of the tracks.”

“Yes, some of your ideas have been truly terrible. Though it’s entertaining to watch you flounder about in front of our hotel guests.”

She rolled her eyes with an annoyed grumble and went back to her coloring.

Alastor sat up and waved his hand playfully. “I jest, I jest. I actually think some of them have been quite effective on our little band of misfit souls. But I also think they can be better. Why don’t you let me have a crack at running one?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “And have a repeat of that charades fiasco? Three people had their arms ripped off. And if anyone makes even the slightest gesture at Ted, he starts screaming and tries to eat his own hands.”

The radio demon chuckled. “Ah, old Husker and that competitive streak of his. The other teams never stood a chance. But don’t worry, princess. All limbs will stay intact for this particular activity.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked.” He snapped his fingers and a large poster appeared in his hands. It was covered in footprints and arrows. “Dance lessons!” he declared excitedly. “You know, I could really cut a rug when I was alive. Haven’t had much of an opportunity to show off that skill set down here, though.”

“Dance lessons?” Charlie repeated. “I dunno, Al. I appreciate the offer but I don’t see what moral lesson can come from dancing?”

“Oh Charlie dear, what better way to teach these wretched souls about trust than with dance!” He sprung off the bed. Taking her hand, he pulled her out of her seat and spun her around. “Trust in one’s self to remember the dance moves. Trust in your partner not to step on your feet. Trust in the music to guide you along the way!”

“That does make some sense,” she agreed as he swayed her in place to the muted jazz music emanating from his chest. “But what’s the catch?”

“No catch. Just good old fashion fun.” Charlie pulled away from him and crossed her arms. “What? You don’t believe me?” He put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’m hurt. Don’t you trust me?”

She smirked at him. “Only sometimes.”

“That’s good enough for me.” He spun her one last time, sending her twirling back into her desk chair. “I’ll handle all the arrangements. You don’t have to do anything except show up with your best dancing shoes.” He booped her on the nose, then was gone in a puff of black smoke.

The princess rubbed the spot on her nose and blinked hard.

What the heck did she just agree to?

With her afternoon now freed up, Charlie headed downstairs to take a much needed break from all her work. She found Angel Dust, Husk, and Niffty in their usual spots in the lounge area.

“What brings you down here, sweet cheeks?” Angel Dust swung his long legs off the loveseat and scooted over so Charlie could sit. “‘Round this time of day, you’re usually cooped up in your room stressing over our next lesson in holy piety.” He made a double set of prayer hands.

“Actually, Alastor’s taking care of tomorrow’s group activity,” she replied. “So I thought I’m come down here and hang out with you guys!”

Angel raised an eyebrow. “You’re really trusting the twinky tentacle monster with something like that?”

“Trust is a generous word. But he just wants to teach everybody how to dance. Seems harmless enough.”

“That’s… not creepy at all,” he replied.

“Maybe he thinks once we start dancing, we won’t stop.” Niffty trembled with excitement. “And we’ll dance and we’ll dance and we’ll dance until we all drop dead!”

They all looked at her mortified.

“That’s actually a good theory,” Angel said after a moment.

“C’mon you guys, give Alastor some credit,” Charlie defended. “He’s really been stepping up the last few months! In his own twisted way, I do think he’s trying to help.”

“I think he just wants an excuse to dance with you,” Husk said offhandedly. He had his head down in a newspaper.

Angel cracked a coy smile. “Yeah, it’s probably like foreplay for that prude prick.”

Charlie laughed nervously, feeling a blush creep on her face. “D-Dance with me? Why would he want to do that?”

Husk peered up at her from his newspaper, his expression completely deadpan. “Beats me.”

It was seven-thirty the following evening and Charlie was standing in front of her mirror, inspecting her appearance with a disapproving frown. She ripped off her top and threw it on her bed with the dozen others she had discarded. She picked another from her closet, something pinkish with a deep neckline. Before tucking it into her black slacks, she tugged it down a little further, exposing more of her cleavage.

Her hands froze on her belt loops.

What was she doing?!

She had been fussing over her appearance for nearly an hour. All this just for the group activity, something she did almost every day. It wasn’t even like she was running the thing! She could just relax and have fun tonight. Alastor was in charge.

Alastor.

She looked at her reflection and could see the circles on her cheeks darkening from pink to scarlet. She pressed her palms to her face, but hiding the physical evidence didn’t stop the fluttering in her chest.

She was getting dolled up for him.

Charlie quickly yanked up her blouse and scrambled to find her heels under the pile of clothes. Those were her best shoes for dancing, and Alastor had told her to wear appropriate footwear. And those heels looked best with these pants. And these pants looked best with this top.

There was a rational explanation for why she was doing all this.

“I want to dance with Leonard.”

“Laurel, my dear, Leonard is your husband. The point of this activity is building trust. You both should choose a different dance partner.”

“I don’t want my LeeLee cheek to cheek with that harlot.” She pointed across the room at Heather the cheerleader killer.

Heather stuck up her middle finger. “Bite me, you old hag!”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart!” Laurel called back.

Alastor’s eye twitched. His dance lessons hadn’t even started yet and he was already regretting his decision to run today’s group activity. “Fine. Dance with whoever you want. Heavens to Betsy, I don’t care.”

The Cannibal Town couple happily pranced off, arm in arm. Everyone else had found their partners. Heather and Peppy the adulterer had paired up with some of the newer tenants. Niffty was gnawing on Ted the lizard pervert’s tail and that was probably as close to participating as the two of them would get. Angel Dust had dragged Husk out from behind the bar and the latter didn’t seem too bothered by it. The radio demon hadn’t cared to learn most of the hotel guests’ names, though a quick count told him everyone was in attendance. That just left-

“Hey Charlie! DAMN! Your tits look great in that top.”

Alastor’s head swiveled towards the recipient of Angel’s lewd comment. He looked up to see Charlie at the top of the stairs. She wore a pair of flowy slacks and a dainty blouse, a more feminine deviation from the pantsuit that was her usual attire.

She looked… different. It made him feel an odd sense of uneasiness, like that time he and his mother ran into Father Dubois without his Roman collar at the fish market. That day he had buried his face in his mother’s coat, upset by how the priest suddenly looked like a stranger. But right now, Alastor couldn’t tear his eyes away from Charlie. Something about the way she looked made his skin prickle in a not-unpleasant way. This was a good different.

The princess gave a small wave to Angel Dust and Husk, then trotted down the stairs to join everyone. Alastor’s eyes went as wide as saucers as he watched her golden locks of hair – and other parts of her – bounce in rhythm with her steps.

It felt like a swarm of carnivorous bees had devoured his innards and were now buzzing inside his entire body. His fingers fidgeted at his sides and he summoned his cane to give them something to grasp onto. Without a second thought, he jammed the cane down hard on his foot. His smile trembled from the pain, but it instantly snapped him back to his senses.

“Are you ready to get started?” The princess greeted as she approached him. “I can kick things off, if you like.”

“I’d be much obliged,” Alastor replied, offering her his microphone. She took him by the arm and guided him up a few steps of stairs so everyone could see them.

Charlie tapped the microphone a few times and a screech of feedback filled the room. Everyone winced and turned towards her. “Uhh, hi folks! Thanks for rearranging your schedules tonight for this very special group activity, run by our very own facilities manager, Alastor!” She led a round of applause, which only a few people halfheartedly joined in on.

“Boooooo!” someone shouted from the crowd. It was definitely Husk.

“A-Anyways,” she continued. “Today’s lesson is all about trust! Now you may be asking yourself, what does dancing have to do with that? Well, think of a dance floor as the stage for trust. How can you and your partner make this dance work? At first, your movements are stiff. You don’t want to give up control. But a good dance partner, just like a trustworthy person, knows how to communicate and anticipate your steps. As your partner guides you, you feel something change. You start to relax and trust them to take the lead. The dance becomes a conversation, a back-and-forth where you both contribute. You move with confidence, knowing you'll be supported through the dips and turns. It's not blind obedience, but a mutual faith in each other. A willingness to be vulnerable and move together. Whether on the dance floor or in real life, this is what trust is all about!”

Charlie ended her speech with a confident flourish of her hands. There was a tiny round of applause, this time actually genuine. She handed the microphone back to Alastor.

“How was that?” she asked.

He beamed at her, feeling pride swell in his chest. The princess really did have a knack for inspiring people. “Couldn’t have put it better myself, my dear.” She returned his smile, looking pleased at his praise. A most peculiar sensation rose in his chest this time. More of those pesky intestine-eating bees.

Alastor turned to the group. “Now listen up. These instructions are simple enough for even you half-brained imbeciles to understand.” He wiggled his fingers and the floor began to glow. Ghostly shoe prints appeared under each pair of dance partners. “Follow the steps beneath your feet in time to the music.” His eyes narrowed wickedly. “If you miss one, you’ll get a nasty shock.”

“N-No!” Charlie butted in. “No one’s getting shocked!”

He hummed in resignation. “Fine. No electrocutions. Just wait for the pattern to reset and jump back in.” He twirled his cane and tapped it on the ground, sending out a flurry of green magic. Upbeat swing music began playing all around them, as if emanating from the walls themselves.

“Oh! One last thing.” The radio demon snapped his fingers, grin widening as his attire transformed into a dapper tailcoat tuxedo. There were excited murmurs among the hotel guests, seemingly pleased with their improved appearances. He glanced at the princess, who was admiring the skirt and cloche hat he put her in. Her blouse had remained unchanged. He thought it complemented the ensemble quite nicely.

Alastor offered her his hand and gestured to the set of shoe prints waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. “Charlie, my dear,” he crooned. “May I have this dance?”

Step, step, hop!

Charlie huffed in excitement as she tried to keep up with the phantom shoe prints beneath her. She considered herself a good dancer, but this fancy footwork had her tripping over her own hoofs. Alastor made it look so easy. She was taken by the way he kicked and skipped around, not even looking at the guides on the floor, though his steps still matched perfectly. Their fingers were laced together and he pulled her in close as they strode sideways. He spun them both, then placed a hand on her waist as he guided her back to their starting point.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” he said as they took two steps back, then two steps forward. They clasped hands again and kept moving. “I think you’ve been fibbing to me about never swing dancing before.”

“Not except for the few times with you. I sort of missed it when it first came along back in your time. The 1920s were the tail end of my angsty teen years.”

He chuckled. “A shame. You would have made a good dance partner back then. Can’t say the same for these clumsy fools.”

Charlie looked around to see that quite a few of their hotel guests seemed to have two left feet. The Cannibal Town couple were just completely ignoring the dance steps and doing their own thing. It looked like Heather was on her third or fourth partner. Two of the brutes from Carmilla’s warehouse were knocked out cold on the floor. Husk was double fisting flasks while Angel grinded up on anyone who passed by them. Niffty was swinging from the chandelier for some reason. The princess would give them an A for effort, though. Everyone still seemed to be having a good time.

“Err, maybe we should slow things down a bit?” she suggested. “That might make things a little easier for folks.”

“Hmm. A fair suggestion.” Alastor cleared his throat and the music suddenly changed, slowing into a smooth jazz ballad.

Charlie looked down to see the shoe prints underneath them had reset. He took her hands in his, gently placing one of them on his shoulder. He then rested his modestly on her waist and guided her in the first step.

“So you danced like this all the time when you were alive?”

“Yes indeedy. It was a favorite pastime of mine.”

“Even once you started killing people?”

His grin broadened. He seemed amused by her question. “Oh, of course. Sometimes before. Sometimes after. Sometimes even during, haha!”

The princess shook her head. Alastor really was such a peculiar man. He was always tuned in somewhere between blunt honesty and total tomfuckery, and she could never know for certain where his dial landed. He kept her on the tips of her hooves, that’s for sure. And maybe there was a part of her that appreciated that.

Alastor’s hand slide further along her waist. Charlie suddenly felt like she was falling. She yelped in surprise and her hand shot up to grip the back of his neck. She immediately felt silly, realizing he was just dipping her. Eyes locked, he grinned down at her, challenging her trust in him. As he bent her low, his arm hooked around her back and pressed her against him. They were so close, she could feel the tip of his nose brush against hers. He held her like that for a long time, longer than what she thought was normal when you dipped your dance partner.

She searched his face for an answer to a question she was too afraid to ask herself. His smile was unbreakable and unreadable, as it always was. His eyes were soft, almost affectionate, yet there was something feral in them that made her heart start to pound. She was still grasping the back of his neck. Her fingers threaded through his hair and she brushed her thumb against the short bristles of his undercut. She felt his chest rise and fall against her own. His eyes went half-lidded and he glanced down at her lips, his smile twitching at the corners. She distantly registered the romantic swell of saxophones and strings in the music surrounding them.

In that moment, Charlie thought that Alastor was going to kiss her.

In the moment that followed, she realized she actually wanted him to.

Holy shit, she wanted the radio demon to kiss her.

Before she could make any sense of the barrage of emotions that just hit her, he popped her back up on her feet. His hands dropped hastily from her and he stepped back.

“W-Well, my dear! I don’t know about you, but I am falling asleep where I stand.” He tugged anxiously on the lapels of his tailcoat. “I think folks have gotten the hang of things. Why don’t we liven up the music again?”

Charlie felt a bizarre mix of disappointment and relief. “Yeah… good idea.”

As the evening began to wind down, Alastor hung back as Charlie wrapped things up with their hotel guests. He wasn’t used to people willingly approaching him, let alone to thank him for doing something nice. Hell forbid any of these sinners tried to get chummy with him. After helping her to coerce Niffty down from the ceiling, the two of them were alone together in the lobby.

“Charlie, darling.” Alastor’s face felt exceptionally warm. Must be from all the dancing. Or perhaps from the alcohol. Then he remembered he hadn’t had anything to drink. “Thank you for indulging my whims tonight. It was quite a gas.”

“I should be thanking you,” she replied. “You always pull through when I need you most. Everyone really seemed to have a great time. I did too.”

“Perhaps sometime we could…” He stopped himself and it sounded like someone ripped the auxiliary cord out of an amplifier. He wasn’t quite sure what he was about to ask her. “Ah, I mean to say, if you need assistance with any lesson plans in the future, I’m your guy.”

She beamed at him. “I might just hit you up on that.”

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the bar. “Care to join me for a night cap?”

“I shouldn’t. I’ve got some paperwork for heaven to finish up by tomorrow morning. But thanks.”

“Another time, then.”

She smiled and nodded. “Goodnight, Al.”

He watched her as she headed up the stairs, feeling strangely forlorn that the night was already over and wishing he had any excuse to remain in her company.

Alastor’s chest suddenly ached and he rubbed along his angelic wound. This wretchedly holy thing was never going to stop bothering him, was it? His hand stopped over his heart, which was beating rapidly inside his chest. He wondered if perhaps it wasn’t his old injury that was the source of his current distress.

The radio demon’s eyes went wide as the realization finally hit him.

Was he… falling for Charlie?

“Oh dear,” he said out loud.

Chapter Text

Nothing quite like the smell of tulips and freshly eviscerated corpses first thing in the morning. Though Alastor hardly noticed as he briskly walked down the path towards Cannibal Town. Hyper-focused on his destination, he gave a curt nod to the gaggle of women he passed before Rosie’s Emporium finally came into view. Rosie herself was just about to flip the store sign from “closed” to “open” when she spotted the radio demon. She pursed her lips and gave him a wiggly finger wave.

“My, my! Look who the cat dragged in!” She opened the door and ushered him inside. “It’s been a while since you stopped by, Alastor. The princess must be keeping you quite busy at that fancy hotel of hers.”

He hummed tersely in response. “That’s, ah, sort of why I’m here.”

“Oh? Does she need Auntie Rosie’s help again? Well, I don’t know if I can spare her any more cannibals. She did kind of get half my colony massacred.” Rosie broke into a wide smile and flicked her hand playfully. “But what the hell! I love a girl with moxie. Tell her to stop by and I’ll see what I can do.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. This is a personal matter.” Alastor was twiddling his fingers nervously on the top of his microphone. He looked around at the customers who were filtering into the store. “Can we speak somewhere more privately?”

“Of course, honey.” Rosie whistled to one of her stockboys, signaling for him to keep an eye on the shop. She led the radio demon into the back room and he took a seat in one of her plush parlor chairs. A coffee pot materialized on the table and began pouring itself in two bone china cups. “Alright, Alastor. Spill. You never get right down to business like this. Is Charlie okay? Did something happen to her?”

“Oh, she’s just peachy. This is more about yours truly.” Alastor fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.

Rosie looked him up and down as she sipped daintily from her cup. “Your knees are knocking together like a pair of shutters in a thunderstorm. What’s going on?”

“I-” Alastor cracked his neck and cleared his throat. “I think I might be developing an… affection… for the princess. That is, feelings for her. Romantic feelings.”

“Oh.”

Rosie’s eyes went wide as his words sunk in.

“OH!”

She looked down at her cup of coffee, then back up at Alastor, whose eyes pleaded with her. “I think we’re gonna need something a little stronger for this conversation,” she said.

With a clap of her hands, the drinks vanished and were replaced with a decanter full of dark liquid, which she poured into two tumblers. Alastor took one eagerly and downed it in a single gulp.

Rosie shook her head with disbelief. “Well, ain’t this something! In all my years down here, I never thought that you of all people would be coming to me for romantic advice. And about the princess of hell herself!” She tipped her glass to him. “You may not pick them often, or… ever, really, but when you do, you sure pick them well!”

The radio demon groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face, pulling at his eye sockets. He reached for the decanter to pour himself another glass.

“Now, now, don’t beat yourself up about it. Charlie’s quite the catch! Cute face. All that blonde hair.” Rosie cup the air in front of her chest. “Nice perky tits.”

Alastor spit out his drink and started coughing. He hit his fist against his chest a few times. “Ah, I-I hadn’t noticed.”

“What happened to that angel girlfriend of hers?”

“They called it quits,” he mumbled into his glass.

“Well, that’s bully for you,” Rosie replied. She tapped her chin. “You know, I didn’t pick up on this at all when you first brought her here. I’m usually quite good at noticing these things. What changed?”

“I don’t know!” he interjected. “This doesn’t make a lick of sense! I’ve known Charlie for almost a year now. I’ve never entertained romantic thoughts for her before. Or anyone, for that matter. And now…”

“And now?” she pushed.

“Why, she’s all I can think about!” Alastor clutched his head, fisting chunks of his hair. “I think I’m going mad, Rosie!”

Rosie gave a small laugh. “Oh Alastor, you’re not going mad. Sometimes we have to know a person, and I mean really know them. Inside and out. Take the time to build trust and a deep connection with them. Only then can our heart open up to other possibilities.” She placed her head in her hand and sighed dreamily. “And when it does, suddenly you see that person in a whole new light. Like you’re a clock and they’re the last gear that needed to click into place to get you to start ticking.”

“But WHY!” The filter in his voice wavered manically. “Why her? Why now?! I’ve gone over a century without any burdens of the heart and now it feels like I’m buried up to my ears in them!”

“If I had an answer for that, I’d tell you. But the heart wants what it wants. Sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason to it.” She leaned over and patted his hand. “But I can try to help you make sense of what you’re feeling. Let’s start with the basics. What do you like about her?”

Alastor sat back and crossed his legs. “Hmph. I don’t know. She doesn’t annoy me. Most of the time.”

“Well, that’s an incredibly low bar to set. C’mon, honey. Really work that noodle. What do you like about her?”

He looked down at his glass of liquor. His own reflection stared back, his smile the same as it always was but his eyes quivered with emotion. He exhaled out his nose to temper his storm of thoughts. “Charlie… she sees me. All of me. And despite that, she still lets me stick around.”

“Now that’s something!” Rosie encouraged. “How about her looks. Do you think she’s pretty?”

“Yes, of course.” Alastor straightened in his seat, surprised by how quickly and assuredly he answered the question. Sure, he always thought Charlie was pretty. That wasn’t some grand revelation. He admired her beauty in the same way he’d admire a china doll in a store window as a child. A dainty, elegant thing meant to be kept on a high shelf for fear it would break. But her beauty struck him differently now. It made his chest burn and his antlers feel heavy. His fingers twitched with the urge to take this china doll off the shelf, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to cradle it close to him or shatter it in his hands.

“And what about her gets you going?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“What do you find attractive? Her smile? That tight little tuchus of hers? What about her long legs? Or those big starry black eyes?”

Alastor’s neck prickled like there was a bug crawling on him. He slapped it with his hand, feeling just goosebumps and overheated flesh. “Her eyes are scarlet,” he said flatly.

Rosie grinned knowingly. “Are they?” She took a sip from her drink, studying the radio demon from behind her cup. “Let me ask you one last thing. When you’re with her, how does she make you feel?”

He thought for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. “Like I ate a batch of bad oysters.”

She laughed behind her hand. “That’s definitely love.”

“Love?” he repeated, voice cracking out of its filter. He wagged a finger at her. “No, no, no. No one said anything about love. This is a silly infatuation at best.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” she replied. “Obviously you didn’t just come here to gush about how pretty your princess is. So what is it you’re looking for? Dating advice? I don’t know much about wooing a royal gal, but I’ve got some old etiquette books on courtships that-”

“NO!!” Feedback swelled in the room, cracking the glass in the radio demon’s hand. He hastily placed it back on the table. “I need to know how to stop feeling this way.” He couldn’t hide the quiver of desperation in his voice. “Please, Rosie. Help me.”

She sighed. “Oh Alastor. I wish it were that simple. But there’s no magic snake oil for this type of thing. You just have to let it run its course. You’ll get over her eventually. Do you want my honest advice?”

He nodded.

“Why not have a little fun? What’s the worst that could happen?”

What’s the worst that could happen? He could make an utter fool of himself and never be able to show his face in the hotel again. He could be laughed out of the inner circle of overlords and never be able to show his face in all of hell again. Lucifer could find out and smite him into oblivion. Then he’d never have to worry about showing his face anywhere. Because he won’t exist.

Those were all possibilities, but the scenario most prevalent on his mind was the one he feared was already happening. That all these mushy gushy feelings were keeping him from regaining his full powers back.

“I’m quite content with my bachelor status, thank you very much.” Alastor got up from his chair and gave Rosie a small bow. “Nonetheless, I appreciate your time, Rosie dear. I trust you’ll keep the details of this conversation between us?”

“Of course, Alastor.” She made a zipping motion across her mouth. “The secrets of your love life are safe with me.”

“Love,” he muttered to himself as he walked out of the parlor, chewing on the word. It felt foreign as it rolled off his tongue.

“Who’d like to go next? Angel? How about you?”

Charlie was gathered with the hotel guests in the lobby. Everyone was sitting cross-legged on the carpet while she stood behind the podium, feeling very much like a preschool teacher instructing a class of children. Maybe Alastor had been right about these types of activities.

Angel Dust sprang to his feet and approached the front of the group. He held up his drawing. “So uhhh, I think this place is pretty alright. But here are some things I’d change.” He pointed to a rectangle with wavy lines surrounding it. “I’d give us all those quarter-operated vibrating beds. Only they won’t need quarters! They’ll just be vibrating all the time!” His finger slid to a large brown scribble on the paper. “This here is a mud pit for Fat Nuggets. I guess we could use it for mud wrestling too?” His face brightened. “Oo Charlie! That would be a fun trust-building exercise!”

Charlie rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Angel motioned to his drawing of a cat standing on a lumpy cloud thing. “Oh, and I’d give Husk a pillow because he’s always falling asleep behind the bar.”

The princess clapped enthusiastically once he finished. “Aww, Angel! That’s so sweet. I love how all your improvements were to help other people. And look! You’re even carrying in an eggplant that we grew in our garden!” She pointed to the stick figure Angel had drawn of himself.

“Uhhh, that’s not an eggplant,” Husk pointed out.

As everyone continued to shared their drawings, Charlie’s mind began to wonder. She surveyed the room and couldn’t help but feel disappointed that Alastor wasn’t here. It’s been over a week since he bothered to show up to any group activities. She’s barely seen hide or tail of him since his dance lessons. Just some polite greetings if they passed in the hallway, or a snarky response if she caught him on his way out the door.

She thought they had gotten close in the last few months. That they were more than just business partners and have developed a genuine friendship. There was a different man beneath the fancy clothes, fancier words, and mask of a smile, or so she had thought. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but it felt like he was avoiding her. What’s worse, she had no idea why. Had she done something to upset him? Was he playing some kind of game with her? Did he finally get bored of the hotel and is thinking about leaving? Did he get injured again? He did have a habit of acting like a sickly cat who hides under the bed where no one can reach it. She’s still worried one day she’s going to find him dead and alone in his radio tower.

One of the first lessons Charlie taught their hotel guests was about the importance of clear and honest communication. She should practice what she preaches and just talk to Alastor. Sure, she usually needed to pry him open with some Jaws of Life to get even the tiniest tidbit out of him, but she liked to think he’s not as much of a closed book as when he first got here.

And there was a part of her, ever since the night of his dance lessons, that wanted to scour every page of that particular book.

The princess shook her head. She tried not to think too much about that night. Because when she did, all she could think about was how nice it felt when the radio demon held her close. How his heated gaze so easily scorched past her defenses. And the overwhelming desire she had felt to kiss him. She rested her chin in her hand and sighed.

“What do think Charlie?”

The princess was yanked back to reality when someone called her name. “Uhh, it’s great! The perfect addition to our hotel!”

She was met with awkward silence and astonished stares.

Heather the cheerleader killer looked disgusted. “You really think Ted’s suggestion to add glory holes in all the hotel bathrooms is a good idea?”

“Wait, what?” Charlie looked at Ted the lizard pervert’s crude scribbles.

“What’s with the dopey look?” Angel was laying on his stomach and lazily kicked his feet. “Who you daydreaming about, toots?”

“N-Nobody!” Charlie frantically waved her hands. “I’m just… umm… thinking about all these wonderful suggestions for the hotel!”

“Like the glory holes?” Husk asked.

“So we can make the glory holes?” Ted’s tongue darted out of his mouth excitedly.

“I’ll get my drill!” Angel chimed in.

“Hang on guys, I never said we could get any of these things. This is just a hypothetical-”

“If the boys get their glory holes, then the girls should get an expresso maker!” Heather pouted.

“You’re the only one who wants that fancy bean water box,” Laurel from Cannibal Town retorted.

“I need my caffeine, damnit!”

“Is anyone else concerned that Angel owns a set of power tools?”

“Glory holes! Glory holes!” Ted began chanting. Angel and a few other men joined in.

“NO GLORY HOLES!!” Charlie’s hair shot up like flames as her horns erupted from her skull.

In the silence that follow her outburst, everyone heard the front door creak open and turned to see Alastor enter. The grin on his face wriggled with annoyance. Clearly he wasn’t expecting to find nearly every occupant of the hotel in the lobby. He looked around the group before his eyes landed on the princess. They slowly scanned up her form, settling on her horns. His eyebrow twitched with intrigue and it made her heart skip a beat. She let out the breath she had been holding and her features returned to normal. Only then did he break his gaze and head for the stairs.

“Hey chuckles!” Angel called after him. “Settle something for us, will ya?”

Alastor already had his boot on the first step. He let out a harsh groan of static and turned around. “What is it?”

“If you could add one thing to the hotel, what would you choose? Glory holes or an expresso maker?”

The radio demon’s lip curled in disdain. “Is there a third, less terrible option?”

“What about a pool table?” Peppy the adulterer offered. There were murmurs of agreement among the crowd.

“Again,” Charlie tried to cut in. “We’re not actually getting any of these-”

Alastor shot a finger gun at Peppy. “Yes.” He snapped his fingers and a pool table fell with a loud thud into the lobby, blocking the front door.

“That’s a fire hazard,” Husk said. “Can’t we move it over to the lounge?”

Alastor laughed as he headed up the stairs. “That’s for you chumps to figure out!”

Charlie watched as the hotel guests gathered excitedly around the pool table, seemingly happy with the compromise they had reached. She looked up the stairs, and making up her mind, headed after the radio demon.

“Hey Alastor!” She caught up with him before he stepped into the elevator. “We missed you at the group activity today. And all this week.”

He barely considered her as he tapped the button to go up. “I’ve been busy, my dear. I can’t always make the hotel my top priority.”

She frowned, feeling hurt by that. “I thought we made a deal for you to engage more with our guests.”

He tensed, and this time did turn to face her. “A deal?” he scoffed. “We did no such thing. I recall you guilting me into being your magician’s assistant for these little cards games and rabbit tricks you like to perform.”

“Guilting you? Is that how you feel about it?” Charlie blinked a few times, feeling her nose burn with emotion. “Fine. You’re officially released from your duty of attending any and all activities in this hotel if they’re really such a burden for you.” She hugged her arms to her chest and turned to leave. “See you whenever, asshole.”

“Charlie, wait.” Alastor grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. She looked down at his hold of her, a little bewildered. His grip loosened and his hand slid down to gently grasp her forearm. She could see the muscles in his jaw flex, like he was mulling over his next words. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that. Your lessons are lovely. I do quite enjoy them. Most of the time, anyways.”

His apology took her by surprise. She studied his face, waiting for the mischief to flicker back in his eyes and for him to follow up with some cheeky comment. They stood in silence for a moment and she realize he was being wholly sincere.

“What’s going on with you, Alastor?” she asked softly. “You’ve been acting strange lately. Well, stranger than normal, I mean.”

He let go of her, ears wilting ever so slightly. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. “You can trust me, Al.” With her free hand, she patted her stomach. “Innards intact, remember?”

The radio demon gave a quiet chuckle, eyes softening. As he looked down at her, his forehead wrinkled, like he was internally debating something. He let out a staticky sigh. “The truth is, Charlie, I’m concerned I may never regain my full powers back. It’s been weeks since I’ve made any progress. And it’s not like I’ve had many opportunities to exercise them to their full extent.” He began pacing anxiously in a circle. “What am I supposed to do? Challenge another overlord and take a gamble on whether or not I’m strong enough to defeat them? But how will I know the limits of my powers unless I fight?” He threw his hands up and laughed defeatedly. “Either I risk exposing my weakness or I spend the rest of eternity never knowing my full strength. It’s quite the conundrum!”

Charlie felt her heart clench in sympathy for the man. Alastor defined himself by his powers. And without them, she got the sense he had no idea who he was. There had to be something she could do to help him.

“What if we trained together?” she suggested.

“Trained? You and me?” He waved off the idea. “I appreciate the offer, my dear, but I’d rather not be indebted to your charitable inclinations again.”

“It’ll be a mutual beneficial arrangement! I can help exercise those powers of yours and you can teach me some of your moves.” Charlie hopped back and forth and punched her fists in the air. “You’re always telling me that I’m too nice and that’s holding me back from reaching my full potential. So teach me! And in return, I’ll be your training buddy.”

“Hmm.” Alastor tapped his chin as he considered her offer.

She leaned in close and clasped her hands together. “I’ll make another progress chaaaaaart,” she sang temptingly. “I got these new puffy stickers that you can squish with your finger!”

“I accept.” His grin curled wickedly as he shook a finger at her. “But I won’t be going easy on you, princess.”

She matched his smile. “I’d be offended if you did.”

As the elevator doors closed, Alastor slumped against the wall and covered his mouth with his hand. Underneath it, his smile twitched and trembled. His shoulders shook with silent laughter, a few chuckles escaped his lips, then he doubled over as a fit of hysteria seized him.

What was he doing? What the fuck was he doing?!

These trivial human feelings were so far beneath him. Even when he was a human himself, he never needed them. He’s gotten this far into his existence plenty fine without them. He needed to get over this ridiculous infatuation with Charlie. It was like an infection, poisoning his mind and weakening his body.

He needed to, but he didn’t want to. That was his dilemma.

This terrible, awful, nauseating, skin-crawling, mind-flaying way she made him feel? He actually liked it.

And he hated himself for that.

Charlie threw herself on her bed and covered her face with her hands. She kicked her hooves and squeaked with excitement, knowing she was far too giddy about Alastor agreeing to train with her. She told herself she was just eager for the chance to unlock her full potential, but the butterflies in her stomach said otherwise.

Okay, so she was developing the teeeeeeniest tiniest crush on the radio demon. It wasn’t a big deal! Maybe she was still a little hung up on Vaggie and this was just her latching onto someone familiar. They were spending a lot of time together. Once the novelty of that wore off, the feeling would pass.

Besides, it’s not like Alastor had any interest in this stuff. He’s the type of guy who’d rather watch paint dry than go out to the strip club with the boys. He quite literally did, the one and only time Angel Dust invited him.

As the princess reasoned with herself, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She took it out and looked at the notification. It was an email.

From: vox(@)voxtek.net

Subject: Greetings from the tech capital of hell!

Chapter Text

With her hands on her waist, Charlie lunged on one foot and pivoted her hips. Stretching before exercise was key to a successful workout! Her mother’s old aerobics videos taught her that. Though she was plenty limber now, considering she’s been shadow boxing for the last twenty minutes while waiting for Alastor. She knew it was early in the morning. The hellish suns hadn’t even risen yet. But he had insisted this was the best time to training together, before anyone else in the hotel woke up. Where the heck was he?

She sat down on the edge of Dazzle’s statue and looked up at the hotel, admiring the soft glow that came from the occupied rooms. Even when everyone was asleep, the building brimmed with life. They’ve come so far from the dilapidated hand-me-down she had begged her father to let her fix up. Just as she was about to head back inside, she saw a shadow slither down the spire of Alastor’s radio tower. It snaked along the ground towards her and the radio demon suddenly appeared, dusting off his lapels once he finished materializing.

The princess crossed her arms. “Did you forget to set an alarm? You’re late,” she said shortly.

His smile was unphased and unapologetic. “Lesson number one when facing an opponent: be unpredictable.” As she stood up from the statue’s edge, his eyes quickly flitted up and down her figure. He made a curious sound, like someone tapping a live microphone. “I see you dressed up for the occasion.”

Charlie was wearing the same outfit she wore when they fought the exterminators, albeit with a few mismatched patches of mended fabric. She did a spin, flaring up the edges of her skirt. “This is a battledress. Crafted by the best war seamstresses in the Wrath ring. It was made for fighting!” The radio demon’s gaze lingered and it made her feel a little self-conscious, like he was scrutinizing her appearance. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Are you really going to fight in a three-piece suit?”

“Oh, don’t be silly! That would be impracticable. This is only two pieces, no waistcoat. It’s the ideal attire for any situation, such as our little spat with heaven.”

“I don’t remember that battle working out too great for you.”

Alastor blinked twice, his smile pulling into a tight line. “Are you suggesting I lost the fight to Adam because I was dressed too fancy?” His voice pitched and distorted on the last few words.

She shrugged innocently. “You said it, not me.”

With a challenging glare, he didn’t break eye contact with her as he began unfastening the buttons on his jacket. He slung it off his shoulders, then hung it on one of Dazzle’s stone claws. Charlie felt her pulse quicken. She knew he was just being dramatic, but watching him angrily remove his clothes like this? It was… hot. Her eyes focused on his hands as he flicked off his cufflinks, which disappeared in a fizzle of green smoke. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and flexed his wrists, the purple veins inside them pulling taut. She was fascinated by how his gray skin darkened to charcoal on his forearms, then to nearly pitch black on his hands. It starkly contrasted against the hellish red of his claws. Blood filled her cheeks as she wondered where else his body darkened like that. Did a similar ombre spread down his long legs? She had only gotten a glimpse of his bare hooves when she was nursing him back to health, but she was pretty sure they had a similar coloration to his hands.

Charlie suddenly tasted metallic, and realized she had been biting hard on her bottom lip as she watched the radio demon’s unintentional strip tease. She discreetly licked over the small nick before the blood could trickle down her chin.

Alastor smoothed down the front of his shirt, then presented himself with a pair of sarcastic jazz hands. “Shall we get started?”

The princess led them to the far perimeter of the hotel grounds, close to the jagged border of Pentagram City. “So what kind of spooky-ooky magic are you gonna teach me today?” she asked excitedly as she bounced along next to him.

“As I said, today’s lesson is about being unpredictable.”

“Yeah, but what does that-” she stopped, realizing she was suddenly alone. “Alastor?” She spun around and he reappeared mere inches from her face. So startled, she yelped and stumbled back, falling hard on her ass onto the ground.

The radio demon chuckled and crouched down to her level. “It means keeping your enemy on their toes so that they never know what to expect from you. It’s easy to fall into a pattern in battle. One your opponent will quickly figure out and counter. You can’t rely on just your magic and fighting skills to outsmart them. You must be perceptive. Use your instinct, but also be calculating all possibilities. Act in the moment, but be ready with your next move.” He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet.

Charlie rubbed the bruise already forming on her tailbone. “That doesn’t make any sense. How can you be in the moment but then also be thinking about what you’re gonna do next?

His smile was patient. “For a novice like you, it won’t make sense at first. Give it time.” He snapped his fingers and a red handkerchief appeared in his hand. “See if you can snatch this from me.” He folded it into a tiny triangle and placed it into his breast pocket with just the tip of it sticking out.

Charlie nodded determinedly and squared her shoulders. With a short battle cry, she lunged for Alastor’s chest. He barely flinched as a black tentacle shot up from the ground and slapped away her hand. He popped his monocle off his cheek and rubbed it against his shirt before leering at her.

“Honestly, Charlie. That was pathetic.”

She grunted in annoyance. “I’m just getting warmed up- SNEAK ATTACK!” She jumped at him again and another tendril knocked her back.

His expression was deadpan. “Saying ‘sneak attack’ defeats the entire purpose of a sneak attack, my dear.”

The two went round after round. Alastor teleported circles around Charlie and she spun bewilderedly after him, like a blindfolded kid whacking clumsily at a pinata. She threw punch after punch as a distraction, but half the time he didn’t even lift a finger to deflect them. His shadowy tendrils did all the work. At one point, the man had the audacity to yawn while she tried to kick out his feet from underneath him. A tentacle wrapped around her ankle and flipped her over. She landed on the ground with a winded “oof!”, but popped right back up for more. As the suns began to rise, his shadow stretched long over the ground. It had a wickedly gleeful grin on its face as it watched the princess’s failures.

“Sloppy.” Alastor sidestepped one of Charlie’s ham-fisted uppercuts.

“Saw that one coming a mile away.” He summoned his cane and knocked her in the back of the knees with it.

“A blind monkey with no arms or legs could have avoided that one.” He lazily sank down into his shadow as she flailed her arms like a rogue weedwhacker at him.

Charlie bent over to catch her breath. She brushed off the scratches of dirt on her knees as she watched the radio demon reappeared a few yards away. He discreetly rubbed his neck and she noticed a light sheen of sweat on his brow. They’ve been going at it for nearly an hour, and although he had been effortlessly dodging her attacks, the exertion appeared to still be having an effect on him. She just had to wear him down a little more, then she’d have her opening.

She feigned a right jab, something he had easily anticipated before. Just before a tentacle wrapped around her wrist, she dropped low and jabbed him in the gut with a left hook. Satisfaction surged as she saw surprise flicker in his eyes. But the triumph was short-lived. Alastor’s grin curled as he countered with a lightning-fast tendril that popped Charlie right in the chin, knocking her to the ground.

The princess propped herself up on one elbow and clutched her face, the pain in her jaw a dull throb. The radio demon’s eyes shot wide with concern. There was another emotion in there too. Fear? No, that didn’t make any sense. What did he have to be afraid of right now? He was the one kicking her ass.

He rushed forward and dropped to one knee in front of her. “Ah, apologies. Didn’t mean to give you that shiner.”

“It’s fine,” she brushed off. “I did tell you not to go easy on me.” She clutched his arm, leaning into him as she rose on wobbly legs.

“Perhaps we should end our session here,” he suggested. “You were embarrassingly unsuccessful, but there is always tomorrow.”

“Was I?” Charlie held up her hand. Between her two fingers was the folded handkerchief.

Confused, Alastor frantically patted his breast pocket. He looked back at the princess in disbelief. “You clever girl. Feigning injury so I’d drop my defenses.”

“You said to be unpredictable.” She placed the handkerchief back in his pocket and patted his chest. Was his heart racing as fast as hers was, or was it just her own pulse thrumming in her palm?

Alastor cleared his throat and stepped back from her touch. “Yes well… don’t get cocky now. One fruitful attempt out of the hundred or so in the last hour is hardly something to celebrate.” He paused. “Still, adequate job. Not many are able to outwit me.”

She beamed at his compliment. “I consider this to be a productive first day of training! Now let’s go inside, I’m starving. It’s almost time for Sunday pancakes!”

The radio demon rolled his eyes, but a loud, betraying growl rumbled from his stomach. He begrudgingly followed the princess back to the hotel.

“Gooooood morning, Charlie!” Lucifer greeted brightly. He spotted the radio demon behind her and his mood immediately soured, face crumbling with enough wrinkles appropriate for someone as many millennia old as he was. “Alastor. Fuck you.”

Alastor bared his teeth in a combative smile. “And a pleasant morning to you too, sir.” His voice dripped with venomous politeness.

Lucifer’s eyes darted suspiciously between his daughter and her companion. “Where were you two?”

“We just went on a brisk morning stroll to discuss some hotel business. Isn’t that right, Charlie?” Alastor replied.

“Yup! That’s right!” she agreed, looking only a little guilty for fibbing to her father. She took a seat at the kitchen counter next to Heather the cheerleader killer. Alastor sat down next to them, and while making sure that Lucifer was watching, moved his stool even closer to Charlie.

The king of hell’s nostrils flared in anger. “Strawberry or plain, Char-Char?”

“Strawberry please!”

“I’ll take the same,” Alastor tagged on.

Lucifer scowled at him before slapping his happy face back on and returning to the griddle. He whistled to himself as he poured more batter onto its hot surface. Strawberries orbited around his head, bouncing along to the tune, before dropping themselves into the sizzling pancakes. After giving them a flip, he placed three on a plate and gave them to Charlie. The last one had to be scraped off the griddle. He made eye contact with Alastor, and with it balancing on his spatula, flicked his wrist so it flopped to the floor.

“Whoopsie!” Lucifer slapped his hands to his cheeks in mock surprise. He scooped the pancake onto a plate for the radio demon. “Fresh out of batter. Guess you’ll have to make do.”

The pancake was burnt on one side, raw on the other, and had a single piece of moldy strawberry in it. Alastor was so famished, he almost didn’t care. Although his training with Charlie had been rudimentary at best, the constant use of his powers for such an extended time had made him work up quite the appetite.

“Daaaad!” Charlie scolded. Her father shrugged innocently. She groaned her disapproval and pushed her plate towards Alastor. “Here. We can share mine.”

“How generous of you, my dear. At least someone in the Morningstar family has manners.”

Alastor cut off a piece with his fork and brought it to his mouth. He resisted the urge to close his eyes. Damnit. Lucifer really did make good pancakes. He looked up to see the king of hell sitting on his stool in front of the griddle, shoveling his own breakfast into his gaping maw as he tried to burn a hole through Alastor’s skull with his glare. His cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk’s and syrup dribbled down his chin.

As Alastor pretended not to enjoy his breakfast, he also pretended to be interested in whatever girlish whims Charlie and Heather were discussing. Everyone suddenly winced as the loud sound of metal scrapping on linoleum grated against their ears. Lucifer had gripped the edge of his stool and was scooting determinedly across the kitchen. He butted into the tight space between Charlie and the radio demon. The latter stabbed at one last piece of pancake before being pushed out of the way.

“So what’s everyone up to today?” Lucifer asked, plopping his elbow down on the counter to completely block Alastor from the conversation. “My schedule is wide open, so I thought I’d hang around! Get a little chummy with some of the guests. Maybe we can do karaoke later!”

“Aww, dad, I’d love that. But I won’t be around much today. I’ve got a lunch date in town this afternoon.”

Alastor’s ears shot straight up.

“With who?” he asked at the same time as Lucifer. The two men glared at each other.

“Just someone who’s interested in the hotel. Heather’s going to run a meditation session after lunch. Maybe you could help with that, dad?”

Heather made a peace sign. “We’re gonna get like totally zen. I just need to find some goats for goat yoga.”

Lucifer’s face brightened. “I can definitely help you there!” With a poof of magic, he transformed into a billy goat and bleated at her.

Alastor ignored how the hotel guests began fawning over the king of hell and his one-man circus act. His thoughts were spiraling about Charlie’s mystery lunch date. Why hadn’t she told him about it? Why weren’t they taking this appointment together? They were business partners, after all. He thought she wanted him to be involved in these types of things.

Who was this person? A sinner seeking redemption? A potential new employee? Why else would they be interested in the hotel? Or where they just interested in Charlie? An image, unwelcomed and vivid, flickered in his mind – Charlie across the table from a charming stranger, their laughter echoing in a warm cozy café while they shared a single slice of pie. Alastor could picture Charlie so clearly in this horrid fantasy. Her eyes sparkling and smile brighter than usual, captivated by someone who wasn’t him.

The radio demon’s stomach churned, a sour concoction of pancakes, anger, and a far more bitter emotion – jealousy.

The princess excused herself from breakfast, citing that she needed to get ready for her afternoon meetup. This was Alastor’s opportunity to interrogate her about it. While everyone was distracted watching Lucifer turn into an anteater and start licking all their plates clean, he dissolved into the shadows and transported himself to Charlie’s room.

Razzle and KeeKee were curled up together on her bed. Next to them, her red pantsuit was laid out. Well, that was promising. At least she wasn’t getting dolled up for whoever it was she was meeting. He heard the sound of running water and the soft hum of singing. Charlie must be in the shower. He stomped over to her bathroom door and raised his hand to pound on it.

His fist stopped before it made contact.

Alastor let out a staticky sigh, annoyed with himself.

He was being ridiculous. Why had he let this work him up into such a tizzy? The princess was probably just meeting with some pathetic lowlife who wants to stay at the hotel. She knew better than to bother him with that nonsense. He should be grateful, considering the last thing he wanted was to spend his Sunday listening to some desperate, down-on-their-luck sinner blubber about all their regrets in life.

He walked back to the bed and bent down to Razzle and KeeKee’s level, who had both been watching him.

“I was never here,” he hissed, before dissipating into a black haze.

Charlie glanced at her reflection in the enormous aquarium that wrapped around the entryway of Styx Fixe, the location of her lunch meeting. This restaurant was way fancier than she expected and she felt a bit underdressed. She ran her hands down her suit jacket, trying to flatten out the wrinkles. One of the electric eels in the tank was staring her down. She stuck her tongue out at it.

“Don’t be so judgy!” she whispered. “How was I supposed to know this place was so bougie? I thought we were just gonna get burgers or something!”

“Right this way, ma’am.” The host appeared and gave her an even more disapproving look than the eel. He led her to a private room where a table was intimately set for two.

Vox of VoxTek Enterprises was already seated in one of the chairs. He bounced to his feet when he saw Charlie enter. “Princess Morningstar!” he greeted enthusiastically. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m so pleased you accepted my invitation.”

He took her hand for what she thought was a handshake, but instead lifted it to his screen and kissed it. It was an odd sensation, like something slimy and wet giving her knuckles a static shock. He ushered her to the table and pulled out her chair so she could sit down.

“I must say, pictures and videos don’t do you justice, my dear. You’ve even more lovely in person.” A charming smile flashed on Vox’s screen.

“Err, thank you,” Charlie responded awkwardly.

The television demon snapped his fingers and a waiter appeared with a bottle of champagne and two flutes of orange juice. “Grimosa?” Vox offered.

She felt like it was rude to decline. “Sure.”

The waiter poured the champagne into both glasses, then pulled out a vial filled with a suspicious looking red liquid. She tried not to look mortified as he poured it into the drinks and it stretched out like spindly fingers, turning them red.

“Is… is that blood?”

“Blood?” Vox laughed. “No, my dear. It’s grenadine. What, do you think I’m some raving mad cannibal who carries jugs of blood around?” He took one of the drinks off the waiter’s tray and gulped half of it down. “Keep that shit to that old timey nightmare town, amirite?”

She laughed nervously in response and accepted the other glass that the waiter offered her. “I appreciate you wanting to meet with me, Mr. Vox. I know our hotel isn’t on the best of terms with the Three Vee’s, given how we’re housing a few of your former employees. And well… I know you and Alastor have history.”

His screen glitched for a second and she saw a crack splinter on his glass from how tightly he was gripping it. “Val and Velvette can deal with their own employees. As for the radio demon, this business doesn’t really concern him. I doubt he’d be interested in it anyways. And please, my dear. Call me Vox.”

Charlie didn’t like the way he kept referring to her as my dear. It felt belittling. Not at all like when Alastor calls her that. “So what exactly did you want to discuss with me?”

Vox grinned and steepled his hands. He pointed his index fingers at her. “Getting right down to business. A gal after my own heart. What I’m proposing, Charlie – can I call you Charlie?”

“Everyone else does.”

“What I’m proposing is for VoxTek to sponsor the Hazbin Hotel.”

“A sponsorship?” Charlie sipped her drink to give herself a moment of pause. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. I don’t want some giant VoxTek blimp flying above the hotel or to force everyone to drink one of those trendy sport drinks you guys make that destroy your liver.”

“No, nothing like that. This isn’t about brand deals or endorsements. I want to support the work you’re doing. Bring your hotel into the modern age! With VoxTek technology to support you, you’ll be able to run things much more efficiently.”

The princess had to admit, that did pique her interest. “What did you have in mind?”

“Imagine the hours you’d save if all that heavenly paperwork was automated. You’d never have to lift a pen again! A carefully crafted algorithm to regularly and effectively evaluate your hotel guests. Or a personal AI assistant that crafts all your lesson plans for you! No more late-night brainstorming sessions or ripping out that pretty blonde hair of yours when you’re fresh out of ideas. Plus, we can equip each of your hotel guests with their very own Voxpad, customized to their personal recovery plan. And all of these features will be synced together! Your hotel will run so smoothly, you won’t even need any staff to help you. You can kick your feet back and let our technology take care of things for you.”

Vox smiled sinisterly and leaned in close. One of his eyes stretched wide, its sclera spinning in a swirl of colors. “Doesn’t that sound great? So much better than whatever that crusty old business partner of yours could offer.”

Charlie was a bit concerned that Vox already knew so much about the hotel. Maybe those rumors about him spying on people through their cell phones were true. She cocked her head at the television demon. “Err… are you okay? Your eye looks funny. You might need to see a doctor about that. Or a… TV repairman, maybe?”

“Fuck,” Vox muttered under his breath. He straightened his bowtie and displayed another charming smile on his screen. “So what do you say, my dear? You and me, partnering up?”

Charlie studied the man. Alastor never really spoke much about Vox. Most of what she knew about him came from Angel Dust. What she gathered was the television demon was a savvy businessman and also a backstabbing, self-serving dickbag.

“What’s in it for you?” she asked. “No offense, but you don’t seem like the type of guy who’s looking for redemption.”

He leaned back in his chair and put a hand to his chest. “You’d be right about that. Redemption is not really something I’m interested in for myself. Pentagram City needs me too much. This town would fall into chaos without my innovations. All of hell would, really. I brought this realm into the era of technology. You don’t know how much of a no man’s land it was here back in the 1950s. All people did for entertainment was fight, fuck, or listen to the radio.” He shuddered. “Dark times.”

“Actually, I do remember,” Charlie replied. “I was alive back then, you know. It wasn’t so bad.”

“You were?” Vox pointed a finger gun at her and winked. “Well hey, you’re looking great for your age!”

She ignored his comment. “So why do you want to sponsor the hotel?”

“I know a good investment when I see one. And while your hotel might be a risky business venture, it’s you, my dear, that is the real investment.”

Charlie was surprised at the heat that burned in her cheeks. No one had ever displayed such confidence in her abilities right from the get-go. Not Vaggie, not her father, not Alastor, nor anyone else. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Vox.”

The waiter reappeared with the first course of their meal. Vox motioned for him to refill their drinks, then shooed him away. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. Or even today,” he said. “Let’s enjoy our lunch, then you take the time you need to think about my offer.”

After finishing their meals, Vox walked with Charlie to the front of the restaurant. He motioned to his town car waiting outside and offered to take her to V Tower for a proper tour. She politely declined, and after bidding farewell, held out her hand for him to shake. He pulled her closer, way closer than she was comfortable with, and pressed his lips to her knuckles again. (Or was it his screen? What the heck was touching her hand and why was it so slimy?!)

“I’ve quite enjoyed your company today, princess,” he said lowly. “I can see why the radio demon is so fond of you.”

Charlie stood there dazed, feeling both flustered and repulsed. She watched as Vox was escorted outside by his chauffeur and hopped into his fancy car. Her neck prickled with the sense of eyes on her, and she turned to see the electric eel staring at her again from inside the aquarium.

“That was weird, right?” she said to it.

Alastor dipped and ducked as the princess swung her fists at him. His hands were tucked behind his back, making the handkerchief in his pocket all the easier to snag. Maybe he was indulging her a bit more, but he still wouldn’t flat out let her win. She needed to work for her victory.

A punch flew a little too close by his nose and he summoned a tendril to grip her wrist. Charlie opened her palm and a sparkle of gold magic shot from her fingertips. He stepped back, his vision obscured, and felt a tug on his shirt. When his eyes refocused, he saw her waving the red piece of fabric, a triumphant grin on her face.

“I think that’s a new record!” She put her hand to her brow as she looked out at the clock tower in the distance. “Only took me twenty minutes this time!”

“Hmph. Let’s see if that’s dumb luck or an actual improvement in skill.” He snatched the handkerchief back from her and tucked it into his breast pocket.

“Can’t we do something different today? I’m getting a little bored with capture the handkerchief. I get it, be unpredictable!”

“Something you’re still quite terrible at,” he said with a coy grin. “I can count on one hand the number of times you managed to best me this past week.”

“C’mon, Al!” She clutched his arm. “If I lose a fight to the archangel of handkerchiefs, then you can poke fun of me all you want. I know you’re eager to stretch your legs more.” She paused. “Err, stretch your tentacles? No, that sounds weird. Anyways, let’s do something else! Give me everything you’ve got! I’m ready for it!”

He had to admit, the thought of really letting loose with his powers was an enticing one. It’s been far too long. And despite the princess’s lack of finesse, he did trust she was plenty capable of facing the brunt of it. She was much stronger than she looked.

“Alright, my dear. Lesson number two!” He extended his arms and felt his powers flowing through him. It was like a muscle he had long been tensing finally relaxed, as thick black tendrils erupted from his back. They raised him high in the air and he clenched his fists, causing swirling pits of void to appear on the ground below him. Green smoke and high-pitched laughter emanated from them. “Assume everyone is trying to kill you!”

He summoned his cane, spun it between his fingers, then pointed it at Charlie. A horde of his shadowy minions erupted from the holes and stampeded towards her. She yelped and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. Alastor threw his head back and cackled. They wouldn’t hurt her. He just wanted to give her a good scare. He’d call them off before they could do any real damage.

With his smile stretched so wide, it nearly ripped off his face, he looked down to revel in his work. What he saw was so unexpected that he almost lost his focus and plummeted to the ground.

His shadowy minions had not attacked Charlie. Quite the opposite in fact. They were cuddling her.

“Hey!” he shouted, his voice fluctuating between a demonic distortion and his regular radio filter. “Stop that!”

Two creatures were hanging off her arms, cooing happily at her. Three more were hugging her legs. Another was playing with her hair. One even had the gall to plop itself in her lap and nuzzle its face against her chest.

“Charlie!” one hissed.

“Chaaaaarlie!” repeated another.

“Love Charlie!”

They chirped their affections like a flock of seagulls in a French fry factory.

“Aww, these guys are kind of cute when they’re not eating people.” Charlie started petting the one that was tugging on her arm and making kissy faces at her.

Alastor’s face burned so hot, it felt like his skin would melt right off. His teeth nearly cracked from how tightly he was clenching them in his smile. “What are you idiots doing?! You’re supposed to be attacking her! Not whatever this is!” He gestured vaguely with his hands.

“Oh shit, wait!” the princess exclaimed. “Is this part of the lesson? They’re gonna act all sweet at first and then try to rip my face off?”

His eye twitched. “Yes, that’s exactly right.” The radio demon snapped his fingers, and with a chorus of agonizing shrieks, his shadowy minions were ripped from existence.

Charlie looked sad for a moment at losing her little admirers, then she hopped to her feet. “So did I pass this lesson?”

“With flying colors, my dear,” he said heatedly, his cheeks still reddened.

They were interrupted by the sound of screeching tires. A delivery van suddenly came barreling through the hotel gates and skidded to a stop mere inches from Dazzle’s statue. Charlie ran towards it, shouting obscenities at the driver.

He hopped out of the vehicle. “Got a delivery for Chonky Mumblestank?”

“Do you mean Charlie Morningstar?”

“Yeah whatever. Here.” He opened up the back of his van and plopped an absurdly large bouquet of flowers into the princess’s arms. “There’s a singing telegraph too but I ain’t doing that shit.” He shoved a piece of paper into Alastor’s hand, then hopped back in his van and sped off.

The radio demon read the telegraph out loud. “Thank you for a lovely time at lunch. Looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Oh, how nice!” Charlie said offhandedly. She smiled at him, then shifted the flowers in her arms before heading back to the hotel.

Alastor felt like an air raid alarm was blaring in his ear drums, drowning out all other sounds around him. A burst of green flames enveloped his hand and turned the telegram to ash. He could still see the delivery van zipping down the road away from the hotel. As soon as Charlie was inside, he shot a flurry of tendrils at it, leaving nothing but a single tire that continued bouncing down the street.

He clutched his trembling fists at his sides, barely able to contain his rage. His shadow hissed and slithered on the ground underneath him. Its face was twisted in a scowl, and for once Alastor felt envious that he couldn’t match the expression.

Envy was too weak of a word to describe what he was feeling right now.

Chapter Text

Toot toot!

Alastor brought the wooden train whistle down from his lips. How did his afterlife come to this? He was one of the most feared overlords in hell. Yet here he was, making locomotive sounds as Charlie chugged around the hotel lobby and pumped her arms to emulate the wheels of a train. He scratched his head. And why did he agree to wear the conductor’s hat? It was so itchy.

“All aboard the gratitude train!” she shouted cheerfully.

“When you said we were running a train in today’s lesson, I had something very different in mind.” Angel Dust thrusted his hips as he followed behind her.

Husk was next in line. “Choo choo, motherfuckers!” he slurred, gripping tightly to Angel’s waist to keep from falling over. He was clearly inebriated. A wise choice for today’s activity, Alastor thought to himself.

Charlie pulled an imaginary lever and stopped in front of Niffty. “This train runs on happy thoughts! To get aboard, you have to tell me what you’re most thankful for.”

Niffty bounced up and down excitedly. “Knives!”

“Err, are you sure, Niff? There isn’t anything else you appreciate more?” The princess motioned around them. “What about your friends?”

The little bug shook her head with a manic grin. “Nope. Knives!”

Charlie blinked at her, then smiled encouragingly. “Well, okay. Hop aboard!”

Toot toot!

Alastor pulled out a splinter of wood that had gotten stuck between his teeth. He flicked it to floor with a grumble. Why did he keep letting Charlie talk him into helping with these group activities? This was by far one of her silliest ideas. She had explained it to him, something about getting people to open up more. Pairing movement with discussion. Yadda yadda. He had zoned out halfway through.

The princess had even dressed up for the occasion, wearing a pair of stripped overalls with a handkerchief tied around her neck. He watched as she guided the hotel guests around the room. How they all didn’t find this demeaning was beyond him. Some of them even seemed to be enjoying themselves, swinging their arms in sync with hers as their imaginary train lumbered along. She really did have a way with people. An unrelenting ray of sunshine that could melt even the coldest curmudgeon.

The iceberg encasing his heart had certainly thawed a bit.

Alright, maybe it hadn’t taken any convincing at all on his part to help. Maybe he had volunteered the first time. And the second. And the three times after that. And maybe he specifically asked if he could blow the train whistle. He had always wanted one of these as a child.

Doorbell chimes echoed through the hotel lobby and the train of sinners came to a screeching halt. Charlie excused herself and hurried to the front entrance. She returned a few minutes later with a stack of boxes almost as tall as she was.

“Woah, are these from Devil’s Advocake?!” asked Angel Dust. The boxes did indeed have a fancy gold label that bore the name of the pastry shop. “Even their donuts have like a three-month waitlist!”

“Really? Never heard of them before.” Charlie replied.

“It’s super famous. Run by that celebrity chef who went crazy, trapped all the contestants of her baking show in a tent, and set the tent on fire. They say the secret ingredient in her bonbons is a little sprinkle of ash. Ya know. From the burnt corpses.” Angel grabbed a few boxes from the stack and helped her bring them to the bar area. “Who are these from anyways? That secret admirer of yours?”

The princess laughed nervously. Her eyes darted up briefly to where Alastor was tucked in the shadows by the lobby staircase. He was already staring at her with a tight smile, awaiting her response. She quickly looked away. “I don’t have a secret admirer. It’s just a friend showing their support for the hotel.”

Angel whistled. “I dunno, toots. In my experience, nobody love-bombs you like this unless they’re trying to get in your panties.”

Alastor’s nostrils flared in anger. He realized he had crushed the train whistle in his claw and quickly whisked it away with his magic before anyone noticed.

Charlie turned to the group and clapped her hands together. “Who wants cake!”

“I’ll get my knives!” Niffty scurried away to the kitchen.

As the hotel guests enjoyed their afternoon treats, the radio demon quietly lurked around the table, trying to look discreet as he checked if any of the boxes had the sender’s name on them. First it was the flowers. Then a case of vintage wine. Then a cage of exotic birds, who survived all of five minutes before Ted the lizard pervert ate them. And now these fancy cakes?

Each gift was more extravagant that the last, and none of them gave any inclination as to who Charlie’s new friend was. It was driving Alastor mad. Why the anonymity? Did they not want anyone in the hotel to know who they were? Did they think it added some level of intimacy that Charlie wouldn’t need a name on the box to know who it was from?

He supposed he could just ask her about it, but he didn’t want to make it seem like it bothered him.

Even though it did, in fact, bother him. Quite significantly.

Charlie looked his way and smiled. She had plopped an especially large slice of cake onto a plate and skipped over to offer it to him. He waved his hand politely to decline.

“No thank you,” he said curtly. “Not a fan of sweets.”

She frowned slightly. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know. You seemed to like dad’s pancakes.”

Alastor gave a staticky hum of annoyance. He’d eat a thousand of Lucifer’s pancakes before taking a single bite of this clandestine casanova’s confections. He chose his next words carefully. “This friend of yours seems quite enthusiastic about our hotel. I’m curious as to what type of person would express interest in our endeavors here without actually wanting to check in as a guest.”

Charlie shoveled a piece of the cake into her mouth. “Just some business type who’s interested in helping us make some of the day-to-day around here a little easier.”

“My dear, if you require assistance with all that clerical work, you need only ask. And as your business partner, shouldn’t we be making decisions about these types of things together?”

“Of course, Al. I’d never make a decision like this without you.” She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly. “We only just started talking. And you’re a busy guy! I didn’t want to bother you with all the nitty gritty details until I knew for sure it was something that would be good for the hotel.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, somewhat satisfied with her answer. Something flashed across the princess’s expression. Was it guilt? Alastor couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more she wasn’t telling him.

“Mornin’, Al!”

“Good morning, my dear.”

Alastor hung his coat on one of Dazzle’s stone claws. As he began rolling up his sleeves, he watched Charlie in his peripherals as she did her silly stretching exercises. It was routine for them at this point, one that he actually quite enjoyed. The physical activity first thing in the morning kept his mind sharp, and although they had only been at it for a few weeks, he had seen a significant improvement in his stamina when using his powers.

And he certainly wasn’t complaining about getting to spend most mornings together, just the two of them. Their own private prelude to the day’s melody, before the chaotic chorus of the hotel and its occupants could drown out their duet.

Though this morning, their song struck a dissonant chord. The radio demon’s mood instantly dampened as he watched a delivery truck sputter its way up the hill to the hotel.

“Another one?” he grumbled under his breath as he watched Charlie head over to greet the driver. It was almost like whoever who sending these gifts knew Alastor’s schedule and wanted him to see when they were getting delivered. And on a daily basis now?! The cakes from yesterday hadn’t even staled yet.

After dropping the package off inside, the princess jogged back to him. “I’ll deal with that later. Now! What’s on the agenda for today?”

He refocused his attention to their morning routine. “I thought we’d circle back to some close-quarters combat.”

She fell into step next to him as he headed towards their training area. “Really? Last time we did that you said, and I quote, I couldn’t punch my way out of a paper bag even if I dipped my fists in gasoline and set them on fire.”

He chuckled. “Yes, and that’s exactly why we must keep working on it. But today’s lesson is about more than just honing your hand-to-hand fighting skills.”

“More like hand-to-creepy-shadow-tentacle-things,” she muttered.

“Being in close quarters with your enemy is an opportune time to figure out their weakness. It could be something physical, like a limp from an old injury. Or something emotional. A sullied memory you can bring up that sends them into a clumsy rage. You have to find that loose thread and pick at it until they unravel.” He peered down at her from behind his monocle. “Tell me, Charlie, what do you think my weakness is?”

She studied him for a moment and then shrugged. “I dunno. Knives? I think most people are weak to knives. Just ask Niffty.”

He placed his hand to his chest with a smug grin. “Trick question. I have no weakness. Now would you like to know what yours is?”

She rolled her eyes. “I know you’re gonna tell me anyways.”

“You’re kind.”

“Kindness isn’t a weakness, Alastor.”

“It is when it makes you hesitate.” He turned to face her, hands tucked behind him as he walked backwards. “That glimmer of compassion in your eyes, that second your fist pauses before making contact with your opponent’s face, that body language that lets everyone know that you don’t actually want to hurt them. These are all moments your enemy will take advantage of. And make no mistake, princess. If the roles were reversed, they won’t be offering you the same mercy.”

“But I don’t want to hurt anyone! What’s so wrong with that?”

“Sometimes our inaction causes the most harm of all. The high road isn’t always the path painted with the least amount of blood.”

Her eyes clouded with regret and she halted in her tracks, hugging her arms to herself. “I suppose that’s true.”

Alastor stopped as well. His goal here had not been to make her doubt herself. “You told me not to hold back in these trainings,” he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Now I’m asking you to do the same.”

She still looked hesitant. “I don’t know, Alastor. Fighting exterminators was one thing, but you’re my friend! What if I actually hurt you?”

His smile curled mischievously. “Oh darling, it’s funny you actually think you can. But I would really like to see you try. If not for your benefit, then at least for my own entertainment.”

“You’re just trying to egg me on, aren’t you?”

“Is it working?”

She smirked. “A little.”

Alastor whistled to himself as he strode to the other side of the training area. He slung his cane behind his back like a baseball bat and beckoned her with his free hand. Charlie leveled herself with a calming breath, then her eyes shot open, alit with determination. His mouth stretched wide, baring his teeth in a challenging smile.

She sprinted towards him and swung her firecracker of a fist. Red and gold magic flew past his shoulder as he dodged it. He heard a faint sizzle from the errant sparks that singed a piece of his hair.

“A lucky first shot!” he laughed. “That is, if you were some kind of scissor-less barber.”

The radio demon retaliated with a black tendril that wrapped around the princess’s wrists and dragged her forward. She stumbled to the ground, but managed to rip her arms free and catch herself. The tendril came for her again and she blocked it with her forearms, summoning a magical barrier. The appendage disintegrated upon making contact with it.

Alastor swung his cane down and a barrage of spear-like tentacles attacked Charlie’s shield. She struggled to her feet, arms trembling as her magic began to weaken. The barrier broke and she felt back down with a pained grunt. He sauntered over and brushed his knuckles on his shirt before offering her his hand.

She smacked it away and stood up on her own. “I’m just getting warmed up, deer boy.”

“Deer boy?” He sneered at her. “Is that the best you can do? Did you learn your insults from the same children’s dime novel you learned your magic?”

The sparring continued, a whirlwind of dark tendrils against a shimmering shield. Alastor moved with a deceptive speed, the eye of his cane a red blur as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. Charlie blocked, dodged, and rolled, her movements uncoordinated but determined. He didn’t relent, each blow chipping away little by little at her defenses.

Just as she faltered, about to be overwhelmed, the princess dropped to her knees. She slammed her fists into the ground, gritting her teeth in concentration. A new barrier erupted, stronger, brighter. Its gold light enveloped the surrounding shadows. The radio demon cocked an eyebrow, genuinely impressed by the show of power. He quickly composed himself.

“Another shield. I never could have predicted that,” he mocked. With a wriggle of his fingers, he summoned a portal in the sky about them. He clenched his fist and a giant fireball dropped from the hole.”

“Shit!” Charlie dove out of the way just as the fireball hit her shield. Its golden glow fizzled into nothingness as the green flames engulfed it. The hem of her skirt had caught fire and she frantically patted it out. She looked up at the radio demon, her eyes spearing him with daggers.

He leaned lazily against his cane. “Had enough yet, my dear?”

“Not even close.” A fierce grin split her face as she hauled herself to her feet. She raised her fists, crackling red with power, and charged towards him.

A pair of tentacles sprouted from his back, effortlessly blocking her attack. One wrapped around her waist, the other her arm, and gave her a dizzying spin.

“If you were half as good a fighter as you were a dancer, this might actually be a challenge for me!” Alastor laughed as he grasped her hand and twirled her back towards him.

Charlie pushed away from him. “Geeze, is this what you were like in your fight with Adam? Were you trying to sass him to death? No wonder you lost.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You watch your mouth, missy.”

She came for him again, but something felt different this time. With each successful block, each surge of magic, her movements grew more precise, her control solidifying. Static and sorcery sizzled in the air as fist met tendril. She managed a hit against his shoulder. Another grazed his chest. Her magic stung like the thorns of a pricker bush, but it hardly fazed him.

“Honestly, Charlie. I thought I would have broken a sweat by now.”

“Do you ever shut up? You’re just all talk and tentacle!” The heat from her magical sparks got a little too close to his ears that time.

“Almost!” he taunted.

“You’re really not even that good at smack talk,” she continued. “None of us understand half the old-timey crap you say.”

He chuckled at her attempt to get under his skin. “You lot just don’t appreciate my Machiavellian whimsy.”

“You know who is good at it? My dad. You should have heard some of the stuff he said to Adam!”

Alastor rolled his eyes as he sidestepped one of her attacks. “I know what you’re doing, Charlie.”

“Do you?”

Something silver whizzed past the radio demon’s face, slicing his cheek like a barber’s razor. Before he could react, he felt the wind get knocked out of him. He flipped through the air and landed hard on his back. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t move.

Charlie had him pinned to the ground. She straddled his waist, her thighs squeezed on either side of his hips. One hand pushed his shoulder into the dirt while the other gripped her trident. His neck was sandwiched between two of the prongs, the tips of the angelic steel pressed threateningly against his throat. His other arm was also immobilized, and he realized her tail was tightly wrapped around it. It weaved up his forearm and around his palm, making it so he couldn’t close his fist.

Alastor’s eyes slowly rose to meet the princess’s fiery gaze. Her own glowed a demonic red, illuminating her face and the sleek black lines that had stretched down to her cheek marks. Her horns stood like jagged stalagmites among the loosened strands of her golden hair, which glimmered like a halo in the early morning light. Sweat beaded her skin and he could see her chest expand and shrink as she caught her breath. Her black lips were curled in a triumphant grin.

“What’s that you said about finding a loose thread?” The hand on his shoulder slid down to his chest and she toyed with one of his shirt buttons. “You’re overconfident, Alastor. That’s your weakness.”

Alastor’s breaths came in ragged puffs, each one failing to fill his lungs with air. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm against his ribs like a rogue bass drum in a marching band. The world swayed gently around him, making him feel like he was intoxicated. He must have knocked his head a little too hard against the ground. Might have pulled a few muscles too, as a tight tension pulsed in his gut.

No, it was a little lower than his gut.

There was an acute ache between his legs. Alastor’s knees trembled, and not from the weight of Charlie on top of him. He suddenly became very aware of a part of his anatomy that he normally paid no mind to. Glancing down, he was mortified to see the tent in his trousers.

A loud crack of feedback emanated from his chest, followed by the sound of a handgun and people cheering.

“Aaaand we’re off to the races!”

The radio demon snapped his teeth together like a steel trap to shut himself up, swallowing the involuntary broadcast back down his throat.

Charlie looked down at him confused. She pulled back her trident and released her hold of him. “Are you okay, Al? I didn’t hurt you did I-eeeEEE!”

A shadowy tendril shot up from between his legs and knocked the princess off of him. He still couldn’t move, frozen in place like a possum playing possum.

“Ithinkthat’senoughfortodaygoodworkmydearseeyoutomorrow!” Alastor’s voice pitched high and low, cracking between frequencies. He melted into a puddle of darkness and disappeared, leaving a very confused Charlie sprawled out on the ground and rubbing the bump on her head.

As soon as Alastor materialized in his radio tower, he slumped against his bookcase, knocking several dusty old novels to the floor. His heart was still pounding and he clutched his hand to his chest, feeling like he was holding close a door while a beast charged angrily at it from the other side. He was unbelievably hot, his shirt damp with sweat. The room was too humid and he wanted to crack a window, then he remembered they didn’t open. Maybe he could throw a brick through one of them. He knew there was a stack of them around here somewhere. Deciding against it, he tugged off his bowtie and unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt.

Sweat dripped over his brow and trickled down his cheek. It stung and he wiped at it, feeling bits of dried blood crumble away from the small cut there. That caused the wound to reopen and he looked at the fresh blood on his fingers. His hand was trembling and he clenched his fist. Static buzzed thickly in the air like a swarm of cicadas on a summer night.

This feeling was so wild and unfamiliar. It gnawed at him like a desperate hunger. An infernal monster that threatened to consume him from the inside out.

Charlie had shown him just a glimpse of her full power. She had beaten him. Quite easily, once she finally listened to him and stopped throwing her punches.

He had hoped the princess would surprise him like that. But he hadn’t expected to find her so… so…

Arousing.

He shifted uncomfortably and tugged at his collar, feeling like his shirt, his pants, his boots, even his own skin didn’t fit properly. His little tussle with the princess had sexually excited him. Even now, he was still hard. Just thinking her name made his pulse quicken and his trousers grow even tighter.

He’s never felt this way before. Not to this extent. And most certainly not as a result of someone else. As a human, he was grateful that his lack of romantic interest had been paired with an appropriately tempered libido. Sexual arousal plagued him so rarely, and when it did, there was never any reason behind it. No lewd thoughts sullying his mind. No object of his affections working him up into a tizzy. In his afterlife, it was even less of an issue.

Well, until now that is.

This infatuation with the princess had escalated beyond just a fleeting school boy crush. The fondness he felt for her, a warmth stirring in his chest, had blazed out of control into a burning desire.

He replayed the moment over and over again in his head. Charlie so effortlessly tossing him over her shoulder and pinning him to the ground. He could still feel the weight of her on top of him, the warm softness of her thighs pressed tightly against his hips. Her sunny gold hair cascading around her face like a wildcat’s ruff before it struck a killing blow. The smell of sweat and ash, a feral perfume, clinging to her skin. And her eyes! Locked with his in a fiery challenge. The anger, the confidence, the fearlessness. He might have nurtured the flame, but the fire itself? That was all Charlie.

The power she had held in that moment. She could have so easily driven that trident into his neck. Or speared him through the chest with her devil tail. Or kill him a hundred different ways before he even knew what hit him. He had been completely at her mercy. But she didn’t hurt him. She’d never. It wasn’t just her potential that impressed him. It was the immense control she had. So much raw, devastating power packaged into such a kind, gentle woman.

Charlie was absolutely terrifying.

And Alastor was absolutely captivated by her.

He slumped down in his armchair, mind tormented with these new revelations. His shadow had been watching him, hollow eyes and antlers peeking over the top of his radio console. Its smile was jagged across its face, stuck somewhere between amusement and disgust.

The radio demon ran his hands through his hair and laughed helplessly. “What a woman,” he mumbled to himself.

Charlie sat between Dazzle’s stone claws as she stared up at the radio tower. There was a faint glow pulsing through the windows, telling her that Alastor was inside. She hugged his dress coat to her chest. He had vanished from their training so abruptly that he forgot it, along with his sticker for their progress chart.

She contemplated heading up there now to give him the items, but decided against it. He obviously wanted some space. The radio demon was a prideful man and she was sure he wasn’t used to losing. Although he had told her she did a good job. At least that’s what she thought he said. She couldn’t really make out the garbled mess of static he screeched at her before disappearing.

Angry with herself, the princess kicked her heels a little too hard against the base of the statue. She had gotten carried away and now Alastor would probably never want to train with her again. Spending her mornings with him were the best part of her day. And he was a surprisingly good teacher. Sure, his taunting could grate on her nerves sometimes, but she actually… sort of liked it. She knew the radio demon could be cruel, but the way he teased her was different than with other people. It was endearing. Playful. A little flirty, too. He could definitely turn on the charm when he wanted to, but it felt special with her. Like her own private radio station that he broadcasted just for her to hear.

She hopped to her feet. There was no sense sitting here and stewing in her own thoughts. She headed back inside the hotel and saw the package from earlier by the concierge desk. Her lips pursed. It was thoughtful, but these gifts really were getting excessive. Maybe she should reach out to Vox and politely ask him to stop sending them. It wasn’t going to affect her decision about his offer, anyways.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and saw a text message from an unknown number.

Hope your guests like their new tech. ;)

Charlie looked at the box, then back at her phone. She texted back.

C – Vox?

V – :)

C – How did you get my number?

V – Forgot to ask you for it after our lunch date. Looked it up in our system.

She frowned. It didn’t matter if he was head of his own tech company, that felt like a line you shouldn’t cross. As she peeled back the tape on the box, her phone buzzed once more.

V – I’d like to see you again. How about Friday night?

C – I still haven’t decided about your offer.

V – That’s fine. There’s actually something else I want to discuss with you.

C – Regarding what?

V – A networking opportunity.

C – The people kind or the internet kind?

V – You’re cute. The people kind. So what do you say? I was thinking some place more casual. Do you like boardwalk food?

Charlie opened the box to reveal several stacks of very expensive-looking digital tablets. She turned one over and saw it was engraved with one of their hotel guests’ names. After sorting through the box, she realized there was one for everyone. She found hers and couldn’t help but smile at the little hearts engraved on either side of her name.

The princess picked up her phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

C – I’ll never say no to a good corndog.

Chapter Text

The hotel was eerily quiet for a Friday night.

Every night in hell was a fine night of debauchery, but for most sinners, Fridays marked the start of a weekend full of gambling, drinking, sexcapades, and whatever other destructive hobbies got them sent there in the first place. Since the majority of hotel residents were trying to sustain from such hedonistic behavior, they stayed in and found less damning ways to entertain themselves.

Alastor was used to the thumping outside his door or loud music leeching through the ceiling below him. It annoyed him to no end, but he did enjoy lurking around the corridors and scaring the unliving daylights out of anyone he encountered. He’d dampen their good times one by one, like a leerie extinguishing the lamplights along a street as dawn approached.

On this particular night, however, he would have welcomed the noise. He yearned for a distraction, anything to break the relentless echo of his own thoughts. When it wasn’t preoccupied, his mind drifted to her, the princess. He replayed their interactions in his head, dissecting every word that passed between them, every carefully measured touch, searching for meaning, for a clue to how he'd gotten here. Here, lost in a labyrinth of unfamiliar emotions and urges, hopelessly captivated by a woman he shouldn't want.

And by golly, did he want her.

How, exactly? Alastor couldn’t figure out. It frustrated him so, like an itch under his skin that he couldn’t reach no matter how hard he scratched.

This silence was entirely too suspicious and he left his radio tower to investigate. Halfway down the hallway he ran into Peppy the adulterer. Quite literally. The man had his head down in some miniature television screen and barely reacted when they bashed shoulders.

“Watch where you’re stepping!” the radio demon hissed as he spun on his heels.

“Uh huh,” Peppy mumbled, eyes still fixated on his screen.

Alastor glowered in disbelief as the sinner continued shuffling down the halfway. He sunk into the shadows and slithered down to the study, where he found a handful of people lounging about with those same devices in their hands. No one even acknowledged him as he materialized in the middle of the room.

“What are you lot doing?” he asked sharply.

Heather the cheerleader killer popped the gum in her mouth but didn’t look up. “Reading,” she replied.

Not a single actual book was in anyone’s hand. The bookcases that stretched along the study’s walls stood lonely and forgotten, their contents undisturbed. With a staticky grumble, the radio demon disappeared again and headed towards the lobby.

Husk was joined at the bar by Angel Dust, both of them also distracted by their tiny televisions.

“Have you tried this new app call ThotBot? It uses that fancy woo-woo computer crap that thinks like a person. It can say some reeeeal raunchy shit if you ask it. Here, look.” Angel’s fingers flew across his screen. Looking pleased with himself, he showed it to Husk.

The bartender’s face scrunched in disgust. “That’s nasty, man.”

Alastor had been sitting at the bar for several minutes and loudly cleared his throat. Both men looked over at him like he had just appeared out of nowhere. His smile stretched tensely. “We’re not paying you to stand there and do nothing, Husker.”

“You’re not paying me at all,” Husk muttered as he grabbed a glass. With an annoyed glare, he filled it with whiskey and slid it down the counter.

“What are these little picture screens that seem to have utterly consumed everyone’s attention?” the radio demon asked.

“Charlie hooked up the entire hotel with the latest VoxTek tablets,” Angel replied as he swiped lazily on his.

The tumbler exploded in Alastor's hand, a geyser of amber liquid and jagged glass erupting into the air. “VoxTek?” he repeated, his voice a deep, rough static. The lights around them began flickering.

“Yeah, that guy who’s been trying to rizz her up sent them,” Angel continued. He was so busy on his tablet, he didn’t even notice the shards of glass that covered the counter or the strobing lights around them. “Must have spent a fortune too, this model isn’t even out yet! Maybe he works there or something. I dunno. Lotta effort just for some royal p-”

Husk, who had his eyes on the radio demon, jabbed his elbow into Angel’s side. He frantically shook his head and made a cutting motion across his throat.

The blood in Alastor’s ears was pounding like a war drum. His veins thrummed like guitar strings. He could feel his shoulders hunching and his claws elongating. It took all his self-control to not let his true demonic form rip out of him.

It all made sense. The anonymity, the extravagant gifts, the delivery schedule. Why Charlie didn’t tell him who she’s been meeting with.

It was Vox.

“Uhh, you okay boss?” Husk asked hesitantly.

Black and green magic billowed around the radio demon’s flickering form. His eyes darted to the tablets that Husk and Angel Dust were holding. He raised his hand, fingers cracking and bending unnaturally. The offensive technology began smoking and then burst into flames, melting into abominable globs of glass, metal, and plastic.

“Shit!” Angel yelped as he tossed the remains of his on the counter. He clutched his hand, his glove scorched through to the skin.

Alastor clenched his fists and the string lights surrounding them blew out in rapid succession. Feedback screeched through the air, growing louder and louder, causing Husk and Angel to cover their ears. There was a loud pop, then the entire hotel went dark. After a beat of silence, shouts of alarm and confusion could be heard on every floor. The radio demon had destroyed everything electronic in the building.

Angel scrambled to take his cellular device out of his pocket, which had also caught fire, and played hot potato with it in his hands. “What the fuck! Why did you break my phone?!”

Alastor rose from his stool, claws shredding the wooden counter into splinters. “So long as I’m here, no one in this hotel is using anything that no-good, two-timing, box-headed fucker slaps his name on!” His shadows began funneling around him and he disappeared in a whirlwind of darkness.

“CHARLIE!!” he bellowed to no one. He had reappeared a moment later in her empty bedroom.

Alastor paced back and forth, his heels leaving scorch marks on the carpet. How could Charlie – sweet darling Charlie, ever the virtuous princess, his business partner, his friend, the only person in all seven rings of hell that he trusted – be meeting with Vox in secret?

Vox has been a shark circling their fledgling hotel since it opened, waiting to sniff out any weakness and attack. What was his plan? Dig up everything he could on Charlie and blackmail her into doing whatever he wanted? Destroy everything she and Alastor had built in the last year and rebuild this place in his own image? Poison the princess’s mind with lies and fabrications so he could take Alastor’s place by her side?

Alastor was no stranger to Vox’s vindictive tactics, but this felt different. Like a violation of a gentlemen’s agreement. It was too personal.

The hotel was one thing.

But Charlie was his.

A sickening possessiveness clawed its way through the radio demon’s chest. Vox was clearly trying to charm the princess, with his lavish gifts and feigned interest in helping the hotel. Alastor imagined those predatory eyes, lifeless behind their glossy screen, looking at Charlie in all sorts of ways that made his stomach churn. He clutched his head and shook it violently, not allowing those thoughts to further manifest.

Something caught his eye under the pile of papers on Charlie’s desk. Their progress chart, a folder full of lesson plans, a stack of evaluation forms from heaven, he began flinging them all aside until he saw the VoxTek tablet. It was face down. On the back, Charlie’s name was engraved and bookended by two hearts.

A fresh wave of fury crashed through him.

Alastor picked it up and flipped it over. The manic red glow of his eyes shone brightly in the dark screen. His reflection quivered, then the screen completely shattered. The tablet cracked and dented as he crushed it in his hand. He threw it angrily on the desk and teleported back down to the lobby.

“WHERE IS CHARLIE??” he demanded. The harsh static of his voice rattled the glasses behind the bar.

Husk had soaked a rag in cold water and was holding it against Angel Dust’s burnt hand. The two shared a concerned glance. “She’s… out,” he said.

“WITH WHO??”

Both looked too scared to answer him, but Alastor already knew. His limbs began cracking and stretching. He lunged for the main doors, going on all fours as he grew in size.

“I’M GOING TO RIP HIM APART!!”

“Stop!” Husk flew forward to put himself between the radio demon and the exit. “Think about what you’re doing. If you go after Vox, you’re gonna bring down all sorts of hell on this hotel. And more importantly, on Charlie.” He slowly put up his hands, trying to calm the monster in front of him. “I know you don’t want that, boss.”

“GET OUT OF MY WAY, HUSKER!!” Alastor raised a tentacle and swung it at him.

“Hey!” Angel intervened, grabbing the shadowy appendage with all six of his arms. “Husk is right,” he said through gritted teeth, body trembling from the exertion. “We already fought a war with heaven. We don’t need you starting another one with the Three Vee’s. Charlie’s a tough broad. She’s smart too! Whatever business she’s got with that boob tube, I’m sure she can handle it.”

The radio demon shrank down to normal size. He looked between the two men, rage burning in his eyes. He hated that they were right. What’s worse, he hated that this was exactly what Vox wanted. To get such a rise out of him that he would burst through the doors of V Tower in a blind rage to confront him. Alastor would give that highfalutin con artist no such satisfaction.

Without another word to Husk or Angel Dust, he straightened his bowtie and disappeared.

The rotted wooden planks of the boardwalk groaned in protest beneath Charlie’s hooves. She nibbled on her corndog as she took in her surroundings. Food stalls lined the walkway selling skewers of mystery meat, buckets of foods that should never be deep fried, and something called a pickled funnel nugget that looked like it belonged in a jar on some mad scientist’s shelf. Every other shop was selling colorful t-shirts spray painted with misspelled jokes and offensive slogans. The occasion scream pierced the air, and the princess wasn’t sure whether someone was having a good time on the rickety old rollercoaster or getting stabbed in some dark alleyway.

Vox flicked pieces of stale popcorn into his mouth (Or against his screen? His anatomy was so weird!) as he watched her with a smirk of amusement. “Is this your first time here?” he asked.

She nodded. “I had no clue this place existed.” A portly sinner in a speedo came barreling towards them on rollerblades and she scrambled out of his way. “It’s… err, charming!”

Vox discreetly stuck his foot out to trip the guy, who went spinning headfirst into a nearby garbage can. “An overlord by the name of Old Cap built this place. Have you heard of him?”

Charlie shook her head no.

“The demon shark of the east coast. That’s what everyone called him when he was alive. He ran a waste disposal business and had mob connections from Coney Island to Miami. Struggled a bit down here though. Poor Old Cap didn’t do too well in a landlocked city. He tried to adapt, but he was too hung up on the good old days. A fish out of water who refused to grow legs.”

“So this place was like a little slice of his old life?” she asked. “That’s sweet. And kind of sad.”

Vox hummed unsympathetically. “Eternity is a lot more fast-paced than people realize. You either got to keep swimming or the current will suck you under, bash you against the rocks, and spit out your mangled corpse.”

She grimaced at his graphic analogy. “So what happened to the guy?”

“Ended up in debt to a few too many overlords to keep this place running. Lost everything. Exterminators got him back in the 90s. This place was a dump until us Vee’s took it over a few years back.”

That made sense. There were as many strip clubs along the boardwalk as there were arcades. Some spots even seemed to be a two-for-one deal. They just passed such a place now, where a lady in nothing but fishnet stockings and boob tassels was playing an impressive round of skee-ball for a crowd of her male admirers.

Vox caught her looking and grinned. “You up for some games?” He nudged Charlie towards a booth with a faded banner that said Knock Em Dead! Dusty stuffed prizes hung ominously around it, like prisoners swinging at the gallows.

“Step right up, boss!” the carnie barked in a voice that sounded like it had a few centuries of smoke inhalation. “Knock over three clowns and win a prize for that hot date of yours.”

The princess waved her hand politely. “No, I’m not his d-”

“Just watch this, Charlie,” The television demon interrupted, handing her his popcorn bucket. He flashed his teeth in a charming grin. “I always kill it at these carnival games. The trick for this one is to hit the clown right in his dumb fucking smug smile.” He slapped a few bills on the counter and the carnie passed him three balls.

Vox threw the first one and it fell short a few feet from its target.

“Shit, wait. Just need to get warmed up.”

The second grazed past the clown’s frizzy red hair.

“Fuck.”

He lobbed the third one as hard as he could. It bounced off the ledge and flew back at them. Charlie ducked and narrowly missed being hit in the head by it.

“Heh, these things are always rigged,” Vox muttered. He dropped more money on the counter. The next round was equally unsuccessful. He glared at the carnie and shoved another few dollars into his hand.

“Third time’s the charm, right?” he said, winking at her. Charlie gave him a weak smile of encouragement.

Vox angrily chucked the first ball and it actually made contact, but the clown didn’t budge. Grumbling to himself, he hunched over the counter as he rethought his strategy. His fingers drummed irritably on the splintered wood, then a tiny spark of electricity shot from them. The lights on the control panel behind the carnie flickered for a moment.

He tossed the next ball up and down in his hand a few times. Giving the princess another wink, he threw it at his target. It made contact and all three rows of clowns fell down simultaneously. The lights around the stand began flashing to signal a victory.

“Err, we got a winner, I guess?” the carnie said, scratching his head. He gestured towards the plush menagerie dangling above them. “Pick your prize, boss.”

The television demon, a sly grin on his face, placed a hand on Charlie’s back and gently ushered her forward. “Go on, my dear. I won this for you.”

Charlie blushed, stammering her thanks. Her gaze darted to the display, landing on a specific plushie. The carnie plucked it down for her. “Enjoy the rest of your night,” he mumbled as he stuffed a cigarette into his mouth. “Fucking cheater.”

“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” Vox commented as they walked away. “What is it even supposed to be?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. A cat maybe? I think it’s kind of cute.”

“I don’t think cats have forks sticking out of their heads. Why doesn’t it have a neck? And what’s wrong with its eyes?”

She shrugged and hugged the red plushie close to her. She liked it. It gave her an oddly familiar sense of comfort.

“How about dessert. Do you like cotton candy?” Vox jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at a nearby food stand.

He snagged two cones of the tooth-rotting fluff, holding one out to Charlie before gesturing to a nearby bench. As they settled in side-by-side, Vox’s arm slid casually along the back of the bench behind her.

“So you’ve really never heard of Old Cap?” he asked. “I thought your family was all about this kitschy carnival stuff.”

“That’s sort of more my dad’s thing,” the princess replied.

“You don’t seem too up-and-up on your overlord knowledge. I assumed given your friendship with the radio demon-” A jagged line flickered across Vox’s screen. “That you’d know a bit more about the politics around here. Has he connected you with any other overlords?”

“Not really. I did meet his friend Rosie from Cannibal Town.”

“Sweet lady. And she’s about as far as his network reaches. The man was gone for seven years. And before that, no one really liked him anyways. He was tolerated at best because of his mediocre powers. We’re in a new age of overlord reign! One where we need to work together as a cohesive unit to keep order in our beloved city.” Vox took a bite of his cotton candy and motioned to Charlie with it. “And you, as princess of hell, should play an important role in that.”

She considered his words, knowing there was some truth to them. “How would I do that?”

“I’m glad you asked, my dear, because that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” The television demon tossed the remains of his cotton candy at the nearby garbage can, missing it. He scooted closer to Charlie, draping his hand over her shoulder so he was practically holding her in a half-embrace. He took his phone out of his pocket, swiped the screen, and show it to her.

Some kind of digital invitation was displayed. She read it out loud. “The 667^th annual overlord summit. Black tie attire required. Heavy artillery optional.”

“Every few years we hold an overlord summit,” Vox explained. “Now this isn’t just your average little get-together. All the big players are there. Alliances are formed, century-long grudges are settled, and anybody who’s anyone makes sure their voice is heard as we work together to maintain the delicate balance that is civility down here. With the exterminations being postponed indefinitely and your hotel growing in popularity, there’s a lot on the agenda this year. V Tower is hosting and I’d love for you to come as my guest of honor. You can properly introduce yourself to some of the highest rollers in hell and make sure they know that their princess means business. What do you say?”

Charlie scooted away from him. “I-I don’t know. I appreciate the invite, I do. But I should probably run it by Alastor first.”

Vox’s expression soured. “I didn’t realize you needed his permission.”

“I don’t. But if the Hazbin Hotel is going to be represented at this big important meeting, he and I should be doing it together. We’re business partners.”

“Alastor rarely bothers to show up to these things. That prick thinks he’s so-” Vox exhaled sharply, stopping himself. “I-I mean these things really aren’t his jam. The guy’s not a team player. If you ask me, I think he hasn’t helped you expand your network because he wants to keep you all to himself. He’s afraid that if you make any new friends, ones more powerful than him, that he’ll lose his hold on you.”

The television demon’s voice dropped low and he leaned in closer. Charlie felt his hand slide down her arm. “You don’t need a man like that in your life, Charlie. One who’s just trying to control you. One who’s stopping you from reaching your full potential. You need someone who will treat you like an equal.”

She pushed away from him and stood up, clutching the red plushie close to her chest. “And is that person supposed to be you?”

He gave a coy shrug. “Why do you think we’re called the Three Vee’s and not Vox and his two cronies? It’s because I see my business partners as equals. That’s just how I operate.”

“That’s how Alastor and I operate too,” she stated firmly. “I’m not going to replace him with you, Vox. He’s done a lot for me. A lot for the hotel, I mean.”

“And I’m not expecting you to, princess. All I’m saying is don’t let the radio demon influence your decision. Attend the overlord summit because you want to. If you don’t, that’s fine! I won’t be offended, and my previous offer will still stand. But don’t stay home just because he tells you to.”

Charlie thought for a moment. She knew the television demon was untrustworthy, but the overlord summit did sound like a great opportunity for her to build her reputation among Pentagram City’s elite.

“I still want to let Alastor know. Maybe he’ll want to attend if we do it together.” She straightened up, trying to look regal and authoritative. “But regardless of his decision, I’ll be there.”

Vox leaned back on the bench, a cunning smile on his screen. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Alastor sat hunched in Charlie’s desk chair, a silhouette swallowed by the darkness. The only light in the room bled in from the window, casting an angry red glow on his clenched fists. The silence was deafening, punctuated by the minutely tick of the clock tower outside. Every second chipped away at his control, his fragile hold on the bitter flurry of rage and betrayal that was brewing inside him.

The door creaked opened and a pale hand patted the wall in search of the light switch.

“Did you have fun on your little date?”

Charlie startled and dropped whatever she was carrying in her arms. It bounced along the floor and the radio demon stopped it with his boot.

“Shit, Alastor! You can’t keep scaring me like that.” She frowned. “And it wasn’t a date, mind you. Just a business meeting.”

“With Vox.”

The accusation hung heavy in the air between them. Her eyes went wide with shock, then clouded with guilt. She took a few cautious steps towards him, hands raised defensively.

“Let me explain.”

Alastor looked down at the thing he was stepping on. It was some kind of stuffed toy. Probably another gift from that flat-headed bastard. As he stood up, he crushed it under his heel, green flames licking his boots and incinerating it into ash.

He stalked towards Charlie while shaking an accusatory finger at her. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Vox you’ve been meeting with?”

She looked down dismayed at the remains of her gift, then her eyes met his in an icy glare. “Because I knew you would react like this.”

“So you were going to hide it from me?!”

“No, of course not!” Charlie defended. “Listen, I know Vox is sketchy as fuck. But so where you when you first got here! And I trust you now. Most of the time, anyways. He deserves to be given a chance just as much as you were. I wanted to hear him out, without the history you two have together complicating things.”

“Nothing that mendacious media mogul could offer you would be good for this hotel!” Alastor picked up the broken tablet sitting on her desk. “These little mind scrambling screens? He’s using them to spy on everyone here!”

She snatched it from him, turning it over in her hands to inspect the damage. “Did you break this?!”

His smile snarled angrily. “I took the liberty to dispose of all these cheap tokens of affection Vox sent you.”

“What the hell, Alastor?! You had no right to do that!”

“And you had no right to go behind my back and meet with my worst enemy!”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought you said my dad was your worst enemy. And the other day at breakfast, you called an empty jar of marmalade your worst enemy. Half the people in this city would probably qualify as your worst enemy. And I didn’t go behind your back. I was going to tell you! Whether it’s from VoxTek or someplace else, we do need to modernize some things around here. For hell’s sake, you don’t even know how to work a microwave!”

“Pardon me for not liking when my food turns into a lukewarm rubbery pile of goo,” he spat out. “I know you’re not this foolish! Don’t you see he’s using you?! To get to me!”

“Not everything is about you, Alastor!”

“In this instance, it most certainly is!” He gripped her shoulders. “Charlie, please listen to me. I’ve known Vox a long time. That man is all garnish and no meat. He hides behind his fancy gadgets and powerful friends. The only time he shows interest in anyone is if they have something he wants. And if you don’t give him what he desires, he’ll make an enemy out of you faster than a lost bee in a hornet’s nest. I know. That’s what he tried to do to me.”

The princess’s temper mellowed as her eyes searched his. “What happened between the two of you?” she asked softly.

Alastor pulled back, surprised that he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable. “Nothing noteworthy. We were friends. Then we weren’t. I ripped his head off a few times.”

He didn’t like how Charlie was looking at him, scrutinizing every minuscule movement he made. Every breath, every blink, every twitch of his face. She saw right through his smile, a thin sheet of glass that did little to obscure the raw emotion shimmering in his eyes.

In a gesture of peace, she closed the gap between them, her hand outstretched like an olive branch as it landed gently on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Al. Maybe we can chat, all three of us, at the overlord summit this weekend.”

Feedback cracked in the room like a boom of thunder. Alastor’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he jerked away from her. “The overlord summit?”

“Yeah, Vox said it was some big fancy meetup you guys have every few years.” She nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought… I dunno, maybe you and I could go together? As business partners, I mean. It could be fun!”

“Charlie, you can’t be serious.” The radio demon’s voice was sharp and condescending. “Do you have any idea what the overlord summit even is? It’s not some bougie gala for the city’s movers and shakers to mingle and drink champagne. It’s a viper’s pit! A gladiator’s arena with nothing but lions! A treacherous, cutthroat meeting of the most cunning minds in hell. One misstep, one misspoken word and you’ve got a dozen daggers at your throat. We don’t consider it a successful evening unless a least a dozen people need to be sewn back together.”

“Oh c’mon, Al. I can handle a few stab-happy overlords. I think it’s important we build a good rapport with them. We’re gonna be bumping against their operations eventually, at the rate our hotel is growing. We’ve already got Angel, Heather, and the guys from Carmilla’s warehouse. We should make friends with these bigshots before they start to think we’re poaching their people.”

“It’s too dangerous.” He summoned his cane and tapped it loudly on the floor to signal the end of this conversation. “I forbid you from going.”

“I’m sorry, what? You forbid me?” Her face twisted in anger, black lines splitting the pink marks on her cheeks as her eyes flared red. Who the hell do you think you are?! My dad? Or… or…” Her face was almost as red as her pantsuit. “My husband? It’s not the 1930s and I’m not your submissive little housewife! I don’t need your permission to do anything!”

“I-” The statement and its insinuation caught Alastor totally off guard. “N-No! That’s not what I-”

“If you’re so concerned about my well-being,” Charlie cut in, her hands balled into tight fists. “Then use the favor I owe you to stop me from going.”

He opened his mouth to respond, finger raised to emphasize his point, but then stopped himself. His eyes widened with alarm as he realized he was about to do just that. Cash out his deal with the princess over something as stupid as this. He folded his arms and raised his nose at her with a defiant “hmph”.

Charlie’s shoulders drooped, her anger simmering into disappointment. “That’s what I thought,” she said defeatedly. “See you at the summit. Or not. Do whatever you want. But I’m definitely going.”

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. A minute later, she came back in and pointed out to the hallway.

“This is my room. You get out.”

The radio demon didn’t use the door, instead dissolving into a black haze and billowing to the ceiling like smoke in a house fire. He appeared in his radio tower a moment later in a blind fury. With a demonic screech of frustration, fiery tentacles shot from his form and knocked over his bookcase, sending books and knick-knacks flying across the room. He took several ragged breaths as his rage settled, then immediately regretted his action. Frantically, he dropped to the floor and scrambled through the pile of burning books, breathing a sigh of relief when he found the radiator repair manual had survived with just a few singed pages.

Alastor slumped against the toppled bookcase and took out the photo from inside the manual. His chest ached. This wasn’t his angelic wound acting up, or strain from his little outburst, or indigestion from the raw deer he had stress ate in its entirety earlier that evening. This pain was deeper.

“Oh mama,” he said to the photo. “Why does she make me feel this way?”

Chapter Text

“Your coochie is hanging out.”

Charlie glared at the mirror’s reflection of Angel Dust, who was lounging on the bed behind her. She thought he would offer some helpful advice for dealing with the Three Vee’s tonight, but all he had done was provide a running commentary about her choice of attire like a snarky fashion critic.

“You’re not gonna be able to wear panties with that thing,” Angel pointed out.

She tugged on the bottom of her dress to cover the frilly bits of her underwear that were sticking out.

“Or a bra,” he added.

Pulling the dress lower had now caused her bra to peek out of the top. She turned around to inspect her backside, then let out a resigned sigh. “I can’t go out like this. Maybe I should just wear something of my own.”

“Velvette isn’t gonna like that,” Heather the cheerleader killer warned. She was seated on the floor as she scrolled through her phone. Her remarks had been only slightly more helpful than Angel’s.

Vox had sent Charlie one last gift – an outfit for the overlord summit. The dress was stunning, a velvety blue that shimmered with an almost dangerous allure. But for all its beauty, it felt like a costume on her. The fabric clung so tightly to her figure that it looked painted on. The plunging neckline dipped south of diplomatic and the hem barely grazed mid-thigh. An iridescent fringe lined the bottom and did little to offer any more coverage. It looked like something she’d wear for a night out binge-drinking and club-hopping, not to a meeting with the most dangerous minds in hell.

But despite her reservations, she couldn’t ignore Vox’s generosity. He had invited her after all, and years of royal etiquette taught her that refusing a gift for such an occasion would be the ultimate social faux pas. She retrieved the long black gloves that were still in the gift box. Nestled beneath them was a note, typed in a font meant to resemble handwriting. It read I asked Velvette to make this specially for you. You’ll be the belle of the ball tonight!

“Making a few minor adjustments wouldn’t hurt, right?” she thought out loud.

“Velvette isn’t gonna like that either,” Heather commented.

Charlie, with a flick of her wrist, conjured a ribbon of sparks. It weaved itself into the fabric of the dress, transforming the offending neckline and short hem. The essence of Velvette’s design remained, but the added modesty was much more to the princess’s taste.

“There! Much better!”

Angel Dust watched her as she finished getting ready. “So you’re really going to this thing all by yourself? That’s ballsy.”

Charlie’s lips pursed in annoyance. “I wanted Alastor to come with me but he’s being a real butthead about it.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” He rubbed the bandage that covered his hand.

Guilt washed over her. She took full responsibility for Angel getting hurt in the crossfire of her current feud with the radio demon. “I’m sorry, Angel. How’s your hand?”

“It’s fine. I’m more pissed about my phone. And ya know, the TV, internet, and everything else in this place that chucklefucker broke. When are you gonna get this shit fixed?”

Her cheeks puffed out like a disgruntled chipmunk and she folded her arms across her chest. “Alastor is the one who broke those things so he can be the one to fix them.”

“So the rest of us gotta suffer in the meantime?”

“It’s the principle of it! If that jerk thinks that every time he throws a tantrum, I’m gonna clean up the mess he makes, then he’s got another thing coming!”

“Here we go,” Heather muttered.

“And the friggin’ audacity to get mad at ME?! Hell forbid I keep one teeny tiny little secret from him, which, mind you, I was literally on my way to tell him about! How many things do you think he’s keeping from me, huh?! You know why his antlers grow so big? It’s because they’re chock FULL of secrets! He’s such a hypocrite!”

With a bored roll of his eyes, Angel sarcastically mouthed along to the princess’s rant. It was well-rehearsed at this point.

“And what?” she rambled on. “I’m not allowed to talk to any other overlords? I suddenly need his permission to make any new friends? No wonder he barely has any himself if this is how he treats them!”

Angel scrubbed a hand down his face. “Charlie, I’m begging ya. I already quit drugs. I’m cutting back on the booze. I haven’t sucked a guy off for a free steak dinner in months. Please don’t take away my cute baby animal videos. They’re all I have l left.”

She let out a vexed puff from her nose. “Alright, fine. I’ll call the repairman tomorrow morning.”

As the princess headed downstairs to the lobby, she spotted Alastor at the bar. Was he waiting for her, knowing she would be leaving soon for the overlord summit? It was the first time she’d seen him since their fight. Funny how a man who had zero respect for anyone’s personal space could also be so incredibly elusive. She had actually shown up for training the morning after their argument, hoping the two of them could work through their issues, but he was nowhere to be seen. He skipped meals, bailed on all her group activities, and if it wasn’t for the eerie glow in his radio tower, she’d assume he had packed his bags and left.

Charlie’s frustration toward the radio demon hadn't faded. In fact, with each day he avoided her, her anger towards him grew. But simmering beneath that was a deeper well of sadness.

She missed him.

The time spent together, the easy laughs, the quiet moments that made this hotel feel like home. Alastor’s presence had become a constant, comforting hum in her life. Now the silence of his absence was deafening.

She knew she needed to apologize. But so did he! And for once in her life, she didn’t want to be the first to cave.

He watched her as she descended the stairs, eyes cold and judgmental, a disdainful smile stretched unnaturally wide across his face. When she reached the bottom, his gaze flitted up and down her form and he let out a disapproving hum.

“I didn’t realize it was prom night,” he snarked at her.

“I didn’t realize you knew what a prom was,” she retorted.

“We had proms back in my day. Read a history book sometime, sweetheart.”

“Why do that when I could just look it up online? Oh wait, I can’t! Because you blew up our router!”

“Will you two shut the fuck up? I’m trying to nap!”

Charlie just noticed Husk at the other end of the bar with his head down on a pile of dirty rags. She threw Alastor one last heated glare, then slapped on a cheery smile and waved at the bartender. “Bye Husk! I’m off to the overlord summit. Don’t wait up.”

“Please don’t drag me into your fucked up foreplay,” Husk muttered under his breath as he turned away from them and put his head back down on his raggedy pillow.

“The audacity!”

Alastor downed his drink and slammed it back on the bar for a refill.

“The utter foolishness!”

He knocked back that one too.

“The complete lack of respect!”

He snatched the liquor bottle from Husk’s hands and began drinking directly from that.

“Can you believe her, Husker?! The gall that woman has! Going behind my back like that! And then to rub it in my face like this! Have I not been a faithful business partner? Have I not indulged her every whim at this hotel? What could that despicable box of wires have to offer than I don’t?”

“Literally anything made after 1933,” Husk replied, completely deadpanned.

The radio demon took a swig from the bottle. “Oh, she’ll get her comeuppance tonight, I’m sure. Those overlords will pick her clean like a pack of hyenas. Vox will scam our dear sweet princess out of this entire hotel, or worse, her soul. She’ll trudge back here with tears in her eyes and a chain around her neck, and I’ll tell her I told her so!”

Husk watched Alastor stew in a noxious blend of rage and rotgut whiskey. "You know, it’s okay if you’re worried about her,” he said, treading carefully. “It’s normal to worry about someone you care about.”

Alastor's eyes ignited with a fire that paralleled the harsh liquor burning in his gut. With a snarl, he slammed the empty bottle down on the counter. As he clenched the neck of it with his claw, it magically refilled itself. “The only thing I care about is getting something better to drink than this piss-poor excuse for whiskey you’ve been serving me.”

“Uh huh.” Husk rolled his eyes and busied himself with cleaning glasses.

Alastor lost interest in his bottle of conjured booze and began nervously drumming his fingers on the counter. “Charlie will be alright, won’t she?” he asked, more to himself than to Husk.

“She can take care of herself.”

“Undoubtedly.” His leg began bouncing. “But perhaps it would be best if I popped in. Keep an eye on things. Can’t have our princess making a total fool of herself. It’s bad for business.”

“Uhh, boss, I really don’t think that’s a good-”

“Great idea, Husker!” Alastor exclaimed, throwing himself over the counter to give the tiny cat man a hearty pat on the back. “That’s why you’re our bartender!” With that, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Charlie craned her neck back as she stared up at V Tower, an imposing monolith against the scarlet sky. A nervous looking gray-skinned demon was waiting for her at the entrance, sandwiched between two burly security guards. She figured from his headset and the overstuffed clipboard he carried that he was Vox’s assistant.

“Princess Morningstar? Right this way. Mr. Vox is waiting for you.”

He led her through the doors and she barely had time to take in all the flashy advertisements of Vox and his two associates before the assistant ushered her into an elevator. As it began its descent, she felt the temperature drop lower and lower.

The elevator opened up into a vast cavern. It looked man-made, with perfectly smooth rock walls that sharply angled into vaulted ceilings. Blue veins of precious gems branched along the stone and pulsed with light. The bar was carved out of those same glowy crystals. Behind it sat the bartender in a basin of water, expertly shaking up a cocktail with each of his eight arms.

As Charlie followed the assistant through the crowd, she felt like every set of eyes were on her, sizing her up like a prized pig at a farm show. The air crackled with a strange energy, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. Whispers followed behind her. The words were indecipherable, but their menacing tone made it clear she was an unwelcomed sight.

“Princess!” Vox called to her.

Charlie felt a small rush of relief at seeing a familiar face. Vox shooed off his assistant and took her hand. Her fingers twitched at the tiny shock of static she felt when he lifted it to his screen for a kiss.

“Don’t you look lovely. Blue is definitely your color, my dear.” He tugged on the lapels of his indigo tuxedo. His cummerbund and bowtie were the same velvety blue as her dress. “We’ve got some time before dinner starts. How about a drink?”

She waved her hand politely to decline. “I-I really shouldn’t.”

“Aww, c’mon! It’ll help you loosen up a bit.” He whistled to the bartender and held up two fingers. A moment later, a waiter appeared and handed them their drinks. Vox raised his in a toast. “To new partnerships,” he said smoothly.

“Err, sure!” Charlie clinked her glass with his.

“Speaking of which, I can’t help but notice your loyal business partner isn’t here with you.” The television demon made no attempt to conceal his sarcasm.

The princess took a long sip from her drink. “Alastor refused to come. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to focus on tonight.”

“That’s for the best. Don’t let that old timey prick ruin your fun. Now how would you like to meet the rest of the team?” He put his hand around her shoulder and guided her to a closed off section of the cavern. The lounge area was filled with a pink haze, through which she could make out the silhouettes of Valentino and Velvette.

Vox coughed and swiped at the smoke to clear a path for them. “I know you and Valentino met under less desirable circumstances. But how about a proper introduction?”

Valentino rose from his seat and sauntered over to the pair. “Mmm, Princess Morningstar. Good to see you again. Don’t you just look good enough to eat.” He slung his arm around Vox’s neck and smacked his lips. “Here to see how many more overlords' hearts you can steal tonight? You’re building quite the collection from what I’ve heard.”

Charlie gave him an uneasy smile. “Y-Yeah, I’m excited to make some new friends here!”

Valentino chuckled to himself, as if amused by an inside joke he wasn’t going to tell her. “I take it you’re treating my Angel Dust well?”

Protectiveness flared in her chest. She crossed her arms. “I take it you are?”

“I give him all the time he wants at that cute little hotel of yours, don’t I?” Valentino turned to Vox and tapped him playfully on his screen. “You always did like a girl filled with spunk.” Looking back at Charlie, he winked at her. “But there’s always room for a bit more, right?”

Vox’s eye twitched, causing his screen to glitch. He knocked Valetino’s arm off his shoulder with a forced smile. “Val and his dirty jokes, you learn to love them.”

Valentino plopped back down in his seat, looked pleased with himself. Next to him, Velvette had been staring daggers at Charlie, her glare as sharp as her eyeliner. Her phone was face down and forgotten on the cushion next to her.

The princess smiled nervously and waved. “Umm, hi! You must be Velvette. It’s nice to-”

“What the fuck did you do to my dress?”

“Oh! Well, thank you so much for making it. It’s really beautiful! But just a smidge too short for me. And a little tight. So I made a few teeny tiny adjustments to it.”

“Lay off the bonbons then, you tubby bitch!” Velvette strutted over to Charlie and jabbed her finger into the princess’s chest. “NO ONE changes a Velvette original!” Her hand started glowing and she snapped her fingers.

Charlie sucked in a sharp breath as she felt the dress shrink and constrict around her. The cold, dank air in the cavern hit her skin and her entire body goosebumped. She felt very exposed, but didn’t want to upset Velvette any further, so she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself.

Valentino leaned forward and lowered his tinted glasses to get a better look at her. His gaze seemed to undress what little was left of her outfit. “Look at all that you’ve been hiding.”

“I must admit, this one does suit you better.” Vox placed his hand, a little too low, on her newly exposed back. “How about another drink? We’ve got some mingling to do.”

Alastor slipped in and out of the shadows as he made his rounds of the cavern. He had mostly gone unnoticed and he wanted to keep it that way. His plan was simple – grab Charlie, give a few choice words to Vox, then get the hell out of dodge. He’d be back in time for his favorite Sunday evening radio program and the princess can tell him how sorry she is over breakfast tomorrow morning.

“Alastor?” A large crest of feathers bobbed above the crowd of overlords. Rosie gave an excited wave, gathering up her skirt as she hurried towards the radio demon. “What a surprise! You haven’t bothered to show up to these shindigs for the last few decades.”

He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, eyes still searching the room for Charlie and her gracious host.

Rosie frowned and placed a hand on her hip. “Well, don’t look so happy to see me.”

“Mmm yes, just dandy,” he mumbled, obviously not paying attention. His ears folded back as he spotted a familiar flat-headed demon. Vox’s obnoxious fake laughter could be heard across the room. His blonde companion was nodding along politely to whatever bunkum he was trying to beguile her with.

Rosie had been going on about something, but Alastor hadn’t heard. She slapped his arm. “Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

“Mmm yes, just dandy,” he muttered again.

She followed his gaze. “Oh, is Charlie here with you?” A sly smile spread across her face and she gave him a playful jab in the ribs. “Look at you, Alastor! Bringing a date to the overlord summit! Just couldn’t wait to show off your royal arm candy, huh? Well, go and fetch her so I can say hello!”

“I didn’t invite her. Vox did,” he growled behind gritted teeth. He watched as the television demon headed to the bar and Charlie made conversation with some nearby guests. “Excuse me, Rosie.”

Shadowy hoof prints trailed behind him as he stalked purposely towards the princess. Her eyes went wide when she spotted him. For a moment she almost looked relieved, then her face scrunched in annoyance. She stomped in his direction, grabbed his arm, and yanked him off course.

“What are you doing here?!” Charlie hissed.

“I don’t recall you rescinding your invitation. Not that I even need one. I’m an overlord myself and-” Alastor stopped mid-sentence. He retreated a step, his eyes following the curve of her figure with a slow, simmering heat. “Did you… swap your attire?”

“It’s the same dress. Velvette got mad that I altered it so she changed it back.” The princess wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously.

Alastor swallowed against the buzz in his throat. He could feel his eyes trembling in their sockets with the overwhelming urge to drift down. He coughed into his fist and found an interesting spot on the ceiling to stare at instead.

“It looks ridiculous.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask for your fashion advice. Listen, Alastor, I’m glad you decided to come. But I’m still mad at you! And I don’t want you screwing this up for me. If you’d like to have a civil conversation, you, me, and Vox, then let me know. But if not, then just leave me alone and let me do my own thing tonight!”

“Am I interrupting something?”

Alastor’s eyes glowed for a moment as that voice grated against his ears. Vox appeared beside Charlie, two drinks in his hand. He handed one to her and smiled smugly at the radio demon.

“Alastor! How good of you to show up. I was worried you’d be much too busy tonight trying to shove your head up your own ass, antlers first.” He leaned in closer. “By the smell of it, it seems like you succeeded. Glad you could make time for us, old buddy!”

Alastor bared his teeth at the man. “As Charlie’s business partner, it’s my duty to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.” His smile pulled taut and he winced, instantly regretting the words the moment they left his mouth. Charlie scoffed in offense and turned away from him.

Vox looked downright giddy. “As her business partner, you don’t seem to have much confidence in her.” He put his hand on the princess’s shoulder. “C’mon along, my dear. Dinner is about to be served.”

As they walked away, Vox leaned in close to whisper something to Charlie, pressing his screen against her ear. The hand on her shoulder slinked down her back, his thumb grazing along the curve of her spine. He looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with Alastor, grin widening sinisterly.

Alastor could feel the blood boiling in his veins, causing wisps of black steam to rise from his body. His fingers cracked and clenched at his sides, summoning a shadow that slithered along the floor towards the television demon. Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder broke his concentration.

“Green ain’t your color, honey.” Rosie turned him back towards her. Her lips were pursed in a thin line of disapproval.

He gave a sarcastic laugh. “You think I’m jealous? Of Vox? Not in a million afterlives!”

“Well, he’s been getting pretty cozy with your gal all night.”

“Charlie isn’t my gal,” he snapped, feeling the back of his neck prickle with heat. “She’s a naïve do-gooder with an irritating lack of foresight in this situation. And I am simply trying to do some damage control before she ends up giving half of Pentagram City to one of the worst men this town has ever seen.”

Rosie let out a soft sigh, and when Alastor looked at her, he saw she was hiding a smile behind her hand.

“What?” he asked, his filtered voice fluctuating in irritation.

“You really are sweet on that girl. I think it’s cute how much you’re worried about her.”

He grumbled incoherently under his breath, feeling the heat on his neck spread to his face. The lights in the cavern began flashing, signaling for everyone to take their seats for dinner. Alastor followed Rosie to their table, which of course was situated as far away from Charlie and Vox as possible, tucked in the furthest corner of the banquet area with a large pillar blocking their view.

Alastor stretched his neck around the stone column as he continued to spy on them. They were deep in conversation and Charlie suddenly laughed, her cheeks blushing pink. “What could possibly be that funny,” he muttered to himself.

A staticky grumble buzzed in his chest as he watched a waiter bring the pair a bottle of expensive-looking liquor. Vox poured a glass, took a sip, then raised it to the princess’s lips. Alastor heard a clatter and saw his silverware had fallen to the floor through a hole in the tablecloth. His claws had been tearing it to shreds.

The final straw was during dessert, when the television demon had the audacity to offer Charlie a bite of his cake, using the same fork he just had in his own disgusting mouth. Alastor banged his fists on the table and flew up from his chair, alerting the attention of everyone around him. Even the princess looked his way. Vox did as well, deliberately licking the fork clean as he stared down the radio demon with a wicked smile.

Rosie grabbed the lapel of his dress coat and yanked him back into his seat. “You need to get your shit together!” she hissed.

“My shit is entirely neat and well-ordered!” he hissed back.

Charlie rose from her chair and headed towards the powder room. Seizing the opportunity, Alastor bolted up and darted after her.

“Alastor!” Rosie tried to grab his arm but he wriggled out of her grasp. “Oh, good grief!” she hollered after him.

Charlie was washing her hands at the sink. She looked up when she heard someone enter the powder room, then did a double take when she realized it was Alastor. “What are you doing in here?! This is the ladies’ room!”

“I need to speak with you privately,” he said tensely.

“Can’t it wait? I’m about to give a speech in front of all the overlords in hell. I don’t need you getting in my head and throwing off my groove like you always do.”

His brow furrowed in anger. “Vox is the one getting in your head! Don’t you see this is all just an elaborate ruse? He wants to embarrass you like he tried to do with that television advertisement!”

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What television advertisement?”

“Why don’t you ask him about that.”

Charlie threw her fists down in frustration. “Will you just STOP, Alastor?! Is this the only reason why you came here tonight? To yell at me some more about how stupid and naïve I am?!”

The door creaked open as someone else walked into the powder room. They make a face when they saw the radio demon. “Eww, get out of here, you pervert!”

“GO PISS YOURSELF!” he screeched at the intruder. She shrank back and scurried out the door.

He turned towards Charlie and his anger instantly simmered into a dull ache in his chest. She looked utterly distraught. Her hunched-in body language, the quiver of her bottom lip, the scorn in her eyes, which he knew was directed at him. And despite how frustrated he was with her, he was overwhelmed with the desire to comfort her. What frustrated him more was that he didn’t know how. They stood together in a tense, suffocating silence.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Alastor said after a moment. “Naïve? Sometimes, yes. But stupid? Never.”

She hugged her arms to herself, looking down at her hooves. “You sure do make me feel that way sometimes.”

“That has never been my intention.”

A flurry of excuses queued up in his mind, but they died on his tongue before reaching the air. Her silence was a deafening response.

Charlie sighed and rubbed her temples. “I need to get back. They’re waiting on me to get started.” As she put her hand on the door, she glanced back at the radio demon. Her eyes glossy, the look she gave him felt like a strike to the chest with another angelic weapon. “Why do I let you get in my head like this?”

“Charlie…” he called after her, reaching out a hand. She slammed the door behind her and he was left alone in the powder room.

The room darkened and Alastor saw his shadow creep along the grooves in the rock wall. Its head was severed in a gleeful grin, clearly enjoying his current distress. He scowled at it, the corners of his own smile curling at the ends in a failed frown.

“If you’ve come to berate me, I’m afraid you’ll need to take a ticket and wait your turn.”

His shadow began snickering and wrapped itself around his shoulders before sinking back into his person. Alastor brushed off his dress coat, fixed his smile, and headed back out to the banquet area.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

“On behalf of VoxTek Enterprises, thank you all for coming! Please let me introduce our very special guest and a dear friend of mine. You might know her as the exterminator of the exterminations, the spawn of the devil himself, our very own princess of hell, Charlotte Morningstar!”

Charlie waved sheepishly to the crowd as she approached the podium. “H-Hi everyone!” her voice squeaked out. She cleared her throat and straightened her posture. “Hi, hello! Crap, I already said that. I’m Charlie. That’s what my friends call me. And you can call me that too because hopefully we’ll all be friends really soon!” She smiled brightly and was met with awkward silence and a crowd of deathly stares.

“Woo! You go, girl!” hollered a friendly voice from the back of the room. The princess spotted Rosie, who gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up when they made eye contact. Next to her was Alastor, at or least one of his ears and an antler. Charlie could barely see him behind the gigantic stone pillar in front of their table.

“You probably all know me from my hotel. The Hazbin Hotel, that is! Where we welcome any sinner looking for redemption!”

A burly-looking boar demon at a nearby table blew a loud raspberry. “I heard you’ve been in business nearly a year and haven’t redeemed a single soul. Sounds like a scam, if you ask me.”

“That’s not true! One of our hotel guests heroically sacrificed himself and earned his spot in heaven. And once the angelic council is in agreement, I’m sure we’ll have folks in droves knocking on those pearly gates!”

Carmilla Carmine was a few tables over. “Are you saying you don’t even have heaven’s support yet?”

“’Tis a most concerning revelation,” added the black-clad overlord seated next to her.

“Err, it’s complicated,” Charlie stammered. “There’s lots of paperwork that heaven keeps asking us to do… and they haven’t gotten back to us on any of it… but no news is good news, right?! I mean, what’s a few more months compared to the rest of eternity?”

“Oh my god, this dumb cunt has no idea what she’s doing.” That comment was from Velvette.

“Why’d you get rid of the exterminations?” someone yelled. “They were good for business!”

“I lost half my night crew to your stupid halfway house!” shouted another.

The princess put out her hands as a gesture of peace. “I know some of you might have concerns about your workers taking up residence with us. But that’s why I wanted to speak with you all because I think it’s something we can mutually benefit from!”

“Is this bitch trying to put a cap on the number of souls we can own?!”

Angry chatter erupted among the overlords. Charlie darted her eyes around the room, panic rising like bile in her throat. She spotted Alastor, who had sprung to his feet, gripping the edge of his table like he was about to throw himself over it. His gaze locked with hers, something fierce blazing in his narrowed eyes. He looked ready to tear out the throat of the next person who challenged her.

Something about the radio demon’s response ignited a spark of determination within the princess. Despite everything, he really had come here tonight to support her. And if she had one of the most stubborn and enigmatic overlords of hell in her corner, she could definitely win over the rest of them. The panic inside her hardened into a steely resolve.

“Alright folks, simmer down,” Vox cut in. He gave Charlie a reassuring smile. “Why don’t we pivot to a more productive topic of discussion? I know you’re all eager to hear about the new model of VoxTek tablets that are about to hit the market.”

The princess shook her head firmly. “No. I’ll take whatever questions you all have. Fire away.” She pointed to the first overlord. “Why did I get rid of the exterminations? Because they were horrible and I didn’t want any more of my people – our people – to die.” Her head swiveled to address the next one. “Maybe if you paid your night crew the overtime they deserved, they wouldn’t have quit before checking into my hotel.” Then the last. “While I’m not a big fan of the whole owning souls thing, it’s an ancient rite that I don’t have any control over. So no, I’m not trying to stop you all from doing that.”

“Humor me, dear princess.” The tall gentleman next to Carmilla spoke again. “How will thy haven for redemption seekers provide benefit to we who claim domain of this ring?”

Charlie took a calming breath. “My hotel is about more than just getting folks into heaven. It could be a thousand years before another sinner gets redeemed. It could be a thousand more before heaven even agrees to accept them! But the work I’m doing, and more importantly, the work our hotel guests are doing, isn’t in vain. Every day they work harder to improve themselves. And even if none of them get a golden halo around their head, they’ll still become better people and hell will be better for it.” She motioned around her. “Power. Control. That's why you're all here, isn't it? Maybe some of you crave it for its own sake. But I think for most of you, your reasons go much deeper. There are things down here worth protecting. The communities you’ve built, the livelihoods you work so hard for-”

She found her eyes drawn to Alastor.

“-And the people you care about.”

He slowly sat back down, his grin curved in that lopsided way that she’d come to realize meant he was impressed.

“Whatever the reason, you all have one thing in common,” she continued. “You want hell to be better. That’s what I want too! And I know that by giving sinners a chance to better themselves, that will benefit all of us.”

Charlie gestured to Carmilla. “Ms. Carmine! How have the vibes been at your warehouse? We’ve got a few of your boys at our hotel.”

Carmilla looked a little caught off guard. “I suppose their lifted spirits have increased their work ethic.”

“That’s something, isn’t it?!” The princess looked back at her table. “Velvette, how has Heather’s rehabilitation affected her modeling?”

Velvette, who was busy on her phone, didn’t look up. “I liked her better when she was cunty.” Vox cleared his throat next to her and she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. She’s nicer to the other models and I guess that’s… good for morale or something? I don’t bloody care.”

“Laurel and Leonard love you, Charlie!” came an encouraging shout from Rosie.

Charlie smiled broadly. She could feel the chasm of tension slowly shrinking between her and the room of overlords. The hostility in some of their eyes dampened, replaced by a flicker of something more neutral. Tolerance, maybe? Dare she say a grudging respect? A newfound confidence surged through the princess.

“Any other questions? And please raise your hands! We’re going to be civil about this.”

After waving goodbye to the burly boar overlord, Charlie looked around to make sure no one was watching before stuffing his business card inside her bra. She had nowhere else to put it. Following the business portion of the overlord summit, she was swept in a whirlwind of questions, compliments, a few threats, and the occasional offer of a blood pact as she socialized with hell’s deadliest sinners.

“It’s getting a bit stuffy in here, don’t you think?” Vox appeared by her side and swapped out the empty glass in her hand with a fresh drink. “What do you say we head somewhere a little more private? Less chatty?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” she chirped happily. “I want to mingle some more!”

His face was a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Of course, my dear. Have at it.”

As the princess weaved through the crowd, she spotted Alastor and Rosie at the bar. Rosie broke into a wide grin and waved excitedly, while Alastor spared her a short glance over his shoulder before returning to his drink.

“Look at you! Thrown into a swamp of alligators and you snapped right back!” Rosie had abandoned her grumpy companion and greeted Charlie with a tight hug.

“Rosie! It’s so good to see you again!”

“It’s been too long, honey!” Rosie pursued her lips coyly. “I keep asking Alastor to bring you by, but he’s always got this, that, or the other excuse not to.”

Charlie laughed uneasily. “Yeah, he and I aren’t on the best terms right now.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

She glanced over Rosie’s shoulder to where the radio demon was sulking at the bar. The stools next to him remained vacant as he hissed at anyone who got too close.

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Rosie began. “He’s just worried about you. Doesn’t want to see you get hurt. I’ve known Alastor a long time and this is uncharted territory for him.”

“What is?”

“Caring about someone.” Rosie smiled. “And he does care about you, Charlie. Quite a bit.”

“He does?” Charlie could feel heat rise in her cheeks as she continued watching the radio demon. Inside her chest, her heart began fluttering. The anger she felt towards him the last few days had muddled her affection for the man. She had almost forgotten how good this fuzzy feeling felt. She gave a stubborn pout. “He’s got a funny way of showing it.”

Rosie laughed. “Most men do.” She nodded towards the bar and winked at the princess.

Charlie hesitantly approached Alastor. His ears twitched in time with the click-clack of her heels against the stone floor. As she leaned against the counter next to him, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Lovely speech,” he murmured.

“Thanks.”

“You’re very good at that.”

“Giving speeches?”

“No. Well, yes, that too. I meant inspiring people.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Charlie was still nursing the drink Vox had given her. She took a sip and shivered as the ice-cold liquid went down her throat. Goosebumps prickled her skin and she rubbed her bare arms to stave off the chill.

“Here.”

She heard the rustle of fabric and then something was draped over her shoulders. It was Alastor’s dress coat.

“It’s freezing in here,” he mumbled, crossing his arms and looking away from her. Was he blushing? There was the slightest twinge of pink to his cheeks. “And that ridiculous dress looks like it’s made of tissue paper.”

She pulled it more closely around herself, feeling cocooned by the remnants of his body heat. “Thanks Al,” she said warmly. “I’m glad you came tonight. I appreciate the support.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, looking confused. “I hardly consider any of my actions tonight to be supportive. You made it very clear my meddling was unwelcomed. I’ve kept my distance, as you wished.”

“I’m sorry. I was a bit harsh earlier.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Just you being here tonight is supportive enough for me.”

He looked down at the hand on his arm. For a moment, she thought he was going to pull away from her, but she felt the slightest shift of his weight into her touch. When he met her eyes, his had softened. “Perhaps I was also a tad har-”

“Hey! You cuntbag!” A shrill voice cut through the crowd. Velvette came stomping towards Charlie. “What did I fucking say about changing my-” She stopped and looked the princess up and down, pursing her lips. “Actually, that oversized vintage coat with that dress? It’s a vibe. Carry on. Oh, and Vox is looking for you, by the way.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I’m not his secretary. Fuck you.” She eyed up Alastor and stuck her middle finger at him before walking away.

Charlie spotted Vox on the other side of the cavern near the elevators. He flashed her a charming smile and waved, then his expression soured upon seeing who she was with. She turned back to Alastor with an apologetic grimace.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Go.”

As she made her way across the cavern, she glanced back at the radio demon, unable to read the expression on his face. Not quite annoyance, not quite worry. Something else. He held her gaze for a moment before slinking back into the shadows.

Charlie shivered, but not from the cold, as she followed Vox down a very impractical catwalk towards his work station. The room was filled with monitors, each one like a pair of eyes observing her. She felt like caged bait as she watched the sharks swim alongside her in their tanks as she progressed down the narrow walkway.

“Impressive, isn’t it? I can control nearly every piece of technology in Pentagram City from here.”

The console in the center of the room was covered with even more screens, flashing images of the city, graphs of data, and snippets of computer code that all cycled through too rapidly for her to comprehend. Thick wires hung precariously among all the technology like overgrown jungle vines.

Vox pressed a button on the console. A hidden compartment hissed open, releasing an icy mist to reveal a bottle of glowy blue liquid and two cocktail glasses. Without asking, he poured the drinks and offered one to Charlie.

“I really shouldn’t,” she declined. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

“The night’s still young. What’s one more?” He shoved the drink into her hands then clinked his own with it.

She drummed her fingers on the glass but didn’t take a sip. “So what did you want to show me?”

Vox sat down in the large chair in front of the console. With a sly smile, he patted the arm rest, motioning for her to join him. Seeing as there was nowhere else to sit and not wanting to be rude, Charlie sat on the edge of it, fighting the shiver that crept up her from how the cold metal stung against her mostly bare legs. She nearly fell off when she saw a bundle of wires slither up the back of the chair, like serpents hypnotized by a snake charmer. They attached themselves to the back of the television demon’s head. With a heady groan, he wiped the plasma that started dripping from his mouth.

“Do you know why VoxTek has been the forerunner in technology for so many years? It’s because we hold our employees to a very high standard.”

The monitors above them all flickered to life, displaying an enlarged image of V Tower. Vox swiped his finger in the air and each screen showed a different location in the building. There was the main lobby, where the scary bouncers she saw earlier were still stationed, unmoving and unblinking at their posts. Next was some kind of conference room, dark except for the glow from a single laptop on which his assistant was furiously typing away. Then the cavern, where between his eight arms, the bartender was serving drinks, wiping glasses, and scrubbing the bar counter.

“93% of people will improve their behavior the moment they know they’re being watched,” Vox continued. “Since installing our employee surveillance system, productivity here has nearly tripled! Look at this.” He pressed a button and a series of percentages appeared above everyone’s heads. The ticker above his assistant read 88%. He stopped for a moment, pushing up his glasses to rub his eyes, then took a sip from the coffee mug next to his laptop. The number plummeted to 40%.

“This seems kind of micromangey,” Charlie commented.

“Where you see micromanagement, I see motivation! The numbers speak for themselves.”

“We don’t have that many employees at the hotel. And I’m pretty happy with their work ethic.” Charlie thought for a moment about Alastor, Niffty, and Husk. “Eh, for the most part.”

“I figured you’d say that, which is why I gave it a few tweaks to make it more suitable for your needs.”

The footage of the cavern stretched to fill out every screen. Charlie watched as the dinosaur overlord stomped over to the bar, the ticker above her head at 20%. The bartender pulled out an extra-large shaker and began mixing her drink. She smiled at him and dropped a wad of cash in his tip jar. Her meter spiked to 35%.

“What exactly is this tracking?” the princess asked.

“I call it the Halometer! It determines a sinner’s likelihood to do good.” Vox motioned grandly towards the monitors, looking very impressed with himself. “Imagine how much easier it’ll be to track your hotel guests’ progress when you can literally see it on a screen!”

“So you think you can judge a person’s character by watching them through a camera?” Charlie asked. “I don’t know, Vox. Being a good person is about more than just what you say and how you act. It’s about recognizing the potential for good within ourselves too, and letting that guide our thoughts and feelings. That’s something a computer algorithm can’t calculate.”

Her eyes were drawn to a screen in the corner that was glitching out. The image was staticky and distorted, and the ticker kept jumping between 0% and 50%. She squinted, recognizing a familiar red and black figure every few frames. A smile crept on her face. That must be Alastor.

“And besides,” she continued. “If I tell my hotel guests I’m installing all these cameras to monitor them 24/7, and they’re all on their best behavior because of that, is that really them making genuine progress?”

“A fair point.” He sipped his cocktail and grinned mischievously. “You could always not tell them you’re watching them.”

She frowned. “You mean spy on them? That’s dishonest. What kind of example would I be setting for them?”

“When you’ve been doing business as long as I have, Charlie, you learn that sometimes the end justifies the means.”

She crossed her arms. “Yeah, well… at the end, you still need to live with yourself and the decisions you’ve made.”

Vox leaned towards her, propping his elbow behind her on the armrest as he slowly looked her up and down. There was a vulturous glint in his eyes. “You’re quite the difficult woman to impress, Princess Morningstar,” he murmured lowly. “I must say, I like the challenge.”

Charlie shifted uncomfortably in her spot, still clutching her untouched drink. “I-I, umm… appreciate the idea, though. Maybe a few security cameras wouldn’t be a bad thing. I have been trying to figure out who’s been digging through our garbage.”

“Say no more!”

Footage of the hotel appeared on every screen around them. A view from the front entrance. Another from the roof. A look inside the kitchen window where Charlie could see Niffty chasing something along the floor with her needle. There was a shot of the training area out back, a visible divot in the ground from where Alastor dropped that fireball on her. Not a brick or pebble was left unmonitored.

She was horrified as her eyes darted between the screens. “Is this live? How the heck do you have this footage?!”

“Drones.” Vox tapped a button on the console and the camera view on one of the screens began rotating. A drone appeared in view, its red lens glared like a predator’s eyes in the night. It waved a little mechanical arm at the camera.

Charlie’s drink shattered on the ground as she jumped to her feet. “What the fuck, Vox? Have you been spying on us?!”

“Oh, my dear, of course not,” Vox responded coolly. “I respect you too much to violate your privacy like that. I just happened to have some drones in the area and send them on a little detour to give this demonstration. I’m not breaking any laws. Airspace regulations in hell are very lax, and by that I mean completely nonexistent.” He winked at her. “You should tell your old man to get on that. Now c’mon.” He patted the armrest. “Let me show you what these little guys can do.”

Charlie hesitantly sat back down, all too aware of Vox’s arm draped over the armrest behind her. She felt one of his fingers graze her thigh and she shifted away from him, though there wasn’t much space to move.

“Let’s see what rabid woodland critter is digging their filthy claws where they don’t belong,” he said.

The princess watched as the drone buzzed around to the side of the hotel. She gave a tiny “aww” of endearment when a raccoon’s head popped out of the garbage can. The drone began beeping and the creature cocked its head curiously. Then it was pelted with bullets until nothing was left but a few tufts of fur.

Charlie clasped her hands to her mouth in horror. She glanced at Vox. That weird eye of his was spinning like a top and plasma dripped from his mouth. He seemed a little too happy about the carnage he just caused.

“Your drones are certainly… good… at their jobs…” she said meekly.

“Aren’t they?” he boasted. “And all this is just the beginning! I’ll have my R&D team working around the clock to make sure your hotel is outfitted with only the newest and most advanced VoxTek technology.”

“I still haven’t agreed to anything,” Charlie pointed out. “We still haven’t. If this partnership is going to happen, you and Alastor need to agree to work together. I won’t make any decisions about the hotel without him.”

“Of course,” Vox replied, his voice bristled with annoyance. “You name the time and place for a mediation, and I’ll be there. Alastor’s the one you need to convince. I’ve been trying to make peace with him for years!”

“Uh huh.” Charlie had a hard time believing that was true. “Anyways, I should probably head out. It’s getting pretty late.” She stood up and offered her hand for the television demon to shake.

“Leaving so soon? We’re having an afterparty upstairs in our VIP suite. You should stay a little longer!” Vox took her hand and gently guided her to sit back down.

“I really shouldn’t. Need to wake up bright and early to run my hotel, after all!” She swung her fist awkwardly to emphasis her point. “But thank you for inviting me to the overlord summit, Vox. It’ll be great for the hotel if we have some more powerful allies.”

“You’re a special gal, Charlie. Most of the fools down in that cave don’t appreciate that. Alastor certainly doesn’t.” She felt his fingers brush against her leg again. “I want you to know that even if you decide not to partner with VoxTek, I personally would still like to see more of you.” His full palm pressed against her thigh, fingertips breaching the fringe on the bottom of her dress.

Charlie gasped and slapped him hard across his screen, quite literally cracking his face in half. Vox’s head swiveled like a television on a wall mount, ripping itself from several of the wires attached to the chair.

“F-F-F-f-f-FUckK!” he cursed, voice glitching. He grabbed the corners of his television frame and pivoted his head back into place, then groped around the back and unplugged the last of the wires.

“I’m so sorry!” Charlie hopped off the armrest and reached out a hand uselessly to help. “I thought you were hitting on me!”

He started laughing as he rubbed a hand over the crack on his face, where the screen was now partially discolored. “I was. Fuck, that was hot! Wanna do that again?”

Charlie took a step back, her face burning with embarrassment. “Vox, I-I’m not… I’m not interested in you like that.” That shame suddenly flared into anger. “Wait, is that all this was? Just an attempt to get in my pants?! I thought you actually wanted to help my hotel!”

He laughed again. “Can’t it be both? I’m a guy who knows what he wants! Your hotel is the hot thing right now and I wanted in on that. I couldn’t help that you charmed me along the way. I mean, have you seen yourself in that dress? Even that old dickless deer couldn’t keep his eyes off of you tonight.”

Charlie clutched Alastor’s coat more closely around herself. “I didn’t mean to lead you on. I was just being nice.”

Vox’s grin darkened. “I bet you blue-balled the radio demon like this too. No wonder he’s been absolutely batshit the last few months.”

“N-No! I’d never… and he… he’s not…” She shook her head. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I’m just gonna go.” The princess hurried down the catwalk. She stopped, a sudden spike of rage fueling a surge of confidence. She turned back to face the television demon. “Actually, you know what? I’m not sorry! I should be able to be nice to someone without that being an invitation to get felt up!” She stomped towards the elevator, then turned back around again. “I am sorry for break your screen, though. Violence isn’t the answer.” She scowled at him. “But I’m not paying to get it fixed!”

She heard Vox chuckling as she stepped into the elevator. “My offer is still on the table!” he called after her. “Both of them, actually!”

The cavern had mostly cleared out and Alastor was nowhere in sight. As the princess rode the elevator up to the lobby, she suddenly hissed in pain. Looking down at her hand, she saw a piece of glass sticking out of it. With a wince, she pulled it out and rubbed away the stinging in her palm. The radio demon wasn’t in the lobby either, but she spotted Rosie heading out the door.

“Have you seen Alastor?” she asked.

“He was looking for you earlier, but must have left. This place cleared out pretty quickly once folks realized no one was getting ripped apart this year.” Rosie tilted her head and frowned. “Are you okay, honey? You look more shaken up than a pair of dice on a craps table.”

“I’m fine.” Charlie struggled to keep her voice from cracking. “I was just hoping he and I could head home together. To the hotel, I mean.”

“I’m sure he’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” Rosie nodded to the valet. “Do you want a lift in my old jalopy?”

“No, that’s okay. I could use the walk to clear my head.” Charlie hugged herself as she stepped out into the tepid night air of the Pride ring, not noticing the grinning shadow that had been watching her.

Drippy black tendrils crept under the door to Vox’s control room. From their depths materialized Alastor, ears twitching from the hum of technology that filled the room like a swarm of pesky flies. His boots echoed ominously as he slowly sauntered down the catwalk towards his destination.

“Here I am,” he said. “You’ve successfully gotten my attention.”

Vox swiveled around in his chair, fingers steepled against his screen. “If you’re looking for the princess, you just missed her.”

“You and I both know this isn’t about Charlie.”

“You sure about that?”

There was a jagged crack along Vox’s screen, causing one side of his face to flicker. The corner of Alastor’s smile twitched. Charlie seemed upset when she left V Tower and his inkling as to why appeared to be true. He felt a swell of pride knowing she knocked that highfalutin flat-faced fucker on his ass before leaving. Still, whatever Vox did to provoke the well-tempered princess left a simmering fury inside the radio demon.

“Whatever score you wish to settle with me, leave her out of it.” A thick static wavered in the air as Alastor spoke.

“Or… what? You’re gonna fight me? Well c’mon then! Fight me.”

Alastor tucked his hands behind his back. “No. For Charlie’s sake, I’m not going to fight you. I came here to warn you that whatever business venture you pursue with her, I’ll be watching your every move.”

Vox leaned back in his chair as he examined the radio demon with a knowing smile. “You really have it bad for her, don’t you? Careful, Alastor. You’ll burn your hand with that torch you’re carrying.”

Alastor stiffened. “You’ve known me long enough to know such trifles are far beneath me. I have a duty to the hotel. That includes keeping its hostess away from scumbags like you.”

“And what duty is that?”

“That’s not your business to know.”

The television demon rolled his eyes. “I gotta say, Alastor, this whole jealous, over-protective boyfriend act? You’re not very good at it. Though it was quite entertaining to see you make an absolute fool of yourself tonight.”

“I wasn’t about to let you rot her brain with all your gadgety flimflam like you’ve done to half this town already.”

“What, you think because you’re the first overlord to knock on her door that means you have dibs on the princess of hell? You just don’t want to admit that I have things to offer her that you don’t!”

“I know you’re only feigning interest in our hotel to goad me into another pointless spat with you.”

“Oh please. Not everything is about you, you self-centered fuckwad.” Vox put a hand to his chest. “I’m a business man! I’d be an idiot to pass up an opportunity to work with Lucifer’s daughter. And Charlie…” He whistled. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“She’s smart, kind, and just the right amount of gullible. Great qualities in a business partner. I can see why you want to keep her all to yourself.” Vox’s voice went low and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “She’s very pretty too, don’t you agree? Demon royalty. Hell’s only princess. Quite the notch to put in one’s bedpost.”

Feedback screeched through the room, causing the control console to go haywire before the power cut out completely. Alastor’s eyes shot wide into radio dials and tendrils erupted from his body, wrapping around Vox in a death grip. He dragged the television demon towards him, gripping his throat with his claws as soon as he was close enough.

“I dare you to say another word,” he threatened, his voice splitting between frequencies.

Vox let out a strained laugh. “T-There he is!” He grabbed Alastor’s arms, sending jolts of electricity through him. Alastor convulsed and dropped him. The television demon’s smile stretched wide as he opened his arms in an invitation. “Let’s go, you prick! I’ve been dreaming of this rematch for seven years!”

“I haven’t thought of you even once,” the radio demon shot back. He shook off the lingering muscle spasms and summoned a flurry of tentacles that attacked Vox.

Vox dove behind his chair to dodge them. “Yeah, because you’re too busy having wet dreams about the princess!”

An ear-splitting alarm began wailing. Red lights flashed in the room as the backup power kicked on. Alastor could hear the sound of grinding gears and he looked around as the wall panels opened up. A horde of drones poured into the room. He conjured a shadowy shield around himself just as they let loose a barrage of bullets.

Vox began cackling and he disappeared in a zap of electricity. A second later, his face appeared, stretched wide across every screen in the room as it loomed over Alastor like a behemoth.

“Hiding behind a shield? That’s not like you, Alastor!” The voice echoed all around the radio demon. “What, did losing to those angels turn you into a little wimpy bitch baby?”

Alastor gritted his teeth as he focused his power, pushing through the strain he felt in his chest. His shield exploded in a wave of magic that disabled the drones. They dropped out of the air and fell into the pit on either side of the catwalk.

“Stop hiding in your gadgets and face me like a man!” he challenged.

“Yeah, insult my masculinity all you want. I’m not the hundred-year-old cuck.”

Mechanical tentacles rose from the floor and wrapped around Alastor’s wrists. He clenched his fists, expecting his powers to cause them to malfunction. But they didn’t budge. Two more constricted his ankles. Confused, he looked up at Vox, whose giant face was grinning manically.

“Hydroelectricity!” he shouted gleefully. Flashing arrows appeared on the monitors and pointed to either side of the room, where Vox’s sharks were swimming in their tanks. “That’s sustainable energy! Look it up sometime.”

The tentacles coiled tightly up Alastor’s arms and legs, pulling in all directions until it felt like his limbs would rip off. His powers fizzled weakly in his palms, like a flintstone that refused to ignite a spark.

“I can’t wait to rip you into a million pieces and feed you to my sharks.” Vox gloated. “Then they’ll shit you out in the water, which will pass through the turbine that fuels the generator, which gives power to every glorious piece of technology in this room. How will that feel, Alastor? Knowing you’ll literally be powering the stuff you hate so much? And the couple of weeks it’ll take you to regenerate will be just enough time for Charlie and me to strike up a few business deals.”

Alastor thrashed against his constraints. “When I get out of this, I’m going to shove these wires so far up your- mmph!” Another tentacle curled up his neck and muzzled him.

“I wonder how our dear princess is doing now? Shall we check on her?” Vox’s face disappeared from the monitors, replaced by footage of the hotel. One screen showed the lobby, another the kitchen. There was a shot of the window outside Charlie’s bedroom. It zoomed closer and the interior became as clear as if you were standing inside the room.

“Ah, there she is!” Charlie was sitting outside on the edge of Dazzle’s statue with her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked pensive as she clutched to Alastor’s jacket, which was wrapped around her like a blanket.

Vox’s face appeared in one of the bottom screens. “Maybe I’ll stop by the hotel tonight after I take care of you. Charlie looks like she could use some company.” He sneered at Alastor. “Oh, and if I didn’t make it clear before, I’m going to fuck her.”

Alastor saw red. He threw his head back with a demonic howl, tendrils and black ichor pouring from his mouth. Ear-splitting static pierced the air, vibrating so violently he could feel every bone in his body shake as they splintered and elongated. A look of terror flashed across Vox’s face before all the monitors went black and their screens shattered. The thick glass of the shark tank began cracking, giving way after a moment when the water pressure became too great.

As the radio demon’s body stretched and contorted, he lunged for the control console, ripping free of the mechanical tentacles that imprisoned him. His claws were as long as sickles as he eviscerated the device into scrap metal. From one of the torn wires fizzled a spark of electricity. Vox appeared in a disheveled heap, and before he could scramble to his feet, Alastor impaled him to the floor.

“CHARLIE IS MINE!!”

He pummeled Vox with tendril after tendril, sending shards of broken glass flying everywhere.

“SHE WILL NEVER BE YOURS!!”

Alastor dropped to his knees and began punching Vox with his bare fists. Shattered glass and jagged metal sliced bloody ribbons into his hands, but he neither noticed nor cared.

“SHE WILL NEVER BELONG TO ANYONE BUT ME!!”

His vision suddenly flashed gold as a searing hot pain exploded in his chest. He looked down to see Vox had driven a piece of glass into his heart. The television demon let out a gurgled laugh before his hand slipped off the makeshift weapon and he slumped back against the floor.

Alastor stood up and ripped the bloodied shard from his chest. The room started to spin and gold specks danced in front of his eyes. He looked down at where Vox laid mangled and incapacitated, the wheezing from his chest like an old car engine that wouldn’t turn over.

“We’re done here,” he spat. He summoned his cane and pointed it threateningly at Vox’s throat. “If you so much as think about the princess again, I’ll rip you apart, piece by piece, wire by wire, and string you along all five points of Pentagram City, so all of hell can see what happens to anyone foolish enough to fuck with Charlotte Morningstar.”

Alastor leaned heavy on his cane as he made his way down the catwalk. He heard Vox stir behind him.

“D-D-D-do you r-r-reaLLy think that p-p-P-PRissy royal b-bitch will E-EVERR l-l-love yoU? You’RE-E-E-E a fuCKing m-m-M-MOnster!”

Without turning around, Alastor shot a single tentacle through Vox’s head. He fell to the ground with a dead thud.

The radio demon only made it a few more feet down the catwalk before the room was spinning so violently around him, he stumbled to his knees. He gripped tightly to his cane, trying to stay steady as he rose back to his feet on trembling legs. The pain in his chest was unbearable. He fingered the tear in his shirt, feeling the wetness of his blood that had soaked the fabric. He looked down, eyes widening in alarm at the golden glow emanating from his chest.

He hurried towards the elevator but staggered again, his vision so golden and hazy that he could barely see. Panic seized him as a familiar threat of oblivion began to corrode his consciousness.

He needed to get back to the hotel.

Charlie.

He needed Charlie.

Powers failing, his shadow clumsily dragged him outside of V Tower. On half-formed tentacles, he lurched down the streets. His uneven antlers weighed him down on one side and scraped along the asphalt.

“C-Charlie!” he cried out in vain, hoping she would somehow hear him. The hotel was a faint pink glow in the distance, growing dimmer as his eyesight blurred. “C-C-Charlie!” he gurgled again.

By the time he saw the lights of the marquee over the hill, Alastor was practically dragging himself along. With his last bit of magic, he summoned a few shadowy minions who yanked on his shirt in a futile attempt to keep him moving. As he crawled onto the hotel grounds, he gripped the iron rods of the gate and struggled to his feet.

“Charlie…” he mumbled once more before blacking out.

Chapter Text

The front doors to the hotel felt heavier than usual as Charlie pushed them open. The moment she stepped inside, she loosened the straps on her heels and kicked them off. A sigh of relief blew from her lips as her throbbing hooves touched the plush carpet. The lobby was pitch black, save for the dim glow of a few candles melting on top of the bar. They illuminated the faces of Husk and Angel Dust, who were both squinting at the playing cards in their hands.

The power was still out. The princess let out a disappointed hum, hoping that Alastor would have restored it upon returning to the hotel tonight. Well, at least she was back on good terms with the radio demon. Maybe she could talk to him about it tomorrow.

“What are you two still doing up?” she greeted.

“Waiting for you,” Angel replied. “Wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

She smiled appreciatively at them. “Aww, that’s sweet. You guys didn’t have to do that.”

“Eh, I know how the Vees can get. And Husk said that Smiley McChucklefuck was all too eager to crash the party, so I can only guess what a shitshow the night was.”

Husk took notice of whose coat she was still wearing. “Where is Alastor?”

Charlie frowned. “You mean he’s not back yet?”

The two men shook their heads.

Husk’s ears suddenly twitched. “Do you hear something?”

“No, but I feel something.” Angel pointed to his empty glass, which was scooting along the counter as it vibrated.

The princess felt it too. The air crackled with a tense energy. Static prickled her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt along her flesh. A cold dread, heavy like an anchor, dropped into her stomach. She couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that overcame her.

“Charlie!”

Was that…?

“CHARLIE!!”

The power flickered on for a second. Angel and Husk shared a concerned look.

“Uhh, I think someone’s at the door for you, toots.”

Charlie was already halfway out the front entrance. “Alastor?” she called out as she looked around frantically. The decrepit creaks of the iron gate caught her attention and she darted around Dazzle’s statue to see the radio demon slumped against its metal bars. His head turned in her direction, but his clouded eyes were looking right past her.

“Charlie…” he muttered weakly, the radio filter fizzling off his voice. His hands slipped from the gate and he tumbled over headfirst.

“Al!”

She sprinted forward and skidded to her knees, catching him in her arms before he hit the ground. His body was limp, but buzzed with the same frenetic energy that surrounded them. She turned him over and all the air was sucked out of her lungs where she saw the glowing wound in his chest, reopened and oozing blood.

“Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit!” Her hand swept frantically over his chest in a quick inspection of the injury. He’d been stabbed again. With an angelic weapon? No, it didn’t look like it. Her fingers brushed against something sharp embedded in his torn shirt. It was a shard of glass, identical to the one she'd extracted from her own palm earlier that night.

She wiped away the sickly sweat that was beaded on his forehead and ran her hand down his pallid face, cupping his cheek. “Alastor, wake up!” She gave him a few gentle slaps and his brow knitted. A ripple passed over his strained smile and he let out a pained gurgle.

Charlie hoisted him to feet and slung his arm over her shoulder. With some difficulty, she began dragging him back to the hotel. He was quite a bit taller than her and surprisingly heavy for someone so skinny. His spindly limbs swung around precariously like broken branches hanging off a tree. Up ahead, Angel Dust and Husk had appeared in the doorway.

“Help me!” she cried out.

“The hell happened to him?!” Angel rushed forward and supported the radio demon under his other arm. “I thought this guy could hold his booze better!”

“This has to be Vox’s doing,” the princess explained. “The two were at each other’s throats all night.”

Husk let out a begrudging sigh and spread his wings. “Put him here,” he said, pointing to his back.

Charlie and Angel flopped Alastor over Husk’s shoulders. The bartender grunted as he lifted himself off the ground and the trio hurried back inside the hotel. Husk flew up the staircase with Angel behind him, holding the radio demon’s legs like the handles to a wheelbarrow so they wouldn’t drag on the ground. The princess didn’t know what else to do, so she took his lifeless hand.

“Hang on, Alastor.”

Alastor slipped in and out of consciousness as the hotel hallways whizzed past him. He was laying on something fuzzy and was… flying? Was he on a magic carpet? Why did it smell like cheap booze? The apples on the wallpaper danced mockingly around his head before blurring into nothingness.

He lurched awake again when he felt himself being unceremoniously flipped over, knocking the wind out of him as he landed on his back. In his nearly fugue state, he vaguely recognized the soft mattress underneath him and the embroidered canopies that hung overhead. This was Charlie’s bedroom.

“Thank you both. I can handle things from here.”

That was the princess’s voice. Alastor propped himself up on one elbow and squinted at the door. Through his hazy, speckled vision, he could make out three figures. His arm slipped and he collapsed down on the bed. The last thing he saw before falling unconscious again was one of the figures rushing towards him.

Cold fingers against his bare chest woke him up for a third time. He could feel a hand under the tear in his shirt, palm pressed flat against the unbearable pain that was twisting in his chest like a dagger.

“Please, Al.” The princess’s voice broke with emotion. “Don’t do this to me again.”

Oh, sweet Charlie. Would she miss him when he was gone? Part of him hoped so. Part of him hoped she would mourn him, cry for him, built him an effigy like she did for her other fallen friends at the hotel. Part of him wanted to be a black scar on the princess’s heart, for the last shred of his existence to be carried with her always.

But part of him hoped she wouldn’t. Part of him couldn’t stand the thought of being the source of Charlie’s misery.

A searing agony erupted in his chest. It felt like the dagger was being wrenched free, its release just as brutal as its initial plunge. He thrashed on the bed, claws ripping into the blanket underneath him. Feedback shrieked from his core, rattling his clenched teeth until he thought they might shatter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Charlie’s apologies were lost to the harsh static that swelled in his ears before darkness welcomed him once more.

When Alastor awoke for the final time, he panicked for a moment that someone had sewn his eyes shut. Exhaustion weighed heavy on his eyelids and he struggled to open them. The golden threat of oblivion was no longer blurring his vision and the blazing pain in his chest had dampened into a dull burn. He could sense a presence beside him and glanced over to see Charlie sitting next to him. She was reading some kind of grimoire, her finger speeding across the pages as she mumbled incoherently to herself. With a labored groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Al!”

The princess flung her book aside and threw herself at him, arms locking around his neck in a fierce embrace. The unexpected force sent him crashing back against the headboard, a surprised “oof!” escaping his lips. Pain flared briefly in his chest. Instinctively, he froze, but then as quickly as it came, the tension melted away. His own arms, hesitant at first, rose to return the gesture, pulling her close.

“I-I was so worried that you… that you…” She clung even more tightly to him, face buried against his shoulder. “Oh gosh, I’ve been so mad at you… I’d never forgive myself if…” She pulled away, discreetly wiping the wetness on her cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Tenderness softened the corners of his smile. It was a strange feeling, this unexpected affection. Truth be told, Charlie cared for most people, but this felt different. There was a preciousness to it. Some kind of fragile thing they’ve built together, that despite the cracks and chips it’s endured, remained unbroken. Perhaps he was a fool to believe himself special, but in this small moment, her concern for him made him feel exactly that.

“Oh, I’m just swell, my dear,” he replied, voice strained but flared with his signature aloofness. “Had quite the eventful evening.”

“I can see that. What the hell happened?”

“Vox and I had a little chat.”

“I figured as much.” She sighed. “I take it he’s in much worse shape than you are?”

His grin widened mischievously. “Let’s just say it’ll take him a few weeks to put his boots back on.”

Charlie cocked an eyebrow. “Err, what?”

“You know. That thing computers need to do.”

“You mean reboot?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

The princess scrunched her nose at him. Alastor felt a prickle crawl up his neck as her thumbs brushed lightly against it. Suddenly, the closeness of their embrace hit him. They were still clinging to each other. She seemed to notice at that exact moment as well and they both pulled away.

“Alastor,” she began.

“I’m not going to apologize for what I did to Vox,” he interrupted, crossing his arms defiantly. “The bastard had it coming.”

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Her tone was quiet and remorseful. “None of this would have happen if I had just been honest with you from the start about meeting with him.” She placed her hand on his chest, rubbing the torn fabric of his shirt with two fingers. “And now you’ve gotten hurt because of me.”

Alastor from a year ago would have leveraged this into a deal, or goaded her with it for months to come, or at the very least performed a gleeful I told you so song and dance number. But right now, all he wanted was to absolve her of her guilt.

“Charlie, no,” he replied softly. “Vox did this, not you. He’s been itching for a rematch for seven years. We were bound to get into a spat sooner or later, regardless if you were tangled in the middle of it. And I suppose I could have been a bit more straightforward with you about my concerns. It’s just I… I really…” It was so uncharacteristic of him to stumble over his words and he was frustrated that he couldn’t articulate what he really wanted to say. “I didn’t want him to ruin all the hard work you’ve done here.” He gave her a sly wink and booped her nose. “The only person who’ll have that honor is yours truly.”

She rolled her eyes playfully at him. “You’re so difficult sometimes, you know that?”

His grin widened. “Pot calling the kettle black, darling.” After studying her for a moment, he noticed that she was rubbing a mark on her hand. Gently taking it in his own, he brushed his thumb against the dried blood smeared on her palm. “Did he hurt you?”

Charlie looked up at him, her scarlet eyes shining intensely. “No, I’m fine. Just wounded my pride a bit.” She cracked a coy smile. “Gave him a good smack, though.”

Alastor chuckled. “I noticed.” After a beat, he spoke again. “Charlie, my dear. I know I’m not the most knowledgeable when it comes to all those technical gizmos and gadgets. And I must admit that Vox is the expert down here on such things. So if you truly think pursing a partnership with him would be worthwhile for the hotel, then I’ll support you.” He narrowed his eyes. “With reservations, of course.”

She shook her head. “I’m not gonna take Vox up on his offer. I never was.”

“Really?” He was taken aback. “Then why go through all this?”

“I wanted to give him a chance to change my mind. But he’s an arrogant, self-absorbed, sociopathic mega-creep!” She ran her fingers through the radio demon’s mussed bangs, her smile tender and affectionate. “And I only have room for ones of those in my life.”

Heat radiated beneath Alastor’s skin, audibly buzzing as it rose from his chest to flush his cheeks. His gaze drifted down, unable to meet the princess’s any longer. The air hung heavy around them, thick with unspoken emotions that he wasn’t quite sure were entirely all his. He was about to excuse himself and disappear back to his radio tower when Charlie spoke again.

“So umm… I gave you a dose of magic to get you stable, but I should really take a closer look at your injury. I’m been going through my dad’s old grimoires to see if there is some kind of spell to seal off that angelic wound permanently.” She picked up the book she had tossed aside earlier. “There’s something I’d like to try, if you’re willing?”

A voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to leave, but he ignored it. “I don’t see why not,” he replied.

Charlie reached out hesitantly and thumbed his bowtie. “Can I?” she asked softly.

Alastor could hear his heart thump loudly in his chest. “Do what you must.” His injury wasn’t so severe that he was incapable of undressing himself. He probably should do it himself. But all he wanted right now was for Charlie to keep touching him.

He really liked when Charlie touched him.

She undid his bowtie with delicate fingers and slung it off his neck. Next, she loosened his suspenders. Her hands ran softly over his shoulders as she helped him work his arms through them. He could feel the threat of a shiver at the base of his spine and tensed, not allowing it to manifest.

Charlie was still wearing his jacket and underneath that was the dress Vox had crafted for her. Damn that flat-headed bastard and his fashion floozy for designing one that made her look positively stunning. The radio demon’s eyes wandered from her neck down her line of cleavage. Her breasts were pushed up very generously by the built-in support, practically spilling over the top. They really were such a lovely feminine feature of hers. So much soft, pillowy skin. There was a faint pink flush to them, and he wondered if he pressed his thumb into that flesh, if he could get that blush to bloom. His palms itched at the thought and he rubbed them against the mattress.

The fringe on her dress had ridden up and exposed her entire leg. Endless curves of porcelain white leading to her dainty little hooves. She must had lost her heels at some point carrying him up to her room. He felt a bizarre hunger gnawing in his stomach as his eyes settled on the lean meatiness of her thigh. He was so used to see her in loose-fitted slacks or a skirt, he’s never actually seen the shape of her legs before. There was a hint of pink peeking under the velvety blue fabric, and his smile twitched when he realized those were her undergarments. His eyes fixated on the crease of skin at her pelvis that disappeared under what little modesty the dress offered. At its apex was the most intimate part of her. Another feature of a woman that he’s never really thought about before. But now, he found himself blushing with curiosity.

Alastor looked away, scolding himself for such lewd thoughts. Maybe Vox knocked him a little too hard in the head. He shifted his weight on the bed, suddenly feeling restless.

Charlie began working on his shirt buttons. Were her fingers trembling? They were slow and meticulous as they curled around each button and released it from its hole. His pulse spiked every time her fingertips brushed against his bare skin. He wriggled again, feeling a familiar ache building in his groin.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Was this arousing him?

He spared a downward glance and was horrified to see a very obvious bulge straining against his trousers. The radio demon crossed his legs, but that only made the situation more noticeable. The fly of his pants stuck up like a lewd circus tent.

Well, this was just dandy. He was more turned on than a store selling Tiffany lamps and Charlie’s fingers were slowly working their way down to the source of his embarrassment.

He felt her gently tug on his shirt to untuck it from his trousers and his hands shot up to grip her wrists. “I’ll take it from here,” he said, voice thick with static.

“Oh.” Charlie pulled back, looking flustered. “Sorry. Of course.”

Alastor finished unbuttoning his shirt and shucked it off, feeling incredibly exposed now that he was topless in front of the princess. Distantly, he remembered that she’s seen him like this before, thought that didn’t make the situation any better.

Charlie’s eyes flitted up and down his bare chest and she turned away, putting a hand to her cheek. Was she blushing? He’s never given much thought to what his body looked like under his clothes. He suddenly found himself feeling self-conscious about the mess of fur and scars, the lifeless gray hue of his skin, the ribs that showed through that skin no matter how much he gorged himself during meals.

“I should probably clean the wound first,” she said. With a wave of her hand, a wash basin and rag appeared next to them. She dipped the rag in the water and began wiping at the dried blood. It was a confusing sensation, the sting of his freshly bleeding gash coupled with the gentle caress of Charlie’s fingers. But his body was reacting strongly to it, aching with a desperate and unfamiliar need. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, willing the throbbing between his legs to stop.

Alastor tried to focus on something, anything, besides Charlie, but she overwhelmed his senses. Her fingers on his chest were like raindrops on a pond, rippling through him with each touch. She was humming sweetly to herself as she worked and his ears twitched along to her lovely voice. That ridiculous dress she was wearing was too low cut and clung too perfectly to her shapely figure, and he felt like the only way he could stop staring at her was if he gouged out his own eyeballs. And even if he closed his eyes and tried to tune out everything around him, he could still smell her. Her scent was sweet and lovely, much like the princess herself, but with a tinge of something demonic and otherworldly. Like clean laundry that had been left to dry above a burning campfire. It was peculiar and intoxicating.

As the princess continued working, the dress coat she was wearing - his coat - had slipped down one of her shoulders. His fingers twitched with the urge to fix it. Or perhaps yank it off her completely and reveal even more of her deliciously soft skin. He’d like to rip that wretched dress off her too. Stupid Vox and his exceptional taste in women’s fashion.

That train of thought made his face feel exceptionally hot. A noise bubbled in the radio demon’s throat and came out like a wheezy squeak. His erection was relentless, so hard that it throbbed all the way into his skull like a migraine. He clasped his hands over his lap in an attempt to conceal his shame. In doing so, he pushed against it, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through him.

“Hnngh,” Alastor groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

Charlie pulled away. “Shit, sorry! Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t open his mouth to respond, for fear of what other vulgar noises would escape him. Instead, he gave a curt shake of his head “no”.

She whisked away the wash basin and plopped the grimoire onto her lap. While she was busy scanning the spells, Alastor took the opportunity to swipe one of her throw pillows and position it over his crotch. He sunk back stiffly into the bed, shoulders risen to his ears, trying to look as innocuous as possible. The princess reached into the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a sewing kit. He watched as she threaded the needle and began chanting under her breath from the spell book. Blood red flames engulfed the tiny instrument, traveling down the thread and imbuing it with her magic.

“This might sting a bit,” she warned as she brought the needle to his skin.

He’s experienced far worse, but his eye still twitched from the pain as the princess began sewing him up. At least the situation between his legs had begun to calm down. He picked at the frilly bits of the pillow on his lap as a distraction.

“Has anyone else in the hotel seen me like this?” he asked.

“Husk and Angel helped me bring you up here. I asked them not to tell anyone what happened.”

“I appreciate that, my dear.”

She chuckled lightly to herself. “Feels like déjà vu, doesn’t it? You in my bed, me patching you up.”

The radio demon hummed in agreement. “Yes, perhaps I should just take up permanent residency here.”

Charlie’s hand froze on his chest, and he realized just what he had insinuated. She didn’t meet his eyes. “I-I don’t think my dad would like that very much.”

“No,” he muttered in reply. “I suppose not.”

The princess weaved one last stitch into Alastor’s chest and snipped off the thread. She took pause. Her fingers ghosted over his heart, lining up perfectly with the discolored marks that encircled his angelic wound. Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t say anything. He felt her fingertips press every so lightly into the divots before she pulled her hand back and sealed the stitches with a spark of magic.

“There,” she said. “Unless you get shanked with another angelic weapon, that should keep the wound from opening back up again. How do you feel?”

Alastor sat up and rubbed a hand along his chest, feeling how the stitches had already magically sealed his wound. “Certainly better than I did a few hours ago. Thank you, my dear. Your abilities have proven yet again to go far beyond my expectations.”

She smiled shyly and busied herself with putting away her supplies. “You’ve been a good teacher,” she murmured.

He scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up. Rolling back and forth on his hooves, he stretched out his unused muscles. “I should probably retire to my own room now.”

“You should stay here!” Charlie blurted out quickly. “Err, I-I mean, if you want to. It’s such a long walk up to your radio tower and you still don’t have a bed, last time I checked. And I should really keep an eye on you. Just for tonight at least.”

The voice in his head was once again screaming at him to leave. “Yes, I’d be much obliged.”

“You can have the bed, of course. I’ll make a nest for myself in the tub again.” She reached for one of the pillows propped against the headboard.

“Charlie.” Alastor gently grabbed her hand.

She turned towards him, eyes questioning and lips parted in confusion. Her hand remained nestled in his grasp. “Alastor?”

His mind went completely blank. There were countless things he wanted to say to her, but they all refused to manifest into words. “You don’t have to sleep in your bath tub,” he finally managed. “It’s such a silly thing to do.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the bed, then back at him. “I guess you’re right.”

The princess gathered up her nighttime items and headed into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in her pajamas. She carefully draped his dress coat over her desk chair and then sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you need anything?” she asked. “Some pjs? A toothbrush?”

He politely declined. As she slipped under the covers, she mumbled a “goodnight”, then turned on her side away from him.

Alastor laid there on his back, trying not to think about Charlie lying next to him, barely an arm’s length away. He closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep, but each minutely tick of the clock tower outside felt like an eternity that he was still awake. The blankets rustled and he glanced over to see the princess had turned towards him. He twisted his neck to look at her properly.

“Promise me you’ll be more careful, Alastor.” She placed a hand on his chest. “That angelic wound is your weak spot now.”

“Perhaps.” His hand found hers, gently covering it where it rested on his chest. His fingers, slow and deliberate, intertwined with hers, spreading them ever so slightly so they slotted into the imprints she had left around his heart. “Or perhaps it’s something else.”

The energy in the room was calm and subdued, but something had shifted as the pair laid silently in bed together. The faint light filtering through the window caught on Charlie’s eyes, glistening with some kind of vulnerability he’s never seen in them before. She closed them and rested her head against the radio demon’s shoulder. He stared up at the apple-clad canopies, feeling a legion of emotions battling for dominance inside of him.

He almost died tonight for Charlie.

This wasn’t like last time with Adam. He wasn’t trying to curry favor with her to advance his own schemes. It had just been for her.

This woman was powerful enough to destroy him. She could carve him to pieces with one word, one glance. But she didn’t need to, he was going to be his own demise. He’d happily walk onto any blade for her, his only concern that his fall wouldn’t splatter crimson on her path.

This had to end.

He’d allow himself one more night of feeling this way. One last indulgence in the sweet poison that was his affection for the princess, rotting him from the inside out. Then he was going to get a grip, finish what he was actually at the hotel to do, and get as far away from this wretched place as possible.

Alastor awoke the next morning, and for the briefest moment, forgot he was in hell.

Charlie was snuggled against him. Her head was nuzzled in the crook of his neck, the warm steady puffs from her nose tingling against his skin. She had an arm slung over his chest and her legs were tangled with his under the blanket. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn’t, as she had rolled onto his arm and trapped him there.

Good thing he was perfectly content where he was.

Alastor shifted towards the princess. Carefully, he draped his arm over her waist, letting his hand rest against the small of her back, and pulled her closer. She let out a melodic sigh that plucked his heartstrings like a double bass. As he watched her sleep, the dust particles in the morning sunbeams danced around her like sparkles. She looked almost angelic, and he reminded himself that technically she was. He wondered if that divinity is what kept her so hopeful and pure of heart despite an existence marred by death and damnation. It was imprudent and out-of-place, yet what he found most endearing about her.

He spotted his shadow tucked into a dark corner of the room and wondered how long it had been there watching them. He glared threateningly at it and it sneered in response before dissolving into the wall. The ultimatum he gave himself the night prior crept back into his mind. He banished the thought permanently and rested his chin on top of Charlie’s head.

“Five more minutes,” he muttered to himself.

Chapter Text

“Strike two…”

Alastor bolted awake, harsh static rising from his chest to make all the hair on his body stand on end. He had only just closed his eyes for a second. But in that moment, the bed, Charlie’s room, the entire hotel had vanished, and he was being swallowed up by a black void of nothingness, like a decayed tree sinking into a bog. The voice in his head had been so clear, he could feel the percussive strike of tongue against teeth next to his ear.

His outburst roused Charlie, who he had accidentally knocked off of him in his panic. She looked confused and blinked blearily at him. “Morning,” she mumbled. “You okay?”

“Just dandy,” he replied, shaking off the remnants of his not-quite-a-dream.

With a yawn, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her gaze fell to the blanket they were sharing, underneath which she was still half on top of him. The princess squeaked and he felt her legs slide off of his. Untangling herself from him, she scooted back over to her side of the bed.

“S-Sorry!” A blush rose to her cheeks. She combed her fingers through her messy hair. “Must have rolled over in my sleep. It’s… uhh… been a while since I shared a bed with someone.”

Alastor couldn’t help the jealous grumble that buzzed in his throat. He didn’t like thinking about whoever else Charlie had shared a bed with.

“I-I don’t mean like that!” she quickly backtracked. “I guess I’m a bit of a cuddler. With my parents, at sleepovers. Just ask Angel the number of times I’ve conked out on his chest fluff.”

The radio demon made another disgruntled noise. He somehow liked that even less, knowing the princess’s physical affection towards him was just a force of habit for her.

“It’s quite alright,” he replied. “I hardly noticed, aside from you snoring like a congested mountain goat.”

She laughed. “Yeah well, you talk almost as much in your sleep as you do when you’re awake.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Do I?”

“I guess it was more like one of your broadcasts. Only it made way less sense. I honestly didn’t mind it! It helped me fall asleep.”

“How embarrassing. I hope I didn’t reveal anything too personal.”

She shook her head. “You talked about the weather a lot. Then you starting croaking like a bullfrog. Sounded like you were in a swamp. No one’s ever told you this before?”

“Well, I’ve never-” He stopped, realizing he was about to confess to her that he’s never actually shared a bed with anyone. Not since he was human. And even then, it had been as a boy with his mother or out of necessity during a few penny-pinching stints in a boarding house. Never as intimately as this. “Nope,” he said bluntly.

Alastor hopped up from the bed and strode over to Charlie’s bedside table to retrieve the rest of his clothes. After slipping his arms into his shirt sleeves, he realized it was so mangled that he couldn’t even button it. With a snap of his fingers, the shirt magically mended itself. He slung his suspenders back onto his shoulders and gave them a satisfying snap.

Charlie had been sitting on the bed with her legs curled under her, watching him with a keen interest. When he caught her staring, she leaned back and gave a tiny shake of her head, as if trying to clear the cobwebs from her mind. He grinned slyly at her. Had she been enjoying the show?

“You didn’t lose your powers this time!” she said with a bright smile. Ah, perhaps not. Just an innocent assessment of his well-being, as she so loved to do.

“It appears so. Though time will reveal if they’ve been stunted any more than they already have.” As green magic fizzled between his flexing fingers, his stomach let out a loud rumble. “But that’s a problem for after breakfast. Right now, my only concern is getting something to eat before I start gnawing on these bedposts.”

As Charlie pushed opened the doors to the kitchen, she caught a whiff of something sweet. She froze, baffled at the sight before her. Huddled around the counter, a horde of frosting-smudged faces looked up, mid-chew, like a field of deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck. In the center of them were the remains of a cake with crater-like chunks taken out of it. All that remained of the decorations was a single curly H.

Her father was with them, a forkful of cake mere inches from his mouth. It dropped to the counter with a clatter as he threw his hands animatedly in the air. “Happy anniversary, Char-Char!”

A disjointed chorus of confection-stuffed gobs echoed Lucifer’s sentiment, hands scrambling for the party blowers and noise makers scattered on the counter. A particularly enthusiastic blow from Ted the lizard pervert sent a wad of chewed cake flying towards Charlie, splattering on her shirt.

“Anniversary for what?” she asked as she wiped the goop from her chest.

“This hotel, of course!” her father replied. “It was exactly one year ago today that you called me up and said ‘Hey dad, do you remember that janky old hotel that you abandoned like so many of your other hopes and dreams? Mind if I take it off your hands?’”

“Err, I don’t remember saying it exactly like that…”

“And now look at this place!” Lucifer squished his hands against his cheeks, his eyes glistening with tears. “Oh, I’m just so proud!”

Charlie felt a pair of hands descend upon her shoulders. “Has it been a year already? My my, time certainly does fly when you’re busy saving souls.” She craned her neck to look at Alastor, whose permanent smile was settled somewhere between sinister and sincere as he stared down her father.

Lucifer scowled, his eyes darting between Alastor, Charlie, and the hands on her shoulders. “We’ve been waiting a while for you, kiddo. Did you sleep in?”

“Yeah, we had a late night.” She felt the radio demon’s fingers twitch. “I-I had a late night, I mean!”

“If I had known, I would have brought you some cake before this pack of ravenous hyenas devoured it.” He wiped discreetly at the frosting on his cheek.

“That’s okay. I appreciate the gesture.” She motioned around the room. “From all of you!”

“We do have the backup cake Niffty made,” Angel Dust mentioned.

“You mean the one she cooked over a toilet fire?” asked Husk.

Niffty looked like she was about to cry. “The oven still isn’t working! What else was I supposed to do?”

Angel leaned in close to Husk. “Remind me never to eat anything she makes unless I see her cook it,” he muttered.

Husk nodded firmly in agreement. “We wouldn’t have to eat food cooked in a toilet if the power was back on.” He shot a pointed look at Alastor, then suddenly all eyes in the room were glaring at him too. Charlie turned and gave him a sheepish shrug.

The radio demon put a hand to his face in mock embarrassment. “Whoopsie!” With a lazy snap of his fingers, the lights in the kitchen came back on, accompanied by the low hum of the electrical appliances as they whirred back to life. There was a collective groan of relief from the group and everyone began fumbling in their pockets for their cell phones. Alastor let out an incredulous huff and crossed his arms. “Your feeble minds needed a little detoxification. You’re all welcome for that.”

Charlie took a seat next to Angel Dust while her father salvaged a slice of cake for her from its mashed remains. She grabbed two forks and waved one enticingly at Alastor, who stuck his nose up at it.

“I much prefer dear Niffty’s toilet cake.” He conjured up a newspaper and mug of coffee, then tucked himself into his usual shadowy corner of the kitchen.

“I see smiley is back to his chipper old self,” Angel commented, keeping his voice low. “I really thought he was gonna kick the bucket last night.”

“We’d never be so lucky,” muttered Husk next to him.

“For a moment there, I did too.” Charlie felt something tighten in her chest. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes. “Thank you both for your help. I know Alastor will never say it, but I’m sure he’s grateful too.”

“I’m just glad things can finally get back to normal around here.” Angel was scrolling through his phone and made a face. “Oof. Val has not been happy that I’ve been offline the past few days.”

The princess couldn’t help the pang of guilt she felt. She had been so caught up in her feud with Alastor the last week, she didn’t realize how it had been affecting everyone else at the hotel. “Things have been so crazy lately, the hotel’s anniversary just flew right over my head. We should do something to celebrate!”

Angel perked up. “Like a party?”

From down the counter, Heather the cheerleader killer popped her head into view. “Did someone say party?”

“Can it be a lizard party?” Ted piped in, tongue darting around excitedly.

“The fuck’s a lizard party?” Husk asked.

“Like a regular party except everyone’s naked and we crank the lights up real bright.”

“Hmm. I’d be down for that,” Angel mused.

Charlie laughed nervously. “Ehh, I’d prefer a party where everyone keeps their clothes on.”

“A Tupperware party!” Niffty shouted.

“What’s that?”

“I dunno, but it sounds dangerous.” The little bug rubbed her hands together mischievously.

Charlie tapped her chin as she thought. “Dad, don’t you have a few trunks of costumes from that old circus act you and the sins use to do? What about a costume party?”

“Oo!” Lucifer clapped excitedly. He plopped down on the stool next to Charlie and leaned in close. “Count me in! What else do you need, sweetie? Decorations? Party games? A petting zoo? You name it, I can make it!”

Alastor, who had been hidden behind his newspaper, suddenly rolled it up and whacked it hard against his palm. “A costume party is a swell idea, my dear. You know, I’ve attended my fair share of fancy soirees. Planned quite a few myself.”

“Crashed even more of them,” Husk grumbled.

The radio demon put his boot on the bracket of Lucifer’s stool and pushed him out of the way, grinning as the king squawked expletives at him. Slinging an arm around the princess’s shoulder, he gave an imaginative flourish with his free hand. “A party for such a momentous occasion should be executed with style. Allow me to be the paint brush for your artistic vision.”

“What do you know about style?” Lucifer butted in. “You look like you cut your hair with a weedwhacker and you wear the same smelly, tattered suit every day.”

“And what do you know about parties?” Alastor shot back. “Haven’t you been shut away in your castle for the last few millennia?”

Her father slammed his hands on the counter and rose out of his seat. “Buddy, I’ve been throwing ragers since before your ancestors figured out how to knock rocks together!”

“O-Okay!” Charlie interjected. “Do you know what one of the first lessons I teach our new hotel guests is about?”

“Not putting your hand down your pants in public!” Ted declared confidently.

“No. Well yeah. That’s important too. I meant teamwork! I think this is a great opportunity for us to all work together. Tell you what. I’ll make a sign-up sheet, and that way everyone can contribute something to the party planning.”

Her father settled back down and smiled at her. “Whatever you think is best, Charlie!”

Alastor hummed in reluctant agreement. “I concur.”

It was later that evening when Charlie retrieved the sign-up sheet she had left out. The pen was missing and there was a Niffty-sized bite taken out of the clipboard, but it appeared that every slot had been filled. She hummed cheerily to herself as she reviewed the assignments on her way back to her bedroom.

Food – Alastor

Drinks – Alastor

She figured his cute little shadow helpers would be the waitstaff again. That works out great at the recruitment night a while back.

Music – Alastor

That one made sense too. He was quite literally a walking radio station.

Party Games – Lucifer Alastor

Had Alastor crossed out her father’s name? She supposed he had more experience with classier forms of entertainment.

Costume Contest – Lucifer Alastor

Okay, that one was deliberate. Charlie flipped through the sheets and saw that the radio demon had put himself down for every item, scribbling over anyone else’s name in that spot.

She let out an exasperated huff. So much for this being a group effort. Still, she couldn’t help the smile that crept on her lips. Even though she was alone, she brought the clipboard to her face to cover her expression.

No sooner had the princess sat down at her desk when a black haze billowed down from the ceiling and Alastor appeared in front of her, perched on the edge of the desk with his legs crossed.

“Evening, darling!” he greeted, leaning comfortably against one arm like he wasn’t sitting atop a mountain of paperwork and office supplies.

“Alastor!” she yelped, falling back in her chair. He pressed his foot down on one of the wheels to prevent her from tumbling over. “You need to stop scaring me like that!”

He chuckled. “Apologies, my dear. I can’t help myself. You are so very easy to startle.”

“Where have you been all day, anyways? I missed you after breakfast.”

He puffed his cheeks out at her. “You missed me?”

“I mean I couldn’t find you afterwards.”

“I was out making some arrangements for our little soiree. Cashed in a few favors, yanked a few chains, if you know what I mean.”

She looked down at his name repeated on her clipboard. “Yeah, your enthusiasm for party planning has been duly noted.”

He wiggled his shoulders and put a hand to his chest. “What can I say. I love a good fête. And after all the fluff and stuff of last night, I think you and I both deserve a fun night of revelry and relaxation. Now!” He leaned down so he was eye-level with her, resting his cheek in his hand. His upturned nose wrinkled at the bridge as his mouth curled upwards in a playful smile. “Would you like to hear what I have planned?”

The princess lost track of time as she and the radio demon planned out the hotel’s anniversary party. Yes to the live band. No to the knife jugglers. Yes to the photo booth, which he had begrudgingly agreed to let her father help with. No to the meat carving station. She didn’t care how nice Louie the butcher from Cannibal Town was.

Party planning turned into chit-chatting, which turned into gossiping. Now that Charlie was more familiar with Alastor’s fellow overlords, she was eager to learn more about them and he was surprisingly enthusiastic about indulging her. He’d never admit it, but she knew he loved to spill the tea like this.

“So that Zestial guy has been down here a while?” She was lying upside down on her bed, hooves propped up against the headboard.

“Longer than any overlord I know.” He was lounged on his side in the opposite direction.

“He and Carmilla seem close.”

“Yes, they’ve been allies for quite some time.”

“Are they…?”

He looked down at her. “Are they what?”

“You know.”

He raised an eyebrow, bemused.

She dropped her voice to a whisper, even though they were the only two occupants of her room. “Are they fucking?”

A loud screech of feedback pierced her ears. Alastor’s eyes shot wide into glowy orbs, causing his monocle to drop from his cheekbone. “Charlie!” he scolded, scrambling to pick up the lens and put it back into place. “Heavens to Betsy, I don’t know!”

She couldn’t help but grin, seeing how his cheeks flushed with color. “You mean you’ve never asked?”

“Why in all hell, heaven, and what’s in between would I ever ask something like that?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. If I was me, I’d be curious.”

Their chatter eventually simmered down, and for a while, Charlie just laid on her bed and scrolled through her phone while Alastor quietly observed her. She could feel her eyelids getting heavy and suppressed a large yawn just as the clock tower outside struck two in the morning.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t realize how late it was!” she exclaimed.

“Party planning is busy work.” The radio demon tidied up the loose papers that were strewn across the bed and placed them on the desk. “We’ve really been burning the midnight oil.”

Charlie watched as his hand ghosted over his dress coat that was laid on the chair. He didn’t pick it up, instead sauntering back to the bed and plopping down on his side.

His side.

She repeated the words to herself as butterflies assaulted her stomach. Alastor had a preferred side on her bed. He sunk back into the pillows and rested his hands on his chest.

“I should get to-” she began.

“Balloons!” The radio demon suddenly interjected. “We should do balloons! I know a balloon guy who’s a real artisan. Can make anything you ask for. A dog, a sword, a life-size replica of the USS Pennsylvania. We just might need to keep him muzzled because he does get a little bitey.”

“Oh, sure! Balloons sound fun!”

He winked at her. “I’ll give him a ring tomorrow morning.”

Charlie nodded, and when she opened her mouth to attempt another goodnight, Alastor began rambling again.

“You know back in my day, we used to fill balloons with combustible gas. There was a deli down the street from my first radio station owned by a fella named Fred. One year on Fred’s birthday, the balloons got a little too close to the cake, and BOOM!” He flicked out his fingers in a mock explosion. “No more Wednesday Reuben sandwich specials.”

She chuckled softly. It was a morbid story, sure, but she liked getting these little peeks into Alastor’s life when he was human. He so rarely talked about it. Though she was curious as to why he was sharing this information now. It was almost as if he was stalling so he didn’t have to leave her room.

Was he waiting for an invitation to stay here again tonight?

But why would he want to? His angelic wound was sealed up, his powers were working normally. He seemed totally fine. Then again, this was the radio demon she was dealing with. Understanding his feelings was like trying to decipher a broken tablet of ancient hieroglyphics while blindfolded. Maybe he was still rattled from his second brush with perma-death and didn’t want to be alone.

Or maybe he liked staying with her?

“Hey Al, you can sleep here again tonight if you want. If you’re not feeling a hundred percent yet.” She started nervously twirling one of the short strands of hair that framed her face. “I-I really don’t mind.”

He sat upright and blinked a few times at her. His grin seemed to snag on something unseen, sagging lopsided. A flicker of something unreadable flitted across his eyes before he settled back into his usual enigmatic smile.

“Where are my manners! Here I am prattling on and on and boring you straight to sleep. I do appreciate the offer, Charlie, but not to worry. I feel as chipper as a woodpecker in a dead forest.” He bounced off the bed and brandished his cane, spinning it between his fingers before giving her a tiny bow. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Until tomorrow, my dear!”

Before she could utter a farewell, he was gone in a puff of black smoke. Her posture wilted and a disappointed sigh escaped her lips. She felt ridiculous. Of course Alastor wouldn’t want to stay here if he didn’t have to. They were friends, good friends by all accounts, but even good friends didn’t snuggle up like she had done to him the previous night.

The radio demon suddenly reappeared in front of her and Charlie squeaked, her heart leaping into her throat.

He gave her a cheeky grin as he plucked his jacket off her desk chair. “Forgot my coat.”

She shook her head. “Goodnight, Al.”

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

As Charlie laid in bed that night, she stared at the vacant spot next to her, which never really felt vacant until now. That emptiness made her heart ache.

Things were so different a year ago. She was still with Vaggie, she was barely on speaking terms with her father, and she didn’t even know Alastor back then. When she first dreamed up the idea of a hotel to rehabilitate sinners, she could never have imagined things would play out the way they have. Fighting a war with heaven, nearly starting another one with the Vee’s, having so many people put their faith in her even though she still only had one redeemed soul to the hotel’s name.

Not to mention falling head over hooves for a man who was, by self-proclamation, the most irredeemable sinner in all of hell.

Was he some kind of ultimate challenge for her? If she could soften the radio demon’s heart, there wasn’t a soul in hell she couldn’t save, right? Or maybe there’s a part of her that wants to rebel against her own ideals? Preach to the unholy masses about kindness and altruism while secretly pining for one of the worst among them. Was she just a raging hypocrite?

She didn’t expected Alastor to change. He was stubborn and set in his ways, and made it very clear on multiple occasions how he thought this hotel was one big joke. And yet the genuine warmth he’s shown her, the quiet acts of kindness, the moments of fierce loyalty, they revealed a goodness that resided deep beneath his smiling exterior. A goodness she’d glimpsed and fallen hard for.

A hesitant hand reached out to rest on the opposite pillow, then pulled it closer. Charlie pressed her face into it. It was still slightly warm and Alastor’s scent had permeated the fabric. With a dreamy sigh, she nuzzled against it, wishing it was him instead.

Chapter Text

With his hands tucked behind his back, Alastor strolled through the lobby, humming in various tones of approval as he inspected his handiwork. The space was dressed to the nines for the hotel’s anniversary party. Red tapestries hung from the walls, each calligraphed with a giant gold number 1 that glittered under the moody lighting. The jazz combo he summoned was warming up near the bar. He watched as the fiddle player tightened the string that kept his severed head attached to his shoulders, then tightened another on his violin. Lucifer’s stupid photo booth had been shoved into a forgotten corner, but at least he procured one that used an actual camera and didn’t rely on all that fancy schmancy computer nonsense. Alastor’s shadowy minions were ready to perform their duty as the waitstaff, donned in white robes and fake halos. A cheeky choice of costume on his part, but it did get a laugh out of Charlie.

The princess herself was dumping the last bag of apples into the apple-bobbing barrel. As the clock on the wall struck the hour, she glanced up the lobby stairs to where their hotel guests would soon be descending. She smiled brightly as she joined him at the foot of the staircase. Linking her arm with his, she gave it a squeeze.

“You really outdid yourself, Alastor. Thank you for all this.”

Her compliment rose like a souffle baking in the heat inside his chest. “Never let it be said that I’m an inattentive business partner.”

She made a face at him. “When have I ever said that?”

“Precisely. Never let it be said.”

As the sinners began arriving, the princess broke away to welcome them. Heather was dressed as a cheerleader (how predictable) and had convinced one of Carmilla’s warehouse boys to accompany her as a football player. It was stiff competition against Laurel and Leonard for best couple’s costume, who had fashioned giant salt and pepper shakers out of cardboard. Ted and Peppy had both just thrown sheets over their heads, though the lizard demon forgot to cut eye holes in his. Husk looked almost exactly the same, save for a fake mustache that was stuck above his upper lip. He muttered something about being his own evil twin before stationing himself behind the bar.

“Angel!” Charlie greeted as he stepped out of the elevator. “That’s uhh… quite the costume.”

Alastor rolled his eyes at the spider demon’s questionable choice of attire. He was in a few frilly bits of lingerie, which wasn’t an uncommon display for him, but every spare inch of his fur was covered in stick-on googly eyes.

Angel Dust struck a pose and flicked up his hair. “I’m a biblically-accurate Verosika’s Secret angel.”

Charlie laughed. “You’re gonna need help getting all those eyeballs off later.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” As the pair walked down to the lobby together, Angel gave Alastor a judgmental onceover. “What the hell happen to your face?” he asked. “Did a bird take a shit on it?”

“It’s face paint,” Alastor said with a tight smile.

“Did you like… smear it on with your fingers or something? Oh wait, I get it! You’re supposed to be a sad clown whose face melted off!”

The radio demon let out a staticky grumble. He glanced over at Charlie, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind her hand.

“It does look pretty bad. C’mon.” She grabbed his arm and led him away from the burgeoning festivities. “If you wash it off, I’ll fix it for you.”

After scrubbing his face in the powder room, Alastor came back out to find Charlie waiting for him. She held up a sparkly pink makeup bag and motioned for him to sit on the bench against the wall. He obliged.

“So you were going for some kind of skull face, right?”

“I’m glad someone recognized my efforts,” he muttered irritably.

She took a pot of white foundation out of the bag. “What are you supposed to be, exactly? You look like a professor with that getup.” It wasn’t a far deviation from his usual attire. A worn fuzzy sweater over a white dress shirt. “And I hope you didn’t take those from the study.” She pointed to his prop – a stack of books he had secured with a belt and stabbed a knife through.

“They’re from my personal collection. I’m ‘death of the author’, personified.”

Charlie grinned as she began dapping the makeup on his face. “That’s very clever!”

“And you’re a pumpkin, I presume? Quite the traditional choice.”

“Yeah,” she replied sheepishly. “I just grabbed something from my dad’s costume trunk. I know it’s lame. I got so caught up in the planning that I sort of forgot to get a costume for myself.”

The orange dress hung loosely on her and had a crudely sewn jack-o’-lantern face on the front. Its bottom hem was a few inches short of modest, but she had paired it with some dark stockings. The ensemble was complete with a green collar and matching green beret. She looked positively adorable, though that was a thought best kept to himself.

Charlie began applying the white makeup above his brow. Threading her fingers through his bangs, she pushed them up so she could get his forehead. His ears gave an involuntary twitch. After fanning the area with her hand so it would dry, she let his bangs fall back down. Her fingers combed through them again, but instead of setting them against his forehead, she pushed them back towards his ears.

“You look nice with your hair slicked back,” she murmured, almost to herself. Something flashed across her eyes. “F-For your costume, I mean.”

“Noted,” he responded thickly. Curse his ears because they would not stop twitching.

After covering the lower half of his face, she gingerly tapped her index finger underneath his chin, signaling for him to lift it. He did and she began stroking the applicator up and down his neck. Her touch was gentle and it made his skin goosebump. She stepped closer, slotting his thigh between her legs. Alastor felt his pulse quicken. He invaded her personal space all the time but having the roles reversed like this? He was wholly unprepared for it. After finishing with the white foundation, she took out a container of black.

“Close your eyes,” she said, voice a little too low. That tone went straight to his gut and he suddenly wished he could shut his legs. He felt as she gently pressed the makeup brush against his eyelids.

His hands were fidgeted at his sides, itching to sink their claws into something. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed by Charlie touching him. And it wasn’t that he wanted her to stop. He wanted to be touching her. Unable to resist any longer, his hands slowly rose, then rested on the flare of her hips.

The princess made a small noise, barely a squeak. Stepping even closer, her leg pressed against his crotch. Alastor sucked in a harsh, staticky breath, hands bunching in the fabric of her dress. She glanced down for just a fraction of a second at where their bodies had connected, then met his eyes. His own stared back, not quite threatening, almost challenging, and a little pleading. She didn’t move, she didn’t say anything, and she continued blotting black makeup on his nose.

Unable to tear his eyes from her, he watched as she began drawing vertical lines over his lips for the teeth of his skeletal appearance. Her brow was knitted in concentration and the tip of her tongue stuck out of her mouth. She frowned slightly, then licked the pad of her thumb and pressed it to his lips. She dragged it down slowly, pulling down his bottom lip to separate it from the top.

It would be so easy to bite her finger off. Just one snap of his jagged teeth. But instead, he considered wrapping his tongue around the appendage and sucking it into his mouth. Watching the princess’s expression as he licked down her palm and pressed his lips to her wrist. Nibbling the skin there and feeling her pulse against his teeth.

Good golly, where did that train of thought come from? He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, banishing the vivid imagery from his mind.

“Sorry, this line wasn’t straight,” Charlie mumbled before reapplying it. “There! Finished.”

Alastor rose slowly, still clinging to her waist. He didn’t break eye contact with her, staring her down hungrily. Something deep, desperate, and wanting was gnawing in his stomach.

He wanted to keep holding her. He wanted to pull her closer. He wanted to tangle his claws in her long, soft hair. He wanted to press his thumbs into the circles on her cheeks and trace them over and over and over. He wanted to bury his nose in her neck and get lost in her scent.

And most of all, he very, very much wanted to kiss her.

He almost laughed out loud. What a peculiar thought that was! He’s never wanted to kiss anyone before. It had never been much of a pleasant experience for him, scrubbing off his aunties’ lipstick marks on his cheeks or rinsing out the taste of cigarettes and cheap booze at the end of a bad date. But Charlie? Oh, those plush black lips looked so very enjoyable. He imagined they’d be soft and sweet, just like her. How many people had she kissed before? No, that didn’t matter. He’d scrub any memory of them from her lips with his own.

“I-I don’t have a mirror,” she stammered, yanking the radio demon out of his fantasy. “Why don’t you check it out in the bathroom?”

He finally let her go. “Yes, of course.”

Once in the powder room, Alastor clutched the sides of the sink, his claws breaking off chunks of the marble. He needed to dunk his head in a basin of cold water. He couldn’t, considering he didn’t want to explain to Charlie why he immediately ruined the makeup she put on him. And there was no way he would subject himself to that torture again.

He stared at his ghastly reflection. Behind him, his shadow loomed on the wall, laughing silently at his misfortune. He looked down at the tent in his trousers.

“Get it together, Alastor,” he grumbled to his mirror self.

Is this what desire felt like? Just a few soft touches from the princess and he’s driven to the brink of utter insanity? Left burning worse than an eternity spent in the fieriest pit of hell? Did Charlie have any idea what she was doing to him?

There was a knock on the door. “Are you okay in there?” she called. “If there’s something you don’t like, I can fix it!”

Alastor gritted his teeth as he adjusted the situation below his belt. He took one last look in the mirror. The makeup did actually look swell, she was quite the beautician. His bangs were a mess, sticking up at odd angles. He licked his palm and ran it over his hair, slicking it back as she had so insisted. Slapping on his most innocuous smile, he strode out the door.

“It’s positively ghoulish, my dear. Thank you.” He offered Charlie his arm and they headed back out to the party.

They no sooner rejoined the festivities when Charlie was dragged off by Angel Dust to play some games. Alastor drifted towards the bar, content to sit for a while and people watch.

“I’m feeling fancy tonight, Husker. How about some red wine. The driest you have.” He let out a thoughtful hum as he watched the bartender pour his drink. “What a long, strange year it’s been, eh old chum?”

Husk slid the glass down the counter. “I’m surprised we’re even still here. You never stick around a place this long.”

“Yes well, I have my reasons for staying.”

Alastor swirled the ruby Cabernet in his glass as he watched Charlie across the room. She was leaning against the pool table and chalking up her pool stick. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment and she smiled at him. As he brought the drink to his lips, prismatic rainbows shimmered off the rim, encircling the princess in a kaleidoscope of colors.

He looked down the liquid, which was swirling with the same iridescence. Only a few sips in and his head was already spinning. “What’s in this wine?”

“Uhh, grapes? I dunno.”

He shrugged and gulped back the rest of it, ridding himself of the meddlesome colors. Glass landing on the counter, he tapped it a few times for a refill.

As Husk uncorked the bottle, he studied Alastor, a silent scrutiny that was common for the seasoned bartender. “It’s nice to lay down some roots,” he said, continuing their previous conversation. “Everyone needs a place to call home.”

Alastor hummed in agreement as he sipped his wine. “I suppose the deeper the roots, the harder the tree is to fell. There are certainly worse options than this hotel.”

“Can I be straight with you for a second, boss?”

Curiously, the radio demon turned to Husk and nodded at him to continue speaking.

“I know you don’t care, but I really like this place. Don’t fuck this up. There’s a lot more at stake here than whatever scheme you’ve got brewing.”

Alastor’s eyes once again found Charlie and a strange feeling overcame him. An ache in his chest, like someone had pulled too hard on a heartstring and now it hung limp and loose against its frets.

“Yes Husker, I know.”

They were interrupted when the king of hell noisily lumbered up to the bar. His outfit was covered in tiny cardboard boxes and pieces of cutlery. With some difficulty, he sat down on a stool.

“Your usual, sir?” Husk asked.

“Yes, please. The waitstaff here is so rude! I’ve been trying to chase them down for a drink but they all just spit and hiss at me. One of them started pelting me with mini quiches!”

Alastor chuckled silently behind his hand. “And what are you supposed to be?” he asked. “A pile of garbage?”

Lucifer glowered at him. “I’m a cereal killer.” He motioned up and down to his costume. Upon closer inspection, Alastor realized the adornments were miniature cereal boxes with butter knives stabbed into them. “Get it?”

The radio demon narrowed his eyes. “Is that some kind of slight at me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Lucifer opened up one of the boxes and began popping sugary balls of cereal into his mouth. “Guys like you are a dime a dozen down here.”

“Al!”

The radio demon’s ears perked. Charlie came bouncing over to the bar, waving wildly at him. The pinkish flush to her cheeks told him she must have had a few drinks already.

“AAAAL!” she called again. “Come be my partner for darts! Angel’s gloating that he beat me at pool and I need you to help me kick his butt at something else. Oh! Hi, dad!” She shot her father a pair of wiggly finger guns. “Nice costume!”

“Thanks, sweetie! Great party! Love the decorations. And the live band? Nice touch.”

“This was all Alastor!” she boasted, drumming her hands on the radio demon’s shoulders. He grinned smugly at her father.

Lucifer scowled. “Oh. In that case, it’s terrible and tacky and I hate it.” She rolled her eyes at that response.

Alastor hopped up from his stool. “I do fancy a game of darts. Come, my dear. Let’s show our hotel guests what a great team you and I are.”

He offered her his arm, and as he led her away from the bar, he glanced back at the diminutive monarch. Lucifer returned a deathly glare, not breaking eye contact as he ripped open another box of cereal and dumped it into his mouth.

“Oh wait!” Charlie suddenly stopped and yanked his arm. “Let’s do the photo booth first!” She dragged him off course to the dark corner of the lobby where he had dumped Lucifer’s contribution to the party.

“Charlie, I’m not keen on being photographed…”

“Aww, c’mon! We don’t have any pictures together, just the two of us. Actually, come to think of it, you’re not in any of our hotel photos.” She clasped her hands together and brought them up to her chin. “Pleaaaase?”

Those rosy cheeks and pouty lips were doing things to his insides. It felt like his organs were trying to rearrange themselves.

“Fine,” he buzzed. The words no sooner left his mouth before she shoved him inside the tiny box. He fell onto the bench with a grunt and she crammed herself in after him.

“Hmm, now how does this thing work?”

There was not a lot of space inside the photo booth, and as the princess bent over to read the instructions, Alastor got a clear view of her backside. He could see the welt of her stockings, where the opaque material darkened, right under the curve of her rear end. He quickly averted his eyes, tugging at his collar. It was very stuffy in here.

Charlie suddenly sat down on his lap and the radio demon instantly petrified to stone. She wriggled her hips as she got stable, her backside pressing dangerously against his crotch. He felt static rumbling in his chest and bit down hard on his tongue, refusing to let it broadcast. His claws dug deep grooves into the wooden bench underneath them. It was all he could do to stop himself from gripping the soft, warm flesh that was perched on top of him.

“Smile! Err, wait, you’re always doing that.”

The click of the shutter sounded like a starting pistol, jolting Alastor back to reality. “How many of these must we take?” he asked behind gritted teeth, smile cracked so unnaturally wide, his blackened gums showed.

“Just a few. Let’s do a funny one!” She made a pair of bunny ears with her fingers and placed them behind his antlers. He didn’t budge, still staring manically at the camera. This carried on for a few more photos as Charlie posed around him like he was some kind of deranged mannequin.

“Last one. Make it good!” The princess slung an arm around his neck. The three-beep countdown started, and as it reached one, Alastor felt something warm and wet against his cheek.

She had kissed him.

Her lips, soft and plush, pressed against the sharp curve of his cheekbone. His eyes shot wide, pupils constricting into radio dials as the camera flash went off. The incandescent bulbs that surrounded the photo booth exterior began flickering, and he wasn’t sure if that was his doing or a result of faulty wiring.

Before he could fully process what had happened, Charlie hopped off his lap. Disappointment and relief hit him with a double whammy, making the wine in his stomach lurch back up to his throat. He swallowed against it.

“Hey Charlie!” called a voice from outside. It was Angel Dust. “We playing darts or what?”

“Coming!” she hollered as she pulled back the photo booth curtain. “I’ll get the board ready. Can you grab the photos?”

Still in a daze, Alastor slumped back on the bench inside the photo booth. He pressed his fingertips to his cheek, still feeling the phantom touch of Charlie’s lips. A little jingle played, signaling that the pictures were printed. He took them out of the dispenser, smile going crooked as he looked down the column of images. His face was blurred and distorted - an eyeball here, an ear there, half a grin over yonder. In one of them, her bunny ears looked like fleshy tendrils sticking out of his head.

The last photo, however, was clear as crystal. Alastor’s lip snarled in disdain at the image, the surprise and utter delight in his doppelganger’s expression. The princess’s cheeks were rosy red. Her lips were curled in a smile where they were squished against his cheek.

He ripped off the photo and tucked it into his back pocket. Charlie was never seeing that.

As he stepped out of the photo booth, a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks. He had no clue what was even in them, but he grabbed two and knocked them both back. With a hiccup, he sauntered over to where Charlie and Angel Dust were practicing their dart throwing.

“Chaaarlie!”

The princess felt a tug on her dress. She looked down to see one of the waiters holding up its tray of drinks. It jiggled the tray at her, causing the glasses to clink together.

“No thanks,” she said with a polite wave of her hand. Alastor’s shadowy minions had been quite enthusiastic in their roles tonight. No sooner would she finish her drink that one of them would scurry up to her to offer another. She was feeling a little buzzed already, and as much as she wanted to relax tonight, she also felt obligated to set a good example for her hotel guests.

The waiter’s smile broke and the black pits where its eyes should be welled with tears.

“Oh! Don’t cry! Of course I’ll have another.” Charlie took a drink and gave the creature an affectionate head pat. It began hopping up and down, gurgling happily.

“Hey can I get- aaaand there it goes.” Angel Dust tried to get the waiter’s attention, but it had already scampered away.

The creature passed by Alastor, who in one swift motion, snatched two glasses, gulped them down, and returned them to the tray. He held the strip of photos between two fingers and presented it to Charlie.

“Your pictures, my dear. I think I look rather dapper in them.”

She clapped her hands excitedly and eagerly snatched them from him, then her face immediately fell. None of the pictures developed properly. She had an inkling it wasn’t the photo booth that malfunctioned. “Very funny, Al.”

His grin curled knowingly. “Faulty equipment. Another fantastic fumbling from your father.”

“Uh huh.” She shook her finger at him. “I will get a nice picture of you one of these days!”

“I wouldn’t count on that, princess. I did warn you I’m not very photogenic.”

“Well, I beg to differ. I think you’re quite nice to look at.”

The radio demon blinked twice, each one sounding like a microphone being tapped. “Heh. You… you what now?”

Angel very loudly cleared his throat. “Uhh, if you two are done, can we please play darts?”

Charlie and Alastor both turned to look at the spider demon, seemingly forgetting that he was even there.

“Now where the hell did Niffty get off to? She was gonna be my partner.”

“Here I am!” The little bug suddenly slid out from underneath the lounge loveseat, causing Angel to shriek and jump up on the cushions. She dove for the darts laid out on the coffee table, but Alastor scooped them up first and offered them to Charlie.

Taking the first dart between her thumb and index finger, the princess lined up her shot. The dart wiggled in the air towards it target, hitting the outer ring but not sticking.

“Geeze, and I thought you were bad at pool,” Angel teased. “Do you need glasses or something?”

She ignored him and readjusted for her next throw, but missed the dartboard entirely.

“Wow you really do suck at this,” Niffty added.

“Your technique is all wrong, my dear.” Alastor approached her and put a hand on her shoulder. “May I?”

Thinking he was going to demonstrate, she nodded and offered him the last dart. He didn’t take it, instead stepping behind her and sliding his hand down her arm to grasp her elbow. His other arm wrapped around her front, slim fingers positioning the dart in her hand and then gently grasping her wrist. She sucked in a sharp breath as his chest pressed against her back. Glancing down, she saw his feet shuffle on either side of hers.

“It’s all in the elbow.” The staticky timbre of his voice prickled against her ear and she felt goosebumps cascade from her neck down her body. Alastor lifted her elbow, holding it still as he moved her forearm forward and back. “Arm up, draw back, and flick. Now you try.” He released his hold of her, but didn’t step back. As she practiced the motion, she could feel his presence right behind her, his hands hovering at her hips.

“What the fuck is happening right now…” Distantly, Charlie heard Angel Dust’s comment.

“Go on then.” It was nearly a whisper, lost to the muddled vibrations in his radio filter, but it shot down her spine like lightning splitting a tree in half.

The princess exhaled slowly, flicked her wrist, and the dart flew, sticking close to the center of the board. She pumped her fist triumphantly and turned to see Alastor’s reaction.

He grinned down at her, eyes hooded with a glint of smug satisfaction. “Attagirl.”

His genuine praise made her heart flutter. She was still so close to him, she could see a flush of color to his usually ashen face. His breath had a sharp, discernably alcoholic smell to it, something both fruity and oaky that made her think he’d been mixing wine and hard liquor. Is that why he was being so… handsy?

Angel made the terrible decision of letting Niffty go next. She rubbed her grubby little hands together, bouncing up and down as he hesitantly handed her the darts.

“Now remember, Niff. We wanna hit the target.” He pointed to the dartboard. “The TARGET. Nothing else. Got it?”

“Yup.” She put out her hands. “Gimme, gimme gimme!”

The first dart missed the board by a longshot, whizzing towards the center of the room where the balloon artist was set up and popping the pink poodle in his hands. The second, surprisingly enough, hit a perfect bullseye. Niffty, bloodlust burning in her eyes, cackled manically and launched the third dart like a javelin.

Charlie felt herself being yanked forward. Alastor’s arm hook around her waist and she stumbled into his chest. Where her head had been a second prior, a tendril shot out and snatched the dart out of the air.

“Niffty dear, you must work on your aim,” he said coolly, tossing the deadly projectile to Angel. The princess stared up at him, hands clutching to his sweater. She was about to thank him, then he very abruptly released her, the flush on his face deepening. He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m parched! Who wanted a drink?” Without waiting for a response, he abandoned their game and made a beeline for the bar.

Angel Dust threw his hands up in defeat. “What the fuck, we didn’t even finish one round!”

As the night went on, Charlie threaded through the party’s delightful chaos. In one corner, Heather was bragging about her waterproof mascara as she prepared to dunk her head in the apple-bobbing barrel. Angel had already rescued a nearly-drowned Niffty from it, who somehow managed to impale three very large apples on her razor-sharp teeth. Meanwhile, the balloon artist was wrestling a particularly stubborn balloon. Giving up, he handed Peppy a vaguely humanoid tangle of knots, who drunkenly clutched it to his chest like it was his long-lost child.

Her eyes kept wandering to Alastor, who had been sitting at the bar pestering Husk. The band had kicked into a lively swing number and he was wiggling along to the music, foot bouncing to the offbeat and fingers clinking against an imaginary piano. She found herself wishing he would ask her to dance, and considered going over there to ask him herself, but decided against it. Not only were Laurel and Leonard hogging the dance floor, but Lucifer was there too, dancing by himself to a rhythm in his head that was out-of-sync with the music. And, well… she didn’t need to give her father anymore reason to despise the radio demon.

A group had gathered in the lounge area to play cards, everyone a bit too tipsy to even shuffle the deck, let alone decide on what game to play. Charlie herself was dangerously close to her giggly drunk stage, and it was taking all the power of her last sober braincell to stay composed. She just couldn’t say no to those big, soulless eye sockets of Alastor’s shadowy waitstaff every time they offered her a drink.

They were a few rounds into their card game when the princess felt someone slink up behind her. Alastor materialized from the shadows, or more like stumbled out of them, with a glass of dark liquid in his hand. His skull makeup was smudged, face burning red underneath it, and his bowtie hung loosely around his neck. There wasn’t anywhere to sit, so he perched on the armrest, right next to Charlie. As he leaned over to look at her cards, his arm stretched along the back of the loveseat.

“That’s a royal flush, my dear!” His boisterous tone crackled with feedback.

“We’re playing Go Fish,” she told him. “Or was it Crazy Eights? I can’t remember.”

“Well in that case, you’ve got quite a shit hand!” He hiccupped. “Your cards I mean. Your hands are rather lovely.” He took one of hers in his own and brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

“O-Oh…” she stammered. Her brain was too fuzzy to think of a response.

“Huskerrrrr!” the radio demon slurred as he polished off his drink. The empty glass disappeared in a puff of green smoke. “Deal me in, old pal!”

“I left the bar to get away from you,” Husk grumbled from behind his cards. “And I ain’t your pal. Deal yourself in.”

“Someone put too much bitters in your cocktail, you old sourpuss!” Alastor lurched forward, reaching for the scattered deck of cards. He lost his balance and tumbled off the armrest. Surprise flashed across his face, which quickly dissolved into a lopsided grin as he landed, not on the floor, but squarely in Charlie's lap.

“Al!” she yelped, her hands reaching out to catch him before he planted face-first into her crotch.

He chuckled, his own hand caressing clumsily over her thigh as he pushed himself up. “Now who moved that damn coffee table?”

He untangled his limbs from around her, then settled back comfortably into her lap with a content hum. Sprawling out like a spoiled housecat, he slung an arm around her shoulder and leisurely crossed his long legs over hers.

The room suddenly titled on its axis, dizzying Charlie. If not for the weight of Alastor on top of her, she would have fallen out of her seat. The nearness of him was more intoxicating than the alcohol in her system. Heat radiated from him and he smelled like a fancy gentlemen’s club, a thick musk of alcohol, smoke, and spiced meat. The scratchy texture of his sweater tickled the tip of her nose. Not knowing what to do with her hands and feeling a bit emboldened, she wrapped them around his waist. Gosh, it was so trim! How could someone with such broad shoulders have such a tiny waist?

The princess could sense everyone was staring at them and snapped back to her senses. She laughed nervously. “So, uhh… who’s turn is it?”

She caught Angel Dust’s eye, who looked utterly scandalized. He leaned in towards Husk. “I think I liked it better when they were fighting,” he muttered.

Husk grumbled something indecipherable in response. “I need a drink.”

“Get a round for the group, won’t you?” Alastor gestured broadly with the cards in his hand.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

Charlie could feel a low grumble vibrate within his chest. His body got slightly hotter as black haze began permeating from his form. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he spat back.

Husk rolled his eyes, unphased by the empty threat. “Fine.”

As he left, Heather came bouncing towards the group. “Hey Charlie! When are we doing the costume contest?”

“Oh!” The princess had completely forgotten about that. “I guess that’s up to Alastor? He’s running it.”

Everyone looked at the radio demon, who slowly blinked, one eye at a time, his smile completely vacant. His ears perked when he realized he was being addressed. “I suppose I did volunteer myself for that duty. Alrighty!” With a snap of his fingers, he summoned Charlie’s clipboard. "Shall we vote on it? No, democracy is overrated. I’ll just chose.” He squinted at the paper, pulling his monocle closer like it was a magnifying glass.

“First category is funniest costume.” Alastor looked around the room, then hummed in disapproval. “Humorless bunch, this lot. Moving on! Next up is most creative costume. That goes to yours truly, of course.” He conjured up a ribbon and proudly pinned it to his sweater.

“You can’t just pick yourself if you’re the one judging the contest!” Angel argued.

“Now, now, my good fellow, don’t be a sore loser.” He continued on. “Next we have cutest costume. I do think our charming hostess here is most deserving of that.”

Charlie blushed. “Aww, c’mon Al. We should really pick one of the hotel guests.”

“Nonsense, I insist!” Another ribbon appeared in his hand and he shifted in her lap so he could pin it to her dress. “Darling, you look as good as a slice of pumpkin pie and I would like to just cover you in cream and gobble you whole!”

Something popped inside her brain and her eyes shot wide. “Wh… whh-whaaat?!”

Husk had returned with a tray of drinks, and raised a furry eyebrow at the awkward silence that had fallen upon the group. “What did I miss?”

Angel jabbed a thumb at the princess and her lap companion. “Alastor here wants to cream on Charlie’s pie and eat her out.”

The bartender made a U-turn and headed in the opposite direction, the tray of drinks still in his hand. “Nope. I’m out.”

Completely clueless to the lewd nature of his comment, Alastor continued down his list of categories. “Lastly is best couple’s costume.” He did a quick survey of the room and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Ted and Peppy, I suppose.”

Heather stormed off in a huff. “This contest was rigged!”

After that, the group struggled through a few more rounds of Go Fish. Eventually everyone was either too drunk to play or nodding off with their cards in their hands. At some point Angel Dust vacated the spot next to Charlie to go check on Husk. Only then did the radio demon finally peel himself off her lap, seemingly sober enough to realize he had ended up there in the first place.

“This merry mess of miscreants tuckered themselves out rather quickly,” he said.

Charlie checked her phone. “It’s barely midnight. I thought the party would go on a little longer.”

He chuckled. “I do believe your redemption efforts have exorcized the party animals right out of these heathens.”

“I had this whole anniversary speech planned and everything.” She sighed. “Oh well. I guess I could give it tomorrow at breakfast.” Ted staggered by, tore the sheet off his head, and puked into a potted plant. “A late breakfast.”

“Who says the night has to end just yet?”

“I dunno, Alastor. If these guys party any harder, they might drop dead. I think some of the band already did.” She pointed to the drummer, who was sprawled in a heap on the floor while Laurel and Leonard nibbled on his fingers.

“Let these fools flop around in their drunken stupor. I’ve got better booze and tunes up in my radio tower.” He hopped up from his seat and offered her his hand. “What do you say, my dear? Care to join me for a post-celebratory tête-à-tête?”

His invitation sent her heart into a frantic tap dance against her ribs. She smiled and placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “I’d love to.”

Lucifer stepped over another sinner who had blacked out. The pool of drool they were sleeping in was definitely going to ruin the finish on these hardwood floors. Maybe if he just gave them a little zap of magic… nope, nope. Charlie had told him not to meddle in her hotel business and he was trying very hard to honor her wishes.

He was the king of hell. That position held gravitas, and its impact on his daughter’s life wasn’t always a positive one. He’d never let that affect the good she was trying to do here. He kept a healthy distance from the hotel guests and was slowly building rapport with them. He didn’t bat an eye at her attending that fancy dinner party with all those bloodthirsty overlords. He held his tongue when she told him that deranged, foul-breathed, rotten piece of roadkill that she called a business partner had insisted on planning tonight’s party.

After so many years of distance between them, he wanted nothing more than to smother her with all the affection and support that she deserved. But that’s not what Charlie wanted, so he settled for the small ways she’d allow him to help. At least he had his Sunday pancakes. And no, it definitely wasn’t the highlight of his week. His social life wasn’t that pathetic.

As the festivities winded down, he wanted to congratulate her one last time on the hotel’s anniversary before calling it a night. He spotted her across the lobby in the lounge area, and his stomach immediately plummeted to his feet.

She was with him.

Of course she was with him.

Lucifer watched as Alastor offered Charlie his hand and gently pulled her up from her seat. She was captivated by whatever nonsense he was spewing at her, a dreamy haze clouding her usually bright eyes. There was a rosy tinge to her cheeks, and whether that was from imbibing in too much alcohol or too much of the radio demon’s company, the king didn’t want to know. He had a feeling it was a dangerous combination of both.

He should just smite that smiley fucker where he stands. Turn him to a pile of ash, or a pillar of salt, or toss him into a boiling pot of oil until his bones melt and his eyeballs explode. It’s been a few millennia since he’s personally tortured sinners, but he could make an exception for this guy.

Laughter erupted from the pair and Charlie leaned in closer, her hand finding a resting place on Alastor’s chest. His gaze dropped to her touch, a spark of something feral igniting in his eyes. It was the smile of a predator who, after a long and cunning chase, had finally claimed his prize. Sharing a conspiratorial glance, they scurried up the staircase together and disappeared into the inky shadows of the hallway.

Lucifer’s fists clenched at his sides, his blackened knuckles turning white with barely contained fury. He lurched forward at a resolute pace towards the staircase, hand reaching out to grip the banister. Then he stopped.

Charlie wasn't a child anymore, running around the palace with a kitchen knife. He couldn't snatch the blade away, deliver a stern lecture, and expect her to magically understand the danger. This wasn't a threat he could shield her from, nor a choice he could make for her.

He knew all about temptation. Alastor wasn't just the serpent in the garden. He was the forbidden fruit itself, a tantalizing indulgence that could easily lead Charlie to ruin. He may not trust the radio demon, but he had to trust his daughter’s judgement.

Lucifer just hoped she had picked up a thing or two from all those bedtime bible stories.

Chapter Text

The wall lights pulsed one by one, illuminating a path for Charlie as she followed Alastor down the hallway to his radio tower. When they reached the door, he spun on his heels to face her and cleared his throat.

“Ah, allow me just a moment to tidy up!” he said hastily before dissolving into a drippy black haze and slinking under the door.

A moment later, she heard a loud crash. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened to what sounded like someone taking an axe to a piano. And was that a chicken squawking? The doorknob clicked and she quickly pulled away. Alastor stood in the open doorway, and with a charming smile, motioned for her to step inside.

Charlie would best describe the radio demon’s style of housekeeping as organized chaos, and it looked like he had attempted to sort his hordes of various trinkets, radio gadgets, and unsavory instruments into slightly less messy clutters. The books from his costume had been returned to his bookcase with the knife still driven through them. A blanket with some suspicious stains covered up something that she was better off leaving a mystery.

The loveseat was new, and didn’t match the ones in the common areas of the hotel, so he must have procured it himself. It sat in front of his perpetually unlit fireplace. In fact, she distinctly remembered a pair of chairs being there before.

His radio tower always felt like an eerie and uninviting place, but the atmosphere was different tonight. The stained glass lamps and half-melted candles bathed the room in a warm, cozy glow. The shadows they cast on the walls danced along to the jazz music, something mellow but upbeat that crackled from his antique phonograph. Alastor hummed along to the melody as he opened up the cabinet of his record console. He pulled out a glass bottle and inspected the worn label before breaking the seal.

“1929. A very good year!” He poured it into two glasses and offered her one. “I was saving this for a special occasion, but whiskey this good deserves to be shared.” He clinked his glass against hers. “To one year together, my dear business partner.”

“To one year. Together,” Charlie repeated with a smile. She took a sip of her drink and immediately sputtered into her glass as the liquid burned down her throat. Her eyes watered as she held in a fit of coughs.

He chuckled lightheartedly. “Not to your taste, eh?”

“I like it!” she lied. “It’s just a bit strong on its own.” She so wanted him to believe she had a more sophisticated taste that she actually had.

“I’d offer to make you a mint julep or some other cocktail, but unfortunately fresh garnishments are not something I’m able to keep on hand up here.”

“There’s a ton of mint in the hotel garden. We could go grab some! I’m sure the lobby’s cleared out by now if you want to head back downstairs.”

“Hmm.” Alastor peered out the large window of his radio tower, which loomed over the hotel grounds below. His grin curled as his eyes lit up with an idea. “There’s no need to trudge all the way down there when I know a shortcut.” He turned to her and extended his hand. “That is, if you trust me.”

Whether all the alcohol she had that night had lowered her inhibitions or it was just blatant poor judgement, she did, in fact, trust him. Without hesitation, she placed her hand in his. He gripped her waist, as if leading her in dance, and drew her closer.

“Don’t be scared now.”

“Scared of what?”

His smile widened as it was engulfed by black shadows, then the princess felt like she was dunked into icy cold water. All her senses went numb as she floated weightlessly through a void of nothingness. She could only feel the presence of Alastor’s fingers entwined with hers, on a hand that didn’t exist anymore. Then suddenly it was like she was dropped back into her body. An herbaceous aroma hit her nose and her heels sank into the loose dirt. They were standing in the middle of the hotel garden.

Charlie’s hand clutched Alastor’s in a death grip as her knees buckled underneath her. “Wha-?! We’re outside?”

He looked very pleased with himself as he helped her find her footing. “Yes indeedy! And you survived the trip with all four limbs intact and your eyeballs still inside your skull. I call that a success! For both of us, actually! I’ve never tried that before with another person. Wasn’t entirely sure if it would work.”

She blinked in disbelief at him. “You what now?”

“Never mind that!” He motioned to the green plants scattered around them. “Shall we?”

The hotel garden had flourished in the time since it was planted, and the mint in particular was especially unruly. As Charlie began snipping off stalks of the herb, she noticed Alastor was moseying around the flower beds but not actually helping her.

He clocked her judgmental stare. “I’m afraid I’ve got a bit of a black thumb.” Crouching down, he tapped his index finger on a mint leaf and the entire plant shriveled up.

“Oh.” The princess felt a twinge of guilt. She sometimes forgot that sinners were afflicted with detrimental quirks like that. With Alastor, it was especially easy to overlook, considering any aspect of his hellish form that was intended as punishment he had twisted into an advantage. He shrugged cheekily, though something in his eyes told her this particular trait bothered him.

“Did you garden much when you were alive?” she asked as she gathered up a few more handfuls of mint.

He laughed. “No, I wasn’t much better at it back then. In fact, my first murder victim was the poor, unassuming snake plant my mother gave me.”

That charmed her, the image in her head of the radio demon leaving behind a trail of dead plants rather than dead bodies. “Did your mom like gardening?”

The smile immediately fell from his eyes and she realized she had pried too far. He swiftly hopped out of the garden, as if trying to escape the reminiscent thoughts before they could root too deeply.

“I think that’s plenty, my dear,” he said as he offered his hand again.

Back up in his radio tower, Alastor had mixed their cocktails while Charlie added the finishing touches, plucking off a few mint leaves to drop into each drink. As she slurped hers down, she wandered to his bookcase, fingers grazing along the novels’ worn spines as she inspected their titles. She recognized a good portion of them. Mostly American authors. Lots of murder mysteries, a few poetry books, some encyclopedias on various niche topics. She spied that radiator manual again, sticking out like a snaggletooth among the row of books. Discreetly, she pushed it back into its hiding place with her finger.

“You’re welcome to borrow one if you’re looking for something a little more thought-provoking than those silly self-help books of yours.” Alastor had been leaning against his radio console as he watched her. “I’ve built quite the collections over the years. Many first editions too, signed by the authors themselves. Funny how many famous novelists ended up in hell.”

“Maybe you could start a hotel book club!”

He scoffed. “And let you rope me into even more frivolous nonsense around here? Not a chance, princess.”

There was no bite to his retort and she playfully rolled her eyes at him. The harder he tried to be nonchalant about his involvement here, the more it endeared him to her. She was fully aware that he volunteered himself for half the frivolous nonsense he partook in. However misguided and self-serving his reasons could be, she knew he enjoyed helping out.

Charlie flopped down on the loveseat. Before her butt hit the cushion, Alastor had already slinked over and taken the spot next to her. He snapped his fingers and a fire ignited inside the fireplace.

“I can see why you spend so much time up here. It’s pretty cozy. But I have to ask. Where the heck do you sleep?” She looked up at the ceiling, where the wooden support beams were cracked and splintered. “Do you hang upside down like a bat?”

He chuckled amusedly. “Sleep is for the weak, my dear. Normally I’ll just conk out in my chair for a few hours whenever the mood strikes.” He nodded towards the plush armchair in front of his radio console.

She found that odd, considering he slept so soundly on the few occasions they shared her bed. Were those the only times he’s ever gotten a good night’s sleep? She wondered if he allowed himself to be that unguarded with anyone else. Selfishly, she hoped it was only her.

“That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

He shrugged. “If I ever desire something cozier, I could just take an axe to the chest and give myself an excuse to stay with you again.”

Charlie choked on her drink. “Y-You’ll do what now?!”

A record scratched, and the sound wasn’t from the phonograph but the radio demon himself. He waved both of his hands in a frantic attempt to backtrack, splashing his drink on his sweater. “I-I mean because that ridiculous barge of pillows you call a bed is so very luxurious! I find myself envious of it at times!”

“R-Right…” She laughed awkwardly along with him. “You don’t… you don’t need to get axed… I mean if you want… y-you can… err… it’s certainly big enough…” The princess stumbled over her words and shut herself up by downing the rest of her drink. She looked around the room, desperate to find something else to talk about. “Crocodiles are cool!” she blurted out.

Confused by her outburst, he looked behind him at the reptilian skull hanging on the wall. “That’s an alligator, my dear.”

A few hours and drinks later, Charlie was curled up on the loveseat, pleasantly buzzed and giggling to herself as she listened to Alastor drunkenly babble about whatever was on his mind. He was a chatty guy to begin with, but alcohol tuned him to a channel where every thought got broadcasted. She had been sitting for a while with her legs folded underneath her and readjusted so she could stretch them out. Without missing a beat in his ramblings, he hooked his arm under her legs and draped them over his lap. He was in the middle of telling her all about Rosie’s scoundrel of a first husband when her stomach interrupted with a loud growl.

“Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly, clutching her hands to her belly as if that would stop her hunger pangs.

“I’m feeling a bit peckish myself. What do you say to a late-night snack?”

She nodded eagerly. “Do you think Niffty is still in the kitchen? If you distract her, maybe I can snag us something from the fridge.”

“No need, my dear. I can whip us up a treat right here.” He wriggled his fingers in the air. “What are you in the mood for?”

“What do you usually make for yourself?”

His grin darkened. “Are you sure you want to know? I have quite the eclectic taste.”

“So long as it’s not something I’d find on a menu in Cannibal Town, I’ll try it!”

Giddiness stretched the radio demon’s smile wide. With a dramatic flourish, a platter appeared in his hand, upon which were raw, bloodied slices of meat.

Charlie felt queasy and was beginning to regret her emboldened choice. “What is it?” she asked.

“Venison!” he replied excitedly. She gave a squeak of horror and he laughed, waving his hand flippantly. “From an actual deer, my dear, not the kind like yours truly.” He took a piece and squeezed it, letting the blood trickle down his fingers before popping it into his mouth.

She watched him with a mix of disgust and intrigue, heart pounding as his tongue darted out to lick the blood from his fingers. He offered the platter to her and she hesitantly plucked off the smallest piece of meat she could find. She held it delicately between two fingers as she gave it a curious sniff. The aroma was earthy and a little sweet, with the distinct metallic tang of blood. It smelled alarmingly like Alastor himself, which made more than just queasiness bubble in her stomach.

“I can cook it for you, if you prefer,” he offered.

“I’ll try it raw. That’s how you usually eat it, right?” Charlie tossed the venison into her mouth, preparing it upchuck it once she started chewing. But after she got past the initial gaminess of it, she actually quite liked it. It had a smooth, nutty flavor and slid easy down her throat. As she reached for another slice, she shivered, skin prickling from the thick static that suddenly buzzed in the air.

Its source was Alastor, who was hunched over as he watched her, eyes black and pupils turned to radio dials. He’s never looked at her like this before, with such a hunger in his eyes that made her think he wanted to slice her up to serve on a platter. Her survival instinct kicked in, telling her to run. That she was a fool for letting this charming monster lure her into his trap where he planned to devour her whole.

But there was something else in his eyes, something deeper and more desperate than hunger, that set the blood in her veins on fire. It made her want to offer herself to him, to bare her neck and let him sink his teeth into it. And whether he tore her throat out or treated her to more tender ministrations, that uncertain outcome was both terrifying and tantalizing.

“Do you like it?” he growled, so thick and heavily modulated that she could barely understand him.

“I-I do.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice shook. From fear or excitement, she wasn’t sure.

His eyes followed her fingers to the tray, then to her mouth, then trailed slowly down her throat as she swallowed. He did the same, neck muscles pulled tight against his Adam’s apple as it bopped up and down. As his eyes flitted back up to her lips, he reached out and tucked his fingers under her chin, tilting it slightly. His thumb pressed against the corner of her mouth to catch the drop of venison blood before it could dribble down her face. Pulling away, he inspected the dark red smudge on his thumb before sucking it into his mouth and licking it clean. A strange noise gurgled from deep in his chest and she heard what sounded like bones cracking. Glancing up, she realized his antlers had splintered, and she watched mesmerized as they branched out like tree limbs.

She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her throat was dry and her mouth tasted metallic, though she didn’t think it was from the raw deer meat. With a shaky hand, she fumbled for her glass on the side table. Her knuckles knocked it over the edge and it shattered on the floor.

Alastor flinched, the sound of breaking glass snapping him out of his demonic trance. He propelled himself off the loveseat like he had been shot out of a cannon. “N-Not to worry, my dear!” he stammered, voice loud and radio filter crackling unevenly. “I can clean that up!” He snapped his fingers and the glass repaired itself and flew into his hand. “H-How… how about another drink?!”

“Yeah… a drink… a drink sounds good!” she agreed.

Alastor cursed under his breath as another splash of whiskey soaked into his sweater. He put the bottle back down on the record console and clenched his trembling hands into fists. The few deep breaths he took did little to calm his nerves or keep his head from reeling. His undead heart was beating so fast, it very well might thrust him up into his grave and bring his rotted corpse back to life.

This heady hooch was both the cause of and the salvation for his current predicament. A night filled with feelings and urges and Charlie had him desperate to cross a line with her he knows he shouldn’t cross. Each drink had been a little devil on his shoulder, whispering in his ear to inch his hoof over that line, little by little.

As his inhibitions dissolved like fairy floss in water, all he wanted was to delve deeper into these bourbon-soaked delusions that the princess’s affection for him was more than just an appreciation for her business partner. All these moments tonight – her fingers threading through his hair, her lips lingering against his cheek just a few seconds past the click of the camera shutter, her hands clinging to his waist a little too tightly – they had to mean something.

His thoughts continued to spiral as he finished preparing their drinks. So distracted, he grabbed a stalk of mint before realizing what he was doing and it instantly shriveled in his hand. With an annoyed huff, he glared at his reflection in the radio tower window. His costume makeup had gotten so smudged that he looked more like an emaciated panda than a skeleton. He was about to wipe off the black mark on his cheek with the sleeve of his sweater when his arm froze in midair.

That was Charlie’s lipstick.

Had he spent the entire night with her kiss memorialized on his cheek?

He brushed two fingers gently against the mark, feeling the corners of his smile twitch. The smell of mint suddenly became overbearing and he glanced down to see the dead herb had not only sprung back to life, but had grown so lush that it bloomed tiny flowers. He stared at it in bewilderment, then plucked off a few leaves before it could wither again.

After handing a drink to Charlie, he sat down next to her on the loveseat. Without really thinking about it, he scooped up her legs and plopped them in his lap again. One arm slinked along the back cushion and the other rested on top of her knees. She snuggled even closer and leaned her head against the loveseat, using his arm as a pillow.

Alastor relaxed back and shut his eyes, unable to help the buzzy hum of contentment that slipped from his lips. He heard the princess laugh and cracked open an eye. She was watching him with an amused, yet affectionate smile.

“You really are like a kitten when you’re drunk.”

He lifted his head and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Now who told you that?”

“Angel heard it from that friend of yours who stopped by the hotel a while back.”

“Mimzy,” he grumbled. “She does love to flap her gums about utter nonsense.”

She poked his chest. “I know you’ve got a soft side buried in there somewhere. Just look at tonight! You threw an amazing party for our hotel guests. That was very sweet of you.”

“I didn’t do it for them.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

Taking a swig of his drink, he found it difficult to swallow. He gave a bored shrug. “I just wanted to piss off your father,” he lied.

She shook her head. “Whatever you say, Al.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while and listen to the tinny melody coming from the record player. It was a lazy jazz waltz and Alastor realized he had been absently tracing a three-beat pattern on Charlie’s knee, his thumb gliding against the smooth texture of her stockings. Her hoof bounced in time to the plucks of the double bass.

“Would you care to dance, Charlie?”

The princess perked up at his suggestion. “Yes!”

He pulled her to her feet and into the first step of the waltz. One hand clasped with hers and the other found her waist. Her forearm rested against his shoulder, and as they moved about, her hand climbed up his sweater and cradled the base of his skull. Shy fingers tangled in his hair and stroked against his fuzzy undercut.

The pleasantly muddled state of his mind meant that this wasn’t his most coordinated footwork. They glided clumsily around the room, giggling to each other whenever one of them stumbled over a pile of junk or tripped on a loose floorboard. At one point he gave her a spin, and she came barrelling back into him and nearly knocked him over.

The radio demon wasn’t sure how long they danced for. Nor had he noticed when the music slowed into something soft and romantic. The trumpet and trombone had retired several songs ago and the saxophone crooned passionately over a swell of strings. Was this just another track on the record or had he unknowingly influenced it?

His hands slid along her waist, slowly, deliberately, before curling possessively around her back. With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer. Charlie placed her hands on his chest and closed the remaining distance, melting in the embrace he held her in. He swayed them gently to the music, feet barely leaving the floor.

She sighed as she laid her head against his shoulder. “Al, you can be so… sometimes…” she trailed off dreamily.

Alastor chuckled softly. “Be so what, my dear?”

“Yeah… sometimes.”

He pressed his cheek to the crown of her head and closed his eyes. This felt taboo. A moment like this should be forbidden in a place as terrible as hell.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“This is my room, darling.”

“No, I mean at this hotel.”

He hummed in agreement. “I do quite enjoy some of the company here.”

The clock tower chimed in the distance, cutting through the music and reminding Alastor that dawn was quickly approaching.

“Charlie,” he murmured. “I must tell you something.”

“Mmm?” She had her eyes closed as they continued swaying to the music.

Liquid courage was failing him right now. “You might be the best dance partner I’ve ever had.”

She laughed into his chest, a euphoric buzz that resonated in his bones. “I hardly call this dancing. We’re just sort of propping each other up.” She looked up at him and scrunched her nose. “And I bet you say that to every girl you dance with.”

He smiled softly down at her. “I’ve never danced like this with a gal before. Certainly not one like you.”

Clarity suddenly sharpened in the princess’s eyes. “Alastor, what are we doing?”

The music stopped and so did he. “I… I don’t rightly know, Charlie.”

She pulled away from him and stumbled back against the loveseat, sitting down clumsily on the armrest as it stopped her from falling to the floor.

“Oh gosh! I didn’t realize how late it was. I should probably get going. Still gotta plan tomorrow’s group activity and… and… I think I left my hair straightener on. Should definitely check on that before I burn the hotel down.”

Alastor’s head was spinning as he tried to make sense of what had just occurred between them. “I should turn in as well. It’s back to the old grind tomorrow, after all.”

“Thanks for the drinks.” She rubbed her neck. “And… umm… the dance.” She twirled in the direction of the door and bumped into the loveseat again with a winded “oof!” Laughing nervously to herself, she shot him a pair of awkward finger guns before hurrying to the door.

“Perhaps I could escort you back to your room!” Alastor called after her. The desperation in his voice took him by surprise. He straightened his posture and slapped on the most aloof smile he could manage despite his inebriated fog. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed you to walk back all by your lonesome.”

“It’s just a few floors, Al.”

“Yes, but you could-” He twirled his hand in the air as his brain worked overtime. “Stumble into the elevator doors and have your head decapitated! Or fall down the stairs and break your neck! Or trip on the carpet and go careening out a window! We are on the top floor, you know.”

She snorted. “Now I’m kind of afraid to take the elevator.”

“Say no more!” Before he could overthink such a brass decision, he scooped her up into his arms and they disappeared together in a whirlwind of shadows.

“Ala-!” His name hung unfinished in the air of the now empty radio tower.

“-stor!”

Charlie tumbled out of Alastor’s arms as he lost his footing. She flailed frantically in an attempt to grasp something to break her fall. Landing with a bounce on her bed, the wind was knocked out of her when he came crashing down on top of her. His hands shot out to brace himself, but they slipped on the blanket and he faceplanted against her shoulder, nearly poking her eye out with one of his antlers.

He let out a pained groan and she felt his breath against her neck, warm and moist. She bit on her bottom lip to hold back the gasp that caught in her throat.

She was pinned underneath him, unable to move under the weight of his body. Both her arms were flung above her head and one of his was bent at an odd angle and trapped against the small of her back. She had a leg awkwardly hooked around his waist. Her pumpkin dress had ridden up, and if not for her stockings, her bare thigh would be pressed against his hip.

“Charlie…” he rasped. The thick static in his voice teased her skin and she shivered violently.

“A-Al…” she breathed.

“Forgive me, I… I must have… misjudged the distance…” He pulled his head back, eyes completely black and quivering in their sockets as he stared down at her. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he continued to stare at her, his eyes meeting hers and then darting down to her lips. He licked his own, lapping at the ichor that dripped out of the corner of his mouth. He looked like he wanted to kiss her, and holy hell did she ever want him to. She needed to know if this was all just some cruel game he was playing with her. And if it was, let him deal the next hand even if she was doomed to lose.

He wriggled his arm out from underneath her, but instead of pushing himself up, settled his hand on her waist. She squirmed underneath him, hips feeling restless from the heat that pooled low in her stomach. He made a noise and shifted on top of her, then she felt something hard press against her thigh.

Oh fuck, was that his-?!

They both looked down, then back up at each other, and Alastor scrambled off the bed, tendrils writhing wildly around his form. He suddenly burst into a fit of deranged laughter.

“These damn things! They’re a bit difficult to control when you’re as sloshed as I currently am!” He snatched one of them out of the air and wiggled it at her to emphasis his point. “Good call on ending the night when we did, my dear. Why, one more drink and I would have embalmed myself! Is that even possible when you’re already dead? I’d rather not find out!” He bowed, waving the undulating tentacle at her like it was a handkerchief. “I do apologize if I’ve sullied your evening. I won’t pester you with my drunken foolishness anymore tonight!” Black haze crept up his boots as he prepared to make his exit.

“Alastor, wait!”

Charlie sprang off the bed and rushed towards him, grasping his arm before he could dematerialize.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I had a really nice time with you tonight.”

He froze when she touched him and blinked hard at her. “Oh! Well, that’s just swell. I’m relieved to hear it.”

“And I…”

She chewed on her bottom lip, fighting against the surge of emotions that wanted to erupt from her. He cocked his head at her, eyes expectant, mouth shrunken into as small of a smile as he was capable of. She placed a hand on his chest and rose to the tip of her hooves. The kiss she pressed against his cheek was soft, tender, and lingered a few seconds past what anyone would consider platonic.

“I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for the hotel. And for me.”

Alastor stood there in stunned silence. When he spoke next, the filter was gone from his voice. “It’s been my pleasure, Charlie.”

She stepped back and clutched her hands to her chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nodded as he began to sink down into the dark shadows at his feet. “Of course you will.”

Alastor burned.

Since returning to his radio tower, he’s been hunched over in his armchair, claws ripping straight through the fabric as he dug trenches into his own legs. The pain did little to distract from his torment. He glowered down at the source of his affliction, at the erection that strained against his trousers and pointed mockingly up at him.

His head was spinning and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. He swallowed painfully against it. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to hinder one’s libido? It seemed to have the opposite effect on him. He’s been in various states of arousal all night and was more keyed up than a locksmith in a high-rise apartment building. It physically hurt. His parts ached and throbbed and demanded his attention. Now that he was alone, he couldn’t focus on anything except the pulsing need between his legs.

Alastor had never felt this way about anyone before. He used to see Charlie as an endearing try-hard at best and a naive fool at worst. But now? She was consuming every part of him. He craved her attention. He sought out her company. When he wasn’t with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. When he thought about her, his mind spiraled from innocent whims to vulgar fantasies he didn’t know he was capable of manifesting. Half-formed images in his head, never fully realized for lack of personal experience to pull from. Her hand dipping inside his pants but never finding its destination. His tongue tracing a path down her neck but never making it past the second button of her shirt. Her bare form on top of his but hazy, distorted, never moving.

He wanted her. In every way he could define the word, he wanted her.

Charlotte Morningstar had burrowed herself into his very essence. She was going to ruin him. He feared she very well might have already.

The radio demon bolted up from his chair. He was already descending into madness. Sitting here was only going to expedite the process. He needed to go kill something. That was always his solution when he got worked up into a frenzy like this. He peered out the window, searching for any unsuspecting sinner who was out on the street below. He didn’t even care if it was a hotel guest. He’d make it quick. They wouldn’t even know it was him. And they’d regenerate eventually, anyways.

He stepped back. No. That wasn’t going to help. This wasn’t a bloodlust he needed to satiate. There was a different kind of beast scraping at his insides.

He needed relief.

He needed to get this out of his system. He needed to get her out of his system.

Looking at his armchair, Alastor suddenly felt like an inmate on death row staring down the electric chair as he awaited his own demise.

He sat back down.

His hand hovered above his crotch, fingers flexing as he contemplated what he was about to do. It’s… been a while. So long, in fact, he couldn’t even recall the last time he’s done this in his afterlife. As a human, it was a rare and forgettable experience. Usually just a quick tug off in the shower every couple of months. Bodily maintenance. No different or less cumbersome than cleaning the wax from his ears.

He started slow, cupping himself over his pants and squeezing gently. That elicited a soft, shallow hum from his chest, relieving the tiniest bit of tension that was coiled deep inside of him. But it wasn’t enough.

He hastily unbuttoned his trousers, hissing in relief as his erection had more room to expand. It stretched out his underwear and protruded shamelessly out of his pants. His smile snarled in disgust as he saw the patch of wetness already covering the tip, looking like it had dried and re-saturated multiple times throughout the night. The complete lack of control over his own body was pathetic. This was going to be a messy affair.

Peeling himself out of his underwear, he held his length in his palm. It was heavy and he could feel it pulsing in anticipation. A thick, unsightly vein stretched up towards the reddish head, where the skin was taut and shiny. Alastor brushed his thumb against his tip and recoiled, teeth clenching as he squirmed from the discomfort. He was so incredibly hard, so oversensitive, that the pain overwhelmed any pleasure. He supposed that was his own fault for waiting so long to take care of this.

He wrapped his fist around his shaft and gave it an experimental pump. Something warm and pleasant stirred in his gut, melting away the discomfort. He stroked again. And again. Grip tightening, he pumped himself faster. With a groan, he slouched down further in his armchair, spreading his legs to give himself better leverage. If he still had toes, they’d be curled inside his boots.

Static buzzed thick in the room, swelling with each of the radio demon’s heavy exhales. The lewd sound of his fist smacking against his stomach made his ears twitch. He tried to focus on these tangible, present things. Just on himself, on the task he was performing, on the pleasure it was giving him. He refused to close his eyes. Every time he did, he saw her.

Charlie was a vivid image in his mind, branded onto the back of his eyelids. Her sweet smile sandwiched by those adorable pink marks on her cheeks. The soft tassels of her golden hair. The milky porcelain of her skin, so perfect and unmarred. The soft flare of her hips and even softer swell of her chest.

Even with his eyes open, she was still all he saw. The candles in his radio tower cast tall, slender shadows on the walls that curved into her form. Outside the window, the red and gold streetlights shined brightly like a pair of familiar eyes.

“C-Charlie,” Alastor whimpered. Even though he was alone, he smacked a hand over his mouth. Shame and anger and want – oh god, so much want - were disintegrating him like acid. The pleasure was overwhelming him but there was an emptiness in his chest that ached worse than the wretched organ he held in his hand.

He was already past the point of no return. He might as well give fully into his desire and delve into these forbidden fantasies.

He thought about Charlie in that photo booth, squirming in his lap. How badly he wanted her in his lap right now, to press this hard thing against her and make sure she knew that she was the cause of it. The princess was always preaching to him about responsibilities. He’d tell her to take responsibility for making him like this.

His calloused palm was rough against the sensitive skin of his shaft. Her hands would feel so lovely wrapped around it, he imagined. Soft and gentle, but firm, like how she treated him when she tended to his angelic wound.

His free hand groped at the cushiony armrest and he pretended it was some soft part of her. He pictured himself pushing off her suspenders, dragging a claw down the front of her shirt to pop off the buttons, then yanking down her brassiere so he could grip her bare breast in his hand. All that tender, malleable flesh would feel luscious squeezed between his claws.

His fantasy shifted and he had the princess pinned down on her bed. Her dress pulled up to her ribs, her underwear pulled down to her ankles. He was between her legs, rocking his body in rhythm against hers. How would it feel to be inside her? He’s overheard such acts being described as tight, squeezing, like a warm, wet hug. That never sounded very appealing to him, but imagining Charlie fitted snugly around his throbbing member? Oh, he knew she would feel fucking divine.

Alastor threw his head back against the chair and bit into his hand as a ragged moan tore his vocal cords to shreds. He didn’t know he was capable of making such disgusting, deplorable sounds. He couldn’t control himself. His antlers had created a gnarled crown atop his head, its jagged tips scratching against the wooden frame of his armchair.

His orgasm came with no warning. Hips bucking off the seat, the pressure in his gut exploded in a searing burst of pleasure. His free hand clawed frenziedly at the armrest and his antlers grew abnormally heavy, causing his head to slump forward and chipping off a prong as it smacked painfully against the radio console. The radio demon let out a sound, something gurgled and distressed like a wounded animal, as his fist was a blur between his legs, milking himself of an entire afterlife of pent-up need he didn’t know he had. The lamps began flickering around him. Distantly in his desire-consumed brain he hoped that the electrical anomaly was confined to just his room and not the entire hotel.

Alastor sunk back into his armchair as his lustful haze finally began to dissipate, chest heaving and sweaty hair clinging to his face. He glanced down at the aftermath and let out a staticky groan of disgust. His member was still half-risen and twitching pathetically as it dripped like a leaky faucet. He had made a mess of his trousers and some had even gotten on his sweater.

With a snap of his fingers, he cleaned himself up. His smile contorted into a grimace and he wrestled the sweater off in a clumsy fit of frustration. With another snap, he incinerated it in his hands. No amount of magic could fully erase those stains.

Neither physically nor emotionally did he feel better. Quite the opposite, in fact. His parts still ached and it felt like he had taken a mallet to his groin. What’s worse, post-masturbatory clarity and sobriety seemed to hit him at the same time, leaving him with a heavy sense of shame. This wasn’t just an infatuation anymore. His affection for the princess had warped into a grotesque obsession and now he had encroached into new territory he could never come back from.

Getting up from his seat, Alastor grabbed his dress coat and summoned his cane. He changed his mind. Perhaps a little carnage would make him feel better.

Chapter Text

“Gooooood morning, Char-Char!”

The princess hissed as light suddenly burned her closed eyelids. With a groan, she yanked the blanket above her head and rolled over in bed. She recognized her father’s voice and could hear him pitter-pattering around her room.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head!”

“Why are you being so loud?” she muttered irritably, smushing her pillow against her ears. Her head was pounding and his shrill, cheery voice was like a pickaxe to her skull. She cracked open an eye and watched as Lucifer peered behind the curtains he had just thrown open. He then pranced over to her closet and practically ripped the door off its hinges before looking inside.

“Partied a bit too hard last night, did ya?” He dropped to the floor and inspected under her bed. She could hear him mumbling to himself, then he popped back up on his feet. With his hands on his hips, he examined the room, concern wrinkling his brow. Then suddenly, he gripped her blanket and tore it off the bed.

“Dad!” Charlie wrenched it back from him. “What the hell are you doing?!”

He was now inside her bathroom and had tugged back the shower curtain. Then he moved onto the toilet, where he lifted up the lid and stuck his head inside the bowl. “I… uhh… dropped my contact!”

Her face contorted in confusion. “Since when do you wear contacts? Or even glasses, for that matter?”

Lucifer returned to her room and sat down on the foot of her bed. He smiled innocently at her. “So where’s Alastor?”

She tiredly rubbed her eyes. “What? I dunno. His room, probably?”

“Oh, that’s good. That’s great.” Her father was nodding his head reassuringly.

“Did you…” She paused. “Did you think he was here?”

He laughed, a little too loudly. “N-No! Why would I think that?! And what reason would that creep have for being in your room? I mean, it’s not like he’s sleeping in your bed, right?” His laughter cracked nervously and the smile dropped from his face. “Right?”

“Dad!” Charlie could feel her face heat up with embarrassment. “No, Alastor’s not sleeping in my bed!” Her stomach soured with guilt. That wasn’t entirely true, given recent events. “B-But even if he was, it’s none of your business who I share my bed with!”

He sighed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, kiddo. It’s just… I worry sometimes.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that too. It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s him.” Lucifer wrung his hands in his lap, and when he looked back up at her, his eyes had darkened with concern. “That man looks at you like he wants you to be his next meal.”

She shook her head. “Alastor’s my business partner. And my friend! He’s not gonna hurt me.”

“That’s not what I mean, Charlie.”

She knew exactly what her father meant because she had noticed it too. Something had shifted in her relationship with the radio demon. There’s been a simmering tension between them for months now. The heated gazes, lingering touches, deep conversations, the half-assed excuses to stay in each other’s company, it all made her realize that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one pining for something more. And last night as that tension threatened to boil over, it felt like both of them had desperately tried to slam the lid back on the pot.

There was no doubt in Charlie’s mind about her feelings for Alastor. But every time she mustered the courage to tell him, the wide scope of possible outcomes had her shoving those emotions back down inside herself.

What if she told him how she feels and he laughs in her face? “Oh Charlie,” he’d say to her as he’d give her head a few condescending pats. “You poor little lovesick girl. What makes you think I’d have any interest in that?” She could see his smug smile so clearly, a mix of amusement and pity, knowing he broke her heart and not caring.

Or what if confessing her feelings completely destroys their friendship? What if she had just been projecting things that weren’t there onto the growing closeness between them? While she fantasized about him sweeping her off her feet like some kind of demonic knight in shining armor, he was just grateful to have a close friend, someone he could trust. She could completely ruin that, forcing him to pack his bags and get as far away from her and this hotel as possible. The thought of losing him entirely was a terrifying prospect far worse than the sting of rejection.

Then there was the best outcome, which was also the most terrifying. What if he did feel the same way?

What then?

Charlie pressed her palms against her eyelids to soothe her growing migraine. She was too hungover to think about all this right now.

Lucifer, sensing she didn’t want to talk about the radio demon anymore, patted her knee. “Anyways, I just came up here to check on you. It’s nearly one o’clock and I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead!”

A short while later, Charlie dragged herself out of bed, made herself presentable, and headed downstairs. The lobby looked like an axe murderer had rampaged through a frat house. Party streamers and empty booze bottles littered the floor. Ted the lizard pervert was passed out on the pool table, using a tapestry he had torn down from the wall as a blanket. One of Alastor’s shadowy minions was still around and it was gnawing on the skeletal remains of the drummer. When it spotted her, it smiled widely and waved the femur in its hand.

She scrubbed a hand down her face. That was a mess for future Charlie to deal with.

When she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to find it nearly vacant. Angel Dust was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, slugging back coffee with one hand while the other three pried off the countless googly eyes that were still stuck to his fur.

“Morning, toots,” he greeted. “Or ehh, afternoon actually. That was some party last night.”

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Still asleep or hugging porcelain, probably. After you and Alastor left, everybody got a second wind. It got pretty crazy down here.”

“Oh geeze. Well, I’m glad you all had fun, at least.”

Angel put down his mug and studied her for a moment. “So I gotta ask. What’s going on between you and that smiley fuck?”

The question smacked the grogginess right out of her. “What do you mean?! N-Nothing! Nothing’s going on!”

“Really? ‘Cause it sure looks like something.” Angel smirked. “He couldn’t keep his hands off you all night.”

She blushed. “That’s just how Alastor is.”

“With you, maybe. He’s pretty no-touchy with everyone else. One time at breakfast, I accidentally grabbed the salt at the same time as him and he threw a brick at my face!” He rubbed his cheek sympathetically. “Just pulled it out of thin air and lobbed it right at me.”

“He was just buzzed last night and being a bit overly friendly.” The princess knew her reasonings sounded weak. She didn’t even believe them herself.

Angel leaned in closer. “Charlie, if you two are secretly fucking, you can tell me. I won’t judge.” He put all four of his hands up. “Okay, I will judge a little. But I won’t tell anyone.”

She nearly fell off her stool. “W-Why would you… of course we’re not! Alastor, he’s… he’s… and I… and we…” She glared at him. “That’s so inappropriate!”

A shit-eating grin spread across Angel’s face. “Eh, you’re right. I don’t think Prudey the red-dicked reindeer even knows where to stick it.”

The princess squeaked incoherently and put her head down on the counter. Was everyone she interacted with today going to interrogate her about her relationship with the radio demon?

A few moments later, the kitchen door creaked open and Alastor himself shuffled inside. Instinctively Charlie perked up, face brightening, and she heard Angel snicker next to her. He gave her a knowing wink before hopping off his stool and leaving the pair alone.

Alastor looked absolutely haggard. He was still wearing the same clothes from the party, minus the sweater, and his costume makeup was smeared beyond recognition into a splotchy gray mess. His shirt was wrinkled and untucked with a concerning amount of blood splattered on it. The tip on one of his antlers was snapped off, making his head hang a little lopsided. Just the fact that he came down here without using his powers told her enough about his current state.

“Morning,” she greeted. “Do you feel as shitty as I do?”

“On the contrary, I feel like a million bucks!” he said cheerfully. “So far today I went for an early morning stroll, picked up my dry cleaning, and did my taxes!”

She blinked slowly at him. “Really?”

He slumped tiredly against the doorframe. “No, darling. I woke up at noon and vomited into the bell of a saxophone.”

“Sounds about right.” She watched him as he slowly made his way over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes as he did so, not noticing when the cup started overflowing. “Are you okay, Al?”

He rubbed his temples. “Aside from the icepick that some invisible ice cutter is trying to lodge into my skull? I’m just dandy.”

“Well, you’re covered in blood.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. It’s not mine.”

“And it looks like you cracked one of your antlers.”

He made a tiny noise of static and ran his fingers over the appendage. “I-I, ah, must have knocked it against something while I was sleeping. Passed out the minute I got back to my room last night. No need to concern yourself with that either. It’ll grow back in a day or two.”

An awkward stretch of silence passed between them. Alastor stood on the opposite end of the counter, shoulders hunched and arms folded as he drank his coffee. Each time their eyes met, they both briskly looked away.

“So… umm… what are you up to today?” Charlie asked.

“Not much of anything in particular.”

“We’ve got the group activity in a little bit, if you wanted to come?”

He chuckled. “Not even one day off for these poor lost souls? Perhaps punishing sinners is a family business after all.”

“Having a routine is important!” she defended. “And I want to kick off our second year at the hotel with something positive.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps I’ll swing by for a bit.”

It was nearly two o’clock by the time everyone stumbled down to the lounge area for that day’s group activity. Charlie gave each sinner a peppy greeting and was met with icy glares, annoyed grumbles, and a few half-hearted death threats.

“Hi Angel! I see you’re back to your normal number of eyes.”

“I’m gonna be pulling googly eyes out of my ass crack for the next week.” He was carrying a bleary-eyed Niffty under his arm like some kind of purse dog.

“Laurel! Leonard! How is everyone’s favorite hotel couple?” Laurel was dragging her husband’s limp body behind her. He looked so lifeless that Charlie wondered if all the dancing last night had killed him.

“Your makeup today is very bold, Heather!”

The smudged rings of mascara around Heather the cheerleader killer’s eyes looked like a raccoon’s mask. She covered her mouth and dry-heaved before sitting on the floor.

“Good to see you, Husk! You look… surprisingly lucid.”

“Y’all are a bunch of rookies,” Husk said as he unscrewed his flask.

Alastor, per the norm, was last to show up. If Charlie’s eyes weren’t accustomed to catching the tiniest flicker of shadow that signaled his arrival, she wouldn’t have even noticed him creeping up from the darkness in the corner of the room. He was back to his usual dapper self, dress coat flaring out as he leaned on his cane.

“Okay everyone! I promise I won’t keep you long. Today’s activity is more about inner reflection.” She motioned to the bulletin board hanging on the wall. It was blank except for the cut-out lettering that read Why am I here?

“As we start a new year at this hotel, I thought we all could reflect on why we’re here. Now I know the obvious answer for most of you is you’re looking for redemption. You want to get into heaven. But I challenge you to think deeper than that! What’s the real reason you want those things? You can write down your response and put it to the board.” She held up the pad of sticky notes in her hand. As she began handing out the squares of paper, she continued her speech. “You don’t need to think of an answer right now. Or even today! Take as much time as you need. And if you’re not comfortable putting your thoughts on display for everyone to see, that’s okay too. What’s important is that you figure this out for yourself. We have to understand our own desires before we can lay down the groundwork to achieve them.”

For the princess, it was an easy question to answer. Her sticky note read I want to prove that everyone has the capacity for good. She stuck it to the board, then watched as a few of the hotel guests scribbled down their answers and added theirs. Taking a peek, she felt her heart warm at Peppy the adulterer’s I want to see my kids again and Niffty’s I like having friends.

After walking around to offer encouragement, she noticed that Alastor had abandoned his shadowy corner and was currently standing in front of the bulletin board, staring unblinking at it while his sticky note was clutched tightly in his hand. Curiously, she watched him as he remained frozen in that spot, giving no reaction as a few sinners grumbled and stepped around him to reach the board.

“Alastor?”

He didn’t answer her. Whether he was thinking really hard about the group activity or had fallen asleep with his eyes open, Charlie decided it was best not to disturb him. As the lobby cleared out, she spared the radio demon one last concerned glance before heading back up to her room.

Why am I here?

Alastor’s thoughts were a broken record, echoing that question on an endless loop.

Why am I here?

As he stood in front of the bulletin board, he could feel the prickling warmth from the lounge fireplace against his back. The flames cast a long shadow in front of him, stretching like an outreached hand up to the ceiling. Although he couldn’t see it, he could sense his grinning doppelganger sneering at him from above.

Why am I here?

The sticky note in his hand had been crumpled and smoothed out multiple times. He considered tossing it into the fire.

“You, uhh... alright, boss?”

Alastor heard Husk’s voice from behind him. “Just peachy,” he replied without turning around.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for a few hours now.”

“Well, it’s quite an interesting wall.”

“I can see that. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Alastor peered over his shoulder at the feline bartender, who was stacking glasses behind the bar. He tucked the sticky note into his pocket and moseyed over there, where he perched on one of the stools.

Husk stopped what he was doing and lowered the glass that he was about to shelf. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“After last night’s bacchanalian debacle? No thank you.” Husk shrugged and went back to his chores while the radio demon began drumming his fingers on the bar counter. “Can I confess something to you, Husker? And do you promise not to tell a soul?”

“I know I don’t really have a choice either way,” he replied. “So go ahead.”

“We’ve been at this hotel for quite some time now.”

“Yeah?”

“And Charlie has been such a lovely hostess, hasn’t she?”

Husk narrowed his eyes. “…Yeah?”

“Now this may come as a shock to you, considering my disdain for such sentimental drivel, but I…” Alastor rested his head in his hand and sighed. “I’ve found myself quite smitten with our dear princess. Against my better judgement and every shred of self-preservation, I’ve developed very strong feelings for her. Of the romantic variety.”

Husk blinked at him, totally unfazed. “I hadn’t noticed,” he said flatly.

Alastor didn’t clock the sarcasm. “And now I’ve found myself in a bit of a crisis, unsure of how to proceed. You see, I’ve tried quite earnestly to rid myself of these meddlesome feelings. I’ve shirked my duties, repaid her kindness with harsh words and inaction, and even attempted to avoid her entirely. Why, I’ve been so desperate to relief myself of these desires, I’ve resorted to truly despicable things!”

Husk scrunched his face in disgust. “Gross.”

“But every time I push away, that darling smile of hers pulls me back in twice as deep.” The radio demon spun on his stool and threw his arms out dramatically. “I’m just as hopeless as every other fool down here damned to an eternity of self-pity and despair!” He lurched over the counter and grabbed Husk by the suspenders. “What should I do, Husker?”

Husk shoved him off. “Are you seriously asking me for romance advice?”

“Why, yes. You’re the bartender, after all. Isn’t that part of your job?”

The cat demon pinched his brow with a long, exasperated sigh. “I don’t know, man. Follow your heart, I guess? If you even have one of those. And try not to leave a trail of bodies behind you.”

“Well, it’s too late for that,” Alastor muttered.

“It ain’t gonna get any better unless you talk to her. Charlie’s a good person. If she doesn’t feel the same way, I’m sure she’ll let you down easy. And if she does…”

“If she does?” he repeated, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Then she’s even crazier than you are.”

Alastor sat with that for a moment, then hopped off his stool and bonked Husk on the head with his microphone. “Thanks for the terrible advice, old pal. It was woefully unhelpful.” Before turning to leave, he bared his teeth in a threatening smile. “Oh, and if you tell anyone about what we’ve discussed, I’ll eviscerate your corpse, weave your entrails into piano wire, and tickle the ivories with a jolly little jingle entitled Husk Should Have Kept His Big Fat Mouth Shut.”

The bartender shuddered at the vivid imagery. “Understood.”

Alastor’s heart-to-heart with Husk had only sent his mind spiraling further. Not wanting to return to his radio tower and needing some fresh air (or as close to fresh as hell could provide), he meandered aimlessly around the hotel grounds, eventually finding himself at the statue of Charlie’s fallen companion.

It was there he sat until the hellish suns crept low in the sky. He stared down at his boots and watched as his shadow extended along the ground, its gaping mouth stretched into a gleeful grin as its shoulders shook with silent laughter. Watching him, judging him, mocking him, as it so liked to do.

“Leave me in peace,” he spat bitterly at it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Alastor’s ears twitched at the familiar voice and he whipped his head around. The princess was standing a few feet away, smiling meekly at him. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he had no clue how long she had been there.

“Charlie!” he exclaimed. “Apologies, my dear. That wasn’t directed at you.”

“I’ve been looking for you. Can I sit?”

He scooted over on the statue’s ledge and patted the spot next to him. “Do you require my assistance with something?”

“No, nothing like that. I just, umm…” She kicked at a few loose pebbles on the ground. “I wanted to check on you. You seem off today. It’s like your mind is a million miles away.”

He let out a pensive hum. “I’ve been contemplating that question you asked earlier.”

She laughed. “I appreciate that you’re taking my lessons seriously for once, but you don’t need to stress about it. It’s just some silly thought exercise. It’s okay if you don’t have an answer for it.”

“No, it’s not that. I answered the question quite easily, actually. Scribbled it down the minute you handed me a pen.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the sticky note. “What I’ve found to be most difficult is admitting it to myself.” With a trembling hand, he handed her the square of paper.

There was one word written on it.

You.

Charlie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand, Alastor. What does this mean?”

“It’s you, Charlie. You’re the reason why I’m here.”

“…Me?”

He could feel the blood pulsing in his veins, threatening to burst and drown him in his own emotions. He stood up and began pacing frantically as he spoke. His shadow lagged several steps behind as it tried to keep up.

“I don’t care about redemption. Quite honestly, I don’t really care about this hotel either. But… I care about you. And I care about what you want. I suppose in some way, that means I do care about those others things. I want to see you happy. I want to see you succeed.”

He stopped and turned towards Charlie. “And I… I… I want you.”

The confession struck Alastor at his core like his spine was a tuning fork. It vibrated deafeningly in his ears, threatening to turn his very bones to dust.

The princess stared unblinking back at him, eyes wide and pupils trembling. She had risen to her feet and took a step back, looking overwhelmed.

“You want me?”

“Desperately.”

Alastor knew he was ripping his own heart to shreds but the floodgates had been opened and he couldn’t stop the waves of feelings that were finally pouring out of him.

“I want you in ways I shouldn’t. I want you in ways I don’t quite understand. I want you so badly, so singularly, so wholeheartedly, that I’ve been tearing myself apart trying to make sense of it. I’m no stranger to pain. But this… this is agony!” He clutched his chest. “It’s not this wretched holy wound that’s been slowing eating away at my powers. It’s you. I’ve let you consume every part of me!”

He continued pacing, breaking into a crazed laughter. “I’ve been a fool thinking I got off easy down here. I feel like I haven’t known what it truly means to be damned until now. Is this my eternal punishment? For just your mere presence to torment me, body and soul?” He rushed towards the princess and gripped her shoulders. “Please, Charlie. Tell me what I must do to free myself from this suffering.”

Charlie was struck speechless. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she struggled to find words. And before she could respond, before he could second guess himself, Alastor surged forward and kissed her.

He had to know what it felt like. Even just once. Even if she rebuked him. Even if it tortured him for the rest of his existence because he’d never get to do it again.

His lips collided with hers, messy but chaste, desperate but guarded. It was a clash of urgency and restraint, his teeth clenched to the point of cracking as he held back the feral part of himself that wanted to devour her whole. He could feel his claws ripping through her sleeves, digging into her flesh with a bruising possession. He refused to let her go, fearing that when he did, she would vanish like smoke between his fingers.

“Al,” Charlie gasped. Her hot breath was fire against his mouth. She tensed, then her hands shot up to grasp the lapels of his dress coat and she pressed deeper into their kiss.

Alastor’s eyes shot wide. He hardly noticed when his monocle fell from his cheek, how it cracked when it hit the cobblestone ground, how it shattered completely when he stumbled back and crushed it under his boot. The world had dissolved into a singular, terrifying, marvelous focus.

Charlie was kissing him back.

His grip softened, one hand rising to cradle her face. Her cheek was hot and flushed against his palm. His other hand traveled down her form, ghosting over her curves before slinking around her waist to pull her closer.

Her arms linked around his neck and he felt her fingers tangle in his hair. They scratched gently against his scalp, teasing the base of his flitting ears. Her lips parted and she dragged them against his, encouraging him to open up for her. He willingly did, devouring her mouth in a messy mix of tongue, teeth, and saliva.

“Charlie,” Alastor groaned, a harsh static that made them both shiver. “You wonderful, wretched girl. Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me?”

The princess pulled back to look at him, eyes half-lidded and lips wet and shiny. “You’re not the only one who’s been suffering.”

All the turmoil, the rage, the heartache of the last few months, it felt so insignificant to Alastor now. This frustrating waltz they’d been doing around each other, he had simply just needed to ask for her hand so they could dance it together.

They met in another searing kiss. And what he lacked in experience, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm. He plundered her mouth with a clumsy urgency, stealing every breath until his own lungs screamed in protest. Even then, he kept kissing her, vision blurring at the edges until a wave of dizziness threatened his consciousness. She met him with equal fervor, panting into his mouth, chest heaving against his own.

When their kiss finally fractured, they both pulled away with a gasp, clinging to one another as if their entire bodies would give way without the other as an anchor. Dazed, eyes locked, they stood there, lips burning from the aftermath and hearts drumming a joint cadence.

Doot do-do dooooo!

A triumphant fanfare emanated loudly from deep within the radio demon’s chest. He looked down bewilderedly, then back up at Charlie, and smack a hand to his face, feeling it heat up in embarrassment.

The princess laughed, then gently grasped his hand and lowered it. Rising to the tips of her hooves, she pecked him on the nose. A few strands of hair had fallen onto her face and he combed his fingers through them before tucking them behind her ear. His smile was the widest it’s ever been, warm and sincere as he beamed down at her.

“Golly,” Alastor breathed out in disbelief. His voice was raw and unfiltered. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months now.”

She scrunched her nose at him. “What took you so long?”

He chuckled. “What can I say, darling? I suppose the person I love to torture most is myself.”

As dusk bled across the sky, the pair lingered in their embrace. Neither dared to break the spell, the warm current of energy that hummed in the air. They were both grappling to understand the unspoken thing between them that had just blossomed into something more.

Alastor finally pulled away and held Charlie’s hands in his, not wanting to fully break contact just yet. “We should probably turn in,” he said. “Shouldn’t make a habit of these late nights. It sets a bad example for our hotel guests, as you like to say.”

“How nice of you to be concerned for them,” she replied in jest. Biting her bottom lip, which was exceptionally plush from the activities they just partook in, she looked up at the hotel. Her eyes drifted between his radio tower and her bedroom on the other side of the building. He sensed the same question that was on his mind was on hers.

What happens now?

That was a question best answered when his brain didn’t feel like a popped bottle of bubbly champagne.

“You know, there’s this new patisserie that opened down the street from Rosie’s. Their pastry menu might be a bit too savory for your taste, but I hear their cappuccinos are to die for.” He rolled back and forth on his heels. “Would you care to accompany me there tomorrow? It would be nice to get away from the idle prattle of our needy residents for a little while.”

Charlie’s lips quirked up in a flirty smile. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“W-Why yes,” he stammered. “I suppose we could consider it that.”

“I’d love to.”

“Splendid!” Alastor brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Until then, my dearest.”

Chapter Text

The hotel was a ballroom.

Or so one might think if they saw how its owner glided effortlessly down its long hallways. Her feet shuffled in time to an unheard melody, hands reaching out for an invisible partner. Sometimes not so invisible, as every unexpecting guest she passed was swept up into her dance.

“Good morning, Husk!” Charlie sang as she spotted the cat demon coming out of his room. Before he could grunt a greeting in return, she grasped his hands and guided him in a tango towards the elevator. Her phone was buzzing in her pocket but she ignored it. Instead, her feet bounced along the carpet in time to the upbeat ringtone.

“Isn’t it such a beautiful day, Niff?” Niffty had been scurrying after a roach when the princess lifted her right off her feet and spun them around. She ran into Angel Dust, who she bumped hips with before placing the little bug woman in his arms. He joined Husk at the elevator and the trio watched as she continued skipping down the hallway.

“She seems more chipper than normal,” Husk commented.

“Maybe she’s on drugs!” Niffty suggested.

Angel wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe she got laid.”

Husk’s face contorted in disgust as he hit the elevator button. “I hope it’s drugs.”

As Charlie rounded the corner towards the stairs, she gazed out the window at Dazzle’s statue and let out a dreamy sigh. Her mind was adrift, floating in the warm, languorous memory of the previous night.

Alastor had kissed her.

She put her hand to her mouth, lips tingling from the memory. She’d almost believe it was a dream, if it wasn’t for the dull sting in her arms from how tightly he had gripped them. There was a possessiveness and desperation in the way he had held her, had kissed her. Like a starving animal that had finally trapped its prey, knowing that without this meal to sustain it, it would surely die. But there was a tenderness in that moment too. Lips quivering with self-control, pressed chastely against hers, not daring to push things too far. Long, jagged claws that she’s witness cause so much bloodshed, caressing her cheek with a gentle affection that had made her melt into his touch. Eyes soft and vulnerable, and so very trusting. For the first time, he had allowed someone to see beyond his smiling façade to what he actually wanted. And, by his own confession, he wanted her.

But what exactly did that mean?

He cared about her, that much was true. And seemed to want something more from her than just friendship and their business arrangement. But did he want to be with her? Up until last night, she was convinced he had zero interest in anything romantic. The man was all shadows. Everything about him, his past, his powers, his desires, the reason he came to the hotel in the first place, it was all still shrouded in mystery. And yet the moment between them had tugged a loose thread in that curtain, allowing the smallest sliver of light to filter through.

Charlie wanted to rip the entire curtain down, to see him completely. Every hidden facet, every dark, twisted corner, every bit of scarred surface he’s kept conceal behind his carefully crafted persona.

She’s daydreamed about it, more often that she’d like to admit, over the past few months. What it would be like if they were a couple. And now, these fragmented fantasies were so easy to piece together. Waking up next to him in bed every morning. His dress coat having a designated spot to hang in her closet. Spending late nights curled up in his lap while he listened to his music and she worked on her lesson plans. Sneaking kisses in empty hallways and behind closed doors before returning to their hotel duties. Hearing him call her my dear or darling, like he always does, but it sounding just a little bit different now.

But if they did become something more than business partners, how would that affect the hotel? Would her guests lose confidence in her, thinking she was just dating her way through her own staff? Word would get around all seven rings quickly enough too. The princess of hell dating the infamous radio demon. How would that be perceived? She didn’t care much about her own reputation, but she knew Alastor valued his.

And oh god… her father.

What would he do when he found out?

Charlie shook her head, knowing she was getting way ahead of herself. She needed to take this one coffee date at a time.

But still, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. He had asked her on a date!

As the princess hummed along to the tune in her heart, she sat on the banister and slid the last few steps down to the main floor. Lucifer was walking at the bottom of the stairs, and when she landed, she hooked her arm around his waist and waltzed with him around the lobby, causing him to drop the bundle of mail in his hands.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning!” he laughed as he enthusiastically joined in her dance.

“Today’s gonna be a great day!” she replied.

“Any particular reason why?”

“Oh, just a feeling!”

“Well, I have a hunch this great day is about to get even better.” Her father summoned the scattered mail into his hand and gave her a golden envelope. “This came for you.”

Charlie clapped excitedly. Finally, a message from heaven! Good news, she was sure, given how diligent she’s been about completing the sinner evaluation forms. They were probably so impressed with her hotel guests, they’ve been planning a way to expedite the redemption process. That must be why it’s taken them so long to get back to her. She couldn’t wait to see the proud look on Alastor’s face when she told him how all their hard work had finally paid off. Eagerly, she tore the letter out of the envelope to read it.

Dear Princess C. Morningstar,

After reviewing the initial evaluation forms for the residents of the Hazbin Hotel, we have deemed the following sinners eligible for redemption:

This eligibility is nonbinding and non-transferrable. It may be revoked at any time and for any reason by the heavenly powers that issued it.

Any sinners not listed above must immediately cease participation in the Hazbin Hotel’s rehabilitation program and be served a two-weeks’ (or less, at your discretion) notice of eviction.

Please note that all non-sanctioned methods of redemption will not be recognized. Any unapproved souls who attempt to enter heaven will be placed in a purgatorial holding cell until arrangements can be made for their return to hell.

Have a blessed day.

Sincerely,

The Angelic Council

Charlie flipped the letter over, then checked inside the envelope to see if there was a missing page. This couldn’t be right. Surely it was a misprint. They just forgot to add the list of names, is all! Maybe some angelic intern got their spreadsheets mixed up. There’s no way heaven would reject every single person at the hotel.

Her phone had been buzzing insistently in her pocket and she finally took it out. A flurry of missed calls flashed on the screen, all from Vaggie.

The princess’s horns erupted from her skull and she threw her head back, incinerating the letter in her hand.

“FUCK!”

The music crackling from Alastor’s phonograph was surprisingly pleasant, punctuated by only the occasional scream that could just as easily be an enthusiastic trumpet player or one of his past murder victims. He was humming along as he inspected his appearance in the mirror. His reflection flashed a toothy smile back at him, knuckle squeaking against bone as he polished a dull spot on one of his incisors. His eyes darted around his radio tower, making sure that no one was around to witness his preening. The only audience was his shadow, cocking its head back and forth as it curiously watched him from a forgotten corner of the room. It didn’t quite know what to make of the radio demon’s current behavior.

Alastor breathed hot air against his palm and sniffed it. His nose wrinkled, then he shrugged. With a cheery whistle, he dissolved into a black haze and disappeared.

The lights down the hallway flickered as he formlessly slinked along to Charlie’s bedroom. A smoky tendril slithered under the door, then retracted, and he materialized outside of the room. Best to do the gentlemanly thing and knock, he told himself, ignoring the nervous buzzing inside him that made his stomach feel like a beehive. He rapped a rhythm on her door.

“Oh Chaaaarlie,” he sang. “I’ve come to fetch you for our little outing.”

He gave it a moment, listening intently for any response from the other side of the door. He knocked again.

“Are you in there, darling?” he called out. Still met with silence, he leaned in closer. “It’s Alastor, by the way.”

Shadows engulfed his body once more and he slipped under the door. The radio demon tapped his chin inquisitively as he looked around the empty room. This was the time Charlie typically awoke. He must have just missed her. She was probably down in the kitchen helping Niffty with breakfast, as she tended to do most mornings.

The kitchen was bustling with people, but the princess wasn’t among them. Niffty was using Ted the lizard pervert as a step stool while she mangled the scrambled eggs on the stove. Not wanting to seem like the only reason he came down here was to inquire about Charlie’s whereabouts, Alastor moseyed up to the coffee pot and pretended to pour himself a cup.

“Niffty dear, have you seen Charlie?” he asked.

“Nope,” she replied sharply. “She totally bailed on me this morning and now I have to cook all these eggs by myself!” She gave a swift kick to Ted so he’d lift her higher.

“She’s been on the phone with Vaggie all morning,” Angel Dust mentioned as he grabbed his mug out of the cupboard. “I think she locked herself up in the study.”

The stove flame suddenly flared out of control, turning green as they engulfed the entire pan and caught Niffty’s hair on fire. With a screech, she hopped off Ted’s back and began running in circles in a frantic attempt to extinguish herself.

“Oh shit!” Angel grabbed a tea towel and dove after her. “Niffty, hold still!”

A harsh rush of static invaded Alastor’s brain, pushing so forcefully against the back of his eyeballs, they threatened to pop out of his skull. As the kitchen erupted into chaos, he stood there, eye twitching and the carafe of coffee shaking violently in his clenched fist. He flipped it over, dumping the hot liquid onto Niffty.

She sighed in relief and began petting her singed hair. “Thank you, sir!”

“Excuse me,” he said curtly before disappearing in a burst of similar green flames.

A few seconds later, he was standing in the middle of the study. His abrupt arrival had disturbed the nearby pile of papers, tossing them into the air like they were caught in a whirlwind. He snatched one as it floated back down and saw that it was a page from one of those evaluation forms that those imbeciles in heaven expected Charlie to complete. He glanced around at the messy stacks of paperwork, then noticed the half-finished mug of coffee sitting among them. Disappointment tugged at the corners of his smile.

“I’m so grateful for your help, Vaggie. What would this hotel do without you?”

Charlie hadn’t even noticed that Alastor was in the room. She was pacing back in forth in front of the fireplace with her cell phone glued to her ear. A familiar expression painted her face. One that, in recent months, he thought was reserved only for him. But he knew this time it was intended for someone else.

His nose was suddenly burning and he wondered if that mishap in the kitchen had singed his nose hairs. He angrily rubbed at it with the back of his hand. What a fool he’s been. He bled his heart for this woman and this is what he gets in return. For Charlie to abandon their plans together in favor of doing secretarial work with her ex-girlfriend.

He cleared his throat, glowering at the princess as she continued to ignore him. He did it again, quite obnoxiously, causing the lights in the room to dim for a moment. She looked around her, then her eyes landed on the radio demon and shot wide.

“Vaggie, I gotta go.” She shoved her phone into her pocket and rushed towards him. “Alastor! Thank hell, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Really? Seems you have much more pressing matters than burdening yourself with my company.” He jerked back from her touch when her hand extended towards him.

She looked confused, then the realization dawned on her. “Shit. Our date. Oh Al, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Clearly,” he retorted, unable to disguise the hurt in his voice.

Charlie motioned to the papers strewn across the room, then flopped down on the study loveseat. “I have so much to tell you. Where do I even begin? Heaven sent back the first batch of sinner evaluation forms. It’s only been… what, six months since I sent them?! And guess what those jerks did? They rejected every single one of our hotel guests! Sent me a letter saying they’re gonna kick out anyone they haven’t personally vetted. Can they even do that?! How can they just dictate something that they can’t even control?” Her voice warbled with emotion and she put her head in her hands. “After everything we’ve been through, after everyone’s hard work this past year, for heaven to just say that none of them are good enough? That’s total bullshit!”

Alastor watched as the princess rubbed her eyes, a few stray tears splattering against her pant leg. His anger tempered, replaced by a twinge of guilt at his own selfishness and overreaction. He sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let those fluffy-winged fools blow all the hot air they want about their bureaucratic nonsense. They can’t stop us from what we’re doing here.”

“Actually, they can. They said any sinner who isn’t on their approved list, which is literally everyone, can’t stay at the hotel anymore.”

He tutted his tongue. “Well, we certainly can’t run a hotel without any hotel guests. But don’t fret, darling. Policies like that always have loopholes. We could create a fake bed and breakfast and funnel all our guests through that. A soul laundering scheme, if you will.”

She chuckled at his absurd suggestion, wiping at the dried tears on her face. “Vaggie arranged a meeting with the angelic council so I can plead our case. I’m heading there later today.”

“Oh.” He snatched his hand from her shoulder, unable to stop the new wave of negative emotions that rose up inside him at the mention of her former companion. A knot twisted in his gut as those feelings conflicted with the urge he had to comfort her. “I’m sure the two you will sort things out,” he said flatly as he rose to leave.

Charlie suddenly grasped his arm with both hands, pulling him back down. “Will you come with me?”

Alastor blinked at her, then let out a sharp cackle. “Is that a joke? You want me to accompany you to heaven?”

She nodded. “I could really use your support.”

“My dearest, I’ve flattered you’d ask, but surely there are better options here.” He motioned vaguely around them. “Like the dozens of folks in this hotel who actually want to go there. What about our spider friend? Or the cheerleader? Hell, put a muzzle on that lizard fellow and he’ll behave himself long enough.”

“We run this place together. I think it’s important we stand as a united front before the angelic council. There’s value in them seeing someone who supports the hotel without having an ulterior motive to get into heaven themselves. It shows that sinners can be…” She rocked her head side-to-side as she thought of an appropriate word. “Altruistic!”

“Altruistic,” the radio demon muttered to himself.

“Please, Alastor.” She took his hands in hers. “You always support me, in a way no one else ever has. That’s what I lo-” She paused, biting her lip. “T-That’s what I’ve always appreciated about you. We’re a team! I can’t do this without you.” She brushed her thumbs over his knuckles. “And maybe after we fix this mess, we could spend some time up there together. Just you and me. Heaven really is quite nice. I’m sure there are parts of it even you’ll like!”

He doubted that. Nothing about all that divine fluff and stuff enticed him, and there were quite a few people up there he did NOT want to run into. Nonetheless, his desire to help Charlie outweighed any of those trepidations. A resigned sigh buzzed in his chest. He just wanted to get coffee. He didn’t expect to have to work this hard for that.

“What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t support you.” Alastor caught himself. “B-Business partner, that is. Alright, Charlie, I’ll come with you.” His grin widened. “Let’s remind those holy horn-tooting bastards not to fuck with our hotel.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

“So are we all getting evicted?”

“I’m gonna get redeemed just so I can go up there and choke those self-righteous assholes with their own stupid halos!”

“Welp. This was nice while it lasted.”

The hotel residents were in an uproar after being told the bad news. Charlie was trying to calm them down, but their distressed chatter was so loud that no one heard her. She and Alastor had gathered everyone in the lobby to inform them of what was going on. Panic had quickly swept across them like locusts devouring a corn field.

“No one’s getting evicted, I promise!” the princess shouted over the noise, but they didn’t hear her. She looked desperately to the radio demon for help.

“I told you to wait until we returned to mention anything to them,” he mumbled to her.

“Transparency is important!” she whispered back. “I’d rather they hear it from us than let the rumor mill spiral out of control while we’re gone.”

He tapped his cane on the floor, causing a swell of feedback to fill the room. “Rest assured that none of you will end up homeless, as entertaining as that would be to see.” Both his words and magic also went ignored. He turned to Charlie and shrugged.

Angel Dust, who was one of the only hotel guests remaining calm, stood up on the coffee table. “Everybody shut up! Mom and dad want our attention.”

Charlie felt her cheeks flush and heard some kind of cervid squeak come out of Alastor. They exchanged glances, then quickly snapped their attention back to the group of sinners.

“Err, t-thanks Angel,” she stammered. “Listen, everyone. I know you’re upset. I know you have a lot of questions. I feel the same way. Alastor and I are going to heaven to make this right. And no matter what happens, no matter what heaven says, that doesn’t change the fact that you all have put in a lot of hard work to become better people.” She clutched her hands to her heart. “And I’m so proud of each and every one of you. We both are!”

She looked expectantly to Alastor and nodded towards the group, silently telling him to offer his own encouragement.

“Yes, yes, very proud,” he agreed, completely deadpanned. “Gold stars for you all.”

“I don’t want any of you to worry while we’re gone,” she continued. “In fact, consider this a day off! Relax, unwind, maybe do some self-care. Heather offered to give mani-pedis to anyone who wants them.”

Heather the cheerleader killer jiggled the box of nail polish on her lap. “I’m not touching Ted’s gross lizard feet.”

Charlie gestured to the large bedsheet that was taped to the wall in the lounge area. “We also set up a projector for a fun movie night!” She pointed an accusing finger at Angel. “And yes, the parental lock is still on the TV.”

Angel shrugged. “Not much of a good porn selection anyways since you canceled our Voxflix subscription.”

“And I’ll leave the hotel credit card with Husk so you all can order pizza!”

“Free pizza. Definitely just as good as a redeemed soul,” Husk grumbled.

“Don’t burn the place down while we’re gone,” Alastor added. “Wait until I come back, at least.”

A short while later, Charlie was nervously pacing in front of the lobby staircase, checking the clock on the wall every few seconds as she waited for it to strike the hour. The portal to heaven would be opening any moment now. Her breath caught in her throat as a golden spiral began materializing before her, then she exhaled when she saw it was just her father.

“Oh good! I caught you before you left. I wanted to see you off.” Lucifer brushed the lingering sparkles off his jacket. His smile quickly fell when he spotted Alastor leaning against the banister, twirling his cane out of boredom. He took his daughter’s arm and pulled her aside. “Are you sure bringing him with you is such a good idea?”

She sighed in exasperation. “Yes dad, I’m sure.”

“I could get you one of those kiddie leash backpacks for him. We sell them at Lu Lu World. Would only take a second for me to pop over there and grab you one.” He tapped his chin. “Or maybe I could drop down to Gluttony and get you a muzzle from one of the dog pounds. At the very least, you should put a tracker on him. That way if he goes feral and scampers off, the angels can send someone after him and put him down.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Alastor called from behind them.

Lucifer whipped around and stomped over to him. “You listen up. I can smite your ass into next Tuesday, easy peasy. And there are people up there who can smite my ass into next Friday. Which means that they can smite your ass into-” He counted on his fingers. “Two Mondays from now. Is that right? My point is don’t even think about trying anything when you’re up there.” He jabbed his finger hard into the radio demon’s chest. “It won’t end well for you.”

Alastor slapped the king’s hand away like he was swatting a pesky bug. “As tempting as it is to ruffle some angelic feathers, I don’t have a second death wish,” he spat back.

Lucifer’s expression darkened. “If you fuck this up for Charlie, you’ll be begging for the mercy of death when I’m through with you.”

“Enough!” Charlie put her hands on both men’s chests and pushed them away from each other. She shot a steely glare at her father. “Alastor’s never let me down before, dad. I know he won’t now, not for something as important as this.”

Lucifer looked down at where her hand had fallen from his chest, then up to where the other one was still nestled, a bit too comfortably, against Alastor’s. The worry lines deepened on his forehead.

“For all our sakes, I hope you’re right. Anyways, good luck, kiddo. Try not to start another war, okay?” He threw one last daggered look at the radio demon. “Oh, and maybe consider wearing something that doesn’t look like you belong in some deranged barbershop quartet made of murderers. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb up there.” With that, he disappeared into another portal.

Alastor rubbed the spot on his chest where he’d been poked. “I think he’s beginning to like me!”

“He does have a point,” the princess mused. “Maybe we could de-demonize our appearances a bit. It’ll make us look more professional, more approachable.”

He smoothed down the wrinkles on his lapels. “What’s wrong with my attire? I think I’m quite the dapper dresser.”

“Of course you are! But maybe something a little less radio demon-y would make a better first impression.”

Charlie stuck out her index finger, swooping it through the air like a magic wand. Gold and red sparkles cascaded down on her, transforming her red pantsuit into a long flowy skirt and modest blouse. The soft shades of cream and mauve were ideal for heaven and she did a little spin to show off the outfit to Alastor, hoping he’d follow her example.

He looked her up and down, bringing his hand to his mouth to hide how his smile twitched with intrigue. With an indifferent hum, he snapped his fingers, transforming his red suit into his go-to fancy tuxedo.

She pursed her lips. “That’s a bit too formal. And red.”

He hummed again, a little more tersely. With another snap, he was dressed in an identical pinstriped white suit to her father’s.

“Very funny, Al.”

His grin curled mischievously. “I know just the outfit to impress those holy rollers!” The suit darkened to black and weaved itself together into a long dress, turning into a nun’s habit.

“N-No! Definitely not!” Charlie could feel her cheeks burning. She didn’t remember the fabric clinging so tightly to the sharp angle of his hips the last time he wore that getup. “Can I?” She flourished her fingers, magic glittering between them.

Alastor extended his arms like he was being measured by a tailor. “Mind the inseam, won’t you?” She worked her magic, and after the last few golden sparks fizzled away, they revealed a pair of well-pressed trousers with a matching striped waistcoat. The outfit was in the same shade of mauve as her skirt. He tugged on the starchy sleeves of the white dress shirt that completed the ensemble.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“A bit too pastel for my liking, but I suppose if this is the style in heaven, I’m not completely offended by it.” He glanced at his reflection in a nearby window and began fiddling with his bowtie.

Charlie stepped closer. Wordlessly understanding her intention, Alastor put his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. She thumbed either side of his bowtie and straightened it, watching as the muscles in his neck slowly flexed.

“I think you look very handsome,” she said softly. Her fingers smoothed down the placket of his dress shirt.

“Well, you have impeccable taste,” he murmured. His hands rose to gently grasp her shoulders. Brushing past the poof of her sleeves, his fingers trailed down her bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps where they grazed, before cupping her elbows.

She looked up into his eyes. “I really am sorry about our coffee date. I know we have a lot to talk about. Not related to the hotel, I mean.”

Alastor’s grin quirked on one side. “There’s always tomorrow, my dearest.”

Charlie nodded. “There certainly is.”

She watched as the radio demon’s eyes flitted down to her lips, then back up to meet hers. He shuffled closer, head tilting as he silently studied her. She didn’t break her gaze and felt her eyes flutter as he cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over the pink marking there. She rose to the tips of her hooves and craned her neck up towards him. A few errant strands of red hair tickled her face as he leaned down to meet her halfway…

Then a burst of gold light blinded them both and they pulled apart, shielding their eyes. Charlie squinted at the heavenly portal that was swirling in front of them.

“Looks like our ride’s here!"

The grin stretched wide on Alastor’s face greatly contrasted the annoyance in his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Text

Alastor dipped a hoof out of the portal and tapped it on the ground. His boot sank into the soft, cushiony clouds and he hesitantly took his first step, still not trusting that he wouldn’t plummet back down to hell the moment he had two feet on sacred land. Charlie had run ahead of him and was conversing with some blond fellow stationed at heaven’s pearly gates. Saint Peter, he presumed, remembering the bible stories he read as a child. Though the designer robes and perfectly coifed hair were left out of the apostle’s religious depictions.

As the radio demon caught up with the pair, Peter stopped mid-sentence and gave him a once-over. His lips pursed with fascination. “And who’s this tall glass of strawberry milk you brought with you?”

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up to his ears. “I beg your pardon?”

“This is Alastor!” Charlie interjected, linking her arm with her companion’s. “He’s my business partner at the hotel. I hope it’s okay I brought him along.”

“So he’s a sinner? Oo, how exotic!” Peter licked the tip of the feather pen in his hand and scribbled in his book. “Let me just make note of that in our manifest. Princess Morningstar aaaand a plus one! Okedokey! You two are all set. Your hosts are waiting for you at the SinNoMo Center.”

“Sin… No… Mo?” Alastor repeated slowly.

Peter nodded. “It’s our hub for all things redemption! Or at least it will be if any more sinners get redeemed.”

“When more sinners get redeemed,” Charlie corrected.

He smiled politely. “Uh huh, sure! Anyways, make a left at the cherub fountain and it’s two blocks down. You can’t miss it. The building is very red and very vacant!”

The heavenly gates rang out a deep, metallic chime as they swung open. Alastor followed Charlie inside. Peter winked at him as he walked by and he stopped in his tracks, twisting his neck around and distorting his face in a demonic grimace. The apostle squeaked in horror and cowered behind his podium.

It’s been so long since the radio demon experienced anything other than a red-tinged sky, it took his eyes a moment to adjust to how bright heaven was. He put a hand to his brow and looked up at the creamy clouds that lazily drifted across the golden sky.

The architecture was just as disorienting, as it couldn’t seem to make up its mind on what century it was from. Ancient Roman columns, intricate Renaissance masonry, and sleek modern skyscrapers all melded together, like a child mixing all their favorite ice cream flavors into an unrecognizable slop.

Charlie was still clinging to his arm, eyes alit with wonder as she took in her surroundings. Every so often she’d tug on his sleeve and point at something – a gelato shop, a flower arrangement of some important archangel, a gold-trimmed garbage can, some guy with a terrifying head made of several rotating rings of unblinking eyeballs. Each time he feigned interest and nodded along to her commentary.

“So what do you think of heaven?” she asked.

Alastor looked down at the marble walkway beneath them, so perfectly polished that he could see his reflection, like a splatter of blood against the unsullied stone. “I certainly commend their streetcleaners,” he replied.

They no sooner passed the cherub fountain when he felt someone tug on his pant leg. Looking down, he was greeted with a pair of unnaturally large eyes that belonged to a small child. The child was wearing nothing but a diaper and a bowtie, and Alastor found this far more unsettling that any of the children he had encountered in Cannibal Town.

“Hey mister!” the child squawked at him. “You have big ears. Can I touch them?” He started hopping up and down as he made grabby hands.

It seemed children lacked manners even in heaven. Alastor’s smile curled into a cold sneer. “I’m going to chomp off your fat little fingers like they’re Vienna sausages.” He snapped his teeth, causing the child to scurry off in terror.

Charlie snickered and he spared her a glance, expecting a lecture for his behavior. Instead, she looked thoroughly amused, and leaned against his shoulder before playfully flicking one of his ears.

“I like your big ears,” she flirted.

Both his ears twitched at the compliment. But before he could think of something charming to say in return, she broke away from him.

“Vaggie!”

Charlie jogged the last few meters towards the SinNoMo Center and the familiar silver-haired angel who was standing outside its doors. When she threw her arms around Vaggie, Alastor couldn’t help the growl that rumbled deep in his throat.

“Holy shit, it’s so good to see you!”

Vaggie returned the hug, looking genuinely happy to see her ex-girlfriend. “You too, Charlie.”

The two ladies chatted for a moment, complimenting each other’s choice of attire, catching up on the goings-on of their mutual acquaintances, sharing sentiment about the dour reason for their reunion. Alastor was half paying attention to their conversation, as he was fixated on the casual embrace in which the pair still held each other. He feigned a cough, and when Vaggie finally noticed him, his smile strained in annoyance.

“Alastor?” She looked him up and down, as surprised at his heavenly getup as she was at seeing him in the first place. Her brow furrowed with concern as she turned back to the princess. “I didn’t realize you were bringing him with you.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” he answered first. Nudging himself between the two, he slung his arm around Charlie’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “I’ve always been Charlie’s most staunch supporter and my responsibilities at the hotel have increased significantly since your departure. But this goes beyond my duty as her business partner. I have a genuine desire to see our dear sweet princess achieve her dreams.”

Charlie blushed and put a hand to her chest. “Aww, Al…”

Vaggie’s unamused expression was something he had not missed. “Yeah, I don’t believe that bullshit for a second,” she said.

Alastor glared challengingly at the angel. He knew Vaggie never liked him, not from the moment he first stepped foot inside the hotel. The feeling was mutual. She was judgmental, quick-to-temper, and just all around no fun at all.

The hotel was a stage and Charlie was its star performer, eager to belt out the song that was in her heart. Even before Alastor’s feelings for her became romantic in nature, this was something that greatly endeared her to him. His own encouragement of this behavior, while admittedly had sometimes been to his own gains, never lacked an earnest joy from seeing her performance.

But Vaggie, this was a trait she openly admonished, under a guise of protectiveness and having the princess’s best interests at heart. She had always been waiting in the wings, ready to give Charlie the hook.

Alastor would never silence Charlie’s song. He’d broadcast her for all of hell, heaven, and everyone in between to hear. And if no one cared to listen, he’d broadcast her just for himself. Never would he let her be without an audience.

Needless to say, he was thrilled when Vaggie returned to heaven. She had been the biggest obstacle in his way of getting close to Charlie. Even back then, he supposed there was an underlying jealousy there. No matter how unsupportive and unenthusiastic Vaggie was, and no matter how loyal and eager to help he acted by contrast, Charlie still always chose her.

But things were different now. In Vaggie’s absence, the princess had come to rely on him. She trusted him. She needed him. She wanted him. A short stint in heaven wouldn’t change any of that. Yet as Alastor watched her converse with the angel who held her affections for much longer that he has, he felt a cold fear creep into his bones at how easy it was for them to fall back into their old rhythm.

As he continued his attempts to turn Vaggie to stone with his deathly glare, someone else burst out from the SinNoMo Center doors.

“Charlie, you’re here!”

The woman scooped her into a hug like they were long-lost sisters. She was an angel, with silver hair that matched her wings and dark freckled skin. Her poofy lilac dress floated just above the ground, as if magically protecting itself from getting dirty.

“Emily! Hi!” Charlie responded with equal enthusiasm. They pulled apart and held each other’s hands, both bouncing with excitement.

“I’m thrilled you’re back! I wish it was under better circumstances, but I’m still so happy to see you again!” Emily turned towards Alastor and her eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh! You must be Stereo Damien! Vaggie’s told me so much about you!” She stepped towards him, arms outstretched.

Alastor summoned his cane and pressed it gently against her sternum to stop her from hugging him. “What did you call me?”

Vaggie put her hands on Emily’s shoulder and pulled her away from him. “He’s the radio demon, Em.”

“Oh, sorry about that!” She extended her hand instead. “It’s very nice to meet you, Damien the radio demon!”

Charlie laughed. “His name is Alastor, actually.”

“Got it. Alastor the radio demon!” She smiled at him and wiggled her hand, still expecting a handshake.

Alastor plopped the microphone end of his cane into her palm. “The pleasure’s mine, dear,” he drawled.

“I take it Peter told you about the SinNoMo Center. Isn’t it great?!” Emily gestured towards the building. “Our meeting with the angelic council isn’t for a few hours. How about a tour?” Charlie eagerly followed her inside. Alastor went after, conveniently forgetting to hold the door for Vaggie, who was behind him. His grin curled wickedly when he heard the door slam, then her cursing from the other side.

The inside of the sinner center was sparsely furnished, save for a few bean bag chairs, a dusty old computer set up on a cardboard box, and a foosball table that was missing an entire rod of little kickers. The radio demon could see Charlie’s expression strain with forced politeness.

“This place… umm…” She stumbled over her words as she searched for something positive to say. “It sure does have potential!”

He kicked at one of the beanbag chairs, causing some of the filling to fall out of its frayed seam. “I assumed eternal paradise would at least afford you some decent furniture.”

“We’re working on it,” Vaggie said, scowling at his comment. “It was difficult enough to get the angelic council to agree to give us this space.”

Emily hooked her arm with Vaggie’s, who softened at the gesture. “You should have seen the mean-mugging Vaggie did that finally convinced them!”

Charlie smiled. “Good to know that works on folks up here too.” She surveyed the room and put her hands on her hips, nodding determinedly. “The hotel needed some TLC when we first got started. I’m sure we can give this place the same treatment.”

“Actually…” Alastor slid smoothly to her side. “The hotel was quit the mess of broken boards and rusty nails until yours truly worked his magic. I suppose I could do the same up here.” He winked at her. “For your sake, Charlie darling.” Raising his hand, he prepared to snap his fingers.

“Don’t.” Vaggie grabbed his wrist and lowered it. “The last thing we need is for this place to reek of your creepy shadow magic.”

He yanked his arm out of her grasp and made a dramatic display of wiping it on his pant leg.

“Vaggie’s right, Alastor,” the princess agreed. “Besides, this could be a fun DIY project once some more of our hotel guests make it up here. It’ll be a great way to prove to heaven that they can be contributing members of society!”

Alastor let out a disgruntled “hmph”. “Fine. Enjoy the bed bugs and dislocated spinal discs you’ll receive from sitting on furniture you’ve pulled out of a dumpster.”

“We don’t have bed bugs in heaven,” Vaggie snapped back. “Unless you brought them here.”

“Who’s hungry?!” Emily interrupted cheerily. Either she was oblivious to the tension in the room or had perfected the art of subtle mediation. She gave Vaggie a look and Alastor cocked an eyebrow, curious at this non-verbal exchange between the pair.

Vaggie let out a calming exhale through her nose, then her demeanor shifted. “There’s this pretty good tapas place around the corner. Do you guys like tapas?”

“No.” Alastor crossed his arms stubbornly. “Whatever that is, I hate it.”

Charlie nudged him in the ribs, her face scrunching in disapproval. She turned towards Vaggie and smiled brightly. “I could eat!”

As the group headed outside, the princess fell into step next to Alastor. “Will you please behave yourself?” she whispered.

He scoffed. “My dearest, I’ve been nothing but charming this entire time.”

She gave him another look, her silence saying more than any reprimand ever could.

“This place is insufferable,” he hissed. “And I don’t belong here. Frankly, I can’t fathom why anyone would want to stay in this phony fool’s-gold-gilded fever dream.”

“Please Alastor,” she pleaded. “I know you and Vaggie never really saw eye-to-eye.”

“Understatement of the millennia,” he muttered.

“But we’re all on the same team here. And when we’re in front of the angelic council, we need to show them that. There’s so much at stake. The work we’re doing, all our friends, the hotel itself. And if you’re not gonna do it for all that, then do it for me?” She stared up at him with those sparkly eyes of hers that made his insides fizzle like soda pop.

His smile softened. “Oh, Charlie. I lost the ability to say no to you quite some time ago. Why else do you think I’m here? Because I fancied myself some sky-high vacation?”

She patted his cheek affectionately. “Save that smooth talk for the angelic council. Maybe it’ll work on them as well as it works on me.”

Impractical furniture seemed to be a trend up here in heaven.

Alastor was perched uncomfortably on a tiny stool shaped like a stack of donuts. His long limbs were forcibly folded against his body like he was some kind of contortionist. Every time he tried to stretch his legs, he ended up bashing them against the underside of the table. And to make matters worse, donuts weren’t even on this restaurant’s menu!

As he shifted in his seat, his knee knocked against the edge of table again and he hissed in pain.

Charlie put her hands down on the wobbling table to steady it. “Are you okay?”

“Would it kill this place to accommodate their more vertically-endowed patrons?” he grumbled.

She chuckled lightly and scooted her stool closer to him. “Here.” Her hand slid under the crook of his knees, then she pulled his legs over her lap, giving him more space to stretch out. “Better?”

Alastor hummed in relief as the cramp in his calf began to dull. “Very much so. Thank you, darling.”

He could sense Vaggie’s eyes on them, and glanced across the table to see her staring at them with a mix of confusion and disgust, her mouth agape. He slapped on his smuggest smile.

“You’ll catch flies with that trout mouth, dear.”

Vaggie ignored his comment and instead turned to Charlie. “Pentious says hi, by the way. He’s sorry he’s not able to do so in person.”

“Giving the current situation, we thought it would be best if he laid low for a while,” Emily explained. “We don’t want to give the angelic council any reason to kick him out.”

Charlie frowned. “Is Pentious at risk of being sent back to hell because of these new rules they’re trying to enforce?”

Emily shook her head. “We were at least able to convince the council that it would be unjust to do so, given he ascended to heaven before these new policies were drafted. But they’ve still been scrutinizing his actions more than necessary.”

“It’s so unfair!” The hair that framed Charlie’s face flared out as her frustration spiked. “None of us understand how redemption works. If a soul earns its place in heaven, those jerks on the council shouldn’t have the right to deny them entry!”

“Perhaps they’re worried the overpopulation issue will just repeat itself here,” Alastor suggested.

“That’s never really been a problem for us. We have our own population control methods,” Emily explained.

“You do?” Charlie asked. “How does that work up here?”

Alastor leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Well, well. This place just got much more interesting.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like the exterminations. Not so… umm… violent or involuntary. When a soul feels ready to move on, they just peacefully go.”

“To where, exactly?” he questioned.

“That from which they came.” Emily gestured around them. “They become part of the essence of heaven itself, the positive energy that flows through everything up here.”

The radio demon rolled his eyes. “How poetic. I suppose your eternal paradise really isn’t all that eternal, not if folks can check out once they get sick of this place.”

“I see it more like them being at peace with what their existence has contributed to the world.”

“I think that’s a wonderful way to go out,” Charlie remarked. “On your own terms and becoming part of something bigger than yourself.”

Alastor hummed in half-hearted agreement. “It does sound better than being brutally murdered by a horde of sadistic she-warriors.” He sneered at Vaggie. “No offense, dear.”

The group began discussing their plans for the upcoming meeting. Emily would be seated among the other seraphim, but Vaggie had been permitted to speak on behalf of the hotel. While Alastor wasn’t keen on letting her be the one to support Charlie, he was even less eager to speak with the angelic council himself. Perhaps he was a little offended that Vaggie suggested he not say anything at all, but he supposed standing beside Charlie as moral support was better than being banished to the waiting room. Besides, actions spoke louder than words, and he bet a few well-timed death glares would do wonders for their case.

“No matter what happens, we’ve got your back, Charlie,” Vaggie assured her.

Emily took Vaggie’s hands, causing the radio demon to arch another eyebrow at them. “We won’t stop fighting!”

Charlie smiled. “At least we’ll always have you two as our allies up here. I’m so glad you have each other to lean on through all this.”

The gears finally clicked together in Alastor’s brain. “Wait, are you two together?” He waggled a finger between them. “In a romantic fashion?”

Vaggie scowled at him. “Is that a problem?” she snapped heatedly.

Grin stretching wide, he burst into laughter. “No! Not at all! Why, I think it’s fantastic!” He jumped up from his seat and hurried around the table. As he continued laughing, he yanked both women into a tight hug. “Vaggie dear, I’ve never been happier for you! Emily here is such a lovely gal. You two are a match made in heaven. Quite literally!”

“Uhh… thanks, Alastor?” Vaggie rubbed her arm where he had squeezed her as she watched him skip happily back to his seat.

“Now where’s that waiter with our food?” he said, his voice a cheerful melody. “I’m starved!”

Alastor’s improved mood didn’t last long, as he soon found himself staring down at the most offensive plate of shrimp cocktail he had ever seen. Though calling it a plate was grossly inaccurate. It was served to him in a tiny canoe.

Charlie, however, was absolutely entranced by it. “Aww, that’s cute! It’s like they’re rowing the boat!”

“What’s the goal here? To make me believe these shrimp have the mental capacity and motor skills to paddle a canoe? Is that supposed to make me feel guilty about eating them?” He squeezed the tail off of one and popped it into his mouth. “Hmph. They failed on that account. I don’t feel guilty at all.”

The princess watched him for a few moments with an amused smile. He had no intentions of sharing his meal (so he had decided upon finding out what “tapas” meant), but nonetheless deshelled a shrimp and offered it to her. Instead of taking it with her hand, she leaned closer and bit into it, her lips grazing against his fingertips as she sucked it into her mouth.

Alastor made a sound like a squeaky clarinet. His eyes widened in delight and he was quick to prepare another one for her. This time, he brought it directly to her lips. She opened her mouth, corners curled in a mischievously smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. She closed it around his fingers, tongue pressing against the pad of his thumb before she pulled away.

“Tasty!” She cut off a piece of whatever was on her plate. “Would you like to try mine?”

“Y-Yes!” he answered instantly, the static thick in his voice. He had no clue what Charlie was offering him, but he eagerly opened wide as she brought her fork to his mouth. He bit down hard on the metal, enjoying how she had to wriggle it free from between his teeth.

“What the fuck…”

The remark had come from Vaggie, whose looked utterly repulsed at what she just witnessed. She placed down her fork as if she had lost her appetite. “Can we talk, Charlie?” Her eyes darted to the radio demon. “In private?”

“Of course, Vaggie!” Charlie responded. Vaggie nodded towards the door and the pair rose from their seats.

“If it’s about the hotel, then I should be a part of the conversation as well.” Alastor bolted up to follow them.

Charlie put a hand against his chest to stop him. “It’s okay, Al. We’ll be right back.”

He let out an exasperated huff and plopped back down on his stool, craning his neck as he watched them step outside and disappear from his view through the window.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and the radio demon became more and more restless. His leg was bouncing, thumping against the table each time his knee made contact with it. He had been pushing his empty shrimp canoe along an imaginary river until the waiter came to bus their table and took it away. Glancing over, he saw that Emily was completely unfazed. She was sipping her drink and bopping her head to the upbeat music playing in the restaurant.

“You’re surprisingly calm, given the circumstances,” he said to her.

She smiled and nodded. “I have to believe things will work out in the end, no matter what happens in the meeting today.”

“I’m referring to Charlie and Vaggie. Surely it bothers you that they’re spending time together. Alone. Given their history.”

“Oh, of course not! I think it’s wonderful!”

His eyes narrowed skeptically. “You’re not worried those old flames will be reignited?”

“No, not at all! I know Vaggie loves Charlie, but it’s a different kind of love now. And I love Vaggie too, which means I trust her. You love Charlie, don’t you trust her as well?”

Alastor’s eyes shot wide into radio dials and he fell out of his seat. The screech of static he emitted short-circuited the restaurant’s speakers, causing the music to cut out. He scrambled back onto his stool and straightened his disheveled waist coat.

“Haha! Well, that’s… t-that’s PREPOSTEROUS…. w-wha… what makes you think I… I lo-” He choked on his own spit, feeling like his tongue had tied itself into a knot and slingshotted into the back of his throat. “T-That I love Charlie?!”

“The way you look at her, of course,” Emily replied matter-of-factly. “I’m an angel. We’re kind of experts on these things.”

He lunged for his drink and finished it in one gulp. “Well dear, perhaps those skills require some fine-tuning because you’re just flat out wrong! Am I fond of Charlie? Of course, she’s quite delightful. Has that fondness developed into something deeper? Well, I suppose I-”

He stopped. Why in the name of all seven rings of hell was he rambling about his feelings for Charlie to this random angel? There was an untouched glass of wine on the table next to them and he snatched it for himself. It struggled down his throat and his eye twitched from the overly tangy taste.

Emily looked concerned. “Umm… I think that was marinara sauce.”

He looked down at the glass. “I thought it was a very thick and acidic wine. For Pete’s sake, don’t they serve anything here in the appropriate dishware?!”

“Gosh, Mr. Alastor. I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to assume that you and Charlie were a couple.”

The not-wine-but-actually-marinara-sauce rose back up his throat and he nearly upchucked it. “Y-You thought we were a WHAT now?”

Alastor had been so hung up on their botched coffee date and making it through this heavenly detour that he hadn’t really thought about what would happen afterwards. Now that he and Charlie had made their feelings known to each other, how would their relationship change?

A couple.

Is that what Charlie want to be?

Moreover, is that what he wanted to be?

Alastor had dated his fair share of women as a young man. If you consider a few hours of dancing, a polite peck on the cheek, then never speaking to the gal again to be a date. His mother had tried so earnestly to find him someone. Maybe he had agreed to her matchmaking to appease her, or maybe it had been an easy way to keep up appearances when he started filling his free time with more nefarious hobbies.

He had zero interest in matters of the heart. They were burdensome, a waste of time, and the idea of allowing himself to be that vulnerable with someone, for them to know every facet of his life, made his skin crawl. Alastor had always been a vacationer in other people’s lives. He stopped by when it was convenient for him and never stayed too long. When he was alive, he had plenty of friends, but none he ever felt a particular kinship with. His chummy nature was a magnet for good company, but he was content with keeping these friendships confined to the dance floors, speakeasies, and radio stations from which they emerged. The only person he ever felt a true closeness with was his mother, and even she was held at arm’s length when he realized the life he had created for himself would be one of solitude.

In his afterlife, he was unburdened by societal expectations and his circle of friends became even smaller. Mimzi had the advantage of knowing him when he was alive. Rosie was trustworthy but she knew better than to pry too far into his personal life. His fellow overlords could best be labeled as business associates. The guests at the hotel were like a zoo exhibit to him. And Niffty was… well, Niffty.

But Charlie…

Charlie had taken up residence in his heart and he had allowed her to build a palace there.

And all those ridiculous, repugnant, romantic things he never thought he’d want for himself? He realized he did want them. With her.

Maybe being a couple wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, he was beginning to think it was a mighty fine idea.

So lost in his own thoughts, he forgot that Emily was still sitting across from him. He cleared his throat. “So, ah, do you like jazz?”

Her face darkened and she leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth so only he could hear her. “You mean the devil’s music?” she whispered.

“What the hell is going on with Alastor?”

Vaggie had dragged Charlie into the alleyway next to the restaurant so they could talk. She kept peeking over her shoulder, as if expecting the aforementioned demon to appear at any moment.

“He’s been acting really strange,” she continued. “Well, stranger than normal for him.”

“You know how he can be,” Charlie replied. “Heaven is outside his comfort zone so he’s been a bit more… Alastor-y than usual. He’ll pull himself together for the meeting.”

Vaggie looked unconvinced. “I don’t think it was a good idea to bring him with you. He’s clearly not taking any of this seriously and is just going to make things worse for us.”

“Alastor’s done nothing but support me since you left.” Heat rose in Charlie’s voice as she quickly jumped to the radio demon’s defense. “I trust him, Vaggie. I know he’ll never do anything to purposely sabotage the hotel.”

“He’s never care about the hotel. It’s just one big joke to him. He said so himself!”

The princess firmly shook her head. “Maybe that was true at the beginning, but so much has changed since then. For fuck’s sake, he nearly died protecting the place!” She clutched her hands to her chest. “At the very least, I know he cares about me.”

“Charlie…” Vaggie sighed in exasperation. “I know you like to see the best in people. I’ve always admired that about you. But the only think that asshole cares about is getting his jollies off to the misfortune of others.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t get why you’re defending him so much. You know how sketchy he can be!”

“He kissed me, Vaggie!”

Vaggie’s expression went completely blank. The princess could practically hear the cogs in her mind grinding to a halt. “I’m sorry. It sounded like someone just blasted an air horn in my face. Did you just say Alastor KISSED you?!”

Charlie nodded sheepishly. “And I… umm… kind of kissed him back.”

The angel gaped at her, her jaw dropping like someone had tied an anvil to it.

“Then he asked me on a date and I said yes.”

One of Vaggie’s eyes started twitching. The stretch of silence that passed between them felt like an eternity.

“Vaggie, please say something.”

She finally snapped back to her senses and shook her head. “What the hell’s been going on there the last six months?!”

Charlie rubbed her neck. “You… uhh… missed a lot. The hotel’s nearly at full capacity now, there was this whole thing with that creep Vox from VoxTek, and Alastor and I…”

Vaggie put her hands up. “Spare me the details.”

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“Oh, Charlie.” Her expression softened. “Of course not. I just want the hotel to succeed. More importantly, I want you to be happy. If Alastor somehow manages to do both of these things, then of course you have my blessing. Just please be careful. Even if he says he’s staying at the hotel now for your sake, he obviously came there for different reasons.”

A sense of unease coiled itself around Charlie's insides. “I know.”

“What’s taking them so long?”

Charlie was pacing back and forth in front of heaven’s courthouse. She kept placing her ear against the heavy golden doors, listening for anyone approaching from the other side. Vaggie and Emily had been summoned for some kind of “angels only” preliminary meeting, leaving herself and Alastor to wait outside.

“Those bureaucratic types do this on purpose. It’s all part of the mind games they like to play,” Alastor told her. He was lounging on the marble steps and whistling to himself as he scratched his cane against the unblemished stone. She realized he was attempting to carve his name in it.

She clutched her stomach as she continued her nervous pacing. “Eughhh. I’m so nervous, I feel like I’m gonna barf.”

He pointed with his cane at the fountain where a group of cherubs were playing. “Kindly so do over yonder if you do decide to vomit.”

The princess rolled her eyes at his suggestion. At least she was right about Alastor pulling himself together before the meeting. His mood had significantly improved since they left the restaurant.

“You have no reason to be nervous, my dearest,” he assured her. “I’ve never known you to fail when your heart is set on something.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest. She wondered if he realized how good he was at telling her exactly what she needed to hear, exactly when she needed to hear it. “Thanks, Alastor.”

Clouds were rolling in overhead and she let out an annoyed huff. Just great. Now they had to wait outside in the rain. She held out her hand to feel the first drop and recoiled when it burned her skin. The small awning that covered the door offered little coverage as she positioned herself under it.

“I didn’t know heaven had acid rain too,” Charlie remarked as she rubbed the burn mark on her hand.

Alastor stood up and watched as the cherubs began happily hopping around in the puddles forming. He looked down at the rain sizzling off his own hand. “Holy water,” he mused.

A quick twirl between his fingers transformed his cane into an umbrella, billowing opening as he grasped the curved handle. He held it aloft, shielding them both. Charlie, smile warming with gratitude, nestled closer and looped her arm through his. They stood together in comfortable silence, listening to the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the ground and the distant sound of laughter and splashes that echoed down the street.

With a content sigh, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the radio demon’s shoulder. “So is heaven as bad as you were expecting?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Oh, darling. It’s much worse.” He let his head fall against her in a wordless display of affection. “Though I really don’t mind the rain.”

The crackle of something burning drew her attention and she opened her eyes to see that Alastor’s arm was getting wet. He had angled the umbrella to shield her completely, leaving himself partially exposed to the holy rainfall. It had begun to disintegrate the sleeve of his shirt.

“Oh, Al! Your arm!” She quickly yanked the appendage under the umbrella’s protection and stepped closer to him so they were both fully out of the rain. With gentle fingers, she inspected his burnt sleeve to see if his skin had been marred.

He seemed completely unbothered. Once she was done fussing over his arm, he wrapped it around her waist, drawing her flush against him. She placed her hands on his chest and could feel his undead heart beating through the layers of bone, skin, and fabric.

Charlie couldn’t tear her eyes away from the radio demon. It both allured and frustrated her, the way his mouth muscles twitched, tiny, miniscule movements, never breaking his smile but giving hint to the complex man hiding beneath that charming façade.

The way he was looking at her now, so soft and tender, but with a glint of something wild in his eyes, melted her like she had thrown herself out into the holy rainfall. His gaze didn’t stray from hers, intense and imploring like her features were etched with an answer to something.

“What is it?” she asked.

His hand holding the umbrella hovered near her face. He uncurled two fingers and brushed them against her cheek. “Ask me later.”

The sound of metal scraping against stone suddenly rung out from the courthouse doors as they began to open. The angel who stood in the doorway towered over both of them. She beckoned them inside. “Princess Morningstar, the council is ready for you now.”

Charlie steeled herself as she entered the courtroom. The squeak of Alastor’s boots behind her was oddly comforting. He settled in next to her once they reached the podium. They weren’t provided chairs, and glancing up at the seating that reached towards the domed ceiling, she noticed there were significantly less people in attendance this time. Something told her the council was expecting this meeting to be over quickly.

Vaggie was sitting in one of the lower balconies, and when they met eyes, she gave the princess an encouraging thumbs up. High above, Emily was seated with the other seraphim.

“That one looks happy to see you.” Alastor nodded towards the other side of the room, where Lute was hunched over the parapet of her balcony. She had a new arm, its dazzling white metal undoubtedly angelic steel. As she glared threateningly at Charlie, her prosthetic hand gripped the railing. Wood splintered between her fingers.

A silence fell over the room as Sera and the other council members descended to their seats.

Alastor leaned closer. “Who’s she?” he whispered.

“That’s Sera,” Charlie replied quietly. “She’s the High Seraphim.”

“Her name is Sera and she’s a seraph? How original.”

“Shh!” she hushed him as everyone turned their attention upwards.

“This meeting has been called today to discuss the recent regulations established for the Hazbin Hotel’s sinner rehabilitation program. The angelic council welcomes Princess Charlotte Morningstar.” Sera paused as she peered down at Charlie. “And who is this gentleman you brought with you?”

“This is Alastor,” she replied. “He’s a sinner and my business partner at the hotel. We couldn’t run the place without him. His skills and expertise are invaluable.”

Alastor, keeping to his word about staying quiet, tucked his hands behind his back and gave a polite nod.

“BRING BACK THE EXTERMINATIONS!” Lute had jumped out of her seat and began shaking her fist at the angelic council.

Sera rubbed her temples. “Lute, I will remind you again, like I do in every council meeting, to please refrain from voicing your opinions unless you are called upon to do so.” She looked down again at Charlie. “Let us continue. Princess Morningstar, it is our understanding that you are unhappy with the evaluation system we have created for the sinners under your care.”

“Err… it’s not that I’m unhappy with it.” Charlie contemplated her words as she tried to sound diplomatic. “I think it’s great that heaven wants to take a personal interest in each of our hotel guests. But I find your evaluation criteria to be a bit unfair.”

Sera motioned for her to continue. “Please elaborate.”

“The sinner evaluation forms you have us fill out are very… umm… detailed. W-Which is also great! I totally love staying up late every night to finish them.” She laughed nervously. “But the questions you’re asking don’t really reflect the progress that each person is making.”

“How so?”

“Well, they’re too focused on who these sinners where, rather than who they’re trying to be. Take Peppy, for example.” She scanned the council members for any sign of recognition, but none of them seemed to know who she was talking about. “Uhh… he’s been a guest at the hotel for the last six months? You guys have a literal mountain of paperwork on him by this point.”

Sera turned to the angel next to her. “Urrie?”

The angel she spoke to had a sleek, insectoid body. A double set of sharp, golden eyes took up most of his angular face, framed by the glowing antennae that branched out like lightning strikes from his skull. In one hand, he summoned a golden scroll, in the other, a pair of reading glasses. He placed them in front of his lower eyes as he began reading.

“Patrick Hartwell. Born 1925. Died 1974. Cardiac arrest. Mid-coitus with a woman who was not his wife. Worked as a foreman in a cannery. Regularly misreported his hours as to hide the multiple affairs he was having. Survived by three sons and a daughter. Two of his sons are here in heaven. His other children are still alive.”

Urrie peered through his spectacles at Charlie. “Adultery is a cardinal sin, Princess Morningstar. If Mr. Hartwell didn’t reconciliate that during his life, the likelihood of him doing so in his afterlife is extremely low.”

“Peppy’s done some bad stuff, sure. There’s no doubt he was a shitty husband. But he tried to be a good dad. I know he regrets what he did. Not because he got caught. Not because it killed him. But because of how it affected the people he loves the most. He seeks redemption so he can see his kids again and tell them how sorry he is. He wants to prove to himself that he can still be a good father!”

“Hmm.” Urrie was unimpressed by her speech. “Meaningless words with no action to support them.”

“I think it’s a powerful sentiment,” Emily cut in. She turned towards Sera. “And something the council should consider.”

Sera gripped her chin with her hand, looking conflicted. “One man’s quest for redemption does not equate to an entire realm of sinners being worthy of the same.”

“You’re right,” Charlie agreed. “But that’s because everyone’s journey is different. Everyone makes progress at their own pace. If a sinner wants to be better, who are you to tell them they shouldn’t bother trying if they don’t fit into your cookie cutter expectations?”

Sera looked to Urrie for guidance. He summoned a new scroll and adjusted his glasses.

“Let’s take a look at another one of your tenants, shall we? Heather George. Born 1995. Died 2015. A lunch tray related incident at the women’s prison where she was incarcerated. She strangled her high school cheerleading captain to death after being passed over for the position herself. Imprisoned for her crime and given an additional life sentence when she incited a riot that got two prison guards killed. The fighting started over an allegedly stolen hairbrush.”

“If you met Heather now, you’d see she’s not the same person she was back then. Underneath the competitiveness and catty attitude is a girl who just wants to belong somewhere. And she’s such a huge help at the hotel! Just the other day, she-”

Urrie held up his hand, silencing the princess. “The rehabilitation program at your hotel. It's of your own creation, yes?”

Charlie nodded. “I write the lesson plans and lead most of the activities myself.”

“Then your assessment of its success would be riddled with biases.” Urrie steepled his fingers as he looked around to his fellow angels. “I wouldn’t ask a chef if his steak was the best tasting one in the city. Of course he would tell me it is.” There were murmurs of agreement around him.

“If I may!” Vaggie stood up from her seat. “I helped Charlie start the hotel. I was there to witness its success firsthand. I can speak to the integrity of its residents.”

Urrie waved his hand flippantly at her. “With all due respect, Miss Vagina, you haven’t been involved in the day-to-day of the hotel for nearly six months. How many of the current guests there have you actually interacted with?”

Vaggie rubbed her neck. “Err… just… just one,” she admitted.

“I’m much more interested in hearing from him.” Urrie pointed down at Alastor. “If Princess Morningstar’s business partner plays such an important role at her hotel, then surely he can speak on behalf of his fellow sinners.”

“What?!” Vaggie exclaimed.

“What?!” Alastor repeated. He looked panickily to Charlie.

“Alastor is more of an operations guy,” the princess quickly tried to dissuade. “You know, behind the scenes. Ordering new lightbulbs, unclogging the toilets, that kind of stuff.”

“Are you saying your most trusted staff member doesn’t know a thing about the sinners he’s helping to redeem?”

“Uhh, no! No, of course not! I-I… umm….”

Alastor put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. She looked at him and he gave her a nod of reassurance. He craned his neck up towards the angelic council. “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have about the hotel and the wayward souls who call it home,” he said confidently.

Urrie motioned for the radio demon to step towards the center of the room. Charlie felt his hand leave her shoulder and watched as he walked away from her. For such an imposing demon, he looked insignificant against the glittering opulence of the heavenly courtroom and the celestial beings that loomed above him.

“Alastor, was it?” Urrie asked. “Strange, I cannot find any mention of you among the paperwork that Princess Morningstar has sent us.”

“Well, that’s because I’m a staff member, not a guest.”

“So you’re not seeking redemption for yourself?”

“No. I quite like it down in hell.”

“How curious. Then why are you helping at the hotel?”

“Can’t I believe in cause, just not for myself?”

“You expect me to believe that a sinner would assist the princess of hell with her rehabilitation efforts, not for his own gain or to reap some kind of eternal reward, but out of the goodness of his heart?” Urrie scoffed. “That’s absurd.”

Charlie’s eyes darted between the two as they bantered. She watched as Alastor’s fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“Al,” she called out softly. He glanced over his shoulder at her and she pleaded with her eyes. Fingers unfurling from their fists, he turned back to the angelic council.

“You can believe whatever you want about my reasons for being at the hotel. They matter very little in the grand scheme of what Charlie is trying to accomplish.”

“The sinner is right,” Sera cut in. “We should focus on why we’re here. To determine if our evaluation system for those seeking redemption is a fair one.”

Urrie took off his glasses and stared down at the radio demon. “So tell me, Alastor. Do you believe the guests at your hotel are worthy of redemption?”

Alastor’s brow furrowed, smile pulling thin as he worked his jaw in contemplation. He looked back at Charlie again and she nodded encouragingly.

“You can tell the truth, Al,” she said to him. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

“I believe that’s neither our place nor yours to decide,” Alastor stated. “A person’s fate is in their own hands. We should have no authority to use those strings of fate to pull them higher, any more than you have to cut them loose entirely.”

“Eternal paradise is not something humans are entitled to,” Urrie countered. “It must be earned. The people who reside up here worked their entire lives to be worthy. And you expect that the absolute worst among you - liars, cheaters, murderers – only need to feel sorry for their misdeeds, and that will get them through our golden gates?” He shook his head. “No. The world is full of good and bad people. And when they die, they are sent where they belong.”

“Despite what you saw in photographs back in my day, the world I come from is not so black and white,” Alastor shot back. “Perhaps you lot have been up here in your dazzling utopia for so long, you’ve blinded yourself to the array of colors that saturate humanity.”

A wave of murmurs spread across the angelic audience. Urrie rose from his seat, lightning dancing around his form as his eyes multiplied and his antennae grew longer. “May I remind you who you’re speaking to. You best mind that forked tongue of yours, demon.”

“You want to know what I really think?” Alastor growled. The rough static in his voice bounced cacophonously off the marble walls.

“Al, don’t…” Charlie warned, but it went ignored.

Urrie crossed his arms. “Enlighten us, sinner.”

“I think you’re all terrified. Not of who you might be letting in here. But of the idea that if someone as despicable as me can be redeemed, that must mean that even the holiest of holy among you can be damned.”

The courtroom broke out into nervous chatter, questioning if what the radio demon said was true. Charlie was trying to get his attention, but he was too busy gloating in his alleged victory in this battle of wits. A viciously smug smile warped his features as he waited for the bug-eyed angel to respond.

Urrie held up his hand and the room fell silent. He summoned another golden scroll and pulled out his reading glasses.

“Alastor. Last name unimportant. Born in eighteen-ninety-who-cares. Died in nineteen-thirty-whatever.”

“Wait, what are you doing?!” Alastor’s voice cracked high with panic.

“Incapacitated by a gunshot wound to the head and then dismembered by a pack of hunting hounds. He was a radio host, a fairly successful one, though he quickly fell out of the public zeitgeist upon his untimely death.”

“H-How do you know all that?!”

“Real piece of work, this one. Got into a fist fight with an elevator operator who made some racist remark to his mother. Stalked the man back to his apartment and threw him out onto the street where his head got crushed by a trolley. It was all downhill from there. Murder after murder after murder. He developed this delusional sense of justice, seeing himself as some kind of judge, jury, and executioner.”

“Stop it!”

“These brutal pastimes kept him quite busy. Left no wife, no children. He was an only child, so his family line died with him. Probably for the best. This fellow came from bad stock. Not too many family members made it up here. His mother, an aunt, a few great-uncles.”

“I SAID STOP IT!!”

Shadowy tendrils erupted from Alastor’s body, anchoring themselves in the courtroom walls. He lifted himself high in the air until he was eye level with Urrie.

“I’ll rip your head from your body if you say another word!” Black ichor dripped from the radio demon’s mouth onto his white robes.

Urrie was unphased. He wiped the substance off his chest and flicked it from his hand. “Thank you for proving my point,” he said calmly. “Do you all see this? Is it not concerning that Princess Morningstar aligns herself with such a violent individual? I question her judgement of character if this is the type of person she considers to be trustworthy and goodhearted. It’s an insult to the virtues we uphold here in heaven.”

“N-No! No, that’s not…” Charlie’s voice was lost to the uproar of angry angels who began shouting and jeering at Alastor.

She clutched her head and shook it hard as she tried to wake herself up from this nightmare. What the fuck was happening?! How could things have gone so wrong? She just wanted to convince heaven to ease up on all the rules and regulations. Now they were questioning her own morals and whether redemption should even be recognized at all!

Urrie pointed an accusing finger at Alastor, who was still suspended in the middle of the courtroom, like a spider that had entangled itself in its own web. “This man was born evil, he died evil, and evil he shall remain until the end of his existence. There is no hope for sinners. Redemption is a fa-”

A tentacle speared him through the head, bursting out the back in a gory explosion of golden blood and lightning. The radio demon whipped the angel’s limp body across the room, sending it crashing into one of balconies. He threw his head back, mouth ripped wide as he erupted into deranged laughter. His antlers gnarled like cursed tree branches, breaking through the dome ceiling and shattering glass down onto the courtroom inhabitants. As his limbs began twisting and stretching, they ripped through the mauve suit that Charlie had made for him. He grew so large that his demonic form engulfed the entire room.

“YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!” he screeched, a shrill, distorted wail that made everyone cover their ears. “YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHO I USED TO BE?!” As the panicked angels tried to escape his wrath, he swatted them out of the air and crushed them with his fists. “YOU JUDGE ME BASED ON THE LIFE I LIVED A CENTURY AGO?! THAT MAN IS DEAD! THE DEMON YOU SEE NOW HAS LIVED THREE OF HIS LIFETIMES! YOU CAN’T BEGIN TO IMAGINE THE CARNAGE I’VE WROUGHT!!”

“Alastor, stop!” Charlie rushed forward. Not knowing what to do, she grabbed onto one of his undulating tendrils, hoping to divert his attention to herself.

He snapped his neck in her direction. His eyes were completely black, split by the glowing red X on his forehead. The lack of recognition in them, the lack of anything other than bloodlust and rage, made her heart seize in terror. Elongated claws dripping with angelic blood reached for her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to rip her apart. Instead, he flung her out of the way. She skidded across the floor and landed near the courtroom doors as he continued his rampage. He tore his claws into anything and anyone he could reach.

“ENOUGH!” Sera fluttered out her wings and a burst of blinding light filled the room. “Send that monster back where he belongs!”

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU ALL! I’LL RIP YOUR SOULS FROM YOUR BODIES! I’LL-” The shriek of static that erupted from Alastor’s throat made Charlie’s ears ring so painfully, she thought her eardrums might burst. Then suddenly, the floor beneath him gave way. She watched helplessly as he plummeted below the clouds and disappeared.

After the dust settled, Vaggie and Emily rushed to Charlie’s side and helped her to her feet. She was relieved to see they were both okay. Urrie popped up from the rubble with his head already beginning to sew itself back together. Hopefully that was a good sign that all the angels here would recover.

“I told you!” Lute had also survived the massacre. She stomped towards Sera and jabbed her finger into the seraph’s chest. “I told you those demonic fuckers have to be put in line! You need to bring back the exterminations! It’s the only way to keep them under control!”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Urrie said, clutching his head like he had a bad migraine.

“Sera, please,” Emily pleaded. “We don’t need to go back to that.”

Sera surveyed the destruction that surrounded them, shoulders slumped with the heavy burden of what had just occurred. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Princess Morningstar. Perhaps your efforts have been in vain. What has been, should always be. Reinstating the exterminations might be our best path forward.”

Charlie felt her knees give out and she sank back down to the ground. Vaggie and Emily were arguing with Sera and Lute, but the words were lost to the blood pulsing loudly in her own ears. The tightness in her chest made her gasp for air. Shuffling forward, she peered over the ledge of the broken floors at the barrier of clouds below.

“Oh Alastor…” she mumbled to herself. “What have you done?”

Chapter Text

The wind lashed at the torn remains of Alastor’s clothes. He somersaulted through the air, head over hooves and then hooves over head as he thrashed wildly in an attempt to slow his freefall. His tendrils spun around him like wayward fans to a windmill, trying to find anything to latch onto. It was dizzying and he couldn’t make sense of where he had fallen from and where he was falling to. Just as he found his bearings, the world turned crimson and flipped upside down on him. The skyscrapers of Pentagram City whizzed past him and he crashed down right outside the hotel, smacking against the ground with a sickening crack as his bones forcibly rearranged themselves.

He groaned and lifted his head out of the dirt. At least he had landed in the hotel garden. The soft soil and herbs had cushioned his impact. A little. He cracked his jaw back into place and squished his accordioned neck down into his shoulders. As he untangled his disarray of broken limbs, he glanced up and saw that Husk was standing in the flower bed next to him.

“What the FUCK?!” Husk leaped back and dropped the watering can in his hand. He looked up at the sky, then back down at Alastor, trying to make sense of what he just witnessed. “Where the hell did you just come from? Did you fall out of the sky?!”

“Aughhh,” Alastor gurgled as he struggled into a sitting position. He began cleaning the debris out of his hair and winced when his claw brushed against one of his antlers, which had become dislodged.

Husk surveyed the crash zone and grumbled in aggravation. “Good job destroying half the garden. It took us months to grow all this! Did you have to land right on my rhubarb? Niffty was gonna make a pie with that.” He gestured to the scaly appendage poking out from the soil. “And you killed Ted.”

Something stirred underneath Alastor and he realized he had landed on someone. Ted the lizard pervert stuck out a shaky hand and gave a thumbs up. “I’m good!” his voice cracked, muffled from the dirt.

The radio demon lurched to his feet, legs trembling as the last of his bones mended themselves. “Where’s Charlie?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, vocal cords battered from their recent misuse during his demonic rampage.

“Wasn’t she with you? I thought you two were up in heaven for that important meeting about the hotel.”

“She must still be up there,” Alastor mumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “They didn’t kick her out too.”

“What does that mean? And what happened to your clothes? Did you get sucked into a plane turbine or something?” Husk’s face fell. “Oh no. What did you do?”

With gold-stained claws, Alastor pulled at the gold-stained tattered shreds of his clothing. Anger and shame flared up inside him. Those angelic bastards, thinking they know him. Thinking they can summarize his life into a few sentences shorter than a radio jingle. Thinking they have any idea who he is now. Thinking they can weaponize him for their own corrupt agenda.

They didn’t see him as anything other than a demon. A sinner. An eternally damned soul. To them, his life had been a series of checkmarks, tallying sin after sin to prove that by fate’s design, he had always been a lost cause. His afterlife was nothing but the consequences of his actions. A period at the end of a sentence he couldn’t rewrite. And whatever came after didn’t matter because the pen had run out of ink.

They all deserved what they got! Did he let them egg him on? He would have decimated that entire courthouse if given the chance! Why couldn’t he keep his rage under control? These conflicting thoughts tormented his mind, but guilt quickly overwhelmed them all.

Charlie had asked for his help. She had trusted him and he had failed her. Miserably.

“What did you do, Alastor?” Husk asked again.

“Charlie will sort things out.” He said it more to himself than to Husk. He had to believe it was true. She’s dealt with his outbursts before. He’d apologize and attend a few extra group activities for good measure, then all would be well. And it’s not like heaven even intended to change their minds. How much worse did he really make things?

It was nearly two hours later when Charlie finally returned. Alastor was waiting for her in the lobby, his boots carving a trench into the carpet as he nervously paced back and forth. When the bright golden portal appeared, he rushed towards it, calling her name before she even had one foot back in hell.

“Charlie! I’m glad you’re back, my dearest. Apologies for that little outburst of mine. I suppose I let that bug fellow get under my skin. Nothing one of your song and dance numbers couldn’t fix, I’m sure!”

She stared right through him, her bloodshot eyes completely void of emotion. Without acknowledging his apology, she brushed past him and headed up the staircase. He spun on his heels and followed after her, taking the steps a few at a time.

“I know I lost my cool up there, but those cloud-huffing imbeciles had it coming!” He let out a defensive puff. “Was I supposed to just let them insult me like that? Insult all sinners? They have zero respect for this place and what you’re trying to do here! What we’re trying to do here.” He hoped that last bit would get some kind of reaction out of her, but she continued her brisk walk towards the elevator.

“And the audacity to say you’re a terrible judge of character! Hypocrites, I tell you! The whole lot of th-”

The elevator doors slammed shut before Alastor could join the princess inside, nearly nipping the end of his nose. As panic began to prickle under his skin like an unscratchable itch, he dissolved into shadows and slinked up towards the ceiling. A few moments later, he rematerialized outside the elevator that was down the hallway from Charlie’s bedroom. The floor indicator dinged and she stepped out.

He carried on. “If you ask me, they’re the ones who owe us an apology for wasting our time with all those forms and evaluations and whatnot.” As she trudged right past him, he trotted after her. “Wasting your time, I mean. You were so very diligent about completing those oodles of paperwork.”

They had reached the end of the hallway. After fumbling with the doorknob, Charlie entered her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. The radio demon wedged his boot inside the doorframe before it could close completely, swallowing back the grunt of pain from having his hoof crushed.

“Charlie darling, please.” He pushed open the door and hobbled inside, reaching for her before she could get too far away. “I truly am sorry.”

She yanked her hand from his grasp and whipped around, devil horns gleaming and eyes blood red as she speared him with a gaze that wounded him deeper than any angelic weapon ever could. “Don’t Charlie darling me, Alastor. Not after the stunt you just pulled.”

“I admit my actions were a bit unsavory but-”

“Unsavory?!” Charlie snapped back. “I know that asshole Urrie egged you on. He had no right to bring up all that stuff from when you were human. And those awful things he said about you were totally uncalled for. But for fuck’s sake, Alastor, you murdered half the courtroom!”

“Murdered is a strong word,” he tried to downplay. “Maimed perhaps…”

She shook her head in disbelief. “This really is just a big joke to you, isn’t it? Was it fun for you? To crush any hope that heaven will ever see sinners as anything other than a horde of irredeemable monsters? You certainly played the part well enough for them.”

“Of course not!” He stepped towards her. “I care about what happens to this place, Charlie, I do. More importantly, I care about you.”

She recoiled and hugged her arms to herself, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. “How can you claim to care about me after what you’ve done?” Her voice faltered as the first tears began trickling down her cheeks. “Y-You… you’ve ruined everything.”

Alastor felt his heart drop down to his hooves. The princess was an emotional gal, he’s seen her cry plenty of times before. But never because of him. Never because of something he did. “Don’t… don’t cry,” he stammered. “Please don’t cry, Charlie. I can fix this! Tell me how to fix this.”

“Y-You can’t,” she sniffled. “The angelic council made their decision. What has been, should always be.”

“What does that mean?”

“They’re shutting down the hotel and bringing back the exterminations.”

“Surely there’s something we can do to change their minds. What about your father? There must be a few heavenly strings he can still pull to help us out.”

She disagreed with a headshake. “It’s over, Alastor. Please just leave.”

“Are you kicking me out of the hotel?”

“This place is gonna be shut down in a few days anyways.” She slumped down on her bed with a heavy sigh and buried her head in her hands. “So go or stay, I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”

It felt like his hooves had sprouted roots and planted themselves into the floor. He couldn’t move. He just stood there helplessly as he tried to think of anything to say that would make the situation better.

“Charlie…”

“Go, Alastor.”

“Please, I…”

“I SAID GET OUT!!”

An invisible force suddenly flung the radio demon back. He skidded on his heels out of the bedroom, tumbling backwards and falling on his backside once he was out in the hallway. His boots flipped over his head as he crashed into the wall, knocking the painting that hung there askew. The door slammed loudly and the painting fell off the wall and impaled itself on his antlers. The shredded canvas hung around his neck like a pillory, though he knew he had just suffered a far worse punishment for his crime.

“What have I done,” Alastor muttered to himself.

The radio demon stared bleary-eyed at his mantle clock as he waited for the minute hand to reach the top of the hour. Impatiently, his fingers tapped its glass face, as if that would speed up the gears or even time itself. As soon as the clock chimed, he was gone in a whirlwind of shadows. Reappearing outside Charlie’s bedroom, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

“Get lost, Alastor!” called a voice from inside. It sounded like Angel Dust.

Ignoring the warning, he opened the door and stepped inside. The curtains were drawn and a gloom had settled on the usually cheery and inviting room. A stagnant musk clung to the air, the kind one would typically find in an old attic filled with forgotten and unloved things. Angel was sitting on the edge of Charlie’s bed. Heather the cheerleader killer was there too, petting the nest of blonde hair that peeked out from the blankets. The Charlie-shaped lump underneath the covers didn’t stir when Alastor entered the room. Angel and Heather both glared at him.

“There’s no point in knocking if you’re just gonna barge in anyways,” Angel spat at him.

“It’s super creepy that you keep coming down here,” Heather added.

“I just want to talk to her.”

“And she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Angel stood up, brandishing all six of his arms. It was a pathetic attempt at a threat, but the radio demon knew better than to pick another fight that would only end in upsetting Charlie even more. He backed out of the room and Angel shut the door on him. The click of the doorknob told him it had been locked.

Tentacles lashing out in frustration, he stomped down the hallway, unsure of what to do. It’s been two days since the incident in heaven. He hasn’t slept. He hasn’t eaten. Nearly every hour on the hour, he’s gone to the princess’s room to attempt another apology, but she won’t talk to him. Half the time he got shooed away by Angel, Heather, or whoever else was in there with her. Lucifer himself had stood sentry outside her door a few times, causing Alastor to quickly turn tail and retreat back to his shadows before even fully materializing.

The hotel was in shambles. Half their guests had left when they found out that not only had their journeys towards redemption been all for naught, but they once against have to worry about the yearly exterminations. He had watched from the windows of his radio tower as the hourglass on the clock tower turned itself over, sands shifting to begin another deadly countdown.

Near limitless power and the promise of eternity had granted the radio demon an afterlife unburdened by regrets. Even when he first manifested in hell, there were very few griefs from his human life that he brought with him. For the past century, he did what he wanted and cared little about the consequences beyond how they affected him personally.

Never has he felt regret like this before. Never has he been so desperate to spin back the wheel of time, to undo his actions, to unfuck the absolute fucking catastrophe he had caused.

His sweet, darling Charlie. She never was even his before he ruined whatever could have possibly been between them. He no sooner won her heart before crushing it in his blood-stained claws.

She would probably never forgive him or even speak to him again. What’s more, he was soon to be homeless, considering that even if he stayed at the hotel after it got boarded up, it would most certainly be decimated in the next extermination. Despite all that, he still couldn’t bring himself to leave this place. So he aimlessly wandered its halls like a specter, unable to move on, unable to detach himself from the person who was his whole reason for being here.

“Good riddance.”

Alastor stopped in his tracks. The lights around him dimmed, then the entire hallway was bathed in a sickly green glow.

“Can we get back on track now?”

Shadows danced along the walls, morphing the apples on the wallpaper into a blinking forest of ever-present, always-watching eyes. He felt a cold creep up his neck and shook the intrusive thoughts from his head.

He was going to fix this. And there was only one person in all of hell who would be able to help him. For once, he was grateful this person was also residing at the hotel.

A short elevator ride and a march to what felt like his doom later, Alastor found himself outside Lucifer’s workshop. He raised his fist to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Be riiiiiight there!” the king sang from the other side. When he opened the door and saw who was standing there, flames burst in his eyes and his face twisted in inexplicable rage. “YOU!” He slammed the door in Alastor’s face.

The radio demon let out an exasperated sigh and knocked again.

“Fuck off, you rabies-ridden life ruiner!”

“I only need a minute of your time, sir,” Alastor called through the door.

The door flung open again and Lucifer grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him down so they were eye level. “What makes you think you deserve that? What makes you think you deserve ANYTHING after what you did to my little girl? The only reason you’re not a pile of ash and bone is because Charlie begged me not to hurt you. And I don’t want to upset her any more than she already is.”

“I-I need your help. I want to make things right,” the radio demon struggled to say as his own bowtie choked him. “Please. For Charlie’s sake.”

“The only way you can help Charlie is to pack up all your shit and fuck off to the other side of the Pride ring. In fact, why don’t you fuck off all the way to the other side of hell! I’ll make a special exception just for you. I’m sure Belphegor has room for you down in the Sloth ring.” Lucifer shoved him to the floor. “Now get out of my sight. Your stench is making the paint peel on my rubber duckies.”

“I know I royally fucked up. I’m not too prideful to admit that. And Charlie shouldn’t have to pay the price for my mistakes.”

“That’s something we can agree on,” Lucifer spat angrily.

Alastor rose to his feet. “Please, sir. You know I wouldn’t ask for your assistance unless I was truly desperate.”

The king didn’t shoo him off again. Instead, he crossed his arms, studying Alastor with an unreadable expression. “So who was the angel you stabbed in the face?”

“Some bug fellow with glasses. I believe he was their recordkeeper or something of the sort.”

“Urrie? Hah!” Lucifer let out a sharp laugh. “Fuck that guy! He totally deserved it. He’s been a know-it-all prick since the dawn of creation.” He looked pensive again as he began tapping his fingers on his elbows. “Listen, even if I wanted to help you, there’s nothing I can do. I have no authority up there anymore and I’m pretty sure I lost the privilege to ask any favors when I killed Adam.”

“Technically, dear little Niffty killed Adam,” Alastor quipped back, unable to help himself. “But I’m not asking for much. I just need to borrow your pocket telephone for a moment.”

“That’s it? Really?” Lucifer eyed him up suspiciously before pulling his phone out of his pocket. “For what, exactly?”

“I need to make a call to an old co-worker.”

Phone in hand, Alastor ducked into one of the vacant guest rooms down the hallway. His reputation at the hotel had suffered enough. He didn’t need any of the remaining tenants to see him tinkering around with modern technology. After fumbling with the cellular device for an embarrassingly long stretch of time (there was no way he’d go back to ask for Lucifer’s assistance), he finally managed to place a call.

It rang once, twice, then the screen lit up and Vaggie’s face appeared.

“Lucifer, sir,” she greeted. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Is everything okay? Is Charlie okay? I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now.”

“VAGGIE, HELLO!” Alastor shouted at the phone. How these little rectangles of witchcraft worked were beyond him. He had no clue where the transmitter or receiver were on the thing. “THIS IS ALASTOR. FROM THE HOTEL.”

“Alastor?” she repeated. “What the fuck, why are you calling me from Lucifer’s phone? Why are you calling me at all?!”

“VAGGIE, IT’S ALASTOR.” He could barely hear her and wasn’t sure if she could hear him. “I’M CALLING YOU FROM LUCIFER’S POCKET TELEPHONE.”

“That’s what I just said. Stop shouting, I can hear you just fine.”

“SPEAK UP, DEAR! YOU’RE MUMBLING.”

“Put me on speaker, you dipshit!”

“YES, I’M SPEAKING TO YOU. THIS IS ALASTOR. YOU KNOW, FROM THE HOTEL.”

“Press the goddamn button that looks like a speaker!”

Alastor looked down at the screen and saw a row of icons under Vaggie’s annoyed face. He tapped the one vaguely shaped like the horn of his phonograph.

“Can you hear me now?” she asked.

“Yes! Much more audible,” he replied.

“Why did you call me, Alastor? And what the fuck am I looking at right now? Is that the inside of your nose?”

He’d been holding the phone close to his mouth, pointing the camera right up his nostrils. “I didn’t realize you could see me at all.”

“You video called me. And you don’t need to be that close.” Vaggie was quickly losing patience. “Just put the phone in front of your face.”

Alastor did as he was instructed and was now looking at the tacky design on the back of Lucifer’s phone case. “Well, now I can’t see you, Vaggie! These silly little gadgets are very poorly designed.”

“Oh my god, you fucking dinosaur. There’s a camera on the front. Turn it around!”

He flipped the phone over to see the angel’s eye twitching as her rage threatened to boil over.

“What the fuck do you want, Alastor?”

“I need you to arrange another meeting with the angelic council. I’d like to have an audience with them.”

“So you can go on another rampage and finish them all off? Absolutely not.”

“I know my actions had dire consequences for the hotel and I want to make things right. The only way I can do that is if I talk to the angelic council and convince them to give Charlie and her redemption efforts another chance.”

She shook her head. “Even if they’d agree to a meeting like that, there’s no changing the council’s mind. Lute is already rallying the troops for the next extermination.”

“Is that Alastor? Hi Alastor!” Emily popped on screen next to Vaggie and smiled. “You’re looking… umm… a lot less scary than the last time I saw you.”

“Emily, dear. It’s good to see you again. I apologize for my, ah, unmannerly conduct the last time you saw me. As I was just telling Vaggie, I was hoping for the opportunity to extend that apology to the angelic council.”

“That’s a great idea!” Emily turned towards her girlfriend. “We should help him, Vaggie.”

“Em, there’s no way the council will even let Alastor back into heaven, let alone have an audience with him.”

“Let me talk to Sera. I’m sure I can at least convince her to meet with him. That’s a start, right?”

“I’d be much obliged,” Alastor replied. He put a hand to his chest and winked at the two ladies. “And I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Golden sparks fizzled off Alastor’s dress coat as he stepped through the portal into heaven. Vaggie and Emily were waiting for him at the pearly gates and behind them loomed a dozen or so robe-clad angels. As he approached them, Vaggie stepped forward and snapped a pair of handcuffs onto his wrists. The metal burned where it dug into his skin, and when he yanked on them, they glowed white. Angelic steel, he presumed.

He raised an eyebrow indignantly at her. “Is this really necessary?”

“We’re not taking any chances,” she said sharply. With a light shove, she motioned for him to follow their angelic escorts towards the courthouse.

Word must have gotten around heaven about the deranged deer demon who went feral and decimated the angelic council. As they lead Alastor down the street, people quickly hurried out of their way or peered curiously out the windows of nearby buildings. A gaggle of cherubs dove into a trash can and he could hear them whimpering as he passed by. Under different circumstances, he might have had a chuckle at how his reputation seemed to precede him in heaven as well. But right now, it was a humbling reminder of how terribly he had transgressed.

A few exterminators, donned in their monochrome uniforms and horned helmets, were loitering outside the courthouse. They appeared to be handing out flyers, and as Alastor ascended the steps, he caught a glimpse of the verbiage that read More retribution in half the time! Let’s double the fun of exterminations! Support the six-month cycle! He rolled his eyes. They must be trying to bump up the extermination timeline again.

One of the exterminators ripped off her helmet to reveal Lute. She cracked a deranged smile as she watched the manacled radio demon being led into the courthouse. “Fuck yeah! Are we bringing back public smitings?! Put that asshole’s head on a spike!”

Construction crews worked fast in heaven. Alastor saw that the domed ceiling had already been repaired. There were no claw marks in the walls, crumbled pillars, or a drop of angelic blood anywhere. It was like his rampage had never even happened. He was ushered passed the main chamber and into a small meeting room with just two chairs on opposite sides of a table.

“Sera will be here in a few minutes,” Emily told him. She smiled reassuringly. “Good luck!”

Vaggie nodded in agreement, a twisted expression on her face that he realized was an attempt at sincerity. “Good luck,” she repeated.

He at least commended the High Seraphim for being punctual. A few minutes later, Sera entered the room and took a seat across from him.

“Alastor,” she greeted curtly. “Or should I call you the radio demon? That’s the moniker Emily tells me you go by. It certainly explains some of your…” She pursed her lips. “Unique methods of destruction.”

“Alastor is fine,” he responded. With his shackled hands, he motioned to their modest surroundings. “I take it you and I will be the only participants in this conversation?”

“I’m only here as a favor to Emily. Everyone else on the angelic council refused to speak with you. However, I will relay to them whatever apology Princess Morningstar has asked you to make.”

“Charlie didn’t send me. I’m here of my own accord.”

Sera folded her hands on top of the table, her stoic demeanor unchanging. “Is that right? Does she know you’ve come here?”

“No. She and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now.” Sadness tinged his smile. “I’m afraid I’ve destroyed something much harder to repair than your courthouse.”

She looked at him with something akin to pity. “If you didn’t come at the princess’s behest, then why are you here?”

“To ask you not to punish Charlie and her hotel for my crimes. My actions were my own. I can be… monstrous. Even by hell’s standards. I say this not to absolve myself of accountability, but in the hope you won’t consider my behavior to be a reflection of all sinners.”

“What made you lose control?” Sera spoke to him with patience, but there was a rhetorical air to her question that felt scrutinizing.

Alastor worked his jaw as he thought of a response. The answer to that was something he was still struggling to accept himself. “I suppose the reminder of my mortal follies struck too deeply a nerve.”

Her fingers steepled against her lips and she hummed behind them. A sound that was not quite sympathetic but not quite indifferent. It was another moment until she spoke again. “Urrie can be shortsighted sometimes despite the wellspring of knowledge he possesses. I regret that we allowed his tactics in that meeting to become so uncouth. It was unfair of him to make an example of you.”

“It seems to me like he was never keen on the idea of the hotel, same for the lot of you. Especially not since that snake fellow proved its effectiveness.”

Another beat of silence passed between them as Sera reflected on his words. “I admit what you said in that meeting holds some truth. If your kind can repent and find redemption, then it must be just as easy for us to lose our way and face damnation. After all, it’s happened before. But we always thought Lucifer was just one bad apple in the bunch. What will happen if the entire orchard spoils?"

Alastor gave a coy shrug, grin curling on its sides. "There’s plenty of room at the hotel. You all could check in with us and find salvation again.”

Sera chuckled lightly and a small smile brightened her usually somber expression. “I suppose you’re right.” She considered Alastor for a moment, then made a small motion with her hand. Suddenly, the burning pressure around his wrists vanished. He looked down and saw that the angelic steel handcuffs had disappeared.

She stood up. “I will call an emergency meeting with the council and ask for them to rescind your previous testimony and allow you to speak again on behalf of the Hazbin Hotel.” She gestured for him to remain in his seat. “Now I suggest you take this opportunity to gather your thoughts and properly prepare yourself, lest we have an incident like last time.”

He snapped his fingers and an overstuffed binder, thick with papers, poofed into existence and slammed down hard on the table. “No need to fret! I came fully prepared.”

As Sera opened the door to leave, she glanced back at the radio demon. “There is something that Urrie and I agree upon. How very curious it is that a sinner who isn’t seeking redemption for himself wants to help Princess Morningstar. So earnestly, in fact, given your presence here now. Why is that?”

Alastor wrung his hands over his wrists, soothing the tender flesh that was still burning. A worse pain was searing in his chest. “Charlie, she’s… she’s very dear to me.”

There was a deep understanding in Sera’s eyes. Of what exactly, he wasn’t sure. “I see,” was all she said.

Charlie unstuck her damp cheek from her pillow. As she turned over in bed, it felt like cobwebs broke from her limbs and a shroud of dust was shaken loose. Since returning from heaven, she’s barely moved from the layers of blankets and pillows that entombed her. It’s been… three days? Maybe four? They had begun to blend together. If not for Niffty stopping by to bring her breakfast, lunch, and dinner, most of which went untouched, she would have lost track of time entirely.

The handful of people who remained at the hotel all came to check on her. Angel Dust and Heather wanted to make sure she hadn’t fused permanently to her bed. Husk had slipped a flask under her pillow. Ted and Peppy popped in to assure her they weren’t going anywhere. Laurel had sent Leonard to the Cannibal Town apothecary to fetch her a little pick-me-up, which she pretty sure was some old-timey concoction of cherry syrup and cocaine.

The princess was grateful for the compassion and comradery everyone showed her, but there was a heavy tension surrounding their interactions that no one was brave enough to break. A silently screamed I told you so. She had been a fool to trust Alastor and everyone knew it.

She’s never felt heartbreak like this before. It wasn’t just a mourning for a relationship that never even happened. She had put her faith in the man, despite everyone’s warnings that he would only end up hurting her. She had allowed herself to care for him, to fall for him, to spiral so deep in her feelings that her scarlet-hued world softened to rose-tinted. He had charmed her, wooed her, and in her naivety, she had convinced herself he actually cared about her.

And maybe he did, as much as he was capable of. But Alastor’s capacity for affection was mostly reserved for himself. There wasn’t much room for anyone else.

Charlie felt a new surge of tears sting her eyes and she pressed her face into her pillow to wipe them away. A shuddered sigh escaped her lips. She knew she needed to get it together. The hotel might be getting shut down, but there were still people here who needed her. If she couldn’t help them find redemption, she could at least protect them during the exterminations. In spite of everything, she still felt it was her purpose to help her people.

She nestled further down into her blankets. The exterminations wouldn’t be for a few months, at least. Maybe she could rot in bed until then. Finding her new purpose could wait a little while longer.

There was a knock at her door and she instantly recognized the rhythmic cadence that Alastor used whenever he bothered to knock, her heart skipping in time with each tap. He had attempted to see her so often the last few days that when his visits abruptly stopped, she wondered if he had given up and finally abandoned the hotel. She felt a small rush of relief at knowing he was still here.

Even still, she had no desire to talk to him, let alone even look at him. So the knock went unanswered. She could hear the faint rustle of his shadow slinking under the door, then her mattress compressed with the weight of someone sitting next to her. A hand gently rested on her shoulder.

“Charlie…” Alastor said softly.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him to go away again, so she pretended that she was asleep. He sat with her for a few minutes but didn’t say anything else. With a staticky sigh, he rose from her bed but didn’t immediately leave. Instead, she heard him shuffle towards her nightstand and place something on it. Then the room went silent and she sensed she was alone again.

Charlie sat up and looked over to see he had left her a letter. Another attempt at an apology, or maybe this was his written farewell. It was in a golden envelope and upon closer inspection, she realized it wasn’t from the radio demon. It was from heaven. Dread twisted in her stomach. This was probably their official cease-and-desist. Though it was strange that Alastor would take it upon himself to deliver it to her personally. She opened the letter and began reading.

Dear Princess C. Morningstar,

We are writing to inform you that the Hazbin Hotel has been officially sanctioned to continue its rehabilitation program. In order to streamline this process, weekly sinner evaluations will no longer be required. A sinner’s eligibility for redemption will be determined by the act of redemption itself.

All cleansed souls must report to the SinNoMo Center within twenty-four hours of their ascension and are required to attend a two-week onboarding program before being fully integrated into heavenly society.

The Save All Souls Act has been established to ensure the well-being of all souls departed from the mortal world. As part of this legislation, the annual extermination has been abolished. Any acts of violence committed by heavenly or hellish parties against the other will be considered a violation of this act.

As the Hazbin Hotel is now considered a heaven-sponsored business, they will be required to pay applicable inter-dimensional and industry-specific taxes. This will retroactively take effect during the current tax season. Please expect a letter from the Eternal Revenue Services (ERS) within the next seven business days that outlines the Hazbin Hotel’s current tax obligations.

Have a blessed day.

Sincerely,

The Angelic Council

Charlie read over the letter a few more times. Was she understanding this correctly? Did heaven just tell her that she could keep running the hotel? What’s more, that they’ll accept any sinner who finds redemption? AND they got rid of the exterminations? Permanently?!

She pinched down hard on her cheek. She had to be dreaming. Or maybe she mixed up Husk’s flask and Laurel’s coke medicine and was having a vivid hallucination. This couldn’t be real. Just a few days ago, the angelic council had told her that her dream was a lost cause, that sinners were a lost cause, that the only options a damned soul had were eternal suffering or extermination. What had caused such a sudden and extreme change of heart?

Her hands dove under her pillows and blankets in a frantic search for her phone. She needed to call Vaggie. She and Emily must have something to do with this. She found it wedged between her mattress and headboard, and her fingers couldn’t tap through her list of contacts fast enough.

“I got the letter from heaven!” Charlie exclaimed as soon as Vaggie picked up. “The hotel, Vaggie! We’re back in business!”

“We just found out ourselves,” Vaggie replied. “Oh Charlie, I’m so happy for you. This is everything you wanted. Everything we both wanted. Emily too. And now more and more people are believing in your cause.”

“Whatever you guys did, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“It, uhh… wasn’t us, actually. It was Alastor.”

Charlie nearly dropped the phone out of her hand. “What?”

“Yeah, he asked to meet with the angelic council. No one else was allowed in, but supposedly he had this huge ass binder filled with information about the hotel, all the guests there, your lesson plans, even stuff like how often Niffty cleans the toilets. They were in the courtroom for hours. Whatever he said to the council convinced them to change their minds.”

She felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs and had to remind herself to breath. “Alastor did all that?”

“He did.” There was a faint rush of static as Vaggie sighed into the phone. “I still don’t trust that asshole but… maybe I was wrong about some things. He does care about you, Charlie.”

After hanging up with Vaggie, the princess leaned back against the headboard of her bed. Her head spinning, her heart fluttering, she was in a daze. The grief and heartbreak from the last few days had been lifted from her so suddenly, it was disorienting. She reached again for the letter from heaven and noticed there was another note that Alastor had left for her. She unfolded it and immediately recognized his jagged handwriting and crude drawings. It was a picture of the hotel. A bunch of vaguely humanoid scribbles were floating above it, which she assumed were supposed to be redeemed souls. In front of the building were the two of them. Alastor wore an exaggerated frown that stretched far below his face. Next to him was a speech bubble that read I’M SORRY. Her doodled doppelganger had a responding speech bubble that said I FORGIVE YOU.

Charlie smiled softly and clutched the drawing to her heart. Then she threw her covers off, hopped out of bed, and prepared for the hot mess she was about to see in the mirror.

Tap tap tap-tap.

Charlie knocked gently on the radio demon’s door, hoping he would hear it over the melancholic jazz ballad that was drifting out from inside the room.

“Unless you’re selling Demon Scout cookies, take a hike!”

“It’s Charlie,” she answered.

The music screeched to a stop, then she heard a loud crash and the percussive click-clack of his boots against the wooden floor. The door was wrenched open and Alastor loomed in the doorframe, hunched over and breathless.

“Charlie!” he managed between pants. “I-I wasn’t expecting… err, that is I… w-what brings you up here?”

Wordlessly, she held up the letter from heaven in her hand.

His eyes widened in recognition. “Ah, so you’ve heard the good n-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Charlie threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his chest.

“Thank you,” she breathed out, feeling tears well in her eyes. She nuzzled against his dress shirt, not caring that she was getting it wet.

His body went rigid, then all the tension sloughed off of him as he enveloped her in a snug embrace. He cradled her head against his chest, fingers threading through her hair.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he murmured softly. “I’m the one who caused this mess in the first place.”

“How did you do it? What the heck did you say to the angelic council that made them change their minds?”

“Oh, not much. Just shared some of my observations at the hotel. I do pay attention to the goings-on here, you know. Most of the time.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “No more judging sinners against impossible standards… no more exterminations… no more paperwork!”

“I did try to get us out of paying taxes but that was something they refused to budge on,” he added.

“And that jerk Urrie? He was okay with all this?”

“Perhaps having his brains splattered on his colleagues was a humbling experience for him. His only stipulation was that I never be permitted to step foot in heaven again, which I was more than happy to oblige.”

She gave a wet laugh. “Alastor, you’re the most awful, arrogant, astoundingly stubborn… and absolutely amazing man that I’ve ever met.”

“Hah! That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” He tucked his hand under her chin and lifted it so she was looking at him. There was something raw and vulnerable in his eyes, and his smile was quirked to one side in that sincere way she was beginning to love. “Charlie darling,” he began. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course I can,” she answered.

The princess hugged him tighter, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest as a cathartic rush of static released from deep inside it. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw that his radio tower was in a state of complete disarray. His bookcase was mostly bare, its contents scattered all over the floor. The panel on the side of his radio console was missing and a jumble of frayed wires hung haphazardly across the various buttons and knobs. There were deep gashes in his armchair, ones she knew he couldn’t create with his normal-sized claws. A gentle sadness washed over her as she realized she wasn’t the only one who had let themselves be consumed by their grief.

“Do pardon the mess,” he said, trying to sound aloof. “I’ve been a bit… preoccupied the past few days.”

Charlie stepped into the room and picked a book off the floor. With a touch of magic, she mended its torn pages.

“I’m sorry.”

Alastor took the book from her hand. “My dearest, there’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

“I feel like I do. I never thought the angelic council would target you like that. The way Urrie personally attacked you, I can’t imagine what that felt like.”

He had turned his back to her as he placed the book back on its shelf and she saw a line of tension straighten his spine. Just as quickly, he relaxed. “Yes well, he got his comeuppance, didn’t he?”

“Was what he said true? About the dogs ripping you apart when you died?”

The radio demon had bent over to pick up another book and his hand froze. It clenched into a fist. “Yes.” His voice was flat and unfiltered. As he stood up, he cleared his throat with a staticky cough, sounding like he was tuning himself to a different station. “But I was already half-dead. Barely felt a thing.”

“And that stuff about being a one-man justice system? Was that true too?”

He abruptly shut the book in his hand and tossed it onto the bookcase. “Charlie, it was so long ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I know but… it was your life, Alastor.”

“I don’t understand why you care so much about my time as a human,” he huffed irritably. “My existence down here has been far longer and far more interesting. I’ve already been judged for the life I lived. That’s why I’m in hell. There’s nothing more to be said about it.”

“I’m not judging you. I just want to know you. Every version of you,” she said. “I barely know anything about you, Al. I mean, I don’t even know what you like to eat for breakfast!”

He flicked his hand dismissively at her. “Well, that’s a silly thing to wonder about. I just eat whatever Niffty puts in front of me.”

Charlie sighed. He had completely missed her point, but she wasn’t going to push the matter further. “I should go. Need to make my rounds to tell everyone the good news. And then start figuring out where we go from here.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Yes, of course. I’d offer to help, but I’m sure no one wants to see my smiling face right now.” He looked like he had more to say, and so did she, but this didn’t feel like the right time.

Charlie took a step towards the door, then stopped. She turned back towards him. “For what it’s worth, the Alastor that Urrie was talking about? I don’t think he sounded all that bad.” She reached out and cupped his cheek. “In fact, I think I would have liked him.”

Alastor’s eyes fluttered slowly, reacting to the subtle caress of her thumb against his cheekbone. The shades of red in them, usually so vivid against his pupils, had subdued into something melancholic. Conflict etched itself into his face, brow creasing and smile straining as he considered her words. Lost to his own thoughts, he said nothing as she pulled away and departed his radio tower.

The pink glittery gel pen scratched a final checkmark on Charlie’s list. She gave a nod of approval as she scanned down the list of names again. Half of the hotel guests that had left agreed to come back, a quarter or so didn’t answer her phone calls, and just a few of them told her to go fuck herself. That was a far better outcome than she expected!

She tucked the paper under the claw of her clipboard and flipped over to her to-do list. Inform the current residents that the hotel isn’t closing and their souls won’t be damned for all eternity? Check. Call the former residents and beg them to come back and give the hotel another shot? Check. Rewrite all the lesson plans that were covered in snot and tears because she had very quickly run out of tissues while wallowing in despair? That was up next.

The pages on her clipboard suddenly fluttered up as if caught in a gust of wind. Her eyes followed the shadow that slithered down the wall and took form in front of the fireplace. Alastor always seemed to know when she was burning the midnight oil in the hotel study. She watched as he meandered around the room, wiping his finger in the soot on the fireplace mantle, opening up the face of the grandfather clock in the corner to adjust the minute hand, plucking one of the self-help books off the shelf and feigning interest in its back cover summary. He eventually found his way to the loveseat where she was sitting and leaned against the armrest.

“Oatmeal with a dash of cinnamon, half a peach, and a cup of black coffee,” he said.

Charlie cocked her head at him, confused. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“It’s what I ate for breakfast nearly every morning for twenty years.”

Warmth flooded the princess’s chest and she smiled. “What did you do with the other half of the peach?”

“When I lived with my mother, she would have it with her breakfast. Otherwise, I’d save it for a sweet treat after lunch.”

“I thought you didn’t like sweets,” she teased.

He gave a casual shrug. “I have a few exceptions.”

“That all sounds delicious. You should ask Niffty to make it for us sometime!”

“No, that’s alright.” Alastor glanced down at her, eyes soft and reminiscent. “I think I’d rather keep that as a memory.”

She nodded in understanding. Patience was a virtue, one she preached constantly to her hotel guests. She wanted Alastor to open up to her on his own terms. No matter how long it took or how little he told her, she would appreciate every snippet of his life that he shared with her.

She observed him for a moment, the embers from the fireplace dancing in the reflection of his eyes, the tap of his cane against his claws as he absently twirled it between his fingers, the faint hum of static on his every exhale. Down on the armrest, his hand laid next to hers. His fingers twitched, hesitantly inching over as he brushed his index finger against her pinky. The gentle touch made her entire body goosebump. She responded, slowly lacing her fingers through his.

Their eyes met. Charlie wondered if Alastor could feel her pulse quicken through her fingertips, could hear how loudly her heart hammered against her ribcage. She wondered if he knew how his own hand trembled or that color had flushed his usually ashen face.

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk about us, have we?” she asked timidly.

His grin tugged lopsided. “Is there still an us to talk about?”

“I’d like there to be.”

“So would I.”

He sat down on the armrest, spreading his arm along the back of the loveseat. His broad frame loomed over her. She felt both intimidated and protected by it, a reminder that he was a demon capable of many terrible things, yet with her, he could be so... different.

“Charlie?”

“Alastor?”

“Forgive me for sounding so forward, but I would very much like to kiss you again.”

She smiled. “You’re forgiven.”

His eyes crinkled with affection as his hand found her cheek, fingers weaving through her hair to cradle the back of her neck. She closed her eyes as his lips pressed against hers, feeling the last remnants of her pain and heartbreak from the past few days melt away. Her hands anchored on his chest as she surged upwards to deepen their kiss. He squeaked from somewhere deep in his throat, nearly falling back off the armrest. Then he leaned forward, meeting her enthusiasm as he clumsily smacked his lips against hers a few more times.

When they pulled away, Alastor’s hand still cupped her face. He pressed his thumb against her lips, wet with his saliva more than her own. There was a dizzying wonder and deep want in his eyes, like kissing her was such an intoxicating indulgence that he needed to pace himself. A heady rush coursed through her as well, lips buzzing with the desire for more.

“Heaven doesn’t count, by the way,” he said offhandedly.

“Count for what?”

“Our first date, of course. I’m still keen on taking you out for that coffee. Tomorrow, perhaps? Before some other terrible thing befalls the hotel and thwarts our plans again.”

She chuckled. “It’s a date.”

“Wonderful!” He hopped up from his seat, pointing a finger defiantly in the air. “Even if god themself showed up to shut down the hotel tomorrow, nothing will stop me from taking you on a proper date!”

She laughed nervously. “Ehh, maybe don’t jinx us, Al.”

Chapter Text

For once, it was Charlie’s turn to quietly observe from the shadows.

She had just turned the corner of the hallway towards the staircase when she spotted Alastor already down in the lobby. Surprising, considering his habit of being fashionably late to nearly every goings-on at the hotel. He was looking at his reflection in the window and muttering to himself as he fiddled with the buttons of his dress coat. Seemingly satisfied with his primping, he gave a self-assured nod to his mirrored image and turned towards the staircase. After rolling back and forth on his heels a few times, he summoned his cane to lean on. It disappeared just as quickly and he continued fidgeting, crossing his arms, then folding them behind his back, then propping an elbow on one of the banisters. With an antsy huff, he jumped back in front of the window and began aggressively wrangling his bowtie.

Charlie smiled to herself as she watched him, savoring the moment while she went unnoticed. It was pretty cute, seeing how nervous he was. The man was usually all confidence, charm, and quick-wits. He’s fearlessly faced overlords, exorcists, the angelic council, even her father, but getting a cup of coffee with her? It was the only time she’s ever seen him shaking in his boots.

Not to say she wasn’t nervous herself. Her dating life had gone stagnant after she and Vaggie split, not to mention it’s been years since she’s been on a first date. And this wasn’t just a casual “getting back in the game” type of date. This was a date with Alastor. The radio demon. Her business partner and arguably her closest friend. The man who, for the last few months, made every shared glance, lingering touch, and moment alone together feel like they were already engaged in a torrid love affair.

How long had it been for Alastor, she wondered. Romance always seemed of little interest to him, but given his interest in her, it made her curious if his dating life had more life to it than she realized. Were there any times he had discreetly kept company up in his radio tower? Sneaked his latest fling out of the hotel in the early hours of the morning? Jealousy panged in her stomach at the thought, which made her feel a bit like a hypocrite, considering she was with someone else for half the time she’s known him. 

He really was quite the catch, once you got past the pointy teeth and cannibalistic murder sprees. Charismatic, chivalrous, and able to engage you in a witty conversation just as easily as he could make you laugh. Handsome too, and not just by demon standards. She didn’t know much about his human life, but if the alluring smile in that photo of him was any indication, he looked like he broke just as many hearts as he twisted a knife into.

Whatever his romantic history, Charlie knew the radio demon wouldn’t be the type to kiss and tell. The man loved his secrets.

As she approached the top of the staircase, he finally noticed her. Instantly his smile stretched wide to mask his nervousness and he watched her with sly, narrowed eyes as she descended the steps. Grin curling on its ends, he extended a hand to her once she reached the lobby.

“Shall we, my dearest?” he crooned smoothly. It was quite the contrast to the staticky expletives he had just been mumbling to himself when he though no one could hear him.

As she placed her hand in his, she felt her heart flutter when he immediately brought it to his lips. His eyes darted around the lobby, checking that they were alone, before he planted a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

“I plan to steal as much time with you as I can today,” he said as he held open the lobby doors for her. “So I hope you don’t mind walking.”

“Not at all,” she replied. The walk to Cannibal Town was actually quite nice. The white picket fences and fragrant rose bushes were a welcomed change from the corpse-filled dumpsters and drug-packed vending machines that lined most of Pentagram City’s streets. She had Alastor to thank for showing her that such a lovely place could even exist in hell.

As they stepped outside the hotel gates, he hooked his arm with hers and they headed down the street. Their journey was mostly uneventful. It was still early enough in the day that most of hell’s down-on-their-luck inhabitants hadn’t yet awoken from the puddles of piss and booze where they blacked out the night before. Anyone they saw on the sidewalk was quick to get out of their way, mumbling an apology as they avoided eye contact with the radio demon. Charlie noticed how his lip curled with smugness and he pridefully tugged her a little closer each time they passed someone. She was sure his ego needed some inflating after that humbling experience in heaven.

“Nice ass, blondie!”

They both stopped in their tracks and she could feel Alastor tense next to her. With a sickening crack, his head spun around to look behind him. She followed his gaze to some portly sinner stumbling out of the nearby alleyway. He was double fisting two nearly empty bottles of liquor, and if the variously aged stains on his shirt were any indication, he’d been boozed up since the previous night.

“What did you say?” Alastor asked sharply.

The porty sinner hiccupped, spit dribbling down his chin. He pointed with one of the bottles at Charlie. “Aaaaaaaaaaaass,” he drawled. “Nice ass!”

“Do you have any idea who she is?” Alastor took a step towards the sinner, eyes glowing blood red.

“I sure do! A nice pair of tits with three holes.”

The radio demon’s grin stretched wide, nearly taking up his entire face as it illuminated like his radio console. The static that grinded between his teeth caused the air to feel thick and Charlie’s skin to goosebump.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” he threatened, voice distorting lower and lower with each word. His neck and shoulders stretched high, casting an intimidating shadow over the man.

Charlie yanked on his jacket sleeve. “Al, don’t,” she whispered. “He’s just some drunk creep. Don’t let him ruin our date.”

Alastor glowered at the portly sinner with enough heat to incinerate him where he stood. He glanced down at the princess and she squeezed his arm again, pleading with her eyes. With an angry snort, he shrank back down to his regular size and swiveled his head back in the right direction.

“That pickled pervert isn’t worth my time anyways,” he grumbled. “I hope you find some manners at the bottom of those bottles!” he called over his shoulder as they continued down the street.

A few blocks later, Charlie spotted the pink and white striped awning of their destination. The café’s name was printed on the fabric, gold lettering that read Ask Not For Whom The Pot Drips. The smell that wafted out onto the street was intoxicating, a mix of coffee beans, baked goods, and something meaty that she was too afraid to identify. From the windows, she could see the café was already packed with patrons.

The radio demon hummed in annoyance as he opened the door for her and they both squeezed inside. “This place has certainly popped off in popularity since I last passed by.”

Charlie looked around and noticed that most of the folks here weren’t even from Cannibal Town. She watched Alastor’s lip snarl in disdain as a young imp woman snapped a photo of her drink, then immediately dropped the untouched beverage into the trash.

“Another authentic experience lost to the sham and glam of internet virality,” he scoffed.

“Hey, at least they’re supporting small business,” she encouraged. “It’s not like we need any more Voxbucks in hell.”

“Hah!” He brightened at her slight jab at the television demon. “A valid point. I much prefer my coffee percolated, not brewed in a sewer run-off.”

As they approached the counter, Charlie eyed up the tasty looking pastries in the display case. But upon realizing that the almonds atop the bear claws were in fact fingernails, her stomach soured and she quickly turned her attention to the drink menu.

“I’ll take an iced cappuccino!” she said cheerfully to the barista. “With, err… whatever type of milk you have that doesn’t have people in it.”

The barista blinked her soulless black eyes at her as she wrote down her order. “One iced cappuccino with oat milk.”

“Black coffee for me. As hot as you can make it,” Alastor added on.

“How very tortured poet of you,” she said flatly. “That’ll be eight-fifty.”

With a snap of his fingers, the exact amount appeared in his hand and he slapped it down on the counter. The barista grabbed one of the bills and held it up to the light. She raised an eyebrow.

“Is this money even real?”

Alastor braced one hand on the counter and the other on his hip. “Is any money even real? Is it not just a social construct we’ve arbitrarily assigned value to?” He took a napkin from the dispenser and waved it at her. “Why, I could just claim this flimsy napkin is worth a billion dollars and pay you with that!”

She sighed and placed the money into the cash register. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with all the weirdos who come in here.”

“That’s the spirit!” he cheered with a pump of his fist.

Charlie followed him to the side of the counter where they waited for their drinks. “I could have paid if you didn’t have any cash on you,” she offered.

“Don’t be silly! What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed the lady to pay for things on our first date?”

She laughed. “It’s the twenty-first century, Al. That’s pretty common nowadays. How long has it been since you’ve gone on a date?”

“I got an iced cappuccino, no people, and a black coffee for some pretentious prick?”

Alastor wriggled through the crowd of patrons and returned a moment later with their drinks. “Now! Where would you like to sit, darling? A table by the window perhaps? I do love to people-watch.”

Charlie noticed how he had completely avoided her question. “Sure, that sounds nice but I don’t think there are any-”

She watched as he strolled over to the window and stopped in front of a table where two sharp-dressed demons were typing away on their laptops. They both looked confused as their screens started glitching, then look up to see the radio demon looming over them.

“Move,” he demanded.

Quickly the men gathered their things and scurried out of the café. With both beverages still in his hand, Alastor summoned a tentacle to pull out a chair for Charlie.

“Is helping a lady to her seat too old-fashioned for you as well?”

She scrunched her nose in reply as he handed over her drink. Just as she was about to scoot her chair in, she squeaked as she felt something brush against her ankle. The tentacle coiled around the chair legs and pushed it in for her. Alastor sat down opposite her, looking pleased with his gentlemanly gesture.

Awkward silence fell between the pair. Charlie drummed a rhythm against her cup with her fingers, just to give them something to do. The radio demon had crossed his legs, hoof bouncing restlessly as he sipped his black coffee. They caught each other’s eyes a few times and exchanged sheepish smiles.

It was silly. They were never short on conversation when in each other’s company, but that had always been as business partners or friends. Now that they were on the cusp of being something more, she was feeling completely tongue-tied. Like every word spun the dial on a safe that would finally open him up, but she was too afraid to get the combination wrong, lest she risk locking him away forever.

And Alastor? She knew enough about him to know he downplayed whatever was really going on inside his head with snarky remarks and long-winded ramblings. His uncharacteristic silence right now made her wonder if he was also anxious about where their relationship was headed, now that they were out together as more than just friends.

The princess took a deep breath. They couldn’t dance around the topic forever. Well, maybe Alastor could, considering how much he loved dancing. And ignoring his own emotions. But she would be the one to make the first move this time, even if it was just making awkward first date small talk.

“You-” “Have I-”

They both spoke at the same time.

“S-Sorry-” “Go on, my dearest-”

With an amused grin, the radio demon gestured for her to speak first.

“You were right about the cappuccinos being to die for,” she said as she nervously traced the rim of her cup. “I’m… I’m really glad I came here with you, Al.”

“As am I, Charlie.” His mouth wriggled as he considered his next words. “Perhaps this could become a regular occurrence for us.”

“Getting coffee together?”

“Why, yes. A weekly caffeinated reprieve, just you and me.”

Her cheeks ached from how broad her smile was. “I’d really like that.”

Something sincere twinkled in his eyes, then one of his eyebrows quirked up playfully. “Hopefully next time I can get you to order a real cup of joe and not that ice-cold, sugar-filled abomination you call a beverage.”

Charlie looked down at her cappuccino, then back up at the radio demon’s teasing smirk. She pouted at him. “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it! It’s actually really tasty! Better than that boiled dirt you’re drinking.” She pushed her cup towards him, encouraging him to take a sip.

“The only proper cup of coffee is one hot enough to burn a hole through your tongue. Anything cooler than that should be considered a cardinal sin.” He took the drink in his hands and raised it to his lips. “But I’ll indulge you this once, darling.”

She watched as he took a swig and the liquid worked down his throat. His brow knitted, then he placed the cup back on the table.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

Eyes wide with alarm, Alastor stared down at the drink as if he had just been poisoned. A beat passed before he spoke.

“That was fucking delicious.”

“Told you so!”

She gave an affectionate chuckle as she watched him take a few more gulps before passing the beverage back to her. The awkward tension of their first date officially diffused, the pair fell into easy conversation. Charlie learned more about Alastor’s solo trip to heaven. How that asshole Urrie had showed up to the emergency council meeting in a neck brace, but the meeting ran so long that he eventually got sick of pretending he was injured and took it off. She shared her plans to ramp up their recruitment nights in the hopes that the permaban on exterminations would bring some new faces to the hotel.

She was bouncing ideas for a new hotel slogan off him when she realized he had stopped responding. With his head propped up on his hand, he was staring at her with a coy smile, mind wandered off somewhere pleasant.

“What is it?”

“Have I ever told you how lovely you look in that particular shade of red?”

Charlie completely forgot what she was talking about as she felt her face flush that same color. “N-No, you haven’t.”

“Well, you do.” He winked at her. “Absolutely stunning.”

She smoothed down the wrinkles on her suit jacket. “This is the same thing I wear almost every day.”

“I know. And you look lovely in it almost every day.”

She put her hand to her cheek and it practically sizzled like a fried egg from how hot her face had gotten. Alastor was always a smooth talker, but now that he was blatantly flirting with her, she was quick to melt into a blushing mess.

“You look nice too. Is that a new dress coat?”

“Same one, just gave it a good ironing.”

His entire ensemble looked freshly cleaned and ironed. Not that the radio demon would ever dare to look slobby, but his usual attire always had a feral flair to it. A few too many torn hems and blood stains that made it seem like he was always coming from some nefarious activity. Though his hair was a bit more disheveled than normal. It looked like he had attempted to slick it back, then changed his mind. She smiled to herself, deciding not to comment on that.

There was a whiff of something sharp and fresh in the air. “Is that mint? Did you take a tumble in the hotel garden again?” she teased.

Alastor curiously sniffed the lapel of his jacket. “Ah, that must be my toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste?” she laughed. “I didn’t realize you even owned a toothbrush!”

He crossed his arms. “Now I take offense to that! Just because I don’t have pearly-white chompers like all the vanity-obsessed, bleach-drinking sycophants down here doesn’t mean I don’t have good dental hygiene.”

“Uh huh.” She resting her elbows on the table and leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Maybe you were just expecting a kiss at the end of this date.”

His grin tugged on one side as his eyes glinted mischievously. “Maybe I was expecting one a little sooner.”

Reaching across the table, he caught her chin with his hand and closed the distance between them. As her lips parted in anticipation to meet his, they heard shouting and the sound of glass breaking. Both whipped their heads towards the café counter.

“You literal ass muncher! Maybe eat some brains next time because you obviously don’t have any yourself! I wanted a double espresso macchiato. Caramel on the sides, not the bottom. Extra hot, extra dry. A pump of hazelnut, half a pump of vanilla. Cold foam heated up. With a sprinkle of sea salt. It’s not that fucking hard!”

“Oh shit,” Charlie muttered. “That’s Katie Killjoy.”

They watched as the poor barista, who was now covered in syrup, whipped cream, and scalding hot coffee, rushed to make a replacement drink for the domineering news anchor.

After snatching her overly complicated order and demanding a refund anyways, Katie tossed a few slurs at the barista and turned to leave. She stopped, noticing who was sitting in front of the window. Her stiletto heels clacked loudly against the floor as she stomped over to where Charlie was sitting.

“Princess Morningstar,” she greeted curtly. “I hear I have you to thank for killing our highest rated newscast of the year.”

“Err, sorry?”

“You just had to get rid of the exterminations, didn’t you? The one day a year when everyone in hell tuned into our station to watch the carnage.”

“You can’t seriously be mad they’ve been abolished?” Charlie shot back. “Thousands upon thousands of people died every year!”

“Yeah, and we made a fuck ton of money from it.”

“Maybe you can find something better to report on, Katie. Like all the folks at our hotel who’ve been working to improve themselves!”

“A lot of good it’s done them. From what I’ve heard, the only sinner you’ve managed to smuggle into heaven was that slithery overlord wannabe who got himself blown up.”

Charlie scowled at her. “Pentious died trying to protect his friends!”

Katie had finished her drink and crushed down her empty cup on Charlie and Alastor’s table. “I also heard this whole redemption thing is a total scam and that guy getting into heaven was just some bullshit PR stunt.”

“Believe whatever you want. You’ll be begging for an interview when our hotel guests start getting redeemed faster than we can check them in.”

“I’ll eat my own ass if that happens.” She took a cigarette out of her pocket and stuck it in her mouth. “So what’s been going on for the princess of hell besides running her crack house? I heard that angel girlfriend of yours dumped you.”

“That’s none of your business,” Charlie snapped. “Why do you even care?”

Katie shrugged as she took a drag from her cigarette. “News has been slow since the boss man is still out of commission. Thanks for that too, by the way. So I figured some hot gossip about whoever’s carpet the princess is munching nowadays might entertain some viewers.”

Alastor, who had been sipping his coffee and enjoying the banter, suddenly sputtered into his drink, spraying hot liquid everywhere. He hit his fist against his chest a few times as a coughing fit seized him.

“J-Just… went down… the wrong pipe,” he choked out.

Katie grimaced with disgust and she grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe the coffee he had just spit on her. She looked between the pair and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I didn’t realize the radio demon was still freeloading off of you at that dumb hotel.”

Alastor was still recovered from his coughing fit, so Charlie immediately jumped to his defense. “If you bothered to learn anything about our hotel, you’d know that we’ve been running the place together since the beginning.”

“How cute.” Katie dropped her cigarette butt into Charlie’s half-finished cappuccino to extinguish it. She turned on her heels to leave. “Give our station a call if the place gets demolished again and everyone inside dies. Oh, and princess?” She glanced over her shoulder. When her eyes darted to Alastor, she sneered. “You can do better.”

Once the news anchor was outside, Charlie lunged up from her seat and stuck out her middle finger as she watched her disappear down the street. With a huff, she flopped back down in her chair.

“Well, that was a pleasant exchange,” Alastor commented. “I was half-hoping you’d get into another tussle with her.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“I can’t think of anything more enjoyable than getting a front row seat to watching you beat the snot out of one of Vox’s little news monkeys.”

The princess chuckled. She couldn’t tell if Alastor was being serious or not, but either way it made her feel better.

He stood up from his seat and offered her his hand. “We’ve still got some time before needing to show face back at the hotel. How about we stop by Rosie’s? Her shop should be opened by now.”

She beamed at him and eagerly took his hand. “That’s a great idea!”

“Alastor! Charlie!”

No sooner had the pair entered Rosie’s Emporium when its owner was hurriedly pushing through her crowd of customers to greet them. She yanked them both into a tight hug.

“Look at this! My favorite person bringing my second favorite person to come see me!” She winked. “I’ll have you two guess who’s who. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Alastor straightened out his dress coat once he was free of Rosie’s grip. “We were in your neck of the woods and figured we’d pop in to say hello.”

“What a treat! I haven’t seen you two since the overlord summit. And I’ve heard you’ve been quite busy at that hotel of yours! The neighborhood’s been in a tizzy all morning about heaven putting the kibosh on the exterminations.”

Charlie patted the radio demon’s arm. “We have Alastor to thank for that!”

“Now, now, darling, don’t sell yourself short,” he replied, squeezing her hand that was still on his arm. “I merely sealed the deal. You put in most of the work.”

Rosie hummed inquisitively behind pursed lips. She waggled a finger between the pair. “Something’s different with you two.” After studying them for a moment, her large black eyes grew even larger. “Oh! OH! It happened, didn’t it?! It finally happened!” She wrapped her arms around them again and squeezed them even tighter. “Oh ho ho, Alastor, you sly casanova! I knew you had it in you! Finally decided to take my advice and go get your gal?”

“Err, what advice?” Charlie asked.

“Or was it you Charlie who made the first move? I had a hunch back at the overlord summit that you’d caught feelings too. Never see anyone so moon-eyed for old Alastor here.”

Alastor glanced over at the princess. “Moon-eyed, you say?”

“Quite the pair of smitten kittens you two were!” Rosie continued to gush. “I had half a mind that night to lock you in a broom closet until you sorted things out.” She finally released them, then starting pushing them towards her back parlor. “I want to hear everything! Don’t spare me any details!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “Oo, I can hear the wedding bells already!”

The radio demon let out a rattly squeak. “Wedding bells?!”

Rosie ushered them to the plush loveseat in her parlor and then busied herself in her china cabinet while she prattled on about her matchmaking skills. As she brought a tray of tea and treats over to them, the dishes began clattering when a loud crash echoed out from the main shop.

She huffed in irritation and set the tray down. “That must be Louie our new stockboy. The kid’s broken more inventory than he’s managed to shelf. I’ll be right back. You two lovebirds make yourselves comfortable.” She smirked and shook a finger at them. “But no canoodling while I’m gone!”

Alastor felt his neck prickle with heat. “Rosie! That’s… that’s quite a bold assumption to make that we would even consider-”

“I mean it, Alastor! I just got the furniture in here reupholstered.” She gathered up her skirt and headed out to the shop, leaving the pair alone in her back parlor.

Alastor folded his hands in his lap and began twiddling his thumbs. He glanced at Charlie sitting next to him and saw she was nervously twirling one of the strands of hair that framed her face.

“Rosie seems happy for us,” she said. “M-Maybe… umm… a little too happy. Wedding bells. That’s crazy, right?”

“Oh, you know Rosie,” he replied, failing to disguise the warble in his voice. “Always the hopeless romantic, that one.”

She laughed nervously and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve only been on one date. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.”

Alastor cocked his head as his smile spread wider. “Boyfriend?”

Her face turned as pink as her cheek markings. She looked away from him and rubbed the back of her neck. “S-Sorry. I know you probably think that sort of thing is silly.”

“Oh, Charlie. Have I not made my intentions clear?”

She shook her head in disbelief and just laughed. “You rarely do.”

“Well, darling. Let me erase any doubt from your mind.” He took her hands and enclosed them within his own. “I want to be with you.”

“You do?”

“It’ll be fun! Don’t you think?” He was trying to sound blasé, but his heart very well might hammer out of his chest before the princess could answer him. “What do you say?”

She smiled. “I want to be with you too, Alastor.”

“Hot diggity dog!”

The jingle broadcasted from somewhere deep inside him before he could get a word in edgewise. He cleared his throat and hit his fist against his chest a few times.

“Err, w-what I meant to say is that’s wonderful to hear!”

Charlie had covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle. “Does that happen a lot?” she asked.

“Only with you, my dearest.”

As if both wanting to seal the deal, they leaned in and met in a soft kiss. Their lips brushed against each other gently, testing the boundaries of their newly established relationship. Alastor watched as Charlie closed her eyes and he did the same, feeling her brace a hand against his chest as she scooted closer. His arm hooked around her waist, practically pulling her into his lap. He could feel her smiling against his mouth and he responded with a wet smack of his lips against hers.

“Hey!”

The sudden interruption spooked the couple and they jumped back from each other. Rosie stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She shook a scolding finger at them. “I said no canoodling!”

Bless her demonic heart, but chit-chatting with Rosie had been more of an interrogation than when Alastor stood before the angelic council. If not for Charlie pointing out that they needed to make it back in time for that afternoon’s group activity, they would have been held hostage in her back parlor until the wee hours of the night.

“That girl is quite taken with you,” Rosie whispered in his ear as she walked them to the shop doors. “Don’t you go breaking her heart now, Alastor.”

“Have some faith in me, Rosie dear.” His dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “When have I ever been anything less than a complete gentleman?”

“A relationship is not something you can disappear from for seven years, then come back and think you can just pick up right where you left off. It’s a commitment.” She poked him in the chest. “And you gotta put in the effort to make it work, honey.”

Admittedly, Alastor was far from an expert on matters of the heart. He could count on one hand the number of romantic relationships he’s had in his nearly century-and-a-half of existence. And that was only if the hand was a bloodied stump that was missing all of its fingers. He was well aware this was uncharted territory for him. But Rosie had nothing to worry about. He quite enjoyed Charlie’s company and had settled in comfortably at the hotel. He had no plans to skip town again anytime soon.

As they moseyed down the streets of Cannibal Town back towards the hotel, Alastor felt Charlie’s hand brush against his. He glanced down and felt warmth bloom in his chest as he watched her intertwine their fingers together. She smiled up at him, and he returned a genuine one of his own, as they continued walking hand-in-hand.

A row of ruby red rose bushes behind an iron fence lined the sidewalk they were currently on. With a dreamy hum, the princess ghosted her fingers over some of the petals. “Wish we could grow these at the hotel,” she murmured.

It was true. Cannibal Town was one of the only places in Pentagram City where all types of gardens were plentiful. He mused that was because of all the blood and bones in the ground. People did make the best fertilizer, after all.

Alastor reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. He positioned it over his fingers like a glove and pinched one of the rose stems. His nails were sharp enough, even through the fabric, to snip off the flower. Carefully not to touch it with his bare hands, he presented it to Charlie.

“A pretty flower for a pretty gal.”

She blushed at the gesture and daintily tucked the rose into her hair. “How thoughtful.”

“NOT AGAIN!”

They heard a gun cock and watched as someone hobbled down from the house to which the rose bushes belonged.

“Holy shit, is that Susan?!” Charlie exclaimed.

Susan was in a fluffy pink robe with her hair still in rollers, carrying a shotgun that was twice her size. She fired a warning shot into the air, causing Alastor and Charlie to duck behind the iron gate.

“Whoopsie! I… ah, may have forgotten this is her house,” he stammered.

“This is private property!” Susan hollered. “It’s my hell-given right to pump you full of buckshot!”

Alastor grabbed Charlie’s hand. “Time to shake a leg!” He pulled her to her feet and they broke into a mad sprint down the sidewalk.

“I’d know that fuck-ass bob anywhere! Alastor! Is that you? You better not be eating my roses again!”

“W-When… did you… E-EAT her roses?!” Charlie panted as they ran.

“I-It was… f-fifty years ago,” Alastor grunted. “A-And I was… d-drunk… off my hooves… on bad hooch.”

As another gunshot rang out down the street, the princess yelped and clutched tighter to his hand.

“Hang on,” he said as he slung his arm around her waist.

“Wait, what are you-?! O-OH!”

She squeaked in surprise as the radio demon, not missing a step in his stride, scooped her into his arms and the pair disappeared in a whirlwind of black smoke. They reappeared a moment later in an alleyway on the outskirts of Cannibal Town. Alastor had Charlie pinned against the wall, trying to blend in with the shadows so no one would spot them. He put a finger to his lips as he listened for the sound of Susan’s shotgun. After a few minutes of silence, they both relaxed and began laughing.

“Is there anyone else in this town that you have some decades-long feud with that I don’t know about?” Charlie asked.

“It would be easier to give you a list of people I haven’t managed to piss off yet.”

They were still pressed closely together and he could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his as she caught her breath. It was hard to ignore how nice it felt, the softness of her breasts squished against his chest. His knee was between her legs and she was practically straddling his thigh. Her hands were still clinging to his shoulders and she raised them to cradle his face. As her thumbs caressed against the hollow pockets of his cheeks, he couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering at the delicate touch. Every part of him itched and ached to be even closer to her. His hands were on her waist and he slid them down slowly, as far as he would dare, over the swell of her hips.

“Some first date, huh?” he murmured.

“It’s about what I expected with you,” she whispered back.

Their lips crashed together in an eager kiss. Alastor’s mouth devoured hers, greedily drinking in as much of her at once as he could. The taste of the cappuccino she had earlier was still on her lips and his tongue darted out to savor the sweetness. Charlie opened her mouth for him, her own tongue expertly tracing a path along his lips and teeth. He tried not to think about how much more experienced at this she was than him, of all the people she’s kissed before him that gave her that experience. All those insecurities melted into a puddle of goo in his brain when she plunged her tongue down his throat. He could do nothing to stop the staticky groan that erupted out of him as something hotter than hellfire ignited in his stomach.

When they pulled away, he instinctively chased her lips, landing a few more quick pecks before finally conceding. She was still holding his face in her hands and brushed her knuckle against the corner of his mouth to clean the bit of spit that was dribbling out of it.

“We should really head back to the hotel before anyone notices that we’re both missing,” she said.

He chuckled as he ran his fingers through the tousled strands of her hair. “It would be quite scandalous if our guests found out their fearless leader was late to her own morality lesson because she was busy necking her business partner in some seedy back alleyway.”

It was a short trip back to the hotel from there and a peculiar silence had fallen upon the princess for most of the walk. As they reached the gates that surrounding the hotel grounds, she stopped before crossing the threshold.

“I’ve been thinking, Alastor,” she began. “Maybe it would be best if we kept our relationship under wraps for now. At least until the hotel gets back on its feet.”

“You want to keep it a secret?”

“Just for a little while,” she explained. “Give me some time to figure out the best way to tell everyone. Especially my dad.” She let out a strained laugh. “I’ll need to ease him into the idea so he doesn’t immediately rip your head off."

“Or other parts of me,” Alastor muttered under his breath.

“And I can’t imagine the field day Katie Killjoy would have if she found out. Or if word got to heaven? What if they change their minds AGAIN and-”

“Charlie.” He placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her before she could spiral too far in her ramblings. “It’s alright. We’ll tell people when you feel ready to do so.”

“So you’re really okay with this?”

His smile curled mischievously. “I’m quite keen on the idea of sneaking around, actually. It’s literally my favorite thing to do.”

She shook her head at that, but her expression had softened with gratitude. As they stepped through the gates, they both stared up at the brightly lit marquee.

“I guess it would be best if we go in separately,” Charlie suggested.

“You go on. I’ll pop up to my radio tower and pretend I never even left.”

She nodded and took a few steps towards the hotel. Stopping, she looked back at him and grinned.

“Make sure to clean all that lipstick off your face before anyone sees you.”

Chapter Text

As her bedroom door closed with a soft click and her hand left the doorknob, Charlie was unfazed by the low pulsing of the hallway lights, the flicker of shadows that passed in her peripheries, and the formless lips that pressed against her cheek. As he did every morning, Alastor materialized the moment she left her room and greeted her with a quick peck on the cheek.

“Good morning, my dearest!” he sang cheerfully before offering her his arm. “Slept well, I hope?”

She looped her arm through his as they headed towards the elevator. “If you’re asking if I had another late-night planning session, the answer is no. Angel’s actually in charge of today’s group activity!”

His smile widened. “I’m quite pleased you took my advice about delegating more responsibilities to our eager-to-please guests. Always good for a busy lady like yourself to get her beauty rest.” He winked at her. “Not that you need it, of course.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but felt her cheeks warm at the compliment. The radio demon had a knack for striking the perfect balance between flattery, teasing, and genuine care.

Having reaching the end of the hallway, Alastor tapped the elevator button and hummed along to the dings of the floor indicator. He braced an arm against the door as she stepped inside, then leaned over the threshold, eyes narrowed with a smarmy expectancy. And as was their routine, Charlie rose off her heels and met him in a proper kiss. He let out a soft hum of delight, which buzzed between their closed lips.

The elevator door rattled in protest against his hand, and that was usually their signal to pull away. But this time, something compelled the princess to prolong their fleeting moment of physical affection. She hooked a finger in the cross-section of his suspenders and tugged him a little closer. Taking a step into the elevator, his mouth parted eagerly as they both pressed deeper into the kiss. The door squeaked and struggled against his hand, and when she heard the ear-splitting sound of his claws scraping against the metal, it sent a jolt of excitement down her spine.

“Hah…” The radio demon broke away with a pant, color creeping up his ashen neck. His fingers had sunken into the holes he tore in the elevator door and he hastily wriggled them free. He stepped back out into the hallway, tugging on his lapels as he regained his composure.

“Well then! Shall we get going? I’ll see you at breakfast, business partner.” He teased the last words as his form began to dissolve into a black haze. The last thing Charlie saw was his fading smile before the elevator door closed.

With a small sigh, she leaned against the handrail and touched two fingers to her lips. She could still feel the faint burn of Alastor’s mouth against hers, remnants from the concoction of whiskey and meat and who knows what else he had the night prior.

It’s been nearly a month since they made things official and things were going surprisingly well. Not that she was expecting otherwise, but this was Alastor she was dealing with, and she knew dating him would be anything but boring.

They’ve somehow managed to keep their relationship a secret from everyone at the hotel, and although she’s been dragging her feet about telling her father, Alastor didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Admittedly, she enjoyed the quiet easiness of their relationship. He greets her in the mornings with a kiss and some light banter before they head down separately to breakfast. They go about their daily hotel duties as they always have, then spend their evenings together in his radio tower, her room, or wherever else in the hotel they know they won’t be disturbed.

They have their coffee dates and trips to Cannibal Town, all under the guise of hotel business. Rosie loved to play the doting chaperone to their budding romance, and after they told her they were keeping things on the down low for now, she was all too excited for the role of confidant as well.

In a lot of ways, it feels like their relationship hadn’t changed at all. And that’s the goal, right? To feel so comfortable with your partner that it doesn’t feel like dating. You feel like a permanent fixture in each other’s lives. A constant comfort. A beacon of stability when the world around you can so easily erupt into chaos. Charlie was grateful that her friendship with the radio demon was a strong foundation for this new phase of their relationship.

But at the same time, it was incredibly frustrating.

Because being in an intimate relationship with someone usually meant there was… you know… intimacy.

Alastor certainly wasn’t shy about physical affection. Even in the company of others, he was always finding some excuse to touch her. While she helped Niffty in the kitchen, she’d feel his chest press gently against her as he inspected what they were cooking. He’d slink up beside her during one of her lectures and rest his hand on the small of her back while chiming in with his two cents. Anytime they sat together, at meals or group activities or wherever else, his boot would knock against hers a few too many times to be accidental.

He’s always been a bit handsy with her and she thought it would just be a matter of time before he initiated something more. But when they were alone together, there was a calculated caution to his ministrations. Eyes that burned down her form, but never spurred action. Hands that trembled on her waist but never wandered. Lips that were desperate for hers but never allowed themselves to be fully satiated. On some nights, she had gathered the courage to invite him to stay, and his brow would pinch painfully for a moment before he made up some excuse to why he couldn’t.

For a man so brazen in his hellish indulgences, it was rare to see him exhibit so much self-control. Maybe he was just old-fashioned about this kind of stuff. Or maybe he was more worried about getting caught than he let on. Whatever the reason, Charlie knew she just had to be patient. Besides, she liked how uncomplicated things were for them right now. Maybe it was a good thing they haven’t rushed into a physical relationship.

As the princess entered the kitchen, her nose scrunched from the peculiar smell. She found Niffty at the stove, cackling under her breath as she stabbed at whatever was sizzling in the pan. Oil and bits of something suspiciously red were splattered all over the counter.

“What’s, uhh… for breakfast, Niffty?” Charlie asked nervously.

“Blood sausage!” the tiny bug woman responded cheerfully. She skewered one of them onto a fork and brandished it proudly as it dripped blood onto her apron.

“That sounds… umm… very nutritious,” Charlie replied. She pulled two mugs out of the cupboard, leaving one on the counter, before fixing herself a cup of coffee. Just as she sat down and took her first sip, the corner of the kitchen darkened and Alastor crept up from the shadows. He winked at her.

“A pleasant morning to everyone here!” he said to the room. “All of whom I am just now seeing for the first time today.” He sauntered over to where his mug was waiting for him. “Whatever you’re cooking smells divine, Niffty dear!”

“Thank you, sir!” She shot a deathly glare at the other hotel guests who were poking skeptically at the contents of their plates.

Angel Dust, who had been sitting next to Charlie, pushed his plate away and stood up. “Niff, you know I love a good blood-filled sausage as much as the next guy, but this shit is disgusting.”

Alastor was quick, but not too quick, to claim the vacant spot. She shivered as she felt his boot rub against the back of her calf, hiking up her pant leg to graze just above her sock on her bare skin. He then hooked his hoof under the footrest of the stool to pull it out. Plopping down on his seat, he immediately began digging into his bloody breakfast.

As she began buttering her toast, Charlie couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the radio demon. She felt a little queasy watching the blood drip down his fork and onto his hand before he popped the piece of sausage into his mouth. He took a few more bites, then put his utensil down and inspected the mess on his hand.

When his tongue darted out to clean his fingers, she became so distracted that she nearly cut her plate in half with the butter knife. He pressed his tongue flat against his palm and licked up towards his thumb, taking the digit in his mouth for a second before releasing it with a faint pop. He did the same with each of his fingers, the slimy appendage coiling like a snake around each of them. The princess sucked a sharp breath between her teeth as she watched him, heart racing as she tried not to think about how long and dexterous his tongue was.

Alastor spread out his hand and looked at the blood that had coagulated in the crevice between his index and middle finger. His tongue wriggled into the V-shape that the two digits formed, peeking out the other side as it lapped up the red liquid. Charlie’s eyes shot wide and she nearly fell off her stool. Heat bubbled low in her belly and she didn’t realize how tightly she had been squeezing her thighs together until one of her legs started to cramp. Her bottom lip was raw from how hard she had been chewing on it and she couldn’t stop the whine that squeaked out of her when his tongue darted out once more between the two fingers.

His ears twitched at the noise and he looked at Charlie, eyes scrunching closed as he gave her an innocent, unassuming grin. She returned one, then tried to focus on her now mangled toast, ignoring how her heart was pounding, ignoring the lewd thoughts about all the other things that tongue was surely capable of, ignoring how insanely turned she was from just watching the radio demon eat his breakfast.

Being patient was going to be a lot harder than she thought.

“Did you print enough worksheets for everyone?”

“Yup, took take of that.”

“And pens?”

“Got those too.”

“What about the projector? Did you test to make sure it’s working?”

“Husk helped me with that earlier.”

“Oh! We should grab some snacks!”

“Heather offered to be on popcorn duty.”

“Do you think there’s enough chairs for everyone?”

“Charlie!” Angel Dust had been fiddling with the settings on the projector as he answered the princess’s barrage of questions. He tossed an irritated look over his shoulder at her. “Are you gonna let me run this thing on my own or not?”

“Sorry!” She had been hovering over him and slowly backed away. “Of course, I’ll let you do your thing, Angel.”

Charlie snagged a bag of popcorn from Heather and sat down on the couch as she watched Angel finish setting up for the movie he was showing. As the hotel guests began filtering in, he handed each of them a worksheet before they took their seats.

“C’mon! Piece of junk,” Angel grumbled as he whacked the flickering projector. Charlie knew who the culprit of that was and she watched the radio demon’s shadow pass over the makeshift screen on the wall like it was a part of the movie. Alastor materialized a moment later, narrowed eyes scanning the room before landing on Charlie. Tucking his hands behind his back, he approached the couch and peered down at Ted the lizard pervert, who was sitting next to her.

Alastor didn’t need to say anything. Ted slithered down to the floor and scurried off to find another place to sit. With a satisfied hum, he flipped out the tail of his dress coat and took a seat next to the princess. Making himself comfortable, he dug his hand into her bag of popcorn and tossed a few pieces into his mouth.

She smirked at him. “I thought you hated these movie nights.”

“I do,” he replied. “But I hate missing an opportunity to spend time with you even more.” He tapped her on the nose before stealing another handful of popcorn.

The opening credits of the movie began playing and everyone turned their attention to Angel Dust, who was standing in front of the screen. Charlie gave him a pair of thumbs up before he starting speaking.

“Alright, folks! I got a good one for you tonight. Adventure, romance, sacrificing everything for the one you love.” He motioned dramatically with all four of his hands. “Be prepared to laugh, cry, and maybe get a little horny.”

“Err, what was that last part?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, and make sure to fill out those worksheets. We’re gonna talk about the movie themes or whatever afterwards. Charlie said we have to. Anyways, enjoy!”

As the title card faded into the opening scene, Alastor let out a loud yawn and stretched out his arms. One of them fell to rest on the back of the couch, enclosing the princess in a half embrace. She gave him a look that silent said I know what you’re doing, but he had an innocent smile plastered on his face and was looking ahead, pretending to be interested in the movie. 

Ten minutes of exposition later, Charlie still couldn’t make sense of the movie’s plot. She was about to whispered to Alastor if he had any idea what was going on when suddenly everyone on the screen was naked.

“So are you telling me I need to fuck my way through every circle of hell?”

“That’s right, Dante. Tempering that hot demon puss is the only way out of here!”

Charlie shot up from her seat and lunged for the projector, frantically covering its lens with her hands. She may have censored the lewd images that had just been displayed, but the sounds coming from the speakers painted a vivid picture of what was happening.

“Aww, it was just getting interesting,” whined Ted.

“Angel, what the fuck?!” she exclaimed. “Is this a porno?!”

Angel Dust threw up his hands in defense. “Hey, all you said was I had to pick a movie that had some dumb moral lesson to it. You didn’t say nothing about no pornos.”

She scrubbed a hand down her face. “I figured it was implied!”

“It has a good story! Just give it a chance, Charlie.”

There were murmurs of agreement among the group. She sighed in resignation. “Okay, fine. Can we at least fast forward through the sex scenes?”

“Eh, then we’d be skipping about eighty percent of it.”

“Of a THREE-hour movie?!”

“What! The sex is important to the plot and character development!”

Charlie could feel her cheeks heat up as a loud moan emanated from the speakers. Daring a glance at the radio demon, she saw he was preoccupied with picking at a kernel that had gotten stuck between his teeth. Otherwise, he seemed completely unbothered. The sound of screeching and skin slapping against skin accompanied her walk back to the couch.

“Will those harpies give me herpes, Virgil?”

“Yeah, probably. Totally worth it though.”

She avoided eye contact with Alastor as she sat down next to him and sunk back into the cushions. Of all the unusual things she expected from their relationship, she didn’t think she’d be watching a porno with her boyfriend before they even reached second base.

As the movie progressed, Charlie did have to give Angel some credit. Its story was very compelling. Though each time she starting getting into it, she was suddenly jumpscared with more genitalia than she’s seen in all of her several centuries of life. A herd of fully erect centaurs who the protagonist rode and then let ride him. A giant demoness with four humongous breasts that she swung around like a double pair of bolas. An army of sentient vibrators that was definitely a blatant ad placement for Valentino’s “fallen angel” brand of sex toys. Each scene had her covering her face with her hands and resisting the urge to take a peek at Alastor sitting next to her. The few times she did, he had a completely vacant smile on his face, apparently unfazed by what he was watching. Was he even watching at all? Maybe he had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

“Beatrice, my love! To see you again makes both my heart and my dick swell infinitely larger!”

“Oh, Dante! You may have fucked every demon in hell, but here in heaven, I’ll be the only one to whom you make love!”

Charlie wriggled uncomfortably in her seat as the soft, sensual sex scene played out between the protagonist and his love interest. This was somehow so much worse than the endless fuck fests. Alastor still had his arm slung along the back of the couch and she felt his fingers twitch against her shoulder. Glancing at him, she saw there was a slight rise to his eyebrows. His eyes darted to her, and when their gaze met, they both quickly looked away.

The movie ended a short while later and after Angel Dust led a surprisingly thoughtful discussion about love and redemption, everyone said their goodnights. Charlie lingered behind to help him clean up the papers and popcorn that littered the carpet.

“I have to admit, Angel. You have a real knack for movie analysis!”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Eh, you think so?”

“We should make this an ongoing thing! Monthly Movie Musings with Angel Dust. Or maybe something less wordy. Cinephile Sinners!”

“How about Voxflix and Vent?” he offered.

“That’s a good one!” She wagged at finger at him. “But we’re not renewing our Voxflix subscription.”

“Their selection is trash nowadays anyways. I assume I’d need to keep things PG?”

She shook her head. “I trust your judgement.”

Angel smiled warmly. “Thanks, Charlie.” He glanced behind her to where Alastor was loitering by the lobby staircase and his smile twisted into a smirk. “I’m sure you’ve got a busy night doing whatever it is you do once the rest of us go to bed. I’ll leave you to it." As he headed towards the stairs, he shot the radio demon a double set of finger guns before ascending.

Alastor looked puzzled by the interaction, but shrugged it off before linking his arm with Charlie’s and escorting her back to her room. They always took the long way at night, savoring the rare moment of peace and quiet when they could roam the hotel hallways together without rousing anyone’s suspicions. She found herself clutching extra tightly to his arm. Her heart thrummed loudly in her chest, and if not for the soft thuds of their hooves against the carpet, she was sure he’d be able to hear it. They came to a stop in front of her door, neither saying anything, nor separating from each other, nor reaching for the door handle.

“Do you… wanna come in for bit?” she asked timidly.

Something flashed across his expression and the muscles in his neck flexed. His smile went crooked as he politely patted her arm. “Another time, my dearest, when it’s not so late. I’m afraid the mental fortitude it took to sit through that three-hour assault on my eyeballs has utterly exhausted me. I’d be piss-poor company.”

“Y-Yeah, that movie was… umm…”

“Quite unconventional for a morality lesson,” he finished for her. “O-Or so I would assume!” he quickly added. “I completely disassociated about ten minutes in.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, she looked down at the handle of her door, but still didn’t reach for it. So badly did she want to ask him to stay the night. She didn’t even have any ulterior motive. She just wanted to enjoy his company, to snuggle up next to him and fall asleep together, to wake up the next morning with his arms wrapped around her. But she knew he’d turn her down, like he always does, and go back to his radio tower where he’d contort himself like a restless housecat onto some ratty piece of furniture, if he even bothered sleeping at all.

“Well, goodnight, Al.”

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

They shared a soft kiss. After a few seconds, Charlie began to pull away, then stopped. Their lips were barely touching and Alastor cocked his head, curious at her behavior, though he made no motion to pull back further. She leaned in, capturing his lips again, this time a little firmer. Her hands landed on his chest and slinked up around his neck. She pressed deeper into their kiss, prodding the seam of his lips with her tongue to request entry. He quickly obliged, his own tongue darting out to wrangle with hers. His hands snapped to her waist, grip tightening as he yanked her closer and wrapped his arms around her possessively.

She was dizzy with want and finding it difficult to breathe. Every gasp of air was met with a fervent kiss as he messily dragged his lips against hers. She weaved a hand through his hair, twisting the red and black locks around and around her fingers until they were completely entangled. Her other hand raked down his back, fingernails catching on the loose threads of his jacket. Through the layers of fabric, she could feel the contour of his spine. As she dragged her nails over the bony bumps, a shudder wracked through him, hissing out between his teeth like steam from an engine. His hands had begun to roam, exploring her back, ghosting as close to her breasts as his gentlemanly tendencies would allow, before anchoring firmly on her waist again. He dragged her flush against him and his own hips surged forward, pressing something hard against her stomach.

“Oh!” Charlie squeaked in surprise and broke from their kiss. She glanced down to confirm what had just poked her.

A very obvious erection was protruding out from between the radio demon’s legs, straining so hard against his trousers that it looked like it was about to rip right through the fabric. They both looked down at it, then up at each other, and Alastor tore away from her, hunching over in a futile attempt to hide his shame.

“Ah! I… I…” His voice cracked harshly out of its radio filter, the residual feedback screeching through the air and causing the hallway lights to flicker. “A-Apologies! How… how very unbecoming of me. Do pardon my… err… inappropriate levels of enthusiasm.” He ran a hand through his hair, face nearly as red as the rest of him. He glanced down the opposite end of the corridor and looked like he wanted to melt into the floor and disappear forever.

“It’s okay!” The princess quickly assured him. “It’s really okay! You don’t need to apologize. It’s… it’s actually…”

The tension between them was thick and stifling like the air before a thunderstorm. Then like a crack of lightning, she surged forward to break that tension, gripping him by the lapels and dragging him into another kiss. She threw herself at him, desperate in her want of him, desperate for him to know how badly she wanted him.

Then suddenly she was lifted off the ground and slammed against the wall. The painting next to her head fell to the floor with a wooden crack. She couldn’t remember if it was one of the ones her mother had given her. In this moment, she didn’t really care. Her thighs snapped on either side of his waist and she gasped when she felt his erection slide up the plane of her stomach.

“Charlie...” Her name was a low, guttural growl, a sound that filled her head with static and made the spot between her legs throb with need. It was a confession and a warning and an expression of affection all in one.

Alastor attacked her mouth like a starved animal ripping at a fresh carcass. Spit and ichor dripped from his lips as he sunk his teeth into her bottom lip. Her vision speckled from the heady mix of pain and pleasure and she let out a whine, tasting the metallic tang of her own blood. He relented, only to suck the wounded flesh into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue in an attempt to either soothe her pain or satiate his own cravings. Knowing him, it was probably both.

Charlie pulled away slightly and ignored his grunt of disapproval as his mouth chased hers. She peppered sloppy kisses along his jawline before dragging her teeth down his neck. Lips stinging from the salt of his sweat, she breathed a soft moan against his heated flesh. He tasted just like he smelled, that mix of earth and spice, something both wild and sophisticated. She bit softly into his neck and sucked the skin into her mouth, knowing it was a bad idea to give him such a noticeable blemish, but wanting to leave proof that he had allowed someone, had allowed her, to get this close to him.

“Cha-ah!” Her name was lost as his voice gave out to a ragged moan, a rush of static that sent a flurry of goosebumps over her skin.

His entire body shook with the desperation of a man trying not to lose control, and despite how his arousal was pressed against her and throbbing relentlessly, he didn’t dare move. Her own need was coiling tightly in her core and she rolled her hips against him, eager to create more friction between them. He hissed and sunk his claws into her hips, using the leverage to buck once, twice against her.

Charlie’s hand smacked against the wall as she fumbled for the handle of her bedroom door, having every intention to drag the radio demon inside and continue what they were doing. Her trembling fingers slipped against the doorknob a few times before finally finding purchase.

Click!

The sound of the lock snapped Alastor back to his senses and he ripped away from her, throwing himself back against the opposite wall. He was panting, neck twisted at an unnatural angle and claws longer than they should be. His antlers looked heavy atop his head, gnarled together like the broken branches of a dead tree. Feral red eyes, small inside their pitch-black sockets, stared her down like she was both the prey he was hunting and the predator hunting him.

“I-I…” His voice warbled high and low, unable to settle on a frequency. “I have to go.”

The princess barely had a chance to register what had just happened before darkness engulfed the hallway and he was gone.

Alastor burst out of his shadows into his radio tower a few moments later. He stumbled blindly, tripping over a pile of piano rolls and careening headfirst into his fireplace. His hands shot out to brace against the mantle, catching himself before he cracked his skull open. He pinched his eyes shut as he tried to calm down. Each labor breath made his chest burn and his head pound, like someone had punctured a hole in his lungs and squeezed all the air out of them. But that pain was the only distraction he had from the maddening desire he had almost just let consume him.

He put a hand to his neck, pressing two fingers into the sensitive flesh. Charlie’s touch lingered there like a phantom imprint, the press of her lips, the sting of her teeth, the heat of her breath. He brought his hand to his mouth and bit hard into his knuckle, nearly severing his finger.

His erection pulsed angrily in his trousers, harder than ever and begging for the release it was so close to achieving. He banged his fist against the mantle, fighting the overwhelming urge to relief himself of this unbearable need.

Hell was a place of unabashed indulgences and Alastor was certainly not one to deny himself both earthly and otherworldly pleasures. He knew he was doomed to an existence of insatiable hunger, be it for violence, entertainment, or just something fresh and bloody to fill his belly. But these vices were controllable. Easily satisfied and just as easily ignored if he wasn’t in the mood to deal with them.

But what he felt now? It was completely different. This wasn’t a bad mood he could brighten by skewering a few heads on a tendril. Or a listless mind he could stimulate with a few lively jazz records. Or an empty stomach he could fill with a few treats from the Cannibal Town butcher.

It was bitter torture, the desperate want he had for Charlie. This hunger had permeated deep in his bones, had utterly consumed what little part of his soul still belonged to him. The longer he starved himself, the worst his appetite grew. And unlike his other desires, so superficial in their nature, so fleeting in their fulfillment, this one he was terrified to indulge in. Because once he started, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop until there was nothing left of her. Ruinous was his nature. He doesn’t know how to want something without devouring it whole.

He tried to clear his head, tried to get control of himself, but his brain and cock were conspiring against him. All he could think about was that moment with Charlie. Pinning her to the wall, tasting her on his lips, feeling her fingernails scrape down his back while she grinded against him. He could have taken her, right there in the hallway. She would have let him. She was practically begging him to.

Choking back a whimper, he felt a dribble of cum escape the tip of his cock and add to the mess that was already inside his trousers. He was so close, it would only take a stroke or two to finish himself off. His fists clenched and unclenched as he spiraled towards defeat against his own will.

He couldn’t.

He shouldn’t.

He was only going to make this whole situation worse for himself if he did.

The last bit of resolve Alastor had shattered and he tugged frantically at his pants to undo them, not bothering to loosen his suspenders or fully unzip his fly. Just the motion of freeing his cock from his trousers was enough to push him over the edge. He came with a loud groan, knees buckling as thick ropes of the hot white liquid erupted from him. Gripping his shaft, he pumped himself to completion.

As he let his orgasm overwhelm his senses, he was brought back to that hallway, back to Charlie. He imagined he had let her drag him inside her room, that it was her fingers wrapped around his cock, that he was currently painting all that pretty porcelain skin of hers a different shade of white.

Physically spent and mentally wrecked, the radio demon sank down onto his haunches and stared at the puddle of shame he had just left on the floor. It made him queasy to look at, and with a snap of his fingers, the offensive mess vanished.

He sat back on the floor and put his head in his hands, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time he succumbed to his desires.

Charlie stared bleary-eyed at the canopy above her, counting the rows of embroidered apples in the hopes it would help her fall asleep. She fidgeted restlessly on her bed, trying to get comfortable. Her pajamas had twisted awkwardly around her body as she had been tossing and turning for the last two hours, wide awake and mind reeling.

All she could think about was Alastor and their moment together in the hallway earlier that night. She kept replying it over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what she did wrong. Had she been too forward with him? Was it too much, too fast? She had been the one to initiate, but he seemed more than eager to reciprocate, up until he freaked out and disappeared. Had she crossed some unseen line by trying to push things further?

She wished she could just talk to him about it. Even considered going up to his radio tower to confront him, despite it being the middle of the night. She ultimately decided that was a bad idea and instead create a mental checklist of all the different ways she could address the situation. But Charlie knew Alastor. And if him vanishing faster than a bunny in a magician’s top hat was any indication, this was NOT something he wanted to talk about.

He had a knack for dancing around conversation topics he wasn’t comfortable with. Sometimes quite literally. She’d prod into his personal life and then suddenly swing music was blaring in her ears and he had pulled her into some quick-stepped distraction on an impromptu dance floor.

She was used to that and had accepted that the radio demon would open up to her at his own pace. But this wasn’t her being nosy about his life as a human, or his history with Vox, or whatever he was up to before he came to the hotel. This was about the present. This was about them.

With a sigh, she turned onto her side and reached for the pillow lying next to her – Alastor’s pillow, though she had yet to call it that in front of him. Nor had she admitted to him how often she cuddled with it at night, how his comforting scent would lull her into a deep sleep filled with dreams of him. That woodsy, meaty smell had started to permeate into her blankets as well.

The last time he had been in her room was a few days ago. He had sprawled out on her bed while she finished some work at her desk, purposely annoying her as he so liked to do. She had scolded him and kicked him out so she could focus. She wanted to kick herself for that now, for not tossing all her work aside, cuddling up with him on the bed, and letting him distract her for as long as he liked.

Her mind drifted back to their fleeting moment of passion. Seeing him lose control like that, if only for a brief instance, it was both terrifying and tantalizing. She could feel bruises forming on her shoulder blades from how hard he had shoved her against the wall. Her bottom lip was still tender from the thrashing he gave it with his teeth. One of her fingernails had chipped and there was red fuzz from his jacket trapped underneath it.

Charlie squeezed her thighs together as she remembered the taste of his sweat, the staticky rattle of his groans, the evidence of his desire pressed against her stomach. She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into his pillow. As she breathed in his scent, her hips rolled gently against the mattress. Her own pent-up desire had been a persistent pulse between her legs, unrelenting in its reminder of how badly she wanted him.

She slipped a hand between her thighs and began rocking against it. Even through her pajama bottoms, she could feel the damp heat of her arousal. She just needed to take the edge off, then she’d be able to get some rest and have a clearer mind about all this in the morning.

Her hips rose off the bed to get better leverage as the ache in her core grew stronger. Breaching the waistband of her pajama bottoms, she let out a needy whine as her fingers stroked her folds over her panties. Wetness seeped into the already damp fabric. She scraped two fingers over her clothed clit, pretending it was the radio demon’s hand and not her own. She mapped lazy circles around the small bundle of nerves, legs trembling as her body pleaded for more, but she knew this is how he would touch her. She could practically hear his teasing voice in her ear, chastising her for her impatience, goading her to beg him for more.

“P-Please, Al…” The princess almost didn’t realize she had voiced the plea out loud.

She increased her pace, giving long strokes up and down her clothed cunt as her hips swayed in tandem with the motion. Her free hand snaked under her pajama top and she cupped her breast. Her hands were much smaller than Alastor’s, and as she groped at the soft flesh that spilled out of her palm, she realized how easy it would be for him to take the entire thing in his hand. She moaned at the thought as she pinched and pulled her nipple. Her hand caressed over to the other breast and gave it the same attention, knowing he would do the same. It didn’t take their encounter tonight to figure out what parts of her he was most interested in. He may be prudish and chivalrous in his approach to their relationship, but she had caught his wandering eyes on more than one occasion.

Her hand wriggled inside her panties and she let out a relieved sob when her fingers finally made contact with her throbbing clit. Alastor’s voice was in her head again, heady and low as he marveled at the state she was in. She plunged two fingers inside her cunt and her insides immediately clenched around them. She was up on her knees now, back arched as she fucked herself on her fingers. It wasn’t enough. His would be so much longer, so much thicker. She dragged her nails against her inner walls but it was barely a tickle. She wanted to feel the sting of his jagged claws inside of her. Fuck, she wanted to feel so much more of him inside her.

Even though she was alone, she buried her face into his pillow to muffle her moans. His name endlessly fell from her lips as she chased her pleasure, the word weaving itself like invisible thread into the fabric to further claim it as his. Louder and louder she cried out, as if wanting him to hear, all the way on the other side of the hotel.

She could feel a tingle at the base of her spine and her inner walls pulsed desperately around her digits. She was right on the edge, and her mind had gotten so foggy that fantasy Alastor disappeared in a haze just like the real one had.

“Fuck Al… please… please…” She whimpered and begged as she thrusted frantically against her hand, fingers buried deep inside her swollen cunt.

Then her vision went red as she finally dragged her long-awaited orgasm out of herself. The pleasure was stifling, bubbling up from deep inside her and lodging itself it her throat so she couldn’t scream, couldn’t even breathe. Her arousal gushed over her wrist and trickled down her thighs. Her devil tail had ripped through her pajama bottoms and thrashed against the mattress. As she writhed against his pillow, her hair snagged on her horns and pulled painfully at the roots.

She crashed down from her peak, feeling like the entire Pride ring was spinning like a disc with her desperately hanging on. With a winded sigh, she collapsed onto the bed, insides twitching with tiny aftershocks from her orgasm.

Charlie took a few shallow breaths. Her limbs felt heavy, her eyelids even more so, and she laid there in her mess of tangled hair, sweaty clothes, and ruined sheets. She knew she should go clean herself up, but fatigue had settled on her like a weighted blanket. Resting her forearm against her head, she felt her heart rate slow and her breathing regulate.

If someone told her a year ago that she’d had the most intense orgasm of her life while fantasying about the radio demon… well, first she’d call them a pervert. That’s not something you just go up to someone and say. And second, she’d call them a liar. Never would she have thought that the creepy overlord with his goofy radio voice and questionable sense of morality would be able to work her up into such a frenzy, making her desperate for his affection and nearly delirious in her desire for him.

As she drifted into slumber, her last thoughts were about Alastor, up there all alone in his radio tower. She wondered, on the seldom occasions when he did sleep, if his last thoughts were about her too.

Chapter Text

Alastor awoke with a pained groan. One arm was slung over the top of his armchair and the other was pinned at an odd angle behind his back. A leg was dangling off the armrest like the spindly branch of a dead tree about to break. He couldn’t even feel his other leg, which was squished between the cushions and his body, its knee serving as a very bony and impractical pillow. As he unstuck his sweaty cheek from his pant leg, he ignored how the muscles in his neck stiffened in protest.

The stiffness between his legs, however, could not be ignored.

A night of fitful sleep plagued by dreams of Charlie had caused the radio demon to wake up with both the worse kink in his neck and the hardest morning wood he’s ever had.

The remnants of those dreams clung to him like a thick, suffocating fog, their hazy tendrils burrowing themselves into his waking conscious. Charlie last night in the hallway outside her bedroom. Charlie sitting on his lap in the photo booth at the hotel costume party. Charlie in that wretched blue dress at the overlord summit. Charlie during their training bouts with her trident against his throat.

It wouldn’t be the first time he revisited these memories in his dreams, but lately his subconscious was playing a perverted whisper-down-the-lane game with them. Dressing them up in frills and thrills until they were less his memories and more his debauched fantasies that he was desperate to make reality.

Charlie during their training bouts had kept her trident against his throat while she grinded against him. Charlie during the overlord summit had her dress pulled down to her waist and his face buried between her bare breasts. Charlie in the photo booth had let the camera keep taking pictures as he crept a hand under her costume and into her underwear. Charlie in the hallway whimpered and begged in his ear as he fucked her right there against the wall.

Then there was the dream where they were naked on a bed of moss in his endless bayou while a herd of centaur watched them. He blamed the abhorrent smut film they watched last night for that one.

With an exerted grunt, Alastor turned over, drawing his legs close and tucking his hands under his armpits. The position made his trousers tug tight against his erection and he could only tolerate it for a minute before he was shifting again. Ten minutes of tossing and turning later, he was wide awake and the problem between his legs still had not resolved itself.

It felt like he was taking an express train through post-mortem puberty. How could he possibly be feeling this worked up when he just took care of himself the night before? Was his nearly century-and-a-half-long abstinence finally catching up with him? Charlie had dredged something up from the deepest part of him and now everything he didn’t know he’d been repressing was rushing out of him all at once.

Alastor sat up properly in the armchair and rubbed at the stiffness in his neck. His fingers pressed into a surprisingly tender spot of flesh and he winced. The skin there was hot and slightly swelled. Curiously, he got up to inspect it in his mirror and saw that a small bruise had formed on his neck, faint shades of blue and purple peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt collar.

His eyes shot wide. Heat coursed through him that matched the crimson blush burning on his reflection’s cheeks.

Charlie did that.

Leaning in closer, he brushed his fingers over the red speckles where the blood vessels under his skin had broken. Then he pressed them hard into the bruised flesh, eyes fluttering closed as the dull pain pulsed against his fingertips. A groan rumbled in his throat as he dug the digits in deeper, remembering how it felt to have Charlie’s mouth there. Her teeth were nowhere near as sharp as his, but she had still scraped them along his neck like a predator savoring the spoils of its hunt. He was a prey animal, afterall. Perhaps it was in his nature to succumb to her so eagerly.

Had she marked him like this on purpose? So carefully, so that no one would see it? Was that her intention? For only the two of them to know that she had claimed him?

Charlie was his. Alastor considered her that long before they labeled themselves as more than friends. The moment she had open the hotel doors to him, he knew she would belong to him one way or another. The possessiveness he felt over her was innate since the day they met.

But now he wondered…

…how long has he been hers?

These ruminations didn’t go much further when what little blood left in his brain rushed south. Between his legs, his erection throbbed with an even greater need than before. Alastor glanced down and could only see the wingtip of his boots beneath the twitching bulge in his trousers. He sighed. There’s no way he could go downstairs in his current state. He might poke out the eye of one of their more vertically-challenged hotel guests. And if Charlie saw him like this? It was embarrassing enough how quickly he had gotten aroused during their handsy moment in the hallway. She didn’t need to know that all it took was a few dirty thoughts and a mark on his neck to make him harder than a diamond-encrusted alligator hide.

He slinked back to his armchair and hastily undid his pants, ears giving an anticipatory twitch at the sound of his zipper being pulled down. His hand slipped into his underwear and down his cock before adjusting the elastic band to rest below the base of his shaft. The pressure against his scrotum felt good, and he hated himself that he’s done this enough times in recent memory to even know that.

He gripped his cock firmly and began jerking off at a steady pace, fist smacking against his stomach and then tightening as it traveled up towards his tip. Precum dribbled down his length like sap on a tree. Dragging his fingers through the sticky substance, he rubbed it up and down his cock and continued pumping himself.

His free hand had been anchored to his chest, palm pressed against his pounding heart like it was a cork keeping it contained. Slowly, his hand crept up towards his neck, then he pressed two fingers into the mark Charlie had left there.

“Hnghhh…” Alastor moaned as the faint ache in his neck shot like lightning right down to his cock. As his fingers prodded deeper into the bruised flesh, he stroked himself with a frenzied urgency. The heady mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming. His hand was a wet, noisy mess as it fisted his length, drowned out by the swells of static that pulsed in the air and his own labored breathing.

“Charlie…” He keened her name behind clenched teeth. “Oh… darling…” His cock was weeping profusely and throbbing with the need to unload its burden. “L-Look… look what you’ve-”

The words caught in his throat as his orgasm wracked through him. Shot after shot of cum erupted from his cock and oozed down his hand in thick streams. His antlers erupted from his skull just as violently, crackling like snapped tinder as each prong stretched and then split to form two more.

As the radio demon sat there and gave himself a moment to recover, he heard the chime of the clock tower outside, signaling that he was late for his morning rendezvous with Charlie. He looked down at the mess on his trousers and grimaced as much as his permanent smile would allow.

If this was going to become a regular occurrence for him, he would need to start waking up earlier.

One magic clean-up and a shadowy walk of shame later, Alastor was outside of Charlie’s bedroom door and had raised his fist to knock on it. Just before he could, the door opened, and he nearly rapped his knuckles against the princess’s forehead.

“Oh!” Her eyes went wide with surprise. “There you are! I was just coming up to check on you.”

“Apologies for my tardiness. I, ah…” His hand found his neck again, pressing into the mark that was now safely concealed by his shirt collar. Just as quickly, he dropped it back to his side. “I was tinkering with my phonograph. Pesky thing, the needle gets stiff sometimes. I got a bit carried away with the polishing and completely lost track of time.”

Charlie smiled at him and gave a polite nod of understanding. She had closed the bedroom door behind her and they were now out in the hallway together. His eyes were drawn over her shoulder, where the painting on the wall was hanging slightly askew, a crack running along the bottom of its wooden frame. She followed his gaze and they both stared at it for a moment. As an awkward silence fell between them, Alastor was certain their minds had jointly wandered to the same place.

“So… umm… about last night…” She paused, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. “Sorry if I pushed things too far. That movie must have gotten into my head or something. I didn’t mean to force all… that on you.”

The radio demon impulsively rubbed at his neck again, skin prickling with an uncomfortable heat. “It’s quite alright, my dearest. I admit, that vulgar attempt at cinema stirred up some frisky feelings for me as well.” He winced. Frisky. That was a word he’s never used to describe himself. “Remind me the next time our dear friend Angel Dust runs a movie night to shove hot pokers into my eye sockets beforehand.”

She flinched at the visual. “Actually, I did want to talk about what hap-”

“Who’s up on the docket next, hmm?!” He aggressively linked his arm with hers and began marching them towards the elevator. “What bleeding-heart buffoon at our beloved hotel will be blundering their way through a lesson on betterment today?”

“Al, we really should talk-”

“Was it Peppy with that cockamamie idea about sending letters to heaven?” he interrupted again. “Or maybe Leonard? He seemed very passionate about that art therapy idea. And don’t forget dear Niffty is quite eager to try that trust exercise with the knife throwing.”

Charlie let out a hum that was almost a sigh, like she was halfway between understanding and resignation. “Heather’s running the group activity today,” she said.

“Ah, that’s right. Something about a pyramid made of people? Sounds painful. I’m quite excited to participate!”

The princess nodded in agreement, but the disappointment in her eyes nagged at his conscience. Alastor would rather get ripped apart by a pack of hounds again than talk about his feelings. Especially these feelings, the ones he had for Charlie that became more complex the more he tried to understand them.

She never pried too far, never pushed a topic he wasn’t keen on discussing, never gave him any flack for dodging her questions or redirecting the conversation. Even when she wanted answers, even when she deserved answers like she does now, she still allowed everything to be on his terms.

He didn’t know if it was cruelty or cowardice that made him take advantage of her empathetic nature. But acknowledging his shortcomings didn’t make him feel any less guilty about it.

The elevator doors slid open and she stepped inside. “I’ll see you downstairs,” she said.

“Charlie.” The radio demon put his hand on the elevator door to keep it from closing. “About last night…”

She stepped forward to meet him at the door’s threshold, looking hopeful. “Yeah?”

Words were failing him, as he didn’t know how to articulate what he wanted to say. Quite frankly, he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You didn’t force anything on me. No need to fret about that.”

She touched the spot on her cheek, looking confused for a moment. Then the warmth returned to her eyes and she smiled gratefully at him. It wasn’t much of an answer, that he knew, but he hoped it was something.

C – Hi Heather! Just checking in that you’re all set for today’s group activity. Let me know if you need anything! :)

C – Super excited for whatever you’ve got planned! Just wanna make sure you’re still good to go. :)

C – Figured you might be busy getting stuff ready. Heading to the lobby now to help!

C – We’re all in the lobby ready whenever you are! :)

C – Been waiting for a bit. Everything okay?

C – Helloooo?

Charlie looked down at the unread messages on her phone. It was 1:45 and Heather the cheerleader killer was nearly an hour late for the group activity she was supposed to run. The hotel guests were sprawled out across the lobby, bored and restless as they waited for the princess to finally dismiss them.

“Has anyone seen Heather today?” she asked.

“Not since the movie night yesterday,” Angel Dust replied.

“She wasn’t at breakfast either,” added Husk.

Heather was one of the more responsible residents at the hotel and it wasn’t like her to skip out on their daily lessons, let alone one that she was supposed to run herself. An uneasy feeling bubbled in the pit of Charlie’s stomach as she considered why the cheerleader killer was ghosting her.

“You don’t think she left the hotel, do you?”

“Nah, she probably got called into the studio,” Angel assured her. “Velvette’s really had her panties in a twist recently. I heard one of her girls tried to quit and she dipped her in hot plastic and turned her into a mannequin.”

“Yikes. Maybe I should head over there and talk to Velvette. At least make sure Heather is okay.”

“Absolutely not,” Alastor interjected, stepping out from his usual shady spot by the staircase. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes narrowed sternly. “I don’t want you anywhere near V Tower.”

Everyone looked at him, surprised by his sudden outburst and the seriousness of his comment. Charlie had almost forgotten he was even in the room. He was being suspiciously respectful of her personal space today and she was sure he was just avoiding talking about what happened last night. As frustrating as that was, she was trying to give him the space he needed. Patience and understanding were some of the most important virtues she instilled upon their hotel guests. She knew she needed to practice what she preached.

Though she could still be a little annoyed with Alastor for putting on the overprotective boyfriend act in front of the entire hotel. Now was definitely not the time to reveal their secret relationship to everyone. She frowned at him and gave a single disapproving shake of her head.

Recognition registered on his face and he was quick to laugh off his comment. “I just mean we can’t risk our fearless leader being turned into a mannequin for some tacky window display. It’s bad for business! And I’m certainly not going to run this place on my own.”

“Yeah, I’d give it a day before you ran it right into the ground,” Husk muttered.

There were murmurs of agreement among the group and Charlie stifled a giggle at how offended Alastor looked that no one actually thought he could run the hotel by himself. But maybe he was right about going to V Tower. She hadn’t been there since the overlord summit and was pretty sure she ruined any chance of a cordial relationship with the Vee’s that night. More importantly, she didn’t want to further enrage Velvette, only for the fashionista to take it out on Heather.

The princess hopped to her feet and clapped her hands. “Okay then! Today’s impromptu lesson is about being flexible and accommodating. If someone has other obligations that interfere with your plans, it’s important to be understanding about that. Why don’t you all take the afternoon off and we’ll-”

Her phone started ringing and she stopped mid-sentence. “Oh! Maybe that’s Heather!”

Hopeful that it was the missing sinner who was calling her, her jaw dropped when she saw the caller ID flash on her screen. It was a number she had assumed was out of service, but didn’t have the heart to delete from her phone. She hit the answer button and a familiar serpentine face appeared on the screen.

“Pentious?!”

“Oh hello, Charlie!” Sir Pentious greeted. Hearing his fancy accent after so long made her eyes sting with the threat of tears. “It’s so lovely to see you!”

“Oh my gosh! It’s so great to see you too! You look… well, kind of the same. The pastels suit you though!”

“Holy shit, is that Pen?” Angel Dust clambered to his feet and threw himself over Charlie’s shoulder. “Hey buddy! How’s it hanging up in heaven? Still got two dicks?”

The soft purple on Pentious’s face deepened to violet. “It’s three now, actually.”

Angel whistled. “Damn! Is that part of the welcome package or something? I gotta let Cherri know. Might just be enough to finally get her to check into the hotel!”

“O-Oh! Well, do tell her I said hello when you speak to her,” the snake demon stammered.

“Is all that angel bullshit all it’s cracked up to be?” Husk had appeared on Charlie’s other side.

“Oh yes! The people up here are quite friendly. And everything smells so nice.”

Niffty was slung over Angel’s shoulder and giddily kicking her feet. “I bet all those goody-two-shoes think you’re a real bad boy.”

“I don’t know if I’d go so far to consider myself a bad boy.” Pentious puffed out his chest. “But a bit of my old dastardly reputation might have stuck with me.”

“It’s been months, man! What took ya so long to say hello?” Angel asked.

“These interdimensional phone lines are still a bit touchy. And as much as I love catching up with all my dearest friends, I’m calling on official heavenly business.” He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “As the newly appointed onboarding manager at the SinNoMo Center, it is my pleasure to announce that- AUGH!”

Pentious was suddenly shoved out of view and someone else appeared on screen.

“I got redeemed, bitches!” Heather the cheerleader killer popped the gum in her mouth and flashed everyone a peace sign.

“Heather!” Charlie squealed in delight. She slapped both hands to her face and Angel was quick to grab her phone before it dropped to the floor. “Wha-! How?!”

The entire hotel gathered around the tiny screen of Charlie’s phone as they barraged Heather with a flurry of congratulations and questions. Even Alastor had taken a peek, a bemused grin on his face as he loomed over the others and listened to the now redeemed sinner’s explanation.

“It was, like, totally weird,” she began. “I was helping Niffty take out the trash last night, then everything went bright, and POOF! I was in heaven.”

Judgmental eyes all turned towards Niffty. “Niff, you didn’t think to tell anyone that you saw Heather vanish into thin air?” Husk asked.

The little bug shrugged. “I thought maybe one of those monster raccoons that lives in the dumpster got her.”

“I’m so proud of you Heather!” Charlie’s voice warbled as she held back joyful tears. “All of your hard work has paid off. And I’m sure everyone else will be joining you in no time!” She motioned around to the other hotel guests.

“We gotta celebrate!” Angel Dust chimed in. “There’s booze in heaven, right? Eh, who cares. We’ll drink enough for both of ya down here!”

Drinks in hand, a toast was made to both Sir Pentious and Heather. Although they weren’t present, Charlie also raised her glass to thank Vaggie and Emily (Alastor’s eyeroll at the former had not been subtle), citing that the journey after redemption is just as important as the journey to it.

“And of course, we gotta thank the big tits in charge herself!” Angel raised his glass with one hand and slung two others around the princess’s shoulder. He looked down at her chest. “Well, more like slightly above average tits. Hard to tell underneath that pantsuit.”

Charlie made a face at him and instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. She glanced at Alastor, whose eyes had drifted far too low to be making proper eye contact with her. He absentmindedly rubbed his neck as he made his own assessment of her… features. When his eyes raised to meet hers, his ears shot straight up in alarm at the realization that he had been caught.

“I-I second that!” the radio demon called out, raising his glass a bit too quickly so his drink splashed onto the people in front of him. “To our dear princess and her fine efforts here!”

The festivities continued long after they lost the cross-realm connection to Sir Pentious and Heather. As Charlie mingled, nearly every conversation she overheard was about redemption. Renewed hope buzzed among the sinners as they shared their promises of working harder and their dreams about what heaven would be like.

Although she was overjoyed that everyone was feeling inspired, something melancholic began to sully her good mood. The princess found herself seeking solitude outside. As she sat down on the base of Dazzle’s statue, the emotional floodgates opened and tears began trickling down her face. She let them fall freely, pitter-pattering against the stone like heavy rain droplets.

“Did the stench of hope and determination become too pungent for you as well?” She heard the sound of Alastor’s boots against the cobblestone. He flipped out the ends of his dress coat and sat down next to her. “Could also be the vomit. That lot really can’t hold their booze all that well.”

She wiped at her eyes and tried to force a smile for him. “Just needed to step away for a minute.”

He saw the wet streaks on her face and his expression immediately fell, smile shrinking small and brow wrinkling with concern. “Are you alright, my dearest? I thought you’d be over the moon that another one of our guests earned their one-way ticket to eternal paradise.”

“I am! It’s just I…” A new swell of tears blurred her vision and she unsuccessfully tried to blink them away. They rolled down her cheeks and splattered onto her lap. “I guess I never realized until now that when everyone here finds redemption and earn their spot in heaven, that means that one day everyone I care about will be gone.” She covered her face with her hands. “That makes me sound so selfish, doesn’t it? Like my own happiness is more important than saving their souls.”

“Charlie…” Alastor said softly. “I don’t think there’s a single selfish bone in your body. You mustn’t fault yourself for these things. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone once they’re gone from your life.”

“And what will happen when everyone’s gone and I’m all alone?”

“You’ll never be alone, darling.” He gently pried her hands away from her face and held them in his own. “You’ll always have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

It was such a monumental thing to promise her. Anyone would call her a fool for believing it. The radio demon was as charming as he was silver-tongued, and if he wasn’t tricking you into some deal, he was stringing you along with empty promises. That was his reputation. But Charlie knew that Alastor was more than just the radio demon. Maybe he had charmed and tricked her before, but this promise? It was genuine. Even as impossible as it might be to keep, she knew he would try. And that made her heart swell with something much stronger than affection for the man.

“Even if I wanted to go to heaven, they would most certainly kick me out the moment I stepped through those pearly gates. Basically told me as much the last time I was there.” He began chuckling, which waned into silence as his expression became somber. “Heaven has nothing for me, Charlie. There’s only one person up there I’d want to see and I’m quite sure she wouldn’t want to see me.” His voice went quiet as it dropped out of its radio filter, crimson eyes glistening with emotion. Finding himself again, his face brightened and he smiled at her. “Besides, I have someone else down here who I’m quite fond of.”

He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her cheekbone, wiping the tears that still clung there. Charlie nuzzled against his touch, staring expectantly back at him. After glancing around to make sure they were still alone, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

When they pulled away, he reached into his coat pocket and offered her his handkerchief. “So tell me, darling. What would you like to do now?”

Charlie sniffled and wiped at her nose. “I want to talk to Heather some more. See if I can figure out what she did to earn her spot in heaven.” She sat up, feeling a surge of determination. “Then I want to call the news station and tell that bitch Katie Killjoy that the Hazbin Hotel has successfully redeemed TWO sinners!”

Alastor’s smile warmed with affection and he brushed his knuckle against her cheek. “That’s my girl.”

In the bowels of V Tower, down a narrow catwalk that was scattered with frayed wires, broken glass, and dried stains of a suspicious golden liquid, a wall of black mirrors reflected the ruins of Vox’s control room. Many were cracked, some of them had been ripped off their mounts entirely, but only one emitted a faint glow. A dark screen with a spinning blue wheel. Below that was a progress bar, and when the final notch filled up, a prompt displayed on the screen.

vox_patch_ums_17-27.cfg has been installed.

Restart required to run updates. System restarting in 5…4…3…2…1…

Suddenly, the screen flashed a blinding blue light and the entire wall of computer monitors turned on, illuminating the man who was sitting in front of them. Vox’s claws dug into the armrests as a set of wires untangled themselves from behind the monitors. They coiled up his body before burrowing in the ports on the back of his head. Information cycled rapidly across each screen. Photos, videos, text posts, every bit of data that VoxTek had collected from the past month uploaded into the television demon’s digitized brain. For most residents of Pentagram City, they couldn’t so much as blink without Vox tracking it.

“Fucking hell! Has no one thought to clean up down here?”

Heels clacked angrily down the walkway. Velvette cursed and kicked debris out of her path as she made her way towards Vox. She leaned over and snapped her fingers in front of his screen to get his attention. “Took you long to come back online! Now wake the fuck up. We have a lot to talk about.”

Vox’s face glitched as he cracked open an eye. Seeing who it was, he closed it with an irritated groan. “Velvette, you know these data dumps give me the worst migraine. Whatever you need, can’t it wait?”

“While you’ve been getting your beauty rest, it’s been an absolute fucking shit show here.” She was holding a VoxTek tablet and shoved it into his face. The news article on the screen read Sinners Fear No More! Exterminations Are Out The Door! “For starters, they abolished the exterminations permanently.”

“Permanently? That’s a shame. We made a lot of money off the exterminations.”

“No kidding.” Velvette swiped on the tablet to show him a sales chart, which was completely in the red. “I’ve been designing that defense fashion line for months. You know how expensive angelic thread is? Now nearly all of my retailers pulled out and eighty percent of my preorders were cancelled!”

“I keep telling you that you have to lock those retailers in with an iron-clad contract. And what good is a preorder if you don’t charge a preorder cancellation fee?”

She ignored his business lecture and threw the tablet at him. “That’s not the only thing. The radio prick and his prissy little princess have been busy since they knocked you on your arse.”

Vox grumbled as he rubbed the vents on the sides of his monitor. A video from 666 News being playing on the tablet.

Good evening, Pentagram City! I’ve got some real boring bullshit for you tonight because apparently news is so slow this week that we have nothing better to report! Joining us live from the Hazbin Hotel is the royal blonde bimbo herself, Princess Charlie Morningstar!

Hi everyone! I’m Charlie. You already knew that. Not because I’m the princess or anything. Well, I am. I-I just mean because Katie already introduced me. Err, anyway! The Hazbin Hotel has some wonderful news to share! One of our long-time residents, Heather George, has checked out of the hotel. Why, you might ask? Because she checked into heaven! Permanently! We’re thrilled to announce that a second resident has successfully completed the Hazbin Hotel rehabilitation program. You can start your own journey to redemption if you-

Alright, enough of that! This isn’t some charity that gives out free advertising. You want an ad spot, you got to fucking pay for one. Anyways, folks, you heard it here first! Redemption? Eternal paradise in heaven? Are these things even possible for sinners? Princess Morningstar tells us it is, but I still think this is all just some elaborate money-laundering scheme. I’ll let you viewers decide for yourselves. This has been Katie Killjoy with the evening news!

“Charlie redeemed another one of those lowlifes at her hotel,” Vox murmured, almost sounding proud.

“I had three models quit this morning once they found out that cunty bitch Heather slutted her way into heaven,” Velvette spat heatedly. “What are we going to do? This redemption bullshit is going to run us out of business!”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Vox assured her. “We’re not going to go bankrupt from a few lost revenue streams. I’ll find a way to spin this into a net positive. The Vee’s will come out on top, as we always do.”

“Well, I hope whatever plan you slap together is a better one than thinking you can dick down the princess so good, she just gives you her stupid bloody hotel.” Velvette stormed back down the catwalk, then stopped. “Oh, and that cunt down at the news station has been calling your office nonstop the last few weeks. Make sure to take care of that too.”

As Vox waited for his data to finish uploading, he dragged his finger along the tablet to rewind the video and then stopped on an image of the princess. He traced the outline of her figure, the screen flickering as his claw scratched against it. The left edge of the image had a strange red blur, and when he zoomed in, he could just about make out the frayed edges of a pinstriped dress coat.

The backlog of information from the past month felt heavy and burdensome in his brain. He steepled his fingers against his screen as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened in his absence. The hotel itself might be an annoying blind spot for him, but he could gather enough context from other sources to piece together a fairly accurate timeline of what had happened there. The radio demon was savvy enough to run interference on everything in close proximity to the hotel, but he was ignorant to how information was really parsed and shared these days.

Like the sky cam on top of V Tower that had captured some very interesting footage of someone plummeting through the sky out of a glowing gold portal.

Or all the rival coffee shops that Voxbucks kept tabs on, especially that new one in Cannibal Town that’s been gaining popularity.

Not to mention those inter-dimensional communication lines with their very poor and very exploitable encryptions.

A smile flickered on Vox’s screen. He decided to make a call.

“Who the fuck is this?” the caller answered aggressively. “How did you get this number and why the fuck are you calling me?”

“Hello, my dear. Lute, isn’t it? The name’s Vox. I heard you had a recent encounter with an old friend of mine. You might know him as the radio demon.”

Chapter Text

Charlie looked up at the deflated balloons that were slowly drifting down from the ceiling. One of them bonked her in the head and she batted it away. It settled onto floor and rolled like a tumbleweed across the mostly empty hotel lobby.

The atmosphere at that night’s recruitment party was almost as drab and droopy as its decor. Although Alastor had offered to zhuzh the place up, the princess had insisted they keep things modest. The hotel’s recent success should speak for itself! They didn’t need fancy decorations or bougie top-shelf drinks to draw people in when the promise of redemption should be enticing enough.

With the city buzzing over the news of Heather’s ascension to heaven, Charlie had expected sinners would be knocking down their doors and the hotel would reach full capacity in no time. In fact, she had already asked her father to draw up some blueprints for an extension so they had even more room for potential guests. But the only attendees at her recruitment night were her hotel staff and a handful of residents who made awkward small talk with each other while they nursed the melted ice in their drinks. Cherri Bomb was also here, though it’s likely Angel Dust asked her to come so the party didn’t look like a total bust.

“Are we doing something wrong?” Charlie wondered out loud. “We hung up all the flyers, right?”

“I made sure of that personally,” Angel replied. “There ain’t a telephone or stripper pole left in the city that doesn’t have our name plastered all over it.”

She kicked at a balloon on the floor. “I thought for sure that news segment would drum up some hype for us.”

“You did trend on Sinstagram for a few hours,” Cherri encouraged as she polished off another free drink.

“Perhaps folks are complacent in their sad pathetic lives down here, now that the exterminations are abolished,” Alastor mused. He sat at the bar and was cleaning out the grill of his microphone with a rag he had stolen from Husk. “No sense waiting around for sinners who don’t want to be saved. We should just call it a night, don’t you think?”

Charlie gave him a knowing look. He was always looking for ways to get out of these recruitment nights. Partly because he hated playing nice with the potential new residents and partly because he hated how it cut into their quality time together. He was extra ornery at tonight’s open house, considering he had forgotten about it entirely. Even though they were the same day, same time, every week. She had even drawn a color-coded schedule for him and taped it front-and-center to his radio console! But after dinner this evening, he had gotten twenty minutes into a raving review about the new jazz record he wanted them to listen before she sheepishly reminded him it would have to wait until tomorrow.  

“I hate to agree with Alastor, but he might have a point,” Husk replied.

Charlie let out a disappointed hum. As she considered their reasonings, she approached the window by the front door and looked out at the road leading away from the hotel. Squinting, she saw three figures emerge from over the hill. Her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands excitedly, turning towards the hotel occupants with a bright smile. “Looks like the party’s finally starting!”

She rushed out the door to greet the newcomers at the gate. They were three women, tall, slender, and stylishly dressed, and she recognized one of them from the cover of a fashion magazine Heather had left behind.

“Oh my gosh, hi! Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Charlie was bouncing with excitement as she wrapped her arms around the three women and began escorting them towards the hotel. “Are you all from Velvette’s studio?! That’s amazing! Did you know Heather? Are you here because you heard she got redeemed? Oo, this is so exciting! You know, her old room is available, if one of you would like to stay there. Oh! Or maybe all three of you can! Like a permanent sleepover! Though you’ll also need to invite Niffty. She gets jealous if she’s not invited to those types of things. Niffty’s our housekeeper, by the way. She does all the cooking and cleaning around here. Well, most of the cooking. My dad handles breakfast on Sundays. Do you guys like pancakes?”

She shoved the three women through the front door. “Everyone, meet our new arrivals! Err.. wait, I don’t think I caught your names?”

The trio looked nervously at each other. “I… umm… forgot I left my apartment burning,” one of them said as she slowly backed out the door.

“I also left her apartment burning,” the second one added as she followed her.

“I was the one who set her apartment on fire,” the third one mumbled. Together, they scurried out the gate and disappeared down the hill.

“Wait!” Charlie called after them. “Don’t you at least want to fill out an application? We have an open bar!” She blew out an exasperated puff of air, causing her bangs to flutter against her forehead. “Shit.”

She turned back inside and saw that everyone’s eyes were on her, having just witnessed her scare off their potential new residents. They all quickly looked away, busying themselves with their drinks or an interesting spot on the wall.

“Came on a bit strong there, darling!” Alastor called out, a cheeky grin on his face.

The lobby cleared out shortly after that, though the princess insisted on staying until the recruitment party was officially over. After stacking the last of his clean glasses, Husk bade her goodnight and tossed a shifty look to the radio demon, who made little attempt to hide his impatience as he loudly drummed his fingers on the bar counter and waited for the clock on the wall to strike the hour.

Now alone with Alastor, Charlie slumped down on the barstool next to him with a weary sigh. “Maybe we should just give up on bring any new guests to the hotel and focus on the ones we have,” she said.

“I concur! And what an excellent thought to end the night on!” He hopped up eagerly from his seat, flourished his cane, then gestured with it towards the stairs. “Shall we?” he sang, offering his hand.

“Once we have a few more redemptions to our name, people will have to see that what we’re doing here is actually working,” she continued, ignoring his outstretched hand. “One is a fluke. Two, a coincidence. But three? That’s when a pattern starts!”

“Yes, yes, very clever insight, my dearest,” he replied dismissively. “It’ll make quite a rousing topic of discussion at breakfast tomorrow. But now I insist you push all this hotel nonsense to the back of your mind and come unwind with me for a bit.” He stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve got that new jazz record and an old bottle of brandy waiting for us up in my radio tower.”

“Mmm.” She leaned back against his chest and looked up at him. “That does sound nice.”

He grinned triumphantly and bent over to kiss her. Just as their lips met, there was a knock at the door.

“You don’t think that’s-?” Charlie slid off her stool and rushed to answer it.

She opened the door to a demon who nearly filled out the entire door frame. He had bullish features, with an impressive pair of curved horns atop his head and a golden ring pierced through his snout. His shirt was stretched tight over his muscles and it looked like his suspenders might snap from the strain at any moment.

“Hello ma’am,” he greeted in a low, smooth rumble. He held up a crumbled flyer for the hotel. “I hope I’m not too late for the open house?”

She felt Alastor slink up behind her, his hand gripping the door with the intention of slamming it shut. “Just ended,” he stated snippily. “Come back tomorrow. Or next month. Or never.”

“No, not at all!” the princess quickly countered, catching the door before it closed. She bumped Alastor out of the way with her hip. “Don’t mind him. That’s Alastor, our facilities manager. You’ll get used to his… err… unique sense of humor. I’m Charlie, by the way. Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“You’re Princess Morningstar?” The bull demon gave a quick bow. “It’s an honor to meet you, your highness.”

“O-Oh! Umm… yup, that’s me!” His formality surprised her, as did the fact that he didn’t know who she was. Not that her face was plastered on billboards around the Pride ring, but she assumed someone who was interested in staying at the hotel would at least be able to recognize her. “You can just call me Charlie, by the way. Please, come in!”

The bull demon ducked down to fit his large horns through the doorframe, then squeezed himself inside. He stepped carefully around the deflated balloons on the floor as he surveyed the lobby. Charlie trailed behind him, trying not to hover too closely. She glanced back at Alastor, giddy with excitement as she gave him two thumbs up. He half-heartedly gave one in return.

“So what brings you to the hotel?” she asked.

“I’ve been out of town for a while. Bit of a soul vacation, if you will. Just me, my thoughts, and that sulfuric mountain air.”

“Oh wow. You mean really out of town. Like out in the badlands?”

He nodded. “Never really found myself out there, but I wasn’t ready to come back to civilization either.” He stopped to inspect the portrait of Sir Pentious. “My days of power plays and turf wars are far behind me. But then I heard about your hotel and I realized that redemption is just the thing I’ve been looking for.”

“Turf wars?” Charlie repeated. “Wait, are you an overlord?!”

“Ex-overlord, it sounds like,” Alastor corrected, crossing his arms as he sized up the sinner.

“I consider myself retired from the overlord business,” the bull demon continued. He adjusted the worn leather bracers that were on his forearms. “Even if I wanted to get back in the game, I’m sure all my territory in New Gomorrah got snatched up the second I left.”

Alastor cocked his head, confused. “New Go-what-now?”

Charlie thought for a moment. “Do you mean Cannibal Town?” she asked. “No one’s called it New Gomorrah in years. It was renamed a few centuries ago. Total rebranding!”

“Was it?” The bull demon scratched one of his horns. “Guess I’ve been away longer than I thought.”

It made sense now, why he didn’t recognize her. She might not have been born yet when he was last in Pentagram City. What’s more, it sounds like he’s been totally off the grid. The land between Pentagram City, Imp City, and the other settlements in the Pride ring were as harsh as they were primordial, frozen in time from when hell was nothing but chaos and pits of boiling magma. Most sinners who ended up out there were in exile, whether self-imposed or because society had cast them out. But Charlie was happy to be the first to welcome this sinner back now.

“This is so exciting!” She clapped her hands together. “An overlord wanting to stay at our hotel!”

Alastor loudly cleared his throat. When she glanced over at him, he gestured to himself, smile wriggling in annoyance. She knocked him playfully in the arm. “Aww, c’mon Al. You know what I mean.”

He turned towards the bull demon. “It has been a while since I brushed up on my overlord history, but I’m afraid I don’t recognize you. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” The bull demon extended his hand. “The name’s Bull.”

“How unique. I would have never guessed that,” Alastor retorted, completely deadpanned. His arms remained folded against his chest.

“It’s great to meet you, Bull!” Charlie interjected, taking his hand and shaking it vigorously. “I know it’s getting late, but could I interest you in a tour of the hotel?”

“I’m a bit tuckered out, actually. I was hoping I could just check right into my room.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Yes, of course! Let’s get you settled in right now!”

Alastor let out a staticky grumble. “But darling, we were just about to-” He caught himself. “Shouldn’t he at least fill out an application first?”

“We can sort out all the paperwork tomorrow.” She began ushering their newest hotel resident up the staircase. “Now Bull, would you prefer a mountain view or a city view? Any thought to what floor you’d like to be on?”

As she rambled on about the hotel accommodations, she didn’t see the radio demon at the bottom of the staircase, his boot on the first step, one hand on the banister, and the other outstretched towards her.

“Charlie,” he called out, but she had already disappeared down the hallway.

The hellish suns had warmed the bricks on the exterior of the hotel and Alastor ignored how the heat against his back was making him sweat through his dress coat. He leaned against the wall as he spectated that day’s group activity, static buzzing around him like an angry hornet’s nest while he watched everyone dote over the hotel newcomer.

Bull had only been here a few days and already he had butted his obnoxiously large head into every goings-on at the hotel. Whether he was dicing vegetables in the kitchen for Niffty, taking inventory at the bar for Husk, or offering to catalog the books in the hotel study for Charlie, Alastor could barely turn a corner without finding the bull demon trying to schmooze his way in someone else’s good graces. And now they were all suffering in the sweltering midday heat as he showed off his mediocre farming skills by leading an overhaul of the hotel’s garden.

Husk hobbled over to take a break from the manual labor, and seeing that Alastor was hogging the shade under the hotel veranda, he had no choice but to stand next to him. The radio demon barely took notice, as he was too busy watching Bull hurry over to Charlie to take the armful of gardening tools she was carrying.

“Suck-up… brown-noser… overachiever…” Alastor mumbled a string of insults under his breath.

Husk glanced up at him as he pulled out his flask and took a swig. “New guy getting under your skin already?”

“No,” he quickly shot back. “I just think he’s a bit of a try-hard. Too eager to impress. Feels insincere, if you ask me.”

“You are the expert on insincerity.”

“He claims to have been an overlord, but I’ve never heard of him. Have you?”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Husk replied. “But if he’s as old as he says he is, then he’s been off the grid longer than most of the current overlords have even been around.”

“That’s the other thing! To last as long as he did out in the badlands by himself? Everyone knows it’s a death sentence to be outside the city limits during the exterminations.”

“Maybe he was hanging out in a cave or something.”

“Or maybe he’s lying.”

“You are the expert on that too.”

“Hmph.” Alastor watched as Bull struck his hoe against the ground, muscles flexing as it dragged through the dirt. As Charlie approached with a tray of plants, he paused to wipe the sweat off his face with his leather bracer. The fur on his bare chest glistened under the sunlight. He had discarded his shirt the moment they started working.

“And would it kill him to keep his shirt on?” the radio demon grumbled.

Bull cupped his hands around the princess’s as he took the plant she offered him and Alastor’s eyes shot wide into radio dials. He lurched forward, stepping right into the flowerbed and crushing whatever had been freshly planted there.

Husk extended his arm to stop him, holding out his flask. He jiggled it. With a growl, Alastor snatched it from him and took a deep gulp.

“Hey boss, a word of advice?” the bartender began. “If you’re trying to keep whatever’s going on between you and Charlie a secret, maybe cool it with these fits of jealous rage.”

Alastor let out a loud cervid squeak as he crushed the metal flask in his hand. Above their heads, a few of the lights on the marquee exploded. He grabbed Husk by the bowtie and dragged him behind Dazzle’s statue where no one would see them.

“And what, pray tell, do you think is going on between myself and the princess?” he hissed.

“You’ve been out of sorts about her for months, and after you came to me for advice on what to do about it, I thought maybe you actually listened to me for once. Charlie has been a lot happier lately and you’ve been… well, less like this.” Husk gestured vaguely between them.

Alastor let go of him and wiped his hand on the lapel of his jacket. “You give yourself too much credit,” he spat back.

The bartender fixed his bowtie and nodded towards the window on the far end of the hotel. “And you do realize I have a clear view of this statue through the window by my bar? I lost count how many times I saw you out here trying to suck her face off.”

Alastor’s ears stood straight up, quivering with rage. He jabbed a finger into Husk’s chest. “Listen here, you peeping tom cat. If you tell anyone about my private matters with Charlie, I’ll make sure you never spy on us again because YOU WON’T HAVE EYES!” His voice warped demonically as two tendrils emerged from his back and twisted themselves into sharp points, aimed directly at the tiny cat man’s head.

Husk put up his hands as a sign of compliance. “I don’t have a death wish. Of course I won’t tell anyone. But you need to be more discreet, Alastor. Hotel gossip is one thing, but if Lucifer finds out?” He shuddered, making his fur stand on end. “He’ll destroy the hotel, smite you, and skin me alive for being an accomplice to you corrupting his daughter.”

Alastor scoffed. “I’m plenty discreet. You have nothing to worry about, Husker.”

Charlie’s laughter cut through the air and he stretched his neck to peek above Dazzle’s stone wing to investigate. She and Bull were on their knees in the dirt. The sinner was grinning horn to horn, clearly pleased that he had made the princess laugh with whatever bullshit he was spewing out the wrong hole.

Another light on the marquee popped. Alastor began furiously unbuttoning his dress coat. He threw it at Husk. “And for Pete’s sake, put up curtains or blinds or something on that window!”

With a staticky huff, he rolled up his sleeves and stomped off towards Charlie and Bull. As he passed by Ted the lizard pervert, he snatched the shovel out of his hands.

“Mind if I share some pointers, my dearest?” He gave the shovel a spin and staked it in the dirt right between the pair. “Now I might not know much about horticulture, but I do know a thing or two about digging holes. And not just ones that are six feet deep, haha!”

Husk watched as the radio demon began manically digging in the garden bed, not caring when he tossed a shovel of dirt in the bull demon’s direction.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “We’re so fucked.”

It was a quiet night in the hotel study where Charlie was sitting cross-legged on the loveseat, scowling down at the meager stack of guest applications that sat on the coffee table. She picked them up and shuffled through them, as if expecting that a few more would have manifested in the ten minutes since she last looked. There was one from Leonard’s shuffleboard buddy in Cannibal Town, but he hasn’t returned any of her phone calls. Two more were incomplete and didn’t have any personal information for her to reference. Another was from someone named Dixie Normous, who had covered their application with doodles of penises in various shapes, sizes, and states of arousal.

With a resigned sigh, she tossed the papers back on the coffee table and picked up her clipboard, where she had pinned her notes about the night Heather was redeemed. There was a rainbow of scribbles on it. Thoughts and theories and arrows pointing this way and that from all the different times she had tried to figure out what exactly triggered the former sinner’s redemption. Grabbing her sparkly pink gel pen, she began to go down the timeline of events again.

Footsteps echoed out in the hallway and the princess glanced up, expecting to see Alastor back from whatever overlord business Rosie had called him about. She had promised to be done working by the time he returned and was sure he’d have an earful for her about that. It turned out to be Angel Dust, who she gave a smile to before refocusing on her work.

“Niffty’s up in the chandelier again,” he said. “Where’s that creepy boyfriend of yours? He’s the only one who can convince her to come down.”

“He’ll be back soon. He’s running some errands in Cannibal Town,” she replied nonchalantly, head still down in her clipboard.

Her gel pen suddenly skidded sharply across the paper, slicing through to the next one. Charlie’s eyes went wide as she realized what she had just revealed.

“Oh shit.”

She looked up at Angel to see a smug grin on his face. He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She frantically waved her hands to backtrack. “I-I… I didn’t mean… I thought you were…” Her face burned hot with embarrassment as she stumbled over her words. She hid it behind her clipboard.

“Charlie, it ain’t a big deal. I’ve known about you and Alastor for a while.”

She peered at him from over the top of her clipboard. “You have?”

He chuckled. “You two have not been subtle. Like, AT ALL. I mean, first you made us all suffer through the months of sexual tension. Even I felt dirty being in the same room as you guys while you eye-fucked each other. Then ol’ smiley started coming down for breakfast exactly two minutes after you do every morning. I know, I timed it. And we all know those business errands you two run over in Creepsville every weekend ain’t got nothing to do with the hotel.”

Charlie groaned and slouched down on the loveseat, wishing she could get sucked in between the cushions and disappear. “Oh god, has it really been that obvious? Does the entire hotel know?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t sweat that too much. Most of the people here are morons.” He sat down next to her. “I just happen to be an expert on the matter. When you’re blessed with the holy trinity of being gay, Catholic, and Italian, you gotta get creative about the ways you hide all your shameful behavior and affronts to god and whatnot. Back when I was part of the family business, I tried sneaking around with our bookkeeper. Took my nonna three days to figure it out and send the guy to the bottom of the river in a pair of concrete boots.” He made a sign of the cross and clasped his hands together in mock prayer. “Rest in peace Tommy, you could suck like a Hoover.”

Charlie knew there were certain people who would punish Alastor far worse than any mob granny could. “Please don’t tell anyone, Angel,” she pleaded. “We’re not gonna keep it a secret forever, I swear! But the timing just hasn’t been right to tell everyone. And if word got out now, that’ll derail any momentum we got from Heather’s redemption.”

“Of course, Charlie. Your secret’s safe with me.” He smirked. “I gotta say, I didn’t think Alastor had it in him. Guess he’s not as big of a prude as I thought.” He leaned in closer. “So how big is it?”

“Angel!”

“I mean, the guy can grow to the size of a building. Can he do that with just his dick?”

That was a thought that had never crossed Charlie’s mind. And thinking about it now made her head dizzy and her stomach do somersaults. She pressed her hands to her face and almost snatched them away from now scalding hot her cheeks felt.

“I-I… errr… ummm… mrglllglll… hehhhehhh…” she stammered, trying not to imagine Alastor like that. She gave her head a violent shake to dislodge those images before they could root too deeply into her brain. “Y-You can’t ask something like that!”

Angel shrugged. “What? I’ve always been curious.”

Alastor whistled cheerfully to himself as he approached the door to his radio tower. Finding it ajar, his little tune came to an abrupt end. He melted into the shadows and slipped under the door, the cauldron of his mind bubbling with every sinister way he could ambush the intruder.

The intruder, it turned out, was a very frazzled blonde who he happened to be quite fond of.

“Oh! Hello, my dearest. I didn’t realize you were waiting up here for me.”

Charlie was pacing in front of his fireplace, mumbling to herself as she nervously twirled a strand of her hair. Her braid was nearly completely undone, she had discarded her coat, and her bowtie hung loose around her neck. Clearly something had her in a tizzy, and as soon as she saw the radio demon materialize in the room, she rushed towards him.

“Angel knows about us!” she blurted out.

Alastor blinked a few times at her. “Would you like me to kill him?”

“What? No!” She shook her head. “It’s my fault, Al. I sort of accidentally told him. And he said he’s known for months!” She took a deep breath. “But it’s fine, it’s fine! He promised not to tell anyone. I trust Angel. I know he’ll keep his word.”

“Hmm.” The radio demon took off his jacket and hung it on his coat rack. “Well, while on the topic of people sticking their noses in our private affairs… old Husker is also aware of our non-business partnership.”

“What?!” Charlie fell back on the loveseat and clutched her head. “Oh geeze, this is gonna spiral out of control until everyone in the hotel knows! We should just tell everyone now. I can call a meeting after breakfast tomorrow and we’ll announce that we’re a couple. And you can just skip town for a few weeks to give my dad enough time to process it!” She laughed nervously. “It’ll be fine!”

“There’s no need to worry, darling.” He sat down next to her. “I know Husk will keep his word as well. He knows better than to do otherwise.”

“We need to tell people eventually, Al. Maybe this is the universe telling us that now is the right time.”

Alastor grumbled in disagreement. The secrecy of their relationship was something he quite enjoyed, and not just because the sneaking around and lying made things exciting. He wanted Charlie all for himself. He didn’t want to share any part of what they have with anyone else.

“Or maybe two of our dear friends who’ve been at this hotel with us since the start just happened to notice a slight change in our relationship,” he replied. “We just need to be more careful, is all.”

She thought for a moment. “I guess you’re right. Two people knowing isn’t that big of a deal. Three if you count Rosie. That’s manageable, right?”

“Well…” Alastor tossed his head from side to side. “Three and a half.”

She frowned. “What do you mean and a half?”

“There’s also Vox.”

“WHAT?!”

“After that little scuffle I had with him, he’s at least aware that I have a soft spot for you,” Alastor confessed. “But we don’t have to worry about him either. Unless Vox wants another hole in his head, I’m sure he’ll keep his non-existent nose out of our business.”

The princess jumped up from her seat and began pacing again. “This is bad, this is bad, this is bad,” she began muttering to herself.

“Charlie.” Alastor took both her hands and pull her back towards him. “No one else is going to find out. And those that already know wouldn’t dare breathe a word of it to anyone else.” His grin stretched sinisterly. “They know what would happen if they do.”

She sighed and sat down on his knees. “Maybe I am overreacting.”

“You know I admire your work ethic, darling, but you’ve been running yourself ragged recently.” He curled an arm around her waist and pull her properly into his lap. With a snap of his fingers, a glass of liquor appeared in his hand, which he handed to her. “Now I insist you forget about work, forget about the hotel, forget about who knows what about whoever, and just relax and have a drink with me.” He conjured another glass for himself and clinked it against hers.

She smiled gratefully at him and took a long sip from her drink. With a content hum, she leaned against his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. He snapped his fingers again and a shadowy hand slithered along the floor to his phonograph, then dropped the needle down on the record. Warm woodwinds and a tinkling piano filled the room with a mellow melody as the pair sat in comfortable silence and enjoyed each other’s company. After a moment, Charlie began chuckling to herself.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You know, all that stuff that happened with Vox and the overlord summit suddenly makes a ton of sense now.” She scrunched her nose at him. “You were jealous of him, weren’t you?”

Alastor let out a loud cackle. “Ha! Me? Jealous of Vox? What a ridiculous notion.”

“So you threw a tantrum, blew out the electricity in the hotel, crashed his party, then kicked the shit out of him because…?”

He took a sip of his drink. “I didn’t crash his party. I was invited, I just didn’t RSVP. Key difference there, my dearest.”

“Uh huh. Sure, Al,” she teased.

“Alright, maybe I was the teeniest bit jealous,” he admitted. “Can you blame me for wanting your charming company all to myself? It’s especially difficult to come by nowadays when you spend so much time doting on our newest hotel guest.”

“Who, Bull? Don’t tell me you’re jealous of him too!”

The radio demon grumbled into his glass. “He’s a bit of an apple-polishing lickspittle if you ask me.”

“He’s just trying to make a good first impression,” she replied. “He came to the hotel to better himself, and that’s what I’m gonna help him do.”

“Can he do so with all his clothes on, at least?”

She laughed. “For what it’s worth, Bull isn’t my type. He’s too-” She made a face and puffed out her chest. “Beefy.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow playfully. “Because he’s a cow?”

“And he doesn’t make nearly as many bad jokes as you do.” She linked her arm around his neck, cradling the back of his head with her hand. “You don’t need to be jealous, Alastor. Of Vox, of Bull, of anyone. It’s you I want to be with.”

The sentiment made his chest burn. He took another sip of his drink, hoping the alcohol would temper the swell of emotions that wanted to rise up out of him.

“Vox just wanted to steal you away from me,” he began. “But that Bull fellow? There’s something off about him, Charlie. I can’t quite put my finger on what.”

She shook her head. “Can you at least promise you’ll stop busting out all the lights every time you go overprotective boyfriend mode on me?”

His smile warmed with affection. Boyfriend. It was such a juvenile way to refer to someone, best reserved for hormone-riddled teenagers with their letterman jacket proposals and lunchroom divorces. But he did so love to hear Charlie call him that. He’s been many things to many people, but this was something he was exclusively for her.

“I’ll make no such promises,” he said.

Alastor leaned in, watching Charlie’s eyes flutter close as he captured her lips with his own. Her mouth opened, bottom lip dragging deliberately against his as she pressed deeper into their kiss. She tasted like her own specialty cocktail, mixed just for him. A blend of the brandy they’d been drinking and something sweet that was uniquely her.

He licked at the seam of her lips before his tongue slipped eagerly into her mouth. The princess squeaked at the intrusion, though welcomed it by sucking the slippery appendage between her lips and entangling it with her own. He snatched up both their glasses and placed them on the side table, freeing up both his hands to dance along her curves. He settled them on her hips, fingers kneading into her soft flesh as he inched her closer to him.

His entire body felt hot and heavy. The heady fog in his mind made him feel inebriated, though he knew he was far from tipsy. Her fingers twitched and tapped along his neck, like a hammer striking the strings inside a piano, as they send ripples of pleasure through him. Searing kiss after searing kiss was shared between them, and there was a groan lodge deep in his throat that was waiting to erupt out of him once he had a chance to breathe. He could feel his cock rapidly swelling in his trousers and knew Charlie had to feel it throbbing against the underside of her thigh.

Something sank its hooks into the radio demon’s brain, trying to pull him above the surface of his emotions so he could see reason. He knew he should stop. The desire burning through him was teetering on the edge of something dangerous. What’s more, he had no fucking clue what he was doing. But he was desperate for more of her, to take as much as she would give him, to see how close he could push himself to the point of no return.

One hand slowly rose to the small of her waist. He tucked his thumb under her suspender and followed it up to where it lifted off her stomach and over the swell of her breasts. Lightly he rubbed his thumb along her ribcage, then inched it a little higher to press gently against the bottom of her breast. Her lips trembled against his and she drew herself closer, which was permission enough for him to keep going. Fingers twitching anxiously, he curled one around her suspender and gave it a tug so it slipped off her shoulder. She didn’t break from their kiss as she worked her arm through it and allowed it to fall loose behind her back. Then his touch continued upwards, fingers ghosting over the curve of her breast before taking it fully in his hand.

Charlie let out a shuddered breath into his mouth. He broke slightly from their kiss, nose still pressed against hers. As he squeezed her breast, he felt her shudder again.

“I’m sorry, my dearest,” Alastor murmured against her lips. “I’m finding it increasingly difficult to keep my hands off you.”

“I-I… I don’t mind,” she managed to squeak out before he caught her mouth again.

He squeezed her breast more firmly, kneading it against his palm as he marveled at how much of it there was to fill his hand. All parts of Charlie looked soft and so very touchable, but these womanly features of hers had enticed him for far too long. Every time she hurried down the stairs and her chest bounced with her steps, or when she’d undo a few buttons and her cleavage would peek out from beneath her shirt, or the way her breasts would squish against his chest when she’d pull him into a tight embrace. For months now, he fantasized about touching her like this. Her breast was heavier than expected, surprisingly warm, and softer than he could have ever imagined. Even through the confinements of her shirt and brassiere, it felt lush and lovely in his hand.  

Much more hastily, he knocked her opposite suspender off her shoulder and began to give that breast the same attention. He worked the pair of them between his hands, digging his claws in a little harder than he needed to feel the malleable flesh mold to his ministrations.

Charlie panted into his mouth and pulled away with a sharp gasp. Alastor could feel her chest heaving against his hands as she caught her breath. As he gave her a moment to do so, he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. Almost involuntarily, his eyes closed as she overwhelmed his senses. He’s never been this close to her before, close enough to really feel how soft her skin was. Smooth, luxurious, like he was pressing his face into a velvet blanket. He continued rubbing his nose along her jawline and felt her head tilt slightly as he made his way down her neck. A light floral scent clung to her skin, maybe her perfume or shampoo or remnants of her time out in the hotel garden. Her pulse was thrumming so rapidly beneath her skin, he could feel it pitter-patter against his cheek.

She let out a quivery exhale and her head flung back as she bared her neck to him. His lips ghosted against her skin and he could feel her entire body arch into the barely-there touch. The taste of her teased his lips and he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his open mouth against her neck.

“A-Alastor…” she whimpered softly.

Something feral flared in his chest and his eyes shot wide, pupils small and glowing red inside their pitch-black sockets. Of all the times Alastor has heard someone plead his name - in fear, in anger, in annoyance - he’s never heard it like this. Charlie’s plead was desperate, but it wasn’t for mercy. No. She was begging for something else that he was eager to give her.

And why shouldn’t he? She was his business partner, after all. It was his responsibility to attend to her needs. And now that he was also her romantic partner, why shouldn’t he attend to those needs as well? She worked so diligently at this hotel, catering to every whim of the thoughtless, ungrateful souls here and rarely doing anything for herself. Was it not his duty as both the hotel’s host and her boyfriend to make sure she felt appreciated?

She deserved to feel good.

And he deserved to be the one to make her feel good.

Alastor kissed the same spot on her neck, lingering as he sucked the delicate skin into his mouth. It would be so easy to sink his teeth into her flesh, to mar all that pretty opalescent skin, to rip at her tendons and satisfy this hunger in the only way he’s ever known.

But as he had her at his mercy, teeth pressed like a dagger against her pulse point, all he wanted was to hear her moan his name again.

He licked and sucked around her neck, leaving a necklace of flushed skin and tiny welts. The mark she had left on him had taken a few days to heal, and he felt a smug satisfaction at knowing she’d be wearing this evidence of his affection for much longer than that.

The top few buttons of her shirt were undone and as his hands groped eagerly at her breasts, it was much too tempting to explore further. His thumb flicked at the next button, loosening her shirt enough so he could wriggle a hand inside. There was still her brassiere to contend with, but enough of her was spilling out of the cup to get an ample handful. He groaned as he felt the warm skin of her breast directly on his fingertips. Enthusiasm got the better of him, and as he groped and squeezed a little too roughly, he felt her jolt in his lap when his claws nipped her skin.

The sudden movement caused her to press her hips flush to his and the friction against his crotch brought his own need to the forefront of his mind. His erection strained painfully against its confines and the wave of pleasure that hit him caused him to snarl against Charlie’s neck. He pressed a closed-mouth kiss to it, dampening the sound before it could warp into something lewder.

The princess shifted in his lap and started to slowly rock against him. His ears twitched each time he heard the tiny hitch in her breath, a barely audible “ah!” that could have been a gasp or the start to his name. He could feel the most intimate part of her pressed against his cock, and as she grinded against him, it was like she was striking flintstone and creating a blazing heat between them.

He pressed a sloppy kiss to the dip in her collarbone and dragged his mouth down until he found the soft, malleable flesh of her cleavage.

“D-Darling… you’re so… s-so soft…” he groaned. His voice barely sounded like his own, warbly and broken as he tried to maintain what little control he had left.

“Oh god, Al…” she moaned, twisting her hand in the tangles of his hair.

She held his head firmly against her chest, encouraging him to continue. He’s not sure he would have been able to stop even if she yanked him away, too consumed with his desire to leave his mark on every inch of her skin that he could reach. He felt her fingers dig into his scalp as she bucked hard against him. His eyes rolled back into the cavern of static inside his head from how good that felt against his cock.

Almost too good, because the familiar pressure building low in his gut made Alastor realize he was very close to cumming. And not only was he mortified by the idea of Charlie witnessing him pop off in his trousers after a few minutes of her wriggling in his lap, he was supposed to be focused on her. He couldn’t allow his control of this situation to slip any further.

Hands returning to her hips, he lifted her up and seated her on one of his thighs. She let out a surprised “oh!” but he didn’t give her a chance to say anything else before he lunged for her mouth again. He began rocking her against his leg, encouraging her to chase her pleasure.

“Does this feel good?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she gasped, arching her body as she rolled her hips hard against his thigh.

“How about this?” He pressed his mouth to the top of her cleavage, then lazily licked a stripe up to her jaw.

“Y-Yes!”

“Good. You deserve to feel good, darling.”

Alastor sunk his claws into her hips, keeping her on his thigh but allowing her to set the pace as she grinded against him. Even through the layers of both their clothes, he could feel how hot the spot between her legs was. She bucked against him harder and harder, surging deeper into their kiss each time as her entire body swayed with the motion. Half her lipstick had smeared across her face and he was sure the other half was smeared across his.

“A-Al… Alastor… I’m… I’m…”

She suddenly ripped away from their kiss and buried her face in his neck, crying out as tremors wracked through her body. In a panic, Alastor froze and wrenched his hands from her waist, unsure if he had taken things too far and this had all become too much for her. He felt as her thighs squeezed tight on either side of his leg and her fingers tugged frantically at the roots of his hair. Then he felt her full weight collapse against him as her body went boneless.

Oh.

Did she just-?

Charlie looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the red of her sclera fading back to gold. “Fuck,” she breathed out.

With a smile so wide it nearly sickled his face in half, Alastor combed his fingers through her mussed hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Did you enjoy yourself, darling?”

The princess scrunched her nose at him, but the deep pink flush to her face answered his question. She placed a hand on his chest and slowly trailed it down, coming to rest at his navel. Below that, his neglected erection strained against his trousers. She bit her lip and moved her hand lower, gently cupping his bulge. “Do you… want to keep going?” she asked timidly.

A jolt of arousal passed through Alastor and he lurched back, causing her to slide off his lap and onto the loveseat. “N-No!” he blurted out, a little too quickly. His cock throbbed in disagreement, begging to be touched again. He ignored it. “Charlie, my sweet, it was enough for me to please you.” He took her hand and planted a kiss against her knuckle. “I’m fine.”

“Oh. Okay, if you say so.” She sounded disappointed, but didn’t push the matter further.

The radio demon rose to his feet and made his way to his phonograph. Needing a moment to pull himself together, he pretended to browse through his records, then fiddled with the needle for a few minutes before placing a new disc on the turntable.

“So… umm… how’s Rosie?” Charlie asked. “What was it she wanted to talk to you about?”

“Oh, nothing important. Just that there’s another overlord meeting coming up in a few weeks. And rumor has it that flat-faced sycophant is back among the unliving.”

“You’re not gonna go to that thing just to kick his ass again are you?”

When Alastor turned back towards the princess, he saw that she had already buttoned up her shirt and was now fixing her hair. He watched her for a moment, the corner of his smile twitching when he saw the splotches of flushed skin that her collar couldn’t cover.

“A tempting proposition, but no,” he replied. “Besides, Vox attends even less of those meetings than I do. He usually just sends that fashion floozy of his to represent the Vee’s.” He sat down on the arm of the loveseat. “But I was planning on attending myself. Would you like to accompany me?”

“Really?” Her face brightened and an excited smile spread across her face. “You want me to go with you?”

“With everything that’s happened recently, I’m sure the hotel will be a hot topic of discussion again. And you’ve always done a much better job of defending this place than I have.”

“Yes! Of course I’ll come!” She wriggled with excitement, then suddenly her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips at him. “You’re not just asking me so I can be your arm candy in case Vox does decide to show up?”

The radio demon gave her a mischievous grin and shrugged, not denying it.

Chapter Text

Beneath the chin. Under the hinge of her jaw. Where her shirt collar meets her neck.

Alastor memorized every mark he had left on his beloved princess. And days later, when the bruises had faded and the faint discoloration was easily covered by a bit of makeup, he could still trace the path with his eyes, still feel her warm skin against his lips, still hear her soft gasps of his name.

As he watched her now, happily prattling on about forgiveness and honesty and the dozens of other virtues she was trying to cram into today’s lesson, his gaze continued down her neck to her chest. Clammy palms rubbed against the top of his cane as he remembered the heavy, full feeling of her breasts in his hands. There was a button on her shirt that hung a little looser than the others, just barely managing to stay in its hole. His eyebrows quirked up for a moment. Was that his doing? Despite his enthusiasm that night, it had not been his intention to be so clumsy. Though perhaps he was just accustomed to unbuttoning his own shirt. He’s never done it for someone else.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. He just needed to take more care next time.

And Alastor was so very eager for a next time.

There was a cruel irony in this game he was playing with himself. The more he tried to temper his desires, the more they blazed out of control. And the more they blazed out of control, the more terrifying their unknown consequences became.

He could only allow himself to savor Charlie like a well-aged whiskey. Slowly, sip by sip. Not wasting a drop, but not being greedy and filling his glass too high. Because when the bottle was empty, there’d be nothing left of her.

But some days, like today, he was so fucking thirsty.

The princess had been pacing around the hotel lounge as she spoke, and when a few hotel guests began chiming in with their opinions, she sat on the arm of the sofa and eagerly listened. As she leaned towards the person who was talking, her hips rolled from side to side to balance her weight.

Alastor sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. He could practically feel her seated on his thigh again, rocking against it, the heat between her legs burning through the layers of their clothes. There had been a frenetic energy that coiled around them both, right before all that tension snapped and she…

Radio dials flashed in his eyes for a moment. He had caused that.

Well, he had helped, at least. She did most of the work herself.

He shifted from hoof to hoof, feeling a restlessness settle in his bones. Glancing down at where his trousers had started to tent, his lip snarled in disgust. He needed to stop doing this. It had become a nasty habit for him, letting his mind wander so deep into debauched devilry that he got himself all worked up at very inopportune moments. Chastising himself for his vulgar thoughts, he knocked his cane against his skull a few times.

“Does that sound good to you, Alastor?”

Her voice shot like lightning down his spine. With all eyes turned towards him, he quickly composed himself, leaning over on his cane to conceal the compromised situation between his legs. Charlie smiled expectantly at him and he realized not only had he not heard what she asked him, he was also completely clueless as to what today’s group activity was even about. His grin widened innocuously and he gave her a thumbs up.

She bounced up from her seat and approached him. “Alrighty! So Alastor will take things from here and lead you guys in the next few scenarios.”

He looked down at the very thick stack of index cards she just placed in his hand. “I’m doing what now?”

After fumbling his way through the group activity, Alastor spent the rest of the afternoon in a purgatory of his own creation. Charlie had excused herself early, which was peculiar for her, and despite his desire to spend some quality alone time together, he didn’t want to seem too eager for her company. So he sat in his radio tower and waited for her to seek him out.

And he waited…

And he waited…

And he barely made it thirty minutes before he disappeared in a swirl of black smoke. He materialized a moment later inside Charlie’s bedroom, perching himself atop her desk. He had expected to find her seated there, nose down in her work, but the room was empty. There was a clatter in the ensuite bathroom and he hopped off the desk to investigate.

“Charlie?”

“Be right out!”

The door was slightly ajar. In the sink mirror, Alastor caught a glimpse of something long, curvy, and white. He quickly averted his eyes, feeling his face flush with heat.

“A-Ah! Apologies. I didn’t mean to catch you when you’re indecent.” Eyes to the floor, he began shuffling back towards the bedroom door. “I’ll… I’ll just step outside…”

“It’s fine!” she called back. “Gimme a minute. I’m just getting changed.”

He clutched his fists tightly, nails slicing into his palms and eyes trembling in their sockets as it took every modicum of self-control he had to not look back up. The bathroom door squeaked as it opened wider. Curiosity (along with a few more unsavory urges) got the better of him and he snuck another peek. She was clothed now, much to his shameful disappointment, and was zipping up the modestly-cut pink dress she had put on.

“Changed for what?” he asked, curious about her formal attire. “I don’t recall us having plans tonight.”

“I have that meeting with heaven about boosting the interdimensional communication lines.”

“Meeting with heaven?” he repeated, smile turning on its corners in his version of a scowl. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of that?”

She poked her head out of the bathroom and gave him a look. “It’s not. I told you about it last week. And yesterday. And this morning. And literally an hour ago when I asked you to cover for me so I could go get ready. Don’t you remember? It’s just here in town at the Heaven Embassy. Dad’s coming with me.”

He gave a belligerent huff and crossed his arms. “Well, I stopped listening as soon as you mentioned your father.”

She rolled her eyes and ducked back into the bathroom. “Of course you did.”

“Why does he need to go with you?” Alastor continued. “Why can’t I?”

“It’s a bit outside your wheelhouse, Al. Dad has to do some fancy schmancy ancient magic to make things work on our end. This interdimensional stuff doesn’t really operate on regular radio waves.” He heard her curse under her breath. “Oh, this stupid thing!”

Charlie reappeared, arms twisted behind her back as she wrestled with the zipper on her dress. “Could you get this for me?”

He nodded and made a twirling motion with his finger. She turned around and gathered her long hair over her shoulder and out of the way. The zipper was about two thirds of the way up already and looked like it had gotten snagged on a bit of frayed thread. He grasped the zipper pull between two fingers and gave it a tug, but it didn’t budge. After a few more yanks, it was still stuck, and he made a noise to indicate he was equally unsuccessful.

“Trying pulling it down, then all the way up in one go.” She made a quick zipping motion with her hand.

The radio demon obliged, not thinking anything of it as he began unzipping her dress. But when the zipper reached its end, at the spot just above the swell of her backside, his eyes raked up the long column of skin that had just been exposed to him. A few strands of hair had fallen down her back and he gingerly brushed them over her shoulder. His touch lingered, pressing two fingers against the nape of her neck and tracing it down the smooth curve of her spine. They stopped at the back strap of her brassiere. He ran his thumb back and forth over the fabric, studying each little set of hooks and eyelets that held it securely fastened. His fingernail caught on one of them and he gave it the gentlest of tugs, curious if it was enough to unhook it.

“Alastor…” Charlie said softly.

He glanced up and saw both their reflections in the bathroom mirror. She was watching him intensely, a flush to her cheeks that nearly matched the pink shade of her dress. His eyes were blown wide and black, the red radio dials at their centers quivering in tandem with the low hum of static that surrounded them. He dragged his fingers down to the base of her spine, slowly, deliberately, feeling her skin erupt with goosebumps along the path of his touch. Then he finally grasped the zipper pull again, and doing as he had been instructed, zipped it up in one swift motion. They both released the shared breath they’d been holding, still watching each other in the mirror’s reflection. Her eyes darted up to the crown of his head where his antlers had sprouted a few more prongs.

“Should I be concerned you’re getting this dolled up for someone who isn’t me?” he murmured.

“It’s just some members of the angelic council,” she answered.

He raised an eyebrow teasingly at her. “So that bug bastard gets to spend time with you this evening and I don’t?”

She scrunched her nose in amusement and turned around to face him. “You know it’s important for couples to spend time apart sometimes. What do you usually do when I’m busy with hotel stuff?”

“Teeter on the brink of boredom and madness while I wait for you to finish, darling.”

She poked him in the chest. “Well, I insist you do something fun tonight. Angel and a bunch of the guys are going out later. You should join them!”

He gave an incredulous cackle. “Why would I want to subject myself to that kind of self-inflicted torture?”

“Aww, c’mon Al. Aren’t night clubs basically the modern equivalent of speakeasies? I’m sure you’ll have a nice time! And it’ll be a good opportunity for you to get to know our hotel guests a little better. Some of them have been here for over a year and you still can’t remember their names!”

“I’m plenty chummy with our group of sad little misfits,” he defended.

“Oh really?” The princess put her hands on her hips. “Then what are the names of the two guys from Carmilla’s warehouse?"

“Well, that’s easy! There’s Guy and… umm… Fella.”

“It’s Manny and Twunk,” she corrected.

He snapped his finger and shot her a finger gun. “Yes! Them too.”

She shook her head. “Alright, you don’t have to get all buddy-buddy with everyone, but could you at least try to have a fun time with them tonight? Please? For me?” She clasped her hands together and pressed them underneath her chin, batting her long eyelashes at him.

Those big crimson eyes of hers never failed to snag him in an inescapable trap. Charlie really could be a master of manipulation when she wanted to be. He’d love to take credit for being a bad influence on her, but this was a tactic she had crafted all on her own.

Alastor grumbled in reluctant agreement. “Fiiine.”

Wiggling with excitement, she put her hands on his shoulders and rose to the tips of her hooves so she could kiss him on the cheek. He grumbled again. That was another tactic that was alarmingly effective on him.

Alastor swirled the cheap whiskey around in his mouth before reluctantly swallowing it down. He looked at the grimy glass in his hand, covered in smudged fingerprints that weren’t his own, and tried not to think about how he was probably swapping saliva with every patron whose ever use that same glass. The table he was sitting at wobbled on uneven legs, and as he shifted in his seat to get comfortable, the bottom of his boots peeled away from the sticky floor.

And he thought Husk was a lousy barkeep. This night club was such an offense to the art of inebriated merriment, it almost made him wish hell had its own version of Prohibition.

His eyes scanned the drunken debauchery, straining as they tried to adapt to the neon strobe lights that pulsed in time to the deafening electronic dance music blaring through the speakers. Peppy the adulterer and Leonard from Cannibal Town were at the bar with a teetering tower of empty shot glasses between them. Ted the lizard pervert was tossing dollar bills into the tank of what he thought was an aquatic exotic dancer. (Alastor was certain it was just a particularly bulbous octopus inside a poorly maintained aquarium.) Niffty was skittering between the tables and stealing every unattended drink she could get her little bug hands on.

“Smiley! There you are! Have you just been sulking in this corner the entire night?”

Static buzzed irritably against the back of Alastor’s clenched teeth. Angel Dust was coming towards him, drinks in two of his hands and the other two dragging along Husk, who seemed to share the radio demon’s level of enthusiasm for this place. They both squeezed into the booth on the other side of him.

“Can you at least pretend to have fun so I don’t have to lie to Charlie about you having a good time tonight?” Angel asked. He nodded towards the stage at the center of the night club. “Look! Even Bull’s letting loose!”

Bull had been pulled on stage by some of the dancers and of course he had already lost his shirt. One of the dancers was waving it at him like a matador. As the audience cheered, he made a big show of snorting and stomping his hooves before he chased after her. Alastor rolled his eyes at the theatrics. The crowd began hooting and hollering, and Angel put two fingers in his mouth and whistled a shrill catcall.

Husk grumbled his disapproval. “Maybe too loose,” he said.

“Aww, let the new guy have his fun. Not like he’s had much to do out in the badlands. What’s out there to get your rocks off aside from actual rocks?”

“How do you think he got all those holes in his chest?” Husk asked.

Alastor hadn’t noticed them before, the series of puncture wounds that lined the lower half of the bull demon’s abdomen. They were perfectly aligned, like he had been stabbed with the same two-pronged instrument in quick succession, and disappeared into the high waist of his trousers.

“It looks like he gored himself,” Alastor said.

Angel hummed with intrigue. “Kinky!”

The pair sat with the radio demon for a few more minutes, though he had no desire to engage in further conversation with them. As he forced down another sip of his drink, Angel Dust began chatting again.

“So you and Charlie. How’s that going?”

Alastor’s eyes glowed red for a moment as he glared at the spider demon. “Just because you’re aware of our relationship doesn’t mean you’re privy to every detail about it.”

“Aww, c’mon. It’s just us guys.” Angel motioned between the three of them. “Can you blame me for being curious? I saw those hickeys Charlie was trying to hide on her neck. Looks like you gnawed on her like a chew toy! I bet you’ve been showing her a real good time.”

Heat crept up the radio demon’s collar like an army of fire ants. “Our private matters are none of your business.”

“I can only imagine the freaky shit you do with those tentacles of yours. They’re like built-in sex toys, right?”

Alastor choked on the swig of whiskey he had just attempted to swallow and started coughing as the harsh liquor struggled down his throat. His entire face was burning now, up to the twitching tips of his ears. “I-I said it’s none of your business!” he sputtered angrily.

Angel threw his hands up in resignation. “Fine, fine. Be a gentleman about it or whatever.”

Alastor grumbled a few choice words under his breath and stared down at his empty glass, the heat flushing his face refusing to dissipate. He could feel Angel Dust’s eyes on him, hear the tapping of all twenty of his fingers on the table. Like he was clacking away on an invisible typewriter and writing some damning dissertation of the radio demon’s relationship with the princess.

The tapping suddenly stopped and Angel’s eyes widened in realization. “Holy shit. You haven’t stuck it in yet, have you?”

Alastor snapped his head up so abruptly, it nearly broke his neck. “I beg your pardon?!”

“You and Charlie haven’t had sex!”

“I-” Alastor blinked twice, each sounding like the screech of a microphone too close to an amplifier.

“Haven’t you two been together for a few months now? What the hell is taking you so long?! You waiting until you get hitched or something?”

“O-Our… s-she… I-I…” Static swelled between each word, cracking high as he failed to tuned himself to a single coherent thought. “H-How DARE… why, I ought to…!”

Husk got up from the table. “I need another drink.” He glanced back at the radio demon, whose ears steamed like twin chimney pipes as he stammered through a few more half-formed threats. “On second thought, I’ll grab a round for the table.”

“I know you’re old-fashioned,” Angel continued. “But I didn’t think you were that old-fashioned. You know you’re in hell, right? You can bump uglies before marriage down here and ain’t nobody gonna judge you for it.”

Alastor put his head in his hands and considered crushing his own skull to get out of the conversation. “Please stop talking.”

Angel leaned in closer, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “If you’re a little dick shy, I could warm Charlie up for ya. Only if she’s into that, of course.”

The radio demon’s eye began twitching. “Don’t you prefer the company of men?”

“Oh please. Have you seen Charlie? Not even I’m that gay.”

A deranged grin split Alastor’s face, teeth audibly grinding from how tightly they were clenched. “If you ever make such a crude comment about my girlfriend again, I’ll rip off all eight of your limbs and play badminton with your torso.”

The threat of dismemberment completely unfazed Angel Dust. Pressing his hands to his cheeks, he gave the radio demon an obnoxiously affectionate look. “Aww, you called Charlie your girlfriend!” He waved at Husk, who had reappeared with a tray of drinks. “Did you hear that Husk? Alastor called Charlie his girlfriend!”

Husk didn’t say anything as he placed the tray on the table, but there was something pointed and judgmental in the sideways glance he threw Alastor before sitting down.

“What?” Alastor barked. “Do you have something to say about that?”

The tiny cat man’s expression didn’t change. “No.”

“Anyways,” Angel jumped in again. “I may not be an expert on girls but I am an expert on getting laid. Lemme offer you some advice, Alastor.”

Alastor took one of the glasses from the tray and knocked the entire thing back. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

Angel ignored his request. “A gal like Charlie is all about the romance. You gotta woo her! Take her on a nice date, show her a good time, make her feel like she’s the only girl in the entire universe who’s ever mattered to you. By the end of the night, you’ll know if she wants to do the horizontal tango. And if you get her down to her drawers and see that her panties match her bra?” His grin curled mischievously and he winked. “Then she already made up her mind about having sex with you.”

The radio demon’s claws scratched into the cheap veneer of the table as he tried not to imagine Charlie in a set of matching undergarments, sprawled out on her bed, eager and ready for him to finally consummate their relationship. He snatched another drink and swallowed down that one too.

“I don’t need you to tell me how to woo Charlie,” he snapped defensively. “I’ve done quite a successful job of that already.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you’re a regular Don Giovanni. But you’ve obviously been out of the game for a while. There’s no shame in that! You still remember where all the holes are, right? And which ones to stick it in?”

Feedback screeched in the air as Alastor shattered the dirty tumbler in his hand, showering himself in alcohol and shards of glass. “That’s it. I think I fraternized enough with you lot to last me for the next millennia. I’ll be waiting outside for when you imbeciles are done obliterating your last braincells with bad booze.” He shot up, knocking into the table and sending the rest of the glasses sloshing, before stomping angrily through the night club in his whiskey-soaked trousers.

Once outside, he leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths to stop his head from spinning. Whether from drinking a tankard worth of cheap whiskey or being interrogated about his sex life (more accurately, his lack of one), he felt like he was about to puke. Just as the boxer using his brain as a punching bag took a break, he came in for round two when the cacophonous laughter of his fellow hotel residents came pouring out of the night club.

Niffty was sitting atop Bull’s head and making her own sound effects as she gripped his horns like the handlebars of a motorcycle. The bull demon had hauled a whimpering Ted over his shoulder, who was missing an arm.

“What happened to him?” Alastor asked.

“He challenged Niffty to an arm-wrestling contest,” Bull explained.

Niffty let out a maniacal cackle. “I won!”

As Ted continued groaning in pain, Bull patted him sympathetically on the back. “But it’ll grow back, won’t it buddy?”

Angel Dust slung an arm around Husk’s shoulder as they began walking down the sidewalk. “Well, aside from Charlie saying we needed to bring everyone home in one piece, I consider this a successful bonding night!”

Alastor fell to the back of the group, lurking a few paces behind everyone else as they made their way back to the hotel. He noticed Husk kept glancing back at him, with that same tense expression he had at the night club. He slipped out from under Angel’s arm and slowed his pace to match the radio demon’s. The pair walked in silence for a moment before Alastor let out an impatient huff.

“Whatever it is, Husker, just spit it out already.”

“What’s our endgame here, boss?”

Alastor gave him an amused look and nodded towards their drunken companions stumbling down the street. “To make it back to the hotel without anyone else losing a limb.”

“No, I mean at the hotel. What’s your goal? Our goal? I’m contractually obligated to go along with whatever crazy plan you’ve been concocting, remember?”

“I don’t have one,” Alastor replied offhandedly. “I’m just enjoying the chaos. And our dear sweet princess’s company, of course.”

“Yeah, you and I both know that’s bullshit.”

Boots scuffing against the concrete, Alastor stopped dead in his tracks. “Excuse me?”

“So what? You’ll play house with Charlie until she gets sick of you and kicks you out on your bony ass?”

The radio demon laughed. “I’m a bit offended you just assume she’s going to get sick of me!”

Husk pointed an accusing finger at him. “You were scheming something and I have a hard time believing you’d just give all that up. Even for Charlie. Why did you really bring us to the hotel, Alastor?”

“It doesn’t matter what my original intentions were. They’ve changed. For once in this damned existence of ours, I’m just winging it. And it’s been quite fun, hasn’t it?” Alastor gestured towards the group, who were about a block ahead of them now. Angel Dust looked over his shoulder and smiled at Husk, nodding for him to catch up. “Besides, you seem perfectly content with our arrangements here.”

Something clouded Husk’s expression for a moment, then his eyes sharpened as he glared at the radio demon. “So you’re just gonna keep lying to Charlie?”

Alastor gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s old news, Husker. Why would I want to sully our relationship by bringing up all that flimflam? What Charlie doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Husk shook his head. “Yeah. You keep telling yourself that.” He brushed past Alastor to rejoin the others, then stopped. Cold eyes peered over his shoulder, though the anger in them had waned into disappointment. “One of these days, she’s going to see you for the double-dealing bastard you really are. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself when all this blows up in your face.”

A white-hot rage blazed through Alastor, green flames licking his fists and radio dials glowing red in his eyes. He summoned a tendril, which wrapped itself around the back of Husk’s suspenders and tossed him into the nearby alleyway. He landed with a pained grunt and looked up just as the radio demon’s tall frame blotted out the little bit of light that leaked down the narrow side street. Ethereal green chains manifested in his hands and he yanked hard, pulling Husk back to his feet.

“I don’t know where this suddenly disrespect came from, thinking you can talk to me this way.” Alastor wrapped the chain around and around his fist, pulling it taut, and dragged the cat demon close. “But I suggest you choose your next words carefully.”

Husk gripped at the shackle around his neck, defiance flickering in his eyes. “Or you’ll what? Strike me down right here?”

More tendrils were now undulating around the radio demon’s form. “Don’t tempt me,” he growled.

“What would Charlie think of you if you did? Or are you not gonna tell her that either?” Husk scoffed. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?”

Blood pounded in Alastor’s ears as his fury threatened to consume him. He lifted Husk off the ground, considering all the ways he could punish the belligerent bartender. Husk couldn’t run his mouth if it was sewn shut, nor have the guts to stick up to Alastor with his belly sliced open and his entrails spilt out.

A long, jagged fingernail dragged down the cat demon’s face. Then with a staticky hiss of frustration, the chains around him disappeared and Alastor dropped him to the ground.

“It would be wise for you to remember who you’re talking to,” he spat. “And not assume that the affection I have for the princess has tempered any part of me.” He summoned his cane and pointed with it to the end of the alleyway. “Now get out of my sight.”

Alone with his thoughts and simmering rage, Alastor put a hand to his own neck. An icy cold dread prickled and burned against his skin, like phantom shackles tightening around his throat. His hand dropped down to his chest, fingers trembling as they sunk in the fabric of his shirt. The chill had sharpened into an invisible dagger, tearing open the stitches to his angelic wound and twisting deep inside of him until that icy steel plunged into his heart.

He looked down towards the end of the alleyway, where the bright lights of the main street offered a beacon out of the darkness that surrounded him. His shadow slithered along the ground, snuffing out that light as it loomed over him with a threatening smile.

Alastor turned on his heels and ventured further down the dark side street, deciding to take the long way back to the hotel on his own.

“I didn’t think it was possible for Urrie to become an even bigger asshole than he already was, but yeesh! That bug-eyed prick is insufferable now. Wish I was there to see him get stabbed in the face.” Lucifer paused. “Err, don’t tell Alastor I said that.”

Charlie laughed. “I won’t.”

She and her father had returned from the Heaven Embassy a short while ago and were now in her bedroom. Every attempt she had made to say goodnight had spurred another longwinded conversation, about everything from a childhood memory she had long forgotten, to some heated commentary about one of his former angelic colleagues, to his observations about the politics of the monster raccoons that lurk near the hotel dumpster.

She didn’t mind. Whether because she was busy, she spent most of her free time with Alastor, or she felt that avoiding her father all together was easier than lying to him about her secret relationship, she hasn’t spent much time with him recently. So she was happy to indulge him now in whatever nonsensical banter he wanted to have with her.

“I miss our chats, kiddo,” Lucifer said. “It feels like I’ve barely seen horn or hoof of you recently.”

“I know,” Charlie replied, feeling that familiar guilt wash over her. “I’m sorry, dad. I’ve just been so busy with the hotel. A lot has happened the last few months.”

“Maybe if that good-for-nothing business partner of yours spent less time going on heavenly murder sprees and more time helping out around here, you wouldn’t have to work so hard.”

She rolled her eyes. This was another reason she didn’t spent much time with her father nowadays. It didn’t take long for him to start insulting her boyfriend. “We wouldn’t be where we are now without Alastor. All the ups and downs we’ve had at the hotel, he’s been right there by my side.”

“Yeah, well, seems like for every problem he fixes, he creates two more,” Lucifer grumbled.

“He’s a good partner, dad,” she defended. “Err, BUSINESS partner, that is!” Her voice cracked a bit too loudly as she quickly corrected herself. “When my ideas get so lofty that I start to float away with them, I can always count on him to keep me tethered. He knows when to reel me in or push me forward.” Charlie smiled softly and pressed a palm to her warmed cheek. “If I’m the kite, he’s the wrangler.”

She didn’t mean to sound so sentimental and was expecting her father to retort with another snarky comment. Instead, he had gone silent and turned to look out her bedroom window, eyes glossing over with a forlorn thoughtfulness. “Your mother was that for me,” he said quietly.

Emotion welled inside Charlie’s heart and she took his hand, squeezing it between both of her own. Something about this moment felt right and she mustered up what courage she could. “Dad,” she began. “Alastor and I, we’re… we’re…”

“Oh, Charlie darling! How I crave the sweet reprieve of your company after the evening I’ve endured!”

The moment was interrupted when Alastor suddenly appeared in a whirlwind of black shadows, magic crackling off his coattails. He spun dramatically on his heels with the intention of flopping down on her bed, then froze when he saw Lucifer sitting in the spot that he usually occupied.

The king scowled at him and pointed towards the door. “You ever heard of knocking?”

“Well, pardon me,” Alastor replied snippily as he dusted off his jacket. “I assumed Charlie checked you back into the old folk’s home once your little field trip was over.”

“Why are you barging in here so late anyways? Aren’t you usually up in your tower cranking that ham radio of yours this time of night?”

“Aren’t you late for this evening’s self-pity party? By now, I can usually hear your miserable wails from the other side of the hotel.” Alastor swung his fist through the air. “Ah! That must be why we’re having such difficulty with our recent recruitment efforts. Folks probably think the hotel is haunted by some sad, pathetic ghost!”

Lucifer hopped to his feet and jabbed his finger in the radio demon’s face. “If anyone is scaring people away from this place, it’s you!”

“Okay!” Charlie butted in, standing up to put a hand on both men’s shoulders. “I’m sure Alastor just wanted to catch me up on what happened at the hotel today. Isn’t that right, Al?”

Alastor’s murderous glare softened as he turned towards Charlie. “Precisely!” His cane appeared in his hand and he pressed the microphone to Lucifer’s back, forcing him towards the door. “You were just leaving anyways, yes?”

Lucifer stumbled forward, top hat going askew, and flailed his arms as he tried to knock the cane out of the radio demon’s hand. Alastor held it just out of reach, cackling gleefully as the king jumped and grabbed for it.

Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. Her father and boyfriend had been avoiding each other so effectively the last few months, she had almost fooled herself into thinking they’d been getting along. As she loudly cleared her throat, both men stopped what they were doing to look at her. Her eyes darted to Alastor and narrowed sternly. He looked at the cane in his hand, then it suddenly poofed out of existence. With an innocent whistle, he tucked his hands behind his back.

Lucifer grumbled a string of profanities under his breath as he straightened his top hat. “Business talk always puts me right to sleep anyways.” He shot one last daggered look at the radio demon. “Try not to stay up too late with this bozo, Char-Char.”

After saying goodnight to her father and closing the door, Charlie let out a tired sigh, then whipped around to confront Alastor. “What’s gotten into you? We’ll never be able to tell my dad about us if you pick a fight with him every time you two talk!”

He let out a prissy “hmph” and crossed his arms. “He started it.”

She rolled her eyes and headed over to her desk, where she began straightening up some of the papers strewn there. “So how was your night with Angel and the others?”

“Absolutely dreadful!” Alastor plopped himself down on the desk, right on top of the papers she was trying to organize.

She tugged a few loose that he was sitting on. “Aww c’mon, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh, but it was! The disgusting swill they called alcohol tasted like it was served from a toilet, my ears are still ringing from the terrible music they were playing, and it’ll take weeks to wash the stench of that place out of these clothes.”

“Did you at least have fun with everyone else?”

“No, no, that was the worst part! Keeping those idiots in loco parentis was most taxing. If they weren’t drinking themselves into a fugue state, galivanting around the place half naked, or getting an arm ripped off, they were poking and prodding me about my personal matters.”

“Wait, did you just say someone lost an arm?”

“I suppose it’s technically not lost. Niffty has it.”

Charlie winced. If Niffty was involved, she had a pretty good idea of what happened. “Well, I’m still proud of you for going. Even if you were a big grump about it.” She tapped him playfully on the nose.

Alastor hopped off the desk. “I can understand why the residents of our hotel were outcasts of society. Spending extended time with them is the worst kind of torture.” He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You might be the only person here I can tolerate in full doses, my dearest.”

She hummed contently and relaxed into his embrace, pressing her back against his chest. He took the stack of papers in her hand and tossed them on the desk, scattering them about again. As he began nuzzling against her neck, his hands linked even more tightly around her, forearms tucked right underneath her breasts.

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you tonight?” Charlie laughed softly as she leaned into his touch.

“Getting too chummy… running their mouths… thinking they know things…” he mumbled.

“What’s that?” she asked, only hearing fragments of what he said.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. How did your little telephone game with heaven go?”

“That Urrie guy was very happy you weren’t there. And then very unhappy my dad was instead. The communication lines still don’t last very long but they’re much more reliable now. I was actually thinking about Peppy’s letter writing idea and thought we could take it a step further and-”

“That’s just dandy. Super swell. I’m glad to hear it.” Alastor pressed his lips against her jaw, clearly not listening to what she was saying.

Charlie didn’t care, as she completely forgot what she was talking about when he began planting kisses down her neck. His hands crept up to cup her breasts, massaging them gently through her dress. She was quick to encourage his affection. One hand cradled the back of his head, fingers scratching against the base of his ears. The other she placed on top of his, squeezing it against her chest in a wordless approval of his actions. Her body jolted with pleasure as she felt his teeth prick her tender skin. She had a half-formed thought about needing to cover up another set of hickeys, but any warning she wanted to give him fizzled into a tiny whimper when she felt the hot suction of his mouth against her neck.

“O-Oh… Alastor… that’s…”

He gave a husky chuckle in response, static tickling her skin and sending a heady rush of heat straight to her core. She could feel him getting hard against her backside and her restless hips wriggled against him. With a grunt, his hands dropped to her waist, stilling her movements. He continued his assault on her neck, jagged teeth scraping down the column of flushed skin before he licked a wet, slobbery path back up. His claws kneaded needily into her thighs, inching the hemline of her dress higher and higher until his fingers were sinking into her bare skin.

“Such a lovely dress,” Alastor murmured. “You should wear it more often.”

His hands were so large, he could nearly wrap them entirely around each thigh. As he began aggressively squeezing the meaty flesh, his thumb dipped into her inner thigh. Charlie gasped, hips rolling into his touch. Arousal throbbed between her legs and his fingers were so, so close to it. She gripped tightly to his forearm, giving it a tug to encourage his exploration further. His fingernails sank like hooks into her skin, and the sting of them raking up and down her leg made her dizzy with a mix of pain and pleasure. Something wet trickled down her thigh and she wasn’t sure if he had drawn blood or it was her own excitement leaking from her pulsing cunt.

She could feel the radio demon’s chest heaving against her back, hear the rush of static from each of his labored breaths. His erection was hot and throbbing against her ass, and as his hips bucked forward, the full length of him pressed against her. She was desperate to feel more of him, but the iron grip he had on her hindered her movement.

“Al… let me…”

The princess snuck a hand behind her back and groped blindly at his thigh, fingers sliding into the V of his groin. They caressed up his thickened shaft and he sucked in a sharp, staticky breath that rang tinny in her ears. Then he ripped himself away from her, stumbling back towards her bed. Ears slicked back, he looked around the room in a panic, as if suddenly realizing where he was.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out, reaching out a hand towards him. When he flinched, she quickly withdrew it. “Did I do something wrong? I-I… I thought we were…”

“N-No,” Alastor panted. “No, of course not, I…” The grin on his face pained as he ran his hand through his mussed hair. “I-I must have drank too much cheap booze tonight. It’s got my head all fizzy.”

Charlie certainly didn’t want to take things too far if he was tipsy and not in his right mind. But this wasn’t the clumsy, cuddly, carefree Alastor who usually appeared when he had too much to drink. This Alastor was skittish, conflicted, and seemed bogged down with something heavier than alcohol.

He sat on the edge of her bed and she could see his erection still straining against his trousers. Her eyes widened when she saw the wet spot that had blossomed over the tip, visible even through the dark fabric.

“Are you… alright?” she asked timidly.

He followed her gaze and quickly snapped his legs shut, clamping his hands together tightly and dropping them like a dumbbell into his lap. “I’m fine. But I think my exhaustion from a day of over-socializing has finally caught up with me. I should probably turn in for the night.”

“I can walk with you up to your radio tower,” she offered. “Make sure you get back okay. You know, since you’re not feeling quite yourself.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he replied quickly, rising back up to his feet. “I’ll be going now. Goodnight, Charlie.” Shadows engulfed him and then he was gone, leaving without another word or a goodbye kiss.

She had reached out to stop him, but nothing except the residual wisps of his shadow magic wafted through her outstretched fingers. Her arm dropped defeatedly to her side.

“Goodnight, Alastor,” Charlie said to her now empty room.

Whatever funk Alastor was in had resolved itself by the following morning, as he greeted Charlie at her bedroom door with his signature aloofness and a peck on the cheek, like the incident last night hadn’t even happened. She supposed that was better than his well-worn strategy of just tucking tail and hiding in his radio tower until his pride recovered. But it still frustrated her, these extremes he flung himself between. Smothering her with affection one minute and then revolting at her touch the next. And he was usually the one to initiate things in the first place! So why did he always pump the breaks so abruptly whenever things started to get hot and heavy?

There was too much going on at the hotel right now for her to worry about their intimacy issues. It was easier to just play along with his games of deflection and delusion, and pretend like everything was normal between them.

But she was beginning to wonder if this was all just a game to him. If he was dangling the carrot, giving her just a nibble, only to snatch it away and relish in her frustration and confusion. Or maybe he enjoyed the torture of a relentless pursuit, treating her like she was prey that was just always out of reach, something he could endlessly chase. The radio demon loved his mind games, but she had sincerely thought he was done playing them with her. Was she being baited? Was she the bait herself?

Charlie shuffled through the day in a distracted haze and was grateful that she was off the hook for that afternoon’s group activity. Angel Dust was hosting another movie night and was excited to show a different film from his personally curated collection called Wet Dreams May Cum. The plot sounded nearly identical to the last movie they watched, both about a man fornicating his way through hell to save the woman he loves. Apparently, it was a very popular porn trope in hell.

She was currently in the hotel lounge helping Angel set things up. As she waved her finger in the air like a lethargic band conductor, the projector screen began positioning itself on the wall. It hung a little lopsided and she gave a small twitch of her finger to adjust it, but then the entire thing came crashing down on top of her. With a huff of frustration, she began wrestling it back on the wall.

“You good, toots?” Angel had been setting up the chairs and rushed over to help her before she punched a hole right through the screen. “You’ve been out of sorts all day today.”

“I’m sorry. Just have a lot on my mind.”

Angel nodded in understanding. “You and that fancy pants boyfriend of yours hit a rough patch, huh?”

She felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. “How can you tell?”

“I told ya I’m an expert on these things. I’m like a truffle pig for horniness. And you two are more pent up than a convent of nuns next to a dildo factory.” Angel sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. “So what’s going on?”

Charlie sat down, hands fidgeting in her lap. “Well, we haven’t been intimate yet,” she began.

The spider demon chuckled knowingly to himself. “Yeah, that much is obvious.”

“Which is totally fine! It’s not something I wanted to rush into. And Alastor is pretty old-fashioned, so I figured he didn’t want to either.” She sighed. “But he won’t let me touch him at all. Whenever we start getting hot and heavy, he seems really eager at first. Then as soon as I try to take things further, he changes his mind and makes some excuse before disappearing.”

Angel let out a low whistle. “Damn, I didn’t realize it was that bad. Thought he was at least getting the occasional tug-off in a broom closet. So that prude prick is coping a feel and then leaving you totally clammed up?”

Charlie blushed. That wasn’t entirely true. But she wasn’t about to admit to Angel that she had gotten off from grinding on the radio demon’s thigh.

“I-I don’t think he means to,” she stammered.

“Maybe he can’t get it up,” Angel suggested. “Or he’s got a little button dick.”

What she felt pressed against her backside last night definitely debunked those two theories. Warmth pooled in her belly at the memory. “N-No, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Ya know, some guys are into weird shit like getting hard but not getting off. Maybe that smiley fuck is going for the world record in edging.”

The princess propped her elbow on her knees and put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do, Angel. I know what I want. And if Alastor doesn’t want the same thing, that’s okay. But I’m starting to wonder if he’s just stringing me along for his own amusement.”

Angel placed a hand on her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I can tell he cares about you, Charlie. All the shit he puts up with at this hotel for your sake? If he’s not doing it to get laid, then he’s definitely doing it for love.”

“Love,” Charlie repeated to herself. The word fizzled pleasantly on her tongue.

“You’re always preaching to us about how important good communication is. Share your feelings, be honest, consent is sexy, yadda yadda. You just need to talk to Alastor about what he wants.”

“I know. I’ve tried, but he refuses to talk about it.”

“You gotta make him talk, then. I don’t mean tie him to a chair and beat him with a sock full of nickels until he starts yapping.” Angel tapped his chin. “Though he might be into that shit. Maybe you should try that.” He shook his head. “Anyways, what I mean is sometimes there are things we don’t wanna talk about. And what we need isn’t someone who spares our feelings, but someone who’s gonna force us to confront these things. Because without that push, we never will.”

Charlie nodded, feeling a surge of determination from Angel’s pep talk. “You’re right. I need to talk to him, even if I have to drag him kicking and screaming into the conversation.”

Angel smirked. “If he blows out the electricity again, I’ll know who to blame.”

She knocked her shoulder playfully against his. “That was pretty good advice, you know. You’re as good a therapist as you are a movie critic.”

Angel leaned back against the sofa, smiling smugly as he put all four of his hands behind his head. “I should start charging you two an hourly rate.”

The fire snapped and crackled in the hotel study’s fireplace as Alastor plucked another book from its extensive library. The collection was still mostly comprised of those silly self-help books that Charlie so cherished, but he managed to convince her to stock some history texts, fine literature, and other readings that were a bit more mentally stimulating. He weighed the thick manuscript in his hand, its worn leather cover embossed with the title The Founding Fearfathers: Hell’s First Overlords. Returning to the loveseat, he sat down, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and began reading.

He had barely gotten past the table of contents when someone knocked on the open door of the study. Glancing up, he saw the princess standing there and his smile brightened.

“What a pleasant surprise!” he greeted. “I assumed you’d be downstairs assaulting your eyes with that cinematic filth like everyone else.

“Angel’s got it covered, so I thought I’d skip out on this one.” She nodded towards the loveseat. “Can I join you?”

“Of course.” He gestured to the spot next to him. “You know I would never turn down your company, my dearest.”

After sitting down, Charlie curled her legs underneath her and leaned against him as she peeked at the contents of his book. “Catching up on your overlord history?” she asked.

“Something like that.” He fanned through the pages to the back index. “You know I can’t find mention of Bull in any of these archives. Peculiar, don’t you think?”

She shrugged. “He’s a pretty private guy. Maybe he didn’t want to be written about.”

Alastor hummed tersely, unconvinced. He patted her on the knee and stood up, returning to the bookcase behind them to peruse the other hellish history books.

The princess twisted in her seat to face him. “Al, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it, darling?” he asked, half paying attention as he pulled another worn hardcover out of the shelf.

“It’s about us.”

“Oh?” He snapped the book shut in his hand and turned back towards her. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“We’ve been together for a while now…”

“Indeed we have.”

“And things have been going great…”

“I’m inclined to agree.”

She drummed her fingers nervously on the wooden crest of the loveseat. “I appreciate that we’ve been taking things slow, but lately I feel like you’ve been giving me mixed signals about what you want out of our relationship.”

Alastor cocked his head at her and laughed. “I didn’t realize our relationship came with a consolation prize. Do I win one of those novelty finger traps when we reach our six-month anniversary? Or can I save up my tickets for something bigger?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Charlie blew a buzzy breath, face scrunching as she thought for a moment. “Relationships evolve as couples grow closer, both emotionally and physically. I want that for us but it feels like we’re not on the same page about it.”

He waved his hand to dismiss her concerns. “My dearest, you should save all the psychoanalysis for our hotel guests, not our relationship. Of course we’re on the same page about things! We enjoy each other’s companies, do we not?”

She let out a heavy sigh of frustration. “Then why don’t you want to have sex with me?!”

A record scratched loudly in Alastor’s head as the book in his hand fell to the floor. “W-What?!”

She shrank back, face reddening with embarrassment from her sudden outburst. “Every time we start to get a little handsy and I think you want to take things further, you suddenly freak out and run away like you’re afraid of your own shadow.” She shook her head. “And I’m left there wondering if I did something wrong, or you just changed your mind, or maybe it was something you never even wanted in the first place.”

He stared dumbfoundedly at her like one of his animal brethren caught in headlights. Then a jolt of panic shattered his frozen state and he broke out into a fit of manic laughter. “W-Well! This was a productive chat! I do appreciate you bringing these matters to my attention, darling. Though it’s nothing you should worry your pretty little blonde head about. Just a scheduling conflict, is all! You’re a busy gal, I’m a busy guy, and duty always seems to call at the most inconvenient times, doesn’t it?” He checked the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Just like right now! If you’ll excuse me, I-”

“Alastor!” Charlie flung herself over the back of the loveseat, grasping his arm before he could disappear. “Please don’t run away again. We need to talk about this.”

“I’m not running away, I-” His excuse got caught in his throat as he met Charlie’s eyes. The once vivid scarlet in them had dulled with hurt and confusion, a deep well of pain that he had created.

“If you don’t want me like that, it’s okay. It really is.” Her voice warbled with desperation. “I just want to know what to expect. I want to know you’re not playing another one of your games with me.”

Alastor looked down at the fingers wrapped around his wrist, so soft and gentle, despite their steadfast grip. Even now, she treated him with such tenderness and understanding. Guilt coiled tightly around his heart like a thorny vine, the bloodied puncture of each sharp barb a well-deserved punishment.

Perhaps Husk was right. It would only be a matter of time before his lies and deceit caught up with him. It was inevitable, that he would ruin the one good thing he’s ever had in this eternal existence of torment, hurt the only person in this entire hell-forsaken place that he’s ever cared about.

“Do you really think I’ve been playing games with you?” he asked quietly, the radio filter gone from his voice. “That I don’t want you?”

Her mouth tugged down in an apologetic grimace. “I don’t know what you want, Alastor. After all this time, I still don’t have you figured out.”

“It was never my intention to make you feel unwanted. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Then what’s going on?” She squeezed his arm. “Please, Al. I want to understand.”

Alastor walked slowly around the loveseat and sat down next to her, silent and pensive as he pieced together his own thoughts. It was difficult, considering this was something he was still trying to make sense of himself. He stared down at his hands, turning them over several times as he watched the unnatural purple veins pulsed under his lifeless skin. The crimson of his claws stretched down his long fingers, like every drop of blood they had spilled was permanently soaked into them. Releasing a heavy sigh, he began to speak.

“When I was a boy, the only time I ever saw my father touch my mother was when he was slapping her around. I told myself that if I was ever sweet on someone, I’d never put my hands on them like that.” He paused, smile pursing as he considered his words. “Even when I started my, ah, hobbies, that was still something I refused to waver on.”

“And did you waver?” she asked.

“I suppose by technicality, no. But the truth is, I’ve never been sweet on anyone before.” His eyes rose to meet hers. “Not until you, Charlie.”

“Oh.”

The confession hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating as Alastor felt the weight of it bear down on him.

“Oh.” Her tone softened with understanding. “You’ve never been with anyone before?”

He gave a curt shake of his head. “No. Not by any definition.”

“Not even when you were alive?”

“I was a real heartbreaker back in my day, but mostly due to my complete lack of interest in such affairs. Dating for me was a task to mark off on a checklist. I did it to keep up appearances and for the occasional alibi. I’d take some gal for a few spins around the dance hall, make sure everyone saw us, then forget her name by the time I returned home. Romance, companionship, physical intimacy, these things never mattered to me. I saw those who pursued it as foolhardy and weak.” He chuckled lightly. “What a fool I was, thinking such things beneath me. When now the desire to have them with you so ardently consumes me.”

“Oh, Alastor. Is that what this has been about?” She took his hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly. “This is all new for you and that’s a little scary. I get it.”

He pulled away from her and shook his head. “It’s not my inexperience that makes me hesitate, Charlie. My life was one of confidence and absolution. Carefully crafted, always in control. My afterlife, even more so. But now it’s like I’m at the mercy of my own feelings. I can feel that control slipping. And I…”

“You’re afraid you might hurt me?” she finished for him.

He nodded, looking down at his hands as he wrung them in his lap. “My appetite for things can be voracious. I worry now that I’ve gotten a taste of you, I won’t be able to stop myself until I’ve devoured you whole.”

Charlie reached out to gently cup his cheek, turning his head to face her again. “You don’t have to worry about hurting me.”

Instinctively, he leaned into her touch, eyes faltering for a moment. “How can you say that?”

“Because I trust you, Alastor.”

The radio demon could feel the corners of his mouth tugging down, loosening their magical stitches as his smiling façade threatened to break entirely. Though his eyes alone betrayed his emotions, as something raw and vulnerable flickered in them. He blinked a few times, grin tightening as he regained his composure. “An admirable but foolish endeavor,” he told her.

“Maybe. But you say that about most of the stuff I do.” Still holding his face, she caressed her thumb against his cheek. “Listen, Al. We can take this at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. Just talk to me about it, okay?”

He hum thoughtfully. “I suppose I could be a tad less cryptic about things.”

She patted his cheek affectionately. “You know, you’ve never talked about your dad before. He sounds like a real piece of work.”

“Fortunately, you’ll never have the displeasure of meeting him,” he scoffed. “I made sure to wrap him up in a nice pretty bow for the exorcists during my first extermination down here.”

The princess snorted in amusement. “And you say I’m the one with daddy issues.”

His grin quirked to one side, curling in a challenging smirk as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her into his lap. She squeaked in surprise, arms bracing against his shoulders.

“I don’t want to spend what precious time we have together talking about our fathers,” Alastor said as he tucked his fingers under her chin. “When there are so many far more enjoyable things we could be doing.”

He pressed his lips against hers, eagerly, confidently, needing to erase any doubt from her mind that this wasn’t something he so desperately craved. He traced her jawline with his thumb before slipping his fingers behind her neck and cradling her head. Deepening their kiss, his tongue poked at the seam of her lips, bullying its way inside her mouth. She made a noise, something between delight and surprise, at the sudden intrusion. As she returned the enthusiasm, he practically swallowed down her tongue when he felt it intertwine with his own.

The frustration, the fear, the agonizing lust, all these conflicting emotions that had been endlessly tormenting him the last few months, it’s like the damper had finally been wrenched open and everything burned away in a fiery blaze of desire.

Alastor groaned deeply into Charlie’s mouth as the heat between them intensified. Static buzzed and pop frenziedly inside his chest and he felt her hand slide down from his shoulder to press against his heart. She caressed down his chest, stopping at the first button of his dress coat. His hips surged forward, legs spreading to welcome her touch between them.

She pulled back, eyes widening when she saw the evidence of how viscerally he wanted her, tearing at the seam of his trousers. Her eyes rose to meet his. “Are you sure, Al?”

He nodded frantically and lunged forward to kiss her again, hips rising in another wordless invitation.

“I need to hear you say it,” she mumbled urgently in the space between their lips.

“Touch me,” he groaned, voice ragged with arousal. “Please, darling.”

She rewarded his candor with a passionate kiss, stealing what little air was left in his lungs. He felt her hand trail down his torso, over his belt, before her fingers spread along his bulge and cupped him through his pants. She gave him a few experimental squeezes, gentle at first, mapping the length of him. Then her grip tightened as she began slowly pumping his shaft, dragging the fabric of his trousers against it.

“A-Ah…!” His mouth went slack against hers as a newfound pleasure coursed through him. Sharp, electrifying, so different than the times he’s taken himself in his own hand. His veins felt like live wires under his skin, causing him to jolt and squirm as his body both begged for more and sought reprieve from it being too much.

Of their own accord, his hips began dragging forward into her touch. He could feel his hard cock sliding against the inside of his trousers, saturated in his own excitement and separated by far too many layers of fabric from her busy hand. Despite that, he could already feel his release coiled tightly in his gut, threatening to snap at any moment.

“Charlie, that… that feels…”

She hummed in response, palm pushing against his scrotum as she continued to stroke and squeeze him through his pants. His mouth dragged clumsily along her chin and up her cheek in a futile attempt to kiss her, desperate to find some grounding in this moment. Giving up, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, hoping it would muffle the embarrassing sounds that kept bubbling up his throat.

He felt her fingers tug at his shirt to untuck it, then dip inside his trousers. She lightly grazed her fingernails against his bare skin, right under his navel, causing his entire body to erupt in goosebumps. They paused right before breaching the band of his underwear.

He nodded furiously against her shoulder. “Out, take it out!” he rasped.

Impatience got the better of him and his hands fumbled with his fly, shaky fingers undoing the clasp. Before he could reach for his zipper, she grasped his wrist to stop him. He looked up pleadingly at her and saw the heat burning in her eyes.

“Let me,” Charlie whispered.

She pulled down his zipper, agonizingly slow, and let out a surprised “oh!” when his erection sprang out of his trousers like a horny jack-in-box, the loose fabric of his boxer shorts barely able to contain it. Alastor hissed sharply between his teeth, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he clenched every muscle in his body so he didn’t lose it right then and there. He opened his eyes and watched as she peeled his underwear down, like she was carefully unwrapping a present.

“Fuck, Alastor,” she breathed.

They both stared at it for a moment, his cock jutting straight up between his legs. Veins pulsing, tip flushed a deep violet color, and the length of it slick and shiny with precum. He was so unbelievably hard it hurt, each throb of arousal making the corners of his vision spotty. As Charlie inspected him, he held his breath, gnawing on the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet as her hand ghosted over his quivering member. He watched as her eyes tracked the long string of precum that oozed from his tip and hung for a moment before breaking off and soaking into his trousers. She bit her lip, gaze lingering on his cock, then slowly her eyes raked up to meet his.

“Geeze, you’ve really been pent up, huh?” she murmured.

He gave a strained laugh. “Oh darling, you have no idea. But now I would very much like for you to take some accountability for it.”

With a wicked grin, her fingers wrapped around his cock. And it was like every nerve ending in Alastor’s body was set ablaze. He threw his head back with a shameless moan, static roaring inside his chest, a formless manifestation of his desire that was about to pop him open like a stuffed toy with loose stitches. Slowly, she began to slide her fist up and down his shaft, her hands so deliciously soft and silky against his hot, clammy skin.

“M-Mercy me!” he groaned, struggling to lift his head to watch her. She chuckled at his commentary, grip tightening and pace quickening as she tried to goad some more colorful vocabulary out of him. Her eyes had darkened, something confident and dangerous in them, that gave him the same thrilling rush as that time she had her trident pinned to his throat. The power she held over him now felt much more intimidating.

She met him in another passionate kiss, pumping his hard shaft with equal fervor. He could feel himself leaking all over her hand, and when she rubbed her thumb against the slit of his cockhead, he gnashed his teeth against her bottom lip. She didn’t relent, stroking him fully from tip to base, inching him closer to the edge that he was already teetering on.

Charlie pressed a kiss to the corner of his trembling smile, then his cheek, then his jaw. Her mouth began working down his neck, sucking bruises along every bit of exposed skin. With her free hand, she wriggled a finger into the knot of his bowtie and tugged it loose. She flicked open the first button of his dress shirt, kissed the newly revealed skin there, then unfasten another, and another, until she could pepper kisses down to his collarbone. Alastor moaned freely, any sense of dignity long abandoned as he let himself get lost in her ministrations.

If this is what it felt like, for her to take just a piece of him, then he wanted to give all of himself to her. Let her savor him, tiny morsel by tiny morsel, then pick her teeth clean with his bones. And when he pulled himself back together, let her do it all again.

“Charlie…” he keened, voice wrecked with pleasure.

Alastor felt like he was about to shatter into a million pieces. His antlers were a heavy, burdenous crown atop his head and unbearably itchy. With a pathetic whine, he began rubbing them against the back of the loveseat, feeling them tear into the thick upholstery and carve deep divots into the wooden crest. The princess hummed curiously and he felt her fingers brush against the base of an antler.

“Al, can I?”

“Y-Yes!” he pleaded.

Her hand traced delicately along the ever-growing prongs of his antlers, up and down along each path and dead end. She wrapped her fingers around one of the girthier ones and began to stroke it, mimicking her hand that was wrapped around his cock.

“Does this feel good?”

Words were now completely lost to the radio demon, and he could only nod his head feverishly in response. It was all too much, and still not enough. His head nuzzled needily against the relieving touch of her hand, falling heavy against her shoulder as he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright anymore. His hips writhed as she worked his throbbing member. Heat bubbled like hot magma in his gut and he knew he couldn’t hold back his release any longer.

“C-Charlie,” he choked. “I need… I need…”

“I know.” She planted a kiss to his brow. “It’s okay.”

Fireworks exploded in his eyes until his vision went white. A ragged moan tore from his throat and he bit down hard on Charlie’s shoulder, thrashing wildly as he thrusted his exploding cock into her fist. She continued to stroke him as he rode high and crashed down through his pleasure. Neither of them noticed when the table lamp next to them grew blindingly bright and then went out with a loud pop. Nor did they hear the quick succession of pops outside the study, which was most certainly the hallway lights going out as well.

When it was over, Alastor was slumped in the princess’s arms like a marionette with its strings cut. Coming back to his senses, he climbed off her and sheepishly tucked himself back in his trousers. He felt the need to provide some kind of gentlemanly assistance and offered her his hand to help her stand, though his own legs were wobbly, useless things.

“Charlie… your shoulder...” His eyes were drawn to the wet patch that had seeped through her jacket. He gently grasped the lapel and pulled the fabric away, revealing a blooming red stain of blood. There were a set of puncture marks in her white dress shirt that aligned perfectly with his teeth. “Forgive me,” he said, gingerly brushing his thumb over the wound.

“Oh…” Her cheeks tinged with color as she inspected the mark he had left. “It’s fine! My jacket’s red anyway, you can hardly notice.”

His eyes continued downwards and shot wide when he saw the milky white of his ejaculate splattered across the front of her pants. “Ah! Allow me to tidy that up.” With a hasty snap of his fingers, the bodily fluids vanished from her clothing. But after a few seconds, the wound on her shoulder bled through her shirt again.

“Shit,” Alastor cursed. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. “May I?”

She nodded, undoing the first few buttons of her shirt so she could slip it down her shoulder. He placed the handkerchief against the wound and held it there firmly to stop the bleeding.

“Apologies for my teethy enthusiasm,” he mumbled.

“I like your teethy enthusiasm,” she returned, running her fingers affectionately through his hair to untangle the tousled, sweaty mess it had become.

“Hey, who turned off all the lights?”

Voices echoed from down the hallway. The pair looked at the door, then back at each other. So caught up in their moment of passion, neither had thought to close it. Both rushing to compose themselves, Charlie slung her jacket back on and smoothed down her hair while Alastor buttoned up his shirt and knotted his bowtie. His monocle had fallen off at some point and he frantically looked around for it. She found it wedged between two cushions and cleaned the lenses with her jacket sleeve before offering it to him. With a grateful grin, he leaned over and allowed her to put it back into place.

“Uhh… Al?” Charlie pointed to the loveseat. “What are we gonna do about that?”

Not only did the piece of furniture look like it had been hacked apart by some lecherous lumberjack, it had also been victim to some very unsavory projectiles. Alastor looked around panickily, and not knowing what else to do, snapped his fingers. The loveseat burst into flames just as a few hotel guests walked past the door.

“Yeesh! What the hell happened in here?” Angel Dust exclaimed.

A smoldering flake of ash landed on the radio demon’s shoulder and he brushed it away. “Bed bugs,” he said.

Chapter Text

“Is it too much?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Alastor replied. “I think it could use a few more stickers.”

She looked down at the now empty 1000-count pack of stickers in her hand. Every inch of the poster board in front of her was covered in shiny gold stars, gleaming white clouds, and glittering rainbows. In the center was the title An After-lifeline to Heaven, surrounded by drawings of horned and haloed stick figures holding hands.

A burning sensation tickled her nostrils and she sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

He looked between the lobby window and the poster, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun rays that reflected off the sparkly decals. “Hmm. You might want to reposition that thing before you set the hotel on fire.”

“Oh geeze. Maybe I did overdo it on the stickers.”

Her enthusiasm couldn’t be helped. This was the first group activity they were doing in partnership with heaven, and not only did she hope this would be a huge motivational boost for their hotel guests, she wanted to show their holy counterparts how successful a collaboration between them could be.

The radio demon, whose attitude towards her daily lessons ranged from mild amusement to begrudging participation to dismally disguised disdain, was particularly unenthused about this one. But Charlie knew him well enough to know that his aloofness usually masked an unwillingness to confront his own feelings. And if recent events were any testament, she knew some gentle nudging would open him up a bit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to participate?” she asked, probably for the hundredth time since she told him the idea. “There isn’t anyone in heaven you want to talk to? A family member? Some old friend from your radio days? A pet dog you had?”

“I hate dogs,” he replied flatly as he picked up the poster board to move it out of the sunlight.

“C’mon, Al. Vaggie and Emily said it took a lot of convincing for the angelic council to allow sinners to connect with someone in heaven, even just this one time. We might never get another opportunity like this. I know there’s someone up there you want to talk to.”

“I assure you there isn’t.”

“Not even your mom?”

Alastor stiffened, nearly dropping the poster board when his claws punctured through it on both sides. Then he turned to her with an expressionless smile. “Not all of us seek to make amends, my dearest. Besides, I’m not really the sentimental type.”

Charlie pursed her lips at him, wordlessly saying we’ll talk about this later, and turned her attention to the hotel guests that were trickling into the lobby.

“I know for a lot of you, earning your spot in heaven is about more than just redeeming yourself,” she began once everyone had settled in. “You want to make peace with your past. With the life you lived, the things you’ve done, the people you’ve hurt. We might not be able to rewrite our own history or undo our past actions, but there’s always a chance to reconcile with those we care about. Now that’s easier said than done if the person in question is in a holier dimension than this one, but that’s nothing a little heavenly schmoozing and a complete overhaul of our communication infrastructure couldn’t fix!” She waved her hands at the poster with a jazzy flourish, sending little sparks of magic cascading around it. “Which is why I’m so happy to announce our first ever hell-to-heaven, cross-dimensional, officially sanctioned, collaborative rehabilitation effort!”

Everyone stared vacantly at her as they tried to make sense of what she just said.

“Uhh, does that mean we’re doing Peppy’s letter writing thing?” Husk asked.

“Even better!” she exclaimed. “You’ll actually be able to speak with someone in heaven! The angelic council is letting us use the new interdimensional communication lines for a visiting hour, of sorts.”

“We can talk to them?” Peppy the adulterer asked, his usually sullen expression brightening. “Face to face?”

“Well, as face to face as you can get through a magical portal,” she replied. “There are some restrictions, though. The other person has to accept your invitation to meet. And you’re expected to keep the conversation topics appropriate. You’re not only representing the hotel, but all of hell.” She threw a knowing glance at Angel Dust.

He clutched his chest in mock offense. “You think I’d kiss my sister with the same mouth I use down here?”

“This is just a one-time thing, so whatever you say, make sure it comes from the heart,” she continued. “We’ll be coordinating with heaven at the end of the week, so you have plenty of time to figure out what you want to say!”

The excitement that buzzed among the hotel residents was enough to make Charlie’s heart burst from happiness. As she made her rounds with the sign-up sheet, everyone was eager to jot down the name of an estranged family member or long-lost love or whoever else in heaven they were hopping to reconnect with. Angel was his sister. Husk, an old war buddy. Lauren and Leonard have a daughter they want to see again. Even Niffty was hoping to speak to an ex-boyfriend who she had, in her own words, maybe stabbed a few too many times.

“Thank you for this, Charlie,” Peppy said as he scribbled down the names of his kids, hoping one of them would want to talk to him.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “It was your letters to heaven idea that inspired this.”

She spied Alastor in the corner, quietly observing as he so liked to do. When their eyes met, she gave him a smirk, nodding to the group in the hopes he’d join them. He returned a bored smile and stubbornly settled into his dark little nook. His behavior was expected, but what wasn’t was Bull’s uncharacteristic lack of interest as well. The burly bovine had attempted to quietly excuse himself but Charlie caught his eye before he could leave.

“Not much reconciliation I can do, I’m afraid,” he said. “Everyone I cared about ended up down here and they’re all long gone now.”

She was about to offer some condolences when Ted the lizard pervert interjected. “Are these extra-mental-or-whatever-they’re-called phone lines safe? ‘Cause I heard they release freaky shit into the air that makes your teeth fall out and your dick shrivel up!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Where did you hear that?”

“On the internet,” he replied, showing her his phone.

Charlie looked at the article on Ted’s phone. Just a quick glance was enough to see the conspiratorial nonsense it was spewing about the new interdimensional communication lines. The celestial radio waves are causing mass erectile dysfunction! There’s a hidden society of angelic troglodytes living in the deepest pits of hell that heaven is making contact with! These were just a few of the crackpot theories the article discussed.

“You don’t really believe this clickbaity crap, do you, Ted?” she questioned.

“Ted, buddy, I told you to stop doomscrolling on Vee City Tribune,” Angel Dust chimed in. “It’s all tabloid bullshit. And you keep getting viruses on your phone from their website!”

Charlie swiped up to see the source of the article was Vee City Tribune, Your Source for Totally Factual and Reliable Journalism, A Subsidiary of VoxTek Enterprises. The phone began glitching as Alastor appeared at her side, a static rumble building in his chest as he leaned over her shoulder to read the article.

“So that oversized car battery thinks he can take some backhanded shots at us, hmm?” he remarked, a sharp bite to his tone. “Well, two can play at that game. Though I prefer my hits to land more directly.” His fists clenched at his sides, but before he could make a beeline for the door, she placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“That overlord meet is in a few days, right? We can talk to Vox about this then. Together. No one needs to get stabbed in the face or chest or any other body parts this time.”

Anger twisted the corners of the radio demon’s smile as his fists reluctantly unfurled. “If that’s what you wish, my dearest.”

“Err… cookie, anyone?”

Alastor surveyed the gathering of overlords, teeth clenched tight behind a tense grin. Daggered glares cut through the thickening tension in the room, though their attention was not on him. All eyes were on his companion, who had insisted they arrive early and thought a box of homemade cookies would be enough to sway these ruthless soul dealers in her favor. They’ve been sitting in awkward silence for the last twenty minutes, her peace offering untouched, as he waited to slice the throat open of the first person to grab their metaphoric pitchfork.

“They’re snickerdoodles!” Charlie added, shaking the box enticingly.

Glancing up at the security cameras tucked into every corner of the meeting room, he spotted the blue and red logo of VoxTek plastered on each one. The television demon hadn’t even bothered to show up, though Alastor knew he had plenty of eyes and ears in the room without needing to be physically present. As he stared at his reflection in the one of the camera lenses, he considered shorting out the electricity in Carmilla Carmine’s entire compound so they could end the meeting early.

The door buzzed open and he spun in his chair to face the newest attendee, ready with an arsenal of snarky remarks if Vox had actually decided to show up. But who he saw instead made him wish it was the television demon who had walked through the door.

“What are YOU doing here?!” Alastor spat angrily.

Bull tipped an imaginary hat to the princess as he entered the room. “I was invited,” he replied, gesturing towards Carmilla at the head of the table. “Had the fortune of bumping into Ms. Carmine here while reacquainting myself with the city. After talking for a bit, she was so kind as to extend me an invitation.”

Alastor’s claws cracked as he resisted clenching them into fists. “I thought you were retired from the overlord business.”

“I am. But doesn’t hurt to be on the up-and-up, right?”

“There’s much we can learn from the past,” Carmilla said, motioning to Zestial sitting next to her, then extending her hand towards Bull. “These are unprecedented times. We need all the guidance we can get.”

“This is great!” Charlie chimed in. “More representation for the hotel!”

Alastor grumbled in annoyance, steely eyes tracking Bull as he sat down next to the princess and happily took one of the cookies she offered him.

Rosie, who was sitting on the other side of Alastor, leaned in close. “Is that the cow fella you told me about?” she whispered. As she watched Bull for a moment, her eyebrows rose with intrigue. “That’s a grade A hunk of demon.”

“Don’t you start too,” he snapped back.

The meeting kicked off with its usual boring drivel. Turf war discussions, boundary negotiations, who had what to offer to whoever else. The same overlord politics that Alastor had only been orbitally involved with for the past century. He never had any interest in the complicated web these powerful sinners spun together to entrap the denizens of the Pride ring. Solitude and chaos were more his style.

Next to him, Charlie was diligently taking notes in the sparkly pink notebook she had brought with her. Her head swiveled back and forth as she listened to whoever was talking, nodding along as if she was part of the conversation herself. As her pen scribbled across the paper, her tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth.

Alastor hid his softened smile behind his hand as he watched her. These meetings were much more tolerable when he had his beloved princess with him. He might still be a chaotic creature, but he supposed solitude wasn’t really his style anymore.

“That leads us to our last topic of discussion,” Carmilla stated as she stared down the table at Charlie. “Your hotel, Princess Morningstar. And how it’s going to run half the overlords in Pentagram City out of business.”

“Wait, what?” Charlie looked bewilderedly around the room.

They were interrupted by the sound of someone loudly talking out in the hallway. The control panel on the door began glitching and blue sparks fizzled around the handle. With a bright crack like lightning, Vox suddenly appeared in the room. He had a Voxbucks coffee cup in one hand and his cell phone in the other. Without acknowledging anyone, he sat down in an empty chair and propped his feet up on the table.

“For fuck’s sake, Vel! Pop a few pills and a vibrating egg inside him and that’ll keep him happy until I get back.” He took a sip from his drink. “I don’t know, a few hours? You know Carmine always drags this shit out longer than it needs to be.”

Carmilla loudly cleared her throat and Vox shot her an annoyed look like she was the one interrupting him. Crossing her arms, she scowled at him. “You’re late.”

He tapped his phone to end the call, hanging up on Velvette. “That’s your fault for starting without me.”

Vox looked around the gathering of overlords, a bored expression on his screen until his gaze settled on Charlie. Interest flickered in his eyes as he gave her a leering smile. “Charlie! We’re still on a first name basis, aren’t we? What a pleasure to see you again. You’re looking lovely, as always.” His head swiveled towards the radio demon. “Can’t say the same about your mangey friend here. Did you run headfirst into a parked car again, buddy? You just can’t resist a good pair of headlights, huh?” A knowing glint gleamed in Vox’s eyes as they shifted back to the princess.

“Vox,” Alastor greeted with a sickly-sweet venom in his voice. “Is that a new screen? Top of the line, it looks like. Why don’t you tell everyone what happened to the old one?”

The television demon’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you shove that microphone up your ass so you can get right to the source of all that shit you love to broadcast.”

Alastor tutted his tongue. “So testy. What’s wrong? Did your toaster rebuke your sexual advances again?”

“That’s rich, coming from the leg-humping guard dog. Charlie really needs to get you neutered.”

Alastor slammed his fists down on the table. “You soul-sucking sellout!”

Vox jumped out of his chair. “You washed-up wannabe!”

“Enough!” Carmilla interjected. “If you two want to continue your pissing contest, you can take it outside. The rest of us have business to discuss.”

Both men sat back down, neither wanting to be the first to break eye contact as they glared threateningly at each other. The radio demon finally rescinded when he felt Charlie nudge him. She shook her head with a disapproving frown.

Carmilla refocused her attention on the princess. “As I was saying before, we have major concerns about the impact your hotel is having on our operations.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked. “At the overlord summit, you all seemed happy with the work we were doing.” She looked around at the room of disgruntled faces. “Well, maybe happy isn’t the right word. Complacent?”

“That was before we realized the full consequences of abolishing the exterminations,” Carmilla explained.

“You can’t possibly be mad about that. Millions of people were slaughtered every year!”

“And for centuries, us overlords would piece our city back together in the aftermath of that carnage.”

“By taking advantage of people when they were at their most vulnerable,” Charlie snapped back.

Carmilla’s mouth pulled into a tight line. “I admit that arms dealings isn’t always a virtuous business, but I do what I do so people can protect themselves. More importantly, so I can protect my family. And without the exterminations, I find myself with little supply and even lesser demand.”

“What better way to protect your family than to do away with the exterminations entirely! Is the life of your business more important than the life of your daughters?” The princess gestured to the two women sitting next to Carmilla.

She stiffened. “No. Of course it’s not.”

Charlie crossed her arms. “I’m not going to apologize for trying to improve the lives of the people here in hell. If you all think that what I’m doing is bad for business… well, then you should find another way to do business!”

Discord rumbled among the overlords. Alastor scanned the room, giving a few snarled looks to the most disgruntled looking occupants. He was ready to pounce to Charlie’s defense.

“If I may,” Bull cut in first. “As Ms. Carmine said earlier, these are unprecedented times. And before we can herald in this new age, the weak must be weeded out. It’s an extinction event. Adapt or die. This has always been the natural order of things.”

A brutal, yet accurate observation that seemed strange coming from the Bull. Alastor supposed he wasn’t as mild-mannered back in his heyday as an overlord, but there was an icy contempt in the bull demon’s eyes as he spoke.

“Wise words,” Vox remarked.

“No one needs to die,” Charlie clarified with a frantic wave of her hands. “But if you all still want to be pillars of this city, then maybe you should try leading with something other than fear.”

Vox stood up and gestured towards the princess. “Personally, I think Charlie’s created a great opportunity for us here.”

Static fizzled in the radio demon’s chest as he tightly clenched his fists, furious that both Bull and Vox had come to Charlie’s defense before he could. Under the table, he felt her squeeze his knee in reassurance. He blew an annoyed puff out his nostrils.

“You’ve been getting pretty buddy-buddy with heaven, haven’t you?” Vox continued. “Those new interdimensional communication lines are quite the technical marvel. Impressed even me.”

Charlie wasn’t falling for his schmoozing. She crossed her arms indignantly. “You mean the ones that you’ve been spreading lies about? That’s really not cool, by the way.”

He laughed. “Lighten up, sweetheart. That was just some mindless internet banter.”

“Don’t call her that,” Alastor growled under his breath.

“Seems a waste if you built those fancy phone lines just for your hotel to use. There’s a whole new realm of possibilities that you’ve been given access to and you’re hoarding it for yourself.”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “What are you suggesting we use them for?”

Vox threw his arms out in a grand flourish. “An interdimensional trade business!”

“Err, what?”

“An exchange of goods and services, between hell and heaven. Let us overlords extend our influence beyond the Pride ring, beyond all of hell.” He motioned to Carmilla. “Ms. Carmine here could get a direct supplier for angelic steel.” He turned to Rosie. “And Ruthie-”

“It’s Rosie,” the Cannibal Town demon snipped back.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m sure there are some freaks in heaven who’d love to buy your little tchotchkes. And I’ll have Voxflix playing on every phone, tablet, and television up there in cloud city.”

Alastor scoffed. “No one in heaven will want to watch that smutty slop you call entertainment.”

“Sure, I’ll have to censor a few things for those winged prudes. And who knows! Maybe there’s even an opportunity for an old fuddy-duddy like you, Alastor. I bet a few people up there still listen to the radio.”

“Hmph. I’ll stick to my hellish audience, thank you very much.”

“Hang on, now!” Charlie jumped in. “This isn’t what the interdimensional communications lines were mean for. They were built so heaven can support our rehabilitation efforts. And so we can check in on the sinners who found redemption.”

“Sinners who you’ll continue to poach from us,” Vox pointed out. “Velvette is still pretty pissed about that Heather girl, you know. Can’t really enforce a soul contract when the person is in another dimension. Quite the annoying loophole.”

The princess looked shocked. “I… I never thought of it like that.”

“Buuut, let’s say Vel started a heaven-exclusive fashion line. Heather would be in the perfect position to help promote that. It’s the least she can do, don’t you think? After bailing on her obligations down here.”

There were nods and chatters of agreement from the group. Charlie shared a concerned look with Alastor. “No,” she tried to call out over the rising clamor. “That’s not how redemption should work.”

“What Vox is proposing is a reasonable compromise,” Carmilla stated, raising her hand to silence the room. “The logistics of which I’m sure would take some time to figure out.” She looked towards Charlie. “I understand your concerns, Princess Morningstar. I hope that you understand ours as well.”

Charlie let out a resigned sigh. “I guess it doesn’t hurt to ask heaven what they think of the idea,” she said halfheartedly.

The meeting adjourned shortly after that. After bidding farewell to Rosie, Alastor kept a watchful eye on the princess as she made her rounds to the other overlords, box of cookies in hand, hoping to make one last gesture of goodwill before they left.

“I take it you’re back in the princess’s good graces,” he heard a grating voice say behind him.

“I never left them,” the radio demon replied, turning around to face Vox. “Unlike you, who was never even in them.”

A smug smile flashed on his screen. “Give it time. I’m sure I’ll be seeing much more of her if heaven accepts my business proposal. And I have a feeling they will.”

Alastor lurched forward and shoved a finger in his face. “That is NOT happening. I’ll make sure of it.”

Vox swatted his hand away. “It’s not really up to you, bucky boy. Remember what happened the last time you tried to tell Charlie what to do?”

“And do you remember what happened the last time you tried to take advantage of her? Or when I punched that hole through your head, did it rip out most of your brain?”

Hatred burned in the television demon’s eyes. Something flickered across his screen and he leaned in close. “It’s that good, huh? Sticking your dick in royal pussy. She was a lesbo before you, wasn’t she? Must have been a nice, tight fit then.”

Alastor’s vision seared red and he grasped Vox by the collar, claws ripping into his shirt as they sharpened into sickles. “You shut your fucking mouth before I rip your head clear off your body this time.” The lights in the room gave a flicker as his voice warped demonically.

Vox’s eyes trembled in fear for only a moment, then he sneered. “You haven’t yet, have you? I can see the desperation in your eyes.”

Alastor’s grip tightened. “I said to shut your fucking mouth.”

Vox only laughed, then disappeared from his grasp in a crackling arc of electricity. The radio demon hissed and recoiled, shaking the burning pain from his hand. Vox reappeared at the door, then stuck up his middle finger before leaving.

Across the room, Alastor saw that Bull had been watching the exchange, the same malicious glint in his eyes as before. Upon realizing that Alastor had spotted him, his expression immediately warmed and he trotted over.

“Hoo-wee!” Bull exclaimed, slapping the radio demon on the back. “Are these meetings always so intense? Back in my day, we settled disputes by just bashing a rock against someone’s head.”

“How savage,” Alastor replied, completely deadpanned.

“Think I prefer that to all this chit-chat.” The bull demon gave him another hard slap. “Now where’s Miss Charlie with those snickerdoodles?”

Alastor watched as Bull approached the princess, cheerful and pleasant as he always was, or perhaps how he always pretended to be. He couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of uneasiness that overcame him, settling heavy on him like a cold shroud. Seeing that Zestial was still in his seat, he decided to approach him.

“Alastor,” the ancient spider demon greeted. “Thy presence at these gatherings is always a welcomed surprise.”

Alastor nodded to where Bull and the princess were conversing. “You’ve been around a while, old friend. This Bull fellow, have you heard of him?”

“I am afraid I have not. ’Tis a rare occurrence, to meet someone from a time long before mine own.”

“And Carmilla just trusted him when he said he was once an overlord?”

Zestial gave a sagely nod. “He bears the sigil of the fearfathers, a mark none have seen in near a millennia. ’Twas evidence enough of his claim.”

“The fearfathers sigil,” Alastor repeated as he thoughtfully tapped his chin. It was something he vaguely remembered from some of those hellish history books he had been reading.

“There are tales of an overlord whose power knew no limit. And when the exorcists descended upon our realm to exact their divine justice, he remained unscathed. Only to seek retributions of his own kind in the primordial lands beyond this city. Curious, is it not? For one to willingly relinquishment such tremendous power.”

Alastor nodded. “Curious indeed.”

The radio demon was lost to his contemplations as he and Charlie headed back to the hotel. He was half paying attention as she rambled on about the overlord meeting, giving her the occasional nod or sympathetic grunt as she voiced her complaints.

“I’m just glad you and Bull were there to back me up,” she commented offhandedly.

His ears twitched at the mention of the bull demon and he came to a stop. “Charlie, I don’t think it’s wise to trust Bull.”

She rolled her eyes as she continued walking. “Don’t start with this again, Al.”

“Listen to me, please.” He grasped her arm, pulling her to a halt. “I can’t shake this feeling that he’s not who he says he is.”

She was taken aback by his seriousness. After considering him for a moment, the pinched annoyance on her face softening to understanding. Then she nodded. “Okay. I trust your intuition, Alastor. You were right about Vox and I didn’t listen then. I’ll listen now. I promise to be wary of him, but will you promise not to do anything unless we know for sure he’s up to something?”

“Deal,” he agreed.

She shook a teasing finger at him. “Not a deal! A promise.”

“Fine,” he retorted. “I promise.”

As they continued on their journey home, they enjoyed the brisk night air and quiet of the vacant streets. Given they were alone, Alastor linked his arm with Charlie’s. She hummed happily and rested her head against his shoulder.

“I have to send that list for the group activity to Emily tomorrow morning,” she said, giving him a nudge. “So you knoooow, there’s still time for you to sign up.”

“Still not interested,” he replied flatly.

She puffed out her cheeks in frustration. “Aww Al, I get if you’re scared to talk to your mom-”

“I never said that,” he quickly countered.

“But what’s the worst that can happen?” she continued. “That she doesn’t want to talk to you? At least that’ll still give you some kind of closure with her. But if the little you’ve told me about her is true, I think she’ll want to see you as much as you want to see her.”

Alastor gave her a sideways glance. “You’re making quite a few assumptions there, my dearest.”

“So you don’t want to talk to her?”

“I never said that either.”

They continued walking, then after a few minutes, he gave a resigned grumble. “Alright, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Really?!”

“If only so you won’t nag me about it for the next few centuries.”

Charlie hummed cheerfully to herself as she moseyed down the hallway towards Alastor’s radio tower, not realizing until she reached the door that she had been singing along to the upbeat jazz music that was drifting out from inside. She gave a courtesy knock, and when he didn’t respond, cracked open the door to peek inside. He was seated at his radio console, though the on-air indicator was off. Instead, he was vigorously writing in a small leather notebook, mumbling to himself as he gestured conversationally with his free hand. Scattered on the floor beneath him were several crumbled-up sheets of paper that he must have ripped out of it. Picking one up, she smoothed it out and saw it was the beginning of a list, with a single scratched out entry that read Ask about the weather in the heaven.

“Skipping dinner to do work? I think I’m rubbing off on you,” she quipped as she leaned over his shoulder and pecked him on the cheek.

His ears perked up in surprise and he snapped his notebook shut. “Charlie! Apologies, my dearest. I didn’t realize how late it was. Time must have gotten away from me this evening.”

“What are you writing?” she asked, sitting down on the armrest of his chair. She showed him the wrinkled, torn paper in her hand. “Is this stuff you want to ask your mom?”

“Something like that,” he replied, snatching the paper out of her hand and incinerating it in a flare of green flames.

She reached for the notebook. “Can I see?”

“My, my.” He shook a scolding finger at her, grin curled teasingly as he held his leather-bound secrets out of her reach. “What a nosy little nanny goat you are.”

“I’m just curious what you want to talk to her about. You guys have over a century to catch up on!”

“There’s not much I feel inclined to share from all that time,” he replied with a flippant wave of his hand. “I won’t bore mama too much with the humdrum of my hellish existence. Figured I’ll tell her I’m still flapping my gums on the radio. Maybe ask for that cornbread recipes of hers that I’ve tried quite unsuccessfully to replicate over the years.”

Charlie studied the radio demon for a moment, his fingers drumming restlessly on top of his notebook, his scarlet eyes sharp and unsettled. “It’s okay if you’re nervous, Al,” she said. “I know you’ve done a lot of shady shit over the years, but it hasn’t been all bad, right? Just look at all the good you’ve done at the hotel! Maybe you can tell your mom about that.”

“I’m not nervous,” he shot back quickly, voice cracking out of its radio filter as he said it. He cleared his throat. “Alright, perhaps I’m a bit nervous. There was much I left unsaid during my time among the living. I’m sure my absence from heaven was answer enough for her as to what kind of secrets I kept.” He went silent for a moment, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his expression darkened. Then he shook away the troubling thoughts. “But perhaps you’re right, darling. I’m sure my philanthropic efforts here will be a good buffer. Oh, and she’ll be over the moon to meet you!”

The princess clutched a hand to her heart. “You want to introduce me to your mom?”

“Yes, of course!” he replied, so matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious thing he’s ever said. “You did say we might not get an opportunity like this again. I won’t miss a chance for my two favorite gals to meet. Though I’m sure I’ll get an earful about it taking me a hundred and some odd years to finally end my bachelor lifestyle.”

“You want to tell her we’re together? That I’m your girlfriend?”

“What else would I tell her? That we’re business partners?” He gave an affectionate chuckle. “Mama’s a smart lady. She’d see through that excuse in two seconds. But if you’re concerned that another person will know about our relationship, I assure you she can keep a secret. Everyone in the neighborhood had their skeletons stuffed in her closet. Metaphorically speaking, I mean. She knew about every bathtub full of gin and-”

Charlie couldn’t contain the warm swell of fondness she felt for the man. She surged forward and pressed her lips against his, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I’d love to meet your mom, Alastor.”

The radio demon’s eyes crinkled with warmth as his smile stretched to reach them. “I’m so very pleased to hear that.”

He met her in another kiss, hands taking her by the waist to slide her into his lap. She seated herself on his thighs, wriggling her ass a little more than she needed to as she got comfortable. A low, approving hum buzzed in his chest as he spread his legs and pulled her flush to his groin.

A mischievous smile crept on her lips when she felt something hard press against her backside. Opening up about his inexperience had made Alastor unabashed in his displays of affection. It left the princess blushing on quite a few occasions, the lithe fingers that would dance up her leg under the table at breakfast, the sneaked kisses he’d give her when he was sure no one was looking, the way he’d scoop her into his arms the moment they were finally alone. She’s been a bit emboldened herself, adding a slight sway to her hips when she walked with him, popping open a few buttons of her shirt when they were relaxing together, pretending to fix his hair just so she could see his ears twitch. The rush she felt, of pride, of desire, knowing how easy it was to get him worked up like this. That she was the first person, the only person, to ever make him feel this way.

It was a new experience for her too, for someone to want her so wholly. Every curve, every edge. Every part of her perfectly crafted from her divine lineage or crudely hacked together in the deepest bowels of hell. Alastor feared his appetite would be insatiable, but Charlie knew that just meant he wouldn’t let any bit of her go unsavored.

His hands slid under her suspenders and cupped her breasts, squeezing lazily as some more happy sounds reverberated in his chest. She gave a soft chuckle. They may be taking things slow, but he was certainly well-practiced in what they’ve done so far. He’d moonlight as her push-up bra if she allowed him to.

Hot, wet lips found her neck, sucking on a tender spot just behind her ear that drew an involuntary whimper from the princess. She clutched his knees for support as she squirmed in his lap. His erection was already bruising her backbone, hard and throbbing in the confines of his trousers. With a grunt, he shifted underneath her, trying to spread his legs as far as the armchair would allow, bucking against her as he sought to create more friction beneath them.

His mouth made its way back up her neck, stopping to graze lightly against her ear. “I must confess something, my dearest,” he murmured, his buzzy breath causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. “Lately, I feel that the scales have been tipped in our relationship.”

“W-What do you mean?” she stammered.

“You’ve been so patience with me, so gracious. And I’ve done doodly-squat to return your generosity.” One of his hands left her breast and slid down the plane of her stomach. “I’d very much like to rectify that.”

He spread out his palm as his touch traveled further south, long fingers teasing over her pelvic bone before dipping between her thighs. She felt his index finger sweep along the seam of her pants, right over the most sensitive part of her. It’s been so long since she felt anything other than her own fingers there and the touch felt foreign and new, sending her body jolting forward. With a sharp gasp, she instinctively clamped her legs together around his hand.

“Charlie…” Alastor’s voice was a barely above a whisper, low and rough despite the absence of his radio filter. “Let me touch you. Please, darling.”

“Y-Yes,” she responded breathlessly, legs trembling as she spread them open for him. “You can touch me, Alastor.”

She could hear his labored breathing in her ear, feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back. Between her legs, his fingers twitched against her clothed cunt.

“Show me where,” he rasped.

There was something urgent and earnest in his tone, like it was less a demand and more a relinquishment of power, a confession to needing her guidance. Charlie slid her hand down his forearm and gently grasped his wrist, then guided his touch inside her trousers. “Right here,” she murmured, positioning his fingers over her clit. She pressed them against the silky fabric of her panties and began moving them in a circular motion.

Alastor hummed curiously and mimicked her actions, rubbing the large pads of his fingers in slow circles against her clothed pussy. It only took a moment for him to find his cadence, the perfect combination of speed and pressure that had her lolling her head back on his shoulder.

“Fuck, Alastor… yes…” she moaned as she melted into him. “J-Just like that.”

Her praise made his cock give a few hearty thumps against her ass. She grinded back against it, wanting to reciprocate some of the pleasure she was feeling and relieve the throbbing need inside her. He groaned his approval, the hand on her breast dropping to her waist as he encouraged her movements.

“These hips of yours are devilish,” he hissed.

The radio demon continued his ministrations, fingers rubbing up and down her covered cunt as his thumb massaged her clit. Charlie chewed her bottom lip raw as she whimpered with pleasure. The hot ache between her legs made her entire body thrum with desire. Alastor’s fingers were like a matchstick, igniting a fire in her core as they swept against her panties. She felt his thumb hook under the fabric and pull them aside so he could dip his index finger between her folds. Lightning shot down her spine as she arched her back with a lewd moan. His finger wriggled experimentally through her slick as he dragged it up the length of her pussy.

“You’re very wet,” Alastor growled.

Her already flushed face burned even redder. “T-That’s… that’s a good thing.”

“I’m aware.” He pulled his hand out from her underwear, making her whine at the loss of his touch. “I’m not totally clueless about these matters, you know. Inexperience is not ignorance.” As he inspected the wetness on his fingers, he pressing his thumb and index finger together and slowly pulled them apart, causing the sticky substance to web and them break. A deep rumble of static sounded in his throat. “I must say, my dearest, I’m flattered I have this much of an effect on you.”

She knew she was having an effect on him too, if the hard thing relentlessly poking her in the ass right now was any indication. She watched him moistened his lips as he stared at his fingers, an acute hunger in his eyes. It made her hammering heart skip a beat, the fleeting thought that he might lick his fingers clean. Instead, his hand returned to the heat between her legs, slipping beneath her trousers and panties to stroke her wet folds. He was more emboldened now, fingers eager and deliberate as they explored every inch of her cunt, committing the shape of her to his muscle memory. Every stroke, every pinch made her trill with pleasure.

“Al…” she moaned. “Don’t stop… I’m… I’m…”

“I won’t,” he assured her, pressing his lips to her temple. “So long as you keep making all those pretty noises for me.”

As he continued working her clit, his middle finger slipped deeper into her pussy, nails grazing against her inner walls. Her voice, already ragged and spent, gave out completely as she emitted a harsh cry of his name. Hellfire blazed in her eyes as her hips surged forward, sinking the digit deeper inside her.

“Oh.” His voice rumbled low, sending a heady vibration down to her core. “Do you like that?”

She nodded helplessly, her cunt quivering around his finger. He withdrew it, then plunged it back inside her with a wet squelch. With a groan of delight, he began pumping his finger inside her, faster and faster until his entire body was moving in tandem with his arm. She rocked against his hand, needy whimpers falling freely from her lips. Just one of his fingers was enough to fill her, but she was desperate for more. He was as well, as it didn’t take long for him to slip a second finger inside her, earning himself a loud keen of approval. Her pussy pulsed and ached as he stretched the unused muscles, the pressure building inside her ready to burst as she felt the first shivers of her impending orgasm.

“Almost there?” It sounded like a genuine question, like he needed assurance he was doing this right.

“Mmhmm!” Charlie squeaked.

Alastor nuzzled against her neck, mumbling something that very much sounded like “me too”. The hand on her waist wrapped around her belly, trembling claws digging through the fabric of her shirt. She clutched to his forearm, squeezing it just as tightly, unsure of who was supporting who. Her vision sparkled, her hearing went tinny, and her inner walls were rapidly fluttering around his fingers as she felt herself begin to unravel.

“Go on, darling,” he murmured against her ear. “Come apart for me. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Bliss washed over her in hot waves, drowning her in her own pleasure. The radio tower spun rapidly around her, Alastor’s hold of her the only thing anchoring her to consciousness. She could feel her cunt gushing and clenching around his fingers. Lost to his own eagerness, it was all claws and clumsiness as he worked her through her climax. He grunted and groaned as he bucked his hips against her, grinding his stiff cock in the tight space between their bodies.

Charlie crashed down hard from her climax, her body heavy and boneless as it collapsed against the radio demon. He pulled his hand out from inside her pants and gave another satisfied groan as he watched her slick drip from his fingertips down to his knuckles. Almost reluctantly, he wiped the mess on the side of his trousers. As he curled his arms around her, she rested her head against his shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment, catching their breaths together.

“Good thing my radio tower is soundproof,” he teased. “You were quite the little songbird.”

She gave an embarrassed squeak, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He began chuckling and tucked a finger under her chin, lifting it so he could look into her eyes. His own held a softness that was reserved only for her, in private moments like this. Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly on the lips.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to touch you like that.” His eyes traveled up to the crown of her head, where she hadn’t even realized her devil horns had manifested. “Those are lovely, by the way. Nearly poked my eye out.”

“S-Sorry,” she stammered, putting her hand to one as she felt them begin to retract.

“Don’t be! I think I’d look rather dashing with an eye patch.”

She scrunched her nose at him, then met his lips again as her hand began to trail down his chest. “Can I return the favor?”

His grin went lopsided as he laughed weakly. “A-Ah, well… I’ll need a minute…”

He squirmed beneath her and she looked down, seeing the very large wet patch that had soaked through his trousers. She felt herself blush as heat pulsed in her belly again. She had made the radio demon cum in his pants.

“Oh. Did you-?”

He gave a sheepish nod. “Terribly uncouth of me, I know.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She teased her fingers over the damp fabric, feeling his bulge twitch with interest. Biting her lip, she met his gaze with a flicker of fire in her eyes. “It’s… it’s kinda hot.”

He raised a flirty eyebrow at her. “Is it?”

Neither of them had noticed the music had stopped playing quite some time ago. Alastor snapped his fingers and the record on his phonograph flipped itself over, filling the room with the crooning melody of saxophones and strings. With a mischievous grin, he rose to his feet, hoisting the princess up with him. She yelped as he saddled her thighs on his waist and walked them over to the loveseat in front of his fireplace.

“The night’s still young,” he said. “Why don’t we get a bit more comfortable?”

Charlie checked her appearance one last time in the powder room mirror. She nervously smoothed down her hair, ensuring the curled strands that framed her face were perfectly positioned. Spinning around, she looked to make sure her pantsuit was free from any wrinkles or stains. Should she have worn a dress instead? She wanted to make a good first impression and figured Alastor’s mom would be even more old-fashioned than he was. But she didn’t want to look too dolled up, like she was just some vapid rich girl playing sugar mama to the woman’s son. After giving her reflection a determined nod, she headed out to join the others.

The hotel lobby was buzzing with excitement and everyone was dressed in their hellish best. She didn’t know Angel Dust even owned a suit that hadn’t been ripped into some coquettish pin-up costume. And she’s never actually seen Husk wear a shirt before. Niffty had sewn together something that looked suspiciously like a wedding dress and the princess thought it best not to comment about that. Even Alastor looked extra dapper. His pinstriped coat was freshly pressed with all of its tears and frayed hems magically mended. He had slicked his hair back with pomade, though a few stubborn pieces had fallen onto his forehead. Although he had still tucked himself in his shadowy corner of the room, she saw his ears perk to attention as she made her way to the front of the group.

She carried with her a box of communication devices that heaven had delivered. The sleek, golden discs didn’t have screens or buttons, just a single opalescent gem in their centers. From what Vaggie and Emily had explained, it would project a hologram similar to the one Adam used when she first met him. Right now, they were nothing more than ornate paperweights, as they needed to be linked up to the interdimensional communication lines in order to function.

“Now remember, you all need to be on your best behavior,” Charlie stated. She waved the communication device in her hand. “And please don’t break these. We had to pay a huge security deposit for them and I’d like to get that back.”

She placed the golden disc on the floor, and right as the clock struck the hour, the gem in its center began glowing. Emily materialized in a shimmer of gold sparkles, her smile wide as she waved excitedly to the group.

“Oh my gosh! Hello everyone!” she greeted. “It’s so wonderful to meet all of you in person! Well, sort of.”

After a brief introduction, the angel began reading off the list of heavenly individuals as Charlie handed the activated golden discs to their hellish counterparts.

“Molly for a Mister Anthony?” Emily called out.

Angel Dust shot them a pair of double finger guns as he took the communication device from the princess.

“Patrick Hartwell Jr. for a Patrick Hartwell Sr.?”

“My Patty boy!” Peppy bounced out of his seat.

“Heather George for a, err… Mister Ted?”

Everything gave a strange look to Ted as he slithered forward to claim his golden disc.

“Of all the folks in heaven, you picked Heather to talk to?” Husk asked.

Ted shrugged. “We were watching Real Housewives of Imp City together and I wanted to catch her up on the episodes she missed.”

As Emily continued down the list, Charlie noticed that Alastor had emerged from his shadows as he waited for his name to be called. Arms crossed, smile small, he slowly made his way closer, trying not to look too eager.

“Last but not least, we’ve got Calvin Woods for… I apologize for the crude language… that old drunk bastard?”

Husk chuckled as he came forward. “Good one, Cal.”

“Wait, that’s it?” Charlie leaned over Emily’s shoulder and scanned down the list. Forgetting it was a hologram, she swiped her hand through it, thinking she could grab it and check for herself. “No, no, this isn’t right. There should be one more name on here!” She looked towards Alastor, whose stared expectantly back at her, his brow knitted in confusion.

Emily frowned. “Oh dear. I should have informed you ahead of time. I’m so sorry, Alastor. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to speak with your mother.”

“Did she decline his invitation or something?” the princess asked. “What happened?”

The angel shook her head. “No, it’s nothing like that. She’s not in heaven anymore. Her soul has passed on.”

It felt like someone had pried Charlie’s heart loose with a crowbar and let it drop to the pit of her stomach. She saw no reaction from the radio demon, his face completely expressionless, his eyes unblinking, his smile vacant. Those that had overheard all turned to look at him as he stood there frozen.

“Well then! That answers that. Do excuse me.” Black tendrils engulfed his form and he disappeared.

Charlie exchanged a fretful look with Emily, who offered an encouraging smile. “I think he handled that well,” the angel said.

The next hour trudged by and the princess spent most of it worrying about Alastor. She tried to share in what little joy she could muster with the hotel guests, but it was difficult to mask the sadness and disappointment she felt that the radio demon wasn’t among them. When the visiting hour was over, she skipped the debrief and didn’t even bother counting to make sure she got all the communication devices back before dashing up the staircase.

A long elevator ride later took her to the hallway that led to Alastor’s radio tower. The air was boggy, with a linger musk that smelled like wet, rotten wood. As she got close to his door, the stench got stronger and she could feel the humidity beading on her skin.

“What the-?”

Thick vines were growing out from inside the room, protruding from every crevasse around the door and in some spots breaking right through it. The doorknob had disappeared under the foliage. She rapped her knuckle against the door and called the radio demon’s name. When he didn’t answer, she began clearing away the brush and wrenched the door open wide enough so she could squeeze inside.

The inside of his radio tower was completely unrecognizable. His fireplace and bookcase were engulfed in a canopy of leafy vines. Beneath her boots, the wooden floorboards were wet and covered in moss. The stained-glass windows that encircled the room were gone. In their place was an endless stretch of bayou, larger than his radio tower used to be, larger than the entire hotel, larger than all of Pentagram City. She was surrounded by swampy waters, with tall needled tree that stretched high into the void-like sky above her. In the distance, she could see lights from what looked like a small cabin.

“Alastor!” she called out as she began heading towards the cabin. It was strange, no matter how far she walked, it never seemed to get any closer.

She recalled his room in the old hotel having a similar space. There was never much reason to visit Alastor in his private quarters back then, so she had only gotten a few glimpses of it. It never garnered much concern from her, aside from thinking maybe he was an outdoorsy guy who sometimes felt cooped up in the big city. But where she was now was different. Something weighed heavy on her in here and it wasn’t just the humidity.

Giving up on her trek to the cabin, Charlie looked around for any sign of the radio demon. Her attention was drawn to a large weeping willow tree, underneath which she spotted a pair of familiar red-tipped boots. She pushed through the green veil of branches and leaves to find him seated at his radio console. The equipment on top had been consumed by vines and the entire thing had sunken so low into the mud that he had propped his feet on it like an ottoman. There was a glass of dark liquor in his hand and a half-empty bottle tucked next to him on his armchair.

“Alastor?” she said hesitantly as she approached him.

“Hello, darling,” the radio demon greeted casually, as if it were any other time she visited his radio tower. “What brings you up here so early? Shouldn’t you still be downstairs playing phone operator?”

“Things wrapped up pretty quickly after the visiting hour ended,” she replied. “Is everything okay? You ducked out so fast, we didn’t get a chance to talk.”

“I’m as peachy as a summer cordial!” he replied cheerfully, too cheerfully, even for him. “Didn’t see a point in sticking around if I wasn’t going to participate. And just in case those crackpot conspiracies turned out to be true, I didn’t want to risk losing all my teeth.” He smirked at her. “Or other parts of me.”

His jokes did nothing to distill her concerns. She motioned around them. “So… umm, what’s all this?”

“Oh, nothing.” He plucked off the leaves that had skewered on his antlers. “Just did a bit of redecorating in here.”

Charlie leaned against the trunk of the willow tree and looked out at the dimly lit cabin, which seemed even farther away now. “I’m really sorry you didn’t get to talk to your mom, Alastor.” She paused, treading carefully with her next words. “I can understand if you’re upset about it.”

“Don’t be silly! I’m completely fine.” He wagged a finger at her. “If you recall, I was only doing this because you were so insistent about it. And besides, mama probably wouldn’t have wanted to talk to me a-any… a-a-anyways.” His voice cracked sharply out of its radio filter. Startled by this, he blinked hard a few times as if trying to combat the emotion glistening in his eyes. Then his face contorted in a grotesque mask of anguish, mouth twitching and tugging at the corners as it tried to rip free of his smiling façade. He abruptly turned away from her.

“Al…” Charlie softly whispered.

She perched on the arm of his chair, her hand settling lightly on his shoulder. The glass in his hand felt to the mossy ground with a soft thud. He hunched in on himself, crumbling like a dead leaf, crushed by the invisible weight of his despair. She didn’t say anything else, nor was she expecting him to respond. She just sat with him, hoping her company would bring some kind of comfort. After a few minutes, he began to speak.

“I always wondered if my mother knew the kind of despicable things I did,” he muttered. “There were only so many racist elevator operators and swindling bank tellers that could go missing before she’d get suspicious. I was a fool thinking I could paint the town so violently red and she wouldn’t notice.”

“If she did, I’m sure she had her reasons for not confronting you about it,” she reasoned.

“I wanted to come clean to her, you know. Thought maybe I could convince her I was doing a service to the city. Purging it of the scum and evil that preyed on good folks like her." He shook his head. “After a while, I stopped trying to convince even myself about that. And I was too afraid of what she’d think of me. That she’d see her own son as some kind of mmm-” The word grated into a tense hum as it got stuck in his throat.

“You’re not a monster, Alastor,” Charlie stated firmly.

He glanced at her for just a moment, a deeply wounded expression on his sullen face. “Oh Charlie. You and I both know that I am.”

Alastor went silent again and gazed up into the black abyss above them. “I wonder if she was even surprised when I never showed up in heaven. If she waited for me at all before she…” His voice died away, entombed by his grief. “I suppose now I’ll never know.”

Charlie watched as he looked out longingly at the unreachable cabin in the distance. She had a feeling it was a place he’s been before. And one he could never go back to.

For all the amateur therapy sessions, the self-help seminars, the motivational speeches she gave their hotel guests, right now she was at a loss for words. This wasn’t a problem she could fix with some roleplaying scenarios or an arts and crafts session. But she wanted Alastor to know that he wasn’t alone. That she wouldn’t let him suffocate in the muck and brambles of his despair.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close. With a heavy sigh, the radio demon slumped against her, burying his face in her chest as his hands clung desperately to her waist like a drowning man to a lifesaver.

She would stay with him in this swampy prison as long as he needed her to. And then a little longer after that.

It was a long, somber walk to Charlie’s room, and although Alastor had offered to warp her there with his magic, she insisted they take the long way. He didn’t really mind. Guilt, regret, and a bushel of other emotions clung to him like the burrs of a burdock weed. An evening stroll would help loosen these anchored troubles from his mind.

As they stood outside her bedroom door, he held her hands in his for a few lingering moments. This was the worst feeling of all, this deep ache of loneliness, this unbearable need for her companionship, even after he had gone belly-up and exposed all his vulnerabilities to her.

“Goodnight, darling,” he murmured before kissing her on the cheek. He turned to leave, then felt Charlie reclaim his hand.

“Al, don’t go back up to your radio tower. Stay here with me. I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

The irony was not lost on him. He had declined her invitations in the past, as innocent as her intentions had been. And now with the growing intimacy between them, he’s been eagerly waiting for her to ask again. He had just hoped it would be under different circumstances.

“You don’t need to coddle me, Charlie. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not coddling you. I care about you, Alastor.” She cupped his cheek, grazing her thumb against the sharp angle of his cheekbone. “And when you care about someone, you don’t want them to suffer their pain alone.”

The emotion that burned in his chest made his bones feel brittle. He pinched his eyes shut, helpless to douse them as they began blazing out of control. He felt flayed, like she had peeled back his skin to expose every muscle, nerve, and bit of sinew, seeing parts of him no one else ever had. Then his head fell heavy against her palm as he let himself melt into her comforting touch.

If he was going to be vulnerable with someone, let it be her. It would only ever be her.

Alastor opened his eyes. “I-I… I suppose I would like some company tonight.”

A short while later, he was in her ensuite bathroom, staring back at his bleary-eyed and foamy-mouthed reflection as he brushed his teeth. Next to the sink was a decorative cup that held Charlie’s toothbrush. He rinsed off his own, and without thinking much of it, dropped it in the cup next to hers.

Snapping his fingers, a pair of red flannel pajamas fell out of nowhere into his hands. He gave them a quick sniff and shrugged. A little musky, given how long they’d been sitting in his armoire, but it was better than the swampy stench of his current attire.

As he came out to the bedroom and draped his clothes over her desk chair, he saw Charlie was already under the covers. She looked him up and down, smile curling with intrigue.

“I didn’t realize you even owned pjs,” she joked.

“What, do you think I sleep in the nude?” he flirted back, enjoying how her cheeks tinged pink at his crassness.

He walked over to his side of the bed (his side, he was now realizing) and saw that she had already pulled down the blankets for him. He slipped underneath them and settled back against the pillow, steeping his fingers on top of his chest. She scooted closer to him, turning on her side as she propped her head up on her arm.

“It’s funny to think this isn’t the first time we’ve share a bed,” Charlie said. Her eyes flitted down to where the top button of his pajama shirt was undone. His angelic wound peeked out like a stalagmite of twisted, scarred flesh. She placed her hand on his chest, her touch warm against his bare skin as she traced the jagged edges of his scar. “I wish they had been under happier circumstances.”

Alastor laced his fingers through hers and held her hand against his heart. “Well, at least I didn’t get stabbed in the chest this time.”

She frowned. “I really am sorry about your mom, Alastor. I shouldn’t have forced you to participate in that holy meet-and-greet.”

He shook his head. “No, darling, I’m glad you did. I would have never found out what happened to her otherwise. As difficult as that truth is to accept, I’m grateful to know it.”

Charlie smiled tenderly at him as she ran her fingers through the bits of his bangs that were still swept back, loosening the last tacky remnants of pomade. The sheets rustled as she shifted closer to him, then she pressed her lips to his in a soft, but lingering kiss. He scooped her in his arms, drawing her even closer as they sank down into the pillows and blankets together.

They held each other in a languid embrace, her head resting on his chest, his fingers stroking lazily along her spine, their legs tangled together beneath the sheets. In the comfortable silence between them, he started chuckling. She rested her chin on his sternum and looked up at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just thinking what mama would say if she knew I was sharing a bed with the girl I fancied.”

She laughed. “I think there are other things we’ve done that would scandalize her even more.”

He arched a playful eyebrow at her in agreement. “Mmm, indeed we have.”

“What was she like?” Charlie asked.

“Kind. Generous. Gentle, but still one tough broad. She had a big green thumb and two left feet. Much preferred a day in her garden to a night in the dance hall. And she was one hell of a mezzo-soprano.” His expression softened as he reminisced. “You two would have gotten along like ice cream and apple pie. I wish you could have met her.”

She placed her head back on his chest and snuggled against him. “Wherever she is now, I know she’s happy for us.”

As sleep made his mind foggy and his body heavy, Alastor closed his eyes and rested his head on top of the princess’s. Her presence was soothing. All the soft parts of hers pressed against him, their chests rising and falling together, the cozy warmth of their embrace. And knowing that when he woke up in the morning, she would still be right here beside him.

When his mother died, it was a numbing grief. Immense sadness, then an overwhelming sense of nothingness. The feeble string that tied him to his humanity had severed. His heart didn’t feel empty, it had stopped being a vessel altogether. What little capacity he had for love died along with her.

But as he held Charlie in his arms, he realized that perhaps he hadn’t lost his capacity for love. Perhaps that well was even deeper now.

Chapter Text

A rosy glow warmed Charlie’s cheeks as the first rays of hellish sunlight shone through her bedroom window. She slowly stirred awake, smiling as she stretched and rolled over to sling her arm across her bed companion. It fell against the blanket. She opened her eyes to find the spot empty but not yet cold.

“Good morning, darling.”

She startled, then sat up and turned back towards the window. Alastor was seated in her desk chair, already dressed, his red hair illuminated in a fiendish halo from the sunlight. Through half-lidded eyes he had been watching her, for how long she didn’t know, and his lingering gaze heated her cheeks more than the sunrays.

“Coffee?” he inquired.

She rubbed sleepily at her eyes. “Sure.”

Grin widening, he dissolved into shadows before reappearing a second later next to her. There were two paper coffee cups in his hands, adorned with the logo of Ask Not For Whom The Pot Drips on the cup sleeves. He gave her one, then knocked his own against it before taking a sip.

“How did you-? Never mind.” She brought the procured coffee to her lips, letting the warm liquid washed away her last dregs of drowsiness.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave her knee an affectionate pat. “Slept well, I hope?”

“I did. Really well, actually.” It had been so easy, dozing off in his arms, listening to the melody-less lullaby composed of his drumming heart and the static that resonated in his chest. She had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. No thoughts, feelings, or images in her mind, just a comforting sense of him. “What about you?” she asked.

“Like the dead!” he replied cheerfully.

Charlie smiled, knowing it was more than a restful night’s sleep that had the radio demon in a good mood. He seemed lighter, like something heavy and burdenous had been lifted from him. And although his mask was back up, his smile sewn tight, his emotions packed back down in their snuff box, she could sense his gratitude towards her. It was unspoken, but evident from the care in his eyes, the appreciative hand squeezing her knee, the cup of coffee she held that was prepared just the way she liked it. He watched her as she took another sip, and before she could smack her lips to catch the few stray drops of liquid, he kissed her, savoring the sweet taste for himself. As he pulled away, his smile curled with satisfaction.

“So!” Alastor hopped up determinedly from the bed. “I took the liberty of clearing your schedule this evening.”

Her eyebrow arched with suspicion. “Why’s that?”

“Because you and I will be going on a proper date tonight!” He waggled a finger at her. “Now I’m not talking about a pretend business meeting in some overpriced café or canoodling in the back of Rosie’s shop. I mean a real night out on the town! Dinner, drinks, dancing, all the sophisticated merriment a royal gal like yourself deserves.”

“Aww Al, that all sounds wonderful,” she responded. “But you don’t need to fuss over me like that. I like our coffee dates and quiet nights together. Besides, won’t people get suspicious if they see us out on an actual date? It’s not like we need to give them anymore reason to gossip about the hotel.”

“No need to fret about that. I know just the place where we can keep a low profile.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a secret. You’ll just have to trust me.” He gave her a crooked grin and offered his hand. “And I already ask Niffty to iron my best suit, so I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She returned a flirtatious smile as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up from the bed. “It would be a shame to let all her hard work go to waste.”

Charlie breathed in the scent of lavender soap as she sat atop the washing machine, her heels thumping against the side in a counter-rhythm to the spinning dryer. Laundry room. Eight o’clock sharp. Bring your appetite and dancing shoes. That’s what Alastor had told her. It was an odd place to meet for whatever fancy night he had planned, though the man did love his peculiarities as much as his dramatics. She had a feeling this evening would contain a bit of both.

From out in the lobby, she heard the faint chime of the wall clock. Once, twice, before the lights in the laundry room dimmed and shadows started billowing across the floor. She saw the radio demon’s smile first before the rest of him materialized.

Her heart fluttered at the sight of him, tall and lean in a blood red tuxedo, its long tails flapping against the back of his thighs. The rest of his ensemble was pitch black, from his pleated dress shirt, to his velvety bowtie, to the tips of his polished boots. His coifed hair was the finishing touch, though a few strands were already threatening to misbehave.

“Don’t you look handsome,” she greeted, biting her bottom lip as she checked him out.

“And look at you!” He offered his hand and helped her off the washing machine. She laughed as he pulled her into a twirl, the beaded fringe on her dress flaring out and spinning with her. “I thought you might need some of my magical tailoring skills for such a special occasion, but this is lovelier than anything I could have conjured. Is that a new dress?”

“Sort of. I actually bought it for the overlord summit.” She smoothed down the bits of fringe that had gotten tangled, then shyly looked up at him. “Just in case you changed your mind about going with me.”

His eyes raked deliberately down her form, gleaming with a wild delight as he realized she had gotten this dress specifically for him. He gave her another twirl, much slower this time, taking in her appearance.

The dress was the perfect complement to his attire. It was the color of a dark currant wine, nearly black, except for when the intricate beading caught the light and sparkled like rubies. Alastor’s eyes lingered for an indulgent moment on the plunging neck line that exposed a hefty amount of cleavage before shifting down to where the layers of fringe gently hugged her curves. Unlike the dress Vox had made for her, this one actually did an adequate job of covering her, falling to just above the knee. As he finished spinning her, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to the back of her hand.

“You look as pretty as a picture,” he murmured.

She blushed from the intimate gesture. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Just one final touch.” With a flourish of magic, two masquerade masks appeared in his hands. He offered one to her. “Where we’re going has quite the affinity for anonymity. There are only two rules there. The first, everyone is no one.” He popped off his monocle and tucked it into his breast pocket. “Whether they’re the lowliest of downtrodden sinners or one of those blue-blooded beastly brethren of yours, it doesn’t matter. No one reveals their true identity.”

The mask he donned had a set of silvery-black antlers that stretched higher than his ears. Charlie looked down at the one he gave her, which was adorned with a dainty pair of opalescent goat horns. She smirked at him. “A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Just because we’re being discreet doesn’t mean we have to sacrifice style.” His mask did little to disguise his impish smile. “Indulge me, darling. Won’t you?”

She brought her mask to her face, brushing her hair out of the way of its horns. “Where are we going, anyways?”

“Ah! That brings us to the second rule. Here is nowhere. No one actually knows how to get there. Not by foot, anyways.”

“So how do we get there?”

He pulled a coin from his pocket, which wasn’t carved from metal but some kind of gemstone. It had a familiar violet hue that the princess recognized, but couldn’t quite place where from. Alastor danced it between his fingers as he approached the washing machine. The appliance had a defunct coin slot that she had taped up, mostly so Niffty would stop stuffing it with chewed bubblegum. She watched as he tore off the tape and slipped the coin inside.

“Err, Al? You know you don’t have to pay to do laundry here, right?”

He turned to her with a cryptic grin, his mask illuminated by the purple glow that was now emanating from within the washing machine. After opening its porthole door, he gestured inside.

“Ladies first,” he said.

Charlie took his outstretched hand, and crouching down, allowed him to help her inside the swirling portal. On the other side, she stepped out of another washing machine and found herself in a dingy laundromat. The place was empty except for a pot-bellied incubus, who had his feet propped up on a laundry basket and was fast asleep against a row of tumbling dryers.

Alastor crawled through the portal after her, stretching his back with a groan as he rose to his full height. He approached a stack of machines, all of which had “out of order” signs taped to their fronts. Hanging on the wall above them was a flickering neon sign with the words Dirty Laundry. He tugged on the handle of one of the doors, but it didn’t open. Instead, the entire wall began to split apart, revealing a hidden stairway behind the washing machines. The passageway led deep into an underground cavern, its uneven steps carved directly into the stone.

Charlie cautiously approached the top of the stairway. “What is this place?” she asked as she peered down into the darkness.

The radio demon summoned his cane. He gave it a tap against his boot, lighting up the eye like a torch, and pointed it down the steps to illuminate their path. “Welcome to Dirty Laundry!” he exclaimed. “Hell’s finest, and only, speakeasy.”

“A speakeasy? I never realized we had any of those in hell.”

“This place offers its patrons something much more surreptitious than some watered-down moonshine.”

“Like what?” she asked as they proceed down the stairs. “Not much is illegal down here.”

“Otherworldly pleasures. That is, from the land of the living.”

“You mean they smuggle in stuff from the human world?”

Alastor nodded. “This fine establishment draws in two types of people. Those that seek the comforts and indulgences of their old lives-” He bared his teeth in a wicked grin. “And those, who in a lawless land, still want to break the rules.”

They had reached the bottom of the stairs, where another incubus stood guard in front of a thick velvet curtain. Above it, the two rules Alastor had mentioned were chiseled into the stone archway. Everyone is no one. Here is nowhere. He flashed his purple coin at the demon, who gave a wordless nod before pulling back the curtain.

“Woah…” Charlie clung to the radio demon’s arm as she took in her surroundings.

The cavern was carved from the same bedrock as the one beneath V Tower, and she wondered if this caving system reached to the far ends of Pentagram City or even the entire Pride ring. The rough-hewn stone walls glistened under the flickering gas lamps, which cast the room in a warm, moody glow. The bar, with its dark wood and stained-glass panels, reminded her of the one at the hotel. She wondered if this is where Alastor got his inspiration when creating it. Plush velvet booths lined the perimeter, where masked patrons huddled in hushed conversations with their glasses of mortal-brewed booze. A small stage was in the center of the cavern, the jazz band playing there obscured by the smoky haze that swirled around them. The atmosphere was a seductive blend of sophistication and illicit intrigue, heightened by the heavy scent of whiskey, cigars, and something distinctively not from hell that hung in the air.

She watched as a waiter passed by with what looked like a severed human leg atop a silver platter. Another carried a decanter filled with a fizzy lime-green drink and a stack of hamburgers wrapped in greasy yellow paper. She didn’t know which one looked less appetizing.

Alastor had been watching her as she looked around wide-eyed and awestruck. “So what do you think?”

“It’s incredible.” They both stopped to allow another incubus server to cross their path, who was escorting a long-snouted animal on a leash. She recognized it from one of her human history books as an anteater. “So how exactly do they bring in stuff from the human world?”

The radio demon shrugged as he led her to one of the vacant booths. “Some crystal whosie-whatsits. I’m not quite sure of the exact process.”

It was then she noticed the gem broach on the animal wrangler’s lapel, the crystal earrings a nearby waiter was wearing, the bedazzled choker around the bartender’s neck, all made of the same stone as the coin Alastor had. “Asmodean crystals,” she realized. “Oh wow, I wonder if Uncle Ozzie knows about this place?”

“Hell’s best kept secret,” he mused. “Or so folks would say, if they knew about it.”

As they slid into the booth together, he scooted close and slung his arm around her shoulder. She adjusted her mask, feeling a bit apprehensive about being so cuddly in public.

“Relax, darling,” he murmured. “No one knows who we are. No one cares.” He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. “Tonight, we don’t have to pretend, we don’t have to hide. We can just be us.”

She wondered if that was the real reason he brought her here. Not to dazzle her with all the glitz and glamor, not to relish in these clandestine activities he so enjoyed, but because he just wanted to be seen together. Not as business partners, but as a couple. To hold her, to kiss her, openly and without restraint, so everyone who saw them knew that she was his. And they could do so tonight, while stripped of their identities, free from the repercussions that such a reveal would have. How her father would react, how it would affect the hotel, how it would give his fellow overlords even more reason to scrutinize them, none of that mattered.

All that mattered tonight was the two of them.

She snuggled into the crook of his arm, hand landing on his chest and tucking slightly under the lapel of his jacket. As a masked couple passed by their table and spared them a glance, she kissed him on the cheek, just because she could.

Alastor whistled for one of the waiters to bring over a menu. The offerings were extensive, everything from gourmet meals straight from a human chef’s kitchen, to every heart-attack-inducing fast food chain in the mortal world, to something called baby back ribs that she hoped weren’t made from actual human babies. The alcohol list had wines and spirits dated centuries before Charlie was born, along with a few eclectic choices that came with a disclaimer for patrons to consume at their own peril. Why anyone would want to take shots of holy water and burn a hole through their esophagus, she didn’t know.

The bottom of the menu had a section just labeled Human Experiences, the first of which was called The Catholic Guilt Special. Underneath it was smaller text indicating the pricing for a nun or priest. Yard sticks were standard, paddles were extra.

Alastor saw where her eyes had wondered and gave a nervous chuckle. “There’s something here to everyone’s taste. Personally, I stick to the dinner menu.”

She returned to the less salacious offerings, reading off the ones she found interesting to get his opinion. “Forbidden apple tart, made with freshly plucked apples from Eden,” she said aloud. “Oh wow, the Eden?! I didn’t think that place still existed!”

He looked down to where she was pointing. “I’m afraid that’s Eden, North Carolina, my dearest.”

Several courses and empty glasses later, Charlie was enjoying the last bites of her apple tart while the radio demon sloshed around his fifth or sixth glass of bourbon while he talked. She listened with a smitten smile as he prattled on how gin tastes best when it’s made in a cast iron bathtub, that the fried crawdads they ate were better than any of that fishy slop imported from the Envy ring, and several other of his back in my day soapbox opinions.

She knew the man was old-fashioned and stubbornly resistant to the modern world. At times, it made her sad for him, to be so stuck in his ways while the rest of society progressed without him. The life he left behind was so carefully guarded, and despite how seldomly he talked about it, he still clung to those times like he’d had no identity without them. But little by little, he was opening up, and tonight it felt like he wanted to share what little bit of that life he could salvage with her.

“Do you come here often?” she asked.

“On occasion. When I’ve craving a whiskey that doesn’t leave the taste of fire and brimstone in my mouth. And sometimes it’s just fun to misbehave. You can quite literally get away with murder down here. It’s difficult to find something that gives me that same rebellious rush I felt when I was alive.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards in a devious smile. “But breaking what few rules your father and his troupe of circus freaks decided to enforce down here? That comes fairly close.”

She laughed. “You know, I don’t think my dad would give a shit that this place existed. He actually really likes human things. His workshop is packed full of all the stuff he’s collected over the years.”

Alastor set his drink on the table and blinked hard at her. “Well, damn! You might have just ruined this place for me, Charlie.”

She clasped her hands to her mouth. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, Al! I didn’t mean to!” She frantically thought of a way to backtrack her statement. “Err, maybe dad would a little peeved if… umm…” She stopped when she saw how his cheeks had inflated as he held in a laugh. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

His shoulders shook as a cackle burst out of him. “This place is just a novelty now. A fancy cave with overpriced liquor, imported apples, and a few spank-happy nuns. The allure wore off decades ago.”

He reached for his glass, but Charlie put her hand on his before he could pick it up. She leaned in closer. “Maybe your tastes have changed.”

His grin widened as he closed the remaining space between them. “Maybe they have,” he agreed before kissing her.

They sat for a little while longer, cozied up together while they enjoyed a few more rounds of drinks. She watched as more and more people gathered on the dance floor in front of the stage, then the entire room suddenly broke out in claps and whistles.

Alastor perked up as well. “Just our luck! Looks like Johnny Twelve-Fingers is playing tonight.”

“Who?”

“Some talentless hack who sold his soul for a good pair of ivory ticklers. Part of that deal was to be the in-house entertainment here. An unpaid gig, of course.”

Charlie looked to the stage to see a short and stubby-fingered human man approached the piano. He sat down on the bench and wriggling his fingers over the keys in a warm-up. Next to each pinky was an additional digit, green and grotesque but surprisingly nimble.

“Johnny’s set list never disappoints.” Alastor turned towards her, smile quirked flirtatiously to one side. “What do you say, my dearest? Fancy a few spins on the dance floor?”

She beamed at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The words no sooner left her mouth before he yanked her out of the booth and onto her feet. As the band kicked into a lively swing number, he grabbed her by the waist and guided her into a quick trot across the dance floor. Despite the countless times they’ve danced together, she still found it difficult to keep up with his fast and fancy footwork.

It was a sight to watch him, prancing and twisting on those long legs of his, his tailcoat squishing in time to the music. He really was a man of contradictions. Tall and gangly, yet graceful. Unassuming, yet deadly. Enigmatic, yet surprisingly sentimental. Cruel, sadistic, and so many other terrible things, yet never with her. He was awful and wonderful, equal parts of him that she equally adored, because he wouldn’t be Alastor without both of them.

As the princess followed his lead, the fringe on her dress whipped back and forth with her movements. He pulled her close, then sent her twirling away, nearly letting go of her hand before he’d reel her back into his arms. Johnny Twelve-Fingers plunked a catchy bassline as they hopped along, shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Alastor laced their fingers together and spun her towards him, crossing his arms over hers as he held her to his chest. They shimmied along to the lively rhythm before he turned her back to face him.

Their laughter mingled with the music as they continued dancing, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulders. With a playful grin, he dipped her low, the ends of her hair brushing the floor as she arched back, trusting him completely.

His scarlet eyes were intense behind his mask, pools of warm affection that burned hot with desire at their centers. How long the pair stayed like that, Charlie didn’t know. Time slowed to a halt, neither of them moving as they held each other’s gaze. It felt like she was transported back to the night of his dance lessons, all those months ago, when something stronger than friendship had begun to stir in her heart for the radio demon.

Just like that night, she wanted him to kiss her. And this time he actually did.

The music swelled triumphantly as his lips met hers. His arms wrapped tightly around her, his long fingers imprinting themselves into the bare skin of her back. She was quite literally swept off her feet, with one hoof popped in the air and the other teetering on its heel. Although she knew he wouldn’t let her go, she clung to his shoulders with a surrendering need. Her eyes drifted close, and when she opened them a moment later, the music had lulled and the other couples had stopped dancing. She peered nervously around them.

“I think everyone is watching us,” she mumbled.

“Let them watch,” he whispered hurriedly, his lips barely a hair’s breadth away from hers. “I dare any of them to say a damn thing about it.”

Alastor kissed her again, passionately, possessively, defiantly, his claws threading through the beaded strings on her dress as he clutched her impossibly closer. The whole of him seemed to pulse in tandem with her rapidly beating heart. His mouth was wet and hot against her own, tongue pushing insistently against her lips to demand entry. She took a short gasp of breath and the appendage darted hungrily into her mouth, licking and prodding at every inch of it, denying her the chance to breathe unless it was air she took from his own lungs. She did so greedily, her hands rising to bracket his face as she pushed deeper into their kiss.

When he finally set the princess back on her feet, they were both completely breathless. Her mask had been knocked askew and she quickly adjusted it. He looked a bit disheveled as well. His bangs had completely rebelled, having freed themselves from the pomade in his hair to flop down over his mask. She flicked them playfully with her hand before brushing them away from his eyes. She actually preferred them this way. No part of the radio demon could ever be fully tamed.

The lights in the speakeasy dimmed low. Johnny Twelve-Fingers played a lazy arpeggio as he interluded into a jazz ballad, accompanied by the mellow swish of the drummer’s brushes. The dance floor had mostly cleared out, with just a handful of couples swaying to the music.

Alastor reclaimed her waist, pulling her against him as his opposite hand found hers. “How about one last dance before the band retires?”

Charlie gave a wistful sigh as she draped her arm around his neck. “Does the night have to end already?”

In the soft glow of the lamplights, he drew her into a slow, dreamlike dance. She leaned into him, her head falling against his chest, and felt his chin settle atop her hair, right between the horns of her mask. The other couples disappeared, the music faded away, the entire speakeasy vanished. The world had narrowed to just the space between them.

“I’m glad we came here tonight,” she murmured. “Thank you for sharing this little slice of your old life with me.”

“Well, you are so very nosy about it,” he teased.

She looked up at him. “I like hearing about your life, Alastor. The good, the bad, the happy memories, the things you regret, all of it. I know it was a long time ago, but it’s still a huge part of who you are.”

“I suppose it is.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Alright darling. You may ask me one thing about my time as a human.”

“Wait, really? Anything?”

“Anything,” he confirmed. “And I promise to answer truthfully.”

Charlie’s mind reeled with possibilities, but there was one question that she’s wanted to ask Alastor since he first arrived on the hotel’s doorstep. “Do you regret doing what you did? You know, killing all those people?”

He stiffened, surprised by the seriousness of her inquiry. Then a cold resolve steeled his eyes. “No. Most of them deserved it.”

“And the ones that didn’t?”

His smile curled facetiously. “I do believe that counts as a second question.”

She rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath about him being a stickler for semantics, but nonetheless accepted his answer.

“I don’t regret what I did, Charlie,” he continued. “Or where I ended up as a result. Otherwise, I never would have met you.”

The sentiment seared on the princess’s heart like a brand. “Am I really worth an eternity in hell?”

His voice dropped from its filter, soft and sincere as he spoke. “If I was given a million do-overs, I would damn my soul in every single one of them if it meant I could be with you.”

The emotion that burned in her chest wasn’t affection or adoration. It was something else, something she’s known for a while now that she felt for the radio demon. And maybe if the human world brewed their alcohol a little stronger, she’d have the courage right now to confess it to him.

“Regardless of how you ended up down here, I’m still really glad that you did,” she told him instead.

“If not for the murders, I’m sure they would have dinged me on something else. Like tax fraud. Or jaywalking.”

Cheek to cheek they continued dancing, savoring the last vestiges of the evening. Charlie wanted to stay here forever, or at least until the night melted into morning. She might not have a say in the matter, if Alastor refused to let her go. Even after the band played its final notes and began packing up their instruments, he continued swaying them to a silent encore, his hold of her possessive and unyielding.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Mmm,” she hummed faintly in response.

He pulled away suddenly. “I need to hear you say it. Please, Charlie. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There was a dark desperation in his eyes that caused a sudden rush of panic to seize her. Was this all part of his master plan? Everything he’s done since they met, every word, every action, every touch. Had it been a perfectly calculated seduction? Was it his goal to break down her defenses, to weed his way into her heart, to woo her with a night of grand romantic gestures, so when she was completely blinded by her affection for him, he could take from her what he actually wanted?

Charlie realized she didn’t care. The radio demon already had her heart to break. What worse could he do with her soul?

“I’m yours, Alastor,” she returned.

No chains appeared around her neck. No eerie green magic lit the room. Alastor simply cupped her face with both hands, his expression raw, sincere, and so very human. There was something deep and longing in his eyes. Was it love? He surged forward and kissed her.

It was nearly two in the morning when they returned to the hotel. Charlie reached for Alastor’s hand as she stepped out of the washing machine, then stumbled into his arms when her foot slipped on the soapy floor. They shared a quiet laugh as they tiptoed into the lobby, peeking around the corner to make sure none of the hotel residents were having a very late nightcap at the bar. Just Husk was there, passed out in a puddle of his own drool, like he was most nights.

“The elevator’s too noisy,” she whispered. “So we should probably take the- oh!”

She was about to suggest they use the stairs when the radio demon scooped her into his arms and they disappeared in a whirlwind of shadows. A moment later they were inside her bedroom. So taken by surprise, she had wrapped her arms around his neck in a choking grip, only loosening it once he placed her back down on her feet.

She let out a huff as she straightened the hem of her dress. “You really need to warn me before you do that!”

He chuckled, looking pleased with himself. “But it’s so very entertaining when I don’t. Besides, it’s much more efficient than sneaking back up to your room like some wily teenager trying not to wake their parents.”

She gave him a suggestive smirk. That wasn’t too far off from their reality. Taking off her mask, she brushed her thumb along one of the opalescent goat horns, admiring how it glittered in an array of colors. She placed it on her desk, next to a framed family picture and a few other sentimental trinkets that she liked to look at while she worked.

“Tonight was wonderful, Alastor,” she said as she turned back towards him. “I really had a nice time.”

His smile softened with sincerity. “I’m delighted to hear it. You’re quite good company, my dearest.”

“I wish we could do this more often.” She stepped close and reached for his mask, gently removing it from his face. “And not have to hide the fact that we’re together.”

“Perhaps someday,” he replied, a tinge of sadness to his tone.

The mask disappeared from her hands in a sizzle of green smoke, back to whatever magical void he conjured it from. In the silence that followed, there was a buzz of anticipation between them, unspoken words that each hoped the other would voice first. They both startled at the distant chime of the clock tower outside, breaking their conversational stalemate.

Alastor cleared his throat. “It really is quite late, isn’t it?” He reached into his breast pocket to retrieve his monocle, then gave it a quick polish before placing it against his cheekbone. “I suppose I should get going. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow, given the work we missed this evening.”

“Oh.” She failed to disguise her deflated tone. “Yeah, I guess so. Well, I’ll see you in the morning then?”

“Bright and early. As always, darling.”

He gently cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her. There was something tense in the gesture, the minute tremble of his fingers against her cheek, the stiffness of his lips against hers. She felt it too, in the way her hand gripped a little too tightly to his shirt and the whine she felt rising in her throat when he pulled away.

She clutched her hands over her hammering heart as his form dissolved into a black haze. The second he was gone, she flopped down on her bed with a frustrated sigh, shaking away her disappointment that the night hadn’t ended in the way she was hoping. The evening had been absolutely perfect. She shouldn’t ruin it because she had deluded herself into believing that Alastor had something more planned.

As she stewed in her thoughts, she drew the jacket she was wearing closer around herself. Looking down at the blood red sleeves that hung limply off her shoulders, she sat up abruptly. Alastor’s tailcoat! She had completely forgotten he had given it to her at the end of the night when she complained about how chilly the cavern passageway was.

Charlie hopped to her feet. Slipping off the jacket, she smoothed down the wrinkles and draped it over her arm. She’d go up to his radio tower right now to return it. And while she was up there, maybe she’d joke about his lack of a proper bed, or mentioned how the room needed to properly dry out from all that swamp water, or lament about some paperwork she forgot was due the next morning that she could really use his help with. Any excuse to ask him to stay the night with her again.

She grinned determinedly to herself as she approached her bedroom door. When she opened it, she was surprised to find Alastor already on the other side.

“Al!” she squeaked. “I was just on my way up to see you.” She held up the tailcoat. “I forgot you lent me your jacket. Is that why you came back down here?”

He didn’t respond as she placed the garment in his hands. For a moment, he just stared at it, then let it slip from his grip and crumple to a heap on the floor. Slowly his eyes met hers, black as an abyss, radio dials glowing crimson in their centers.

“No. It’s not.”

He lunged over the threshold of the door, grasping the nape of her neck as he claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss and pushed her back inside the room.

After bidding goodnight to Charlie, Alastor did not return to his radio tower. In fact, he only made it as far as the hallway outside her room. With a defeated groan, he slumped against the wall, banging his head against it a few times as he silently chastised himself. His shadow slithered out from below him and crept up the bedroom door, taunting him with its jagged smile, reminding him of the prize on the other side that he had just denied himself.

“Get lost,” he hissed. His shadow’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as it slinked back to the floor and returned to his person.

He had pulled out all the stops tonight, treating Charlie to an evening of elegance and enchantment that she so deserved. Everything had gone exactly as he planned, and he had every intention of ending the night by sealing a different kind of deal with her. But when the opportunity presented itself, he didn’t take it. Perhaps he too had been beguiled by the magic and romance of the evening, and once that allure wore off, reason and sensibility had set back in.

His hands clutched at his head, grabbing fistfuls of hair. No, he wanted her. He so desperately wanted her. He has for a long time now. And the little tastes he’s gotten of her over the last few weeks only succeeded in driving him further towards the brink of insanity. This wasn’t just lust or hunger, his need for the princess was visceral. The agonizing ache inside of him felt like his soul had been torn to shreds and her touch was the only thing that could put the pieces of him back together.

Then why did this terrify him so? Why did he continue to push the limits of her patience and understanding? Why couldn’t he just tell her that he wanted her? Tell her he was afraid of how badly he wanted her? Tell her he needed her assurance that he didn’t have to be afraid?

Alastor stared at the bedroom door, willing himself to approach it. He lumbered over and stood frozen in the doorframe, fists clenched at his side, chest rising sharply as his emotions thrash and gnawed at his insides. And just when he thought he mustered enough courage to knock, the door opened.

“Al!” Charlie yelped in surprise. “I was just on my way up to see you. I forgot you lent me your jacket. Is that why you came back down here?”

She handed over his tailcoat and he grazed his thumb over the blood red fabric before letting it drop carelessly to the floor. Just as carelessly, he threw away his trepidations and finally surrendered to his all-consuming desire.

“No. It’s not.”

He crashed into her, lips meeting hers in a rough, fervent kiss. One hand slipped behind her neck while the other wrapped tightly around her waist as they both stumbled back into the room. He kicked the door shut behind them as he marched them towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the mattress and she fell, bringing him down with her. He pinned her between his legs, his assault on her mouth unrelenting.

“A-Alastor…!” His name started as a gasp and melted into a moan. She closed her eyes, neck craning to give him better access as he began planting kisses down the column of pearly white skin. He bit into the supple flesh where her neck met her shoulder, earning himself another moan. Her hands clung to his back, trembling as they twisted into the fabric of his shirt.

All the scents of the speakeasy still clung to her skin. The sharp sting of alcohol, a blend of apple and cinnamon, the lingering musk of cigars, and a hint of lavender soap. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, realizing he hadn’t taken a breath since he entered the room. The salty tang of her skin prickled against his lips as he mouthed over her collarbone and down her cleavage. She whimpered, arching her back into his touch. He wanted her imprinted on all of his senses, the smell of her, the taste of her, the sounds she made. Like staring into the sun, he wanted her beauty seared so indelibly into his vision, that even when he closed his eyes, he still saw her.

Charlie looked stunning this evening, in a dress the color of congealed blood, its flapper fringe bouncing around as joyously as she did. He had pretended tonight, for a little while at least, that they weren’t in hell. That he was back in New Orleans, before all his sins had caught up with him. And she was his sweetheart, his dance partner pour toujours, the gal who managed to get radio’s most eligible bachelor to finally settle down. She had played the part so well for him, dressed to the nines and meeting him step-for-step on the dance floor. It had been difficult for him to let that fantasy go.

His hands trailed up her waist, fingers carding through the beaded strings. Hungry eyes raked slowly down her body, admiring how the dress clung so perfectly to her curves. The fringe splayed around her like spilled entrails, entangled in his claws as if he was the one who had ripped them from her. He let them slip freely from his grasp.

“Charlie.” His eyes scanned back up to meet hers. “Don’t ever wear this dress for anyone but me.”

Her chest rose shallowly with tiny, nervous pants as she stared up at him, eyes large and expectant. She gave a single nod of understanding.

His mouth was on hers again, starving and possessive, giving her little reprieve as his tongue plunged down her throat. His hands had dropped to her thighs, rucking up her dress as he felt up to where her stockings ended. The fabric tore as he deliberately dragged his fingernails along it and she gave a protesting squeak in response. He shimmied her dress up to her waist, revealing a dainty pair of pink undergarments, adorned with a bow, as if she was a gift for him waiting to be unwrapped.

Alastor could hear his own ragging breathing, sharp swells of feedback like a radio transmitter losing its signal. Spit and ichor dribbled down his chin and a long string of it splattered against the princess’s chest. Between his legs, his cock strained painfully against the tightness of his trousers, desperately hard and throbbing, already smearing a pathetic mess along the inside of his boxer shorts. The desire was dizzying and he shut his eyes for a moment, trying to regain some control before it completely eroded his consciousness. When he opened them, radio dials quivered in their pitch-black sockets.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he rasped, the static scraping like sandpaper against his vocal chords. “Tell me now, Charlie, before I’m unable to.”

“Don’t you dare.” Charlie took his face in her hands and pulled him into another kiss. “Don’t you dare stop, Alastor.”

She spread her thighs open, the enticing heat between her legs drawing his hips forward. He pressed his erection against her clothed sex and gave a deep groan, bucking hard against her. Then he did it again and again, until he had built to a mindless and manic rut, near delusional in his lustful pursuit of relief. She clutched to his waist, dragging him forward and back as she encouraged his movements, whimpering when the length of him pushed against her folds. They continued this way for a few minutes, their pace frantic, the bed squeaking underneath them from their joint efforts. But soon the small noises of pleasure they shared became strained, both vocalizing a wordless need for more.

With a frustrated grunt, Alastor rolled back on his haunches. He couldn’t take this anymore. He needed to be inside her. He was too far gone to even scold himself for such a vulgar, ungentlemanly thought. There was no point anymore in dressing up his desires in the frilly and silly prose that was his regular vernacular, as if that somehow made them more acceptable. He knew exactly what he wanted. To sink his aching cock into Charlie’s tight wet pussy and fuck her until they both collapsed into a boneless, spent heap of tangled limbs and ruined sheets.

In a frantic fumble, he began wrestling with the button of his trousers, but his hands were shaking so violently, he couldn’t unfasten them.

“Stupid… fucking… gonnakillthatgoddamntailor…” The radio demon grumbled a string of curses to himself, then hissed when his fingernail chipped on the brass button. Green flames licked his fists as he contemplated burning a hole right through his pants fly.

“Alastor…” Charlie’s hand landed gently on his forearm. She sat up, now eye-level with him, and gave him reassuring smile. “We can slow things down, if this is too much for you.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, clenching his fists as he willed his hands to stop trembling. “I’m not some jelly-boned toddler learning to walk for the first time. You don’t need to hold my hand through this.”

She took his hands nonetheless, carefully unfurling his fists and letting the flames fizzle off his palms. “It’s not that. I think it’s sweet that you’re nervous. I am too, you know. I just want your first time to be special.” She looked up at him, her golden eyes so pretty and earnest. “I want our first time to be special.”

Oh, Charlie. His sweet demon belle. How he hated that her words made his chest burn worse than any angelic wound ever could.

“Don’t call me sweet,” he grumbled halfheartedly.

“Fine.” Leaning in closer, her voice dropped low. “It’s hot. I think it’s fucking hot that I get to be your first. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Before she could pull away, he gripped her chin with his thumb and index finger, keeping her gaze locked with his. “You’ll be my only, darling. And if I have my way, I’ll be your last.”

Her lips curled in a smile. “That’s quite the commitment you’re making, Al.”

“Hmm. I suppose it is.”

They met in a heated kiss. He felt Charlie’s hands settle on his shoulders, fingers tucking under his suspenders as she gently slipped them down his arms.

“Let’s start here,” she murmured.

After unclipping them from his trousers, she tossed them on her bedside table and moved onto his bowtie, unraveling the knot with deft fingers before slinging it off his neck. His hands had been kneading into the meaty flesh of her thigh and he began tugging at the welts of her stockings. She leaned back, draping her legs across his lap, and gave a nod.

“Try not to tear anymore holes in them,” she teased, glancing at the long run he had already ripped down one of the legs.

His smile cracked into an unapologetic smirk. Taking her thigh between his hands, he slowly peeled down her stocking. Not an inch of her creamy skin was left untouched by his busy fingers, and when he had rolled it past her knee, he lifted her leg higher so he could plant a kiss on the exposed flesh. The second stocking came off much quicker and he tossed the pair of them haphazardly behind him.

She twisted in his lap so her back was to him and looked over her shoulder with beckoning eyes. He understood the wordless direction to unzip her dress. Her golden hair cascaded in waterfalls against her back and he combed his fingers indulgently through it as he brushed it out of the way. Despite the impatience that prodded and poked at his nerves, he wanted to savor this moment. He kissed the nape of her neck, then the space between her shoulder blades, then peppered a few more along her spine as he tugged down the zipper, encouraged by her soft hums of approval. The dress fell easy off her shoulders to gather around her waist. He helped her work her arms and head through it, then it too was discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.

As she shifted back to face him, his eyes immediately fell to her breasts. So soft and full, barely contained by her lacy pink brassiere. He noticed a tiny bow between the two cups and glanced down at the similar one sewn on her undergarments.

“They match,” Alastor mumbled to himself.

“What’s that?” Charlie asked.

“It’s nothing,” he quickly retracted. “Pink suits you, is all.” He slid his hands up the smooth plane of her stomach before cupping her breasts, mesmerized by how his fingertips sunk into the malleable flesh. As he squeezed and rolled them in his palms, her skin flushed pink, nearly the same shade as the dainty lingerie that covered them. Before he could get too carried away, she gently gripped his wrists and lowers his hands.

“There’s more of you I’d like to see too,” she said, reaching for the buttoned-up collar of his shirt. It came undone with a swift flick, along with the next one, and she lightly grazed her nails over his throat. He swallowed hard, feeling the pads of her fingertips pressed into the flexing muscles. Her palm spread out against his sternum and slowly worked down his chest, unfastening buttons as she went. He arched into her touch, each breath a wave of static. When she reached his navel, her fingers teased inside his pants to untuck his shirt. She undid the last few buttons, letting his shirt hang loose to fully expose his chest, then shucked it off his shoulders.

“Gosh Al, you’re so… pretty.” Her hands returned to his chest, grazing lightly along his collarbone and down the valley between his pectorals.

He fought the shiver that tingled up his spine. “Not a word I’d use to describe myself,” he replied. “Besides, you’ve seen me like this before.”

“I know.” She bit her lip as she continued her exploration. The slight swell of his chest muscles, the carved space of his ribcage, the sharp angle of his hip bones. Then she rested her hand against the jagged scar that split his chest like a fissure. “I wasn’t really looking those last times. You were sort of dying, you know.”

The princess turned her attention to his trousers next, unbuttoning them with much less difficulty than his attempts. When her fingers grazed over his erection, he bit back a whine, sinking his teeth so hard into his bottom lip that he tasted blood. While she worked the constraining fabric past his hips, he hastily kicked off his boots, then wriggled his trousers down to his ankles and flung them off as well.

Alastor looked down at himself, suddenly becoming very aware of his own immodesty. Goosebumps had settled permanently over his skin and the tent in his boxer shorts barely contained his twitching cock. It hit him like a runaway trolley, the reality that he and Charlie were down to their drawers and in her bed together.

“Not even my tailor’s seen this much of me,” he joked with a nervous laugh.

“I’d be a bit jealous if he had,” she retorted, fingers dancing along the waistband of his underwear. She palmed him over the fabric for a few moments before slipping her hand inside. He hissed as he felt it wrapped around his cock and start slowly stroking him from base to tip.

“C-Charlie…” he moaned, hips surging forward into her touch. It relieved just a fraction of the festering ache inside of him, and he moaned again as her grip tightened, encouraging him to thrust into the snug ring of her fist.

Her mouth found his neck, nibbling his skin as she sucked a wet path down to his chest. He felt her other hand slide down his back, over every brittle bump of his spine, and tuck inside his boxer shorts. She tugged them past his hips, then suddenly jerked back, pulling away from him.

“Holy shit, do you have a tail?!” Charlie gripped his waist and looked behind him at the aforementioned appendage, a fluffy bundle of red and black fur nestled above his backside.

“E-Err, yes?” he stammered, feeling like he had just been given the hook before the performance even began. “Sometimes.”

“What do you mean sometimes?”

“It’s a nuisance, mostly. Normally I just will it away with the rest of my more demonic attributes.” He glanced down at his erection, gritting his teeth as it pulsed painfully with need. “Obviously I’m a bit preoccupied right now. It must have manifested without my knowing.”

“It’s adorable!” she gushed, reaching around to stroke her fingers through it. “Why didn’t you ever mention having one?”

He squirmed, not from discomfort, but from how embarrassingly good it felt to be touched there. “Well, why in all hell would I? It’s not like I go around telling people what I’ve got tucked away in my trousers. Besides, you’re one to talk, darling. I don’t see you whipping around that devil tail of yours all willy-nilly. And don’t call me adorable. I hardly-”

So caught up in his rant, Alastor didn’t notice when she unhooked her bra and slung it off her shoulders. It landed with a soft thud on the bed, bringing his sentence to a screeching halt. A record scratched loudly in his brain as he stared at her bare breasts, wide-eyed and mouth gape.

They were pillowy curves of flesh, so perfectly plump and plush, gently jiggling with each of her exhales. Her nipples were the same rosy color as the circle on her cheeks, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to look at those markings the same way again.

“Golly! Those are lovely,” he blurted out.

She chuckled as she leaned forward, tempting him with all that delectably soft skin. “Are you gonna touch them or stare at them like a deer caught in headlights?”

“Very funny. Vox already made that joke, you know.”

“Well, it’s a pretty good one.”

“Hmph. Debatable.”

He took both breasts in his hands, humming lowly as he felt the full weight of them. The skin there was smooth as silk, except for the pebbled roughness of her nipples. He brushed the pad of his thumb over one of them, feeling it harden under his touch. She gave a sharp gasp in response as goosebumps erupted across her flesh, prickling against his palms. With another satisfied hum, he pinched her nipple and teased it between his thumb and forefinger. It stiffened into a tiny peak against the smooth hill of her breast. He rolled and squeezed these womanly parts of her between his hands, feeling her thrumming pulse, her blood coursing hot, her soft, bouncy flesh mold around his greedy fingers.

As he continued his ministrations, one hand slid down her stomach and between her legs. When he pressed his digits against her clothed sex, he let out a deep, staticky groan, finding her lacy pink panties utterly soaked through. With little politesse, his hand dove eagerly inside the fabric and between her folds. She was so wet, so warm, and the way she clenched needily around his fingers made him desperate to know what that would feel like around his cock.

“O-Oh… Alastor…” She whimpered as she grinded against his hand. Every drag of his nails and twist of his fingers plucked sharp sounds of pleasure out of her like pizzicato on a violin.

Alastor had only touched Charlie like this a handful of times, and although the shape of her was committed to his memory, he had yet to actually see this most intimate part of her. The hand on her breast joined the other at her waist and he hooked both thumbs into her undergarments. He had barely gotten them past her knees when she started tugging at his boxer shorts. It was a clumsy, hurried effort as they removed their last articles of clothing, and once everything had been strewn across the bedroom in forgotten piles, all that remained between them was physical space.

“Fuck, Charlie…” The radio demon’s voice was thick with static and thicker with arousal. “Look at all of you. You’re gorgeous.”

He was drunk with desire and threatening the bartender for another pour as he drank all of her in. Her loose hair tousled around her, the gentle sweep of her shoulders, her round and perky breasts, the soft curves of her belly and hips, those endlessly long legs, and between them, her pretty little pussy. It was crowned by a thatch of curly blonde hair, which he had enjoyed running his fingers through. Her plump folds were flushed pink, almost as pink as her insides, where her swollen clitoris peeked out. She was dripping with arousal, leaving streaks of wetness down her thighs. A surge of pride shot past his heart and right to his cock when he realized that he was the one who put her in such a state.

Charlie blushed, and he was delighted to see that all of her changed color. “So are you.”

Her eyes wandered below his waist, where his cock jutted up between them. The length of it was tacky with precum, his cockhead flushed a deep crimson as it drooled with his pent-up excitement. When she looked back up at him, her face suddenly scrunched in amusement. She reached for his monocle and gently plucked it away from his brow. He gave her a sheepish grin, having completely forgotten it was even there.

After placing the lenses on her nightstand, the princess turned back towards him. They held each other’s gaze, silence falling between them as the simmering tension that had been building all night finally came to a boil.

Alastor was never without a course of action. Whether from carefully laid out plans or his keen ability to improvise, he always had some charming words or magical finger snap for any situation. But right now, he was at a total loss, trapped in a paralyzing limbo between desire and fear, confidence and vulnerability, eagerness and inexperience.

As if sensing his hesitation, Charlie cupped his face, stroking her thumb affectionately along his hollowed cheeks. She pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss before resting a hand against his chest. With a gentle push, she guided him to lie back on the bed. He understood her intentions and settled against the pillows, heart pounding as he watched her crawl towards him and straddle his hips. She took his hands and placed them on her waist. Between their bodies, the tip of his erection was merely a few inches from the dripping folds of her pussy. Her fingers wrapped around his length and her eyes rose to meet his, silently asking one final time if he was sure. Eyes locked with hers, he gave a confident nod.

Guiding his cock with her hand, she sank down slowly on him. The brush of her folds against his tip was enough to send an intense shiver wracking through him, and when he felt his cockhead push into her entrance, his entire body convulsed.

“F-Fuck, Charlie!” Her name tore itself out of his throat in a ragged growl.

Further and further he sank into her tight heat, her inner walls squeezing tightly around him. She panted as she took all of him in, legs trembling on either side of his hips as she kept her balance. Then her weight settled against him and they both moaned as he was fully sheathed inside her.

Blood dripped from Alastor’s claws as he held the princess’s waist in a death grip. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, and it felt like if he moved at all, if he so much as breathed, he was going to cum. Each inhale felt like a static shock to his lungs and his lips were curled against his blackened gums in a strained grimace.

Charlie took a few deep breaths as she relaxed on top of him. She shifted her hips to get more comfortable and he hissed, sinking his nails even deeper into her thighs.

“Al?” she asked, just as breathless as he was. “How do you feel?”

“It’s…” His voice cracked as he tried to speak. “I-It’s very snug.”

Her insides were fluttering around his length and he groaned as she leaned forward to brace her hands on the mattress. “I’m gonna start moving, if that’s okay?”

All he could muster in response was a nod. He watched as she rose up on her knees, her pussy pulling away from his cock until just the tip was inside her. Then she sank back down and all of him disappeared between her folds. Tension wrinkled her brow as she lifted herself up and down again, her hands twisted in the bedsheets on either side of him. Slowly she began to fuck herself on his cock, whimpering as her muscles stretched and contracted around his length.

Alastor was well-versed in what he considered his most indulgent pleasures. A smooth glass of bourbon, a fresh chunk of meat still on the bone of his screaming victim, a bubbly hoof soak after a long day. But this? It was an incomparable pleasure. Better than the pride and joy of his first radio broadcast. Better than the thrill of his first kill. Better than the rush of power he felt when he first manifested in hell.

He thought himself doomed to an existence where he drank from a leaky cup, never full, always empty before his thirst was quenched. Never has that cup overflown, and right now he was sputtering and gasping for air as he drowned in it. It was all too much, the wet hot bliss of her womanhood, the languid sway of her naked body on top of his, the demure sighs of his name. And worst of all, the way she was looking at him. Dewey eyelashes over half-lidded eyes, warm like golden honey, filled with tender affection and unwavering trust. Affection he was unworthy of, trust that was so profoundly misplaced.

He didn’t deserve to feel this good. He didn’t deserve to have Charlie be the one to make him feel this good. That ever-present voice in the back of his mind whispered these doubts, louder and louder until they were a cacophonous clamor overwhelming all other thoughts. He was a despicable man who reveled in his monstrous reputation. Power, pain, punishment, these had been his delightful pursuits. Is that not what brought him to this hotel in the first place? To charm his way into the princess’s heart so he could manipulate her for his own means? He could try to convince himself that he cared about her, that she was the one exception to all his cruelty and selfishness, that he was genuine in his desire to see the hotel succeed because he wanted to see her succeed, but that voice in his head, the one that wasn’t his, never stopped reminding him of what his true intentions had been.

Alastor thrashed his head from side to side, banishing the whispers to the recesses of his mind. Static buzzed under his skin and he felt like a rifle packed too tightly with gunpowder, threatening to self-destruct and destroy both him and Charlie in the explosion. Tendrils erupted from his back, drippy and half-formed as they writhed uncontrollably beneath him. The same ichor oozed from between his tightly clenched teeth, leaving streaks of black stains down his chin and throat. His antlers burned and itched as their twisted branches crowned his head. He was a prisoner to his own powers, every tormented thought twisting together in the shriek-like feedback that broadcasted from deep inside him.

Then suddenly, he felt Charlie’s hand on his chest. Her fingers splayed out as she slotted them into the marks she had left the night he nearly succumbed to his angelic wound. It felt like a lifetime ago, like that was a different Alastor. Like that holy infection had actually killed him and her magic had imbued a new life inside of him. Or maybe she had imbedded a part of herself in him, and just like the angelic wound, it had festered in him, little by little, until nothing of the original Alastor was left.

Her palm pressed gently against his heart, its erratic rhythm beating frantically through his skin and bone. She held his gaze, not saying anything, but she didn’t need to. He could feel his heartbeat slow, the static under his skin settle, the squirming tendrils underneath him recede. The lights stopped flickering, the shadows retreated to their forgotten corners. The indiscernible feedback emanating from inside him attuned itself to a signal channel, a low soothing hum that pulsed in time with both their heartbeats.

He laced his fingers through hers and held her hand firmly against his chest. His mind stilled, focusing on nothing but her, the squeeze of her pussy around his cock, the bounce of her breasts in tandem with her movements, the smell of sex and sweat on her skin, the quiet moans she made each time their hips met and he was fully sheathed inside her.

“Charlie…” Alastor breathed. “My darling…” His voice lilted up with the intention of saying more, but words failed him.

“I know,” she returned. “Me too.”

He didn’t even know what he was going to say to her, nor did he know what she was responding to. Nevertheless, he knew she understood him.

She was the only person who ever has.

The paralyzing spell that held the radio demon finally broke and he surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. His hips rose off the bed as he thrusted into her, hitting a spot so deep inside her that they both cried out in pleasure.

“O-Oh fuck, Alastor!” the princess moaned. Her nails scratched red ribbons into his shoulders as she grinded down hard on him. He met her enthusiasm, hips smacking against hers as he pumped and pistoned his cock inside her.

It was a mesmerizing sight, the red, veiny length of him disappearing all the way inside her blushed pink pussy, then reappearing a second later, only to be sucked back into her welcoming heat. As they found a rhythm together, their pants and moans were accompanied by the lewd percussion of cracking bed slats and slapping skin.

She was so perfectly snug around his cock, like she was molded just for him. Anyone who came before him, all her former flings and lovers, none of them mattered. It was him, only him, who was ever meant to belong here.

“Darling,” he murmured in the minute gap between their kisses. “You feel so good.” His lips barely left hers as he spoke. “Absolute fucking bliss.”

“I-I’ve wanted this for so long,” she confessed in a breathless whisper.

The sentiment made more than just his heart throb. “So have I.”

He dragged his teeth down her neck, sucking the tender flesh into his mouth and biting hard until he felt it give away. The heady sweetness of her blood teased his tongue, and if the vulgar noise that left her mouth wasn’t evidence enough of her approval, her pussy clenching desperately around him was. He nibbled a path past her collarbone and down to her breasts, where he pressed his lips against the soft, spongey skin. He licked teasingly at her nipple, circling it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth.

Charlie arched forward with a loud keen of his name, driving her hips against his and pushing her breast even deeper into his mouth. He let out a lecherous groan of delight. The taste of flesh was not unknown to him, but this was entirely different. Supple, smooth, and deliciously sweet. He wanted to sink his teeth into it, not to devour, but to savor. Closing his lips around her nipple, he sucked hard as his tongue flitted frantically against the stiffened nub. His mouth was a wet, eager mess on her breast, and when he was sure that every inch of it was properly attended to, he kissed his way to the other one and gave it the same treatment.

His hand raked down her back and over the swell of her ass, gripping the meaty flesh as she continued to ride his cock. Suddenly, something coiled tightly around his forearm. He spared a glance to see it was her devil tail, which had curled itself up his arm, the heart-shaped tip quivering in excitement. He gave it a gentle tug. She cried out in ecstasy, throwing her head back as her sclera turned crimson.

He gripped the base of her neck and lolled her head forward, fingers tangling in her loose curls, eager to see her surrender to the pleasure. She was beautiful, her blood red eyes burning with passion, her sharpened incisors peeking out from her plush black lips, her horns like polished daggers atop her head. It wasn’t just her demonic features that he found so attractive. Her beauty struck him in all forms, whether she was buttoned up and professional for their hotel guests, or untucked and frazzled after a late-night planning session, or elegant and enticing in a flowy dress with a low-cut neckline. No one but her made the blood that flowed in his cold, dead veins burn hotter than hellfire.

She took his face in her hands as they stared into each other’s eyes, bodies rocking in rhythm as they found their bliss together. Every moan, every soft whine of his name, every gasp of “yes” and “more” shot straight to his cock, throbbing and ready to burst as he pounded into her with a relentless pace. His body was tense and aching for its release. He could sense she was close too, from the way her insides pulsed and quivered needily around him. Unable to hold on any longer, he buried his face between her breasts, arms wrapping around her in a snug embrace.

“C-Charlie…” he choked. “I’m… I’m about to…”

“M-Me too…” She hugged him close, one hand clutching fistfuls of his hair while the other gripped tightly to an antler. “Let go,” she whimpered pleadingly. “Please… please, babe… give me everything.”

Her permission was all he needed. Alastor gave a desperate and relieving groan as he emptied himself inside her, spurt after spurt of cum that filled every crevice his cock didn’t, until it was squelching and leaking out of her as he fucked her through his climax. Charlie followed him over the edge a moment later, more wetness gushing from her as her pussy squeezed him so tight, his vision went spotty with the threat of unconsciousness. His vocal chords might never recover from how loudly he screeched her name and she responded with equal fervor as they called to each other over the drowning waves of pleasure.

As he crashed down from his high, he heard the violent sound of cracking bones. Panic rushed through him as he realized his antlers had sprouted uncontrollably, becoming so heavy that he couldn’t lift his head away from the princess’s chest. He refused to open his eyes, fearful that he had gored her on their deadly gnarled prongs in some gruesome display of desire.

When he finally dared a peek, he was relieved to see that he had not impaled her. In fact, his antlers had curled themselves around her, cradling her naked form like a set of spindly fingers. Her hair had tangled and snagged on them and hung loosely from their pointed ends. It was like they were sat together under a weeping willow, dark twisted branches and long strings of golden leaves, draping over them in a protective canopy, a private space only they would share.

He gave a labored grunt as he pulled back from her, neck straining from the weight. She braced his neck with her hands to help support his head, smiling despite the slight wrinkle of concern in her brow. “Are you okay, Al?”

The radio demon laughed as he affectionately pressed his forehead against hers. “Never better.”

They held each other in an intimate embrace as her pussy still fluttered gently around his softening cock. Only when his antlers started receding did they bother to detangle her hair from its prongs. As she lifted herself off of him, his eyes widened when he saw the aftermath of their recent activity ooze out between her legs and dribble down her thighs. He scanned up her form, seeing his ravenous path of bites, blood, and ichor smeared along her pearly white skin in a timeline of his affection.

“Oh darling, I’ve made a pretty mess of you, haven’t I?”

Charlie chuckled as she ran her fingers through his bangs, unsticking the damp clumps of hair from his sweaty forehead. “So how was it? Your first time, I mean?”

“Quite a gas! Well worth the century and a half long abstinence.” He settled back against the bed with a satisfied grin. “And for you, my dearest?”

She curled up next to him, resting her head against his shoulder as she snuggled against his bare chest. “It was perfect.”

Alastor gave a content hum as he wrapped his arms around her. “Did I hear you call me babe early?” he teased.

“S-Sorry,” she stammered, voice squeaking with embarassment. “I kinda got caught up in the moment.”

“I didn’t mind it. Far less offensive than some of the other things I get called down here. You don’t go around this town making dealing without getting a few unsavory nicknames.”

“Like what?”

“Deer-pellet-shit-for-brains-clown-ass-mullet-tapdancing-twinkle-toed-motherfucker was a recent one.” He chuckled to himself. “Old Husker has quite the colorful vocabulary when he’s sober.”

She rolled her eyes, snorting in amusement. “You know, you and I still have that deal. Any clue what you’re gonna use the favor for?”

“Ah!” The question caught him completely off guard. “I, err, haven’t decided yet.”

That was a lie.

She smiled at him and shrugged, seemingly satisfied with that answer, and laid her head back down on his shoulder.

“Does it bother you?” he asked after a moment. “That I’ve yet to cash in on the deal we made?”

“Not really. I trust you’ll use it for something important. Besides, you don’t need to make a deal with me to ask for a favor.” She looked up at him with those warm, affectionate, trusting eyes of hers. “I’d do anything for you, Alastor.”

Those same feelings blazed hot in his chest. “Truly?”

She nodded, cupped his cheek before kissing him softly on the lips. “Anything.”

As Alastor laid there with the princess in his arms, skin to skin, every intimate part of them pressed together, it felt like the damper on his emotions had been wrenched close, snuffing them out in a smothering swell of guilt.

He was done with the lies, the half-truths, the secrets. All the deflections and distractions. The times he completely avoided the subject whenever she got a little too curious about what he was up to before coming to the hotel. If he and Charlie were to have any kind of future together, he needed to be wholly and completely honest with her.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake he did with his mother, thinking he could pull the wool over her eyes, lying so frequently that she stopped believing anything he said was truthful, pushing her further and further away because that was easier than coming clean about what he’s done, then losing her completely and living the rest of his existence with the regret of never being honest with her. It was too late for him to make things right with his mother, but he still had a chance with Charlie.

She deserved the truth, even if it broke her heart, even if she banished him from the hotel and never wanted to see him again. He was a patient fella. He’d spent the rest of eternity winning her back if he had to. She did believe in second chances, after all. And sure, he was already on his fifth or sixth by now, but what’s one more?

Tomorrow, he would tell her the truth. About everything.

Chapter Text

Alastor’s ears flicked as he gently stirred awake. Two nights in a row of sound slumber might be a new record for him. Sleep was mostly an indulgence, a way to ease the stress of his mind and body, in the same way a spiced cigar or warm glass of bourbon did. His hellish form was a haphazard amalgamation of leftover human traits, demonic features, and very inaccurate animal biology, which made it so he could perpetually teeter on the brink of sleep-deprived delirium. He could go days, sometimes weeks without sleep. Even then, he mostly enjoyed a quick cat nap in his armchair with his feet propped up on his radio console, or a light snooze on Charlie’s shoulder when his eyes grew tired from looking over her lesson plans, or a loud snore session when the hotel movie night ran longer than expected.

In recent months, however, a heavy fatigue had settled in his bones. At first, he had chalked it up to his weakened state after sustaining his angelic wound. He had nearly died, twice in fact, and the toll that had taken on his body had tempered his powers in ways he was still grappling with. But that weariness had crept into his soul as well, a perpetual exhaustion that no amount of sleep could reprieve.

Unless he had Charlie beside him.

He could still remember the first time, when his consciousness was slipped halfway into oblivion. Something warm and familiar had anchored to his heart, the only tether keeping him from sinking into that dark abyss and disappearing forever. He had awoken in her bed, panicked and disoriented, with his chest split open, his limbs like limp noodles, and his powers gone. Yet despite the pain and fear, her presence was the first thing he sensed. A scent woven into the plush pillows and blankets he laid on, comforting and sweet against the stench of his blood and sweat that had soaked through them. And when he opened his eyes to see that she had sat vigil by his bedside, he wondered if something more than just her magic had saved him.

He never would have imagined that night would lead him to where he was now, his consciousness once again drifting amid two states, though this time between sweet dreams of her and the even sweeter reality of her lying beside him. The warmth of her surrounded him, quite literally, as he was nestled in her embrace, her breasts a comfy pillow beneath his head, with his limbs tucked and tangled with hers.

His ears twitched again as goosebumps prickled pleasantly down his neck and past the collar of his flannel pajamas. Gentle fingers slid through the tufts of fur, scratching lightly from their black tips down to his scalp.

“Mmm… r’you petting me?” Alastor murmured drowsily.

The hand froze. “Sorry,” Charlie whispered, softly as if she didn’t want to fully rouse him from sleep.

“Didn’t say stop.” He nuzzled against her chest, mumbling the words lazily. “Feels good.”

She chuckled lightly, a delicate vibration that tickled against his face. Her hand resumed its petting, smooth strokes down his ears and through the knotted strands of his hair, untangling them with her fingers. With a low hum of contentment, he allowed himself a few more minutes of her bedded ministrations before finally lifting his head and opening his eyes. He rose up on his elbows, bracketing the princess between his arms. She met him with a sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

“Good morning,” he returned, leaning forward to kiss her. Her lips tasted like whiskey. Remembering that she had opted for a different type of booze last night, he smirked, realizing it was the lingering taste of himself on her.

She yawned, causing her tiny fangs to peek out from her lips. It made the bruises on his neck give a pleasant pang of remembrance. His own enthusiasm was still painted along her pretty skin, rosy red marks scattered like flower petals along a trail that only he had traversed. Her pajama top hung loosely off one shoulder and he brushed his thumb against her exposed skin, contemplating if he wanted to tug it down further or pull it back in place. He decided to leave it, instead running his hand up the slope of her neck and tucking her loose hair behind her ear. She responded with a happy sigh and settled back against the pillows.

“You look quite cute like this,” Alastor murmured. “All tousled and sleepy and not at all put together. What a treat to wake up to in the morning.”

Charlie linked her arms around his neck and kissed him again. “We could wake up like this every morning, you know. If you wanted to stay here with me, like in a more permanent fashion.” She nervously bit her lip. “I… I want you to.”

His grin widened. “My, my! We have one passionate night together and already you’re asking me to move in with you?”

She scrunched her nose and playfully whacked her hand against his chest. “We already live together, you dork. This would just make things… more official!”

“It’s a tempting proposition,” he mused. “Though a risky one. What about your father?”

“He knows better than to barge in here without knocking.” She paused, tossing her head from side to side. “Well, most of the time.”

The radio demon tapped his chin. “I suppose I could string up some tin cans outside your door as an alarm system. And if he tries to come inside without us knowing, he’ll get tangled in them and start strangling himself. And while he chokes to death, that’ll give me plenty of time to skedaddle!”

She rolled her eyes. “Or, you know, we could just keep the door locked.”

With a chuckle, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her into his lap. “We certainly wouldn’t want him to see all the debauched and devilish things we’ll get up to in here,” he flirted, leaning in for another kiss.

She pressed a finger to his lips and kissed him on the nose instead. “Nor do we want him or anyone else getting suspicious if we’re both late for breakfast this morning.”

While Charlie hopped off to go primp and preen herself in the ensuite bathroom, Alastor rose slowly from the bed with a labored groan, feeling a delicious ache in his muscles from their activities the night before. It wasn’t the tightness in his calves or throbbing in his hooves from an evening of dancing. These were muscles he’s never really used before. A twinge in his lower back, a soreness in his hips, a slight chafing between his legs. With another groan, he stretched out his long limbs, enjoying how the ligaments strained in protest. He chuckled to himself. Maybe he should start stretching more. With this rigorous new exercise routine, he’ll need to stay limber.

He was in the middle of dressing when the princess reappeared. Hair tucked neatly into its braid, face powdered to perfection, red suit neatly pressed, all evidence of their late-night boot knocking was properly concealed beneath her modest attire. Just as he slipped his arms into his shirt sleeves, she approached him and took the two sides between her hands. He gave no protest, allowing her to button it up, knowing it was more of an affectionate gesture rather than her fussing over him.

When she reached his chest, she paused. Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric to touch his angelic wound, gently grazing the gnarled, discolored skin that he knew would take longer than an eternity to fade. Every time she touched him here, he’d see her brow knit slightly as guilt, grief, or some other emotion he wished she didn’t feel dimmed the light in her eyes. This scar was a mark of his own foolishness and pride. A reminder that his powers were not limitless and there would always be someone stronger than him who could crush him beneath their heel. But despite this, seeing his scar filled him with an emotion much stronger than shame or bitterness. Deep in his chest, deeper than how far that angelic wound had reached, something burned fiercely.

“The night you saved me, that’s when this started for me, you know,” he told her.

“What did?” she asked.

“This utter madness I have for you.”

She gave a soft laugh as she continued buttoning his shirt. “Madness is a funny word for it.”

He cocked his head, smile curled knowingly to one side. “What would you call it then?”

Her eyes flitted up slowly to meet his. “Something else.”

They held each other’s gaze as her fingers lingered on the last button of his shirt. There was a charged stillness in the air, of realizations and unspoken words. A shared truth waiting to be voiced, hanging suspending in the space between them.

The resolution Alastor gave himself the night before came billowing into his mind like a winter wind down a chimney flue, extinguishing the warmth inside him into a cold, brittle ache. He removed her hands from his chest and held them in his.

“Charlie,” he began. “There’s something I must tell you.”

She smiled encouragingly at him. “What is it?”

“Admittedly, it’s something I should have told you quite some time ago. And I regret that it’s taken me so long to do so.”

“Yeah?” She leaned forward, voice rising in anticipation.

He worked his jaw for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Our relationship has developed in a way I was not expecting when I first came to the hotel. As I’m sure neither were you, when you agreed to employ my services.”

She chuckled. “Definitely not.”

“My time here with you has been quite enjoyable. Perhaps one of the happiest times in this life or the one before.”

“Oh, Al.” She squeezed his hands. “I feel the same way.”

“And while I find the work we do here to be silly and a bit cumbersome at times, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than this.”

Affection crinkled her eyes. “There’s no one I’d rather be doing this with than you. Even if you complain about it half the time.”

His hands were shaking and he felt her give them another reassuring squeeze. “Which is why, Charlie, I must confess that I-”

He blinked, confused as to why the words he wanted to articulate failed to leave his mouth.

“Confess what?” she asked, her eyes wide with expectancy.

“That I-”

It happened again, this time with an audible record scratch, like someone had abruptly yanked the needle off a record player. Brow furrowing, he tried once more.

“What I’m trying to telling you is the reason I-”

Bile suddenly erupted up from Alastor’s throat, drowning him from the inside as it surged against the sealed stitches of his mouth. The magical thread burned against his lips as it felt like someone was pulling it impossibly tight. He frantically worked his jaw against the constraints, blood and ichor seeping out between his teeth as he ripped them apart wide enough to let the wave of black sludge pour out.

“G-Gurrgghhaaa!” He coughed and sputtered as the unspoken words turned to poison in his mouth. Shrill laughter pierced his ears as he desperately tore at his bound lips. He felt like a horseless rider on a runaway carousel as the room began spinning rapidly around him, causing him to stumble backwards until he hit the edge of Charlie’s desk.

“Holy shit!” Charlie dashed forward to catch him before he toppled over the desk. “Are you okay, Alastor?”

He could barely hear her over the callous cackling in his head. His vision blurred into a crimson haze as blood and ichor seeped from his eyes. He continued retching as the same substance stung in his nose and dripped out his ear drums. Everything around him was red, as if the walls themselves were bleeding. There were eyes, hundreds and hundreds of leering eyes, their glares burning into him as the presence in his mind that wasn’t his own became so overwhelming, it felt like it would burst through his skull and take form. He shoved away from the princess, fearing she would be a causality in this punishment he was receiving.

“What’s wrong?!” he distantly heard her shout through the screeching in his ears.

“C-Char… lie… it’s…” He couldn’t ask for help, he couldn’t warn her to get away, he could barely speak at all. Just as he was able to rip his stitches wide enough to stop himself from choking on the poisonous bile, a searing pain burst in his chest. He scratched wildly at his angelic wound, feeling like the hot pain of infection was once against taking hold of him. As he doubled over in agony, his vision vignetting with the threat of unconsciousness.

He looked up at Charlie, who was mortified at whatever was happening to him. Behind her, his shadow stretched long on the wall. Its smile was gone, mouth tugged down in a sharp frown. But it didn’t look angry with him, it looked terrified. As the laughter in his head grew even louder, it cowered behind Charlie, frantically shaking its head in disapproval of what Alastor had just tried to do.

“I-I… I w-won’t!” he choked out, falling to his knees in submission. “I won’t!”

Then just as suddenly as it started, the unbearable torture ended. The stitches on his mouth loosened and he was able to cough up the last bit of black sludge that bubbled up his throat. His angelic wound stopped burning and the only pain in his chest were the fresh scratch marks he had just left there himself. With a pop like a blown-out speaker, the laughter in his head was silenced.

“Won’t what?” Charlie dropped next to him, not caring as she kneeled in the inky black substance that covered the floor. She cradled his face in her hands and wiped at the mess with the back of her jacket sleeve. “Alastor, what the fuck just happened? Are you okay? Are you sick?”

He could still sense all those eyes on him and looked frantically around the room, paranoia skittering up his spine like a bug. Charlie followed his gaze, and looking even more concerned, placed the back of her hand against his forehead to check his temperature. He spotted his shadow lurking in the corner, peeking at him from behind a potted plant, hollow eyes round with worry. It shook its head again.

 “Sick…” the radio demon repeated weakly. “Yes, I am feeling a bit green around the gills. Perhaps those crawdaddies we ate last night weren’t as fresh as I thought.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile and continued wiping the grime off his face. “The fish markets in Envy don’t sound so bad now, huh?” Standing up, she gingerly helped him to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up. Then I can talk to Laurel and Leonard and see if they have anything from the Cannibal Town apothecary that can settle your stomach.”

“There’s no need for that,” he replied. “I’ve got some potent potables up in my radio tower that will do the trick. Think I’ll just pop up there, away from all the noise and hub-bub, and take it easy today. If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course. Let me come with you, just in case the nausea hits you again.”

“I’ll be alright. And you should really go down and show face at breakfast. As you said, folks will be suspicious if both of us are missing this morning.”

She frowned. “Alright, but I’m coming up to check on you as soon as breakfast is over.”

“I’ll be fine, darling. Just need a good whiff of some rubbing alcohol and to take a few aspirin for this headache, then I’ll be right as rain.” Alastor looked around the room, at the floor, the walls, her desk and bed, all of it covered in black sludge. Turned back to Charlie, he saw that her clothes were as soiled as his were. He gave a nervous laugh. “And I, err, do apologize for the mess. Nothing a little borax and elbow grease can’t fix!”

It was a quiet morning in the hotel kitchen and Charlie was relieved to have made it down to breakfast with a few minutes to spare, after taking a while to scrub off that mysterious black substance that Alastor had chucked up. The hotel residents were sleepily sipping their coffees while Niffty struggled to stir a pot of porridge bigger than she was. She took a seat next to Angel Dust, who had been eyeing her up since she entered the room.

She gave him a funny look. “What is it?”

“You look different. Did you get a new haircut or something?”

She ran a hand over her braid. “No, same hair I had yesterday.”

“New bra?”

She folded her arms protectively over her chest. “No!”

He shrugged as he took a bite of porridge. “Well, whatever it is, it’s working for ya.”

“Err, thanks, Angel.”

As Charlie spooned at the mushy slop in her bowl, she saw Bull enter the kitchen with something slung over his shoulder. It was a dark red jacket, but looked way too small to be his.

“Pleasant morning to y’all!” he greeted with that polite drawl of his. He held up the item of clothing. “Anyone feeling a bit chilly? Found this lying out in the hallway. Right near your room, Miss Charlie. Looks like a gentleman’s coat so I figured it can’t be yours.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. That was Alastor’s tuxedo jacket. She remembered giving it back to him last night, but then they had gotten… distracted… and she didn’t know what happened to it after that. He must have accidentally left it out in the hallway.

“Umm… nope! Not mine! Never see that jacket before in my life!” She hastily reached for it. “Thanks for finding it, though! I’ll save you the trouble and put in the hotel lost and-”

“That’s Alastor’s!” Niffty interjected, scurrying up Bull’s arm to inspect it. She frowned as she ran her hands over the fabric. “How did it get so wrinkly?” Sniffing it, her large eye narrowed in suspicion. She grabbed the lapel of Charlie’s jacket and yanked her forward, taking a whiff of her as well. “And why does it smell like you, Charlie?”

“Uhh…” Charlie could feel everyone’s eyes on her as her mind completely blanked.

“You two were rehearsing for that, ah, roleplay shit we’re doing later this week, right?” Angel jumped to her rescue. “Smiley asked me if he could borrow one of my cocktail dresses, though he really doesn’t have the figure to pull that look off.”

“Yes!” Charlie quickly agreed. “It’s for a skit! Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.” She waved her hand in the air, presenting the imaginary marquee. “Alastor lent me one of his fancy coats for it. And you know how sweaty my pits get when I’m performing. So I wanted to… err… wash it.” On-the-fly lying was not her strong suit. “It must have fallen out of my hamper when I was doing laundry last night.”

Niffty tapped her chin. “Ohhh. That explains why I heard giggling coming from the laundry room so late.”

“Wait, are we supposed to be doing our own laundry?” The kitchen door creaked open and Charlie looked up to see her father standing in the doorway. “I’ve been putting bags of dirty clothes outside my door for months now. Where has it all been going?!”

She jumped up from her seat. “You know what this porridge needs? Some fresh strawberries! We have some growing out in the garden, don’t we? I’ll go grab some!” Yanking the jacket out of Bull’s hands, she whizzed past her father and dashed out of the kitchen before anyone could further deduce what she and the radio demon had really been up to that previous evening.

After hiding among the tomato plants for most of the morning, the princess returned to the now empty kitchen and gathered some things to bring up to Alastor. Seeing that the fridge was out of ice, she headed to the bar to grab some. Angel Dust was there keeping Husk company and they both waved to her as she came over.

“Thanks for covering for me earlier,” she said sheepishly to Angel as she sat down next to him.

“Anytime,” he replied. He watched her with a smug grin as she handed the ice bucket to Husk. “I knew there was something different about you this morning. Couldn’t put my finger on what but I think I figured it out.” He scooted closer. “You and Alastor finally did the dirty, didn’t you?”

“Angel!” Charlie exclaimed, nearly falling off the stool. Behind the bar, Husk groaned.

“I mean, you’re positively glowing, Charlie! Was the sex that good? I knew that old chucklefucker had it in him.” He chuckled. “Well, he had it in you, from the looks of it. You’re walking a little funny today.”

“My hooves are just a bit sore. We went out dancing last night and… and…” She stumbled over her words, blushing furiously and not denying his claim.

“It does explain why the power kept flickering last night. Is that a normal thing for him? Like every time he blows a load, he also blows out the breaker box? Good to know if the electricity’s acting funny, that means smiley is getting his rocks off somewhere.”

“I… I don’t think… it’s every time…” she stammered.

“What a terrible day to have ears,” Husk muttered, looking down at the icepick in his hand. He brought it up to his eardrum, then shaking his head, slowly lowered it.

Angel placed all four of his hands under his chin, wriggling with excitement like a tween girl at her first sleepover. “Tell me all about it!”

“Please don’t,” the bartender begged.

Angel waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t listen to him. I wanna hear everything! From foreplay to fornication, penetration to pull out, osculation to orgasm! Don’t spare me any details.”

Charlie squeaked in embarrassment. “I am NOT going to do that!”

“Fine, fine. We’ll just use our imagination. Won’t we, Husk?”

“This really is hell,” Husk muttered under his breath as he violently stabbed his icepick into the block of ice.

“Well, you seem happy, toots. So I’m happy for ya. Sounds like Alastor showed you a real good time.” Angel looked around the lobby. “Where is he, anyways? Did you ride him so hard, it broke his dick?” He nodded towards the ice bucket. “Is that what the ice is for?”

“N-No, nothing like that,” she replied. “He’s not feeling well, so he’s taking a sick day.”

“Do we get those?” Husk wondered aloud.

“What happened?” Angel asked.

“The night we spent together was…” She trailed off, putting her hand to her cheek to conceal her smile. “Amazing. Everything I hoped it would be. And when we woke up in the morning, there was this moment where I thought he was going to tell me that he loves me.” Her expression soured. “But then he freaked out and started barfing all over my room.”

“Yeesh!” Angel winced. “Talk about being lovesick.”

“It was probably just food poisoning,” she assured herself. “Besides, it’s way too soon for that, right? We’ve been taking things pretty slow and I don’t want to rush something like that. But then again, Vaggie and I said I love you after just a month. And my parents said it to each other the day they met, and they were together for thousands of years!” She sighed and propped her elbow on the bar counter, resting her head in her hand. “Alastor is so hard to figure out sometimes. One minute he’s sweeping me off my feet with some grand romantic gesture and the next he’s dropping me on my ass and running off to hide in his radio tower.”

Husk set down his icepick. “Charlie,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. “I don’t know how else to put this, but I think you should lower your expectations with Alastor.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve known the guy a long time. He does care about you, in his own twisted way. But you can’t expect him to feel something he’s not capable of feeling.”

“I think what Husk is trying to say is that you two got a good thing going on now!” Angel cut in, trying to sound supportive. “Why ruin it with complicated feelings, scary commitments, and all that crap? Some relationships are best kept casual.”

Charlie didn’t think her relationship with the radio demon has ever been casual. Not from their intimate moment last night, nor the first time they kissed, nor when he laid dying in her bed, not even when he had first arrived at the hotel and she had slammed the door in his face. He had inserted himself into her life so insistently, so intensely, burrowing so deep under her skin that to root him out would be to remove a part of herself as well. Nothing about that was casual.

“I appreciate your concern, Husk, but you’re wrong about Alastor. You don’t know him like I do. You haven’t seen the side of him that I’ve seen. I know what he is. I know what he’s capable of. But there’s good in him too and I wish more people would realize it.” She slid off her stool and grabbed the ice bucket. “Thanks for the ice. I’ll see you guys later.”

As she rounded the corner to the stairs, the pair of men exchanged concerned looks.

“You think she’ll be alright?” Angel asked. “When the honeymoon ends and it all blows up in her face?”

“Charlie always bounces back. She’ll be fine.” Husk’s eyes darkened with concern. “It’s Alastor I’m worried about.”

Alastor sucked deep from the cigarette in his mouth and blew a puff cloud in front of himself. It clung to his visage like a veil as he walked through it, unbothered by the smoke stinging his eyes. A thick smog filled his radio tower as he paced across the creaky floorboards, like a steamboat churning against a relentless current.

Of course the one time he wanted to be honest, to do the right thing, to hold himself accountable for his bad decisions, he couldn’t. That wasn’t who he was. That wasn’t part of his deal.

He stopped in front of the unlit fireplace and held out his palm, summoning a ball of fire. Resentment narrowed his eyes as he stared into the eerie green flames. It was blazing hot against his fingers. Destructive, all-consuming, yet so easily snuffed out, just like his powers.

For the longest time, he considered his freedom a small price to pay for the carnage and destruction he could wreak with the powers he’d been granted. The stipulations of his soul contract had been easy to uphold. Most of the time he was free to exert his powers however he wished, so long as he left chaos in his wake. There were a few occasions he was given specific tasks, toppling a few overlord’s empires, decimating a neighborhood or two, that sort of thing. Nothing he couldn’t handle and most of which he enjoyed doing. He had convinced himself that he was still the master of his own will. A dog on a long enough leash thinks it has free range of the entire yard, ignorant of its illusion of freedom. But no matter how long that leash, it can still be pulled taut until the dog heels into obedience.

And now, as Alastor continued to ignore the command he had been given, the reason he was sent to the hotel, he could feel the chain tightening around his neck and his run of the yard shrinking. Soon, his only options would be to obey or strangle himself against the constraints.

His shadow slinked along the fireplace, sending a sudden gust of wind that extinguished the flame in his hand. He clenched his fist, the green smoke fizzling from between his fingers. With silent disapproval, his ghostly doppelgänger glowered at him.

“I don’t hear you coming up with any suggestions,” he grumbled at it. “Surely there’s something I can do. Some kind of loophole to get out of this. To renegotiate the terms of my contract.”

His shadow skittered up to the alligator skull hanging on the wall and rested its head in its skeletal maw, shutting its eyes as it writhed back and forth in mock pain.

“I know what’s at stake,” Alastor snapped, taking another drag from his cigarette. “I could lose a whole lot more than just my powers.” He paused, voice faltering. “Like her.”

It shook its head, expression caught somewhere between frustration and pity.

“I don’t care if that’s the reason I made a deal with Charlie. I’m not getting her involved with this.”

Cigarette between two fingers, he combed the other three through his hair, not caring as the ash sprinkled on his head. As he continued his pacing, his shadow sank down to the floor, tugging him back by his boots.

The radio demon threw his hands up in frustration. “I don’t even know if she can help me! That was always a crapshoot. Not even her father has the authority to break a soul contract.”

The lights in the radio tower dimmed, and in the reflection of the window, he could see his shadow stretching tall behind him, antlers growing to fill the room. He spun on his heels to face it.

“No,” he stated firmly. “I dug this grave and now I shall lie in it. I won’t drag Charlie down with me. If I can’t be honest with her, the least I can do is absolve her of any involvement in this. I’m freeing her from our deal.”

There was a sudden knock on his door and both he and his shadow whipped their heads towards it.

“It’s me!” called a familiar voice.

With a resigned hiss, his shadow dissolved to the floor and retracted back to his person.

“Come in, darling!” Alastor called back.

The princess opened the door and slightly recoiled, coughing as she waved away the smoky haze. Her eyes scanned down to the still smoldering cigarette in his hand. She raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t realize you smoked.”

“Ah, yes!” He hastily put it out on the bottom of his boot and tossed the butt into the fireplace. “One of the less offensive vices I’ve carried over from my mortal days.”

“Is that the best thing to be doing when you’re not feeling well?” she asked.

“What do you mean? I feel just-” He stopped himself. “Oh! Yes, you’re right. I’m afraid poor health practices is another unsavory human trait I’ve retained.” He nodded to the serving tray nestled on her hips. “What’s all that?”

“I wasn’t sure what would help you feel better so I brought a little bit of everything.” She held up the tray and pointed to each item as she explained. “There’s tea, peppermint sticks, crackers, some antacids.” A small amber bottle of liquid sat next to the tea cup and she gave it a little jiggle. “Laurel gave me this stuff and said to come fetch her if it makes your jaw fall off. So, err, maybe don’t take too much of it. And I made you some soup.”

His smile softened. “You made me soup?”

“Well, it came from a can. But I added the bones to it! I thought you might like that.”

“You’re a peach. Thank you, my dearest.” Alastor took the tray from her and placed it on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “I appreciate your attentiveness, though I’m feeling much better. Whatever it was, I must have gotten it out of my system this morning.”

He sat down and reached for the crock of soup, stomach growling from the meaty aroma. As he slurped down the hot liquid, Charlie sat on the arm of the loveseat, watching him as she twiddled her thumbs nervously in her lap.

“So… umm… what was it you wanted to talk to me about earlier?”

Alastor straightened with a shiver of panic, as if an icy cold hand had grasped him by the back of the neck. He forced a laugh. “Silly me, I don’t remember. Must have just been some flimflam I thought you’d find amusing. Nothing important.”

Her expression wilted with disappointment. “Oh,” she said flatly. It was a perturbing response, but before he could make sense of it, a bubbly smile returned to her face. “Well, I need to get going. We have the group activity in a little bit, which you are officially excused from, by the way. But just for today!” She patted his knee. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Al. Get plenty of rest and I’ll come check on you later.”

“What a doting caretaker you are,” he teased playfully. “Perhaps next time you could wear a cute little nurse’s outfit. You know, really play the part.”

The princess rolled her eyes as she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re definitely feeling better.” She hopped to her feet and took a few steps towards the door.

“Charlie, wait!” he called to her.

She turned back to face him, smiling kindly. “What is it?”

I’m calling off our deal. You’re no longer obligated to fulfill your end of it.

That’s what he wanted to say, but his mouth was a rusted shut hinge, and when he forced it open, nothing came out. There was no greater power stopping him this time. It was his own fear and self-preservation that silenced the words before they could even begin to vibrate in his vocal chords.

What if he couldn’t figure this out on his own? What would happen to him when the bill inevitably came due and he refused to pay it? He’s made countless soul contracts over the years. He knows how ironclad they are. There’s a fate worse than second-death for anyone who violates them. The screaming voices in his broadcasts are evidence enough of that.

If anyone could help him, it was the princess. She’s more powerful than she realizes and cleverer than anyone gives her credit for. And most importantly, she’s fiercely loyal to her friends.

Alastor shook his head in disagreement with himself. And that’s exactly why he doesn’t need some carefully worded deal to ask for her help. Charlie cares for him. She said she would do anything for him.

But would she? If she found out the truth? If she knew what he had been tasked to do?

Would it really be so bad for him to have a backup plan? A safety net? A Hail Mary in case everything goes tits up? He could always free her from their deal after he finds a way out of his soul contract. What difference does it make if he does it then or now? It’s just a rainy-day fund, of sorts. Something he’ll only cash in if he absolutely needs to.

Besides, the one condition of their deal was that no one would get hurt. Surely that applies to Charlie herself. He has no reason to worry that that he’d be putting her at risk.  

Pulling himself out of his argumentative thoughts, he saw that she was waiting patiently for him to answer her. He slapped on his toothiest grin.

“The soup’s just dandy, by the way,” he said, motioning to the bowl in his hand. “The bones really elevate it.”

She beamed at his compliment. “I’m glad you like it!”

The moment the princess pranced out the door, Alastor deflated with a heavy sigh. He looked up at the mirror on his mantle and saw his shadow lurking on the wall behind him. It wasn’t angry, gleeful, or even smug. It just looked sad.

“It’s only a last resort,” the radio demon muttered dejectedly to himself.

Nose down in her clipboard, Charlie turned the corner of the hallway that led to her room. She heard a clink against her boot and glanced down to see that she had just kicked a tin can. A trail of them littered the carpet, and when she reached her bedroom door, she saw that even more had been hung on wire and strung along it. They crisscrossed menacingly over the heart-shaped welcome sign, makings its message of All are welcome here! seem more like a threat than a gesture of hospitality. After carefully unwinding the wire from around the door knob, she slipped inside.

The first thing she noticed was the wobbling tower of vinyl records in the center of the room. The second thing she noticed was a set of antlers sticking out from behind them. Alastor peeked his head out from behind the stack, a record in each hand, and two undulating tendrils holding a few more. His smiled widened at the sight of her.

“Hello, darling!” he sang cheerfully. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“I was just dropping my stuff off before coming up to check on you again,” she replied as she surveyed the room. “What is all this, Alastor?”

There was a distinct scent of disinfectant in the air and a bucket of sudsy water sat next to the door. The black sludge that had covered half her room had been scrubbed clean, but the radio demon had been much busier than that.

The duet of an out-of-tune fiddle and tinny washboard played from the phonograph tucked in the corner. She recognized it as the same one from his radio tower by the distinct crack in its ornate horn. He had created a cozy nook for it, complete with two cushiony armchairs, a fully stocked bar cart, and a brick fireplace that looked like it was ripped right out some quaint country cottage.

He tossed the records in his hand on top of the teetering pile. “I’ve been thinking all day about what we discussed this morning and decided I would be absolutely chuffed to move in with you. That is, if the offer still stands.”

She smiled. “Of course it does.”

“Fantastic!” He gestured around them. “As you can see, I tidied up from my mishap this morning and brought down some of my personal affects to spruce this place up. Now that we’re cohabitating, I thought that it could use a little traditional touch.”

“Traditional,” Charlie repeated, looking up at the cracked and weathered deer skull that now hung above her desk It looked like Alastor had sawed off the parts to a separate desk and haphazardly nailed it to hers, making it big enough for both of them. On his side was a fountain pen set and rusted typewriter that was missing a few keys. The picture of her with her parents was face down, and when she picked it up, she saw that he had scribbled a smiley face over her father’s head. She gave him a look and rubbed the graffiti away with her jacket sleeve.

“What if someone comes in here and sees all this? They’re gonna know it’s your stuff.”

“That’s what the cans outside are for!” he exclaimed. “But just in case my foolproof determent system doesn’t work, I do have a backup plan.” He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. “Observe!”

Charlie cocked her head in confusion as the radio demon closed the door behind him, leaving her alone in the room. A few seconds later, she heard a rapping on the door and a shrill warble of Oh, Chaaaaarlie! that she was sure was meant to mimic her father. Suddenly, all his things disappeared in a puff of green smoke and the room instantly rearranged itself, leaving no trace of him behind. Alastor opened the door and threw out his arms in a finishing flourish, looking pleased that his parlor trick had worked.

“See? If someone comes knocking, it’ll be like I was never even here.”

She laughed. “Quite impressive.”

He flopped down on the bed, and with a swift snap of his fingers, all his personal belongings rematerialized, exactly as they had just been. “You don’t mind all this, do you? I admit I might have gotten a bit overzealous with the interior decorating.”

She looked around the room again, clutching her hands to her heart as she saw all the little touches of him mixed with all the little touches of her. “Oh, Al. I love it.” She sat down next to him, linking her arm through his. “It’s so cozy in here now. It feels…”

“Scandalous?” he finished, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Like we’re playing house right under everyone’s noses?”

“Not exactly how I’d phrase it,” she responded. “It feels… like home. I know we already live together here at the hotel, but now it’s like we’re finally making a little part of this place ours.”

Alastor stared back at her, his smile clinched small. There was something melancholic in his expression, those intense scarlet eyes of his softening to rose. For a moment, Charlie wondered if she had gotten too caught up in her domestic daydreams, if what she said was exactly the kind of non-casual sentiment that Angel and Husk warned her against. But before she could say anything to diffuse the silence, he lunged forward to kiss her, bracing his hands against the mattress on either side of her as he crashed his lips into hers. The momentum sent her falling back against the pillows. He followed her down, not breaking their kiss as he bracketed her waist between his legs and positioned himself on top of her.

His tongue plunged aggressively into her mouth, his hands just as aggressively inside her jacket. With much less care than the previous night, he tugged it off her shoulders. He made even quicker work of her shirt, swift fingers working down the row of buttons until it hung loosely on either side of her.

“Al!” she yelped, shivering as she felt the cold air hit her skin. The prickle of goosebumps down her chest made her nipples harden. Alastor took notice as well, as when he eyes cast down to her breasts, his eyebrow quirked up with intrigue. He grazed his thumb over the lacy fabric, rubbing teasing circles around the raised mound that protruded from it. With a mischievous grin, he yanked the cup down, freeing her breast from its confinements.

Charlie gasped, arching into the warmth of his hand as he squeezed the goosebumped flesh. He began to kiss down her neck, taking her skin between his teeth and sucking until she thought it might slough off into his mouth. The marks he had left the night before were still tender and she whimpered as he bit his way down that path again. Like a trail so well-walked that nature couldn’t reclaim it, he wanted his affection permanently embedded into her flesh.

“I must confess,” he rasped, each word a hurried breath in the gap between his lips and her skin. “This was a major contributing factor in my decision to stay here with you.” He dragged his mouth over the swell of her breast.

Charlie let out a sharp cry of pleasure as she felt the hot suction of his lips around her nipple. He took it eagerly into his mouth, tongue lapping at the stiffened nub like a starved kitten drinking a saucer of milk. His teeth sunk into the tender flesh, teasingly, just enough to remind her how dangerous they could be. His hand made its way to her other breast and tugged down that cup, letting it bounce free. He kneaded the supple flesh between his fingers, pinching and twisting at the nipple to give it the same attention.

She moaned her appreciation, hands clinging to his shoulders and twisting tightly in his dress coat. She didn’t have much space to move underneath him and as her restless hips rocked side-to-side, she squeezed her thighs together, feeling her arousal leak from her core and dampen her panties.

He began kissing his way back up to her mouth as his hands traveled down her waist. With a few yanks, her pants were down to her ankles. She could feel the rumble of static that reverberated in his chest as his hands swept lowly up her legs and over her calf muscles. His long fingers wrapping around the thickness of her thighs, then tucked underneath her to give her ass cheeks a few indulgent squeezes.

Seizing the moment of reprieve, she grasping the front of his dress coat, fumbling for the buttons to remove it. He let go of her for just a second to shuck it off before his hands returned to their ministrations. Determined to get him in a similar state of undress, she managed to loosen his bowtie and pop open the first few buttons of his shirt. But before she could get any further, she felt his hand dip between her legs and inside her panties.

He gave a pleased hum as he sunk a finger between her drenched folds, the audible squelch making her blush furiously. “Lovely,” he groaned, twirling the digit in her wetness like he was stirring a cup of coffee. “Is all this for me?” He plunged in another finger and she keened in approval, her cunt squeezing tightly around the intruding presence.

For a man so indulgent and unhinged in his behavior, he could be so careful and precise when he wanted to be. He started slow, with languid, intentional strokes, his eyes locked with hers as he studied her reaction. Every minute flutter to her eyes, every time her mouth parted to take in a deeper breath. She’d see his smile twitch at the corners with satisfaction, feel his fingers inside her repeat whatever he had just done. He’d murmur “Did you like that?” and she’d simply nod in return, watching as desire blazed in his eyes as he mentally filed that away into the recipe box of her pleasure.

“Mmm… Alastor…” she sighed, rolling her hips against his hand. Every noise she made belonged to him. The moans, the whimpers, the soft breaths of his name, she could barely reach the last syllable before his mouth was on hers, as if he was so possessive of her affection, he would only allow it to be heard in the minute space between them. Hot, wet lips dragged against hers, their tongues intertwining in a well-rehearsed dance. The hand between her legs was just as confident, thumb pressed against her throbbing clit and fingers pumping into her tight heat, his sleeve drenched in her dripping arousal.

Alastor broke from their kiss to look down at the mess on the hand. Pulling away for a moment, he gave her a teasing grin as he wriggled his fingers, watching as her slick lazily dribbled off them and fell in thick droplets against her belly. Charlie’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him smear his thumb through it. He licked his lips, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed against it. Slowly he brought his fingers to his mouth and his tongue wrapped around them, licking the taste of her off them.

Bliss washing over his face as he closed his eyes, giving a staticky groan that made the air buzz with energy. He lapped hungrily at his hand, tongue darting between his fingers, over his knuckles, under his fingernails, not missing a drop of her essence. When he opened his eyes, they were pitch black, the radio dials in their centers a spinning red blur. He dug a claw into his pant leg, ripping through the fabric. Glancing down, she gulped at the sight of his erection, nearly about to split his fly open as it strained against his trousers. His hand crept between his legs and he squeezed himself, though the lustful glaze over his eyes as he continued devouring his own hand made her wonder if he even realized he was doing it.

“Oh darling,” he moaned. “You’re fucking delicious.”

She gave a breathy laugh. “Scary thing for a cannibal to say.”

The radio demon grinned, amused by her dark humor. “Perhaps I should consider veganism. Nothing will taste as good as you.”

He grasped the sides of her panties, and before she could lift her hips to help him, he had them ripped off and flung carelessly to somewhere in her room.

“Let’s get the rest of this off, shall we?” he crooned, giving a teasing tug to her bra, which had shimmied down to her ribcage. Her unbuttoned shirt and jacket were already past her elbows and he made quick work removing them. Slipping his hands behind her back, he groped at her bra strap, giving a triumphant “Aha!” when he successfully unhooked it. Charlie shivered when she realized she was fully naked.

Alastor loomed over her, his pupils so wide, they nearly enveloped the red of his eyes. His hungry gaze raked slowly down her form. “All mine,” he murmured, barely audible through the heavy rush of static in his voice.

Her body thrummed with an exhilarating anticipation, feeling like prey that had purposely sprung the trap and allowed itself to get caught. “All yours,” she whispered back.

It wasn’t a submission of will, nor permission for him to take what he wanted. Rather an affirmation. She had always been his, long before he had claimed her with the consummation of their relationship. And she would be forever, if he wanted. Still forever, even if he didn’t.

They met in a heated kiss. Alastor dragged his mouth down her chin, then her neck, and continued south into the valley between her breasts. She let out a sigh, carding her fingers through his hair as his labored pants tickled against her flushed skin. His hands caressed up and down her thighs, spreading them open wider. Rising up on his knees, he settled himself between her legs just as his mouth reached her navel. And when he continued past it, Charlie sucked in a sharp breath and looked down.

“Oh fuck,” she mumbled, realizing what he was about to do. Her legs trembled on either side of his head. “Al…?”

He paused, just above her thatch of pubic hair, and glanced up at her. His half-lidded eyes were hazy with desire, but there was a sharp glint of mischief in them.

“M-Mind your teeth…” she stammered.

His grin stretched unnaturally wide as he bared those teeth. Whether to assure her he’d be careful or to confirm her concerns, she wasn’t sure. Then his head sank between her thighs and fireworks exploded behind her eyes.

Charlie threw her head back with a loud wail as she felt his lips wrapped around her clit. “O-Oh… FUCK!!” she cursed again, hands grappling through his hair, desperate to find anchor.

He made a rumbling sound, half a chuckle and half a groan, and tightened his grip on her thighs to keep her in place. He sucked the sensitive mound into his eager mouth, his dexterous tongue flitting frenziedly against it. She had been close before and this sent her careening back to the precipice of her release, the coiled heat in her belly ready to snap.

A jagged tooth grazed her clit, ever so lightly, and she let out a sharp cry as her entire body convulsed. The radio demon rubbed a hand up her belly, almost soothingly, and smacked his lips a few times against the little nub in a wordless apology. Though she could feel him smiling in contradiction, and knew that apology was insincere when she felt his teeth latch around her clit. He bit down gently, with the careful precision of an alligator carrying its baby in its mouth.

The sound the princess made was something truly infernal, bubbling up from the deepest pit inside her. Her vision burned red, her hair tangled up the spires of her manifested horns, and her nails dug so deeply into the blankets underneath her, she shredded right down to the mattress.

“There they are.” Alastor peered up at her from between her legs, looking smug like a fox that had just coaxed a gopher out of its hole. He continued working her clit, nipping, sucking, licking, groaning into the hot wet mess of her pussy as she writhed and moaned underneath him.

“Oh god, Alastor!” she howled. “Don’t stop… p-please don’t stop…” Her last coherent thought not eroded by the endless ecstasy was how he was so good at this. Gone were his reservations and anxiousness from the night before, the unadmitted need for guidance, the careful ease of himself into something unknown. The radio demon never lost his confidence for long, and that talented tongue of his was as tactile as it was silver.

“Delectable,” he grunted, licking a stripe up her sopping wet pussy. Charlie whimpered pathetically, tiny, stuttered chirps that tumbled from her trembling lips. “Such a pretty tune,” he continued. “My darling, what an absolute treat you are.”

She could feel the mattress bouncing underneath them, and mustering the strength to lift her head, looked down to see that Alastor was grinding against it, his hips rutting in a frantic cadence against the bed as he sought relief for himself. It sent her head reeling, the thought that pleasing her was enough to drive him into such a frenzy.

With a heady groan, he buried his nose against her clit. His tongue plunged into her cunt, wriggling deeper inside her than his fingers had, lapping greedily at her fluttering walls as he tasted every inch of her that he could reach.

Charlie threw her head back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut as the room began to spin around her. She raked her fingers through his hair, trying to find purchase. His antlers had grown large enough that she could grasp them like handlebars and she clung helplessly to them in a futile attempt to regain some control over this hurdling ride into pleasure. She sobbed with the need for relief, bucking up against his face. The buzzy moan he gave vibrated deep into her core from where his mouth was pressed against her.

“Are you close?” he murmured.

“Mmhmm!” she managed to choke out.

“Good girl,” he growled. “Let me hear it. Let me feel it. Let me taste it.”

One more flick of his tongue had her orgasm overtaking her in waves of hot pleasure, tremor after tremor wracking her body as a hoarse cry ripped itself from her throat. The pressure inside her popped like the cork to a champagne bottle and she could feel herself gushing onto Alastor’s face. He groaned in delight, his tongue lapping vigorously at her pussy to swallow down every last drop she gave him. He spread her legs wider as he began sucking the slick off her thighs. Near manic in his task, he gurgled and grunted as he licked up to her navel, in the crease of her pelvis, even sucking it out of the sodden blankets underneath them as he mindlessly rutted against the bed.

“More,” the radio demon grunted, licking at her swollen folds before plunging his tongue inside her still-pulsing cunt.

Charlie felt the suction of his lips around her clit and cried out again, hips writhing as she recoiled from the painful sensitivity. Her tail wriggled out from underneath her and twisted around his leg, but he didn’t seem to notice. She tried to catch her breath but the relentless stimulation had it caught in her throat.

“Al!” she squeaked, tugging his antlers in the hopes he’d understand it was too much. Either he didn’t notice or was purposely ignoring her, as he continued coaxing out her arousal with his tongue. She felt like she would pass out from the overstimulation, then a sharp heat began building in her core and she was rapidly on the brink of another orgasm. She could barely feel anything except his hot mouth against her pussy and the velvety smoothness of his antlers in her hands. Her grip tightened and she gave them a vicious tug, smothering him between her legs, desperate for release from this blissful torment.

“Careful, darling.” He nuzzled his head against her hands. “Don’t rip them off.”

“P-Please, babe,” she begged. “I… I… a-ahh!”

Her second orgasm came with no warning and equal fervor. She fully succumbed to the pleasure and screeched his name as she desperately thrusted against his face. Her fingernails clawed and scraped against his antlers, tattooing her throes of passion into the bone.

“One more,” Alastor demanded, his mouth ravenous and unrelenting as he continued to fuck her with his tongue. He wrapped his large hands around her thighs, spreading them even wider. “I know you’ve got one more for me.”

Before she could protest, before the pleasure could wane into discomfort, she was there again. The third orgasm he pulled out of her was a crack of lightning down her spine. Her body went boneless and she felt like she had melted into the mattress, giving all of herself for the radio demon to drink his full.

As the last ripples of her orgasm ebbed away, Charlie laid there for a moment, chest heaving as she caught her breath, legs weak and trembling, skin prickling in tiny aftershocks. Alastor was still nestled between her thighs, nuzzling against her curly bush of pubic hair as he lazily grinded against the bed. She yanked hard on his antlers, pulling him up towards her. The look on his face was manic and possessive, mouth stretched in a crazed grin as her arousal dribbled down his chin and neck. He scooped her into his arms and fell back on the bed with her, pulling her into a hungry kiss and sending her head reeling again as she tasted herself on his tongue.

“You’re insatiable,” she gasped.

His smile curled devilishly. “I told you I would be. Can you blame me when you’re so irresistible?”

Alastor leaned back on his haunches and began unbuttoning his trousers. Pulling them down along with his boxer shorts, he snarled as his erection sprang free from its prison. Charlie felt her stomach swoop at the sight of it. The red veiny length of it quivered angrily, its swollen head as wet as she was as it dribbled an endless stream of precum. He had been so focused on pleasing her that he completed ignored his own needs, and now it was throbbing and leaking as he held it tightly in his hand. Despite her pussy still tingling with the aftermath of her release, a hot ache began to pulse deep inside her.

She reached for his cock, gingerly wrapping her fingers around it to give him a few slow, yet deliberate strokes. His eyes fluttered close and she could feel his hips surge slightly into her touch. He was hot and hard in her hand and she watched the corners of his smile twitched as she pumped her fist up and down his shaft.

“Hah…” With a strained groan, he stilled her hand. “I appreciate the warmup, my dearest, but I’m plenty ready for the main performance.”

He grasped the back of her neck, leaning in to kiss her as he guided her down onto the bed. Her heart was hammering in her chest as her head hit the pillow and she spread her trembling legs for him, allowing him to position himself between them. He slipped a hand between their bodies, grasping his erection, and she felt it drag against her inner thigh as he navigated to her entrance. Panting heavily into their kiss, he blindly fumbled for a moment before breaking away to give a quick glance down at what he was doing. Then she felt the blunt head of his cock push inside her. He gave a stifled grunt, his entire body trembling as he slowly inched deeper. Letting go of her waist, he braced his arms on either side of her and twisted his fists into the blankets.

She had almost forgotten it was only Alastor’s second time doing this and could see his confidence falter for a moment, eyes screwing shut and smile pulling into a tight grimace. Knowing he wanted to take the lead this time, she squeezed his shoulders encouragingly and gave him a soft moan of approval. With a ragged groan, his hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside her.

“Ohhh, Alastor!” Charlie arched off the bed with a sharp gasp of his name. There was so much of him, and despite how wet and ready she was, her inner walls still struggled to stretch around his length.

The radio demon muttered a string of curses under his breath, trying to regain his composure. She could hear a crackle of static in his chest as his cock pulsed needily against her fluttering walls. He gave a strained laugh. “N-Never going to tire of hearing you say my name like that.”

He began moving against her. Steady, controlled thrusts as his entire body swayed with the motion. His brow was pinched in concentration, teeth sunken into his bottom lip, and she couldn’t help but find his expression cute. Her discomfort melted into pleasure as she adjusted to his size, needing only a moment for that fullness to feel familiar and welcomed. She moaned as his hips pressed against hers, dragging her fingers down his exposed chest that peeked out from his shirt. Continuing her efforts to get him undressed, she undid the remaining buttons and peeled it off his shoulders.

His body radiated heat and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer and burying her face against the crook of his neck as she dusted his skin with soft sighs. She let herself melt into the warmth of him. His tall frame enveloping hers, the vibrations in his chest rattling deep in her bones, and the feeling of his cock inside her, thick and hard and not leaving an inch of her unfilled.

Alastor nuzzled his head against hers. “Is it good for you, darling?”

Charlie gave an affirmative hum and nodded.

His pace quickened, faster, harder, more urgently. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“So good,” she moaned. “So fucking good, babe. I feel so… so…”

“Tell me,” he repeated, a rush of static drowning his voice as he brutally snapped his hips against hers, increasingly frantic in his thrusting.

She slinked a hand down her stomach, past her navel, feeling the bulge of his cock inside her. “S-So full,” she finished. “Fuck Alastor, you feel so good inside me.”

“Oh Charlie…” he hissed, the gravel in his voice just as vicious as it was affectionate.

His cock pushed impossibly farther into her tight heat, hitting a spot that had the princess’s eyes rolling back into her head and her tail coiling as tight as the tension in her belly. The canopy and string lights spun above her head like a lit-up Ferris wheel rolled off its hinges. She felt something whiz past her head, then her hip. Glancing over, she saw that he had burrowed his tendrils into the mattress.

Alastor hoisted her up, caging her with his long arms in a back-breaking embrace. He was up on his knees now, pounding so hard into her, she felt like she would split in half. The soundtrack of his passion was just as manic. Warbling groans that ripped their way out of his vocal chords, shrill static that pulsed in the air and left a permanent shiver of goosebumps across her skin, and the wet slap of their bodies, faster and faster like a drizzle on pavement turning into a rainstorm.

Charlie clung to him as he slammed her down on his cock, nearly bent in half as her thighs squeezed tightly on his waist. The new angle had the length of him dragging roughly against her walls with enough friction to set her insides on fire. She threw her head back with an unabashed moan, fingers sinking in the sinewy muscles of his back. “A-Al… Ala…!” His name melted into more sobs of pleasure.

“O-Oh that’s fucking delightful,” Alastor growled. He gripped her tighter, drilling his cock into that sweet spot inside her that had them both keening in a lustful duet of passion.

She raked her fingers up and down his back, over his shoulder blades, along his spine, into his trousers to squeeze the soft flesh of his ass. He was still much too clothed for her liking and she began tugging at his pants. When she got them past his hips, she felt the whispy tuft of his tail, quivering with excitement as it popped free from its constraints. She combed her fingers through the soft fur, gently tugging as she caressed down the length of it.

“F-Fuck!” he cursed, his body giving a violent shiver. “C-Charlie… if you keep doing that… I’ll… I’ll…”

She continued, stroking the appendage over and over as Alastor grunted and growled with pleasure, losing all finesse as he fucked her at a brutish pace. Another tentacle staked above her head into the bed as he faltered, and with a harsh cry of her name, he finally let go.

Charlie felt a familiar rush of warmth inside her and met his cry with her own as he filled her with his cum. Her pussy clenched tight around his cock, milking it for everything it had. His climax was a cacophony of sounds, the scrape of his antlers against the headboard, the crack of his bones as his body arched and twisted, the warbling waves of static that broadcasted from his tightly clenched smile. She was teetering on the edge herself, feeling like everything before this had just chipped away at her and now she was about to completely break. She hooked her ankles around his hips, spurring him with her heel, needing him to give her that final push.

His pace didn’t relent, his cock didn’t soften, and he continued fucking her as his cum oozed out of her pussy and trickled down her thighs. His eyes were sharp with determination and desire, and he held her gaze for a moment before taking her mouth in a rough kiss.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he growled. “Cum for me.”

She felt something wriggle between their bodies, and before she could register that it was definitely NOT his hand, it pressed against her clit and she shattered. Hellfire erupted in her core, white hot bliss that flowed through every broken inch of her like magma through fissures. She threw her arms over her head as her body bucked and writhed its way through its orgasm, hands slipping on his tendrils as she mindlessly grasped at something to ground her through the overwhelming pleasure. Wetness gushed from her throbbing cunt as it squeezed Alastor’s cock in a vice grip.

“S-Shit!” he blurted out, hips beginning to stutter. “That’s… s-so tight… I… a-ah!”

“O-Oh goddd!” Charlie wailed as he came inside her for a second time. “I-It’s… it’s too much!” Her pussy was so plump and swollen, so full of his cock and cum, that she felt like she would burst. They rode through their climaxes together, a tangled mess of sweaty limbs, chafed skin, and lascivious cries of passion.

His hips stilled, puttering out like an old jalopy. The tentacles on either side of her wriggled weakly before dissipating into smoke and he collapsed on top of her with an exhausted grunt. He was heavy, but the weight of him was comforting, like an anchor that kept her tethered to this moment together. He held her tightly in his arms and her own were draped limply around his neck as she absently stroked her fingers against his undercut. His cock was still inside her, not quite soft yet, as her spent pussy fluttered around him.

Alastor began to peel himself off the princess. When his length slipped out of her and everything he had plugged inside her came leaking out, she gave a tiny whine of protest, feeling incredibly empty and already missing the presence of him inside her. He settled next to her and immediately pulled her close, wanting to maintain that physical touch as much as she did. Through the reddened flush and sheen of sweat on his face, she could still see his smug expression.

“That’s another sticker for the progress chart, don’t you think?” he jested with a cheeky grin.

“You mean the one you abandoned months ago?” She scrunched her nose at him. “When I can feel my legs again, I’ll make sure to give you a gold star.”

“I like the sparkly red ones. You know, with the smiley faces.”

She laughed and snuggled into his arms, letting out a content sigh as she enjoyed the warm, lazy haze of post-coital bliss.

“This really is quite nice,” Alastor murmured, resting his head on top of hers. “Having nowhere else to be except right here with you. I can almost pretend we’re the only two souls in this hotel. In all of hell. Like nothing else exists outside your bedroom.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “It’s our bedroom now.”

His eyes crinkled with affection. “Our bedroom,” he repeated.

They cuddled together in comfortable silence for a while until Charlie spoke again. “You know, Al, I’ve been thinking. Maybe it’s time we tell everyone about us.”

She felt him stiffen as he sat upright in the bed. “What makes you say that?”

“Things have calmed down after all that stuff with heaven and Heather’s redemption. Everyone at the hotel seems happy and we’re building up our numbers again. And all the new outlets are preoccupied with this interdimensional trade business crap we’re working on. It just seems like the right time. Besides, then you wouldn’t have to hide your stuff whenever someone comes in here.”

“No!” Alastor exclaimed, a slight rise of panic in his voice. He quickly laughed it off. “What I mean to say is why disrupt the status quo? There’s no need to rush such things. In fact, why are we so concerned with telling people at all?! I’m quite a private fella, Charlie. And just because you’re their princess doesn’t mean all of hell is entitled to know every facet of your personal life! There’s plenty of other grain for the gossip mill to grind.”

She frowned. “I just feel like the longer we lie about it, the worse it’ll be when we tell the truth.”

There was a shift in his demeanor, like a burdenous weight had settled on his shoulders. His smile pulled into a tight line. “I know,” he said. “Can we just wait a little while longer, darling? Please.”

The radio demon’s smiling façade might be limited in its range of emotion, but it was his eyes that always betrayed his true feelings. At least to Charlie, who had stared into those eyes when they were full of rage, sorrow, affection, and so many other things that he would blink away in an instant. Right now, there was a dark sadness in them, a flicker of desperation, like there was something more he wanted to tell her, but he was too afraid to speak it out loud.

“Alastor,” she began, gently cupping his cheek. “Are you okay? If something else is going on, you can talk to me about it. You know that, don’t you?”

“It’s nothing. I just-” He ran his hand through her hair, watching as the golden strands slipped between his fingers. “I like this little world we’ve created for ourselves, Charlie. I want to stay in it for as long as we can. Before we let everyone else in and they ruin it.”

“Okay.” Charlie nodded in understanding. “We’ll wait a little longer. Until it feels right for both of us.” She motioned toward the door, giving him playful smirk. “Can we get rid of the tin can death trap, at least?”

Alastor pursed his lips, humming tersely. “Fine, fine. No one here appreciates my bespoke ingenuity anyways.” He snapped his fingers and she hear a clatter of metal outside the door. “Now then!” With another quick snap, the bedroom lights dimmed, the record flipped over on his phonograph, and the pillows behind them magically fluffed themselves. “The night’s still young and so are we. Well, relatively speaking in the endless scope of eternity.” He grasped her by the waist and lower her back down onto the bed. “I think we should make the most of it.”

He spread her legs open, and as his head sank down between them, so too did all her concerns about him sink to the back of her mind.

Chapter Text

Alastor was frozen, in both meanings of the word.

A chill had settled deep in his bones, manifesting at the base of his spine. His body tensed when a shiver wracked through him, trapping it like air bubbles trying to escape under a thick sheet of ice. He tried to raise his arms, to shake away this cold, uneasy feeling taking hold of him, but he couldn’t move. No matter how hard he willed his limbs to, not even a muscle twitched.

He realized he was lying in a bayou. That bayou. The one he had brought many of his victims to and the same one he had died in. But it was twisted, warped into a nightmarish landscape that bore only a passing resemblance to the place he once knew. The water, usually stagnant and murky, now bubbled and churned, thick as tar and just as black. It sucked at him greedily, pulling him down into its depths. As he struggled to free himself, the mud hardened in the frigid air, entombing him in a swampy grave. It was slowly consuming him, filling his mouth so he couldn’t scream, flooding his nostrils so he couldn’t breathe.

All he could do is stare up at the canopy of trees above him. Their dead branches clawed at the night sky like a pair of spindly fingers reaching for him, wanting to wrap around his throat and push him under the surface until he drowned. There was no reprieve in the starless sky, no promise of a world beyond this nightmare. Instead, the black void above him was alit with eyes, thousands of them, glowing in the darkness as they watched him with malevolent glee. The silence around him was oppressive, broken only by the sinister gurgling of the bayou as it swallowed him whole. He sank deeper and deeper into the muck, the world fading away until there was nothing left but darkness and cold.

In the distance, he suddenly heard the deep howl of a hound dog, then another, until the bark that surrounded him was more dog than tree. He could already feel their teeth on him, shredding limb from body and muscle from bone. Terror froze what little mobility he still had and his heart pounded in fearful anticipation, matching the beat of the hounds’ paws against the wet ground as they got closer. The barking got louder and louder, ringing out through the woods like the bells of an undertaker, harbingering his demise.

Then just when he thought he would suffocate, that he would be ripped apart and die for a second time in this nightmarish bayou, Alastor woke up.

His eyes shot open and he took in a merciful gasp of air, lungs burning as they filled with oxygen. Relief washed over him as he realized it was just a dream. The tangle of blankets around him had been his mucky prison, the lights strung up on the bed’s canopy were those leering eyes, and the alarm on the princess’s cell phone had morphed into the barks and howls of those wretched hounds. Still half asleep, Charlie thwacked her hand against the nightstand to turn off the infernal device before continuing to snore into her pillow.

The radio demon let out a silent sigh and pressed his palms against his eyelids. He knew why he was having these nightmares. It’s been weeks since he started researching a loophole for his soul contract and he was still no closer to finding one. The constant worry was starting to wear on him, consuming his thoughts even when he was asleep. He had scoured every history book in the hotel, chased down every rumor of broken contracts he’d heard whispered over the years, and even took a few pokes at the computer in the hotel study, considering those magic boxes were supposed to contain all the knowledge of the universe. The latter ended with a half-charred room and a significantly bruised ego. It was a frustratingly fruitless endeavor and he was beginning to fear that he’d be doomed to an eternity of indentured servitude.

Alastor banished those disquieted thoughts to the recess of his mind. That was something he could fret over later. Presently, there were much more delightful things deserving of his attention.

He turned towards Charlie, slipping an arm around her waist as he cuddled up to her under the blankets. The inviting warmth of her body chased away the chill that lingered from his nightmare, thought it didn’t help that he wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. As he settled into the crook of her neck, an impish grin tugged at his lips at the thought of how coquettish his sleepwear fashion had become. The Alastor of old would have been utterly appalled at such a wanton display of indecency, sleeping in just his underwear, though most nights now he barely bothered to even put that much on. The feeling of Charlie’s bare skin against his own was an addictive comfort. Every soft, warm curve of her was molded to fit around him. And even when their newfound intimacy took them into the wee hours of the morning, he still couldn’t get enough. He wanted to bleed into her, like a blot of ink on fabric, spreading and intertwining until it tinted every fiber of her being with him.

The princess hummed happily as she stirred awake. “You’re s’cold,” she mumbled, her voice still heavy with sleep. She snuggled back, getting cozy in the nook of his arms. In doing so, her backside wriggled against his groin. When he groaned, she giggled and did it again, intentionally this time.

“How kind of you to warm me up,” Alastor purred in her ear as he rolled his hips against her. She wasn’t wearing much more than he was, dressed in just her pajama top and undergarments. He slipped a hand under her shirt and felt his way up to her breasts, kneading them between his fingers like a content housecat. Giving an approving hum, she lolled her head back against his shoulder and exposed a delicious length of her neck to him. He nibbled along the column of skin as his morning wood, persistent despite his unpleasant dreams, stiffened against her backside.

“You’re so hard too,” she teased, grinding back against his erection, knowing she was the reason for it.

With a dark chuckle, he slipped a hand between their bodies and into his boxer shorts, pulling out his cock. He rubbed it against the swell of her ass as he squeezed his hand between her thighs and spread them open, just enough so he could maneuver himself between them. Not bothering to take off her panties, he hooked two fingers under the fabric that covered her sex and pulled it aside. She let out an encouraging moan as he pushed inside her entrance, sinking in savoringly slow as her plush walls welcomed his throbbing length.

“Hnngh,” Alastor groaned, feeling her wet heat envelop him. “Darling, you’re so fucking tight first thing in the morning.”

Charlie softly whimpered as she arched back, hand reaching behind her and landing in his hair. Affectionate fingers stroked through the red strands as she pushed back onto his length and took all of him in. They stayed that way for a moment, intimately nestled together in a sleepy, lustful haze. With slow, languid roll of his hips, he began thrusting into her, letting the mattress springs do most of the work. She swayed with him and together they found a lazy rhythm, rocking against each other in the cozy cocoon of blankets as the morning sun just started to creep through the bedroom window.

“Aren’t you glad you moved in with me?” she murmured, nuzzling her head against his as he planted more wet kisses along her neck.

“Mmm,” the radio demon mumbled in agreement. “I do love these perks of cohabiting.” He sunk his teeth into her skin, grinning as her breath softly hitched. His hand crept inside her undergarments and between her folds, where his fingers began toying lazily with her clitoris.

“Oh… Al…” she moaned, her body gently surging into his touch. Her pussy clenched around his cock and she gripped his forearm, kneading the skin in silent encouragement. She was heavy and warm in his arms as she let herself get lost in the languorous pleasure.

Every inch of his cock could feel her, the tight squeeze of her cunt, the burning heat of her core, the slickness of her arousal. It was as torturously slow as it was endlessly indulgent, the way he was fucking her, and he savored every moment. Every shiver of goosebumps that prickled his skin, every twitter of pleasure that left her lips, every instance his hips pressed against her ass and he was fully sheathed inside her. Why let some silly nightmares sully his mood when there was a feast like this waiting for him each morning?

His release had been building just as slowly, like a steady flow of lava rising from his core. It started as a gentle warmth, simmering in his gut, but it quickly intensified, growing hotter and more insistent as the pressure mounted in his throbbing cock. He clung tightly to Charlie, grunting into the crook of her neck as the immediacy of his orgasm became apparent.

Alastor came with a satisfied groan, his cock pumping heavy spurts into the princess as he continued his steady pace. She whimpered his name as her pussy quivered around him with its own impending release, her fingers digging into his forearm. Through his waves of pleasure, he continued stroking her clitoris, dragging her over the edge with him. She craned her neck to look back at him, her dewy eyelashes fluttering over her eyes as the pleasure washed over her. He gripped her chin, firmly, yet tenderly, and pulled her into a ravenous kiss. She reciprocated, moaning into his mouth as they glided towards bliss together.

A few moments later, the jarring bells and whistles of Charlie’s cell phone pierced through their cozy post-coital haze. She gave her phone another whack, and with a sigh, became to peel herself away from the radio demon. At least she tried to, as his arms tightened around her and he yanked her back down into an entrapping embrace.

“Cancel whatever plans you have today,” he told her, nuzzling his face into the soft curls of her hair. “And stay in bed with me instead.”

She laughed and patted his arm affectionately before attempting to pry it off her waist. “I can’t. We have the press meeting today for the interdimensional trade route and I have a lot of work to do before that.”

Alastor grumbled irritably. That trade deal nonsense has taken up far too much of Charlie’s free time. Both of their free time, as he had insisted on being present for all the planning meetings. Partnering with those holier-than-thou winged imbeciles was one thing, but letting Vox get involved was something the radio demon would not let happen without his own participation. He knew Charlie wouldn’t allow herself to be taken advantage of again so easily, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play the role of protective boyfriend under the guise of being an attentive business partner. He just wanted to be close by with a pair of wire cutters in case that flat-headed creep tried to stick his slimy wires and plugs somewhere they didn’t belong.

“That’s not until this evening,” he protested. “Surely you don’t need the entire day to rehearse a few lines for the camera when I doubt that news wench is even going to put it on air.”

“This is a big deal, Al! We’re opening the trade portal live on the evening news. And besides that, there’s still a ton of logistics I still need to work out. I haven’t finalized the export manifest and… and… mmm…”

Alastor decided to use his mouth for another kind of convincing as he began nibbling the spot behind the princess’s ear that he knew would make her crumble like old plaster. She sighed and leaned back into his touch, her resistance wavering.

“S-Seriously… I can’t… my speech… n-not finished…”

“I could help you,” he murmured, sucking slowly down her neck. “You’ll get the work down twice as fast. Then we’ll have more time for this.” He took both her breasts in his hands and began massaging them through her shirt.

“I… I guess I could get some of my work done up here…” she finally submitted, melting into his arms. His hand began to wander between her legs, but before it could sneak into her undergarments again, she snapped out of the lustful spell he had cast on her. “B-But we should at least eat breakfast first!”

Giddy at his successful coercion, his grin stretched impossibly wide and he hopped quickly out of bed. “We certainly can’t work on an empty stomach. I’ll go fetch us some!” He raised his hand, about to snap his fingers.

“Put some clothes on first!” Charlie called out before he disappeared. Too impatient to get himself fully dressed, he snatched the robe hanging on the back of her closet door just as his shadows took him away.

“Good morning, my fellow wayward sinners!” Alastor boisterously declared when he materialized in the kitchen a moment later. His sudden appearance spooked Husk, who spilled his coffee on himself when he nearly jumped out of his fur. “Bit clumsy there! Put too much whiskey in your cup this morning, eh Husker?” Alastor jested, patting him on the back before tapping the rim of his mug to refill it. Husk looked down at his drink, then back up at the radio demon, utterly bewildered.

Alastor whistled cheerfully as he ambled over to where Niffty was attending the stove. “Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious, Niffty dear!” he complimented. She was double-wielding spatulas as she chopping a skillet of scramble eggs down to their molecular level. Her single eye went wide when she saw his state of undress and she dropped both spatulas into the pan, sending bits of eggs flying everywhere.

Moseying over to the refrigerator, Alastor took out a carton of orange juice and guzzled the entire thing down in one long gulp. When he spun back around, he nearly bumped into Lucifer. “And good morning to you too, sir!” he greeted with an exaggerated bow before placing the empty container in the king’s hand.

He then grabbed a plate from the cupboard and began piling food on top of it, oblivious to how everyone was watching him in stunned silence. They didn’t know what was more disturbing – his disarming demeanor or seeing him dressed in nothing but his boxers and a silk robe.

After dumping the full tray of bacon onto his plate, Alastor shoved a few pieces of toast into his mouth, grabbed the entire carafe of coffee, and vanished in the same flurry of shadows he arrived in.

Lucifer blinked hard, the empty carton of orange juice still in his hand. “I got Charlie a robe just like that for Sinsmas a few year ago,” he said. His eyes narrowed for a moment, then he shrugged, tossed the carton in the garbage, and headed out the door.

Angel Dust took a sip of his coffee as he slid up next to Husk. “That was the swagger of a man who just got done with his own morning grind.”

Husk looked like he was about to barf into his coffee mug. “Eugh,” he replied.

Charlie anxiously shifted from hoof to hoof, her heels clacking against the pristine marble floor of the Heaven Embassy. She stopped, cringing as the sound echoed loudly off the intricately carved pillars and vaulted ceilings that decorated the building’s grand foyer. With all its gleaming white stone and shimmer gold accents, the embassy stuck out like a single flower among weeds in the middle of Hell. It was a stark contrast to the grime and soot that coated the rest of Pentagram City.

A glowing gold portal appeared and out stepped Vaggie and Emily. She beamed at the sight of them and waved excitedly as she bounced over to greet them.

“I’m so nervous! Are you guys nervous? Should I have brought snacks? Or a bottle of champagne to pop? Do angels drink champagne?”

“Relax, Charlie,” Vaggie assured her. “You’ve been working nonstop for months! And the angelic council has been surprisingly agreeable about all this. All that’s left to do now is cut the ribbon.”

“And review the import manifests!” Emily added, holding up her clipboard. “There are a few, err… questionable line items we want to discuss.”

“Like the porn,” Vaggie said flatly.

“Yeah, the porn,” Emily agreed. “There’s a lot of porn.”

Charlie laughed nervously. “It was the number one thing people asked for. Maybe running those focus groups was a bad idea.”

“I did tell you as much, my dearest,” said a disembodied voice. Alastor, who had been loitering outside in an effort to spend as little time in divine company as possible, materialized behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Emily dear, always a pleasure,” he greeted. Smile tightening, he turned to her companion. “Vaggie.”

Vaggie crossed her arms as she eyed up the radio demon. “Alastor,” she returned. Turning towards Charlie, she raised an eyebrow, giving her a silent This is still a thing, huh? Charlie smiled sheepishly and shrugged, all but confirming it.

Another portal materialized, signaling the arrival of the angelic council and their heavenly entourage. Charlie was surprised to see Lute was with them, barking orders to her small squad of exorcists as they swarmed like angry hornets around Sera, Urrie, and the other council members.

“What’s she doing here?” she whispered to Vaggie.

“Lute insisted the exorcists serve as security for this,” Vaggie explained. “Just as a precaution.” She shot a look at Alastor.

“On account of me?” He put a hand to his chest and wiggled his shoulders. “How flattering!”

While Vaggie and Emily helped heaven’s news reporter get set up, Charlie awkwardly mingled among the friendlier members of the angelic council, though Alastor’s looming presence didn’t make any of them very chatty. She spotted Urrie strolling along the perimeter of the grand foyer with Lute on his coattails. He stopped to inspect a plaque on the wall, embossed with the visages of the archangel architects who designed the place, and with a haughty scoff, he wiped a speck of dust from it. As he continued his critical appraisal of the room, his eyes landed on Charlie and Alastor, narrowing into sharp slits as his antennae quivered in irritation. Lute leaned in to whisper something to him.

The princess felt an uneasiness wash over her as she watched the pair quietly converse. An unpleasant prickle of goosebumps spread up her arms and she hugged them to herself. She shook off the foreboding feeling, figuring it was just her nerves.

“Would you like me to kill them?” Alastor growled in her ear, a rumble of static in his voice. When he saw the mortified look on her face, he laughed and flippantly waved his hand. “I jest, I jest! I shudder to think where I’d end up this time if they banished me through another hole in the ground.

Charlie frowned. “Do you promise to behavior yourself tonight, Alastor?”

“Of course! When am I not the absolute picture of civility?”

Unamused, she crossed her arms and gave him a deadpanned look.

“That was another joke, darling. I’m just trying to lighten your mood. This will all go off without a hitch, I’m sure. You’ve memorized your speech forwards and backwards. I should know, I only listened to it about a hundred times today. I have no doubt you’ll charm those news monkeys with your usual song and dance. You’re quite the performer after all.” He brushed a knuckle affectionately against her cheek. “Just don’t forget to smile.”

She did just that, cheeks warming at his unbridled confidence in her. Their moment was interrupted when the embassy doors swung open and in strode Vox and Katie Killjoy.

“Get me a camera pointed at the portal and another at the window. Make sure it’s angled so you get that money shot of V Tower in the background.” Vox rattled off demands to his assistant as he surveyed the grand foyer. The bespectacled eel demon was furiously taking notes on the tablet in his hand as he struggled to keep pace behind his boss.

“And don’t get any of that tacky gold shit in the shot.” Katie yapped as a swarm of make-up artists painted and powdered her face. “Gold washes me out.”

Their bustling news crew invaded the space, raising towering spotlights and wheeling in camera rigs with the urgent proficiency of a race track pit crew. Cables snaked and snapped across the floor as they hurried to hang a massive VoxTek backdrop behind the trade portal archway, and within minutes, the stage had been erected and everything was ready for the broadcast to begin. Among all the equipment and camera operators was the lone press member from heaven, who had squeezed herself between two large teleprompters with her tiny camera.

Vox, looking pleased with his handiwork, spotted Charlie and a showy smile flashed on his screen. “There she is! The woman who made all this possible,” he boasted, already hamming it up before the cameras were even turned on.

"Thanks for organizing this press meeting, Vox," she replied, discreetly sidestepping his outstretched arm before he could wrap it around her.

“I’m glad you agreed to televise this. We have a much broader reach that way. Certainly better than some lame announcement on the radio.” He winked at her. “That pretty face of yours belongs on camera.”

She heard Alastor growled protectively as he stepped closer to her, the static he was emitting making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Vox looked him up and down with a smarmy smirk. “Hello, Alastor. I see you’re still clinging to the bottom of the princess’s shoe like an old wad of chewing gum. Are you finally making your silver screen debut? You might want to run a comb through that mangy bowl cut of yours if you’re planning to be on camera.”

“I’d rather eat my own eyeballs,” the radio demon spat back venomously.

“Or maybe you’re hoping for a rematch against those archangels?” Vox continued. “I’d love a front row seat to watching you get your ass kicked. We could stream it live! Exclusive premium content on Voxflix, available for an additional $49.99 on top of your subscription fee.” He snapped his finger and pointed at his assistant. “That’s a great idea. Jot that down.”

Charlie could sense Alastor winding up to retaliate and she gave him a look, pleading with her eyes in a silent reminder of what he had just promised her. With a resigned grumble, he shut his mouth, teeth audibly grinding as he held back whatever comeback he had prepared. “Plenty of other insufferable buffoons here vying for my disdain,” he muttered under his breath.

Katie Killjoy emerged from a cloud of makeup powder with her cigarette glowing through the haze like the beacon of a lighthouse. She tossed it on the marble floor and crushed it with her high heel. “Let’s get going princess, we’re live in five,” she snipped irritably. “And I need to make this whole shindig a tight twenty because I’m not going to be late for my gooch whitening appointment.”

“Err, your what now?” Charlie asked. Before she got an answer, she was being swarmed and rushed on stage. Vox’s assistant clipped a microphone to her lapel while rattling off instructions at the rapid speed of an auctioneer, which she didn’t catch a word of. One of the makeup artists began assaulting her with a very large makeup puff and she coughed as the powder exploded all over her face. They left her at the steps to the stage, and before she ascended, she turned back to Alastor with a nervous smile. “Wish me luck!”

He took the two sides of her bowtie between his fingers, giving it a little wiggle to straighten it. “Knock ‘em dead, darling. Figuratively, literally, whatever you thinks feels right.”

The princess stepped on stage under the blinding spotlights and flashing cameras as she approached the podium. She could barely see the news producer counting down on his fingers before pointing at Katie to start.

"Good evening, Pentagram City!” the newswoman began. “Katie Killjoy here and I'm joining you live from the Heaven Embassy where Princess Charlie Morningstar is about to make a complete fool of herself again. That's right, the royal nepo baby who couldn't even keep her shitty motel running for six months before launching us into an interdimensional war with heaven now thinks she can barter a trade deal with them! I for one can’t wait to pay twice the price for a cup of coffee just because the beans came from some hippie farm up in heaven. Anyways, here's the opening remarks from the princess herself. Enjoy the shitshow!”

“Thanks, Katie, for that, err… candid introduction,” Charlie began. “First off, I want to thank our friends from heaven for coming down here. Waaaay down here!” She swung her fist, pausing for comedic timing, but the room was dead silent. One of the cameramen coughed before she heard a delayed “ha!” come from Alastor offstage. He gave her an encouraging thumbs up. She collected herself for a moment before continuing. “Today isn’t just about opening a portal. It’s about opening a new pathway between hell and heaven, a bridge built on trust, understanding, and the belief that everyone deserves a second chance. We don’t just want to give sinners a glimpse of what they could have if they work to better themselves, but also show winners that it’s not just all fire and brimstone down here. It’s not so much about the goods themselves as it is about sharing our-”

"Touching words, princess!" Vox interjected, barging onto the stage and squeezing himself next to her at the podium. “And exactly why I’m so excited to be sharing our countless VoxTek innovations with our heavenly pals. From our newest line of VoxPads, to our endless streaming options on Voxflix, to our latest and greatest drone equipment, I guarantee there’s a piece of VoxTek tech for every holy roller up there!”

He rambled on and on, turned the princess’s opening speech into a glorified advertisement for his company. She plastered on a smile, hiding her annoyance, waiting for the opportunity to jump back in and steal the conversation back from him. Glancing to Alastor offstage, he made a slicing motion across his neck and pointed to Vox. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but couldn’t hide her smirk when he began pulling at an imaginary noose around his neck.

“Here’s to our future together!” Vox concluded. “A future powered by VoxTek.”

He turned towards the portal archway behind them, looked down at his hands, then turned sharply back to the princess. “Where are the scissors?” he hissed.

“What scissors?” she whispered back.

“The big ones. You know, to cut the ribbon.” He gestured to the velvety red ribbon tied across the archway and made a cutting motion with his fingers.

“Do people still do that? I thought that was just a figure of speech!”

His screen flickered in annoyance as he pressed two knuckles against it. “Charlie, sweetheart,” he began in a condescending tone. “The whole point of a ribbon cutting ceremony is to cut the ribbon!”

“What’s the hold up?” Katie was at the edge of the stage, impatiently knocking her microphone against her hip as she glared up at them. “We have three minutes until we’re off air.

“We don’t have the scissors to cut the ribbon,” Charlie explained.

“You’re the part-time lesbian,” Katie shot back. “Why didn’t you bring them?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Also that’s extremely offensive! I’m not–”

There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned around to see an oozy black tendril had wriggled up from the floor. It dropped an oversized pair of gold sewing scissors into her hands, then receded back from where it came. She looked towards Alastor, who discreetly tucked his hands behind his back as the green magic glowing on his fingers began to fade. He gave her a wink.

“Sorry for that delay, folks!” Charlie announced as she turned back to the cameras, brandishing the scissors. “Without further ado, I now announce the grand opening of the interdimensional trade route between heaven and hell!”

With a snip of the ribbon, the portal archway whirred to life. The gathering of demons and angels erupted into applause and she beamed out at the crowd. Vaggie and Emily were clapping excitedly for her, while the rest of the angelic council had a more tempered enthusiasm. Katie Killjoy seemed annoyed that things went as well as they did and her closing remarks were only slightly kinder than her opening ones. Even Alastor looked pleased, though probably more at the fact that this event was nearly over.

“I’m glad you finally came around,” Vox said, his fake smile unwavering as the cameras continued flashing around them.

“Came around to what?” she asked.

“Partnering with me.” He put a hand behind her back and posed with her for the photographer who came up to the stage. “You’re a smart girl, Charlie. I knew you’d see the benefits of it, even with a certain someone spitting in your ear about doing otherwise.”

“I admit, this trade deal was a good idea. Heaven seems to think so too. This alliance between us is so new and fragile, I’ll do whatever it takes to maintain it.” She leaned away from his touch as she smiled for the picture. “And despite what you might think about Alastor, he does care about keeping the peace down here.”

Vox chuckled knowingly. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He straightened his bow tie. “Well, this has been fun. Always a pleasure, princess. I look forward to the work we’ll be doing together on this.” He took her hand, and she dreaded for a moment that he was going to kiss it, but instead he struck a pose for another photographer, who took a picture of them mid-handshake.

With a whistle to his assistant, the television demon made his exit. Charlie watched him weave through the dissipating crowd. Katie and her news crew had packed up and made a beeline for the door the second the broadcast ended. The same could be said for the angelic council as she hadn’t even seen them summon a portal for their departure. Only a few stragglers remained, including Vaggie and Emily, who she was hoping to catch up with before they also returned to heaven. But what surprised her was to see that Lute had stayed behind as well. She was staring directly at Charlie, arms crossed and a sinister smile stretched across her face. Her gaze was only broken when Vox walked past her and the pair exchanged a brief, albeit tense glance.

“Charlie, my dearest, as much as I love to see you on stage, I’m afraid there’s no curtain call for this performance.”

She hadn’t even realized Alastor was standing next to her until she felt his hand squeeze her shoulder. When he saw the distant look in her eyes, he cocked his head, smile shrinking with concern.

“Something wrong?”

She looked back out into the grand foyer, but Vox and Lute were already gone. That same uneasy feeling crept up her spine again, but just like last time, she shook it off.

“It’s nothing,” she told him.

The trade deal had gone far smoother than Alastor had expected. Some members of the angelic council almost looked disappointed that he hadn’t caused a scene. Perhaps he was a bit disappointed himself that Vox hadn’t given him a good reason to string him up by his own wires and offer their heavenly brethren some sticks to beat him with.

He had headed back to the hotel by himself, declining Charlie’s offer to grab a drink with Vaggie and Emily before the pair departed for heaven. It was a rare commodity nowadays, to have an evening to himself, though not something that he particularly missed. He used to relish in his alone time, cozied up with his records, books, a good vintage rye, and his latest victim served up bloody and raw on a platter. But lately, anytime he had nothing but his own thoughts for company, there would only ever be one thing on his mind – his soul contract.

As he materialized in his radio tower, he shucked off his jacket and went to hang it up. His boot caught on something and he stumbled over, knocking into the coat rack and nearly impaling himself on one of its hooks. Looking to see what had tripped him, he picked up a book that was laying on the floor. It must have fallen from the nearby stack, nearly as tall as he was, that he had borrowed from the hotel study’s collection of historic texts and other academic humdrum.

He brushed his thumb over the pressed letters on its worn leather cover, spelling out some boring title about the bylaws of hell. It had been woefully unhelpful in his research, just like every other book in that teetering tower of texts. He had been so sure that he would find something, some fine print that had been overlooked, a tiny discrepancy that he could exploit. There had to be some way to wiggle out of this deal that had been hanging over his head like a guillotine.

He pushed that anxious dread to the back of his mind. This was ridiculous. His head’s been on that chopping block for nearly a century and the blade hasn’t dropped yet. He was the one sawing at the rope by creating such a false sense of urgency about it. He’s never been one to dwell on his problems before, why start now?

Alastor shook his head and tossed the old manuscript on top of the stack. It wobbled precariously for a moment before tumbling over, scattering books and loose pages across the floor of his radio tower. He let out an exasperated sigh. With a quick snap of his fingers, he vanished in a swirl of black smoke, reappearing moments later in the hotel study, carefully balancing the column of books in his arms.

“Gosh and jeepers!” Bull exclaimed, startling in his seat by the fireplace as he tossed his newspaper in the air. “You really do give people a spook popping up out of nowhere like that.”

“I didn’t realize anyone was down here,” Alastor replied. It was as much of an apology as he was willing to give the bull demon. He placed the books down on the coffee table and began slotting them back into the bookcase.

“Lemme help you,” Bull offered, getting up from his chair. “I reorganized this library myself and know the catalog like the back of my hand.”

“How studious of you,” Alastor retorted, though he didn’t object as Bull picked up a few books and began finding them homes.

“I saw Miss Charlie on the news tonight. Glad that trade deal of hers went off without a hitch.”

The radio demon hummed in agreement, not wanting to make small talk.

“What crazy times we live in, heaven and hell intermingling like that. Goes against the natural order of things, don’t you think, Al? Or maybe I’m just too old fashioned.”

Alastor bristled at the nickname. "Don't call me that," he snapped.

Bull held up his hands in apology. "Didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that I hear Charlie call you that all the time.”

"Yes, well, she's the only one who's permitted to," Alastor retorted. He turned his attention back to the bookcase, eager to finish the task and return to his radio tower. But as he slipped the last book onto the shelf, a thought began to nag at him. He turned towards the bull demon.

"You were an overlord for a long time, weren’t you?" he asked. "In all those years, has anyone ever broken their soul contract with you?"

Bull looked surprised by the question. "No, can't say they have. Why do you ask?"

“Curiosity, is all,” Alastor replied, though he was unsatisfied with that answer. “So where are they now? The sinners whose souls you’ve claimed. Was part of your retirement plan to rip up their contracts?”

There was a tinge of annoyance to the polite smile on Bull’s face. "They’re where all damned souls eventually end up. Obliterated. Paying the eternal price for a lifetime of sin."

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, intrigued by the ex-overlord’s strong choice of words. “So you put them down yourself, like an old farmer with a barn full of useless, milked-out cattle?”

Bull snorted, causing his nose ring to quiver. “Something like that.”

“How delightfully cruel. And quite unbelievable I might add, given that we sinners can’t kill one another, not in the permanent sense. Unless of course you’re referring to the exterminations.”

Bull blinked at him, his pleasant expression dropping for a moment. Then he laughed it off and gave the radio demon a hearty pat on the back. "Of course I was. There's no greater joy than seeing those that deserve it face divine punishment, wouldn't you agree?"

The two demons stared each other down, the air between them buzzing with tension. Alastor’s gaze was hard and searching, trying to see through the friendly façade that Bull had just let crack. Then his smile stretched tensely as he finally spoke. “To punish or be punished, that’s our lot in this afterlife.”

A short while later, Alastor was back up in his radio tower, trying to engross himself in the horror novella he picked up. He had reread the same page thrice now, not absorbing any information from it, as his mind kept going back to his conversation with Bull. Trying to figure out the burly bovine was driving him nearly as mad as his futile research. Something just didn’t add up about his backstory. Being as old as he claimed to be, retiring from the overlord business, surviving out in the badlands on his own, only to show up at the hotel seeking redemption? They each felt like parts of a different story, cobbled together in a way that didn’t quite fit.

If he really did come to the hotel to better himself, then why lie about his past? And if he didn’t, then what business does he have here? Did someone send him? Vox is an idiot, but he wouldn’t try the same scheme twice of sending a spy to the hotel. And sure, there are other overlords who would love to see the hotel reduced to rubble again, but none would dare put a finger on the place so long as the radio demon was protecting it. So if no one sent Bull, was he here planning his own schemes? It wouldn’t be the first time someone showed up to the hotel with a hidden agenda…

Setting his book down on the side table, Alastor plucked his monocle from his cheek and rubbed his eyes. As he looked down at his boots, he saw that a book had slid under the coffee table in front of him. He leaned over and picked it up, intending to pop down quickly to the study and return it, then stopped when he saw the title. The Founding Fearfathers: Hell’s First Overlords.

“Fearfathers,” he repeated to himself, recalling his conversation with Zestial at the last overlord meeting. The old spider demon had told him Bull had some kind of connection to these ancient overlords. A necklace or something of the sort, bearing their sigil. Did Bull kill one of them for it? Was he their protégé? Perhaps he had even been one of these founding fearfathers?

Alastor had only skimmed this book before, looking for any mention of soul dealings and not really caring about the political drama of hell’s first overlords. He flipped to the chapter about the fearfathers themselves and found the sigil in question, some twisted archaic thing that looked like a tree with seven severed branches. He recognized it as the faded embossment on the leather bracers Bull always wore.

On the next page was a photo of an ancient slab carved with seven figures. The art style was interpretative at best, but he could make out a hare, some goat-looking creatures, and what was undeniably a large bull with curved horns. Encouraged, he flipped through the pages, counting off the members as he went, feeling like he was about to uncover some big secret about the hotel’s most enigmatic guest. Then just as he turned the page past the sixth overlord, he was met with the title page for the next chapter – Sewer and Sanitation in Ancient Hell.

“That can’t be right,” Alastor muttered, flipping through the pages again to make sure he hadn’t miss anything. Examining the book closer, he saw the jagged edges of where a chunk of pages had been torn out. Whoever this seventh fearfather was, his identity had been ripped clean out of this book.

He deflated in his seat, disappointed that he had hit yet another dead end in his research. As he contemplated tossing the book into the fireplace and ending this wild goose (well, cow) chase before he got carried away with it too, his radio tower door creaked open and Charlie peeked her head inside.

“There you are!” she said. “You weren’t in our room so I thought you might up here. I’m not disturbing you, am I? I know you like to come up here when you need some alone time.”

“Of course not, my dearest,” he replied, gesturing for her to come into the room. “You’re welcome up here anytime.” He patted the spot next to him on the loveseat. “I take it your gal’s night went swimmingly?”

Charlie nodded. “Vaggie and Emily sent their regards. Well, at least Emily does. What are you reading?” She took the horror novella off the side table as she sat down next to him. Her face twisted in disgust when she saw the grotesque illustration on the cover and she quickly put it back down, then took a peek over his shoulder at the book in his hand. “Another history book? You must have read through that entire section of the hotel library by now.”

“Twice over, in fact,” he responded.

“The Founding Fearfathers. Oh wow, that’s really a throwback!” she exclaimed. “You know, my dad has a huge collection of old manuscripts like that in his workshop. I’m sure I could snag a few for you, if I ask him nicely. And, err… maybe didn’t mention they were for you.”

“A thoughtful offer, though I don’t think we should give you father any more reason to be suspicious of us.” He jiggled the book in his hand. “So what do you know about these fellas?”

“Not much. They all got exterminated way before I was born. I heard they were a real nasty bunch, though. It’s part of the reason why my dad became so hands off here in the Pride ring.”

“And here I thought it was his complete and utter lack of leadership skills,” Alastor retorted.

“Har har,” she said flatly. “Why are you so interested in those dead guys anyways?”

“Apparently our dear friend Bull has a connection to them, and whatever that connection is, I have an inkling he doesn’t want us to know about it. Look at this.” He flipped through the book to the missing pages. “An entire section, completely torn out. Surely this is his doing. That big beefy bastard is hiding something, I just know it.”

Charlie shook her head. “Even if he does have a connection to them, maybe it’s something he doesn’t want to talk about. Not everyone wants to discuss their past.” Her hand fell on his shoulder. “You should know that better than anyone, Al.”

The radio demon hummed tersely, knowing she was right. “I suppose so. But still, to vandalize hotel property like this and still put on that goody two-shoes act of his? You have to admit that’s suspicious.”

“Eh, Ted probably did that. The other day he was making something out of paper mâché. I caught him ripping up a bunch of books from the study.” She made a face. “It looked like a sex doll. A, uhh… very anatomically correct one. I don’t think you want those missing pages back.”

Alastor let out a cervid squeak and dropped the book, then hastily wiped his hand on his trousers. “Perhaps I will take you up on that offer to borrow some old texts from your father.”

The princess chuckled as she scooted closer to him, linking her arm through his and snuggling against his shoulder. “Dad actually had some nice things to say about you today.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, he raised an eyebrow. “When was this?”

“He texted me after the press meeting.” She pulled out her cell phone to show him. Adjusting his monocle, he squinted at the tiny screen. Lucifer’s message read GR8 JOB KIDDO!! GLAD UR BIZ PARTNER FINALLY GUD FOR SUMTHIN!! It ended with a tiny image of a pair of scissors.

Alastor snorted in amusement. “Perhaps he’s finally warming up to me.”

“I really am thankful for your help today, Al. I know you hate all this political crap with heaven. And the only think you hate more than that is being on camera.” She combed her fingers affectionately through his bangs. “I’m proud of you for keeping it together today.”

“Oh please,” he brushed off, despite the warmth creeping up his neck from the compliment. “You make me sound like some petulant toddler.”

“It’s not that at all. You do so much for the hotel! Everything from changing the light bulbs that Nifty can’t reach, to making sure the bar is always fully stocked for our open house nights, to finishing my lesson plans when I fall asleep in the middle of writing them.” She slipped her arms around his neck. “I don’t think I tell you enough how much I appreciate all that you do here. You really are a good guy, Alastor.”

“Oh, now you’re just insulting me,” he quipped, grin widening as he pulled her into his lap.

She had already closed the distance between them when he met her in a kiss. Her lips were eager against his as her tongue danced into his mouth. A heady groan rumbled in his throat as he dug his claws into the meaty flesh of her thighs. It was an aggressive mix of tongue and teeth as he matched her enthusiasm, sinking his sharp incisors into her bottom lip and sucking it between his own. Her smile curled against his as she tugged herself free. She kissed the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then continued along his jawline until she reached his neck. He could feel the hot tingle of his blood vessels bursting as her teeth sank into his flesh. She did it again and again, leaving a trail of affectionate carnage along his neck. Just as that flushed skin began to burn, she retraced her path with a salve of kisses, her soft lips pressing against each mark she had made.

“Mmm,” Alastor groaned, sinking back into the loveseat as he willingly submitted to her enthusiastic ministrations. “Is this my reward for behaving myself today?”

“Something like that,” she murmured, her breath against his skin causing a flurry of goosebumps to erupt. She slipped two fingers into the knot of his bowtie and loosened it, then continued downwards, tracing over his Adam’s apple before flicking open his shirt buttons, one by one. Her mouth followed closely behind, sucking more bruises into his skin. She kissed her way across his collarbone and down the bony valley between his pecs.

“D-Darling…” he breathed out, voice warbling with desire. His body was warm and buzzing with arousal, and just as he was about to suggest they retire to their bedroom, he felt her weight shift on top of him. He made a noise of protest as she slipped off his lap and down to the floor.

“Just what are you- oh.”

Charlie was kneeling between his legs, her hands resting on his knees. There was a flush to her cheeks as she stared up at him expectantly. “I thought maybe we could try something different tonight,” she began, biting her lip as she slowly spread his legs open. “You know there are other ways I can make you feed good…”

Alastor let out a nervous cackle. “That’s… umm… w-well that’s quite a compelling prospect…”

She cocked her head, lips curling in a playful smile. “You do know what a blowjob is, don’t you, Al?”

“Yes I know what a… a blowjob is,” he snapped back, his face heating up as the word stumbled awkwardly from his mouth. “It just… well, it just seemed like such an ungentlemanly thing to ask for.”

“So do you want one?” she asked as she slowly rubbed her hands up his inner thighs.

“I mean, if you’re offering,” he replied, trying to sound casual despite how his heart was pounding in lustful anticipation.

Charlie pouted at him. “You don’t sound very excited about it. Remember when we talked about good communication? Use your words, Alastor. Tell me exactly what you want.”

The radio demon narrowed his eyes, lips tugging in a challenging smirk. “You little vixen. You’re getting some twisted enjoyment out of this, aren’t you? Making me say all these terribly inappropriate things.”

Her hands continued upward, caressing over the very obvious bulge in his trousers. “Seems I’m not the only one enjoying this,” she teased, giving him a light squeeze.

He shut his eyes as his erection throbbed under her teasing touch. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Yes what?”

“Yes,” he repeated, the static in his voice causing the air around them to buzz with energy. He took her chin in his hand and lifted it so she was looking straight up at him, into the glowing red radio dials where his pupils had just been. “I want you to wrap those pretty black lips around my cock and show me just how much you appreciate me as your business partner.”

Charlie’s eyes widened briefly at his lascivious confession, a flash of shock fleeting across her face before melting into a seductive smile that promised exactly what he had just asked for.

She began stroking him through his trousers, rubbing his tip with her palm before squeezing down the length of him. Her fingertips trembled in excitement, like his cock was a present she was eager to unwrap, as she tugged impatiently at the button and zipper of his trousers. The breath he’d been holding hissed out between his teeth as she free his erection from its confinements. A pearly drop of precum oozed from his hard cock. She swiped it with her thumb before taking him in her hand, spreading it down his length as she gave him a few slow pumps.

Instinctively, Alastor’s hips rose off the loveseat and he groaned, letting his head roll back against the cushion as he shut his eyes. Though he was no longer a novice at such activities, every time she touched him like this never stopped being just as exhilarating as the first. He hummed his appreciation as she continued to work him, feeling that delicious heat pool in his gut and spread down his cock as she deliberately stroked him from base to tip.

Suddenly, a wet, velvety softness pressed against his cockhead and his eyes flew open, breath hitching in his throat. Looking down, he saw Charlie, her lips parted as her tongue peeked out to taste him. She gazed up at him, her eyes dark with desire, as she kissed the head of his cock, gently, tenderly. Alastor's heart pounded wildly in his chest, his body tensing as he watched her, utterly captivated. His hips jerked slightly as she did it again, then again, each time more purposefully. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes never leaving his, and then slowly, took him into her mouth, enveloping his cockhead with her plush lips.

The radio demon’s reaction was immediate and visceral. A guttural moan of pleasure and surprise exploded from his throat as his body lurched forward, back arching so intensely that he nearly snapped his spine in half.

“A-Ah… FUCK!” he cursed, hips writhing in torment as the sensation of her mouth around his cock was almost too much to bear. It was wet and hot, just like her pussy, but it was a different experience entirely. When he was inside her, it was like a dance, a give and take between the two of them. But now, with the most sensitive part of him tucked between her fangs? He was completely at her mercy, helpless to do anything except trust and observe. His body trembled with fear and arousal, torn between its instinct for self-preservation and an overwhelming need for the pleasure she was giving him.

Charlie released him from her mouth with a soft pop, placing a gentle, but firm hand on his stomach to still his restless hips. “Relax, Al,” she murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

She lowered her head again as she wrapped her lips around his tip, taking in more of him this time. Static fizzled out between his tightly clenched teeth as he felt her mouth slide down his shaft. Her scarlet eyes, as affectionate as they were intense, locked with his as she sank further down, inch by inch, her tongue swirling and tasting as she sucked down his pulsating length. Then she began to pull back, licking up in the vein on the underside of his cock until she reached its tip again. She lapped at his flushed red cockhead, the audible smack of her lips making his erection throb so intensely, he could feel it from the tips of his antlers to the bottom of his hooves. She repeated the motion, bobbing down and up on his cock, a little deeper, a little faster, taking in as much of him as she could while her hand vigorously stroked what she couldn’t reach with her tongue.

“Charlie…” Alastor ground out. “That’s… that’s… f-fuck, darling… that’s incredible…”

It was exquisite torture. Every ridge, every vein, every inch of him being tended to by her mouth. He felt her throat flex to accommodate him as she swallowed him down to the root. She held him there for a moment, the heat and suction of her mouth absolute bliss, as her hand cupped his scrotum and squeezed. His balls were heavy, full, and begging to be emptied of their aching need, and as she rolled them in her palm, he grunted and bucked against her, hips driving forward in desperate urgency. Without thinking, he gripped her head for leverage, his fingers twisting and tugging in her hair. She didn’t protest, instead humming around him in approval. The vibrations sent his head reeling and he nearly came right then, clutching even tighter to her as he tried to reel himself back from the edge of oblivion.

“M-Mercy me!” he gasped. Static swelled in his throat, wanting to burst out of him as badly as his orgasm did. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but that did little to dampen the feedback reverberating in his chest.

“Royal Auto and Repair, now offering full service!” The jingle broadcasted from somewhere deep inside him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “Just a little spit and polish will really get your engine running!”

Charlie giggled, sending another delicious vibration down his cock. She popped him out of her mouth, her wet lips quirking in an amused smirk. “That hasn’t happened in a while,” she teased.

“Y-Yes, I thought I had gotten that under control,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face as it heated in embarrassment.

“I like when it happens,” she admitted.

“Don’t tell me you think it’s cute,” he grumbled.

She laughed again as she slid her hand down his hard length, squeezing tightly as she reached the base. “I like seeing you lose control like that,” she murmured lowly as she watched the precum that had bubbled in his slit begin to dribble down his tip. “I like knowing I’m the reason for it.” She caught the pearly liquid with her tongue, licking up his swollen cockhead to capture every last drop. Hellfire flickered in her eyes as she swallowed him down again, her fangs pricking against his length as she took him deep in her throat.

“C-Charlie…!” Her name was a demonic howl, more static than words. “Sweet girl… wicked girl… you’re too good to me…”

He was lost in the wet hot bliss of her mouth, forgetting about everything else around them. All his worries and irritations, none of it mattered. His soul deal? Just a minor inconvenience. Vox? Who cares if he’s trying to sleaze his way into the hotel, he’ll never have Charlie like this. And Bull? Charlie was right, his past was his own business. All that mattered to Alastor right now was his beloved princess, down on her knees, worshipping his cock with her mouth.

He groaned and writhed as he thrusted his throbbing length further down her throat. He was close, so close, and could feel his orgasm rapidly building, the pressure in his scrotum, the tingling at the base of his spine. His claws were tangled in her hair and he yanked hard, needing her to take all of him in, needing her to completely consume him, needing to unburden himself inside her. She hummed encouragingly around his cock, her head moving faster, tongue sucking harder, hand squeezing his balls to coax out everything he had pent up.

“Close?” she murmured, barely taking him cock out of her mouth to ask it.

“About to fucking burst,” Alastor croaked. He could feel the veins in his cock pulsing, the unbearable heat in his gut boiling, his body thrumming with frenetic energy as it begged for release. A fleeting thought crossed his mind if there an etiquette here, if she would swallow him down or finish him some other way, but before he could ask, he was cumming.

His body quaked with the force of his release, cock exploding in Charlie's mouth as he unloaded everything he had. He could feel every spurt, every shiver, every wave of pleasure as it wracked through him. She took it all, her gaze locked with his, still bobbing up and down on his cock as he shot thick ropes of cum down her throat. Her eyes watered as he filled her mouth to the brim, his cum leaking out the corners before her throat flexed and she swallowed it down to make room for more. She moaned around his cock, eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as the pleasure she was giving him brought her just as much pleasure herself.

She milked out every last drop and only when he was gasping, shaking, and completely spent did she finally release him from her mouth with a lewd, wet pop. A bit of his cum had dribbled down her chin, and mustering up his last bit of strength, he leaned over and swiped at it with his thumb. Before he could banish it to oblivion with his magic, she grabbed his wrist, and with a devious grin, wrapped her lips around the digit to suck it clean. It was all too much for the radio demon and he collapsed against the loveseat with a spent groan.

“D-Darling, if I was still alive, you’d… you’d be the death of me,” Alastor stammered, throwing the back of his hand against his forehead as he took a moment to compose himself. The princess chuckled as she tidied him up and tucked him neatly back into his trousers. Then resting her head against his thigh, she looked up at him with an adoring smile, a glint of smug satisfaction in her eyes. She looked an adorable mess, mascara streaked down her cheeks, lips puffy and raw, hair in sweaty coils that clung to her forehead. He brushed his fingers affectionately against her cheek, tucking the errand strands of hair behind her ear so he could see all of her pretty face. Offering his hand, he helped her off her knees and immediately pulled her into a kiss. It was a peculiar sensation, the sharp tang of his own cum mixed with the sweet taste of her. A thrilling form of self-cannibalism that he didn’t think he’d enjoy unless she was the one offering it to him.

Charlie cozied up in his lap, idly playing with the buttons of his shirt. “You do know how much I appreciate you, don’t you, Al?” she asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Alastor replied, voice pitching high in mock uncertainty. “I could use a bit more convincing.” With a devilish grin, he swept her into his arms as shadows swirled around them. She let out a delighted squeak as they vanished from his radio tower.

The hellish sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon the following morning when Alastor was once again roused out of sleep by the bells and whistles of Charlie’s cell phone. He grumbled in annoyance, summoning a tentacle to whack the thing off her nightstand. They were both completely naked under the sheets and he nuzzled into the warmth of her bare breasts, coiling himself even tighter around her so she wouldn’t move.

When the device went off again a minute later, Charlie stirred awake with an equally annoyed groan. She was resting her head on top of his and buried her face between his ears, hoping they’d muffled the sound. Her phone continued its shrill chirping and she finally relented, wriggling free from the radio demon to grab it off the floor.

“Ugh… why is Angel texting me so early?” she muttered, squinting as the bright light of the screen.

“Why is he texting you at all when he lives in the same building,” Alastor grumbled. “Honestly, it’s outrageous how addictive folks are to their little handheld picture boxes.”

Charlie suddenly bolted upright, fully awake and eyes as wide as saucers. “Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

Confused, Alastor groggily rose up to a sitting position next to her. “What is it?”

Unable to speak, she turned her phone so he could read what was on the screen. Reaching for his monocle on the nightstand, he held it up to his eye so he could see what Angel Dust had sent her. It was a news article, and when he read the headline, he dropped the lenses in shock.

THIS ROYAL AFFAIR HAS BAD RECEPTION - PRINCESS MORNINGSTAR AND THE RADIO DEMON’S ROMANCE EXPOSED!

Underneath the headline was a picture of Alastor and Charlie seated together at Dazzle’s statue in front of the hotel, their lips locked in an unmistakable and completely unbusinesslike kiss.

“Oh shit,” Alastor agreed.