Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Author note - Welcome or welcome back, readers! Whoo, Season 2 started off with a bang, I can’t wait to see how things pan out. Thanks to everyone for the kudos, comments, and subscriptions for the last story, they are well appreciated and I hope to see your names pop up for this one as well! 

This probably goes without saying, but is a sequel to my first story “The Dealbreaker Demon.” Many things won’t make sense if you haven’t read that one, ha ha. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Hazbin Guarantee

Hell, a supernatural realm inhabited by demons either indigenous or dead humans who had their souls sent down for their misdeeds. As one can imagine, what passed as “law-and-order” was at best inconsistent, and most commonly nonexistent. But despite this, a crude hierarchy existed defined by power and fear. And in the Pride Ring, where Sinners dwelled, the name of the game was the ownership and subsequent exploitation of souls to increase the dealmaker’s influence and strength.

While conceptually both parties of the deal could take advantage of their side, more often than not the relationship was overall negative, with the dealmaker abusing their power with little restraint — and even fewer recourses for the owned soul short of the dealmaker releasing them or erasure by Exorcist angels. It made for a grim reality, to say the least. 

But one day, something extraordinary happened. Among the thousands that plummeted down from the world above, a Sinner arrived that could break such deals and take the power for themselves. Their own soul chained to a monstrous fiend, this faint ember within the shadows took to reside at the Hazbin Hotel where the Princess of Hell was trying to find a way to redeem souls. A place where their muted dullness, their grays as the world’s colors rushed by allowed them to feel hope after the betrayal they endured. 

Latching onto that promise, the fiery-haired soul led a double life: one where they took part in the Princess’s experiment, slowly opening up again and pledging themselves to the denizens, a family they chose; the other targeting abusive dealmakers, freeing the souls under their control and giving those a fresh start. Their successes — and their strength— grew, as did their notoriety with the sovereign Overlords of the Ring, all vying to eliminate or use their unique ability to their advantage. All this as the fire demon’s dealmaker tortured them, their maltreatment growing more severe as time went on. But the spark of defiance never went out.

One such Overlord, a weapons dealer by trade, came across the princess’s patient, and her and her daughter’s worlds would never be the same again. As unlikely as it might’ve seemed, the four developed a bond, grew fond of each other’s presences, and in time, the fire demon found themselves with a second new family to call their own, and they began to feel genuine happiness. But the weight of their secrets grew heavier by the day, the fear of rejection becoming suffocating, much like the smoke the royal who kept their soul bound in an iron-clad grip exuded.

The decision would ultimately be taken out of their hands as they were found out and publicly outed in the most brutal fashion, falling into a despair-filled rage and nearly razing the city in the process. But true agony was yet to come, as what they feared came to pass: the weapons dealer wouldn’t hear their pleas and apologies and cast them out, leaving the fire demon utterly destroyed and saddened.

The Princess of Hell kept them from locking their heart away forever, showing them forgiveness and compassion that bordered on saintly — much more than the Heavenly court the fire demon called out for their hypocrisy. It came time to ask for the weapons dealer’s help against the angelic legion, and when the fire demon laid eyes upon her, ruby red eyes once filled with regret, anger, and hurt were filled with love again, having missed the lost piece of her family. They were complete once more. 

Before the weapons dealer knew it, it was time for battle. And her fiery child was ready, newly freed from their oppressor and prepared to fight for all they had painstakingly found in Hell. The weapons dealer though, brimming with love but frightened of what they might do, that she might lose them, begged and prayed for them to stay with her, with her daughters. But the fire demon asked for her to have faith, promising that they’d find their way back to her, no matter what. 

Tragically, what the weapons dealer had been afraid of came to be; while the fire demon decimated hundreds of angels alongside their friends, fought hard to take down the Goetia that returned to subjugate them once again, and bravely brought down Adam the first man, they could not stay unharmed. Died, in her arms.

She and her daughters screamed, mourned, and cried for the loss of their adoptive child and sibling, resigned to carry the burden of guilt by not standing at their side in the battle from the start for forever. Until something drew her back to where her loved was laid to rest, at the newly rebuilt Hazbin Hotel. And they stood before them all, redeemed, holy and alive. Bargained their way out of Heaven, serving to keep the sinners of Hell in check. All worth it to be back in the arms of the ones they loved. A miracle in the most unlikely of places.

Carmilla Carmine’s black painted lips curled up as she flipped through the book Charlie had written for Taylor, drawings and all. Well, to give her some credit, the drawings were much better than the ones she used for… other important presentations. But in certain depictions, there were tell-tale signs of the princess’s tears, if the smudges akin to watery blooms were any indication.

She smiled into her mug when two sets of footfalls echoed down the hall.

“Good morning, mijas.” Carmilla greeted happily as the girls joined her in the kitchen.

The bespectacled demoness simply walked past her. If not for Odette’s small hum of acknowledgment, she might’ve assumed her daughter hadn’t noticed her presence. Clara shuffled over to the island.

Carmilla shook her head. Unlike herself, neither Odette nor Clara were ‘early risers,’ with both girls needing a full cup of coffee in them before they fully awoke. “Taylor prepared some breakfast, even brewed coffee for you sleepy heads.”

Finally noticing their adoptive sibling’s absence, Odette glanced around. “They’re not here?”

“Afraid not. They had business on their turf before dropping by the Hotel for the grand re-opening, remember?” She informed as she rose from her seat and gently guided her youngest to one of the open spaces. Clara let her, simply hopping onto the empty barstool before promptly leaning forward, resting her forehead on folded arms.

There was a loud, deep roar in the distance and the trio turned their gazes out the balcony windows to the horizon. A wall of fire erupted from the ground, cloaking a portion of the Pentagram in a dome of flames before it went out, an invisible wavy effect still present in the air that evidenced that a barrier was successfully in place.

Black eyebrows furrowed as Odette observed the fire demon’s work. Since coming to reside with them, it wasn’t often that Taylor left without seeing the sisters off. “Why didn’t they wake us?”

“Yeah, we would’ve gone to help them before making our deliveries.” Clara mumbled into the countertop, not bothering to move.

“Don’t worry,” Carmilla assured as she affectionately patted Clara’s white puffy hair before setting a steaming cup of coffee at her side. “I made it clear that if they needed anything, that they should let us know.”

Clara huffed as she finally sat up and pulled the coffee mug towards her. “I just wished they would let us help.”

“You know how they are.” Odette sighed as she sat by her sister. The ascended fire demon was at times on par with their mother, feeling like they needed to take everything on their own.

“Then we should be vigilant in keeping on eye on them, just like they do with us.” Carmilla explained, divvying up the food Taylor made onto three plates and setting them in front of her daughters. Only once they both lifted their silverware did she take her own seat. “It’ll be up to us to make sure we aren’t pulled apart again.”

“I mean, it’s not like we can just go on jobs with them.” Odette muttered as she pushed the eggs and potatoes around on her plate.

“Maybe you should.”

“Really?”

“Who else could I count on to watch their back? I’ll let Taylor know they should expect some highly recommended backup to accompany them.”

Clara beamed. “Yes! Thanks mom! You’re the best!”

- x -

On one block of Pentagram City, among the endless sea of city sprawl, the denizens of the Pride Ring shuffled, strolled, and scampered about.

“C’mooonnn, you can’t bail yet!” slurred a drunken demon to a group of demonesses, his similarly inebriated buddies swaying behind him with cheeky grins. The ringleader staggered forward before holding onto her arms. “There’s no place a taxi would pick you up in this part of town anyway!”

The demoness pushed him away with a roll of her eyes. “Pfft, save it! If you really gave two shits ‘bout me, you’d pay my cab fare!”

Undeterred, he stumbled closer with a leery grin. “Aw, then why don’t I book us a suite at the Jackpot? A good fuck would loosen you right up! Eh? Eh?”

Teetering back a few steps, the tipsy demon’s back collided into a solid force, knocking him to the ground.

“What the hell!? That fuckin’ hurt, man!” He called out to the form continuing down the sidewalk, stride unchanged by their collision.

His buddies didn’t take well to the demon’s unfazed reaction, chasing after them. “Yo, get your ass back here!”

But when the posse stood in front of the figure, hazy drunken eyes widened in terror.

The sloshed demon clamped a heavy hand on the stranger’s shoulder from behind. “Hey, asshole. You just gonna walk away after plowing into me like that?” When he got no answer other than a stiffening of posture, he grew more agitated. “You owe me a fuckin’ apology! Get down on your knees, punk!”

“Dude, don’t.” One of his comrades hissed, voice serious. “Not this one!”

“Huh?” The drunkard drawled, not understanding his friend’s change in demeanor.

That’s when he felt it, a buzzing sensation thrumming along this palm as the air around him grew stifling warm. The figure turned partway, and his face fell.

It was like a platinum-hued fire took on sentience, with short, cropped hair flaring upwards like gravity wasn’t a thing and two blue-toned antennae traveling from their crown to almost touch their shoulders. The slender build and facial structures were juxtaposed against their masculine tones, making for a refined appearance that floated the line between male and female, leaving him momentarily bewitched. But that quickly took a back burner to the scathing glower locked on him. Golden eyes glowed eerily against black sclerae, an almost feral look that seemed to be looking right through him, into the deepest corners of his mind.

“Oh… well, uh…” There was a tense moment as he retracted his hand, the intense stare not leaving him. “S-Sorry. I should’ve been more careful.” He uttered, trying to smooth things over. The devices and lights around the street seemed to flicker and glitch out, and he felt his hair stand on end. Oh shit. He did his best to brace for whatever was to come, now feeling fully sober.

But instead of incinerating him on the spot or doing some heinously violent thing, the fiery face started to relax. The glow in their eyes faded as did the electrical disruptions and heated atmosphere, their clenched jaw giving way to a wry grin.

“Don’t sweat it, happens to the best of us.” Taylor said with a shrug, “But I think you should call it while you’re ahead, pal.”

“Uh, yeah, sure…”

With that, Taylor turned back, the wary group parting like shoals of fish as they resumed their trek.

For the sake of keeping the peace, Taylor let slide the manhandling, seeing as the responsible party was apologetic about it. While generally apathetic toward other demon’s threats and name calling, the ascended fire demon hated being touched. If it was from a loved one or someone they trusted, it was much more tolerable — dare say they even enjoyed it — but unwanted contact was a surefire way to get on their bad side.

Shaking off the lingering tension, they decided to cut through the entertainment district to get to their destination quicker. They were already running late, the barrier they erected over their territory taking a lot out of them. As a result, they opted to hoof it to the Hotel over flying, keeping their four wings and halo hidden when out on the street to discourage any more attention they got being an Overlord — or wandering hands. Passing by the main plaza, they pressed on, not paying heed to the anglerfish demon and a clawed bag across the street headed in the same direction as the two anchors for 666 News began to air on the big screen.

“Good morning, Pentagram City!” Greeted a humanoid demon in an expressive gas mask and blonde side-swept hair.

“This is Katie Killjoy.” His counterpart said chipperly, another humanoid demoness with pale skin, a blonde bob, and bright red eyes.

“And I’m Tom Trench.”

“Bringing you the latest in Hell’s hottest news.” Katie introduced as a crude drawing of Charlie decapitating an angel appeared between the two. “Tonight’s top story: what the fuck is going on at the Hazbin Hotel?”

“That’s right, Katie. It’s been a while since Heaven attacked Hell and Charlie Morningstar and the Hazbin Hotel brutally slaughtered the invading angels and kinda-sorta saved us from the Extermination.”

Katie proceeded to kick Tom off-screen. “When you’re done sucking toes, Tom, I’d like to remind you that Heaven still hasn’t made their next move.”

When Tom achingly climbed back into frame, Katie kept eye contact with the camera as she ruthlessly crushed his hand with her fist and he fell once more. “Are they coming back for revenge, or is this yearly nightmare finally over?”

Bandaging his hand, Tom chimed in as he took his seat. “Morningstar has declined to come on the show to comment,” He gave a fake cough and muttered under his breath. “Pussy.”

Katie slammed a hand on the desk. “But we will keep asking until we break her. Because the world needs to know, Tom...”

She grabbed Tom by the collar and dragged him closer, the camera panning to her intense look. “Will she stop at angels?” She pushed Tom aside before pointing into the camera. “Are you next?” She pulled up a quieve and a cat in each hand. “Is your dog or cat next?”

She shamelessly lobbed both animals at Tom, the gas masked anchorman screaming as he was being mauled. “Will her bloodlust ever be satisfied?”

The camera zoomed in on a crazed Katie while Tom threw his assailants away and limply leaned against the desk. “Who’s at the top of Charlie Morningstar’s hit list? Maybe it’s ME!”

Katie’s eyes glowed in exaggerated fear for a beat before abruptly calming down and sitting down. “This segment brought to you by…”

The two news reporters waved their hands cheerily, speaking in unison. “VokTek! ‘Trust us with your everything!’”

- x -

“This’ll be great. I’m looking forward to getting in there and fucking up some angels.”

“I love murder. I can’t wait to kill some angels.”

Taylor leaned against the railing of the second-floor mezzanine overlooking the Sinner-filled lobby, the line going out the door. Spying the crowd, they took the long way around to get inside, needing to mentally prepare themselves before jumping into the fray, so to speak. KeeKee hovered down and walked along the railing, head poised to receive pets.

“Hey KeeKee,” Taylor sighed as they scratched the one-eyed cat’s ears, rubbing their temple with their other hand. “I’m proof that redemption is possible, but something tells me it’s going to take one hell of a pitch to get these folks on board.”

Resuming their watch, Razzle took a suitcase up the stairs as Lucifer passed the dragon-goat butler, brushing his teeth while clad in a bathrobe, duck slippers, and hair curlers. At the top of the stairs, Alastor glared between his crudely fixed staff and the crowd, Taylor narrowing their eyes in return when the two momentarily locked eyes, a silent warning to him to not try anything. They chalked his sour mood up to frustration to having Lucifer living at the hotel full-time and losing to Adam.

Casting their gaze downwards, they overheard a guest bemoaning losing their room key while Vaggie stood at the reception desk, registering guests.

“Hello and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. My name’s…” she paused for a second, thinking. “Uh, changing. For now, call me Vaggie. Have a lovely day, here’s your room key, thank you so much for staying with us.” She handed another guest a key. “Thanks for signing the guest book.” She was hit with a bit of déjà vu, voicing the sentiment to herself. “This is like being in the army.”

The former Exorcist then scowled at the empty space at the reception desk and called out to a certain deer demon. “I know you’re here, Alastor, could you help out, please?”

Teleporting through shadow, he leaned in mischievously before zipping around Vaggie. “Mm, this seems like a you problem, Vagene.”

Vaggie handed another guest a key with a smile. “Here you go.” Leaning out of reception, she narrowed her eye, asking pointedly. “And you. What happened to the whole ‘host of the hotel’ thing?”

Alastor just gave her an impish grin before teleporting away just as Vaggie was mobbed by reporters.

“Where’s Charlie? Where is Charlie Morningstar?” A horned female reporter with brown puffy hair that obscured her eyes asked. “Is it true she drinks angel blood to improve her ‘gay powers?’”

Among the crowd of potential guests, Lucifer downed a cup of coffee before Alastor appeared next to him, the two silently glaring at each other.

A monochrome cartoon character like reporter brought his camera close to Vaggie. “Is she killing off more angels? The public has a right to know.”

All the while, the squabbling intensified, Lucifer wildly swiping at Alastor as the taller demon held him away at arm’s length, much to his amusement. When the Radio Demon laughed at him, the King of Hell angrily threw a rubber duck at his face. Offended, Alastor glared scathingly before both walked or teleported away.

Back at the reception desk, a reptilian reporter with three eyes inquired further. “Is it true this hotel is recruiting a hellish army? And should I divorce my wife?”

Vaggie blinked, confused. “Um, no. What?”

Seeing that Vaggie needed a lifeline, Taylor made their way around to get Charlie, passing by the hotel bar on the way to the lounge. Poor Husk was working overtime pouring drinks for a gaggle of demons, all of whom seemed determined to get wasted on the double. He set down a tray and called out orders.

“I have three ‘Torments and Tonics,’ four ‘Virgin Sacrifice’ Piña Coladas,” the winged cat demon held up a red drink in a martini glass, unsure. “And something called a ‘Harder Daddy?’”

Having plopped himself on one of the barstools, Lucifer watched in vague disgust at the moniker before Angel Dust plucked the glass from Husk, Fat Nuggets revealed to be eating from a small bowl on the counter.

“Oh, that one’s for me. My favorite drink and life motto.” The spider downed the cocktail with a satisfied cheer. “Whoo! That’s a hard daddy.”

Husk huffed, eyeing Fat Nuggets. “Angel, how about you help me serve these drinks instead of letting your pig gobble my nuts.”

Angel Dust gasped, tossing his glass aside. “Husk, don’t say it like that!” He reached over to cover his porky pet’s ears, speaking lovingly. “He’s little. Besides, I am workin’. I’m celebrity endorsin’ the hotel.” He cleared his throat, posing with his legs outstretched across the counter. “Who wants to come,” he ran his fingers up his legs to his chest fluff suggestively. “Stay at the Hazbin Hotel with me?”

The bargoers went wild.

“I love cum!”

“I-I’ve seen all his movies! I’ve jerked off to all his movies!” Cried a slug sinner, pointing excitedly to the porn star.

“Take it off!”

Annoyed, Husk walked past Angel’s adoring fans to the other end of the bar to a pink-haired cyclopean demoness sitting with a drink in hand. “Cherri, how about you? You’re part of the hotel now, right? Why don’t you help out?”

The bombshell demoness was quick to correct him. “Whoa there, pussycat. I’m,” she made air quotes. “‘Hanging’ at the hotel. I’m not staying at the hotel. Big difference. I ain’t booked a room or nothin’.”

Husk gave her a knowing look. “Sure. Anyway,” he turned his attention back to Angel Dust. “Get your pig off my bar.”

Angel Dust picked up his pet and glared at Husk, the latter smirking mirthfully. Vaggie flew over with her wings.

“Has anyone seen Charlie? Or Taylor for that matter? There are reporters here asking some fucked up questions.”

Angel Dust spoke up. “I think I saw her in the lounge.” He smiled, petting Fat Nuggets. “She’s been keeping Pentious’ little egg company.”

“Thanks.”

“Uh, when you see her, can you ask if she’s still up for the therapy session today?” Angel requested, petting a content Nuggets in his arms, mismatched eyes softening. “I’m kinda gettin’ used to talking about my feelings and junk.”

Meanwhile, Taylor arrived outside the lounge, noticing the door was slightly ajar. Their hand paused, poised inches from the handle when they heard soft sniffling on the other side. Peering through the crack in the door, their heart sank.

Charlie was with Frank the Egg Boi, sobbing on the floor in front of a shrine dedicated to Sir Pentious.

Frank pointed to a series of progressively more dramatic crying Pentious busts, explaining each in turn. “And here’s when Pentious cried after he was caught spying. And here’s when Pentious cried after you forgave him. And here’s when Pentious cried when he first lost to Cherri Bomb. And here’s when Pentious cried after telling me I’m the most handsome Egg Boi he’s ever seen.” He made an admission as he handed Charlie a tissue. “I made that one up.”

Absolutely moved, Charlie cried as she agreed with Frank. “He truly was the best of us. Or at least the most snake.”

Frank fished out a familiar-looking device, though it was severely damaged. He held it out to Charlie. “This is Pentious’ death ray. He’d want you to have it.”

Charlie sobbed harder, clutching the ray gun to her chest. “He invented the best things. Even though a lot were scary weapons that hurt people.” Her voice rose in pitch, eyes welling up again. “But we were working on that.”

Taylor lingered for a moment, then gently stepped away from the door when footsteps sounded down the hall. They left Charlie to her grief, silently wishing the blonde would have the courage to bare her heart out to someone like she had done for all of them.

Wandering down the dim corridors, the soft glow of the enchanted lanterns painting gold across the walls, their thoughts lingered on the truth.

Sir Pentious wasn’t erased after the battle on Extermination Day; he was up in Heaven, redeemed and alive — they hoped. Taylor had told everyone they were sent down to keep an eye on Hell on behalf of Heaven, but that wasn’t true. They had fled when Sera, in her fear of what their ascension would bring, for killing Adam, for possessing celestial fire, ordered that they be reincarnated. Reborn on Earth but stripped of their memories, the person they were erased from existence. The High Seraphim had called it a mercy, but it was a fate worse than Hell, in their opinion.

Worse yet, Taylor might’ve condemned Sir Pentious to the same fate. The possibility ate at their conscience, and they vowed not to let anyone know until they could find out either way for sure. For if Charlie or the others discovered that the reward for redemption was reincarnation, it’d destroy her, lead her to think she was leading her people to ultimate betrayal instead of salvation.

So they would keep Hell in line, show Heaven they had nothing to worry about so Sera would reconsider her ways in the face of real evidence. The only person who knew their secret was Lucifer, and he agreed to keep quiet for Charlie’s benefit.

Back at the lounge, Vaggie pushed open the door, her girlfriend looking up in shock. The blonde kept her back to Vaggie.

“Charlie, there you are. Did you maybe want to come down and say hi to the new guests? We could really use your help. There are reporters here and…” she noticed her girlfriend quickly cleaning herself up. “Are you okay?”

She turned and gave a strained smile, eyes slightly red-rimmed. “Uh huh. Everything is great.” She chuckled nervously when Vaggie closed the distance. “Great great. What wouldn’t everything be great?” She hugged her girlfriend as her voice grew tense. “We beat Adam, and the hotel’s packed,” she spoke quickly, voice dark and frantic. “Even though lots of people died,” she then perked up, voice back to normal. “But-but it is so great.”

Vaggie pulled back, sensing the Charlie’s distress. “Babe, I feel like you’re still processing what happened. If you want, I can handle the hotel duties, talk to those reporters?”

Charlie was aghast at the notion. “Wha…? Pfft, it’s fine. I’m perfectly calm. Calm and fine. Fine and calm.” She assured before grabbing Vaggie. “Let’s talk to those reporters. I bet they want to know all about how redemption works, just like everyone else who’s staying here, right?”

“Right. Yeah.” Vaggie replied nervously.

- x -

After sidling past a group of guests watching Niffty wiping the floor, Taylor gravitated toward Cherri Bomb staring at Sir Pentious’ memorial painting.

“Fuoco, ‘bout time ya showed up!” Angel Dust intercepted, drinks in hand. “Ready for yer grand debut?”

Taylor had buried their worries down deep, giving the spider demon a cheeky smile at his affectionate nickname for them. “Well, can’t be worse than the last one, right?”

The bar was pretty low, considering they got shot and nearly died the last time they were in front of a large audience.

“Hey, ya got us ‘round this time, plus, most folks are scared shitless of ya, the o’ so powerful Dealbreaker Demon.” He nudged them in the ribs playfully.

Chuckling lightly, the two approached the forlorn looking Cherri, Angel gently offering her a drink. “Harder daddy?”

Taking the cocktail, the cyclopean demoness sighed while pacing in front of the painting. “Why’d he do it? Why’d he just go and kill himself to save me?” Looking down at her drink, Angel and Taylor smiled, letting her vent. It was rare when she showed vulnerability.

“We were rivals. Like, all I’d ever done was as fuck with him. But he liked me?” She threw her drink down in frustration. “Why?!”

Angel Dust moved to her side. “I mean, what’s not to like? You’re kinda cool, kinda hot.”

Taylor slid to her other side. “Plus you make the most brilliant explosive contraptions anyone’s ever seen.” They added, using Pentious’ words of admiration for her.

Cherri smirked at the compliments.

“He probably liked your ‘big bombs.’” Angel teased, flicking her chest. 

Shoving him away, she chuckled. “Fuck off.” Her smile dropped, an admission slipping out. “I just wish I could see him again.”

Angel Dust and Taylor shared a knowing look before Cherri smiled in embarrassment, quickly pounding her fist into her palm. “To punch him in the face for dying and shit.”

Seeing Charlie and Vaggie coming down the stairs, Taylor waved the two off. “Well, that’s my cue. Wish me luck.”

The Princess gasped at the sheer multitude of people milling about. “Sweet baby demon spawn! There are a lot of Sinners here.”

The reporters spotted her and made a beeline over. “Oh, there she is. Hey, Charlie! Question over here. Come here. Look at me. Charlie!”

The puffy haired reporter stepped up over the clamor. “Charlie, are we at war with Heaven?”

The cartoon reporter lined up a shot. “Charlie, how many angels did you kill personally?” He leaned in with his camera. “Do they scream?”

The reptilian reporter butted in. “Hey Charlie, how do angels scream when they die? Is it like…” he gave a bird-like shriek as an example. “And should I kill my wife?”

Charlie staggered, thrown off and overwhelmed. “Vaggie, can you come, uh…?”

Her girlfriend was quick to jump in, Taylor joining her to keep the throng at bay. “Okay, people, back it up, back it up.”

Backing away to catch her breath, Charlie bumped into someone. Whirling around, a short blue-gray angler fish demon in a dark green-gray lab coat, yellow goggles, and black gloves stood hunched over with a living bag at his side.

“Oh!” Charlie yelped before laughing enthusiastically. “Hello there, I’m Charlie.” She leaned over with a jaunty arm swing. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. And what is your name?”

Recoiling slightly by her enthusiasm, the newcomer straightened out before adjusting his goggles and steepling his claws with a grin. “My name is Baxter.”

“Ooh, Baxter. That’s a fun name. Are you checking in with us?” She asked, hunching down with her hands on her knees to be at eye level with him.

Baxter clasped his hands behind his back. “I intend to, yes.”

Charlie shot up, hands cupping her cheeks in excitement. “Oh, that’s great.” She gasped and crouched down. “Aw. And look at your little lab coat. It’s very cute.” Another gasp as she leaned back, a hopeful thought coming to her. “Are you an inventor?”

Baxter sneered, clearly offended. “Don’t belittle me, woman. I am not an inventor. I am a scientist. There’s a difference.” He brought his fingers together, taking on a sinister air about him, the area darkening around him, the light of his esca illuminating his features. “Some could classify me as a… mad,” he giggled. “Scientist.”

Ignoring his previous statement, Charlie leaned back and turned away, gasping as she made connections in her head. “Pentious was an inventor.” She swiveled her head around slowly, awe in her tone. “That’s so cool. I bet you’re just like him.”

Baxter’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “If you’re referring to that pompous snake, I’d like it known I am nothing like him.”

Completely disregarding his corrections, Charlie excitedly snagged his arm and dragged Baxter to the front with the reporters.

“Hey, everyone, meet Pentious.”

“Baxter.”

Charlie tried to course correct, her embarrassment making her fluster. “Right, Baxter.” She laughed. “And you’re here to be redeemed, Pen-xter. Baxter. Sorry, sorry. Pentious-bster. Baxter.”

Each time she got his name wrong, the angler fish grew more annoyed. The reporters watched the spectacle in confusion as Vaggie facepalmed in dismay. Spotting Taylor, Charlie pulled them back to stand beside her and Baxter.

She waved her hands. “You heard it first, folks! The first redeemed sinner and the next one in line, Baxter, right here at the Hazbin Hotel!”

Here we go, Taylor thought, swallowing their nerves as the cameras turned to them. With a brilliant show of light, four silvery wings unfurled from their back and what all mistaking assumed was a necklace suddenly rose and settled overhead, the hidden halo shimmering and on full display.

A tense silence fell over the room.

“Yeah, sure buddy.” one reporter scoffed.

“Talk about thirsty for attention…” Another chimed in, unconvinced.

“I’m serious!” Taylor interjected, wings flaring. “Everyone, just listen, redemption is possible!”

“Ain’t you a shapeshifter?” Someone pointed out.

“Well, yeah… but this is how I arrived in Heaven. Halo, wings, and all. There’s nothing I changed to deceive.” Taylor insisted.

“Haven’t you bounced back from a bullet to the head? It took a whole week for my cousin to come back after you wrecked the town!” Another piped up accusingly. “I thought you up and died or some shit.”

“Yes, that happened, but—”

“Show us yer angel powers, then! Go on, shoot a holy light beam like Adam did! Make us a portal to Heaven, poser!”

“I can’t do either of those things—”

Baxter cleared his throat, adjusting his goggles haughtily. “I am here to study this fascinating concept of redemption. My hypothesis is that it’s impossible, but if it isn’t, it must be observed, documented by a qualified professional… Someone like me! Stay tuned for my findings!”

Charlie laughed awkwardly before leaning in to welcome Baxter to the Hotel. After taking his bag and giving him a key, the blonde assured that all guests were considered family. At that exact moment, an ant demon “accidentally” fell onto Angel Dust.

“Hey, perv!” He said, pushing him to the ground and clutching his front in annoyance. “Hands off the chest fluff!” Cherri angrily punted the offensive demon away, sending him flying.

Charlie promised that it was the Hazbin guarantee, mentioning that it was free.

“It’s worth the price.” Alastor commented derisively.

Husk, Cherri, and Niffty all added that the place was full of drunks, cunts, and sticky floors covered in junk. Charlie asked Baxter to not pay them mind — “no one does!” Angel interjected— or the hole in the wall Cherri blew up.

Baxter followed Charlie, the princess commended him on the choice to save his soul.

“You’ll find redemption… I really, really, hope.” She clutched her face in worry. “Cause if I can’t get it right this time, then my life’s a fuckin’ joke.”

Gripping the mantle of the hearth, she slumped down and tearily gazed up at Pentious’ painting, her anxiety reaching its peak. “And my friend died for no reason and I’m never gonna cope from watching him get fucking murdered right in front of me!”

Baxter’s eyebrow quirked. “What?”

Snapping back from her spiraling, she cheerily showed off the bar, Baxter refusing a drink from an intensely smiling Charlie. Vaggie flew down and picked her up, angel and demoness declaring that all could live in harmony — just as Husk shoved a guest off the bar, snarling that no, he couldn’t make a Mai Tai.

Bringing the other guests into the number, Charlie got everyone clapping, having all repeat affirmations of checking in, of seeking guidance for their reckoning, and to never turn to violence!

As Charlie continued her reprise, Taylor noted with dismay that guests began walking out, muttering that the place was lame or sucked ass. By the end of her song, most had left, the reporters and Baxter still around.

The news-hawks were quick to surround the Princess, going back to getting their big scoops.

“Ms. Morningstar, Ms. Morningstar, over here. When will you launch your next attack on the angels?”

“What do dead angels smell like?”

The reptilian reporter chimed in. “Are all the sinners here part of your anti-angel army? I killed my wife!”

Charlie shook her head, taken aback. “What? N-No. No. They’re here to be redeemed. Didn’t you hear the song?”

Vaggie stepped in, looking pointedly at the remaining guests. “Are any of you here for redemption?”

The answers weren’t reassuring.

“I thought this hotel was where we came to kill angels.”

“Yeah, who cares about redemption?” A tree demoness rolled her eyes. “That sounds like work.”

Charlie grew unnerved. “No. I-I know angels aren’t like, the best, but we shouldn’t kill them. We need to be better than them, right?”

She got no answer, the crowd’s attention homing on something else. “Oh, my God!”

Niffty sat on a table, covered in the dead rat blood, the little housekeeper looking up as she continued to stab the thing with her knife.

“Look, it’s Niffty, the Adam slayer!”

“Stab. Stab, stab, stab, stab, stab.” She continued puncturing the rodent, expression unchanged.

“Wait a mo… that’s the ‘I want a word’ Dealbreaker, the Adam destroyer! You’re on the posters!”

“Posters?” Taylor asked as the mob suddenly surrounded those responsible for felling the first man.

“Oh, I get it now! You’re wearing the wings of your enemies!” Someone grabbed one of their wings, shaking it experimentally.

Taylor bristled, snapping their head to the offender. “Hands off or you’ll lose that.”

“Niffty, can I get your autograph?”

“Don’t tell me you dug yourself out of your own grave? That’s so sick!” Another reached for their halo and they recoiled back, jaw clenching tighter.

You can’t hurt them, they’re guests. Think of Charlie, think of Charlie, Taylor thought, becoming hyperaware of the twitch of fingers, the scrape of fabric against their skin, the pricking shock of the hair on the back of their neck standing up.

“Niffty, will you stab me? Someone get a picture of her stabbing me.” The housekeeper complied, much to the fan’s relief.

Charlie moved in, trying to get the rabble to hear her out. “No, no, Niffty and Taylor were acting in self-defense. We shouldn’t celebrate what they had to do.”

Ignoring her, the guests lifted Niffty and Taylor in the air, repeatedly throwing the two up and down and chanting their names enthusiastically.

Niffty laughed at the novelty. “I like being touched.”

“Well, I don’t!” Taylor gritted out, their aversion reaching their limit and they disappeared in a plume of flames, the crowd crying out before a round of awws of disappointment could be heard.

Angel Dust, Cherri, Husk, and Alastor looked to the side as Taylor manifested upon the farthest barstool, leaning against the counter too stiffly to seem truly relaxed. They didn’t even react to Alastor sadistically chuckling at their discomfort.

“Husk,” Their voice was gravely and distorted, one hand rubbing the back of their neck to stop the sensation of their skin crawling. “Peach whiskey… please.”

“I gotcha covered, kid.” Replied the grizzled bartender, pouring shots for everyone after sliding one glass down the counter.

Charlie tried to raise her voice over the clamor. “No, stop touching her! They brought the fight to us. We had to defend ourselves. I never wanted to… I wouldn’t… That’s not what—”

Her words fell on deaf ears as a crowd surfing Niffty laughed while the chanting kept going strong.

“Kill angels! Kill angels! Kill angels! Kill angels!”

Seeing Charlie in a vulnerable state, the reporters went in to wear her down, throwing more questions her way.

“Charlie, is this now officially the Angel Killer Hotel?”

“Charlie, have all your staff killed angels?”

The three-eyed reptile demon from before jumped in. “Charlie, do you have to be a cannibal to sign up for the Angel Kling Army Hotel? And I regret killing my wife…”

Charlie stammered, overwhelmed by the ruckus. “W-we, uh, accept cannibals. I, uhm…”

Vaggie pushed her way to her beleaguered girlfriend. “Charlie, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m — I’m fine, uh, I-I just…” she uttered nervously, trying to find her bearings in the tumult.

From his spot on the bar countertop, Angel Dust switched his worried gaze between Charlie and Taylor.

“Aw man, Charlie ain’t looking too good under pressure.”

Husk whirled on Alastor in annoyance. “Shouldn’t you help her?”

The Radio Demon tilted his head impishly. “Should I? Perhaps. Will I? No. Do I enjoy being difficult?” He turned his head 180 degrees squarely at Charlie, his eyes turning into radio dials as the area around him darkened. “Most definitely.”

Amidst the insanity going on around her, Lucifer appeared in a puff of red smoke at her side, surprising Charlie.

“Poof! Here I am.” He checked himself. “Did I do that right? There we—” He wrapped an arm around his daughter and pulled her close. “Hey, don’t worry, Charlie, someone,” he shot a triumphant grin at Alastor. “Important is here to help.” He cleared his throat and gasped dramatically. “OH, SHIT!” He pointed to nothing. “What’s that?!”

The two vanished in another cloud of red smoke, leaving behind a small rubber duck with a red bow tie and white top hat in their wake.

The reptilian reporter was bewildered. “Huh? Where’d they go? They were just here.”

“It’s a fucking duck! He tricked us!” Another said, upset at being duped.

Taylor gulped down the drink, the burn helping to center them. Lucifer was right when he called Hell a circus.

Chapter Text

Author note - Welcome back readers! Thanks to kudos from Mec2009, Bellzuh, woebegone_creature, Patroclus505, and GeekyGirl183, glad to have your support!

I think the most challenging thing about this story is going to be the crunched down timeline. From the look of it, episodes 1 and 3 take place on the same day and episode 4 is only a week later. But I’ll find a way to fit in Taylor’s side stories somehow. Now, onwards!

Chapter 2 - Trust Us

In a dark blue office with a towering aquarium, posters, and various products lining the shelves, an exit-meeting was taking place. 

“Now they’re sick of you ‘cause they’ve seen way too much.” Velvette berated callously, a wall of hate comments encircling the Vee’s latest project. “But we’ll still get the clicks from souls who hate you.” Just then, the overwhelming consensus of said starlet being cancelled was emblazoned on screen.

“Scratch that, they changed the channel. And we can’t sell the scandal.” Vox swiveled around in his office chair with a smug shrug, unfazed by the tear-stricken face of the orange-eyes sinner no longer bringing in the clicks. “Hope you had fun, but we are done with you. Your run is canceled.”

Hearing the blubbering and pleading begin, he glanced over from his paperwork with an annoyed scowl. “We’re finished, I’m not kidding. Get the fuck out of my building.” Not even giving her the chance, he lunged out of his chair, his face broadcasting across a multitude of screens, toppling the Sinner over in her surprise.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BUILDING!”

As Val and Velvette made sure the door hit her on the way out, he chuckled derisively in his seat. A sucker dropped every minute in Hell and he was going to squeeze every drop of money and heightened influence out of them. As a perk, the princess’s hotel was practically gift-wrapping the hapless souls onto his doorstep.

Because no one could deny the redemption shtick was boring, with any sinner with half a brain biting at the bit to turn to a more rewarding vocation. Because in this game, no one could outdo or outbuzz the Vees. And all anyone had to do was trust them.

“Trust me, just me.” He said ominously before his compatriots stared pointedly his way, and he quickly corrected himself. “Us. No, I—I meant to say us!”

“Uh-huh.” Velvette said with a roll of her eyes at the same time as Valentino uttered. “Yeah, okay.”

Whoops, he chastised himself silently. He needed to be careful or his grand plan would dismantle before it even got off the ground.

The hotel had thrown more than just a wrench into Hell’s carefully balanced chaos; it has sparked something bigger. Something far more dangerous, and the Vees were poised to take advantage of the situation, ride the wave of the hotel’s disruption to the very top, and the idea sent a thrill through Vox’s circuits, one that made his skin prickle with excitement.

And everything he needed was in the hotel, primed for the taking…

- x -

Charlie heaved a sigh of relief when she and Lucifer appeared in his room. “Wow. Thanks for escape, Dad.” Lucifer stood up a little taller at his daughter’s words, pleased to be of help. “Ugh, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Moving over to a bookcase, Lucifer snagged a clown nose from the shelf, trying to allay her worries as he put it on her nose. “Well, you know, your friends and your old hotel kind of died, — even if one came back — so I think you’re allowed to be a little off, sweetheart.”

Charlie gripped her head, fake nose still in place. “Yeah, but i-if I don’t snap out of it soon, people will get the wrong idea of me and the hotel and then…” she took off the bulbous sphere, needing more concrete advice. “Dad, how do you deal with all the stress of being in charge of things?”

Lucifer paused, the view panning out to his duck-filled room, the piles of plastic waterfowls trailing down the staircases and all over the place. “I don’t know. I-I just manage, somehow.”

Charlie sat on the bed, reminiscing. “Mom would know what to do. She was always so good at this. Staying calm, being the voice of the people. Being the center of attention with everyone looking to her, to follow her. Ignoring meaningless things. And people.” She sighed, a look of concern washing over her father.

He walked over, his cheery facade melting when he sat at her side, sharing her longing. “Yep. She was, uh, so good at that.”

Charlie leaned on his shoulder sadly. “Do you miss her?”

Lucifer chuckled lamentably, fingers running over his wedding band without him thinking. “Oh, yeah. Every second of every day. For the past… what was it, almost eight years?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck when his eyes turned glassy, the two royals commiserated together. “I miss her too. But she’d be proud of me, you think?” She wondered, tears beginning to spill as her greatest insecurity came forth.

Lucifer quickly placed his hands in hers, not wanting to see her so distraught. “Oh, honey. She’d be so proud of you. Are you kidding? At least, I’d hope so.” He cupped her chin tenderly. “Hey, hey, just take a deep breath, okay?” He inhaled deeply as he wiped her tears away with his thumb, his pride for her showing in his sincere expression. “The show must go on, Charlie. And you were born for this spotlight.”

She held her head up high, taking her father’s words to heart. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad. For being here.”

The two shared a heartfelt embrace, Charlie’s resolve solidifying.

- x -

Vox waited in his office; screen pressed against the massive aquarium when he spotted the outline of his prized pet.

“Who’s the best and biggest demon shark in the world?” He cooed adoringly, his breath fogging up the glass.

From the depths, a massive shark with robotic enhancements swam into view, its three enormous red eyes opening like a camera shutter to spy the TV-headed demon. Vox was delighted.

“You are. You are. You’re my little shock.wav!” He gushed, not hearing his business partners arrive until one voiced her displeasure.

“This better be important, Vox.” The fashionista took a seat, putting her feet upon the desk and going back to scrolling on her phone. “I was in a marketing meeting about which trends are worth killing over.”

Valentino wasn’t far behind, strolling in with an orange and white-skinned fish-like demoness holding tightly to the moth as he laughed.

“Oh, yeah, he likes to talk.” Valentino sat down, pulling the demoness onto his lap. He leaned in to touch his forehead to her as the latter giggled. “But you don’t have to listen, you can focus on me, baby.”

Vox butted into the conversation with an annoyed scowl. “I said to come alone, Val.” He grabbed the demoness and pulled her off his lap. “Din-dins, sharky!”

Without a second thought, he threw the screaming demoness into the tank, where she was killed and eaten by the predator of the deep in an instant.

“Hey! I was using that.” Valentino pouted, having to endure the meeting without a distraction after all.

Vox walked back around his desk, tone serious.

“I summoned you both here because we need to discuss some of your public… displays.” He turned to the backbone of the Vees. “Velvette, you can’t just fuck with Carmilla Carmine in front of other Overlords, it makes business harder.”

“Well, hey you’re lucky I didn’t skin the bitch.” She replied dismissively, looking at her nails. “She was boring.”

Turning his attention to the last of their triumvirate, he continued. “And Valentino, you cannot have footage of you hitting Angel Dust in public. It’s—” he laughed before his smile dropped with all seriousness. “No, it’s— it’s not. It’s not funny anymore.”

“When have I ever hit him?”

Vox gave an unamused look as he snapped his fingers and a montage of the moth striking Angel Dust played. Valentino just smiled shamelessly.

“You’re obsessed with me.”

Velvette was quick to call Vox out. “And what about you? You’ve been picking fights with Taylor since they hoodwinked you. Does the fucking Gala fiasco ring a bell? I lost nearly all my season’s collection thanks to your mucking things up!”

Vox’s screen flickered at the reminder of his confrontation with Dealbreaker, but he quickly brushed that aside, striding to the side of the room with hands clasped behind his back. “The point is, our brand is perfection, remember? We cannot let ourselves look weak to other Overlords or to sinners. We are above… petty bullshit.”

“Well maybe, people should start sucking less!” Velvette bit back with a grin.

“Or more.” Valentino joked, earning a chuckle from the trio.

Taking a steadying deep breath, Vox got to the meat of the meeting. “Moving on! Now as we all know, Charlie Morningstar recently proved that angels can be killed, and not just angels. The big motherfuckers. The big boys.”

Already bored, Valentino brought out a pencil and notebook and began drawing to amuse himself.

“Now obviously she’s gonna plead innocent and play the,” he moved between the two and went into a mocking impression of the princess. “‘No, we should all get along and be friends and JERK EACH OTHER OFF!’ card.” He made a lewd gestures, disgusting Velvette.

Jumping onto his desk, he held up a finger. “But I think we can spin that.” Throwing up some electricity, three screens with hand-drawn images of the hotel residents under a rainbow next to dead angels, another of enthusiastic demons holding pitchforks shouting Vox’s name, and the last with Vox standing at the pearly gates of Heaven, flipping it off as the angels stared in wonderment and demons rejoiced (with Val and Velvette in the corner, along with his pet shark.) “I think we can use the hotel’s reputation and Hell’s renewed hope and start a Hell-wide uprising against Heaven! With us at the top, hah?!” He laid out with gusto, waiting for the two’s reactions.

Valentino looked up from his sexy doodling of Vox in confusion, clearly not having paid full attention. “Ugh, I know you won’t believe this but I don’t understand.”

Vox slumped at the knucklehead before him and groaned. “Okay, from the top.” He reached over to Val, gently pulling the notebook away. “And… I’ll try to go slow.”

- x -

Charlie stood in her room, seeking one more person to confide in. She hit the call button.

“Come on, mom. Pick up, pick up.” She pleaded as the phone rang. But instead of Lilith’s soothing tones, the now familiar automated voice picked up.

“The account holder on this line is unavailable. Or they’re avoiding you. Leave a message.”

With the beep, Charlie spoke into the phone, like she’d done so many times before. “Hey, Mom, it’s me. Again. I’m… I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m so overwhelmed right now.” She moved to the window, looking up to the Heaven and Hell moons in worry. “Look, the hotel is full, which is great, but the sinners are here for the wrong reasons. They want to kill angels, which is the opposite of what I stand for, a-and I know you wanted demons to be empowered, but this is…” She held her head. “This is the wrong way, and I’ve love some… advice, maybe, if you have time, um… yeah.”

Charlie gave a short breath as she sat down on the couch, trying to find something positive to report. “Anyway… uh, me and Dad are talking again.” She chuckled softly, gazing back at her reflection over the hellish cityscape. “He’s not so bad, and he… he misses you. So… just give me a call back. I really need you. Uh, I love you. Bye.” She finished, legs curled up to her chest as she sat there, dispirited.

Downstairs, demons were still milling about, awaiting answers to their questions. “Ooh, that’s an icon.” “Hey, did you hear I killed my wife?” “Ooh, that’s an icon. Yeah, it’s front-page news.”

At the bar, the Hazbin crew sat around, nursing their drinks as Vaggie threw out some options.

“What about ‘Vagamalala’ for a new name?”

“Sounds offensive.” Angel Dust said frankly.

“Maybe ‘Vagelia?’”

“Why are you changing your name again? What’s wrong with ‘Vaggie?’” Cherri inquired, not seeing the problem.

“Because Adam gave me that name, and it’s demeaning. I feel like I got to give myself one, you know?” She explained. “How about ‘Vagison?’”

Husk cleaned a glass and put in his two cents. “Maybe you should lose the ‘vag’ part of these names?”

“I’m trying, okay?!” She snapped, the stress of it all getting to her.

“Speaking of that douchebag,” Angel Dust drawled. “If Adam’s the leader of the Exorcists, I guess it’s kinda lucky we ain’t on the radar of any of Heaven’s heavy hitters — like, ah… Michael.”

Taylor tensed at the mention of the name, unbidden memories flaring sharp under their ribs.

“You’re an aberration, a cosmic anomaly. The least you can do is be of use and keep the Hellspawn population under control…”

A heavy thump of six wings and a handsome porcelain face lacking the rosy cheeks they’d come to associate with his twin loomed over them, ice-blue eyes hardened as a fiery blade flashed in the light.

“You’re done… the forges will be thrilled to have you back.”

They resumed petting Fat Nuggets, quickly forcing the reaction down. Luckily, Taylor hadn’t had the displeasure of seeing the Archangel the last time they were up there — they might not be back in Hell if that was the case.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Husk grumbled, swirling the liquor in his glass. “This place, what the Princess pulled off here, it’s gonna catch Heaven’s attention sooner than later. And not in the way we hope. Adam was just the first bullet fired at us. Even if the angels play nice, that lieutenant of his will be hungry for revenge…”

“Yeah,” Angel Dust conceded. “That bitch was lookin’ unhinged.”

Unhinged indeed, Taylor thought when they looked over to Charlie striding down the steps with confidence.

“Everyone, listen up!” The crowd gasped at her return. “Reporters, dinners, friends. I have an announcement to make.”

The reporters were on tenterhooks. “Charlie! Charlie! Over here! She’s back! She’s back!”

The princess cleared her throat. “This is the Hazbin Hotel. We do not kill angels here. So, everyone who isn’t here to be redeemed… please leave now.” She said sternly, pointing to the door and making her intentions clear.

There were confused murmurs. “Is that it?”

Charlie continued, casting her look to everyone to appeal to their better natures. “You have all gotten the wrong idea. The Hazbin Hotel is a place of peace. But I believe in every sinner. You all can change and be redeemed and earn your way to a better life. So, if you believe in our dream, then you are welcome to stay.” She held out her arms warmly in acceptance for interested parties.

There was a beat of silence before the mob left as a unit, uttering their disappointment at the outcome. “Absolutely not.” “Well, back to wherever reporters go.”

Husk growled as he gazed at the retreating forms. “None of these people paid their tab.”

Upon seeing all the sinners leaving her hotel, Charlie’s shoulders slumped. Vaggie was at her girlfriend’s side in a flash. “For what it’s worth, babe, that was a good speech.”

“They’ll understand eventually.” The blonde sighed, looking loving at Vaggie. “Thank you.”

Baxter cut in, writing furiously in his notebook. “I suspect that this endeavor will end in spectacular failure.” He chuckled to himself. “Which will make for a thrilling research essay.”

“Hello?” Taylor interjected, gesturing to themselves. “And what am I? What do I got to do, bleed?”

“Why didn’t you?” Angel Dust wondered.

Golden eyes bugged out, realizing too late that they should’ve gone with that when the reporters were around. They gripped their head in exasperation, wings drooping as Angel Dust and Cherri good-naturedly punched their arms for their error.

Baxter narrowed his eyes at the purported redeemed soul, unconvinced. “Hmm, I have my doubts.”

Charlie gave a strained smile, trying to find the positive in the new guest’s arrival. “Uh, well, we’re happy to have someone like you here to document all this. Welcome to the hotel, Baxter.”

The angler fish blinked up at her, his esca glowing a bit brighter at the sentiment before shaking it off. In the middle of the room, Niffty had a question.

“So, is he, like, the new Pentious?”

The hotel residents were all in agreement on one thing.

“NO!!”

- x -

Vox pointed to a graph, finishing up explaining his plan in detail. “And when this baby reaches the top, bam!” He laughed triumphantly. “And that’s how we’d rule Heaven. Any questions?”

Valentino shrugged. “Okay, but, like, I don’t get it. Why do we even need to rule Heaven? How would we, like, get up there?”

Vox waved off his concerns. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, Val. Let me tell you a story. Back on Earth, when I was alive, I was the leader of a,” he gave a smug breath. “Very influential group.”

“You mean the cult?” Valentino clarified.

The TV-headed man moved back to his deck, taking a seat and steepling his fingers as he reminisced. “You could call it a cult. But I’d say it was more of a movement. And I was the center of it, and I swear I’d never felt closer to being a god.” His screen flickered, his hypnotic eye coming online at the memory. “That’s a feeling that I’d give anything to get back. And a feeling I’d love to share with both of you.” Climbing onto his desk, electricity danced along his fingertips in excitement. “We have the chance to be more than Overlords. We have the chance to be… GODS!”

Electricity flew up into the air before forming a teal V, the other two’s interest piqued.

The lights dimmed and a piano rose from an underground panel behind them, Vox seated and at the keys.

“It’s not what Heaven is, it’s what it could be.” He gestured to his partners. “With new management in charge like you, and you, and me. Once we get up there and snag that angelic throne, our unholy trinity could make their realm our own!”

His face grew sadistic, pounding away at the keys as he could just picture it. “Once we get up there, up to the Promised Land, a hundred billion souls await our every command.” He gazed down at a miniaturized pit of the infernal realm, smiling evilly. “We’re the biggest fish in Hell, how ‘bout we upgrade the bowl? It’s time for growth, let’s rule them both! Take total control!”

Wrapping his arms around their shoulders, Vox appealed to the other media Overlord’s priorities. “Think of all your dreams that could come true.”

“Even the wet ones?” Valentino posited.

“Yeah, those too! Imagine what it could enable!” Spinning away, Vox held his fist up high.

“For my label!” Velvette chimed in, seeing the merit of the plan now.

Climbing up a set of steps backwards, electrical constructs of Exorcists appeared, all genuflecting to Vox. “Yes! A Heavenly host that bows to none but us!”

Valentino’s smoke snagged one Exorcist, the moth whirling it around before lewdly bringing its face to his crotch. “I can have hot new angel sluts!”

Velvette cut in, holding up a construct’s wings before twirling, a new feathery gown on her person. “Tear off their wings and make ‘em dresses!”

Each Vee sang in turn, seeing the promise of the plan now as each step brought them higher and higher the proverbial ladder.

“And what’s best is…”

“That dumb princess showed us the way!”

“To make those haloed cabrónas pay!”

Vox stepped down, arms outstretched. “And once were gods, I can’t wait to say…”

The TV demon was in the streets of Hell, larger than life and staring malevolently down at the tiny demons at his feet. “TO EVERYONE WHO DOUBTED ME, YOUR DOUBTING DAYS ARE DONE!” He raked a claw across the ground, sending fire shooting up from the traveling cracks before destroying a mass of powerless souls. “YOU’LL BE CORNERED, TRAPPED AND TORTURED THEN I’LL END YOU, JUST FOR FUN!”

Back in the office, Vox had three pedestals rise, the two other Vees harmonizing with him as the trio reached new heights.

“Once we get up there, the shining kingdom of God. No more petty squabbles with the dead as we stroll the golden promenade.”

Dancing with linked arms, the media moguls sang jauntily. “What’s an Overlord to a deity? They ain’t got a prayer!”

Velvette’s platform flew away, the demoness extending a hand gracefully. “It’ll be so nice in paradise!”

Valentino held up a challenging fist in anticipation as his platform made an arc. “With a splash of vice, they’ll pay the price!”

The three were reunited, the ceiling opening up to a view of the Heaven moon up above. “We’ll rule the sky from up on high! Once we get up there!”

Vox laughed triumphantly with his friends. “They’re FUCKED!”

- x -

Taylor followed Vaggie as the two found Charlie gazing forlornly out her balcony.

“Hey.” Vaggie greeted, leaning against the railing at her side.

“Thought you’d want some company after all that craziness.” Taylor offered, settling on her other side.

“Hey.” Charlie answered in turn, smile inching up at the sentiment.

Vaggie tilted her head to the blonde. “What do you think about ‘Vanessa?’”

Charlie shrugged. “Uh, it’s not bad, but, eh, it’s not as unique.” Realizing she wasn’t being supportive, she quickly corrected. “But if you like it, then I-I love it.”

Vaggie sighed. “I don’t.”

Charlie tried to make her feel better. “You’ll come up with a good one.”

Recognizing someone putting up a strong front, Taylor reached over to squeeze her hand. “Charlie, I know you’re supposed to be the face of the Hotel, the heart of the place and all that, but I’m worried about you.”

“We all are. Babe, you need someone to talk to about what’s going on. Let us help you.” Vaggie pleaded before Charlie gave in with a glassy-eyed sigh.

“I think what makes me saddest is that none of us got to say goodbye.” Gripping her head, she slid down to the ground in frustration. “Ugh, I wish I could just stop the feelings and just do what I need to do, I just can’t…”

Vaggie shook her head as she knelt down. “The feelings are important. You’re allowed to feel them. How about you just… let me take on more of the hotel stuff until you’re ready?”

Taylor joined them, crouching down at her side. “Give yourself some grace, there’s no big rush to this. We’re swimming in uncharted waters here, after all.”

“But Mom would’ve—” Charlie began, only to be cut off.

“Honestly, Charlie, we don’t need your mom right now.” When her eyes widened in mild shock, they chuckled. “You managed to do something amazing, despite the odds and naysayers around you. The folks here believe in you, even if you don’t believe in yourself right now.” They gave her a soft smile. “So, let us do the heavy lifting until you sort things out. The best thing right now is to not do anything drastic that we’d end up regretting later.”

Charlie’s heart swelled with warmth like a blanket of support had wrapped itself around her. “Really? Okay. Okay, thanks.” She looked to Vaggie with relief, her girlfriend nodding assuredly. “Then, for now, the hotel is yours.”

Taylor’s satisfaction at seeing her in better spirits was interrupted when their eyes flashed, the barrier on their turf activating. Getting to their feet, they looked to the two hoteliers. “I gotta pop over and take care of something. Vaggie, I’m counting on you to keep this one,” they indicated to Charlie with a playful wink. “Calm and out of trouble until I get back.”

The two chucked humorously as Taylor unfurled their wings, taking to the air. “We’ll do some mock interviews later so you’ll be better prepared for the barrage of fucked up questions next time!”

After waving them off, the two retreated indoors and Vaggie put forward another option. “What do you think about the name ‘Vazzie?’” She flexed her bicep. “Sounds cool and tough, right?”

Charlie gave her an unsure look. “Uh…?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep workshopping.”

“Yeah.” The blonde replied, gratefully leaning into her lover’s hold. Some relaxation was just what she needed, a moment to cool her head.

 - x -

Much to Vaggie’s reluctance, she and Charlie were plonked in front of the hotel lounge’s television, the news coming on.

Katie read the headline with a sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face. “Our new top, top story: Charlie Morningstar, Hell’s greatest threat.”

A hand-drawn image of Charlie kissing an Exorcist angel showed up.

“That’s right, Katie.” Tom Trench leaned into the desk with a look of disapproval. “Our recent reports from the Hazbin Hotel tell us that Morningstar demanded all demons seeking retribution for the Exterminations to ‘get out’ on threat of death.”

Another hand-drawn image of an evil looking Charlie sitting on a throne, pointing demons out the door while her equally malevolent friends were drawn at her side. Katie shook her head in mock despair.

“It seems Morningstar has no desire to build an army for demons who want to fight back, and instead, wants to create a hostile environment where she forces sinners to change and fit into her restrictive puritanical mold. Scary stuff.”

Tom concurred. “I know I’m scared. And everyone else should be too.”

“In other news.” Katie informed. “Hell’s powerful threesome of VoxTek, the Vees, are now offering sanctuary for all those affected by Charlie Morningstar’s actions.”

Between the news-hawkers was a clip of the Vees welcoming Hell’s residents, with Vox comforting a child before giving a thumbs up to the camera as his hypnotic eye swirled.

Vaggie turned off the television, seeing how it bothered her girlfriend. “Told you. Don’t listen to those chuckle fucks.”

Eyes still crimson, Charlie was too angered to even get the words out. “What are they… How are they… What, I don’t…” Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself down as she exhaled. “You’re right.”

Getting up from her spot, the former Exorcist brushed off the report. “I’m sure this’ll be old news in a week. But for now, I’m getting you a Harder Daddy.”

Stepping out, Charlie recoiled when a bubbly, bright periwinkle portal suddenly appeared in the lounge. Not a moment later, a familiar seraphim popped half way out with a beaming smile. “CHARLIE!”

“Emily?!”

She spoke a mile a minute. “Sorry, I don’t have much time. Heaven’s going into lockdown ‘cause, you know, Adam was killed,” the angel I clasped her hands, a bubble appearing and floated between the two. “But now Sera is worried about Hell wanting revenge, and Heaven doesn’t want any more death,”

Charlie could only stare in stunned disbelief at what she was listening to.

“… but is really scared of what’s going to happen next. Anyway, long story short, Pentious and Taylor were redeemed and they’re in Heaven now, YAY!” She shook her hands in jubilant excitement. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back again as soon as I can, but yes, your hotel totally works. Congratulations! Bye!”

Charlie sat stupefied as the seraphim flew back through the portal, returning to Heaven. The bubble popped in the princess’s face before she screamed.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Chapter Text

Author note - Welcome back, readers! With six of the second season’s eight episodes already out, I finally feel like I got the elements for how this story will ultimately play out (though I am curious to see how the season will resolve itself!). Thank you for the half dozen kudos and comments for this story, I enjoy hearing your thoughts!

As a strange aside, I am opening up any suggestions for unique locations for Taylor to work out of. I’ve already done three clubs, a cabaret, a gambling hall, a fighting arena, around the Vee tower, and an office building. I could always do a repeat, but if someone knows of someplace in Hell that could be fun, drop me a message! Thanks in advance.

Now, onward!

Chapter 3: Voices in My Head

A swing and a crack, flames receding as a chunk of flesh was ripped away.

A clammy, shuddering sense of dread as blood poured out of them, hot and wet and stinking, soaking through the remains of their tattered shirt.

The psycho can’t win; they reminded themselves. My skin doesn’t matter. The blood and pain don’t matter. Just hold out. Just a little longer. That matters.

And then what held them upright was gone. Each breath sent sharp pain through their body as they laid there, bile burning the back of their throat.

“Was it too much for you?”

Their vision sharpened, falling on the orange and black monster kneeling over them, looking pleased with themselves.

“You brought this on yourself you know. Andrealphus is going to pitch a fit at the mess you’re making.” They tutted in false concern at their mangled state. “But alas, you sinners are fragile little things, aren’t you?”

It was all they could do to stare at the overgrown feather duster, eyes narrowing in stubborn defiance. Their lips were numb as they tried and failed to form words.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Phenex purred, tilting their head expectantly as everything began to blur. When their head lolled uselessly onto the sumptuous rug, crimson eyes flashed sadistically. “You should know better than to keep me waiting, little one...”

Taylor awoke with a start, magic crackling down their spine as a protective circle of yellow light glowed around them.

Exits: one, two counting the window. Wards: several. Injuries: none. Hostiles—

They froze when they became aware of something touching them, something with a distinct scaliness, the heartbeat of something organic. Their skin crawled, mind screaming at the wrongness of the sensation, the intrusion, the violation as their hair began to glow and undulate like a dancing flame as they looked down to see —

Sir Pentious.

The tension drained out of them at once. Not a threat or interloper. Just the sleeping form of their friend and fellow prisoner, tucked under their arm, his larger frame curled against them, tongue occasionally sticking out when he breathed deeply.

Taylor had to suppress a laugh. In their defense, they’d unexpectedly fallen asleep on the couch and without company for that matter. Still, they couldn’t help but feel a little silly at their momentary abundance of caution, given the identity of the one who laid nestled against them.

“Were you keeping an eye out for me, Pen?” They murmured, a trickle of amusement running through them.

They squinted against the glare of the first rays of Heaven’s dawn streaming into their room as they shifted in their seat and disentangled themselves from him. While Pentious’ touch was easier to tolerate, less stress-inducing, they still had their limits.

“Mmm.” The snake’s brows furrowed as he tried to find them to burrow closer, his body lightly shivering when he was met with air.

“Too cold, eh? Not a problem…” The fiery angel brought a cushion close and he wrapped his arms around it. Conjuring an image of a warm hearth, of toasty rays emanating from a heat lamp like in his old room, they sent the warmth filtering out from their core into the pillow. Taylor felt a spark of satisfaction as Pentious let out a small sigh in response, the corners of his fanged mouth turning every so slightly as he curled into his new heat pack.

“There we go.” Taylor stood, taking a moment to readjust their shirt, pausing when there was no need to smooth out the creases in their sleeves — were wrinkles not a thing in Heaven? Stretching out their wings while striding to the bathroom, they wondered if they were finally gonna make some progress in getting them and Pentious back to Hell.

Before they could curl their hands around the door handle, a blinding light overtook them and they vanished from the room.

- x -

“Oh, dear… this is worrisome.”

Sir Pentious tried to put up a brave face, but his many eyes darted in fear, the gleaming chains around his wrists and neck adding to his trepidation.

The snake stood in the center of a dome-like platform at the base of a vast, cavernous chamber of orange and gold. Around him, all kinds of angels bickered, clamored, and debated in the seats high above him.

“Sera, what do you plan on doing about this?”

The gaggle of angels leaned against the railing, forgoing decorum to get a glimpse of the newcomer and High Seraphim.

“Nothing like this has happened before!”

Hoping to find a familiar face, Sir Pentious’ eyes darted around. On either side of golden and white balcony sat three figures in round golden seats. Saint Peter and a blonde, fair-skinned chubby angel in a pale-yellow marching band attire on one end, the other a glowering Lute, arms crossed across her chest with her Exorcist mask on. Under the gaze of giant sets of decorative sky-blue eyes above her, Sera tensely gripped the edge of the balcony.

Emily flew up and held up a hand, trying to calm everyone down. “We shouldn’t be worried about this! We should be making things right!”

While the angels chatted worriedly, Lute drummed her fingers along her golden prosthetic arm. Around her wrist, Adam’s halo glowed like a bracelet, and in her annoyance, she left indentations the surface of the metallic arm.

Sera appeared overwhelmed by the pressure, head bowed down as her mind raced.

“We need to make things right. We need to go down and talk to Charlie!” Emily urged the crowd, but it seemed the convened had more pressing concerns.

“What is the meaning of this, Sera?” Asked an red-robed angel with rings and eyes for a head.

“You commanded an Extermination in Hell and kept it from us?” Said a teal insect-like angel in disbelief. “How long has this been going on?”

Sera said nothing, sweat beading her brow.

Emily swept her arm out. “The exterminations have always been wrong. We bear some of that responsibility.”

A lavender ribbon angel, constellations lining the inside of their hood, spoke. “Now the demons have managed to kill the leader of our army? What if Hell wants vengeance on us now?”

“Will the Morningstar return?” Asked a purple and orange angel with a horned visor. “The forges are out; how will we defend ourselves?”

The very idea sent one angel over the edge; the being left a stuttering and babbling mess as red flames surged around its head. “Well— what was it? I don’t… Adam? But dead? Should be— I don’t know, really...”

A sceptered angel inquired. “Sinners have made it to Heaven? How is this possible?”

Sera folded her wings around herself in embarrassment.

“Was this redemption?” Asked a one-eyed angel.

“Sera, you told us that souls were decided, that nothing could change that. We trusted your word that this could never happen!”

“It can’t.” Sera insisted, spreading her wings out and standing tall with a fierce look in her eyes. “You, demon. How did you get here?”

Sir Pentious stuttered under the judgmental glares, not sure himself. “I, um… I-I-I don’t—”

Where was Taylor, he wondered. His friend was so good at handling the harsh questions, the looks of distrust, shielding him from the worst of it. He wasn’t strong, intelligent, fearless, or disciplined like they were. He was loud and obnoxious, unlike his friend who enjoyed things with grace. Commanded attention by their very presence while standing in the back of the room. What he wouldn’t give to have Taylor here to help now…

“How did you get here?!” Sera demanded. “You had to have forced your way in! Was it the Morningstar’s doing? How did you get past the gate?”

Emily saw her sister’s obstinance and reached out to offer a calming hand, but the smaller angel recoiled when she whirled her attention on another.

“Peter,” Sera called out. “Did you let him in?”

Startled at being brought into the conversation, the pale-skinned angel squinted at the snake, unsure. “Uh….” He held up his hands at Sera’s narrowed stare. “I swear to the Speaker, I did not let him in.”

“Sera,” Emily placed a hand on her arm. “He didn’t force his way in. We both saw it.” She gently shook her, excitement growing. “He ascended! He was redeemed, just like—”

“Don’t.” She slapped her arm away. “Don’t say it, Emily. Please. We need…”

Rubbing her temple as she struggled, Emily was quick to clasp her hand in her own, giving her sister a comforting look. Sera sighed.

“We need answers.” The High Seraphim declared with determination.

Lute’s grip tightened around her bicep. “We don’t need answers, we need action. He killed Adam.”

“Actually, uh…” Sir Pentious held up a claw. “Adam killed me. It was my friend—”

“Silence, scum!” Lute snarled. “That’s an act of war. We need to go down and—”

“Lute. Silence.” Sera commanded, cutting her off.

Not backing down, Lute stood and indicated to the hallowed ground. “This is the room of the Speaker, and I will use my voice. With all due respect, Seraphim, I was right about them. Adam was right about them.”

She pointed to Sir Pentious. “This demon filth can’t be trusted. He and his kind should all be dead, and I will make that happen.” She unsheathed her sword. “Just let me—”

“Hi,” Said a laid-back voice. “Can I cut in?”

The golden-winged angel beside Saint Peter rose with a modest wave. “Uh, hi. Hello. Abel here, son of Adam. Rest in peace.” He made a cross motion over his chest before clasping his hands in front of him. “Um, as much as I’d like to honor my dearly departed dad, I-I really just wanted to say—”

“Shut up, Abel. Adam didn’t even fucking like you.” Lute bit back scathingly.

“I know…” He sighed dejectedly before perking up. “But facts aside, I think it might be good to stay on the subject of this… colorful snake sinner.”

“Yeah, this is about Sir Pentious and Taylor.” Emily concurred. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Fine,” Sera said tensely, brushing aside her question. Rising into the air, eyes appeared over her hair and wings, a large white one opening on her chest. Along her tiara, five eyes were visible now in a menacing display.

“Tell us. How did you get here, demon?!”

Instinctually, Sir Pentious hissed back, his constraints preventing him from doing anything more. Emily shook her head, a silent plea for her sister to calm down. The younger seraphim and the others flinched as the room lit up in a warm golden light.

“Sera… calm yourself.”

The ethereal voice and golden hand landing on her shoulder forced all of Sera’s extra eyes to vanish in awe.

Looking over her shoulder with awe, a statuesque, motherly being smiled at her with glowing white eyes, long curved eyelashes and - a beak, her presence having an instant soothing effect. Her appearance resembled that of a golden phoenix, with a slender neck, a brilliant halo shaped like the sun, and six giant angel wings, indicative of her rank. Her long tresses flowed continuously, with the bottom of her golden and pink gown curling up like floating rows of scrolls.

Gliding down to Sir Pentious, the being released him from his chains and tenderly cupped the snake’s cheeks.

“My dear child, please, tell us your story.”

Transfixed by the divine entity, Sir Pentious tripped over his words. “Uh, well…” He chuckled nervously. “I-I don’t, um…” Sweat began to bead on his face. “I’m not much of a storyteller, you know, and-and I don’t, uh… maybe you’d rather, uh, ask my friend…”

She just hovered patiently for him.

“I don’t know how I got here…” he finished. “If I may, miss… who are you?”

“I am known as the Speaker of God.” She released her hold, giving him the floor. “Now, tell us your story.”

“Oh,” Sir Pentious lowered his hat with a nervous exhale. “Okay… My story? Well, I was once an inventor in London.”

The year was 1888, the view of the smog-filled cityscape shown. Now alive, a slim man with long, elbow-length raven hair eagerly moved around his workshop, bespectacled gray eyes roving over papers. Unfurling a design plan upon the table, he gleefully donned his goggles, his immaculate Victorian style attire in contrast to the disarray of the room around him.

“I was a hermit of sorts. I didn’t go out or socialize. I didn’t have friends. I had my work and my machines.”

The man grabbed a screwdriver from the toolbox set upon the windowsill and his gaze lingered, a smile forming at the sight of the crowds moving about the street, going about their lives.

“But I had a tendency to watch things. People in particular, it gave me the illusion I had people in my life. And I was fascinated by all these lives I could see. And these moments I witnessed, some moments more private than others…”

A man and woman laughed merrily as they went up from the street into their apartment before proceeding to have sex in full view. The raven-haired man gulped guiltily, trying to avert his eyes.

“… I’m rather ashamed of it now.” Sir Pentious sighed, eyes clouding over with regret as the painful part of his tale came next.

Dozing upright with his head on his fist, the man suddenly awoke when he leaned forward, catching himself before his glasses could fall to the ground. Hearing laughter outside, he moved to the window. A woman gaily spun and danced along the street ahead of her companion before continuing on her way, and the raven-haired man perched his head as he admired her with a smile.

“But on that day, I was watching a woman wandering past my workshop, a beautiful thing, young, so full of life. And then I saw…”

A long, ominous black shadow crept behind the unsuspecting woman. The man shrunk down, frozen in horror as a shadowed fiend ruthlessly stabbed the woman over and over, blood flying into the air as she screamed. She fell limply in the street, the ground drenched crimson underneath her. Dead.

“And I did nothing. I knew who did it, and I did nothing. He was a client, a man with power. I could have… I could have done something, brought this man to justice, but, I… I didn’t.”

Scrambling away from the window when the murderer looked around, the man’s back bumped into the table, nearly knocking over the gas lamp in his fright. Fingers trembling, he steadied the light source for a moment before turning it up higher and getting back to his work, the light of the flame illuminating his glasses orange, masking his eyes as the murderer walked free.

“I don’t know if it was fear or apathy, but I… I…” Sir Pentious gave a strangled sob. “That man went on to kill five more women. Five more. I still did nothing, and he was never caught.”

Back in the judgment hall, Sir Pentious put his hat back on, tears falling. “I carried that guilt to my grave, and I ended up in Hell. And I deserved it.”

Sir Pentious sobbed pitifully, the guilt of his sins laid bare for all to see. The Speaker approached and tenderly took his hand.

“And why are you here now, my child?”

“I don’t know!” He squeezed the divine being’s hand. “My friends. My friends were in danger. Cherri was in danger. I had to do something.” Despite the tears rolling down his cheeks, Sir Pentious’ look was resolute. “This time… I would do something.”

Among the hushed silence, memories from the trial with the daughter of the Morningstar came to Sera.

A seething demonic figure with four argent wings flew up to her, the shadows stretching over the walls, thousands of glowing eyes opening on the wall behind them, a collage of pupils that seemed to stare right through the high seraphim.

“You’re keeping yourself safe! Clinging to your power, turning a blind eye all because you’re afraid of falling! You didn’t do it for those ‘innocent souls’ you swore to care for and protect, you did it for you and you alone!” Taylor roared, indignation seeping their voice. “If you did truly care for everyone, you’d sacrifice your position and risk falling from grace, all for the sake of those that you’re supposed to care for, even the sinful ones that genuinely desire to change for the better! But you can’t and won’t do something so noble, because the only person you care about is YOU!”

Sera gasped, eyes widening in realization as the very same demon had returned in angelic form. And at the last second, eyes previously full of defiance looked to her with fear and betrayal as the spheres she and the other angels were launched at them — its purpose to erase them from existence.

“How many souls have you knowingly forsaken, Sera?”

“He, they… were redeemed.” Sera breathed, light swirling in her eyes.

The Speaker of God embraced Sir Pentious, pressing her forehead to the ascended snake’s. “Thank you for telling us your story, my child.”

Flabbergasted, Lute shot up from her seat.

“NO! You’re not really buying this shit? He was a spineless coward who let people be murdered, but then he attempts a murder himself and he wins a ticket to Heaven? Bullshit!”

The Speaker continued to speak soothingly to Sir Pentious. “You acted selfless, caring more for the lives of others than your own, and made the ultimate sacrifice.”

Waving her hand skyward, golden clouds reenacted scenes from the last Extermination Day: Sir Pentious charging the death ray at Adam and grabbing hold of Cherri Bomb before passionately kissing her.

“You were able to atone. You are a cleansed soul, a free soul. You have nothing left to fear here.”

Sir Pentious hugged the towering angel’s gown, overcome with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Aww, cute.” Abel smiled at the same time Saint Peter agreed. “Good vibes.”

Rising to address the attending angels, the Speaker made a proclamation. “It seems that this soul has atoned for the sins of his life, his past. He comes to us a soul who understands and was willing to overcome.” Lowering herself, she spoke to Sir Pentious. “Heaven welcomes you, Pendleton.”

- x -

A crestfallen Sir Pentious followed Emily down the street. When he and the bubbly seraphim went to Taylor’s room to give them the good news, it seemed the second redeemed soul was out. He hoped they’d return soon; having them around was the only thing making this whole experience bearable.

“ACK!” He recoiled when Emily was suddenly in his face.

“So! Sir Pentious, I know you’re new here and you had a… not-so-great first impression, but I am determined to make sure you have the best time.” She waved his hand with a smug smile. “It’s kind of what I do here. Tell me everything about yourself!”

Gazing around the golden pristine streets of Heaven, the buildings glowing with light and vibrant colors, he tried to come up with an answer.

“I, uh, well, uh, well, I, um—”

Emily gestured to a storefront with bags of sweet powder laid outside. “Do you like sugar? We have a lot of sugar here.”

“Well, um, I’ve never really tried—”

Emily conjured up a series of animals. “Or kittens? Puppies?” She held out a gray mass of fur to him. “Koalas?”

He took a step back. “Oh, I’m allergic.”

“How about pangolins?” She bent down and several golden creatures that looked like armadillos were at their feet. “They are really cute. Endangered on Earth, but so cute. We have like, literally so many here, or any animal you could want to cuddle with.” She pulled three into a hug.

He gave a strained smile. “That’s very nice, but, um… Emil-y? Is it? Emily.”

“Yes. Emily. That’s my name, yes.”

“There is one thing I really want.”

She beamed. “What is it? What is it?”

He laughed nervously in the face of her enthusiasm. “Yes, um, I really just want to see my friends. I want to know that they’re okay.”

Her smile grew strained. “Oh. Oh, they’re fine. I hope. B-But don’t worry about it.”

He clasped his hands with hope. “Can I see them?”

Her face fell. “Oh, um, well… no. I don’t think you can.” When his face crumpled, she tried to make him feel better. “You know, this… this doesn’t happen. That’s why you’re so special!”

Sir Pentious laid on the ground, growing teary-eyed. “Well, then I really want to go back and wait for Taylor. At least with them, I’m not alone again.”

She flew down to cup his cheeks. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, Pentious, I’m here for you. How about this? Let me show you around, and once Taylor gets back, you’ll have tons to tell them!”

He considered it; Taylor was just as keen as he was to return to Hell, and he couldn’t very well sit by and let his friend do all the work. Hmm, maybe if he could find some enriched uranium lying around…

Emily flew up, light gathering around her as she outreached her arms. “You’ll see, you’ll love being in Heaven!”

She whirled him around, showing off the many Winners and angels hanging out, most taking on the forms of colorful furry creatures.

“You’re gonna make so many new friends here, potential amigos around every corner.”

She waved to a group chilling in a pool, the snake ripping off a metal panel while she was distracted.

“No bullies or bums, the chums are tens here! It’ll be a breezy piece of cake.”

Sir Pentious yanked a deck chair from under another angel relaxing at the beach, then pulled out a light fixture from the cafe Emily and others partook in their sweet confections.

“To form your brand-new squad, crew, or clique. If you want some buddies, you’ll have your pick!”

Gazing back in the fast-moving car Emily drove around in, several more angels popped up in the backseat. The two then landed in a ball pit, Emily moving her arms and legs around to make an angel as Sir Pentious tore off the side of the pit.

“’Cause everyone here will like you! A special person like you!”

A skater rode up the half pipe and balanced themselves up with one hand, only for Pentious to snag her skateboard from her, sending her tumbling.

“You’re got mystique, you’re strange and uniiiiique!”

As Emily posed with her sunglasses in the mirror, the inventor tugged the security camera off its stand.

“You’ll have pals come hither, with every hiss and slither!”

Emily flew Sir Pentious over a group of Winners, a certain humanoid spider looking up in recognition. With Abel and Saint Peter accompanying them at the zoo now, Sir Pentious got a crowbar and broke the glass to the snake exhibit.

“Everyone will like you, ‘cause there’s no one just like you!”

Looking askance at the giant Sir Pentious balloon coming down the parade route, the ascended snake felt crowded as Emily, Saint Peter, and Abel leaned over in a show of camaraderie.

Singing all together, the trio showed off more of what Heaven had to offer.

“Scented candles, ponies, marshmallows, discotheques!” 

Sir Pentious stood by stiffly, not amused by any of the places he was dragged to.

“Christmas rom-coms all year long at the multi-plex!” Saint Peter boasted as they walked past various Yuletide-themed promotional posters.

Abel swooned dramatically at a snapshot of St. Nick gazing adoringly at the heroine of a movie. “I’m in love with you, Santa Clause!”

“Five stars!” The three angels declared as they all sat side-by-side in the theater before leaning over with crazed expressions to the new face. “And no one here’s addicted to crack!”

Slipping away from the intense company, Sir Pentious moved around his impromptu workshop, a light blue drill in the shape of a top hat.

“I’ll get back us to our friends. Once I gradate this voltage and calibrate this lens,”

He soldered an electrical panel and adjusted a series of knobs. Shutting the door behind him with his tail, he high-fived the crude-looking Taylor dummy strapped into the seat next to him, ready to test drive his invention.

“I will find a waaaay! To quantize this frequency, updrive the peak speed! So we can see them todaaaaay!”

He pushed some buttons and moved some vertical sliders, grinning as the power bars increased before pulling a lever.

“No one here schemes like you,” sang his three angel chaperones, praising him as they flew around the machine. “Sheds skin or blasphemes like you!”

“I’M COMING CHERRI!” Sir Pentious yelled.

“In no time we shaaaall, become your best paaallls!” They continued, not worried in the least by the contraption behind them.

“I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!” Sir Pentious laughed triumphantly, golden cracks spreading along the machine as he drilled. In no time, the invention exploded in a plume of smoke, sending the screaming snake flying before he landed hard in the golden street outside. “AHHH, shit!”

Emily flew over to him with a tight smile. “Yeah, I forgot to mention, you’re not able to leave.”

Sir Pentious groaned in defeat.

- x -

Back in the courtroom, the atmosphere was solemn.

“Please forgive me, Speaker.” Sera uttered, tone filled with regret. “I have sinned.”

“Speak, my child.”

“I thought I was doing right for our people. But now… now I’m faced with knowing it was all…”

Taylor’s affirmations during the trial came back to her, the unwavering earnestness seared into her mind.

“… What’s the purpose of Hell? To just let souls burn, confronted with their misdeeds and have them feel that forever?”

“…They’re still human souls, just like the ones you have here that live and breathe…”

“… When stripped of their circumstances to sin, given back their free will and offered safety, so many chose to do better...”

The High Seraphim grimaced, her stomach twisting into knots. “That this whole time, those souls could, with more faith in them… be good. Be changed. I…”

“Sera…”

Said angel began to cry. “What have I done?” She choked out before singing her confession.

“I don’t know what to do. Thought I was righteously leading our people. But now I’m faced with the truth…”

She turned and stared at the magical scrying orb floating before her.

“What kind of leader can’t tell good from evil?”

Sera reached out, the surface of the orb rippling upon contact.

“All those poor souls… how many could’ve been saved?”

With a wave of the hand, a starry red sky appeared, wailing demonic forms melting into shadows. An Exorcist rose, wielding two swords and grinned evilly. Sera closed her eyes, as if doing so she could deny the reality.

“How could I trust in a justice so cruel and depraved?”

The Speaker turned her away, cupping Sera’s cheeks comfortingly.

“One seeks the answer, that one cannot grant her.” She held her hand skyward and the room lit up with sunbeams. “You’re looking for liiight, only you can igniiiite!”

Gazing back, Sera observed the reflections of the Speaker and Exorcist for a moment before the phoenix set her hands upon Sera’s shoulders.

“Every transgression must serve as a lesson.” Flying around the angel and orb, the Speaker asked. “Yesterday you drew sorrow. What will you doooo… tomorrow?”

Sera turned around as the orb turned black and Sinner blood dripped from the edges, falling onto the desolate brimstone-filled wasteland.

“I feel no wiser than when I commanded the slaughter of those sons and daughters…”

She walked along the wasteland strewn with demonic corpses, gleaming angelic weaponry still sticking out of the slain.

“You can’t hiiide,” Sang the Speaker, her golden essence gliding over the battlefield.

“How can I be sure I won’t repeat, more massacre based on mistaken conceit?!”

An Exorcist dove down and beheaded a Sinner, crimson splattering over Sera’s gown and face.

“Look insiiiide,” The Speaker answered encouragingly.

“If I stand down and leave us exposed,” Sera sang worriedly. “Would that be blind to the threat Hell may pose?”

At that moment, the black Hell moon, its glowing red upside down pentagram rose up and ominously eclipsed the Heaven moon.

The Speaker dispelled the vision, wings spread wide as she descended towards the smaller angel.

“You can’t know, though time flows on,” The phoenix sang, the darkness receding around the two. “So you must bear the cross bestooowed upon you.”

Sera’s eyes widened, the weight of the task set before her already too much. “Take pity, I praaaay. Give me a sign,” she pleaded, shaking her head. “What’s your guidance? Please show me the waaaaaay!”

Sera flew desperately after the Speaker, the larger angel flapping her wings at a leisurely pace.

“You speak of choices, made by other voices.” Advised the divine messenger. “You can only atone…”

“Tell me how to atone!” Sera begged.

“… once you speak with your own.”

Sera landed on top of the orb as the Speaker orbited around her.

“If souls from damnation, can earn their salvation,” She fell to her knees and reached out a desperate hand. “And find their forgiveness on hiiiigh…”

But the Speaker of God was gone, the High Seraphim alone in the courtroom.

“… How do I?”

- x -

Lute maneuvered her way through the busy sidewalk, shoving aside any angels who got too close. Ducking into a dimly lit alleyway, she struggled to catch her breath. Flinging off her mask, she began to sob as the headgear clattered to the ground. Gripping the wall, she lowered her head, tears falling to the ground. She wiped her face, breathing heavily.

Adam was her everything, her beloved commander. If only he were here, he’d know what to do.

Why?! Why was he gone?! She needed him more than ever! Heaven and his legacy were falling apart right before her eyes.

Anger singed her veins at the idea of that weak-willed imposter stealing her place as the army general. It didn’t make sense, she had the experience, that fat coward was entirely unfit!

She screamed in frustration and punched the wall, cracks traveling up the wall from the impact.

“Wow, someone’s menstruating.”

Lute’s head darted to the voice, a silhouette with familiar yellow eyes and teeth smirking at her before moving out of view.

“Adam?” She raced after him, a hopeful smile forming. “You’re alive?”

She stopped when Adam’s form rose from behind her and floated up.

“Oh,” Adam scoffed. “No. No, I’m in your head.”

The apparition set his hands on his hips with a derisive smile. “Guess you missed me that much, huh? You crazy bitch.” He booped her on the nose.

“Nobody is listening to me.” Lute uttered.

Adam waved a hand in disbelief. “What? Lame. Do they know that I, uh, died?”

She lowered her head. “They don’t care. And if things keep going the way they are, Heaven will let what that fire filth did to you slide, ignoring that they must’ve stolen your divinity — just like they stole the Light of Heaven.”

“Well, that’s some real bullshit.” Adam grumbled.

“I know.”

“Well then…” The ghost of her commander leaned in close to the side of her face, smirking darkly. “Guess it’s up to you, then.”

“Yes, sir.” She answered, clutching the golden halo around her wrist. “It is.”

- x -

Sera paced in the lavender and gold meeting room, Abel and Saint Peter waiting patiently in their seats at the round table.

“Okay, we…” Sera began. “I have to decide what action will be taken regarding how much of a threat Hell could be now.”

The other two nodded meekly.

“They know what they can do to do, and many of them will want to take out their pain on us. Lute was correct on that. They have numbers, and no reason not to rise up against us.”

She paused, faltering momentarily. “But I just… I don’t want more… I need time to think about what should be done.” She turned back to them.

“We are ready and waiting, ma’am, with our knives and our helmets and… some other pointy things.” Abel made a stabbing gesture before clapping his hands together serenely. “Please try not to stress too much. It’ll-It’ll hurt your tummy.”

Seeking advice, Sera shifted her attention to him. “What do you think we should do, Abel, as head of the army?”

Said commander froze, getting nervous. “Oh, well, see, I don’t much like confrontation,” he slowly slid under the table. “So I don’t love the idea of going down there for revenge or anything.”

Considering the alternative, he raised a finger before peeking his head just over the edge. “But they did sorta, kinda work together and killed my dad a little bit, so… maybe?”

Saint Peter shrugged noncommittally.

Abel mirrored the gesture with a weak smile. “I’m pretty okay with either option to be honest.”

Sera brought a hand to her forehead, shaking her head. “Okay. That doesn’t help me. Saint Peter?”

The gatekeeper smiled nervously, indicating behind him. “I just watch the door.” He whispered.

She sighed. “Right. Of course.” She clasped her hands behind her. “Thank you both. You may go.” Turning to face the window, she stared at her reflection. “This is my decision to make.”

Saint Peter hovered back, giving her a thumbs up.

Abel followed. “Whatever choice you make, Your Highness, Heaven will be behind you.”

Once the door closed behind them, Sera uttered a sigh.

“Ah, the perks of being in upper management, amirite?” A silky-smooth voice interrupted her moment of quiet contemplation.

Looking to the side, a handsome porcelain faced angel with neatly combed back blonde hair, side-swept hands showing off coral and paler blonde highlights leaned against the wall, icy blue eyes gleaming with nothing short of mischief.

“Michael.” Sera breathed, a hint of relief in her tone.

Pushing off the wall, his six blue and white wings fluttered lightly as the archangel smiled at her teasingly. “Oof, things must be pretty serious if you’re happy to see me.”

“Sometimes I think they expect too much.” Sera replied frankly, the pressure of keeping Heaven safe overwhelming.

“Holy J-man,” Michael whistled, pulling a canteen of wine from his robe. “From the looks of it, you need this more than anyone.” With a wave of a hand, two goblets manifested on the table. “Celestial wine, straight from the nectar of the stars. On me. Just don’t tell Gabriel.” He chuckled lightly and poured.

Sera took a grateful sip of the offered drink, savoring the celestially sublime flavors as it spread across her tongue. It helped to take some of the edge off instantly. “How goes the search?”

Michael shrugged nonchalantly, though the tension was perceptible only to those familiar with his tells. “Working our way through the realm, checking through records for any unauthorized departures.” He took a sip. “The spitfire could be anywhere. It’s like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.”

Sera nodded, the seraphim wishing to find Taylor so she could begin to make amends for what she did — nearly did — to them.

“Michael, what do I do?” She asked, worry creeping up her spine. “What’s the best plan forward?”

“Well,” the archangel said with a sigh as he gazed out into the horizon. “I tend to be a bit, shall we say, heavy-handed in my dispensation of justice, so I might not be the best person to ask.” He shot her a leading sidelong glance. “But if you really want to know…”

“What?”

He grinned. “I would hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”

Sera placed her head in her hands. Why couldn’t anyone give her a straight answer?

“Fuck.”

- x -

Emily flew down when she spotted Sir Pentious sitting beside a stone bench in a garden full of large flowers shaped like teal eyes.

“Nothing beats the sadness away quite like saturated colors and sugar!” She piped up, holding the ice cream cones she brought.

Sir Pentious said nothing as he used a screwdriver to put tighter a robotic wind-up in the shape of an egg. It had a white face, large yellow eyes and a messily drawn black smiling mouth on it. The arms consisted of a spatula and fork; a small black top hat perched on its crown.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked.

The robot wobbled a few strides atop the bench it fell upside-down to the ground in a broken heap. Sir Pentious stared dispiritedly.

Emily flew down to get a closer look. “Wow! When Taylor said you were talented, they weren’t kidding!”

Sir Pentious blinked back tears. “That’s about as close as I’ve come to my little Egg Boiz. They all perished in the zeppelin. Why aren’t they here?”

Emily held out the pink ice cream cone to him, face serious. “I don’t think any of us knows how this works, Pentious.” She spoke. “We just know it worked for you. For Taylor.”

He lowered his head. “Right… are, are they avoiding us? Have they gone and found new friends, leaving me alone again?”

Emily stared sadly, not knowing where Taylor was either. Sera always brushed her off, quickly retreating to meetings when pressed.

Then she had an idea, tossing aside the ice cream cones and cracking her fingers together. Flying up, she raised her hands to the air, eyes bugging out as she intensely strained and manifested a large bubble over her head.

Pentious gazed up in amazement. “Oh my. Are those…?”

To the inventor’s delight, Emily brought forth five flying golden eggs, the creatures happily flying around his head. All had smiling faces, halos, top hats, and neckties.

“Not quite the same as the ones you lost, but maybe it’s something, since you can’t see your friends.”

Bawling in joy, Sir Pentious pulled an egg to his chest. “I love them!”

“Egg. Egg. Eggy. Egg. Egg. Eggy. Eggy.” The creatures babbled.

With another sob, he pulled all close. “I’ll tolerate them!” He looked over at the angel in gratitude. “Thank you, Emily.”

“Don’t forget you have at least one new friend here, Pen.” Emily winked at his side. “One super fun, silly, very cool friend. Me! I’m talking about me!” She pointed to herself.

“Yes, I figured it was you, yes.” Sir Pentious replied with a genuine smile.

- x -

A plaque decorated with wings and a halo read. “ADAM: DICKMASTER — FIRST MAN.”

Scratching the plaque with her golden hand, Lute growled as she pushed open the door to Adam’s old office. Inside was a vast room with large square windows that reflected a sunset sky of oranges, reds, and light pinks. Debris and papers littered the floor, uncollected after the first man carelessly swept them off the table. Above the desk were Adam’s guitar-axes and vinyl records, the instruments set on display in glass cases.

Lute stomped over and furiously tossed a rock, shattering the glass case holding one of her commander’s guitars, the golden and black one still stained with the Radio Demon’s blood from the battle at the Hazbin Hotel. She stumbled forward and gripped the edge of the desk, her emotions raging like a tempest.

Abel peeked through the ajar door.

“Hey, Miss Lute. Can I call you that?” He asked, the distraught angel dragging her rings across the cracked desk with a snarl.

“Sorry to, uh, interrupt your, uh, freaky in the dark time. I was hoping to maybe get one of my dad’s old guitars, you know? To remember him by.” He flew over to one of the display cases.

That traitorous nobody doesn’t deserve to be near Adam’s things, Lute thought.

“Get out.” She growled.

Abel paused, holding a golden harp-shaped six-string. “Sorry?”

She whirled around. “GET OUT!”

Lunging forward, she yanked the guitar from Abel before swinging it at his head.

Abel fearfully ducked under the swipes. “Whoa! Right. Y-Yes. Uh, I’m leaving. Sorry! I’m leaving! I’m out!” He cried as he fled out the door.

Lute landed, chest heaving and holding the guitar.

“You know, I never liked that kid,” Adam’s apparition mentioned.

“He’s weak.” She sneered.

“Major pussy.” The glanced ahead, breaking the fourth wall. “And not the good kind.”

“And now I have to answer to him!” She slouched over to a corner. “He’s nothing like you.”

In a fit of anger, she smashed the guitar against the wall, pieces clattering to the floor.

“Ouch. Yeah, that fucking sucks.” Adam commented with a put-out face.

Lute held the glowing guitar strings of the shattered guitar, hands shaking. “I never got to tell you that…”

“You think I didn’t already know?” Adam asked, bending down so the two stared into each other’s eyes.

She reached out, hopeful. “Did you?”

The apparition straightened out with an aloof shrug. “No fucking idea.” To prove his point, he floated through Lute’s hand. “If you don’t know, I don’t know, babe."

Lute held back a sob.

From behind her, Adam inspected his claws before donning a devious smirk. “So… what are you gonna do about it?”

Lute’s eyes flashed white with inner fury, still on her knees as orange clouds outside raced across the sky.

“…I’m gonna kill every last one of them.”

The white-haired angel stood.

“Sanctus.” A choir intoned solemnly in the background.

“Does no one know, who they’re dealing with?”

She looked back at Adam, smiling as he leaned against the wall with arms crossed.

“Think I’ll let it go?” She swept her arm out dismissively as she walked away. “Forget and forgive?”

“Dominus.” The choir sang.

She clutched her head. “The rage in me…”

“Yeah,” Adam whispered in her ear.

“… Is terminal…”

“Yeah,” Adam was at her other side, egging her on.

“There’s no remedy…”

“YEAH!” Adam landed near her with a wide grin as the lieutenant fell to her knees, gripping her head.

“… but to burn them all!” Both sang as Lute stood up.

“Ignis.” The voice chanted.

“I still got a job to do, my mission’s incomplete…” She slammed a hand to the wall.

“Only a traitor could consider making peace!” Another wall punched as she glared at the ground.

“Vindictis.” The voice chorused.

She and Adam faced each other, making a dark promise together.

“The princess has to pay, for what she did that day.”

Tears pricked Lute’s eyes as she forlornly looked up when Adam’s apparition rose to the ceiling, laughing before vanishing in golden light.

“For what she took awaaay.”

She stomped her feet, sending papers flying as she waved her hands aggressively.

“Storm’s coming, I can see the clouds. No running’s gonna save you now!”

Leaping onto the desk, she raised her fists skyward and forcefully head-banged in a rockstar style as Adam slammed a fist approvingly, vowing retribution.

“And hard rain’s gonna fall down, like gravity. Like gravity.”

Flying up, Lute angrily punched Adam’s records one by one, the shattered pieces falling to the floor.

“Eye for an eye says you owe me a debt. Blood demands blood, gonna get my hands wet!”

Landing among the broken pieces, she grabbed a shard and slammed her fist back onto the wall, knocking the remaining records off.

“The flood’s coming now, you can bet on tragedy. Like gravity!”

Shard still in hand, she kicked a broken spotlight to the side, the projector blinking on as she walked forward. Her eyes glazed over as she imagined Charlie and Taylor’s before her.

“You think you’re Hell’s great saviors?”

Her shadow grew wider, ominously climbing up against the lit up-wall.

“Will you still when I return the favor? Take the ones you need, make you watch ‘em bleed!”

Imagining Vaggie and Carmilla’s faces, she tore several gashes in the canvas, revealing the golden wall underneath.

“Will you break thinking how you couldn’t save her?”

Tossing the shard hard enough to embed itself into the opposite wall, she turned back and watched Adam’s form slide up, the sharp debris cutting through the back of his head.

“Wishing you were there when they needed you…”

She sobbed as she curled in on herself, clutching her head as Adam stared calmly at her, the shard poking through his chest in the spot where Niffty had stabbed him.

“The only soul who’s ever completed you…”

Putting a hand to her heart, her gaze hardened with resolve.

“Maybe then you’ll get a little heated too. And understand why this is what I need to do!”

Launching herself from the wall, she landed on top of Adam, the ghostly angel grinning as she pulled the shard out and swooped into the air.

“Storm’s coming, I can see the clouds…”

She spiraled at full speed toward the domed ceiling.

“Sanctus Dominus.” Intoned the voices.

“No running’s gonna save you now…”

She crawled upside-down across the stained-glass, images of spear-wielding Exorcists invading Hell before shattering that too with her improvised weapon.

“And hard rain’s is gonna fall down, like gravity. Like gravity…”

Adam’s ghost grinned up at his lieutenant while shards of gold and red rained down into the room.  He smiled admirably as Lute landed, the two striding together before she flew up and walked along the windows.

“Eye for an eye says…”

“You owe me a debt!” Both finished.

“Yeah!” Adam tacked on as he flew by her.

“Blood demands blood, gonna get my hands wet!” The two stomped in tune together.

Lute kicked the glass, the woman flying backwards in a graceful arc — almost in slow motion — as the entire central windowpane shattered.

“The flood’s coming, now you can bet on tragedy…"

She fell upside down against the pink and orange sky… a fallen angel, hell-bent on revenge.

Swooping down before landing, Lute raised her arms up and screamed. “Like GRAVITYYYY!”

Her a final powerful wing beat, she sent all the strewn glass flying.

She panted for breath, alone once more as rage still coursing through her veins—

— only to turn her head and hurl a deadly glare at a concerned Abel, the meek angel’s eyes bulging before darting away with a hasty door slam.

- x -

“No peeking!” Emily could barely contain herself as she led Sir Pentious into a room.

“You realize that I’m covered in eyes, right?” He asked before correcting himself. “But-but I can act shocked if you’d like.”

“Oh, right,” She chuckled before removing her hands from his eyes. “Well, anyway… ta-da!”

Spreading her arms, she let Sir Pentious take in his new living space. Opposite the large window and glass down that led to a glowing outdoor balcony was a workstation with a desk, chair, golden ray device, and plenty of holographic screens for his usage.

He turned to admire the room, pleased. “Oh my, this is…”

He paused as Emily showed him his bed. Right above were spray-painted faces of Cherri, Charlie, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk, Vaggie, Taylor, and Alastor as a slender deer in the background.

“… a little creepy, but perfect. Thank you, Emily.”

She gently took his hand in friendship, hoping it was the beginning of better times for him. “Welcome to Heaven, Sir Pentious.

Though he knew she meant well, Sir Pentious still couldn’t hold back a glum sigh.

“Attention citizens of Heaven,” Sera’s voice called, making Sera and Emily jump. The High Seraphim’s voice was amplified as she held her fingers to her throat.

“Winners, angels and all who reside. Due to some recent concerns over Hell’s rising tensions, it has been decided for everyone’s safety that Heaven will be closed off from any other realms. Incoming souls will be put through security protocols, but nobody gets in or out without expressed permission. This is for the good of Heaven and will protect us all. Thank you.”

Sera strode to her spot on a large platform atop a skyscraper building where six other angels stood at the ready. Morphing into her partial angel form with eyes all over her hair and body, she and the council shot golden beams toward a center sphere, powering it up. Once charged, the sphere shot a brilliant column of golden light up before it spread out across the sky, slowing falling over Heaven’s borders.

Sir Pentious and Emily watched a shimmering wall cascade its way down.

“Is this bad?” Sir Pentious asked with concern.

“I don’t totally know. I guess not?” Emily replied, not sure.

“Do you think Charlie should know?”

The bubbly angel gasped in a panic.

“Oh my gosh! Charlie! I should tell Charlie!” She grabbed his arms and spun him back excitedly. “About you, Taylor, this and everything! B-Be right back!”

She created another bubble portal and flew through it.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious called, rushing after her. “Please, can I see my friends?!”

But he was too late, the portal closing just as his hand reached it. Sighing glumly, he lowered his head.

Sir Pentious miserably slithered over to his bed, the Eggs making room for him. When he curled up into a ball, his new companions frowned and nuzzled against him as the snake sobbed, heartbroken at being denied the chance to see his friends again.

Outside, the barrier finished encapsulating the realm, tinting it a light blue. 

- x -

“GAH!” Taylor cried, clapping their hands over the sides of their head as they grimaced.

“What’s wrong?” Antonio questioned, the German Shepard and their right-hand demon pausing his report with a look of concern.

“I don’t know!” It appeared like a deafening squeal of static followed by a message trying to come through, but the words were garbled, distorted, layered with interference. They managed to pick out a few choice words.

“Attention… Heaven… concerns… protect…”

As quick as it came, the grating harshness faded and golden eyes gazed up toward the Heaven moon. Did something happen? They hoped Pentious was okay…

“Taylor?” Melanie asked, the fluffy white Pomeranian demoness and the third of the Dealbreaker triumvirate stared up, the halo’s brightness settling back to its normal level of gleam.

“I’m fine, Mels. What’s going on out there?” They shook off their worries, focusing back on the task at hand.

Antonio indicated to the outskirts of the territory. “There’s a multi-front assault raging against our forces and some two-bit gangs — sources point to the Five Aces and Los Groseros Saltamontes.”

Closing their eyes, Taylor tapped into the various street lamps posted around, snapshots of rubble, trash, vehicles and a few not-quite-dead bodies ablaze in the streets. Grasshopper demons holding machine guns and machetes divided their attentions against a group of ferocious looking tigers wielding sawed-off shotguns or nail-covered baseball bats and the demons under their protection being backed up by Taylor’s flame sentinels, the blazing blue facsimiles acting as walking flamethrowers.

“Right,” Taylor took a mental note of what areas to head over to first. “Melanie, how’re the numbers looking?”

“Since the Vee’s announcement, we’re coming up on 5% of residents jumping ship to head over to the tower.”

Taylor pinched the bridge of their nose to stem the oncoming headache. “I’m not even gone for two months and suddenly the name ‘Dealbreaker Demon’ doesn’t count for anything anymore?”

“Aren’t you an angel?”

“Semantics, Melanie. The ‘Dealbreaker Angel’ doesn’t roll off the tongue, so just tack on Redux at the end if it makes you feel better.”

Taylor grinned as they smacked their fist in their palm, body beginning to glow. Assembled demons took some cautionary steps back as flames arced, cranked up the ambient temperature.

“Watch out, I’m bringing the heat!”

Chapter Text

Author note - Welcome back! Apologies on the delay in uploading, work and the holidays have been cutting into my writing time.

 At least where I live, it’s gratitude season, so I wanted to offer my thanks to all who take the time to read, comment, and offer support for this project going, it's much appreciated! 

Anyhoo, onwards and enjoy!

Chapter 4: Behind Closed Doors

“Oh, my God, oh, my God!”

Charlie sprinted breathlessly through the hallways, passing by a tall white and gold demoness and Niffty swatting a gray bee demon as she neared her destination. “I-I have to tell Vaggie!”

Kicking the doors to the lounge open, Husk, Angel Dust, and Cherri Bomb’s idle chatter ceased at the sudden disturbance. At the sight of the frazzled state of her girlfriend, Vaggie’s jaw dropped.

“Guys. Holy shit. Holy fuck!” Charlie panted, wildly gesturing around. “Emily just appeared to me in office with portal—” she managed before crumpling to the floor, wheezing.

“Woah, whoa, there, Charlie babe.” Vaggie was crouched down at her side in an instant. “Remember what we said about breathing? And it being a good thing to do?”

The blonde gave a deep inhalation before relaying everything in one go. “Emily just portaled in front of me all,” she shifted into an impression of the seraphim. “‘Hey, it’s me, Emily. Heaven is closing down because you killed a bunch of angels and everyone’s scared but don’t worry! Oh, yeah, and also, Sir Pentious and Taylor are here in Heaven. Okay, BYEE!’” She gasped.

“What? Pentious is in Heaven now?” Vaggie uttered incredulously, eye widening. “That means it wasn’t a one-off; the hotel works!” 

Charlie teared up, hand on her heart as a smile of sheer relief overtook her.

“I can’t believe it. We didn’t fail him.” Vaggie’s world was suddenly moving around her as Charlie spun her around joyfully. “WE DID IT! We’re two-for-two, Vaggie!”

Releasing the dizzy former Exorcist, Charlie began pointing frenziedly at everyone in the room.

“Hear that? Hear that?! It’s working!” She pointed to a startled Razzle. “Ha ha ha! I got to let everyone know!”

“Charlie, hang on!” Vaggie cried, chasing her laughing girlfriend out of the room and down the hallway.

There was a beat of silence as the remaining occupants were left in shock.

“… I thought Charlie said no more drugs.” Angel Dust commented, mildly disturbed by what just happened.

- x -

The wind flowing through their wings made Taylor’s skin tingle, the ascended fire demon gliding past the buildings of Hell before making their descent toward the Hotel. A wing beat came with a stifled strain of effort; the new appendages not fully trained due to being actual unfamiliar muscles instead of fiery constructs they summoned. They ought to ask Vaggie or Lucifer for help to strengthen them, they mused.

Landing in the yard a little unstably, they stretched their limbs to release some pent-up energy they’d amassed after breaking some contracts — courtesy of the goons who made an incursion on their territory. Passing by their own gravestone, they gave it a pat, which had become a weird sort of habit when they thought about how their demonic body was rotting in the ground. Charlie had asked if she should remove it, whether it made them uncomfortable to look at it, but it didn’t. If anything, it was a symbol of their journey, of what they all fought for. So, no, they actually liked looking at it.

Entering the Hotel, they nodded in greeting at a few of new guests before a harsh whine made them recoil.

“OW! AHH!” Taylor clapped a hand to their head with a wince. “What keeps causing that?”

“Have you always had tinnitus?” A persnickety voice sounded.

Looking down, a short piscatorial resident stared at them with a quirked eyebrow. “Oh, hey Baxter.” They rubbed their temple, the resonant sound fading away as quickly as it came. “No, it’s a new thing.”

“Fascinating. I must document this posthaste. Come, join me in my laboratory.” Baxter told them before turning away.

Seeing as it seemed pretty quiet around the place, Taylor decided to humor the eccentric angler-fish demon and followed.

- x -

Vaggie finally caught up to Charlie, the blonde about to move on after interacting with another guest.

“Charlie, are you absolutely sure that’s what Emily said?”

The Princess of Hell gave an enthusiastic smile. “I’m a thousand million zillion percent sure!” She laughed ebulliently. “Isn’t this AMAZING, VAGGIE?! Ooh, I cannot wait to see the look on Dad’s face when he finds out!”

While Charlie fanned herself with her hands, Vaggie turned away to confer on her own.

“Okay, a lot is happening. Everything we’ve been working for has been proved right, twice! We’re clearly onto something here, but what?”

She looked over when Charlie heaved an offended gasp, the princess spotting a VoxTek blimp sporting the message: ‘CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR: DICTATOR?’

“What? I don’t… I would never…” She sputtered. “Who-Who even advertise on a zeppelin?! I-I… I guess Pentious would, huh?”

Not allowing herself to get distracted, she inhaled and began to pace. “Right. Focus, Charlie. I got to get this taken down before all of the Pentagram sees and they start…”

Vaggie brought up a finger to try and get a word in when Charlie stopped mid-stride, realization hitting her.

“Oh.” With a mischievous smile, Charlie brought out her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she clicked on one for VoxTek. “Oh-ho-ho!” She tittered.

Her intense typing was interrupted when Vaggie’s hand blocked the screen, the blonde looking up as the one-eyed angel held up her free hand with concern.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Charlie. Before you get any crazy ideas, what was that about Heaven going into lockdown?” She leaned in closer. “Did Emily say why? Can we talk to her?”

While Vaggie was speaking, Charlie turned partially around, audible typing sounds coming from her device as she kept going with her other hand while still facing her girlfriend.

“Are the Exterminations still on? Did they show you Pentious up there?” It became apparent that she hadn’t heard her, as Charlie brought her phone back into view. “Wait, what are you doing?” 

With a hum, Charlie finally gave Vaggie her full attention. “Oh, just sending off a li-ttle strongly-worded email to VoxTek explaining that not only am I,” she slapped the window, the blimp in view. “NOT a dictator, but also to send their top reporter over here right away so we can clear the hotel’s name with an exclusive interview!”

Vaggie pulled her in with puffed cheeks. “And we need to do this now because…?”

“Becausssse it’s the perfect opportunity!” Charlie dragged Vaggie over to stand beside her at the window. “I do one quick little interview before dropping the absolute bombshell that we’ve done it again!” She swept her hand over the window, the skyline of Pentagram City shown as she spoke. “Our message is broadcast to ALL of Pentagram City and people will flood the hotel again wanting to be redeemed, we redeem them, then Heaven will go…”

She made her hands talk to each other like sock puppets, words getting more animated as she went. “‘Oh gosh, Charlie, you are, like, so cool and your hotel is great and let’s work together and be friends FOREVER.”

Vaggie calmly pushed the frenetic blonde’s hands down. “Yeah, I’m just not sure reaching out to the Overlords trying to make you look like a horrible monster is the best idea.”

“Vaggie, it’s a big story. I bet VoxTek will change their tune when they hear it.” She pressed the send button on her phone. “Just take care of the guests for me until I’m done. Okay, love you, bye!”

With that, Vaggie sighed as her lover bounded down the hall, pausing to dance in victory every few steps.

- x -

Back at the lounge’s bar, the others were still processing the news.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Husk admitted as he cleaned a glass. “The kid actually did it.”

Cherri was flabbergasted. “What the actual fuck? What do you mean? This isn’t fucking funny! You actually believe her crazy talk?”

Angel Dust swirled his drink. “I mean, Pentious was kind of a big softy; I guess all of that apologizin’ and cryin’ really paid off.”

The bombastic demoness scoffed. “Yeah, nah. Dude was an absolute dick. Just some wannabe Overlord simp that kept messing with my shit every chance he got for the past fucking forever.” She slapped the counter. “I mean, how the fuck does that get you redeemed?”

Husk shrugged. “Hey, I’m not saying I knew the guy, I’m just saying it makes sense. Taylor was the real dark horse, ‘cause my money was that if anyone was gonna make it up there, it was him. Or maybe Angel on a good day.”

Said spider leaned into the counter teasingly. “Oh-ho-ho! Them’s fucking words, kitty.”

Husk smirked. “Choke.”

“Ha! I’d love to.”

Cherri looked into her glass, growing introspective. “I mean, guess I didn’t really know the guy, huh? I figured he was kind of soft when he did his whole weird-ass ‘Remember me!’ bullshit, but…”

Angel Dust and Husk shared a knowing glance.

“You know,” the winged cat demon said leadingly, “that Baxter guy was spouting some shit about them working together when he first arrived. Sure you could ask him a thing or two if you’re… wondering.”

Cherri was on her feet. “I’m gonna get some air.”

“Mm-hmm,” He smiled smugly. “His room’s in the basement.”

Cherri threw her glass at her feet to hide her embarrassment. “I’m not fucking going, okay?” She blew a hole in the floor. “Bye, bitches!”

She hopped down the opening, obviously intending to head to the Hotel’s sub-level. At that moment, Vaggie walked into the lounge, confused at the destruction left in her wake.

- x -

“Just pick one and go with it.” Taylor answered, shrugging indifferently.

This was the most pointless conversation Taylor had ever been subjected to. Why were they wasting their time sitting here instead of doing literally anything else again?

Down in the basement, Baxter’s laboratory looked like the inside of an old submarine, the many pipes and tanks with outlines of who-knows-what swimming around casting rippling blue and green light across the walls, giving an underwater feel to the space.

Experimentally tapping a glass tank with their finger, they noted a familiar emblem embossed on various pieces of equipment.

“You work for VoxTek?”

“I’m a bio-scientist in Hell. Of course I work for VoxTek.” Baxter said matter-of-factly, indicating to the stool for them to sit.

From then on, they staunchly refused to provide anything that could be used against them, such as a blood sample (not a chance), one of their feathers for analysis (they retracted their wings when he sneakily tried to snatch one), what exactly led them to arrive in Hell (none of his business), and what they thought earned them their supposed redemption (confidential — not that they had any idea really).

Baxter had decided to move onto another set of questions, the subsequent response stymying him.

“It’s a basic question, one that cannot be left ambiguous.” The self-proclaimed mad-scientist insisted, clicking his pen in veiled aggravation. “When I asked the others for clarification, the consensus was, ‘Taylor is their own thing that can’t be categorized.’ It’s quite… irksome.”

Another shrug. “It’s not that deep, man. I genuinely don’t care if I’m viewed as male, female or anything in between; it’s whatever works.”

Baxter narrowed his eyes but decided to leave it be for now, seeing as the subject wouldn’t budge on the matter, not yet.

“Very well, then I have no more use for you. See yourself out.” He turned around to pluck a roach out of the tank with tweezers, effectively ending the conversation.

Not needing to be told twice, they got to their feet, only to jump when Baxter suddenly shrieked and dropped his pen and clipboard with a clatter when Cherri Bomb snuck up on him.

“Learn to announce yourself, woman!” The shorter demon groused, readjusting his gloves after retrieving his fallen items.

Cherri languidly turned her X-shaped pupil to Taylor. “Bitch, what’re ya doing down ‘ere? Best stiff yourself, Blondie’s gone troppo. Rambling on about some sugar fairy Emery, Em-something-or-other appearing and that the old man’s up in Heaven now…”

Her skeptical explanation trailed off, the fiery angel already halfway up the ladder to head upstairs.

Even when spoken to in such a profane manner, none can make up their mind, Baxter thought with a huff.

“I’m very busy. Why are you here and what will it take to make you leave?”

Cherri inspected her nails. “Huh. I don’t know. Word is you used to know Pentious.”

He groaned at the mention of the snake. “Ugh, we were partners.”

“Ohhhhh!” Cherri uttered with interest, moving to stand on his other side. “So you were like…?” She made her wrist go limp, making Baxter blush at the implication.

“WHAT?! LAB partners!” He haughtily put a hand to his chest. “But I was clearly superior, and that’s all there is to know.”

Not satisfied with his answer, she held out a lit bomb to his face, making Baxter yelp and fall back against the glass tank. “Do not, wench!”

“Give me the full story or the lab gets it!” She threatened.

“Okay, okay, fine. We used to work together, back in the day…”

In the past, Baxter sat in an old lab space, the scientist about to apply drops of a green substance onto three purple strips laid upon a tray. Above him, some egg creatures with no shells floated in a bubble-like glass tank.

“I specialized in bioengineering…”

A loud explosion sounded behind Baxter, causing him to squirt too much green substance onto the tray. Gritting his teeth at the disturbance, he turned around to reveal Sir Pentious testing a laser ray on the floor of his side of the shared space, the snake waving to him with a smile.

“And he in the boring engineering. Together, we crafted various wonder-filled creations…”

A time lapse depicted Baxter and Pentious working on each other’s sides of the room. Six Egg Boiz gleefully wandered around the space, eventually being gifted hats by Sir Pentious as the laser cannon was built. Meanwhile, with the tank empty of eggs, Baxter was quick to grow another creature in their place. The two engineers smiled, quietly admiring the other’s accomplishments. At one point, everyone slept peacefully side-by-side in the middle of the room, seemingly content with their friendly arrangement. Finally, both Sir Pentious and Baxter were on-stage at a “Hell’s fair,” revealing the laser ray and Baxter’s fully-grown creature to the amazed crowd.

“That we shared with the citizens of Hell! In hopes one day we could gain enough favor to become powerful Overlords.”

Having garnered some interest, Zestial himself decided to test the durability of the creations in a battle arena. The spider Overlord sent a powerful green slash wave that destroyed Sir Pentious’ cannon in one blow. But Baxter’s creation recovered, reforming its insides before going on the offensive.

“However, it quickly became apparent that his silly contraptions were too outdated, whereas my bio-experiments won the attention of many.”

It then cut to Zestial enjoying a spot of tea atop the felled beast, a line of investors ready to negotiate with Baxter, but the angler-fish had already shaken hands with a boxy TV-headed demon, arcs of electricity jumping between their palms.

“Eventually, Pentious found my experiments far too ‘violent’ and ‘cruel.”

Later, an Egg Boi spasmed as one of its oversized, muscular arms throbbed before exploding into a sunny-side up egg. The other frightened eggs hid behind Sir Pentious, the snake hissing at Baxter trying to test his serum again, syringe in hand. The snake rushed the remaining eggs out of the building, the rain outside hiding Pentious’ tears. Baxter stood at the window, watching the departure for a moment with a look of disappointment before walking away.

“So he took the eggs and left to continue his frivolous turf war scheme with that woman he was obsessed with. You, I think.”

Cherri kept her pinched fingers on the bomb’s fuse, listening to the tale with an unsure expression. This was a side she never knew about Pentious. “Hmm. Strange guy, I guess.”

Baxter turned his back, waving her off dismissively. “Now have I satisfied your request? I’m allergic to recollecting.” He sneezed sarcastically. “Achoo.”

Cherri’s expression soured. “Fuck! Do you have to be such a little freak? I’m going through something here!”

“I implore you to go through it elsewhere, like through the door.”

Flipping her hair angrily, she made for the door. “You know what? Fine, I’m going. Thanks, I guess, shithead.”

Baxter hummed in relief as he got back to work—

— only for a lit bomb to drop onto the floor of the laboratory seconds later.

“WAHHHHHH!”

- x -

Taylor practically sprinted up to the lobby, propelled forward by warring feelings of disbelief and hope fighting for dominance.

Pentious was safe? They hadn’t doomed their friend to erasure? Was he here, in the Hotel? Taylor found it hard to believe Sera could’ve had had a change of heart, considering the way she refused to listen to them… but what changed? And what did this mean for the future? They had to find Charlie, to find out for sure.

Their beeline to the elevators was brought to a screeching halt when they noticed the giant 150-inch flat-screen TV in the seating area, the show “Yeah, I Fucked your Sister, So What?” playing.

“What the—”

Golden eyes fell on Charlie, seated in a cushioned chair that none other than Vox had tugged her into, a VoxTek drone hovering over her while Velvette stood to the side, pen and notepad at the ready to presumably start an interview.

Oh, she did not.

Where was Alastor anyway? With the foul mood he’d been in lately, they were certain the Radio Demon would’ve jumped at the opportunity to rip someone apart.

Snapping their fingers, a current of power blanketed the space as a plume of irritation rose in them.

“Aaaand rolling!” Vox proclaimed merrily, leaning over the princess with a grin. “Let’s start with something easy, hmm? What’s your plan for the next Extermination, and will you be protecting everyone, not just your, uh, favorite characters?”

Charlie was caught off guard. “What? No.”

A recording of an invisible audience’s gasp emanated from Vox. “You WON’T be protecting? Interesting.” 

Velvette didn’t give her a chance to clarify, butting in with her own string of questions. “Is it true you believe that Sinners need to change ‘literally everything about themselves’ in order to be redeemed? And that the Morningstar’s currently dislike 98% of the population of Sinners?”

“Dislike Sinners? What?” Charlie stumbled. “Uh, I mean, my dad—”

“Hates Sinners?” Velvette finished, writing the statement down on her notepad. “Interesting.”

Vox planted his hands on the armrests, boxing the princess in as he kept up the pressure. “And the main question on everyone’s mind: what—”

He caught himself from face-planting when the chair was aggressively pulled back, sharp claws digging into the upholstery. A stifling warmth made his internal cooling system fans whir to life to keep him from overheating as he became aware of a presence looming over them.

“Charlie, there you are!” Taylor chirped.

Vox and Velvette straightened out, toothy smile or sneer firmly in place, red eyes locked on the nuisance who so rudely intruded on them.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” They asked, fixing the two Vees with a threatening grin. “I’d like a word with the owner of this fine establishment.” Taylor didn’t give either a chance to respond before Charlie was yanked to her feet by the arm with an undignified squeak. “Thanks!”

The blonde was released once Taylor steered her far enough, the fire angel facing her with a what-the-fuck expression.

“Charlie Morningstar, what in the Seven Rings of Hell is this?! What could possibly have possessed you to let these two in?” They looked around for a moment, hoping that Valentino wasn’t lurking around somewhere. Overlord or not, if that sleazy moth went anywhere near Angel…

“Oh, I was fine, but it’s perfect that you’re back. We can announce the news together!” Charlie replied blithely, unfazed by their reaction before grasping their hand to drag them back to the Vees.

“Actually, I kind of sort of lied about wanting to give an exclusive interview.”

Vox and Velvette gasped in mock offense, the latter pointing accusingly at the princess. “Liar.”

“Because I have bigger news! Huge exclusive news, and I wanted VoxTek to be the first to hear it.”

With a quirk of his eyebrow, Vox indicated to the drone that hovered down into frame. “Keep rolling.”

Moving to stand before Sir Pentious’ memorial painting, Charlie faced the two media Overlords.

“We are proud to announce that another one of our guests, Sir Pentious,” she clasped her hands together reverently. “Has been redeemed.” Quickly discarding the humble demeanor, Charlie wrapped an arm around Taylor’s shoulder and pumped her fist in victory. “Redemption IS alive and well, just like Sir Pentious and Taylor, proving that the Hazbin Hotel actually works! Take that, fuckers.”

Taylor suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of their nose in exasperation.

“You can’t be serious.” Vox answered after a moment, he and Velvette exchanging a glance that had their expressions shift from mildly questioning to smiling. “That’s… Good television!”

Teleporting to Charlie’s side in a bolt of electricity, he roughly shoved Taylor aside to shake her hand, applause playing in the background. “Congratulations, Princess! Bring the lucky Sinner — or should I say “Winner” — on down! Velvette, start a live broadcast.”

“Whoa! Wait, wait.” Charlie interjected, taking a small step back. “Well, he’s not… actually here since, you know, he’s…” she chuckled smugly. “In Heaven now. That’s how redemption works. You go up.” She pointed skyward. “But Taylor, our first redeemed soul would be happy to vouch for the program!”

“Ecstatic.” Said angel deadpanned.

At that moment, Vaggie, Husk, and Angel Dust walked in with looks of incredulity.

“Whoa, whoa. What the fuck are they doing here?” Vaggie said, looking to the unwelcome visitors.

“Oh, hey everyone! I was just telling Vox and Velvette our wonderful news!”

The former Exorcist’s tone grew strained. “Oh, that is so great! Hey, can I borrow you for a sec?”

As the Hazbin crew pulled Charlie aside to talk some sense into her, the three Overlords stared each other down, grins wide but atmosphere heavy with the weight of the animosity between them.

“Well, if it isn’t our old buddy Dealbreaker.” Vox started. “Fancy seeing you… alive.”

“Oh, you should know better than anyone that I’m too stubborn to stay down for long, Vox.” Taylor replied coolly, doing their best to not snap at the other demon. But they wanted to; they were waiting for a reason to send the fucker packing.

Feeling the murderous intent radiating off the two, Velvette elbowed Vox to refocus him as she took a step forward, tapping her chin in contemplation.

“Yes, it does appear not even death can keep you down, luv. Talk about bad bitch material!” Her lip curled as she stepped around them, taking in what she had to work with. “I suppose I can be your fairy godmother again because, unfortunately, your choice in appearance is giving basic.” She subtly got on her tiptoes, reaching up from behind with the intent to feel their halo. “But with a bit of lash, a bit of contour, I’m sure I can make you presentable….”

“Keep going and you’ll lose that, Velvette.” Taylor said, not having budged from their spot.

Velvette scoffed and faced them, phone in hand. “Touchy, touchy. What’s the problem? We all know you’re capable of fashioning yourself extra limbs and wings, even a whole new face. How else can we know for sure you aren’t faking this whole redemption farce?”

Taylor’s face was set in steel, unfazed by her assertion. “By that logic, I should get a fistful of your hair.”

“Fucking pardon?”

“What’s the problem? You can swap out your hairstyle pretty easily, and I and many others have wondered if your tresses are real.” They extended an arm, inquiring further in a hushed tone. “… Or are you bald under there?”

As it turned out, that was the absolute wrong thing to say.

“What bitches are talking shit about me?!” She cried, face contorting in anger. “You know how many simp over my hair, motherfucker?”

Vox quickly hooked his arms under Velvette’s armpits in time to keep the seething fashionista Overlord from starting a brawl right there in the lobby.

They chuckled mischievously. They knew from their clients that Velvette was sensitive about her ‘do, keeping it immaculate and making sure no one saw her change her look in public.

Fucking worth it.

But the satisfaction of riling her was quickly set aside when they heard Angel Dust’s voice.

Moving toward the disturbance, the spider was rapidly reaching full-blown panic mode. “You’re aware those two crazy fucks hang out with my old shit-fuck boss Val and are part of the Vees, and you still let them in here? Vox is probably broadcasting to Val!” The thought had him pulling at his hair.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Uh…” he grabbed Charlie by the shoulders. “Listen to me. I don’t know what they promised you, but I’m telling you right now that they are bad fucking news. Horrible fucking news!”

Velvette piped up with fake offense. “Wow, rude. We’re right here.”

Vox nodded. “I think we’ve heard enough lies. Velvette, call the limo.”

The Vees turned to leave and began walking to the doors.

Charlie disentangled herself from the gaggle of demons around her. “What? You can leave yet! You just got here, and my news isn’t even out there yet—”

“Sorry, Princess. We can’t go by your word alone that your fantastical claims are true. How do we even know the snake is actually up there? Did a little angel fly down and tell you so?” He laughed.

“Yes! Well, technically, she used a portal, so, um, uh… Taylor!” She yelled out of nerves, which had their antennae flare in sudden short fright. “Taylor is the proof you need!”

Velvette scoffed at her desperation. “Oh, this is just sad. The Dealbreaker Demon, a known shapeshifter, is the best you can do? We might be a lot of things, but the LAST thing we’d want to DO is spread misinformation, princess. What a waste of time!”

“Yeah, a waste of time thinking VoxTek would send someone intelligent to talk about the matter.” Taylor shot back in return. “Let ‘em go, Charlie. We don’t need those dipshits twisting things to make us look bad.”

But the blonde wasn’t listening; her eyes darting around to come up with a way to salvage the situation. She just needed to…

“WAIT, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! I’ll prove it!”

There was a record screech and Vox and Velvette stilled.

“What?!” The Hazbin crew uttered in unison.

With their backs to everyone, the Vees smiled smugly, having the princess right where they wanted her.

“Yeah, we’ll redeem someone.” Charlie asserted. “Right here, right now! All I ask you is to film it so everyone can see what the hotel really is.”

Husk face-palmed. “Oh, you’ve really done it now, Princess.”

“Charlie!” Vaggie hissed. “We don’t even know how Taylor or Pentious got redeemed in the first place. How do you expect us to replicate that on TV?”

“That’s where Angel comes in clutch.” Charlie replied.

The spider crossed his arms with a scowl. “I ain’t being your little guinea pig, toots. Especially in front of Vox. He gets off to watching people suffer. Dude is an absolute cunt-fuck.”

“I’m with Angel on this,” Taylor backed him, knowing all too well how the media Overlords operated. “Trust me, we don’t want to be giving the Vees more fuel for the proverbial dumpster fire.”

“But, Angel, come on.” Charlie pleaded. “You’re the one closest to getting redeemed. Look, I know you’ve quit drugs after Taylor’s death made you relapse.” She stammered. “Mostly. And I know you’ve been nailing your chore chart… sort of. But now that we know it can work, we have an easy step-by-step guide to follow!”

The spider tried to let her down gently. “Charlie, uh, I don’t know if—”

Husk stepped forward, offering a rare show of confidence. “Now, I normally stay the hell out of all this redemption business but she’s got a point there, Legs.” He threw a thumb to the media Overlords. “Besides, if Flathead and Baby Barbie try anything, if Alastor won’t, Taylor’s ready to throw down.”

“Fuck yeah, I will.” They promised.

Charlie reached to hold Angel Dust’s hand, speaking to him earnestly. “Look, I realize I’m asking a lot, but you’ve just made such great progress lately. I bet you’re one good deed away from redemption already.” She chuckled, her smile making Angel’s resolve crumble.

The spider turned to Taylor with a reluctant expression. His fiery friend narrowed their golden eyes, clearly not on board with the plan, before sighing.

“Putting it out there: I’m against this. But I’ll go along with whatever you choose.”

It was then Vox turned his head 180 degrees with a gleeful smile and both media moguls made their ways back. “Now, that could be something. Velvette’s get your camera ready. Let’s get some B-roll of the hotel.”

As Velvette bounced Niffty away with her powers when she wandered too closely, Vox continued. “So, who are we redeeming?” He chuckled. “And why?”

“Our volunteer is right here.” Charlie gestured to the spider demon.

Vox’s grin widened in mockery. “You’re going with Angel Dust? I’m guessing because he’s such a…” his voice modulated. “Pleasant person to be around?”

“Hold on, V.” Velvette offered with a sly smile. “The star’s power’s always good for viewership.”

Husk threw his arm out to defend his drinking buddy, feathered tail lashing. “Charlie picked him ‘cause if anyone around here’s gonna make it, he will.”

Vox found the display amusing. “Oh. I didn’t know they let PETS stay here, too.” He patted Husk’s head demeaningly, the winged cat demon snarling angrily at the gesture. “Cute.”

Pulling away from the infuriating TV-headed man, he faced Angel Dust with full confidence in the adult-film actor.

“What do you say, kid? Best case, you make it. Worst case, you’re still stuck down here with me and we down a couple of rounds with Cherri and Taylor later. You know she ain’t gonna let up.”

The spider regarded Taylor’s firm head shake no before he caved with a groan.

“Ugh! You both owe me for this. Big-time.”

Taylor wordlessly brought out their phone, hastily tapping away a message before following the group to a classroom.

- x -

Taylor drummed their fingers along their arm, jaw clenched in irritation.

Charlie’s attempts to speed-run redemption weren’t panning out as she’d hoped — to no one’s surprise. Making resolutions and performing acts of charity were all well and good, but they couldn’t help but share Angel Dust’s displeasure as Charlie dressed him up in a top hat, a fiery wig, an umbrella to simulate Pentious’ hood, draped chains across his shoulders, and affixed a fake tail behind the unamused spider demon before she had the idea that self-sacrifice could be an important aspect.

Now outside on the roof, the ascended fire demon could hear Niffty in the distance having a blast blowing the steam locomotive’s whistle as it chugged down the tracks.

At least someone is having a good time, Taylor mused.

Charlie, garbed in a old-timely cloak and flat-cap hat, set the scene in an exaggerated nasally cartoon villain voice.

“For our final attempt, a poor helpless damsel…” she indicated to a frowning Husk dressed in a pale-yellow frock laid across the railway, “Has been tied to the train tracks by ME, the Diabolical Danny Do-Bad! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Husk watched her mustache-twirling from his spot. “I shouldn’t have said nothing.” He called out in a deadpan voice. “Help, I’m stuck! Or whatever.”

Danny Do-Bad held her cheeks evilly. “And look! The 5 o’clock train with a deadly weapon tied to the front!” Indeed, Vaggie’s angelic spear was tied to the grill of the locomotive and she diabolically rubbed her hands together. “Right on time for once.”

Not far from Taylor, Velvette and Vox stared at the display with unimpressed expressions. Danny Do-Bad suddenly popped up beside the rapidly nodding off TV-headed man, making him flinch.

“If only there was a big, strong man willing to sacrifice himself to save the poor damsel!” She wandered off to stand on the roof’s stone railing, eyes tearing up. “Just like the great Sir Pentious did!”

The poorly disguised princess pulled out a remote with a green “go” and red “stop” button on it, speaking furtively to herself. “And I definitely don’t have a way to stop the train in case things go bad.” She tucked the remote away with a devious chuckle.

Velvette slunk next to Vox, hand shielding her mouth as she whispered despairingly. “Pretty sure one of Val’s pornos opened just like this.”

Vox smiled. “Add plagiarism to the list.”

Posing heroically, Angel Dust in a cowboy outfit spun a golden gun with one finger. “I’m a big, STRONG man with SO many redeemable qualities.” He drawled with a southern accent before he abruptly slumped his shoulders, stopping his gun twirling.

“All right, nope. Nope.” He said in his normal voice as he walked away, hands up to the blonde. “Nope. Come on, Charlie, this ain’t gonna work. I ain’t nothing like Pen.”

Still in character, she shrugged in pretend confusion. “Charlie? Who is this ‘Charlie’ character?” Her eye twitched, speaking through her teeth. “The Diabolical Danny Do-Bad does not listen to her friends!”

Yeah, we noticed, Taylor brooded.

She turned away, an unamused Angel rooted to the spot with arms crossed. “Oh, no! Look out, Sheriff Dust. The train is reaching the drop and the damsel!”

Said steam engine had slowed atop a flat part of track, a ninety-degree plunge a few feet away.

Angel rolled his eyes, lifting his arms in exasperation. “Ugh, this is dumb, I ain’t doing it Charlie.”

The scathing glare from Taylor and seeing him about to give up, Charlie dropped the act. “But, Angel, this is our last chance to—”

“Nup.” He cut her off with a hand before walking away. Taylor led him to a corner, commending him for standing his ground.

“But…” she sighed in defeat and pulled out the remote from her jacket. “Okay.” She clicked the stop button, but nothing happened. “Wha? Wha? Wh-whoa, wha, wha, what?!” She cried in confusion as she kept pressing.

Vox spoke up from his lounge chair, Velvette turning her head 360-degrees as the two shared devious smiles. “Oh, yeah. I noticed your little train didn’t actually pose any risk, so I took the brakes off.” He whipped out some shears, red and blue wires still sparking.

At that moment, the train began its plummet, fire trailing its sides.

“You’re welcome.” Vox said cheekily, enjoying her bug-eyed stare when she whipped around to face him.

“What?! You what?!” She waved her hands around as she ran over to the part of the track that crossed the roof, “Niffty, stop the train! NIFFTY! Stop the train…”

All the response she got was a manically cackle from the tiny train engineer as she blasted the horn, not comprehending what was being asked of her. Charlie rushed to the other side of roof, passing by Vox and Velvette enjoying snacks and the mayhem unfolding. “Husk, get out of the way!”

Husk craned his neck back to spy an upside-down Charlie. “Oh! Oh, yeah! Sure thing!” He replied sarcastically. “EXCEPT YOU TIED ME TO THE FUCKING TRACKS!”

Taylor and Angel Dust returned, sour expressions on their faces.

“Charlie, seriously, playtime is over.” Taylor admonished.

“FUCK, Charlie, I said I am done.” Angel tacked on, absolutely done with her shit.

The princess whirled on both of them, eyes wide in fear. “Guys, the brakes are cut!”

Angel looked over to Husk with concern. “HUSK! Fuoco, launch me!”

The ascended fire demon understood, grasping the cowboy before hurling him across the roof. Angel dramatically grasped onto the train tracks and swung himself over the top. He managed to shoot the ropes to free Husk, but the train was barreling at the two, the light about to overtake them.

They weren’t going to make it.

“Come on, come on!” Taylor hissed to themselves, sprinting toward the tracks when the train kept moving. “Find the heat, take it, and slow things down!”

Angel Dust moved in front, arms spread to shield the terrified winged cat demon, only his silhouette visible.

“Angel!” Charlie shouted desperately when at the last second, Taylor swooped in and snagged Angel and Husk, grunting when they skidded across the rooftop. The locomotive screamed past where they were moments ago.

Vox snapped his fingers in disappointment. “Damn.”

“You two okay?” Taylor asked, swallowing dryly as they stretched a wing achingly. Were their powers on the fritz? They should’ve been able to slow down time with no issue. “Charlie, what the fuck?”

The princess ran over, voice wavering as she apologized. “Angel, Husk, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m sorry.”

Angel dusted himself off, voice filled with controlled pique. “Charlie, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m fine.”

Husk shot up like a rocket, tearing off the dress in his anger. “The hell you are! What was that? You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

Angel was taken aback. “What? Y-You can’t be serious right now.” He stomped over to the bartender indignantly. “Y-You’re mad at me? I saved your fucking life!”

Husk pointed at him furiously. “Yeah! By jumping in front of a train, you idiot! Why didn’t you let Taylor handle it? Why put yourself in danger like that?” His voice lowered, not knowing how else to reprimand the spider demon. “You pull shit like that again, and I’ll… I’ll… I’ll fucking spank you!”

“Can it, guys, talk this out after company leav—” Taylor was cut off when they stepped between the two raging demons.

Angel angled himself around Taylor, not done in the slightest. “Pull what shit? What? The shit that you volunteered me for?”

“Yeah! ‘Cause I know how much you actually want this!”

“I know it’s rich coming from me, but simmer down!” Taylor yelled, sending a heated wave out to quiet the feud. “We’ll settle this later.”

Husk tsked, turning his head away and putting his hands up in surrender. “You know what? Forget it. This is why I never say shit. I’m out.” The winged cat demon turned and walked away, fuming still.

Angel scoffed, fists clenching at his sides as he got one last jab in at the retreating bartender. “I’ll say it again. I DON’T need your help, Whiskers!”

The tense atmosphere shifted when Vox began to slow clap, Angel Dust looking away in shame as Charlie and Taylor moved forward to face the media Overlords relishing in the spectacle.

“Bravo!” Vox congratulated mockingly as Velvette joined in the applause, recorded cheering playing from the TV-man’s speakers. “The tension! The drama! Ah! What a show!” He laughed before rolling his eyes. “Unfortunately, Princess, it seems Angel is still here and remains,” he put a hand to his heart in exaggerated sadness. “An irredeemable piece of shit. Aw. Who saw that coming?”

“All of us, really.” Velvette jeered.

Charlie wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. “No, I-I just know he can do it. Even though we tried everything Pentious did, there— there’s got to be something I’m missing.”

Taylor grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to face them. “Stop, Charlie, Angel is not Pentious nor me. Enough damage’s been done and we need to regroup. I’m sending these lowlifes home.”

Realization hit the obstinate princess. “He’s not Pentious. Maybe… maybe that’s it! We’ve been going about this all wrong! Instead of recreating Pentious’ or Taylor’s redemption, we need to redeem Angel’s sin! All we need to do is have him act against it!”

Angel Dust held up a hand, “Whoa there, toots.” He grew increasingly panicked as he tried to sidle towards the doors. “Not here, not today. Remember that lesson on boundaries?”

Charlie weaved around him, continuously cutting off his retreat. “Oh, come onnn. We won’t judge you, Angel. You can tell me. Then we can redeem you!”

“It ain’t that easy, Charlie. Now drop it.”

“Charlie, you heard him. Now’s not the time for—” Taylor moved to rein the blonde in when Vox’s tinny voice interjected.

“It really isn’t, is it?”

Angel turned on Vox, voice thick with warning. “Don’t you dare, asshole.”

“Tell me, Princess,” He continued unabated as he took some steps closer. “What exercise could one do to be forgiven for being a…”

“Stop.”

“… Murderer?”

“You shut the fuck up! Don’t you dare call me tha—” he was abruptly silenced when one of Velvette’s magical purple hands stifled his words.

“Killed your dad, right?” Vox recalled, pacing toward Angel Dust as the spider stepped back with fear in his eyes. “Least that’s what Val told me.” His shadow hovered over Angel. “What did he do? Hit you?”

Charlie’s demonic features arose, eyes crimson and horns jutting from her head as she spoke harshly. “HEY! That’s enough!”

Vox calmly turned to the enraged royal, her hair untying itself to billow menacingly in the air.

“Whoa-hoa-hoa! Careful now, Princess. That’s no way to speak to a guest. You asked.” His voice lowered. “I answered.”

The Princess of Hell made herself clear. “You can shit on me. You can mock me. But I won’t allow you to push my FRIENDS around like that, got it?” She inhaled and pointed to the exit. “I don’t care who you are. I think it’s time you two leave.”

Vox shrugged cockily, his smile unwavering. “Fine, but how ‘bout one last question for the road, Princess?” He stepped closer to Charlie, his screen glowing. “Do you think I could be redeemed?”

Charlie narrowed her eyes, conviction unwavering. “I believe anyone can be redeemed.”

Vox’s screen glitched, his smile coming out strained before turning away. “Right, then. I can almost see why Alastor humors you.” He stopped his departure for a moment. “Oh, and, Angel, I’ll be sure to tell Valentino you said…” his head twisted backwards ominously. “Hello.”

The Vees were suddenly gone with a pop, a winded Taylor retracting their wings as they stepped over the rooftop a second later. With the offending demons gone, Charlie tried to make amends with Angel Dust, the demon holding himself with a look of utter shame and embarrassment.

“Angel, I’m so sorry. Can we please talk—”

The spider spun around, no longer hiding his anger and disappointment and let her have it. “You know, ‘sorry’ starts to lose meaning after a while, Charlie.” He curled in tighter on himself. “But I SUPPOSE I should be grateful you’re willing to still apologize to someone as shitty as me, right?”

Charlie gently held Angel’s hand, her eyes showing the earnestness in her words. “Angel, no, you’re my friend, no matter what happens.”

He pulled away, still upset about what happened. “At least now you know what you’re working with.” He threw the stupid hat to the floor. “Why don’t you go ask Vox the next time you need to pry out more shit about my life?”

“Angel, I didn’t realize. I-I didn’t—”

Taylor held Charlie by the shoulders, dragging her away to leave the distressed spider on the rooftop. Releasing her in a secluded hallway, the blonde’s composure began to crack.

“Taylor, I-I’m so—”

“I’m not looking for apologies, I’m here for answers.” The ascended fire demon held their hand up. “Why would you go behind our backs like that and invite them in the first place?”

She sighed deeply. “I know they weren’t the wisest to contact…”

“That’s putting it lightly, Charlie.” 

“—But they’re some of the most influential Overlords in the city. Vox has his fans and people everywhere. All he has to do to have people listen to what he says is this,” she snapped her fingers. “I thought if we could share our progress, then it would show more folks that redemption is possible.”

Taylor rubbed their temple. Charlie had a heart of gold, but she clearly didn’t understand who she was dealing with. “I get it, you’re excited — I am too — but we have to go about this smarter. You have to know people will talk shit about you and the Hotel, no matter what. Part of being a leader is learning to ignore it.”

Charlie looked down sadly, finding the task easier said than done. She wondered how her mom managed to do it…

Hating seeing her so downtrodden, they swallowed their vexation and gently cupped her chin, tipping her head back up to meet their gentle gaze.

“Look, it’s been long day for everyone. How about this? You come along with me to help negotiate with folks to stand down against Heaven. It might do some good to have your subjects see you in the flesh instead of being some lofty figure in her ivory tower.”

Charlie considered the proposal, some hope already blooming as she thought of the things she could say to show she cared. That she knew every demon had goodness deep inside.

“I also feel the need to remind you.” They continued, voice unexpectedly soft as they released their hold. “You are still booked for an interview bootcamp. As you saw, you sorely need it.”

She sniffed, almost indignant before nodding mutely.

“Okay!” Taylor clapped their hands, startling her. “We got a week to get ahead of the bad PR coming our way. If you’re ready to buckle down, I need to you to commit. Can’t let Vaggie run the place forever, you know.”

Even as sheltered as she was, she still peered at the fire angel questioningly. “You really think it’ll take that long for the Vees to broadcast what they recorded today? Doesn’t seem likely.”

Taylor smiled impishly, raising their hand up to show the small arc of electricity thrumming between their fingers. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that…”

- x -

Vox didn’t get the chance to turn his head around, the nauseating sensation of a sudden stop-and-go washing over him like a wave as he and Velvette landed unceremoniously on the floor of their limo. Queasily glancing up through the open sunroof, silver wings flew over the top of the building, steam sublimating in the responsible party’s wake.

Wow, talk about hospitality.

Velvette held her stomach as she gingerly took her seat. “Seems to me not everyone is welcome at the Hazbin Hotel.”

Vox held onto the console, steadying himself, a green filter visible on his screen as his rotated to its normal position. “It appears not.”

When they were sure they weren’t about to blow chunks, the two began to laugh, softly at first, the chortles growing to howling cackles as the motion sickness wore off.

“That was PERFECT! Did you get the moment where she noticed the brakes?”

“I got it at three angles, babe. Got to say, the Angel Dust trauma dump was a nice touch~”

Settling back in his seat with hands behind his head, he was all smiles. “Thank you, thank you. Now, what’s the recap?”

She pulled up magenta screens as she relayed her work. “Got a live that’s going to trend, a fail compilation on Voxtube, and a commercial all ready to go. Shall we run it?”

“Run it now.”

She tapped the submit icon, but nothing changed. With a frown, she kept tapping over and over, but it was like the display was frozen. “What the? Upload, you bloody piece of shit!”

But the two Vees soon discovered that it wasn’t a technical issue, as a miniature 2-D Taylor appeared. Walking along the screen interfaces, each step was accompanied by a cartoonish-sounding patter. The tiny Overlord rocked on their heels, hands clasped behind their back.

“Mmm, yeah, no, sorry, Vel, but I’m afraid that when you logged onto the Hazbin Hotel WiFi, you agreed to our terms and services. I’m afraid due to a media embargo, you can’t release anything recorded on the premises until we clear it first — or a week passes, whichever comes first.” They shook their head snarkily. “Yeaaaah, noooo…”

“WHAT?!” Vox snarled as he and Velvette verified that her phone and the drones had been forcibly bumped off the Vee’s private network and onto the Hotel’s shitty WiFi. Why hadn’t she notice it sooner?

The small Taylor bobbed their head this way and that, wincing condescendingly. “Yeaaaah, mmmmm, sorry! Yeaaaah, no…”

“How did this happen?” Vox snarled, wires plugging into the limo’s outlets as he brought his glitching face right up to the digitized Taylor. “No one threatens us with ransomware; that’s what VoxAfee’s software is for! Velvette, can’t you do something?”

“I’m trying!” The fashionista snapped, her fingers typing furiously across her keyboard. “Each time I try to bypass the restrictions, the virus pushes back and deletes weeks of my work! V, I can’t risk it; next season’s plans are all on here!”

Unbothered, the tiny Taylor glanced up from filing their claws. “Yeeeeeeah, noooo.” They chuckled sneeringly, moving to tap each of the prepared pieces of media in succession.

“Stop!” Vox screeched, his voice overlayed with a staticky hiss as he scrambled to patch himself through in time.

“Nooooo,” The live stream’s start time was delayed in yellow text, rendering it useless. “No,” the Voxtube fail compilation was taken down with a violation claim sticker atop the video. “No.” The unaired commercial was slapped with an embargo notice.

This was not happening; this was not happening!

“How are they doing this?! Only top coders could get past our firewalls…”

Then it hit him. Only top coders would know how to get around VoxTek defenses… like the ones he used to have under his control. The ones now roaming free of the soul contract he forged and most assuredly helping to orchestrate this shit storm for Dealbreaker.

Oh, fuck.

The electronic Taylor shrugged contemptuously, not apologetic in the least.

“Anyway, sorry, guys. But those are the breaks! Yeeeeeah. Byyyyye!” They did a happy little wave before vanishing into the digital ether.

“Get back here, ya bloody wanker!” Velvette snarled. “Mark my words, I’ll rip those damned wings off and make them into a bespoke collection of dresses! Limited edition, very exclusive…”

“Damn it!” Vox cried in annoyance as he made a mental note to give his employees one hell of a yelling later. No, he’d catch more suckers with honey than vinegar; he couldn’t risk losing more disgruntled workers to Dealbreaker. He rubbed his forehead to soothe a forming headache.

“A temporary setback, but we can make it work….”

- x -

A faint breeze sent glimmering ripples along the crystal-clear lake, the Heavenly sunlight sparkling like diamonds across the surface. On the grassy shore, the whoosh of a blade, the shuffle of footwork, the flutter of wings interrupted the placid scene.

In and out. His breathing guiding the rhythm of his body as it moved through practiced exercises. This one in particular to warm up the muscles for more extensive training. It felt tranquil. Calming. Known. His mind went blank and his movements flowed without thought. Giving space to concentration and focus.

He had to get it right. To make it perfect, be perfect. He was the sword and shield, protection and destruction of threats his appointed role. When the time came, he’d be ready. So, for now, he would start at zero and struggle to one hundred. He kept repeated the movement, again, and again, and again. 

“Ha ha! Mikey, look!” An excited voice cheered, shattering his focus and he lowered his sword and stance with a shake of his head.

Looking to the source of the disturbance, he spied his twin closing the distance between them. Having left his hat behind, the height difference was plain to see — the only other way to tell the two apart being the shorter one’s rosy cheeks that he himself lacked.

“Check it out! It’s of my own design, what do you think?” Lucifer grinned proudly as he held up a roughly made figure. It was easy to tell it was some kind of bird, but outside of the extra wings, he couldn’t tell what his brother had been trying to make.

He glanced over to the spot under a tree, a pile of paperwork at the white top hat’s side. Clearly, he’d been neglecting his duties. Again.

“Shouldn’t you finish those before you start another one of your pet projects?” He asked, sheathing his blade with an admonishing look.

“I’ll have my ‘Nim worry about that; they love that stuff!” Lucifer waved off his concerns. “C’mon, whaddya think?”

Right, his twin was assigned an Ophanim to help keep him in line. He’d only met the angel once, but it was clear they were smitten by Lucifer’s charms. Sheesh, guess he’d have to pick up the slack.

“I’m thinking I’m not going to clean up your mess if the Council gets wind you’re shirking your responsibilities. Besides, isn’t there something like whatever-this-is already in the Garden? On Earth?”

Lucifer held his creation close, his exuberance burning strong as his eyes sparkled in child-like wonderment. “Psh, you have no vision, Mikey! I betcha I can learn to make these ducks so well, that they’ll look better than the real thing even! Brighter! More fun! And they’ll make everyone smile just by seeing them.” He shot him a sneaky grin. “Even you, Mr. I’m-Too-Serious-For-Games!”

With a roll of his blue eyes, Michael plucked the figure from Lucifer’s hands, raising a brow when he chucked it into the water and it sank. “Maybe start by making it float, Lu. Then we’ll see.”

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that!” Lucifer was quick to fly over to fish his precious thingamabob out from the depths. “You’re the worst, Mikey!”

He smirked, watching with a small sense of jealously he’d never outright admit. Creating and building had never been his talent, that was reserved for Lucifer. And he’d do his best to shield his twin from harsh stringency that threatened to smother his creativity.

——————

Carmilla stepped through the front doors of her home, a soft beeping getting her attention when she did. Moving to the right, she tapped in her personal code on the small touchscreen device on the wall and the beeping stopped. With another tap, she re-armed the home’s security system.

Taking a moment to readjust her youngest’s haphazardly thrown shoes neatly onto the mat by the door, the weapons dealer hung her coat and made her way inside.

Just as she stepped onto the staircase, a streak of light caught her eye. The line in question seeping through the crack of a barely open door. Specifically, to one of her brood’s rooms.

Carmilla pulled out her phone to check the time. Two o’clock in the morning. Granted, she knew someone tended to work late into the night, however, being up this late was unusual. Even for Taylor.

Pushing open the door, she smiled as she took in the sight before her.

Taylor sat on the bed, back against the wall as Odette leaned on their shoulder and Clara’s head was nestled on their lap, all three fast asleep under their sibling’s wings. Carmilla quietly approached, carefully stepping around the snacks and weapon blueprints strewn around the floor and removed Odette’s glasses before collecting their electronic devices and placing them on the nightstand.

Silently, she leaned in and placed a kiss upon each of their hairlines, careful not to wake the slumbering trio.

“You’re the best…” Taylor murmured before sighing and relaxing further, now with a small upturn on their lips.

“Good night, mis amores.” Carmilla whispered as she flipped the light off and closed the door behind her.

“… Lu.”

Chapter Text

Author note - Hello, readers! Not enough thanks for your patience nor apologies on my part for the delay. After the finale of Season 2, I had to rethink extensively of how to incorporate the canon events into the story, and it sort of paralyzed my writing. But with any luck, updates should come more frequently.

Note: The song Angel Dust, Taylor, and Cherri sing together is “Unredeemable” from the 2023 movie “Spirited.” I heard it and just thought it would be something he could potentially sing about in Season 3. Give it a listen!

I wanted to thank all who bookmarked, subscribed, or gave a kudos; shout out to Battlefontmatter, Tyrondor, MemMoodring, Mec2009c, Bellzuh, woebegone_creature, Patroclus505, GeekyGirl183, and one guest. Also, gratitude to commenter Detectivegel, always a treat to receive and reread feedback! 

Now, onwards with the story!

Chapter 5: Keeping Spirits Bright

Sir Pentious slithered down the busy streets of Heaven, Abel and Emily ahead of him. The snake concluded that he somewhat enjoyed their company. Not that he missed his friends in Hell or Cherri Bomb any less, but thanks to Emily’s thoughtful eggy creations, he felt less lonely and thus, more inclined to accept the bubbly seraphim’s invitations to give the novel realm another chance.

Stopping to urge one babbling angelic Egg Boi closer before it wandered too far, a hushed ‘psst’ drew his attention to a darkened, narrow alleyway. Before he knew it, a tall angel with big, white and pink voluminous hair grasped his hand, pressing a tightly folded piece of paper into his palm.

“When the heat’s off ya, come find me.” The figure with bright eyes that looked oddly familiar hissed. “It’s about yer friend, my fratello’s pal.”

Sir Pentious gasped in shock before she hastily backed away into the darkness.

“Wait!” He called, still reeling from the suddenness. “Who are you?”

“Not here. Make sure yer not followed!” Was all she said before turning the corner and disappearing down the maze of back alleys.

She knew something about Taylor? Like why they haven’t checked in with him or Emily during their assignment? And why did this angel remind him of someone? His head spun with questions.

“Pentious!” Emily’s voice interrupted, the snake clasping the clue in his hand tighter. “What’s the holdup?”

He hesitated. Should he tell Emily about what just occurred? No, whoever it was wanted to speak to him and him alone. He’d see this through before coming clean.

Trying to come up with an excuse, his eyes settled on the Egg Boiz lingering as a unit at the window of the neighboring storefront, one displaying an array of children’s playthings.

“Ooh, did something finally catch your eye?” Emily chimed in approvingly, seizing the opportunity to wrap an arm around his shoulder and guide, or rather, force him into the shop.

“Oh, uh…” he stammered, quickly recovering when a few choice items gave him an idea. “I was just reminded of how Taylor used to leave their toys out and Vagatha menacing up a storm to get them to put the baubles away.”

“Really?” Abel and Emily questioned with surprise, taking in the juvenile items lining the shelves. While the ascended fire angel gave off an air of boldness, the idea of them playing with toys like a kid was quite the image.

“Oh, they were quite the little hellion!” A fond smile turned the corners of Sir Pentious’ lips as he recalled the young, mischievous little fire demon getting into all sorts of trouble. “If there’s one thing we all learned, it’s you don’t present Taylor with a yellow drinking vessel! Hahaha!”

When all he got were puzzled stares, he realized an explanation was needed.

“Ah, you see,” he said, stashing the paper in his breast pocket before clearing his throat in preparation for a story, “There was an accident involving a youth potion…”

- x -

Upon hearing the door close, Vaggie looked up from where she manned the check-in counter and sighed. Seeing Taylor spare a furtive glance at Charlie busy running a confidential group venting session, her suspicions were confirmed when the ascended fire demon strode over with several crumpled papers held in one hand.

“Can you believe it?” Taylor uttered tensely, keeping their voice down. “Look what I found pinned to the door.”

The former Exorcist watched as they laid the pages on the counter for her to see. Once she realized what she was looking at, she couldn’t help share Taylor’s anger. Death threats and hate mail. Not just one, but several, all aiming their vitriol toward Charlie. There were a couple letters, lewd drawings, and a picture of the princess with her eyes scratched out. This wasn’t the first time this had happened since the Hotel’s grand re-opening — no, it had become a near daily occurrence — but it continued to unsettle them. Thankfully, the blonde had yet to find out as everyone managed to get rid of missives before she had a chance to see them. She’d been doing so well, taking the interview bootcamp like a trooper while Vaggie did her best to limit her doomscrolling.

“Hijos de una gran putana.” Vaggie swore, gritting her teeth as she kept her anger under control as to not alert her girlfriend. “Charlie helped save everyone from the Extermination. Demons should be thanking her, not ridiculing her!”

“Tell me about it. People here are the worst.” Taylor replied, voice steady. “But Charlie showed that they can change. We just need to open their eyes, prove to them that they can do better. She’s got the evidence here and up in Heaven, after all.”

Taylor gestured to the lobby at large, but the gathered demons seemed to paint a fractured image of a place promising redemption. Husk was in a sour mood, his fight with Angel Dust still weighing on him, not to mention Alastor being particularly unhelpful, even for him. Lucifer kept to himself mostly, showing up for meals or to butt heads with the Radio Demon. The only happy person seemed to be Niffty, a blossoming rapport forming between her and Baxter (though it still looked pretty one-sided at this point).

They looked back at Vaggie with a wry expression, trying to keep up the faith in the face of the seemingly insurmountable task.

“That’s all thanks to you and Charlie. Without your encouragements, no one would’ve given any of this a chance.” They said in gratitude, eyes hardening as they turned back to the hate-filled communications on the counter. “Sure, there may be some that aren’t worthy of redemption, but we’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now, we need to focus on what’s important… Charlie’s dream, our friends, and don’t forget yourself, Miss Hotel manager.”

A smile stretched across Vaggie’s lips, nodding in agreement as she knew that they spoke the truth. Noticing a shadow lingering in the doorway, Taylor excused themselves, but not before snapping their fingers and incinerating the papers they found. Making their way to the hallway toward the elevators, they found Cherri Bomb waiting for them. The two stood in silence for a moment before the bombastic demoness sighed and crossed her arms.

“More threats?” She asked, frustration leaking into her voice.

“Yeah, more of the same.” They replied nonchalantly, suspecting a different motive for her to seek them out. “How’s he doing?”

“He didn’t show for group… again.” She stated, flipping her hair to hide a worried look. “I’m here because of Angie, and I’ll be damned if I have to sit through that dull as dishwater shit by myself.”

“Right,” Taylor said, their sarcasm hiding their disquiet. Melanie had mentioned that their mutual friend called in sick to work as well. “Let’s go sort out that knucklehead, shall we?”

With a nod, the two made their way up to the spider’s quarters. Quickly rapping their knuckles on the door, the sound echoed down the empty corridor, certainly loud enough for the occupant to hear.

Cherri and Taylor shared a glance as a minute passed with the scratching of small hooves against the door, huffing quietly when they knocked again more insistently. “Angel? We know you’re in there. C’mon, Fat Nuggets is getting upset.”

There was a muffled groan heard from within before the lock clicked and the demon pig’s grunting receded from the door.

Stepping inside, Angel flopped heavily on the bed, letting the concerned pet piglet nudge one of his arms. His white hair was a mess of tangles atop his head, mismatched eyes looking at his visitors passively.

Taylor paused as they took in the usually immaculate man’s appearance, reminding them of Charlie’s depression spiral after her failed attempt to negotiate with Heaven and the revelation of Vaggie’s history as an Exorcist.

They were glad Cherri was there, as the cyclopean demoness was quick move to Angel’s vanity and collect various items before taking a seat next to him. “Ya look like right shit, bitch.”

“Dammit, Cherri,” Angel growled as he shifted to heave himself upright, as if the old friends had done this song and dance before. “I’m not in the mood.”

Cherri wasn’t hearing it, already wiping the smeared mascara off and getting to redoing his whole face. “Hey, make yourself useful and give me a light, will ya?”

Taylor obliged, summoning some flames to hover around the room, bathing the space in a warming light. For a minute no one said anything, Cherri deftly applying cosmetics as Angel looked like he was wrestling with something: shoulders drooped, the lack of a playful spark to his eyes, hand drumming agitatedly along his thigh.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” They asked, Cherri cementing her glow up with setting powder. “You haven’t been going to therapy or work for that matter.”

“It’s nuthin’,” He shrugged. “Just a headache.”

They opened their mouth to protest, but paused, not wanting to push his boundaries after the Vee’s visit. Instead, they offered a simple reminder. “Okay. But if you need anything, anything at all, no matter how small, seemingly trivial or even at an ungodly hour, you let me know. I’ll come running, no questions asked. I promised I’d protect you until you get redeemed, after all, and I intend to see it through.”

The assertion made Angel stiffen, his expression weary and guilty as he shifted his attention to them.

“But… what if I’m… forever…

Unredeemable?”

Cherri scoffed. “Say what? Get a grip, mate, you’re talkin’ nonsense!”

Angel stood, eyes pleading as he sang with a wavering voice.

“But can I ever overcome,

All the wrongs I’m running from?”

As the spider took listless strides away, Cherri went to allay his fears, speaking rationally. “Listen Angie, even I can admit the hotel is workin’ for you. The princess is right; you’ve gotta be close to making up for all that by now!”

Angel Dust didn’t agree, singing morosely.

“Can my worst be left behind.

And do I deserve to find,

There’s a soul who could see any good in me?”

He turned to face them, fearing the answer he’d get but needing to know.

“Or will I only ever be…

Unredeemable?”

Taylor stepped forward. “There’s only one way to find out, big guy.”

Angel tore his gaze away, the room around them darkened, a crowd of cloaked figures silently appearing before the trio. He paced, hard resignation overlaying his singing.

“Spent every minute taking all that I could take.

Never stopped to reckon with the ruin in my wake.

With all the bridges that I burned, all the wounds I didn’t mend.”

He whipped around, holding his tremulous hands before him.

“All the worth I thought I earned, it turned worthless in the end!”

Angel Dust’s breath hitched, Cherri shaking her head while Taylor’s chest tightened in sympathy before he composed himself.

“What was it for?

Well, is it possible

I’m meant for something more?”

The spider stopped in his tracks when movement in the crowd caught his eye. Husk and Molly stepped into view, their tender smiles bright beacons among the darkened masses. He wiped away the happy tears prickling his eyes as he made his way through the throng.

“Am I forever unredeemable?

Can I be a man who breaks from a lifetime of mistakes?”

He kept up the pursuit, his two guiding lights occasionally glancing back at him as they moved just out of his reach.

“Can my worst be left behind? And do I deserve to find,

A kind of love that I can lean on

Everyday?”

Angel reached out desperately, having difficultly pushing aside the obstacles when his sister and friend weaved behind a taller demon, disappearing from view.

“Or I will I learn I have to stay

Unredeemable?”

Finally getting through, he halted his advance in horror as the scene on the roof of the Hazbin Hotel played back before him, a past Angel Dust stepping back in fear as Vox’s shadow hovered over him.

“Killed your dad, right?” The TV-headed demon jeered with a wide grin. “What did he do? Hit you?”

Valentino’s smoke appeared around the second Angel Dust, voice dripping with malice as he hissed venomously. “You’re wasting your time, Angel Cakes. Addict trash like you doesn’t change.”

Stumbling back, the terrible memory vanished and Angel collapsed, gripping his face as he uttered one word.

“Unredeemable?”

Hearing footsteps approach, he shakily looked up to find Taylor and Cherri were in front of him. The ascended fire demon and his gal pal held out a hand each to him, steadfast looks in their eyes.

“Are you sure?”

A pained look flashing across his face as he hesitated. Was he? A growing brightness had him looking over his shoulder in shock, the Hazbin residents there and singing encouragingly.

“We have to believe inside the worst of us

There is some decency there.”

“Decency there.” Cherri and Taylor reprised.

“You know that you can achieve something miraculous

If you’d only dare.”  

“If you dare, if you dare!” The words echoed.

Turning back, Angel Dust took the outstretched hands with a genuine grin, realizing his friends were literally behind him all the way as he added his voice to the spirited anthem.

“I have to go, I have to try!”

Taylor and Cherri cheered before following the spider as he sang heartily.

“That’s how I’ll know

Know if IIIIIIIII’m…

Forever unredeemable!”

“Unredeemable!” Taylor and Cherri returned as they raised their arms skyward with everyone.

“If I’ll ever be someone who makes up for all he’s done.

Or is all I am unlovable?”

“Unlovable!” The Hotel crew repeated.

“Am I someone someone can forgive?

Can I take the leap and live?”

Angel Dust did an about-face, smiling ardently at his support group.

“There’s a lot I’d leave behind

But I gotta go and find, if it’s true

That there is truly good in me!”

“Truly!” Everyone echoed, Charlie’s megawatt smile, the first person to believe in him down in Hell, giving Angel Dust strength.

“And maybe see that I won’t always be

Unredeemable!”

He jumped slightly, Taylor and Cherri hooking their arms in his in a show of camaraderie. “Unredeemable!”

“Am I unredeemable?” He wondered.

His two buddies answered in an instant. “We’ll redeem the unredeemable!”

With matching grins, the trio looked out to the unseeable future, holding the final word together.

“Un-re-deem-a-bleeee!”

With that, the three were back in Angel’s room, breathless as Fat Nuggets squealed exuberantly and jumped at their feet, his own means to inspirit his owner.

“Hey,” Cherri said, undoing the arm chain. “Don’t forget, you’re still my favorite guy to party with, so you’d better get the scoop on Heaven’s best clubs for when I catch up, yeah?”

“Wow, I’m so hurt.” Taylor deadpanned, putting an arm over their heart in mock hurt. “OW!”

Cherri chuckled as she retracted her fist from where she punched Taylor. “Serves ya right. Get to learnin’ on making portals so we can show these fuckin’ bogans the truth already!”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds!”

“All I’m hearin’ is excuses, Overlord bush telly!”

Angel Dust sighed contentedly.

Maybe, just maybe, he had a shot at seeing his sister in the flesh after all.

- x -

Much to Carmilla’s surprise, when dinner was just about ready to be served, Taylor was nowhere in sight.

“They’re in the training hall.” Odette offered as she set out plates. “Said they wanted to fine-tune some of their techniques before we ate.”

With a nod, Carmilla made her way over to fetch them. “Oh, Cariño,” Since their return, she cherished each instance of being able to use the term of endearment. She slowly opened the door. “It’s—”

Her words fell short when she laid eyes on them in a very… interesting position. Taylor was in perfect balance, ‘standing’ on their fingertips with their feet pointed up at the ceiling. Their wings slowly moved, correcting the slightest of sways, as they kept themselves in a perfect pole position. She could see their chest rising up and down, eyes shut in concentration but expression calm. As if the difficult thing they were doing were mere child’s play.

With a deep inhale, they bent their elbows, body slowly descending until their head barely skimmed the floor. The slight tremble and the sweat dripping down their neck were the only physical tells of the strain on their body.

Suddenly pushing through their fingers, they drove themselves into the air and while still upside-down, launched a serpentining swirl of blistering fire at the targets hung across the room. With a graceful flip, they stuck the landing, breathing labored as they inspected their work: Of the ten targets set out, the farthest one in the corner was not set ablaze. Missed.

“Almost perfect.” Carmilla noted quietly.

There was a minute scoff, a fist curling to clench at their side as they turned to look at her, a look she hadn’t seen before in those bright golden eyes. “Almost isn’t good enough.”

A shiver raked through Carmilla, for reasons she didn’t understand.

“Dinner is ready.” Is the only thing she could come up to say, still taken slightly aback.

“Hmm. Guess I miscalculated by a few minutes.” They waved a hand, extinguishing the flames. “Can I get a few more to change clothes?” They asked, not expecting her to say no as they were drenched in sweat.

The weapons dealer only nodded and they dipped their head in gratitude before striding past her, not giving a second glance as their mind still seemed far away.

Disciplined. Focused. Unyielding like a mountain refusing to bow to the howling winds.

That was what Carmilla saw in those eyes. What had gotten over them?

- x -

Clara, Odette, and Taylor clasped onto each other’s shoulders, huddled around the table.

“Okay, this’ll be our first job together.” Taylor uttered, back to their usual self, eyes present and a dynamic look on their face.

“We’ll show them how it’s done.” Odette asserted.

“Hell isn’t ready for the take down.” Clara added, grin widening.

“Which means… time to carb load!”

Carmilla and Zestial raised their eyebrows, watching as the younger diners dove into their spread like starved beasts, animatedly snatching and scarfing down the plethora of food options her daughters brought to supplement what the matriarch had prepared.

“C’mon, you’re gonna need like 10,000 calories to fuel that firepower.” Odette said, lobbing an arepa at Taylor in a high arc, the fire angel catching the tossed treat and wolfing it down without skipping a beat.

“A thousand percent.” Clara agreed through stuffed cheeks. “A gajillion percent.”

“Man, that’s not even a real number.” Taylor replied as they ravenously shoved down a whole meat skewer, pulling out a clean stick through their teeth.

Carmilla’s turned her eyes away from the crumbs and discarded packages flying to observe Zestial’s reaction.

“Art youths of this age always so lively?”

To anyone else, the Spider Overlord would appear calm and relaxed. Because of their familiarity, though, Carmilla was able to read him just as easily as he could her.

And right now, he radiated bewilderment and unease.

“Surprisingly, yes.” Carmilla placed a hand upon the taller demon’s arm. “Fair warning, I’d keep to items on this side of the table if I were you. No telling if we get some accidental cannibalism.”

In between slurps of their noodles, Taylor posed a question. “Have you two settled on weapons?”

“Ooh, a naginata for me!” Clara piped up before changing her mind. “No, wait, sais! No, no, but maybe…”

Odette rolled her eyes. “Why are we using weapons from Japan’s Edo Period?”

“‘Cause I can’t make guns on the fly. Too many parts involved and the venue will check weapons at the door anyway.” Taylor pointed out with their chopsticks. “You might get lucky and find one on-site, though no guarantees.”

“Plus, The Edo Period was badass, and you know it!” Clara defended, ripping open a bag of chips and chomping on a handful.

Odette yielded with a tsk. “Dammit, you’re right. Throwing knives for me then; they’re the most practical, after all.”

Finally, Carmilla smiled as the frenzied atmosphere abated and the three sighed, lying back in their seats while basking in post-feast contentedness.

“Movies?” Clara posited with half-lidded eyes and a toothy smile, hoping to keep the pre-game going.

Taylor shook their head apologetically. “Nah, for real for real, that workout left me completely wiped out. Thinking a hot shower and an early night’s rest will do me some good.”

“It would do you all some good.” Carmilla agreed in a sagely tone, eyeing her brood and effectively shutting down any late-night plans. “It’ll be crucial that you’re well rested for tomorrow.”

After dinner, they wished everyone a good night and went up to their room. Their mind still fired on all cylinders as they striped themselves bare and stepped into a well-deserved shower. It helped immediately release some of the coiling stress from stretching their muscles to their limits. They kept up high spirits because of their sister’s excitement, but within, the unshakable apprehension was twisting their insides into knots.

Because this time, they couldn’t mess up. Not with Clara and Odette with them. If they got hurt, that’s fine — preferable even — but they’d be double-damned if anything happened to their family on a job.

The ran a hand through their hair with a heavy sigh. Maybe they were fretting for nothing. Odette and Clara could handle themselves, and they were the Dealbreaker Demon; they took down an archangel. Barely. They could afford to be kinder to themselves.

You can’t be kinder to yourself. You have to push further. Harder. Be relentless on your mind, body, and soul.

They braced for a searing burn they knew wasn’t coming, hearing the harshness loud and clear in their head like they stood right behind them. Whipping the words into their very being. But that scumbag’s gone now. They’re doing this their way, because they want to, not because they have to. Never because they have to again.

“Get a grip, Taylor. This is your life now. My own choices.” They whispered to themselves as the hot water lulled them.

- x -

Again.

That’s what I tell myself. No matter if I do well. No matter if I do poorly. It’s always not enough. Never enough. Not fast enough. Not clean enough. Not focused enough. Not sharp enough. Always improving, never faltering, never stopping.

Again.

That’s what Phenex keeps saying as I stand in the conjured city-scape, arms up at shoulder height. Never allowed to lower them even a millimeter. For hours. For hours I hold them up, ignoring how my muscles jump between cramping and going numb. I keep my mouth clenched and breathing steady, huffing out a breath each time I’m struck with bamboo swords. Never faltering, never making a sound besides breathing. Never flinching or else crimson eyes would flash in sadistic satisfaction and I had to do it again. Start over again.

Again

Lu quickly turned his face away, hiding himself from his searching eyes. He was starting to hate the gesture. Why would he do that? They were twins; they shared everything with each other. Was it something he did, said? Maybe if he waited, was patient, then Lu would forgive him and stop the lies. But it kept happening. Over and over.

Again.

Another slash. And another. And another. Strike at the exact same place. The exact same speed. The exact same technique. The wood splintering, chipping away slowly. My skin sticking to the blade’s handle. The callouses on my palms bleeding. But I don’t bleed, only my skin does. The golden ichor seeping out doesn’t matter, a broken finger or sprain don’t matter. Just another strike.

Again.

Don’t breathe. Don’t think about breathing or your lungs will want it, crave it. There’s isn’t air around, so there isn’t any point in trying. Just calm your thrashing heart, deny your lungs and hold out. I gulp in air once Phenex wrenches my head up from the ice-cold waters. “Tsk, tsk, still that defiant look in your eyes, little one.” Damn it. Again. Drowning again. Husk always said my poker face was shit.

Again.

It happened again. He’s hiding things. He goes off with Lilith without him, and when I ask what they did, Lu would give me a vague “it was fun,” or “we spent time by the water,” and nothing more.

Again.

Phenex’s nightmarish silhouette eclipsed my shadow as another layer to the mark was seared into me.

Again.

I sheathe and unsheathe my sword not fast enough for the 785th time in a row.

Again.

The whip came down on my back—

Again.

Once he stopped telling me everything, he told me less and less. He didn’t talk to me about Eve, about the Apple—

Again.

My footwork was off by 3 centimeters to the left this time.

Again.

A gruesome crunch as silver burst through chests, gold and red intermingling before lifeless bodies fell to the ground. Now for the squalling aberration—

Again.

Another debilitating wave of energy slammed into me, the crimson-eyed fiend in control disregarding how my body couldn’t take anymore—

Again again again again again.

- x -

Taylor awoke with a startled yet dazed gasp, bathed in sweat once more. Induced by nightmares of their past… right? Chest heaving in an unsteady rhythm, their body was on alert. All their muddled mind knew was that their whole being thrummed, ached, to move. They had to move. There was no other recourse. They had to do it again.

With a stumbling yet doggedly persistent pace, they headed towards the training hall. On the way, they spotted something in the empty kitchen. A broom. No, a staff; they needed a staff. They’d been neglecting practicing with a staff. Urgently grasping the cleaning equipment, they broke the end off. That will do.

Hurrying to their destination, they took a second to take a deep breath and began to train. Blanking their mind as they swung the stick. Doing the same steps over and over again. Fighting some invisible enemies for only their eyes to see. The onslaught never disappearing.

   - x -

Taylor wasn’t the only one still awake. Carmilla sat in her study, inspecting a blueprint spread across the desk as she finished up a last-minute task. She took a sip from her strong drink when a resonant snap echoed from the first floor, pulling her attention away from the schematics. Who would be up at this hour, or worse, foolishly break into her home?

She secured her slippers before silently making her way toward the noise. Finding no evidence of intruders prowling, she was about to return when she homed in on a soft creak, the training hall’s door left open a few inches.

Her clawed hand wrapped around the handle and she slowly opened the door. Despite no light inside, her eyes could see perfectly in the dark. She recognized the culprit’s form and heard them moving. Their footwork, their breathing. Whooshing sounds of something bigger. When her eyes adjusted further, Carmilla could see Taylor wielded a stick, swinging it with a precision and speed that would be deadly if it had been anything other than a… broomstick?

“Cariño, don’t you think you’ve done enough training for today?” They didn’t listen, ignoring her as they continued like she wasn’t there. Her eyes narrowed, not liking being ignored. “Do I need to restrain you so you don’t over-exhaust yourself?” She tried again, louder, as she stepped forward. But no reaction still. Her frown deepened. “Are you serious? You’re being outright respectless—”

That is when she caught their eyes. Eyes that were worlds away, seeing and living in a different realm. It wasn’t like before where she could see them through the veil — this was a fortress they were behind. Mind and soul not present, just the body moving on autopilot. Based on the practiced fluidity, having done this probably a million times over. Carmilla’s eyes softened into worry.

“Cariño?” No response. “Taylor.” The urgency in her voice rose as she walked closer. “That’s enough—”

Only when she grasped their wrist did the fire angel become aware of her presence, which she would regret in an instant. They swung the broomstick in one hand and unexpectedly dropped down to their knees, pulling her down before the back of the stick connected under her chin, and she released her grip.

With a swift two-handed swing, Carmilla’s feet were knocked out from under her and the weapons dealer landed on her back with a grunt. Taylor was already on top of her, ready to plunge the sharp-edged side of the stick into her. For a moment, hollow icy-blue eyes stared through her. Empty of remorse, recognition, of anything familiar. No hesitation when they lifted the broom higher above their head, stabbing down—

“TAYLOR!” Her frantic screech snapped them out of their trance, blue-hued eyes shifting back to gold. Said eyes were wide and wild as the tip of the wood hovered mere millimeters from where it would connect with Carmilla’s throat.

The wooden clatter reverberated off the training hall floor, their hands frozen and open as they visibly tried to piece together what they’d been doing. Taylor shot up, a sudden wave of nausea making them sprint to the window. Just in time as they opened it and leaned over the sill, heaving up the contents of their stomach. Bile burned the back of their throat as their hyperventilating made their vision waver.

A hand on their shoulder had them whip around, pushing themselves back against the windowsill before realizing it was Carmilla. Smiling in the most uncomfortable way they’d ever seen from her. A bruise beginning to bloom on her cheek. “I-I-I—” Their legs gave out, sliding down onto the floor when the words didn’t come. Carmilla followed them down, sitting in front of them.

Taylor didn’t know what happened; some force spurred them into training, their mind blanking like it was something they’d always done and known. It was too much like before, when Phenex possessed them. Of waking to find themselves in unexpected places, having done things against their will. They looked down, hands clasping together like they might start moving on their own again. Phenex was dead; they made sure of it. So how come they weren’t in control?

Carmilla’s mind was also running on overtime as she tried to keep it together for Taylor’s sake. She knew about the night terrors, but she didn’t know. Didn’t know nor realize how truly visceral the experiences were for them.

“I… I’m sorry.” Taylor said finally, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, Carmilla.”

She let out a soft sigh. “Cariño, you have nothing to a—”

“No,” they cut her off, interlaced fingers clutching tighter. “No, no, you don’t get to say that. What I did, how I… how I almost impaled you, it was fucked up.” They took a shuddered breath. “And I could’ve just as easily grabbed a weapon, gone into someone’s room and ended them.”

As much as she didn’t want to agree, seeing as numerous angelic steel weapons decorated their home, precautions would have to be taken. Discreetly, of course. Perhaps Zestial could station a spider outside their bedroom door to alert her if they seemed out of sorts.

Carmilla was pulled from her brooding when hands seized her shoulders, golden eyes screaming in desperation. “But you snapped me out of it. Unintentionally maybe, but you did. Forge a soul contract with me.” She gave a sharp intake of breath at the demand, eyes creaking open along their halo. “I know you can stop me, restrain me, keep me from doing something I don’t want to. Please, you’re someone I know won’t abuse—”

Their upset rambling was muffled by a tight hug, Carmilla cradling the back of their head. “I’m honored you would trust me with that, but we don’t need to go that far, not yet.” A soothing hand moved in a circular motion through their hair to calm them. “I know you’re scared, but I’m your mother; it’s my job to keep you safe so you can get better and stronger and achieve great things.”

Slowly, Carmilla felt them relax into the embrace, their halo’s bright glow fading to its normal shimmer. “Can I ask, Cariño,” Their brows furrowed, bracing for the question. “Did you destroy my broom to use as a makeshift weapon?”

Of all the things to ask them, that wasn’t what they expected. It caught them off guard, so much so that they pulled back with a chuckle that grew into unfiltered laughter. Carmilla’s own soon joined them, the tense atmosphere surrounding the near-miss set aside for now. When they quieted down, small smiles played on both their faces, but the weapons dealer’s hold on them didn’t lessen. “Don’t worry, I’ll replace it. Can I be released?”

Carmilla hummed lightly, amusement written on her face as she tugged them back against her. “I have half a mind to make you sweep the entire place with just the broom head for the next month as punishment. But, to start, maybe being confined for a little while longer will teach you to not break things to get out of doing chores.” Her heart swelled when they laughed.

“What a hell.” They mumbled, which had her chuckling as well.

“The worst!”

Neither knew nor cared how long they sat there, both unwilling or too spent to break away. At some point, Carmilla suddenly felt Taylor’s weight shift and she quickly adjusted her hold. When she looked down, she realized they’d nodded off in her arms. She smiled lovingly, praying that whatever god had gifted her family this angel that they'd never be taken away. Not again.

- x -

She forgave them.

The realization echoed in Sera’s head as she stared down at the miniature scrying orb, watching the close call and resolution unfold between Taylor and one Carmilla Carmine.

The High Seraphim had been conducting her own clandestine search for the missing redeemed soul, the fruitless search heightening her sense of urgency more and more by the day. After not locating Taylor at the Hotel of the daughter of the Morningstar, she widened her search to glimpse upon Hell in secret and finally located them in a warehouse district — but not before seeing more depravity than she ever cared to witness.

Why did the image before her bother her so much?

After the High Seraphim was dressed down by Taylor at the trial about her complicity in the decision to hide the truth about the yearly Exterminations, an investigation into the fire demon was ordered.

While their origins were unremarkable, Taylor proved to be a chaotic entity upon their arrival, flipping things on their head both in Hell and later Heaven, shaking up long-held status quos. The Council was wise to judge this soul as too dangerous, too powerful if taken by nefarious forces. It was the responsible thing to do.

… Right?

But they had a family, ones they cared, cherished… demons they were willing to sacrifice their mortal soul for to keep safe, a voice in her head countered.

Why did the sight of seeing these two together make her so upset, turn her stomach? Why did the thought of ripping the angel away make her feel sick? For a moment, the image of her and Emily seeking each other out when needed, the feeling of belonging, acceptance, and safety—

“Restless night, Sera?”

The High Seraphim yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin as she spun around, wings flaring wide to block the orb from the view.

“Whoa, whoa!” Michael put his hands up beseechingly. “Hey, it’s just me, it’s okay!”

She let out a strained exhale as she willed her body to release some of the tension, clearing her throat when a bit of embarrassment prickled on her cheeks. “My apologies, Michael.” She said, “I guess I am a little on edge this evening.”

“Understandable, given… everything…” he trailed off with an idle wave of his hand. “I’ve found training to be my go-to when things get a bit… much.” Sera did notice the Archangel was sporting a post-workout glow. “Do you need help?”

“No, I think I’m done for today.” She said quickly as she turned away, dispelling the scrying orb. “Thank you for the offer.”

“I see.” He said from behind her, feeling his eyes boring into her. “Very well… I guess I’ll retire as well.”

Sera urged herself to keep her cool as she went for the door.

“Aren’t you going to ask, Sera?”

She paused.

“… What?” She asked, slowly looking over her shoulder to him.

There was a strange hollowness in his icy-blue eyes from where he stood.

“You’ve been so keen to inquire about how the search for our wayward redeemed soul is faring…”

Her heart stopped. Did Michael suspect? Had she not been careful enough? Was this him hinting at her to come clean?

She turned away, placing a hand to her temple to feign exhaustion. “Apologies, it seems my mind is elsewhere these days. I can only assume there has been no change, but I have faith in your abilities.” She stepped into the corridor, wings itching to put some distance between the uncomfortable situation. “Good night, Michael.”

As the High Seraphim’s footfalls receded, a suffocating pressure billowed from the Archangel, the unyielding gravity of Michael’s presence filling the empty space.

It was happening again.

Just like with Lu.