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Chapter Text

Sparks buzz and snap around Lucifer. He’s still suspended in this round box (he really needs to stop calling it a box, maybe a jar?) in full discomfort as the restraints hum with a sound that absolutely isn’t good. Even the air crackles, making his throat dry.

He tilts his head, staring at the metallic ceiling of TV Man’s angelic abomination. He sighs.

“Fantastic. This is what I get for letting that walking DVR get the drop on me. Father just had to give sinners voice-mimicry. Fun times, Dad.”

A spark zaps his ribs.

“Ow! Keep it up, and I’m banning technology forever. I’ll have Satan do it. Bet he’d love a return to the good ol’ West.”

The machine, naturally, ignores him. It only whirrs louder as he pulls uselessly at Heaven-made bindings.

Static fills the room as shadows engulf Lucifer’s vision for a second, distorting the walls of the jar-box-thing.

And then Alastor steps out.

His smile clicks into place before he fully materializes, making the lights flicker. He fixes the lapels of his coat with a gloved hand, humming like he’s arriving fashionably late to a dinner party.

Lucifer’s luck is just going great, isn’t it? “There’s the headache. Hey, weren’t you just strapped to a chair a few minutes ago?”

Alastor grinned wider, if possible. 

“Thank you for your concern, sire,-”

“As if I’d care about you, asshole.”

“-but everything has been solved. In fact, you could say I’ve dealt with 3 birds with one stone.”

The King rolls his eyes at the overlord. “Yeah, I still have no clue what any of you are saying.” He hears a laugh track play from Alastor’s direction. “Nothing to worry your short little head about, Your Majesty.”

“Are you just here to make fun of me?”

“Not this time.”

…

“Well?”

“You should know that me being here instead of out there is a major sacrifice on my part. I could be fighting Vox right now and saving your daughter, thus reclaiming my fearsome reputation. But I chose to be here simply cause I believe this investment is significantly better on both our parts. Although…” 

The deer circles the machine slowly, each step landing with rhythmic, deliberate clicks. He moves like he’s examining an exhibit: The Devil — Do Not Tap the Glass.

“I’m not sure if I should applaud you or judge you, sire. With how great of an actor you are. Why, you could even give Angel a run for his money!”

Lucifer squints. “The fuck you talkin’ about, Bambi?”

He hums. “I simply wonder how long you’ll keep up this ridiculous act of a bumbling, idiotic father.”

Lucifer opens his mouth, but Alastor lifts a finger, politely hushing him.

“Charlie was always confiding in our resident ex-exorcist about her oh-so-feared father. Terrifying, brilliant, cunning. The fallen archangel whose temper could scorch a kingdom.”

He stops in front of the pod, leaning in slightly.

“So imagine my surprise,” he continues, “when our first encounter revealed… this pathetic display.”

He gestures broadly to the exaggerated grimace Lucifer had been using to annoy TV guy. How long has he been in here? Too long. By Father, he hates this red guy so much.

Lucifer sticks his tongue out because pettiness is free.

“A performance so forced it’s practically insulting,” Alastor says, smile flattening. “Take it from me, Your Majesty… It’s a shameful show for someone of your supposed caliber.”

Lucifer just stares, unreadable. He could break out anytime, you know, if he wanted. But Heaven-light restraints are annoying as hell, and honestly, it sounds like the mess out there is not worth the effort. 

‘Charlie would be fine. Probably.’ He thinks.

And if Vox and some random sinner decide to mess with Heaven, that’s on them. They’ll blame him regardless. Bah humbug.

Alastor tilts his head smugly. “Won’t even try to deny it, hmm?”

The Devil’s expression drains in an instant. Gone is the playfulness, the clownish smirk, and the devil-may-care tilt of his brow. Alastor’s smile flickers. Just slightly. The sudden change startled him a bit.

Lucifer’s eyes, once gleaming with mischief, now look carved from cooling obsidian. 

Then the Devil smirks.

“Tsk. Didn’t your master ever teach you manners?”

Alastor’s jaw tightens. 

A low, delighted laugh escapes Lucifer. “Hah! Not so fun when you’re the one getting exposed, is it? But sure, ya caught me.”

He wiggles his brows. “What now? Gonna tell Charlie?” He blows a raspberry. “Go right ahead, man. What’s one more thing for her to hate me for?”

Alastor’s smile returns, stretched tight like a violin string. However, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Lucifer’s gaze narrows in faint interest—aha! Lucifer: 1, Deer: 0.

Alastor speaks again, all pleasantness. “I want to propose a partnership. I believe it would be beneficial for both of us. I can dispose of these lowly demons for you while you give me the power to do so. You would just need to say the word and I’ll-”

Lucifer blinks. Lucifer tried, he really did!, to pull himself together. He promises to Charlie that -

“Oh-oh my fucking-” He wheezes, body trying to double forward against his restraints. “You- haa- you walked in here-” Another burst of helpless laughter jolts through him, shoulders shaking. “With that stupid shit eating grin and said-” He breaks off, choking on his own breath. “-said ‘I’ll be your obedient servant, sire,’ like—pff—like a goddamn salesman! Oh fuck, hold on—”

His tail pops out mid-laughter, flailing as he wheezes.

A tear slips down his cheek. Lucifer drags in a breath that immediately dissolves into another frantic cackle. “Red guy, please. Stop talking, you’re actually killing me. I’m already trapped in this knock-off Roomba-”

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Such childishness.” 

Lucifer either doesn’t hear or chooses not to.

“-don’t let my cause of death be your fucking job application—” He sniffles, tail swiping across his face. “Oh my god, I’m crying. This is so stupid. You made me cry, you asshole. Hey. Ever considered going into comedy?” He wheezes again, laughter tumbling out in hiccups. “I mean, I’m flattered, but you do realize no matter what power I give you, it won’t be enough to usurp me, right? You can’t spin this, Red. There’s no version of this where you come on. top. of. me.”

He taps the glass right at Alastor’s face with the tip of his tail.

Alastor’s smile twitches. “You truly should watch what comes out of your mouth, Lucifer. Lest Angel Dust would take you up on that proposition.”

Lucifer frowns. “Huh? What’d I say?”

“But of course,” Alastor continues lightly. “I am not stupid enough to attempt killing the Devil like Vox. I merely ask for a… sliver of free will.”

Lucifer eyes him, tail flicking side to side in thought.

“Enough to do as you wish me to do,” Alastor clarifies. “But not enough to betray you.”

Lucifer snorts. “Bold of you to assume you could betray me.” Alastor bows his head slightly. “Then we are in agreement?”

Lucifer pretends to consider as he taps his cheek with this tail. A few short agonizing seconds just to fuck with Alastor’s inner turmoil.

Then he shrugs. “Alright then.”

Alastor brightens. “Then, shall we—”

“Upupupup,” Lucifer interrupts. “Hold your horses.”

Flame spirals out from his chest, forming a floating sheet of golden parchment. The air feels heavier suddenly, making even the machine whine.

“Read it,” Lucifer says. “Those are my conditions.”

Alastor leans in. His smile dims just a fraction.

“You don’t like it?” Lucifer teases. “That’s my non-negotiable, Al. Temporary power only when I say you can use it. Don’t want you goin’ all willy-nilly with my magic. Shit’s dangerous stuff, you know. Heaven certainly thought so, built this whole place for me and everything.”

His tail gestures lazily. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Certainly not!” Alastor laughs. “I love a challenge. I need fear, sire. Not true power. I only need everyone to think I have it.”

He straightens. “So… how do I sign, Your Majesty?”

Lucifer smirks. 

He poofs into a snake, slithers through the vents, drops onto a pile of cables, and reforms like the dramatic bastard he is.

“Still got it.”

He snaps his fingers, and Alastor’s old chain shatters into glowing embers on the ground. The Radio Demon barely gets to breathe and process his freedom until Lucifer moves. The king’s hand snaps out, stopping just a breath from Alastor’s throat.

And then Lucifer yanks.

A new golden chain manifests around Alastor’s throat, burning, and it drags him down a step. 

This chain is nothing like Rosie’s. This one is making him drunk with power already. 

“Kneel for me, dog.”

Alastor huffs, “I should clarify that I am a deer, sire.” But his knees hit the floor anyway.

It’s the first time he’s ever looked up at Lucifer. Or at anyone, if Alastor was being honest. The perspective shift is dizzying. It feels both right and wrong at the same time.

Lucifer raises a hand, “From this day forward, you, Alastor ██████—”

Alastor’s eyes snap open at the sound of his long-lost surname.

“- are the Devil’s, and the Devil’s alone to command. Do you accept?”

Alastor’s breath trembles.

“Yes.”

Lucifer swipes across the air. A sting flares across Alastor’s throat, his blood splattering onto the parchment, sealing the pact in ink.

A slow, vicious smile curves Lucifer’s mouth.

“Go on then, Bambi.”

He points a finger upward.

“Fetch.”

And Alastor shoots into the air, an emerald streak of power trailing behind him with a faint golden outline of a chain glinting in his wake.

Chapter Text

Where the hell did Alastor go?

After using his favour to make Charlie force Vox to touch her and slip out of the TV man’s contract, she fully expected the Radio Demon to sprint straight toward Vox and kickstart the infamous fight that would probably level half the Pentagram.

But that didn’t happen.

The moment he was free, Alastor just… vanished. He melted into the shadows, and oh boy, Vox had been furious, so furious that he forgot about Heaven, about the broadcast, and about humiliating Charlie in front of half of Hell. He just snapped and is now aiming the angelic beam at everyone and everything.

The connection to Heaven was still not going through. Baxter wasn’t responding. Nifty either. Charlie stood there, heart pounding and utterly lost. She couldn’t reach the pair, didn’t know if Cherri and Husk had managed to extract Angel, and Vaggie was poking Vox’s weapon in a hopeless struggle beside Carmilla Carmine.

The Princess barely registered the world around her until she noticed Vox swinging the weapon toward her.

She froze. Her body seized up, and for a horrible moment, Charlie actually thought she was going to die. All because she was stuck in her head again. 

‘This is it.’

Something grabbed her, lifting her off the ground.

She opened her eyes.

“Emily!” Charlie gasped.

“I’ve got you!” the young seraphim shouted.

But she wasn’t fast enough as a beam of celestial light tore through the air and clipped one of Emily’s wings. They plummeted, crashing into rubble hard.

In the distance, Vox was essentially losing his shit, firing the angelic weapon with reckless abandon, desperate to flush Alastor out of hiding.

“Alastor!” Vox roared. His voice glitched and distorted now. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, you fuckin’ coward! Always running away. Fucking typical.”

“Vox, stop!” Charlie screamed, struggling to her feet. “You’re destroying the city! People are dying!”

“You don’t get to order me, princess,” Vox spat, static crackling. “You’re the pathetic daughter to a pathetic king. Lilith would be ashamed of what you’ve become.”

Charlie flinches at that.

“Vox, the machine is overloading,” Carmilla warned. “If you continue, you’re going to take us out and half the Pentagram with it.”

“Ha! Fuck Hell! Fuck Heaven! As long as I kill Alastor and wipe that smile off his stupid face, I don’t care what happens. I am a god! And I’ll weed that worm out of the hole he hid in if it’s the last thing I do!” Vox roared.

Charlie shivered, the hate radiating off him like heat. Emily shouted that they had to help, and together they scrambled to save the demons from the rubble. But Vox was relentless, too blinded by rage to notice that he was about to destroy Pride.

So they did. They moved demons out of rubble, pulling them to safety as Vox’s blasts ripped the sky apart. But he was too far gone, too enraged to notice he was seconds away from ripping Pride to shreds. Charlie glanced up just in time to see the weapon aimed their way again. She and Emily were both too injured and occupied to dodge. Charlie acted on instinct. She threw herself over Emily in a useless attempt at shielding the angel.

But death never came. The machine suddenly powered down.

Vox blinked in confusion. “What the—?”

A loud, high-pitched sound rang out, making everyone cover their ears. It sounded like an animal call. Almost like…

Black tendrils shot from the ground, wrapping around Vox’s waist and flinging him into a building, away from the machine.

Charlie’s face lit up. “Alastor!”

Shadows emerged from the ground, revealing the missing Radio Demon standing regal, cunning as ever, staff in hand.

Vox staggered to his feet, glitching. “Finally coming out to play, Al? Thought you ran with your non-existent tail between your legs.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Alastor replied, his voice smooth as ever. “Look at how you’ve let yourself go, old pal. Crumbling as soon as one thing doesn’t go your way. What did His Majesty say again? Oh yes, ‘You’re garbage and a failure.”

Vox growled, contorting into a spider-like hybrid. “I’ll show you failure! I’m not the one who ran away!”

“I was simply taking care of another, more important task before taking out the trash. But don’t sell yourself short,” Alastor purred. “I do have to thank you for all this. Your little scheme helped break another chain that’s been holding me back for quite some time.”

Green electricity and black tendrils danced around Alastor as he geared up for the fight. “And now, I can finally make an example to all of Hell why you’re not to mess with the Ṙ̶̦͎̭̯̼͖͑̓́̒͜͝a̵̻̮̠̞̥͍̠̝̼͛d̷̞͉̭̙̗̝͚͍̱́̌͂̑̈̔̉̔͛̽̀͂̚̕͠ī̷̠̭͝ȯ̸̢̡̩̫͔̘̲̲̘͙̙̝ ̷̨̱̦̏̓̑͊̈̾͌̓̔̚D̶̪̘̦̘̰̹̲͈̲̩̪̥̄͜ẻ̵͔͎̫̭̓̋m̶̜̪̼͈̽̽͋̈́̀̿̕͘͝o̷͔̣̥̱͇͂̃̅̈͐̐͌̈́̀̐̅̏̈́̚͠ņ̵̛̼̘̻͍̬̙̔̈́̈́̽͊̿͑͘!̶̡͍͇̰̖̎̅͑̅̌͑̕͝.”

Alastor tapped his staff on the ground, flames erupting where it hit. He spun it like a baton until the flames extinguished, revealing a scythe. The base was still his staff, with the eye glowing gold, and the rest of the blade made of shadows that danced freely.

Vox’s jaw dropped. “What in the actual hell?!”

Alastor grinned.

“Ỹ̴̰̃͊̂ò̸͚̝̋͛̔͝ư̶̺̰̥̣̱͎̮̜͓̝̟͋̆̓̀̋̈́̐̈́̊͝r̸̩̘̜̖͇̎̈̔̍͒̄̒̍̚̚͝͠ ̸̢̗̮̙̖̆̍s̵̠̒̅̀̍͐̇͗̈͜͝c̸͙͇̣͎͎̰̖̺̗͈͂͛̍̋̓̽̉̃̏̒̋͌̉̕͝r̷͈̺̦̹̩̟̿̒̄̉̈́̚ȅ̴̢̗͔̙͈͘ą̷̬̭͎̜̫̼̹͉̪͍̦͔͈͒̃m̶̡̛͚̩̖̻̯̮̪͂͌͗̒͛̀͆̚̕͘ṣ̴̢̖̞̳͓̝̯̼͊̆̓̒͆̽͘͝ ̸̢̢̤͎̳̻̈̄̒w̴̢̢͉̹̲̘͉͈̳̘̲̳͉̔̆ͅo̶̱͙͓͉̰͚̫̤̰̲̦̲̿ͅǔ̸͚̟͓̣͚̣̦̜̃̐̂̍̍́̚͝͠͠l̸̢͈̔̍̓͐͊͋̆̀̎̃̾͌͝d̴̝̼̯̤̫̗̔́̔̓͝ͅ ̵̧̡͇͇̣͖͉͉̠̼̟̝̓̾͌͋̿̒͂͑̿̕͜m̶͇͇̱͍͖͙͕̗̝̱̉̽̋͆̾̂́̎̐͐͝a̷̡̬̝̦̝͖̹͈̣͎̲̟̲̲̤̅̈̆͋̓̀̿̂͑̒̒̃̓̍͘ḱ̵̹̭̥̳̦̲͇͒̌̕ȩ̴̭̂̍̀͆͠ ̵̢̹̮̬̞̰̤̩̂͆̈́̔̇̎̏̚͝f̵͈̮̼̞̗͈̗̄ͅô̸͔͙͖̦͔̈̽̍ͅͅŗ̶̡̣̹̯͚̘̞̰̝̺̞͉̺̩͊̉͑͝ ̸̢͈͉͕͓͍̠̯̞͈̫̀a̴̢͔͚̩̮̪̐͐̓̔̓̉̎̓͘ͅ ̴̱͍͚̮͕̖̈́͗́͐̐̈́́̑̔͊̔s̵̡̘̜̣̯̯͙͙̼̓a̸͉̤̦̬̦̼͒̌̽̆͗̒͌̕͘̕ṭ̵̼̜̝̖̘̙̐̃ǐ̷͉́̓ͅs̶̢͈̪̠̮̬̹͓̐͆̓f̸̨̱͍̲̠̘͈͖͈͎̀̋̇̆̋̅̾̐̍̀̽͂͘͝ͅy̶̨̢̳͔͖̭̠̗̳̝̝̒́̓̀́͊̚͜͜ḯ̸̡̨̡̨̜͔̖̹̖̞̤͈̖̝̭̀n̵͕̗͎͉̞̿g̶̡͙̃̿̾ ̷̢̭̤̟̗̯̖̌̈́̾͛͛̈͑́͂̂͘͜͝b̵̛̹͖̂͆̋̌̆̓̓́̌̀̈́͑̐͝ř̷̤̺̲͙̰̟̽̔̆̊̿̐̚ö̷̘̮̳̠̯̣̯͍͕̈̽̃͂̃͆̿̎̈́̃̈́̓̀͜͠ä̸̡͖̖͎̭̤̣͕̝̬́͑͑̄͐̑͋ͅd̷̤̲̺̳̫̲̭̜͍̙̬̂͆̐̈́̕̚c̷̱͊̊̓͂̅͛̆̿̏̅̽͘͘ą̶̝͎̭̺̭̯̟̥̫͎̅́͆̃̍̀́͒͒͆͆͒̉͝s̸͇͈̹̝̩̘̫̖͍̪̣̣͓͉̱͝t̷̪̘̹̱̗̀́̍́̽̔͑.̷̛̜̲̘̣̞̘͔̯̩̳̫”

Alastor’s voice carried a mix of amusement and menace. 

And then he lunged, shadows writhing around his claws as he ripped into Vox’s monstrous tech body. Sparks flew, metal groaned, and wires popped, but Vox’s fury kept him moving. He swung mechanical limbs in desperation, trying to hit Alastor, but the Radio Demon was faster.

Vox growled, glitching and sparking as Alastor shredded a chunk of his arm. He twisted, trying to regain balance, but another swipe tore away more of his hybrid body. The robotic shark he summoned leapt from the rubble, snapping at Alastor, but with a flick of his shadowed tentacles, Alastor sent it crashing back into debris.

Charlie and Emily ducked behind the nearest rubble, hearts hammering as they watched the two overlords clash. Alastor moved like a nightmare fuel. Charlie knew he could fight and that he was powerful, but this was the first time she’d seen him this destructive. Every strike left Vox’s mechanical enhancements shredded.

Finally, with a brutal, twisting motion, Alastor ripped away the last of Vox’s tech, leaving him in his original body, panting and glaring, glitching from his partially destroyed machinery. 

Everyone was so busy watching the two rival overlords clash that no one noticed Lucifer emerge from beneath the weapon. He flew up and perched atop the remains of the machine, observing the chaos of his new executioner.

Alastor, now fully transformed into his monstrous form, had his claws sunk deep into Vox, tearing at the hybrid tech that had augmented him. For all the carnage, it was clear this was more about the guy’s sadistic enjoyment than necessity. Alastor knew very well that Vox could survive disembowelment.

‘Okay, this is taking too long.’

Lucifer let out a sharp whistle, and Alastor froze mid-attack.

The sound immediately drew the attention of Charlie and anyone nearby. Husk, Cherri, and Angel had arrived as well. Charlie silently thanked whatever divine irony existed that they were all alive, though Angel looked worse for wear.

She pushed the thought aside for now. Her attention was fixed entirely on her father.

Lucifer cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.

“Yo! Bambi!”

Alastor twisted his neck in a perfect 180-degree turn, locking eyes with the King of Hell. For a minute, Charlie’s stomach dropped. Oh God, was he going to attack her father next? Where had her dad even come from?

Lucifer beckoned the demon with a single finger. Everyone held their breath. 

Another fight? Could the King even do something against a sinner now, especially Alastor?

But Alastor didn’t do anything they remotely expected. Instead, shadowy tentacles snaked around the mangled Vox, lifting him with effortless precision, and the Radio Demon glided toward Lucifer.

He dropped Vox just below the machine before circling Lucifer in his semi-monster form. The scythe slipped from his jaws and landed neatly into Lucifer’s hands.

Lucifer's expression twisted sourly. “Father, that’s disgusting. Of course, you’d be the type to play with your food.”

Vox’s screen flickered as he struggled to regain composure, rage blazing in his glitching eyes. “How… Why… the fuck! Is everyone escaping their cages??”

“I gotta give it to you, Box-” Lucifer said casually.

“It’s Vox!”

“-pretending to be Charlie using your voice thingy? Genius. Credit where it’s due and all that.”

Charlie noticed golden stains on her father’s suit. Blood. His blood. And yet he was speaking as he did decades ago. She never thought she’d hear it again. Alastor chuckled beside him. 

“Do stop praising him, Your Majesty. His ego might make his head grow too big. It would be a shame if it exploded before I ended him myself.”

The media overlord narrowed his eyes, fury growing. The king merely nodded, sitting cross-legged, calm as ever, while Alastor’s ears twitched. He was itching to finish Vox, but he restrained himself, standing almost like a servant.

Vox’s realisation hit him.

“You made a deal with him?!”

Gasps rang out around the battlefield. Alastor clapped, delighted. “My! It appears your brain survived, congratulations.”

“Why?!” Vox barked. “You’re a control freak! You would rather die than tie yourself to someone else. Are you that desperate?”

“Oh, please. If anyone’s desperate for power between us two, it’s you,” Alastor replied.

Vox sneered and shifted his words at Lucifer. “Is this what the supposed King of Hell has come to? Making a deal with a lowly sinner to do his bidding?” 

“I mean… pretty much,” Lucifer said with a shrug.

Alastor’s eyes glinted. “I do hope you’d stop referring to me as lowly, sire.”

Lucifer smirked. “In your dreams.”

Vox laughed in disbelief. “He’s just using you! All that deer cares about is getting what he wants and then discarding you. No friends in Hell, my fucking a—”

Lucifer laughed, cutting him off. Alastor chuckled as well, leaning his head closer to the king. The devil’s hand reached up, caressing Alastor’s face, petting ears, hair, and jaw. And Alastor let him.

Vox’s signal went out; his screen flickered with devastation and hate.

“He’s such a good boy, isn’t he? Don’t be jealous, iPad man. Not everybody can tame the Radio Demon,” Lucifer taunted.

Vox screamed, “He’ll end you!”

“Please~ I’d like to see him try,” Lucifer said smoothly. “But before that, I’ll let him have fun with you first.”

Alastor tilted his head, took his microphone-scythe, and had every speaker in Pride crackle to life. Lucifer’s voice boomed across the city. 

“Hello, demons of Pride! This is your king speaking!”

Shadow tendrils erupted from the ground, restraining not only Vox but also the other aligned overlords. Vaggie watches in horror as Carmila gets snatched also. Alastor slithered down, materialising in front of the tied-up overlords, his scythe gleaming and shadows writhing around him.

Today, you are going to witness the demise of these overlords at the hands of Alastor, the Radio Demon. My new executioner.”

Charlie’s eyes widened, but Lucifer decided to pay it no mind right now. He’ll cross that emotional bridge when he gets there.

“Let this be a reminder,” he continued, “to anyone who dares defy me again;”

Alastor raised the scythe high, shadows crawling up its blade as he awaited his king’s command.

“I’m the motherfucking King of Hell. And you are just dead men.”

And then Alastor swung the scythe in a blur, descending…

.

.

.

“Stop!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

After the whole Sir Pentious thing- after the impossible news that sinners could now be redeemed, Charlie barely had a second to breathe. They hadn’t even left the battlefield, yet hundreds of sinners were already crowding her, begging for directions to the hotel, asking what came next, what redemption meant, what she meant.

Lucifer felt his phone vibrating nonstop in his coat pocket. He didn’t even have to check to know it was the Sins. Or Paimon.

The Devil visibly shivered.

He prayed it wasn’t Paimon. The last thing he needed right now was a giant bird man dropping to his knees and kissing his feet—literally. The Goetia’s hard-on enthusiastic devotion had been cute at first, but over the centuries, it had become a test of willpower not to smite the bird on sight.

At least, Lilith found it funny.

The phone kept buzzing.

Absolutely not. He was not touching that thing. Not when he was one minor inconvenience away from causing an extinction-level tantrum across the other rings.

He couldn’t kill sinners, but demonkind was absolutely free game.

Alastor, unfortunately, was still here and in a talkative mood. “I never thought I’d witness you this quiet, Your Majesty,” he drawled, bending forward with a smile far too sharp. “What seems to be troubling someone as small as you?”

Lucifer glared. Yup. This deer is going to be the reason Hellborn go extinct someday.

The Devil forced a smirk. “If I told you, Bambi, you’d lose sleep.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much,” Alastor purred. “But humor me. Or does your inability to harm sinners extend to keeping your frustrations bottled up as well?”

Lucifer shot him a sideways look. “You think I can’t be scary without killing anyone?”

“I think,” Alastor replied lightly, “that the version of you your daughter described earlier sounds… fascinating. I wonder how much of it is true.”

“Oh?” Lucifer’s eyebrows lifted. “Curious, are we?”

Alastor’s grin widened. He shouldn’t have done that.

Lucifer moved faster than a blink—one moment he was standing still, the next he lunged. Alastor actually stumbled back, caught off-guard as Lucifer slammed him into the Devil’s own monstrous silhouette, shadows rising behind the king like a distorted halo.

For one terrifying second, Alastor genuinely thought Lucifer was about to crush his skull. The king’s hand hovered inches away from his face, claws grazing the air, close enough that Alastor could feel the heat radiating from them.

Then golden chains burst into existence.

They snapped around Lucifer’s wrists, ankles, and throat.

Chains tied to nothing. Sprouted from nowhere. Sent by Heaven itself.

Lucifer’s smile sharpened into something feral. “I may not be able to hurt you,” he whispered, voice smooth as oil, “but can you feel it, Bambi?”

He leaned closer, eyes glowing like molten gold.

“Can you feel how much it would hurt if I could?”

Alastor would never-ever -admit to another soul in Heaven or Hell that he trembled in that moment. He would take that secret to whatever grave an Overlord could hope for.

He’d been saved—Hell had been saved—by Lucifer’s daughter more times than anyone really understood.

Charlie freed herself from the crowd at last, bounding toward them with Vaggie and a frazzled Vanastasia trying to hold back the rest of the curious sinners. Poor girl. Charlie really needed to start paying her. Did she even get paid?

Lucifer returned to his normal form the instant Charlie reached them. The golden shackles vanished as if they’d never been there, leaving only the faint echo of divine power.

“Dad!” Charlie beamed, flushed from excitement and exhaustion.

“Looks like you’re going to be busy, Char-char,” he said gently.

“Yup! I’m—wow, I’m so overwhelmed. And happy! But I still can’t believe it. Sir Pentious. Redeemed!”

Lucifer’s shoulders softened. “So proud of you, kiddo.”

“Yeah… I just…” Charlie hesitated, rubbing at her eyes. “I kinda wish Mom was here.”

She didn’t notice Lucifer’s smile falter for a split second.

Alastor did.

The Overlord observed both of them quietly, intrigued. The look Lucifer wore was one Alastor couldn’t identify. Not anger. Not sorrow. Something older. Something complicated.

Lucifer’s smile snapped back into place when Charlie focused on them again. She stepped closer, suddenly timid—as though debating whether to speak or stay quiet. Eventually, she made a choice.

“Dad?”

“Yes, dear?”

Charlie swallowed. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

Lucifer blinked. Actually blinked. Genuinely confused, to Alastor’s mild irritation.

Of course, there’d been an argument. One week trapped in that goddamn tower and everything at the hotel fell apart.

“For what, honey?” Lucifer asked.

Charlie wrung her hands. “For when I yelled at you! I shouldn’t have said those things to you or Vaggie. You were just trying to help while I was too busy burying my head in Vox’s dirt.”

Alastor snorted. “How uncouth.”

“I sent you tons of apologies! And duck emojis! And memes! But I realized you might not have seen them yet, and—”

Lucifer’s hand twitched toward his pocket. Absolutely not. If he opened that phone, he’d be subjected to the Sins’ paragraphs, or worse—Paimon’s love letters. Charlie’s still rambling. Nope. He needed to stop this.

He cupped Charlie’s cheeks with both hands, gently squishing her face.

“Charlie, hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Alright, no. Let’s just agree to something.” Lucifer’s voice lowered, warm but firm. “We’re both at fault. Neither of us is a saint here. I shouldn’t have gone straight to that messy approach. And even if it hurt, you reacted the way you felt. That’s valid.”

“I’m a bad daughter,” Charlie whispered. “I’m so—”

“You aren't,” Lucifer said immediately. “Just like I am. And if you’re apologizing for being a bad daughter, then I’m apologizing for being a bad father.”

He laced their fingers together, squeezing once.

“I’m so sorry, apple pie,” he said softly. “That your mother and I haven’t been there for most of your life. You’re not wrong to want love or attention from your parents. You should’ve never had to carry that alone.”

Lucifer deflated just a bit, but his smile grew more real. “We neglected you because of our own issues. That wasn’t your burden to bear.”

Charlie couldn’t hold back anymore. She burst into tears and threw herself into her father’s arms, clinging to him in a trembling hug.

Alastor’s ear twitched.

Because amidst her sobs, Charlie whispered—soft, broken, and meant only for Lucifer.

“What will happen now that sinners know you can’t hurt them?” she finally asked.

Lucifer scoffed as if the question itself were ridiculous. “Pshh, they’ll just forget about it. Give it a few decades or so. Everything will be spooky King of Hell business as usual.”

“…Huh?” Charlie blinked.

“It’s been exposed before,” he said, waving a hand lazily. “Like waaaaaayyyyy before you were born. But of course your mother took care of that. Then in just a few years, those who knew have gone and perma-died and—poof—people are back to being scared of me again.”

Alastor, still hunched and half-monstrous from the fight, leaned in with predatory interest.
“Do elaborate?”

Lucifer gently pried himself from Charlie’s hold, rolling one shoulder as if the whole topic bored him.
“I am older than Hell itself,” he said simply. “Literally an original created by God Himself. This little mess?”
He gestured at the wreckage Vox had left behind—the ruined ground, the sparks still sputtering from the machine, scattered debris, wounded sinners being tended to by friends.

“It’s just a dot in my loooong existence. I could blink and a year would pass. When you live as long as me, secrets don’t matter because I will outlive everyone.”

He tapped a claw against the metal shell of the ruined angelic weapon. “So if they want to strap me to a gun aimed at Heaven again? Start another Heavenly war or… whatever?”

He shrugged. “Give it time. All of this becomes just another tiny drop of water in the big ol’ bucket that is my life.”

Charlie stared at him, both amazed and unsettled. “I never thought of it like that before.”

“You’re still young,” Lucifer said softly, smoothing a hand over her hair. “Two hundred in human years is barely toddler-age to me. When you’ve lived as long as I have, the line between the good and the bad—it gets blurry.”

He realized he’d said too much. Charlie’s eyes were already swimming with too many emotions, and he cleared his throat, quickly backtracking.

“But you know!” he said brightly, almost too brightly. “I’ll try my hand at my own version of redemption, yeah? I might not be welcomed back into Heaven, but for you, Char-Char, I’ll work to be better.”

Charlie didn’t hesitate; she threw her arms around him again, burying her face in his coat.
“Love you, Dad.”

Lucifer stilled, then wrapped his arms around her with careful, deliberate affection—like holding something precious that only he knew how to protect.

“Love you too, my girl.”

After a few more tears and lingering hugs, Charlie finally let go and drifted back toward the others, leaving the King of Hell and his so-called executioner standing alone again. Lucifer watched her go, then glanced at Alastor. Honestly? He was impressed that the Radio Demon didn’t flee the second things got sentimental.

Heh. I’m totally wearing him down.

“Go on then,” Lucifer said, waving a hand lazily. “I know you’re dying to ask something again.”

Alastor brightened with that too-wide smile of his. “What exactly is this prison you’re putting our rebelling friends in?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re nosy?”

“Once or twice, sire! Don’t think you can avoid my question now.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “If you must know, it’s just a time-out realm. I used to put the Sins there all the time when they were being little shits.”

Alastor blinked. “…You are serious?”

Lucifer squawks in offense.

“Hey! The Sins were strong children, okay? I may be an angel, but there are only so many powerful creatures with toddler personalities I can handle before I snap.” He shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, none of them have ever escaped it. So I doubt a bunch of sinners can.”

Alastor stared. “You put sinners who tried to kill you and destroy Heaven… in the corner?”

“It might only be an uncomfortable experience for the Sins,” Lucifer said defensively, “but to mortal souls? Probably nightmare fuel. Granted, I never tested it with sinners and-”

He stopped when he noticed the utterly judgmental look Alastor was giving him. Before Lucifer could respond, Alastor simply turned and began walking away.

“Bitch, you chose this!” Lucifer shouted after him. “This is your life now—wha—Bambi! Come back here!”

Alastor kept walking, shoulders shaking. He needed to leave before he actually burst into laughter. The irony of it all! Childish humans with childish dreams thrown into a cosmic time-out corner crafted by the devil for his unruly kids. Oh, he only wished he had gotten to kill something today~

A soft poof of light behind him made his smile freeze. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Alastor.”

“Rosie!” He spun with impeccable grace. “How lovely of you to visit your old partner. Charlie is a bit busy at the moment but-”

“You double-dealing manipulator,” Rosie scolded. “I can’t believe you made a deal with the devil. And for what? To get out of my leash and onto his?”

“Now, now, Rosie,” he purred, leaning on his staff, “you knew my game the day we met.”

They stared each other down until Rosie finally let out a bright laugh.

“You really are a demon’s pet now.”

Oh, Alastor noticed the missing comma.

“Nice staff you’ve got there, hun,” she said. “So much trouble just to get a stick fixed.”

“What can I say, my dear? I am, if nothing else, resourceful. Now, would you like to find Charlie?”

He offered his arm. Rosie sighed dramatically but looped hers in.

“Getting rid of me already? I thought I taught you better manners.”

A laugh track from Alastor erupted.

“Let me tell you about my adventures in Vox’s very unpleasant company,” Alastor announced as they walked. “People could make a movie out of it!”

When they reached Charlie, Rosie immediately launched into apologies—how she was so, so sorry Cannibal Town didn’t arrive sooner. Alastor nearly snorted aloud. Rosie simply preferred sending him to do all the work instead of dealing with it herself.

Vaggie approached next, exhaustion etched across her face.

“You know,” she said, pointing at Alastor, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kinda agree with Vox. You’re a demon who always wants control, and then you go and make a deal with Lucifer to be his… what? Attack dog? Seems kinda low for you.”

Alastor grinned, sharp and amused.

“You should know well that a king’s favorite dog is held in higher regard than mere generals. I am exactly where I want to be.”

Vaggie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I won’t be watching you. King’s whatever or not- if you hurt Charlie like you did earlier—”

“Hurt her? Nonsense, my dear. It was a simple favor. And it all worked out, didn’t it?”

Vaggie huffed and stomped away to Charlie and Rosie, muttering under her breath.

With them distracted, Alastor slipped into the shadows and drifted away. He caught a glimpse of Husk and Angel’s friend in some corner, looking sad and pathetic. He dismissed them. Nifty was harassing the scientist, apparently having found a new obsession.

He materialized again beside Lucifer.

“Can’t seem to stay away from me, can ya, Bambi?” Lucifer said, smirking.

“I simply find you entertaining, Your Majesty.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Glad to be of service,” he deadpanned.

“Quite!” Alastor clasped his hands. “Though, if I may, I do have a question.”

“Oh, for the love of Fa—what now?”

“I was only going to ask if I’ll ever get to kill someone as your executioner.” His smile was all teeth.

“I let you toy with TV Man, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but as an executioner, I fear I’m not living up to my new title if I don’t kill a single soul today.”

“Day’s not over.”

Alastor’s grin twitched, eager. “Oh?”

“How would you like to go on a hunting trip?” Lucifer asked casually.

Alastor’s smile widened into something monstrous.

“There’s a certain new sinner whose head I need on a platter.”

Alastor practically salivated. He bowed and took Lucifer’s hand, placing a small kiss on top.

“As you wish, my angel.”

Later, long after everyone had retired to their beds, Lucifer opened a portal to a familiar emporium. Rosie was already there, placing two cups of tea on the table as if she had been expecting him.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Your Majesty.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? And—ugh—what?! You know I hate jasmine.”

They sat. Lucifer’s legs dangled over the edge of the oversized chair; he was absolutely too short for it. Curse all these tall asses.

“I do,” Rosie said simply.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You’re mad.”

“You stole my precious pet, Majesty. And I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It’s your own fault for not fixing his staff. Bet he wouldn’t have done all this if you had.”

“It’s the principle, dear.”

Lucifer sipped the offending tea and winced. Jasmine. Yuck.

“I’ve got Alastor hunting for your first husband.”

Rosie’s eyes widened. “I’m surprised he’s still alive! Death by angelic steel is often a survivable task.”

“He’s resilient, I’ll give him that. Also…”

Another sip. Yup, still disgusting.

“I saw you earlier, you know.”

“Oh?”

“You and Charlie seemed awfully close. When did you approach her?”

“Don’t be uptight! How do you think she got cannibals to fight in the last extermination?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “And what did she offer you?”

“Nothing! She came with her woes, and I liked her moxie. So I gave her willing cannibals and some motherly advice.”

Lucifer placed the cup down slowly, tilting his head. His horns grew, curling with threat.

“You would know all about being motherly, wouldn’t you—”

Rosie only smiled calmly over her tea.

Lucifer’s voice dropped.

“Eve?”

Chapter Text

To say Alastor is entertained is an understatement. He’s practically vibrating with delight! If a fraction of Lucifer’s power can make him feel this strong, this alive, then oh, he can’t wait for a taste of more.

He does feel a twinge of disappointment knowing he didn’t get to kill any Overlords during the battle, but he’s too drunk on borrowed angelic power to care. If his little display of carnage with Vox and that exorcist didn’t frighten Hell enough, then his new title certainly has. He keeps seeing sinners step back automatically whenever he comes near, like prey responding to a predator’s presence.

Alastor’s smile widens every time it happens.

His shadow and muppets scour every inch of Pride, creeping through alleys and swallowing rooftops, sniffing out the sinner like a pack of proper bloodhounds. Alastor himself goes on his own version of the hunt, bounding from rooftop to rooftop with long strides. He destroys every piece of VokTek he comes across as a side quest.

He isn’t sure if it’s the chain around his neck or the lingering thrill of making a deal with the Devil, but something in him surfaces.

Something that wants to please the King.

He will never admit it to another soul, but seeing the Lucifer Morningstar finally behave exactly as he was always depicted in the Bible had sent a delighted shiver down his entire body. And then the King went and touched him. Caressed him like a pet.

Static bursts out of Alastor at the memory. He throws his head back and laughs, recalling Vox’s horrified face, the stunned silence of every sinner present. He would gladly kneel again before His Majesty in the middle of the street, over and over, if it meant witnessing that same realisation across Hell’s collective consciousness.

That Alastor is untouchable now. That he belongs to the King. Their King!

And oh… Alastor wants nothing more than to devour Lucifer and keep him all to himself.

He stops abruptly when he feels his shadow tug. It pointed towards a particular direction on the far east side. Alastor’s grin sharpens.

“It is time to bring back the meat for dinner, don’t you think?” he murmurs.

His shadow nods in agreement.

With a delighted little laugh, Alastor launches himself off the rooftop, bounding into the sky and zeroing in on the sinner who has, quite unfortunately for them, become the next meal of Lucifer’s executioner.

Alastor would never tire of referring to himself as such.

The unsuspecting target is far too busy grumbling to sense the predator closing in. They stomped down the surprisingly empty street of the Doomsday District, muttering about every detail of his miserable situation.

He turns around mid-rant and- oh.

Oh my.

“What the fuck?!” The demon yelled.

Alastor beams, stepping out of the shadows dramatically.

“Well, now, this is such a wonderful surprise! It seems mon cher has given me yet another present.”

The Radio Demon is genuinely giddy! Because the sinner standing before him is none other than the should-have-been-dead First Man.

Adam.

He looks nearly the same as he did before, aside from the inverted colours, sharp teeth, and the permanent horns shaped exactly like the horrid exorcist mask he used to wear. Hell has a sense of humour. A petty one.

Adam recoils. “You! Get the fuck away from me!”

A tendril bursts from the ground and coils around Adam before he can bolt. The first man thrashes, screaming, “Fucking creep! I swear to God, I will kill you when I get out of this!”

Alastor laughs. “I’m afraid that this time, you are the lesser of us. Can’t you feel it, First Man?”

He leans in, far too close, and Adam's jaw drops.

“You and-?!” Adam barks. “I should’ve known! Lucifer is always the cause of the shit that happens to me. God, you’re insufferable- both of you! You two deserve each other.”

“Tsk tsk,” Alastor chides. “Let us not use my King’s name in vain. It does not deserve to be spouted by a voice as… unrefined as yours.”

“Suck my huge ass cock, bitch.”

Alastor grins brightly. “No, thank you! Now then, let us be on our way. Do try not to vomit. I plan to make it a very bumpy ride.”

Adam barely gets out a final, furious, “DON’T YOU DARE—”

Before Alastor whips the tendril tight, launches them into the air, and cackles again as Adam’s furious screams echo across Pride’s sky.

The Morningstar palace is silent when Alastor arrives with his “package.” An imp servant appears immediately, bowing low before scurrying ahead and leading him through an endless series of long, barren hallways. Barren of walking life anyway. There are family portraits, carnivorous plants, and lit candles. But no other servants other than the imp leading him.

Such a massive home for someone of such small stature.

After several minutes of walking through what feels like a mausoleum, they finally stop before a towering set of double doors. The imp bows again.

“Right this way, Royal Executioner. His Majesty awaits.”

Alastor tilts his head. “And what lies beyond this?”

“The Royal Gardens, sir.”

That seems to be all the imp intends to offer. Alastor hums, gives a polite nod, and pushes the door open.

Light spills over him.

His shoes sink into actual Earth grass. Above him is a pure blue sky, clouds drifting across it. A fountain and a river are flowing with actual, clear water. Flowers blooming in all colours, trees looking untouched by Hellfire, tiny critters running along his feet, and birds singing from branches.

If he didn’t know Hell was just on the other side of those doors, he would swear he’d stepped into life again.

And in the middle of it all, lounges Lucifer on a cushioned throne, lazily entertaining a flock of birds perched on his arms.

Alastor wills himself to walk forward with composure. Lucifer catches sight of him and lights up, jumping from the throne and running toward him with far too much enthusiasm, so ancient.

“Al!” Lucifer beams.

“I hope I did not take too long to complete your task, yes?”

“‘Course not,” Lucifer says, waving a hand. “I knew you’d find him. How’d you like it?”

Alastor smiles. “Delighted.”

Lucifer smirks knowingly and leads him deeper into the garden. When Alastor asks how any of this is possible, Lucifer shrugs.

“Father always had a weird way of showing love. Don’t think he can turn off the doting even after I fucked everything up. This is actually a replica of Eden. Father might’ve thought this was a gift, but I just see it as a joke. Good place to relax, though.”

He explains so casually to Alastor, but the latter merely hummed.

“It appears that the Almighty never quite stopped doting on His “favourite son.”

“Yeah, well. I’d rather not go there right now, but-”

And then Alastor reaches out, takes one of Lucifer’s hands, brings it to his lips, and gives it a long, deliberate lick before pressing a kiss to the palms. Lucifer raises a brow, amused, then lifts that same hand to Alastor’s ear, dragging it slowly down the side of his face until stopping at his throat.

Lucifer curls his finger, and golden chains shimmer faintly around Alastor’s neck.

“Who knew you could be such a good boy, huh, Bambi?”

The look the King gives him, one of pure hunger, sends a delicious shiver through Alastor’s body.

“I live now for you and your pleasure,” Alastor murmurs. “You will never regret your deal with me.”

Lucifer considers him for a moment, lips curling. “Yeah... I’m kind of finding that to be true.”

They hold each other’s gaze. They were having a weird staring contest that both would pretend to have happened later, but right now, they were a bit lost in each other’s eyes.

It was going well until a very loud, very irritated groan cut the moment in half.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Both turn to Adam, who is tied and gagged in one of Alastor’s tendrils, now glaring at them.

“Did you seriously kidnap me for this weird foreplay? This is so fucking gross. Being used as a prop for your voyeurism.”

Lucifer sighs.

Lucifer had always been fond of dramatics, but tonight he outdid even himself.

“You know,” he drawled, casually inspecting his nails, “your existence is a problem.”

Adam snarled. “Pot meet fucking kettle.”

“Oh, hush,” Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to explain why you’re dying today. Be polite.”

Alastor snorted into his hand.

Lucifer ignored him and continued. “Heaven is a… delicate place. Always has been. And my sweet apple pie’s redemption mission? A miracle! She’s done the impossible. Given Hell something pure.” His expression softened for only a heartbeat before returning to deadpan. “But you, Adam? You’d set us back centuries. Heaven will panic if they knew that winners can Fall.”

Adam spat blood at the grass. “So this is about her.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Everything is about Charlie. But also, you’re annoying.”

He gestured vaguely at the sweeping paradise around them. “Anyway! How do you like this version of Eden? Father worked really hard to make it as accurately as possible despite never setting foot in the real thing. You were created in the Garden… and now you get to die in this one. Full circle. Real storybook stuff.”

Adam glared. “You’re sick.”

“And you’re out of time,” Lucifer chirped. “But look! Consider yourself lucky you get this instead of dying out in some alley like a rat. Think of it as my final mercy before you get torn into pieces.”

“Your little bitch would be disgusted. You act like some bloodthirsty beast and then sell her a dream about redemption.”

Lucifer barked a laugh. “You’re funny when you’re desperate. Actually using Char-char’s idea of redemption thinking I’ll spare you. Can you see Charlie anywhere right now?” He waved an arm around dramatically. “Nope! She’s my impulse control, and she’s not in this room. So, unfortunately for you… Yeah, you are dying today. Sorry, buddy!”

He definitely was not sorry.

Adam bared his teeth. “The Princess will hate you if you kill me!”

Lucifer shrugged. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Adam smiled, still with fake bravado. “Come on, you won’t kill me, Luci. You can’t. I’m a sinner now. Someone you literally can’t touch. You’re a pussy- just like your little bitch daughter.”

Lucifer didn’t even blink.

“Maybe,” he conceded lightly. “But I never said I’d kill you, did I?”

Adam stiffened. “…huh?”

Lucifer turned and patted Alastor on the shoulder like presenting a beloved pet at a talent show. “Alastor here has been itching for a kill for days. And I do need to feed my pet.”

That was all the permission Alastor needed before he lunged.

Adam managed a single startled shout before Alastor crashed into him, dragging him across the grass and ripping into him with audible delight. The sound of flesh being torn apart by bare teeth and claws echoed across the once peaceful garden. Adam’s screams can’t even be heard through the gory sounds.

Everything is being coated in red now.

Lucifer wandered back to his lounge chair with the mild interest of someone watching a nature documentary. He stretched out, crossed his legs, and hummed a little tune while Alastor made art out of the First Man.

“I don’t want to set the world on fire~”

At some point, Alastor’s shadow slithered up beside him, forming a little face that grinned up at the King. Lucifer tapped it gently with one finger.

‘What a cute little thing.’

The torture dragged on long enough that even Lucifer grew bored. With a sigh, he slid off his seat and wandered back toward the carnage.

Adam was in pieces and somehow still alive.

Lucifer crouched, tilting the man’s ruined face upward. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured cheerfully before pressing a lingering kiss to Adam’s bloody cheek.

Both to say goodbye… and because he wanted to watch Alastor react.

Which he did with a distorted, glitching snarl.

Lucifer smirked. Perfect.

Adam is terrified, barely holding on to consciousness, and there’s a tendril stuffed in his mouth as a gag.

Safe to say he’s not having the best of times.

Samael might have felt pity. But Lucifer Morningstar was enjoying every moment. He leaned in close, whispering so quietly that even Alastor wouldn’t catch it.

“ɆVɆ ₴Ɇ₦Đ₴ ⱧɆⱤ ⱤɆ₲₳ⱤĐ₴.”

Adam’s eyes widened, and he let out a muffled scream as Lucifer stepped back.

“End this now, Alastor,” he said.

Alastor immediately stepped between them, scythe in hand, posture all protective and possessive in the most ridiculous way imaginable. Lucifer had to physically stop himself from laughing.

‘What a jealous little bastard. It’ll definitely get more annoying before it gets cute.’

Alastor raised his weapon with ceremonial grace. “First Man, Adam of the Garden. The King of Hell has sentenced you to death.” He tilted his head, eyes glowing bright red. “Any last words?”

Adam, jaw broken and barely attached, still managed to rasp:

“Fuck… all of you.”

Alastor didn’t hesitate and swung the scythe down.

Adam’s head rolled across the ground until it stopped against Lucifer’s foot. His body was immediately engulfed by Alastor’s shadow beasts to have their fill.

Lucifer made a disgusted noise and nudged the head away with his toe. Alastor stepped toward it, mouth opening, clearly intending to eat it.

Lucifer held out a hand. “Leave it.”

Alastor ignored him.

“Bellhop,” Lucifer snapped, “you have an entire body over there. Let the head go.”

Alastor rolled his eyes dramatically but relented, drifting back toward the remains.

“Host. And I am not tidying up any of this mess,” he muttered.

Lucifer groaned into both hands.

​

Later, the two of them sit at Lucifer’s newly conjured table, drinking tea. No Jasmine this time.

Alastor’s shadow henchmen are scattered across the yard, scrubbing at the grass with increasing desperation. The blood stains refuse to lift. One of the little things even growled as it continued to scrub. They’re not winning.

Alastor, seated rigidly with perfect posture, twitches every time a henchman makes a frustrated squeal.

Lucifer absolutely basks in it.

He raises his teacup and blows on it delicately. “Can I just say,” he begins, “you didn’t have to lick me earlier. That was—like—so gross.”

Alastor takes a sip from his own cup, “Maybe if you stopped yanking on this chain of mine,” he says, voice sweet as poison, “I wouldn’t have. And frankly, I was under the impression you liked it in the moment.”

Lucifer makes a face like he tasted spoiled milk. “Who likes being licked?!”

“Nifty does,” Alastor replies immediately.

Lucifer stares.

Then sighs. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

They drink their tea in silence as, behind them, one of the minions resorts to punching the ground in frustration as it tries to rid the grass of blood still.

“Can you tell them not to destroy my landscaping, please?”

“Nope!”

​

Meanwhile, at the Emporium, Rosie descends from her upstairs bedroom with all the grace of a powerful overlord. She halted at the sight of a giant box in the middle of her shop.

She eyes it, then approaches.

Tied to the top with a ribbon is a card with a note in familiar handwriting.

Don’t you forget.

And never say I didn’t do shit for you!

– L

P.S. STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER. I MEAN IT.

The cannibal overlord’s grin spreads slowly and wickedly across her lips.

“Well, well,” she murmurs, lifting the lid.

Inside is her first husband’s severed head, set neatly on an actual silver platter. The presentation is immaculate. Lucifer always did know how to make a point.

Rosie—no, Eve—plucks one of the cloudy eyes from the skull, pops it into her mouth, and closes her eyes with a hum of nostalgic pleasure.

“Still tastes rotten as ever, my dear,” she says softly.