Notes: Pregnancy (and horny) things. Alastor being somewhat nice but still cruel. Also, this chapter isn't beta-read. Mistakes will be corrected later on.
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(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
On the day Emily opened her eyes for the first time, the Creator, the High Seraphim, and the elders were there to welcome and inform of her purpose. She is to protect the light of joy by any means necessary; to always follow the laws of Heaven, and to place complete trust in Heaven, without question. There was no room for exceptions, or doubts.
Despite being newly-born, Emily found those rules simple enough to understand. She accepted her halo with a bright smile, eager to embody her purpose of spreading joy in her new home. In fact, right after she was officially introduced as the newest Seraphim to the winners of Heaven, she announced the idea of a talent show where everyone was free to showcase their skills and interests. No competition was necessary, because in Heaven's eyes, everyone was a winner.
Emily remembers Sera's approving nod at the idea, and how the Creator's light seemed to brighten all around her. Joy blossomed in her chest at the idea of making her mentor and Creator proud.
It wasn't always easy. Joy wasn't eternal, and even in Heaven there were administrative tasks that required her complete attention. Misunderstandings still happened between winners as they were once human, and humans were flawed creatures, even when they were awarded eternal paradise. Emily didn't always understand them (and she still doesn't), but she loves them the way she knows the Creator loves her.
So yes, while making winners happy all the time wasn't easy, it was simple. Even after Emily started taking on a more serious diplomatic role—second only to the High Seraphim herself—she still only had to follow three simple rules: Protect joy, follow, and trust. And for a long, long time, all was good. All was simple.
But ever since the Trial, nothing seems that simple anymore.
"Erm, pardon me, Your Highnessss?"
Emily looks up to see their new addition—or, relatively new addition, she thinks. Sir Pentious is standing (sitting?) a little ways away from her, and Emily has to smile at how worried he looks.
"Hello, Sir Pentious," Emily greets with a bright smile and nod. She puts her teacup down on the saucer and stands up from the table, intertwining her fingers in front of her. "It's been a while. I trust you've been settling in nicely?"
"Oh, yesss! I am quite enjoying the facsssilitiesss. The poolsss here are neither acssidic nor dissseasse-ridden! What a pleasssant ssssurprissse!" Sir Pentious chirps, but his words give Emily pause. Still, he continues, "Ah, but I musssst admit, I find myssself feeling a little… ressstlesss. Isss there anything I can do for you or the High Sssseraphim?"
At the mention of Sera, Emily's smile falters slightly. Ever since Sir Pentious appeared in Heaven all those months ago, Sera has been acting… strange. Which is so uncharitable for her to think, she knows, but she can't explain it any other way. Usually she enjoys welcoming new souls into Heaven, but something about Sir Pentious seems to disturb her.
…Is it because Sir Pentious is originally from Hell? But he's in Heaven now! Surely that means he deserves to be here? But if Sera isn't bothered about Sir Pentious… then maybe it's about Adam's death?
('Good riddance.')
Emily shakes her head a little. No, it's unfair of her to think like that. No matter how… boorish Adam had been, that doesn't mean she should be celebrating his downfall. His and Sera's initiative of exterminating demons is— was excessive in her opinion (to put it very lightly), but that doesn't give her the right to judge.
And despite the hanging tension between them lately, Emily is more worried about Sera than anything, anyway.
In fact, she had been so overcome with worry that she went against protocol and opened up to others. Seraphim matters should only stay among the Seraphim, but that didn't mean she couldn't get advice. For the past few months, she had brought this up casually to angels in the other orders, but most of them tell her not to worry too much.
Most, except Archangel Michael. Kind of.
"Leave it be, Emily. Sera knows what she's doing," Michael said to her when she asked him, seemingly busy shining his legendary sword. It caught in flames briefly, but only Emily jumped back in shock. "I'm sure she'll let you know if your assistance becomes necessary."
If, not when. Emily bit her lip. "Easier said than done. Things are just a little tense around here lately, and I want to fix it. I just want to help and make people happy, you know?"
Michael paused, saying nothing at first. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned to her and said, "The last time someone tried to 'help,' I had to use this sword on them, Emily."
Emily faltered. "W-What?"
"If your help is needed, you will be called. Otherwise, you trust and obey, as you were created to do," Michael said. The sword shone brightly as he held it up, but Emily couldn't help but find the image ominous as it was awe-inspiring. "Do this, lest you follow in his footsteps."
Lucifer, the Fallen.
Emily shudders.
"…So is that a no, Your Highnessss?"
"Huh?" Emily asks, lifting her head up. At Sir Pentious' confused stare, she shakes her head with a small laugh, "Oh, sorry! I was distracted. Anyway, about your question! I'm always happy to welcome help. But hmm, what is it that you do again, Sir Pentious?"
"I am an inventor!" Sir Pentious announces grandly, placing a hand over his chest. "I wasss resssponssible for many a grand creation in He—well, where I usssed to live in. If you ssssupply me the right materialsss, I'll create sssomething that will make everyone's livesss here even better! After a few prototypessss, of courssse."
"Oh, Sir Pentious, that's very thoughtful of you!" Emily praised, clapping her hands. Sir Pentious bowed his head slightly, flushing with a shy smile. "It's so nice to see people willing to use their Creator-given talents for the good of all. But hmm, I dunno how life here in Heaven can be better than it already is! Do you see any areas that can be improved on?"
Sir Pentious falters slightly. "A-Ahh, well, not from what I've ssseeen sso far! But there's always room for improvement. That'sss what I learned from the princess."
For a moment, Emily thought Sir Pentious was talking about her, but she can't recall ever seeing him in her Happiness Management class. Then it clicks. "Oh! You're talking about Princess Morningstar. Charlie!"
"Yesss!" Sir Pentious affirms, nodding his head with a large, fanged smile. Then he slumps forward, sighing. "I do misssss her terribly. Asss well asss my other friendssss."
"Oh, of course. I'm sure it's been an adjustment for you, Sir Pentious," Emily says, deflating a bit.
"Yess. It wass."
Emily frowns worriedly. When tears start to well in Sir Pentious' eyes, she starts to panic, waving her hands frantically in front of her. "Oh, dear, please don't be sad, Sir Pentious! H-Here, confetti!"
A burst of confetti falls down on them, but mostly on Sir Pentious. Emily's bright smile falls fast when she realizes that the colorful paper and mylar have no effect on his declining mood.
Her usual techniques aren't working. Maybe there's another way? Sir Pentious is from a different place, then that means she should use a different approach. But if she does things differently… doesn't that mean she's going against her orders? Oh, but if it's to help one of their own, surely—
Protect joy. Follow. Trust.
Emily bites her lip and looks around the room. She notices her abandoned teacup, and an idea pops into her head.
"I'm sure you have a lot on your mind, Sir Pentious," she says, coming up to him and placing a hand on his arm. He looks down at her with those sad eyes, and Emily stands up on her tiptoes to wipe a stray tear away. "Why don't we talk about it over tea? I think if you talk about your feelings, you'll feel much better! Plus, I'm a little curious about your friends. Could you tell me a little more about them?"
Her idea gives her the results she (needs) wants. His face lights up, and even his peculiar hat seems to share in his excitement. "Tea would be lovely! And I do have the wildesst sstoriesss about them. They're an odd bunch, but I love them—flawsss and all!"
Emily's smile softens. "I can see that. So! Tea time?"
"I would be delighted, Your Highnessss!"
Since that day in Lust, Lucifer has kept regular-ish contact with his estranged Fallen family. Part of him still feels the lingering shame and guilt over being the cause of their suffering—what, with him convincing them to side with him during the rebellion—but now, he's doing his best to ignore the bad thoughts and just focus on being a better leader—a better sibling.
Maybe it's because of loneliness. Maybe it's still the guilt. But regardless of the motivation, Lucifer is honestly just tired of letting his own flaws and pride get in the way of his happiness, so he's making an effort to rebuild bridges, and so far, it has been successful.
Except, sadly, when it comes to Satan.
He feels a mix of anger, hurt, and sorrow at the thought of his friend. While Levi had been an assistant of sorts back in Heaven, Satan was a scholar who took the word of their Creator so seriously that he dedicated his life in Heaven documenting it. Because of how meticulously Satan (previously Samael) recorded their Creator's laws, Lucifer, tasked with spreading joy and light onto the world, often consulted with him about everything. Even the rebellion.
And now, Satan resents him because Lucifer didn't heed his advice.
'Among other things,' Lucifer had thought to himself after another unsuccessful attempt to reach out. He understands why Satan is being so prickly, of course. Lucifer doubts hewould want to talk to himself after everything. It just doesn't make the blow he feels whenever he sees a message left on read any softer.
So imagine his surprise when, on his third day back at the hotel, he wakes up to not one, but two messages from Satan.
"Meet me in my palace today at eleven in the morning. Not a minute late. There's something about your pregnancy that we need to discuss," his first text reads. "Also, don't let this Alastor fellow know about possibly being the father yet."
Lucifer blinks at the first text, then winces at the second text; his eyes shifting between the phone and the door. Well, it's a little too late for that, isn't it? Because apparently Alastor already knows—and so does the rest of the hotel.
But what did Satan mean when he said 'possibly' ? Can Alastor not be the father of the twins after all?
'It would be simpler if that were the case, but…' he looks down at his bulging belly. He pokes it once, only to be greeted by an enthusiastic kick back. He sniggers; someone's awake, it seems!
Still laughing softly to himself, Lucifer kicks the covers away and stretches. He uses his feet to pull his fuzzy duck slippers toward him and waddles to the bathroom to perform his morning ablutions. He needs to look a little more presentable than usual if he's leaving his room, after all. And that means a bath!
As he is drying himself with a towel, he hears a pop and a series of bleats coming from his room. He looks over his shoulder and calls out, "Razzie, in here!"
Razzle flies in, holding a tray of food. He bleats with a confused tone, looking between the tray and Lucifer.
"Oh, right. Breakfast." Lucifer frowns, tapping his chin. Stray droplets of water fall down on his face as he thinks. He shakes his head, throws the wet towel he's wearing over his shoulder, and waves a hand in the air dismissively. "I think I'll eat in the kitchens today, Razzle. I'm having a meeting with Satan today."
"Baaaa? Babababaa?"
"No, not here. I'm meeting him at Wrath."
"…Baaaaa?"
"Yup, you heard that right! I'm leaving the hotel."
"BA!"
"But what? I have two perfectly working legs! Plus, I'll be using a portal to get there, anyways."
"… Baababaa."
"Pshhh, you're worrying too much! Where'd the trust go?" Lucifer scoffs, blowing a raspberry as he buttons his dress shirt. With a snap of his fingers, he's dressed in his usual affair of pinks, whites, and red trims, though he forgoes the bowtie and magically knots a red tie around his neck instead.
"Whaddya think?" Lucifer twirls the apple cane in hand and turns around, sweeping his hands over his form. "Do I look kingly enough for a diplomatic visit? Don't be shy with the compliments; I can take it!"
Wordlessly (or bleatlessly?), Razzle looks him up and down; his gaze lingering on Lucifer's middle. Lucifer follows his line of sight and blinks down at his exposed, pregnant belly, which looks like it's struggling to burst free from the shirt and vest stretched over it.
"Oh, right. That's a little too obvious, isn't it?" Lucifer says, scratching his head with the top of his cane. After several beats of humming and thinking, Lucifer lifts a finger in the air. "Ah, I know!"
He snaps his fingers again, and this time, he's dressed in looser clothing, but no less dressier. His blazer is still the same from the chest up, but it flares down in an A-shape from where it's cinched above the crest of his belly. His pants are still the same, but they intimately follow the shape of his belly without making it stand out too much.
"There. My old maternity shit. That should do the trick, right?" He looks up to see Razzle nodding and giving him a thumbs up. Beaming, Lucifer claps his hands together and marches to the door, as if leading a one-man parade. "Excellent! Now, why don't you go ahead and set that in the kitchen? I'll be walking down 'cause I need the exercise."
Razzle nods before popping out of the room. Lucifer keeps his smile on for a few beats before slumping against the door, sighing.
Man, putting on a show for people is exhausting. To think he used to do this full-time back in Heaven. If he recalls correctly, he once did a season of two-hour shows every hour!
"The sacrifices you make trying to make others happy. You learn to defy time and space!" he laments to himself as he opens the door. He fixes his hat, rubs his snake's head lovingly with his finger, and marches down the hallway, whistling a jaunty tune all the while.
Lucifer hasn't walked a full ten steps when the shadows on the walls start moving on their own, coalescing on the ground and forming a very familiar shape before him.
"Well, well, well, the prodigal son returns!" A disembodied voice marbled by static bounces off the walls. The dark, almost black, shadows slowly turn blood red, and the Radio Demon's sharp smile greets him like an old, shitty friend. "Welcome home, deer sovereign! Did you finally decide to bless your humble peons with your presence once more? How kind and thoughtful of you!"
For a few beats, Lucifer just blinks at him—one eye closing before the other. Then, without missing a beat (and stopping his tune), he pivots on his heel and starts walking back to his room. "Boy bye."
"Oh, come now! None of that!" Alastor laughs gaily and melds back into the shadows, only to reappear in front of a disgruntled-looking Lucifer. He bends over with his hands behind him, grinning very much like a cat that caught the canary. "What's the rush, Your Majesty? Eager to end the day already? Why, you haven't even been out of your rooms for five minutes. In fact, you haven't left your room in the last thirty nine hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-four seconds since you've returned! HA, but who's counting?"
"Yeah, I've been keeping to myself. But whose fault is that, huh?" Lucifer groused, stretching his leg out to the side to sidestep him. "I just need to get something from my room. It's gonna take me… however long you intend to hang around here."
Alastor laughs so hard he throws his head back and cracks his neck, and a disembodied audience echoes his amusement. Lucifer raises his brow at the shadows, frowning. "Oh, how convenient for you, Your Majesty! But I'm afraid I'm not buying that excuse. Why don't you resume your waddling walk to wherever, hm? I'll even escort you, if you wish!"
"Uh." Lucifer steps back, his mouth hanging open as he looks Alastor up and down. He instantly regrets it because a rush of heat fills his core, and he recalls that time when the mere thought of Alastor got him wet.
Looking away quickly, he flushes and curses himself. Of all the days to wake up a horny pregnant person, it has to be today? Fucking shit. "F-First of all, answer me this: why are you being so nice to me? Have you forgotten what you said to me the last time we were alone like this together? Because I haven't."
Alastor blinks, and Lucifer notices his smile faltering, albeit very slightly. Alastor seems to have learned to control his emotions for the most part, but for a god-like being like Lucifer, every and any reaction is noticeable and telling. Unless he's deliberately not paying attention, of course.
But he is now. Alastor may be far less powerful than he is, but given his (possible?) connection to the twins, he has more power over Lucifer now than ever before. That alone deserves a little caution, even if he's the most powerful being in Hell.
Lucifer swallows. The implications of it are slowly starting to hit him now, perhaps because he is finally thinking straighter than he has in the last few months.
If… If Alastor is indeed the father of his unborn children, and it is officially confirmed, it means he can have access to a considerable amount of diplomatic power over Hell. Power over him.
Power over his children.
'I really need to talk to Satan,' Lucifer frets internally, feeling light-headed. Is this why Satan advised him not to tell Alastor yet? Because Alastor may use it to his advantage? Is that what he is doing now by being—dare Lucifer say it—nice to him? Is he trying to get on Lucifer's good side?
'Charlie says he already knows,' Lucifer thinks to himself as he watches Alastor stand a bit straighter, ears perked. 'But I wonder about that. How can he possibly know?'
"I was saving this for a later conversation, but I suppose there's no time like the present," Alastor says, his tone heavier than Lucifer is used to hearing. With a sigh, and the frowniest smile Lucifer has ever seen, he says, "I… owe you an apology for my past behavior, Your Majesty. I will endeavor to treat you more fairly moving forward."
"... HUH?" Lucifer balks, recoiling from the other man like he just grew five-thousand heads. "What the fuck did you say to me? You're sorry? For real?"
Alastor sighs again, looking away. His ears are drawn back, and despite his incredulousness, Lucifer can't help but find the Radio Demon's obvious irritation (bashfulness?) a little… endearing. "Yes, my deer sovereign. For real. I have done quite a bit of self-reflection over the last few months, and I realize that my previous behavior towards you was, at times, needlessly and excessively cruel."
"Okay, man, quit it. You're giving me the heebies and the jeebies. Stop acting so weird and... start pulling my hair, or something!"
"I do not understand that reference, but I am conveying genuine remorse here. If you do not want to accept it, just say it. But do not question my sincerity."
"... Are you still dying?" Lucifer asks suddenly, making Alastor blink in alarm. Placing his hands on his hips, he eyes Alastor's chest and squints. "I'm sure I got rid of all that holy energy killing you, but if there's any left, you should let me know so I can take it out. In fact, if you're up to it, I can just heal you directly now instead of taking that energy away—"
"I was never dying," Alastor interjects with a snarl; his voice becoming garbled with static.
Lucifer guffaws, unperturbed by Alastor's radio dial eyes and enlarged, serrated teeth. He waves his hand, glowing with healing power, and says, "Yeah, sure you weren't. You can't lie to me though, bucko. Holy energy is practically in my DNA, and I could sense it on you like, all the time. That's how I found out you were hurt in the first place!"
Alastor closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. Then, with a softer, but no less snarly voice, he says, "Granted, I was experiencing side-effects from my fight with that uncouth fellow—"
"You were dying, man! Dyingggg!"
"—but I can assure you that I am completely fine. Do you still sense any holy energy on me?"
Lucifer hums to himself, tapping his chin. Squinting, he leans forward till his face is almost touching Alastor's chest, and the taller man goes completely still. Closing his eyes, Lucifer concentrates to feel the energy in the air—
…And finds nothing. Nothing that isn't completely, uniquely Alastor, anyway. Now that he's paying closer attention, though, he does sense something else that's different but somehow… familiar?
Also dangerous. Very, very dangerous.
Lucifer doesn't get a chance to take a closer look though, because all of a sudden the twins start going crazy, making him jump a whole yard away with a startled cry.
Alastor blinks. "Your Majesty?"
Lucifer blinks back wordlessly, then looks down at his belly. He places his hands on it, shocked to find it moving with activity. His jaw drops when he sees the outline of a tiny foot (hoof?) pushing against his skin, whoa now.
"Hey, what's got you guys so…" He trails off as he reaches out to his kids' mindscapes, learning that the little terrors' minds are overflowing with excitement and curiosity. He even gets images of one of them doing a pirouette and the other… some kind of breakdance? Huh? Why are they doing this?
…Is it because of Alastor?
Swallowing, he looks up to see Alastor looking… oddly severe. He's still smiling, but his eyes are narrowed, considering, and they are trained on his pregnant belly. Like a predator waiting to pounce… or a proud progenitor who knows exactly who put the kids in him in the first place.
Either way, it's got Lucifer feeling a little hot, if you catch his drift.
Lucifer clears his throat and pulls at his collar, forcing out a laugh. "Ha, umm, so… the twins are hungry! Which is why they're kicking up a storm in there. Possibly literally, with how fast they're both spinning. I should deal with that before they create a black hole and cause me to implode or something! Wouldn't that be a sight to see?
"Anyways, Al, good talk, but I gotta go. I have an appointment to get to later so I need to—"
"Hungry, you say?" Alastor materializes in front of him in a burst of shadow, all large smiles and manic eyes again. "Well, do I have a solution for that! I just so happen to have finished an assortment of breakfast options for you to choose from. Of course, the rest of the hotel has likely devoured most of it, but I can easily whip up something for you to satisfy that enormous, gestating appetite of yours!"
As if on cue, Lucifer's stomach rumbles loudly. Coughing in his fist, Lucifer looks away and starts walking down the hallway. "I mean, if you insist. But I'm warning you, I'm not allowed to eat a lot of things that give me gas. Or high blood pressure. And nothing too sweet, you hear me? I don't even want to see a lump of sugar."
"Oh, is that so?" Alastor intones, raising a brow as he walks in-step with Lucifer. Granted, he has to slow down his strides just to do so, but that's what he gets for being a tall fucker. "Why, I never thought I'd see the day you'd deny your sweet tooth! Perhaps miracles do happen, don't they, my deer sovereign?"
"You know, I'm getting real tired of you calling me that," Lucifer grumbles.
Alastor laughs. "But that's what you are, Your Majesty! Albeit an absent one, yes. Oh, but I'm sure your people love you ever so deerly, despite your incompetence."
"Fuck off."
"Hmm, no, I don't think I will!"
"Assbutt," Lucifer says under his breath. They both reach the stairs, and Lucifer is about to take a step down, but he realizes one thing: "I can't see my feet."
"I'm surprised you just noticed! You look quite… fecund."
"What the fuck did you just call me?"
"Idiot, I didn't insult you! I meant you're fertile!"
"Ohhhhh. Uh. Thanks?"
"It wasn't a compliment either, you little fool," Alastor hisses, though he looks away briefly. Probably in need of privacy as he rethinks his life choices. Lucifer can relate. "We're wasting too much time. Allow me."
"Allow you to what?" Lucifer asks, squinting. Then, without a word, Alastor wraps them both in a flurry of shadow. "Huh—"
"Idiot," is the last thing he hears before the shadows completely cover both of them.
"Hey!"
One day, Lucifer is going to look back and realize just how bizarre today has been. Never mind that it's barely ten in the morning, but sometimes a series of events just marks the day, you know? In this case, it's Alastor taking Lucifer on a (sadly platonic) joyride in the shadows.
It's a little strange, he decides, to be traveling like this. He's familiar with the theory, but he's more of a portal guy, you know? It's much faster and easier, and not to mention, it impresses the hell out of people! Like, holy fuck, a portal! That's like some nerd fantasy or sci-fi shit!
But he can see the benefits of Alastor's preferred way of fast travel, too. It's discreet and silent, and Lucifer can list a couple of situations where being sneaky can be an advantage. Like smuggling cookies in your room. Or planning a surprise polka-pop party. Or a holy rebellion against one's Creator and his army.
'It probably wouldn't have worked on him, though. He's omniscient,' Lucifer thinks irritably as they both materialize in the kitchen together. Razzle looks up from where he's preparing Lucifer's healthy breakfast and balks at the sight of them. 'But man, Sera wouldn't know what hit her. And maybe Michael wouldn't have snatched my sword that time, if I had gotten away quickly. Hmph, sword-stealing prick!'
"Here we are," Alastor says with a flourish. He waves a finger as a dark tendril grabs his apron from the hanging rack—the words "Ace in the Kitchen" embroidered on the front in flowing, pink script. A gift? "Now, it seems like there's hardly anything left from breakfast. Oh, well! I can prepare a quick brunch. Can you eat eggs?"
"Uh," Lucifer says, dragging out the sound as he watches Alastor tie the apron around his surprisingly small waist. He flushes gold and looks away, clearing his throat. "B-Belphy gave me a list of food I can and can't eat. I haven't been preparing my own food lately, so I'm not familiar with everything on it, to be honest."
"That's fine. Give it here," Alastor says with a beckoning hand.
"Oh, it's on my phone. Let me forward it to you real quick. What's your number?" Lucifer asks. At Alastor's glare, he says, "Okay, what's with the vertical eyebrows this time, testy Bessie?"
"Can you not simply write it down? Or just show it to me?"
"Why? It's easier for me to just forward it to you."
"Easier doesn't mean better. Being pregnant doesn't mean you can get away with laziness, Your Majesty."
"Who says I'm being lazy? It's just more convenient! Smartphones are practically a necessity nowadays, you know. Everyone does everything on their phones!"
"Yes, so I've noticed."
"So! Tell me your number."
"…I cannot."
"Why? You don't memorize it, do you? HA! Who's the lazy one now, bozo?"
"I cannot give it to you because I don't have one."
"You don't have what?"
"That! A smartphone… thing!"
Lucifer blinks one eye after the other. Then, he blows a raspberry and clutches his bulging middle, laughing so hard that tears gather in his eyes. "Oh, oh, that's funny, Radio Guy. I get that you're sticking to your old-timey, dapper branding, but there's no way you don't have a smartphone. Father, that's the funniest shit I heard in a while.
"But okay, seriously, just give me your damn phone so I can helldrop your number to my phone. Come on," Lucifer says, opening and closing his hand. When nothing happens, he just stares at Alastor, who's staring back wordlessly with a twitching eye and snarling smile.
Lucifer blinks once. Then twice. Finally, after several beats, he leans back against the counter, gasping. "No way. You really don't have a smartphone? Monster."
"If you are quite done—" Alastor snarls, his form hulking, but he doesn't get to say anything else because Razzle suddenly swoops in between them, snarling back and forcing Alastor to take a few steps back.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, down boy," Lucifer says, grabbing Razzle by the scruff of his neck and pulling him away from Alastor. Razzle is kicking and huffing, going between bleating and roaring as he keeps his eyes trained intensely on Alastor. "What's gotten into you? It's just Alastor!"
"I can imagine he thinks I'm a threat," Alastor says, inspecting his sharp nails.
Lucifer clucks his tongue, shaking his head. He eyes Razzle disapprovingly and shakes him a little. "Now, Razzle, Alastor may be an asshole but he's not a threat, okay? Why don't you cool off in the garden, or something?"
Razzle bleats pathetically, switching between snarling at Alastor and pleading with Lucifer with his eyes. Lucifer almost caves—what a cutie dragon-goat homunculus—but his stomach rumbles again. Lucifer sighs.
"It's okay, buddy. I'll be fine." Lucifer lets Razzle go, and the dragon-goat hybrid hovers and whines. "Why don't you go to Charlie and ask if she needs help with anything? I'll eat what you made, but Alastor is gonna make me a little something, too. Chia seed pudding isn't enough for what's in store for me today!"
Razzle stares at Lucifer. Then glances at Alastor, who gives him a large, smug smile. With one last snarl, Razzle flaps his wings and leaves the kitchen, looking over his shoulder all the while.
Lucifer watches him leave as Alastor turns to take a frying pan out of the cupboard. He scratches his his head, puckering his lips in thought. "What was that all about?"
"Perhaps he is still mourning his fallen sibling," Alastor offers, his tone candid despite his answer. "Grief brings out the worst in us, I'm afraid."
"Hey," Lucifer chides, turning to glare at Alastor's back. "I know he overreacted, but you don't have to be so cruel. I created him and Dazzle to be Charlie's vassals and protectors, and since Charlie ordered him to watch over me, that protection extends to me now. He was just doing his job."
Alastor sighs and shrugs, sending a not-so apologetic smile over his shoulder. "If you say so, Your Majesty, then I apologize for my uncharitable words."
Lucifer rolls his eyes. "I dunno what your deal is, but you don't have to be such a prick all the time, you know. Have a heart."
"Your advice is duly noted. Now, then." Alastor quickly approaches him and, to Lucifer's muted shock, lifts him up to seat him on the stool by the island counter (quack!). While Lucifer is slack-jawed, Alastor says, "If you would be so kind as to show me the approved list of ingredients I can feed you?"
"Oh, sure." Lucifer fishes his phone out of his blazer pocket and taps on it a few times. He shows Alastor the screen, and Alastor squints as he reads the text on it. "Sorry it's not on a proper document file. Belphy just listed all the things in the chat one by one and she's too lazy to send a consolidated copy."
"This will do," Alastor says. He furrows his brows as he reads the list, humming. "I use a lot of the ingredients listed here. That will be a challenge to replace."
Lucifer shrugs. "Don't sweat it, man. It's not like I follow the list completely, anyway. I mean, I ate all of your jambalaya—"
"You did?" Alastor asks, his voice raised slightly.
"Uh, yeah? I mean, that's what I was supposed to do, right?" Lucifer says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Unless… I wasn't because you poisoned that shit! Treasonous ne'er-do-well!"
"While seeing what poisons would do to your immortality would be an interesting experiment," Alastor intones as Lucifer shakes his fist at the sky, promising vengeance for his betrayal. "I'm not so gauche as to sabotage the health of my deer, pregnant sovereign—"
"Like you didn't threaten to eat my kids before, you prick!"
"—but it both worries and flatters me that you ate what I offered without hesitation! Survival instincts? Never heard of it! Talk about an exercise in trust.
"But tell me, Your Majesty: did you enjoy my humble offerings? I made them specially for you!" Alastor leans forward, smiling wide with eyes like bloody crescents.
Lucifer blinks, startled by their closeness. Pulling at his collar roughly, he laughs and says, "O-Oh yeah, I sure did! Dunno why, but your jambalaya hit the spot! I've been craving some kind of thing lately, but nothing I ate so far ever satisfied it because I don't even know what it is. There was still something missing in it, but it was very close!
"Anyway, uh, yeah, I really liked it! It gave me gas, though, which is apparently not good because I'm already gassy from being pregnant, and I shouldn't be making it worse, I guess? I had to ask Gadreel to smuggle your deliveries to my room 'cause everyone else kept hiding them from me!"
Alastor blinks, having already backed away and straightened up sometime during Lucifer's rambling. He tilts his head to the side, saying, "Oh? You enjoyed it that much?"
"Yeah. And… the kids enjoyed it, too, I think." Lucifer looks down at his belly, smiling softly. "Whatever you put it in, they seem to like it a lot. There's still something missing, like I said, but I can't figure out what it is."
"…I see," Alastor looks down at his stomach, seeming oddly distracted. Then, he lifts his hand. "Perhaps—"
"DAD?!"
Alastor and Lucifer jump a bit and turn to the entrance of the kitchen. They see Charlie panting by the door, looking like she ran all the way here from who knows where. Behind her, a frowning Razzle is seen hovering and looking over her shoulder.
Alastor narrows his eyes. Lucifer looks between him and Charlie for a few beats before smiling brightly and waving. "Good morning, kiddo! Did you eat breakfast already? If not, come join me! Though technically I'm having brunch right now. Holy shit, is it really past ten already?"
"Dad, are you okay?" Charlie walks up to them till she is on the other side of the island counter, resting her hands on it. She shifts her gaze to the side, her worried gaze instantly cooling. With a raised brow, she greets, "Alastor."
"Charlotte," Alastor greets back with just as much frost. After maintaining eye contact for several quiet beats, he sighs and holds his hands up in the air. "I suppose this is my cue to leave. I will have to make you breakfast some other time, Your Majesty."
"Wait, what?" Lucifer blinks, sitting up. He looks between the two of them and asks, "What's going on? Don't tell me you two fought. Sweetie, what did I say about fighting with friends?"
"Dad," Charlie says, dragging out the syllable as she pinches her nose.
"It's quite fine, deer sovereign. I understand that I overstepped." Alastor removes his apron and hangs it on the rack again. With a large smile, he says, "But that is exactly why I apologized! Even I do not believe myself above contrition."
"Is that true, dad? Did he apologize?" Charlie asks, blinking.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Lucifer says a little distractedly, nodding. He looks between Alastor and Charlie, unsure who to focus on. "We're good, I guess? Water under the bridge, blah, blah."
"Precisely!" Alastor raises his hands in the air, followed by a disembodied audience's cheers and whoops. "But I understand that I am in hot water, so to speak. Perhaps it's best that I withdraw for now. It was nice chatting with you, Your Majesty. Very… fruitful."
"Uh, yeah, you too."
"I will see you around. Oh, goodness, let me fix that for you."
Alastor reaches out towards Lucifer's neck, making the smaller man hold his breath. Alastor only pauses briefly when Charlie growls quietly, but he eventually continues his movements. Lucifer's pulse quickens as Alastor fixes his tie, which he had messed up earlier, apparently.
"There. All better." Alastor draws back, smiling smugly. "We can't have you be seen looking unkempt, hm?"
"R-Right," Lucifer says, swallowing. He reaches up to pull at his collar again, but stops himself at the last second. Instead, he fiddles with his wedding band, laughing. "Thanks, man."
"You're welcome," Alastor says, his voice sounding deeper than usual for a moment. His eyes trail from his wedding band to his belly, and once again Lucifer has to squeeze his legs tight (to the best of his abilities, anyway), because damn, can that man smolder without actually meaning to. Assbutt.
Alastor's grin widens as he turns to leave, but not before inclining his head towards Charlie in farewell. "Princess."
Charlie doesn't say anything back, but she does watch him intently as he leaves the kitchen. When he's finally out of sight, she turns around and starts spewing out, "Oh my gosh, dad, I'm so sorry for leaving you alone, I've just been so busy the last few days because people are trying to get in the hotel and it's all a bunch of reporters, stalkers, and other sketchy people and there's even a group of sinners claiming to be from your cult back on Earth who want to 'finally meet their lord and savior,' but obviously you can't do that because you're pregnant and you need to rest and—"
"Dear Father, breathe, kiddo!" Lucifer reaches out to squeeze her cheeks together. Once Charlie calms down, he lets go and watches her take deep breaths for a few beats. "Look, I know you're busy with the hotel, so it's no big deal. I'm fine on my own for the most part, so you don't need to worry. I just ran into Alastor on the way down here, and one thing led to another."
"Why aren't you eating in your room?" Charlie asks, walking around the island counter to sit beside him. This close, Lucifer can really see how worried she is. "Is Razzle not making enough? Aunt Belphy says your appetite might come and go depending on the day, but maybe you need something more filling now? She sent me a list of food and activities you can and can't do, and I compiled them all into a folder for easy reference—"
"And I appreciate that, sweetie," Lucifer smiles, taking her hand and patting it a few times. "But I'll be fine, all right? I didn't have all of this prenatal care when I had you. I did have your mom to help out, but it wasn't very often, since she was still running Hell most of the time."
"Still, you can get hurt." Charlie deflates a little at his words, but her eyes still shift wildly as she speaks. "The twins can get hurt. Alastor may have apologized, and that's honestly great, but I haven't forgotten him saying that he's going to eat my baby siblings!"
"Huh, he told you about that too, huh?"
"What do you mean 'too?' He taunted me about it when we fought!"
"Wait, you two actually fought? You're practically besties! Was it like, an argument or a hell-magic showdown?"
"Um, a bit of both?"
"…Did you win?"
"What kind of question is that, dad?!"
"Come on! Indulge me."
"…I guess I could have won if you hadn't arrived."
"HA, that's my girl! Take that, Radio Prick!"
"Daaad," Charlie groans, hiding her flushing face in her hands.
Lucifer snickers, pinching her cheek when she's done hiding her blush. He laughs harder when she tries to swat him away, but very half-heartedly. "Come on, none of that. I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself. You remember what I said about dealing with these sinners?"
"'You don't take shit from other demons,'" Charlie echoes, sounding fond even as she rolls her eyes.
"That's right, and don't you forget it," Lucifer says, pressing a fist against her cheek and pushing slightly. "That includes pushy reporters and creepy civilians, too! You said something about the hotel getting unwanted visitors earlier, right?"
"Ugh, don't get me started," Charlie says, slumping forward and rubbing her temples. She looks so done, and Lucifer can't help but wince in sympathy. "To be honest, we've been dealing with the media for a while now, especially after the whole Adam thing, so I'm a little used to all the coverage. But lately they've been really pushy, and their questions are more about you than the last Extermination or even the hotel. I dunno what's happening, but I have a bad feeling everyone and their mom asking about you isn't a coincidence."
Lucifer frowns, rubbing his chin in thought. "Hmm, that is weird. Honestly, sinners started losing interest in me about a couple of decades ago, so I dunno what about me is getting them excited all of a sudden."
"Maybe it's because you showed your face for the first time since then?" Charlie suggests, but even she doesn't look convinced by her own words. Straightening up, she asks, "Also, you said people started losing interest in you a couple of years ago. Why do you say that?"
"I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I am the King of Hell, sweetie. People used to talk about me all the time. I may be a recluse, but I'm neither deaf nor blind. I read and hear shit about me all the time, and it's all damn near reverential. It's… a little scary, to be honest. But that hasn't happened again for a long while. Not until now."
"Huh. Strange. Do you remember what was happening at that time? It's weird for the people to suddenly stop caring about you, only to do it all over again!"
"Well, at the top of my head," Lucifer begins, looking up at the ceiling. "That was when television became a thing in all the Rings. I vaguely heard about it from your mother after she visited some expo, and then all of a sudden it was everywhere. It was such a hit that Mammon stole the idea and sold his own TV products in the other Rings."
"But you're still a big deal in the other Rings?" At Lucifer's nod, Charlie frowns at her feet. "So it's just the people here in Pride who stopped making a big deal out of you?"
Lucifer nods again. "Until recently, yeah."
Charlie's frown deepens. "So if the Hellborn in the other Rings treat you the same, but over here they don't, then that means there's something about the TVs here that changed that. Maybe even other technology, too. And every piece of technology here in Pride all comes from one source…" She clenches her fist and glares at the ceiling, snarling. "Vox."
"Who?" Lucifer asks, narrowing his eyes.
Charlie shakes her head. "Never mind. It's just a hunch, anyway. Just… lay low for a while, okay dad? That means no going out for whatever reason! Not until the twins are born, anyway."
Lucifer pauses. Then he looks away with a laugh. "Um, about that, Charlie, I…"
Charlie sighs. "What now, dad?" she asks flatly.
Lucifer waves his hands frantically in front of him. "Nothing awful! It's just a meeting with your uncle Satan! He wants to discuss my pregnancy, apparently. Maybe he has more information about its nature and how it happened."
"Oh!" Charlie's expression softens, then she even looks a little excited. "Oh, that sounds so interesting! Can I come with?"
"Charlie, where—" Vaggie enters the kitchen, pausing when she sees them. Standing straighter, she forces a smile on her face and bows. "Good morning, Your Majesty. Did you sleep well?"
Lucifer smiles and nods. "I did, thank you. How have you been?"
"Just fine, Your Majesty," Vaggie says as she approaches them. With a more somber expression, she turns to Charlie and says, "They're asking for a statement. Things are getting a little wild, and I dunno if Alastor's minions can keep them at bay for long."
"Oh, right! I should go back," Charlie says, standing up. She looks at Lucifer who blinks innocently up at her, then at Vaggie. Then back at her dad, and then Vaggie. She repeats this a few more times before groaning and rubbing her eyes. "Oh, but I want to go meet uncle Satan! I have so many questions about the pregnancy! Like how many times you should eat or if you can start taking Lamaze classes or if you should take them at all—"
"Charlie, we don't have much time—"
"It's okay, sweetie! We can have a big get-together soon. I'll let Satan know you said hi!"
"Okay," Charlie says, looking over her shoulder as Vaggie pushes her out of the kitchen. It's quiet for a few beats when she disappears, but she suddenly comes back, gripping the side of the entryway with her claws. "YoucomebackhomerightawayifyoustartfeelinguncomfortableorsomethingI'msureuncleSatanwillunderstand—"
"Charlie!" Vaggie cries out and pulls her away with as much strength as she can.
"Sweetie, it's fine!" Lucifer says, waving her away. "Go do your job. I'll message you when I get there, okay?"
"OkayloveyoubecarefulstaysafeIloveyouroutfitbythewayyoulookgreat—"
"¡Mierda!"
Vaggie makes one final pull, and it works so well that Charlie, as well as a large chunk of the wall, come flying away with her. Lucifer vaguely registers a crashing sound, but he's sure that they're fine… mostly.
Now that all the excitement is done, though, Lucifer suddenly feels tired. He takes a deep breath and sighs, resting his chin on his hand. To think that he still has the rest of the day to spend before he can go back to his room and play temporary-death on his bed. Not to mention, he's going to find out more about his pregnancy in less than an hour.
'I'm sure it'll be fine,' he reassures himself, but even his fake enthusiasm falls flat. He places a hand on his stomach, smiling softly when the twins meet him halfway and press against his hand. 'And it'll be worth it, if I can do better this time around.'
His stomach rumbles.
'…but first, brunch.'
Alastor has had a few days to process, but he finds that he still can't wrap his mind around it. Even seeing Lucifer in person, rotund and full of growing life, has done very little to reassure or convince him. The idea is just so outlandish, ridiculous, impossible that it's taking every ounce of his remaining sanity to not burst out into laughter to drown out the crippling anxiety threatening to strangle him to paralysis.
His Shadow is absurd. Utterly daft and absurd. Of all the names that his Shadow could have revealed to be the abominations' sire, his own had not been one he expected.
Because how? Why? How?
'Ludicrous. Completely ludicrous,' Alastor thinks to himself as he leaves the kitchen. He laughs—a hollow, static-ridden sound—and shakes his head. Surely, it must have been hearing things. Or hallucinating. Desire can muddle the senses, after all. His own Shadow is no exception.
'Desire?'
Alastor stops in his tracks. After several beats of silence, he laughs so hard the shadows in the wall titter manically along with him.
"Goodness, where is all this coming from," Alastor says to himself, wiping a tear from his eye. He walks up the stairs, his shoulders still shaking from taking deep breaths and wheezing . "Comedy. Absolute comedy—the mere thought !"
He shakes his head, his laughter calming down to occasional chuckles as he makes his way to the top of the stairs. He stops in his tracks when he is greeted by that cursed guardian of Charlie's—or Lucifer's now, at least for the meantime.
Alastor rolls his eyes as he takes in Razzle's stance—the tiny dragon-goat creature attempting to look menacing even in his tiny, cuddly form. After a few beats of staring, he waves a hand at it dismissively, "Oh, do calm down, little one. If I truly wanted to harm your charges, I would have done so already! You know this."
Razzle doesn't verbally respond, not that Alastor thinks it can. Instead, it growls at him, and for a moment, Alastor saw a flash of its dragon-like features appear on its tiny visage.
Alastor turns his head to glance at the statue of Dazzle standing proudly and ferociously in the lobby. A thought comes to his head, and he turns back to grin predatorily at the little homunculus.
"I would be careful, if I were you, little Razzle. If you test me too much," he says. When Razzle just growls even louder, he tuts and tilts his head towards the statue. "You may end up like your dear brother over there."
Alastor had been expecting it, so he isn't completely taken aback when Razzle growls in his face—not as a cuddly little goatling, but as a tinier, but no less frightening version of his dragon form. The shadows in the walls dance, as if ready to rescue their master at a moment's notice.
But Alastor doesn't think he needs it. In fact, this is the perfect opportunity to test something.
"Now, now, where are your manners?" he asks it with a patronizing lilt to his voice, relishing in the way it bares his teeth at him—strings of saliva longer than his neck connecting sharp teeth. "I do believe there's no need for all this posturing. At least, not anymore. After all, we're going to be family soon. Isn't that right?"
The reaction is instant. Razzle stops growling, and though he is still baring his teeth, he takes a few careful steps back so that he can transform back into his original form. Alastor maintains loaded eye contact with the slitted gaze of the homunculus, but eventually, much to his shock—his delight, Razzle looks away. Cowed. Defeated. Resigned.
Alastor's shoulders start shaking again.
Oh, this is completely ludicrous. It's absolute comedy.
It's divine justice.
"Well, now that we've settled things," Alastor says between gasps of giggles. He passes by the forlorn-looking homunculus, not looking back. "Let's make sure to take care and trust each other from now on. Hmm?"
Then Alastor vanishes into the shadows in a trail of manic green and cruel, echoing laughter.
Notes:Sigh, writer's block is a bitch xD The recent new episodes of Helluva Boss kinda left me uncertain of the direction of this fic, mostly because the official designs of the last three Sins (Satan, Leviathan and Belphegor) were revealed. My fan interpretation of Satan was pretty spot-on, but the lore drop in that episode kinda bummed me out HAHA. It made me wonder for a long time if I had to do an overhaul for some aspects of this fic, particularly for the Sins.
But I decided against it. As much as I love the revealed designs, I started this fic with a solid idea in my head that I realized I don't want to change--not even to accommodate canon. So moving forward, I will proceed with my original designs/characterizations of Satan, Leviathan, and Belphegor. I hope that's okay with you all!
ANYWAY, onto the actual chapter. I actually really, really enjoyed this! It was the fastest chapter I wrote, which will explain any mistakes if I made any, but it flowed pretty smoothly. I was probably motivated by the fact that in this chapter, Lucifer and Alastor interact for the first time in a long, long time! SINNERS REJOICE <3
I have plans for Emily, hehe. Or rather, Heaven itself. Also, I mentioned Michael in this story, and I'm aware that people in this fandom connect him to Lucifer in some way, but that confuses me kinda. Is it a Supernatural thing? I never watched that show, so I have no idea. As a Catholic girly, I only know their interaction was when Adam and Eve were banished from Eden, and Lucifer was punished by Michael as well. The archangel Michael is often depicted as stepping on a snake too, so that means they're not particularly friendly. Either way, I'll be going with this idea in this fic, so if you're expecting them to have had a close bond here or something, sorry, but that's not the plan.
And finally, ohhh, the reunion! Gosh, I dunno about you, but with all the drama, conflict, and even action in the last few chapters, this calm, almost domestic atmosphere is giving me whiplash HAHAHAHA! Which is okay, I guess? We (and Alastor) deserve a break. Of course, consequences from last chapter are still ongoing, particularly between Charlie and Alastor. Things will improve between them, but that will take a bit of time.
To those who were complaining about Alastor not knowing being some kind of mean joke, well, I hope you're happy now HAHAHA. I guess it's because I update slow, but I personally think the pacing of events is reasonable. Though even now, Alastor doesn't completely believe it (I mean, would you in his shoes?), but the idea is enough to give him some kind of high. But is he being nicer to Lucifer because he knows, or because he's taking Rosie's advice seriously? Who knows...
In the next chapter, we're finally meeting Satan! Yay! More lore, world-building, and Sin family shenanigans in store! And also plot things, as hinted in this chapter :) I hope you'll look forward to it.
Thank you for taking the time to read this latest chapter (and this long-ass author's note xD), and for sticking around until now! I know I've been updating slow lately, but it's a mix of writer's block and (probable) ADHD. I'm already taking steps to getting myself assessed to be sure. Hopefully, if I actually do have ADHD, I can get access to meds because at this point, I'm even finding it hard to focus doing the things I genuinely enjoy ; u ;
See