Chapter Text
After Hell's victory against Heaven's exterminators after the chaos, the ashes, the shouting and the silence that followed Charlie finally saw the Hazbin Hotel standing whole again. Restored. Bright. Filled with laughter instead of fear.
It was the perfect moment, she decided, to celebrate not just their triumph... but the memory of Sir Pentious, who had given everything for them.
The banquet hall glowed with warm light. Banners draped the ceiling, music hummed through the walls, and demons of every sort flooded in. Those who had fought beside them were all invited Rosie included, entering with her perfect porcelain smile, a smile that could simultaneously soothe and terrify.
Charlie danced from guest to guest, her energy contagious.
Vaggie stayed nearby, stern but proud, keeping order with clipped instructions and sharp eyes.
Husk was at the bar, already rubbing his temples as the drink orders piled up.
But one presence was conspicuously absent.
Alastor.
Charlie paused, scanning the room. No crackle of static. No old-time jingle. No unsettlingly cheerful hum.
That alone was enough to raise her concern.
She hurried upstairs.
⸻
Charlie knocked softly on his door, her knuckles barely brushing the wood.
"Alastor? Are you in there? The banquet is starting soon and... I'm getting a little worried. Are you okay?"
Inside, the Radio Demon froze mid-movement.
He had been cleaning the wound Adam left an ugly, sharp slash that had cut deeper than his smile would ever let on. The bandages were white only for a moment before they absorbed the faint trace of crimson beneath.
He tied them neatly, elegantly, as if he were preparing a decorative ribbon rather than patching a wound.
Only then did he respond, voice bright and musical:
"My dear Charlie! Nothing to fear at all. I shall be downstairs in just a moment."
Even through the door, she felt his smile.
She let out a small breath.
"Okay... that's good. Oh! And... could you check on my dad on the way? I haven't seen him at all, and I'd really love for him to join us."
A beat of silence.
Not long but long enough for someone who knew him to sense hesitation.
"Why, of course," Alastor finally answered, cheerful as ever. "You have my word, Princess. He will be present."
Charlie brightened.
"Thank you! We'll see you soon!"
Her footsteps faded down the hall.
Alastor exhaled slowly, straightened his clothes, and restored every trace of his poised, polished demeanor.
One never showed cracks not even to oneself.
⸻
Lucifer's door swung open only halfway when Alastor knocked.
"Yes? What is it now?" the king groaned, sounding theatrically inconvenienced. "I am in the middle of doing absolutely nothing! A very important activity, mind you!"
Alastor stepped inside, posture immaculate.
"Lucifer, my good fellow. Your daughter humbly requests your presence for the opening of the banquet. And as I'm certain you agree nothing spoils a celebration faster than disappointing one's own child."
Lucifer squinted suspiciously.
"She sent you? Not Vaggie? Not one of the snake boys? You?"
A dramatic gasp. "Dear heavens, she must be under emotional duress."
"I offered to assist," Alastor replied pleasantly. "A harmonious evening benefits us all."
Lucifer stretched, groaning.
"Ugh. Fine. Let's go before Charlie thinks I've died or offended someone important."
"That would indeed be... regrettable."
⸻
Downstairs, the music was louder, the laughter brighter, the energy wilder.
Charlie's celebration was alive.
Unfortunately, Alastor found it insufferable.
The clamor, the bodies, the heat, the noise every vibration grated against his nerves. He maintained his smile, but something cold flickered underneath.
Lucifer noticed immediately.
A slow, cunning grin curled on his lips.
"Well, well, well... is the mighty Radio Demon struggling with a perfectly ordinary crowd? How precious."
Alastor turned his head with mechanical grace, eyes sharp, smile sharper.
"How curious to hear such mockery from a monarch who spends his days in seclusion... conversing with ducks. A fascinating social circle you've cultivated."
Lucifer stiffened.
"EXCUSE me?! They are sophisticated creatures—"
But Alastor wasn't listening.
He let out a low, static-laced chuckle soft, satisfied, deliberately provoking.
"My, my... losing your temper already? Over such a tiny remark?"
Before Lucifer could retort, Alastor dissolved into the nearest patch of shadow, slipping away like smoke.
Lucifer stared, jaw tight.
"Son of a—"
"Dad!" Charlie rushed over, bright as sunlight. "Are you okay? I saw you talking to Alastor but didn't want to interrupt! Are you two getting along better?"
Lucifer's soul visibly left his body.
He forced a tiny, strangled laugh.
"Aha... yes. Perfectly."
Despite Charlie's relentless optimism, the atmosphere of the banquet carried a faint tension, subtle, but unmistakable.
Guests laughed, danced, and toasted to victory, yet eyes occasionally drifted toward the two most powerful figures in the room. Lucifer's strained smiles and Alastor's overly polished cheerfulness did little to hide the crackling hostility simmering between them. Even demons who usually thrived in chaos exchanged uneasy glances. Something electric and sharp pulsed in the air whenever the King of Hell and the Radio Demon crossed paths, an undercurrent of rivalry so palpable it tugged at the edges of the celebration like static clinging to silk.
The banquet unfolded splendidly... but no one could pretend they hadn't noticed.
⸻
The moment the last guest staggered out of the hotel, Lucifer finally allowed his royal smile to collapse into a deep, exhausted grimace.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Sweet infernal heavens... if I hear one more demon congratulate Charlie for 'saving Hell', I'm throwing myself through a window," he muttered dramatically.
He stepped into one of the quieter corridors, grateful for the silence. The music no longer throbbed through the floor. The lights dimmed to something softer. Charlie and Vaggie were still cleaning up, laughing together in the distance.
Lucifer let out a long breath.
And then
crackle...
A faint radio hum behind him.
Of course.
He didn't bother turning around.
"Oh wonderful. I was wondering when the evening would be officially ruined."
Alastor's voice slid into the hallway like honey over glass.
"My, my. Quite testy tonight, aren't we? I thought the King of Hell would be in higher spirits after such a successful celebration."
Lucifer finally turned, glaring.
"You, radioman, spent the entire banquet poking at me like some kind of annoying mosquito."
Alastor pressed a hand dramatically to his chest.
"Oh! I would never! I was merely keeping the atmosphere lively. Can't have the monarch brooding in a corner all night how dreary!"
Lucifer's eye twitched.
"You're doing it again."
"What, dear Lucifer? Conversing? Existing?"
Alastor's grin sharpened. "My deepest apologies."
Lucifer threw his hands up.
"Uuuugh! I don't understand how Charlie finds you charming! You're like-like static! Constant! Irritating!"
Alastor chuckled, warm and unsettling.
"And yet... you continue to listen."
Lucifer froze, insulted and offended at the accuracy.
"I do NOT listen to you."
"Of course not."
A beat.
"You merely react to everything I say."
Lucifer's wings flared in irritation.
"I swear, if you weren't technically useful!"
"Ah-ah-ah," Alastor wagged a finger. "Careful, Your Majesty. Threatening your daughter's staff? How improper."
Lucifer groaned through his teeth.
"I am going to bed before I turn you into duck food."
"A delightful thought," Alastor mused. "Do give them my regards."
Lucifer stomped away, muttering curses under his breath.
Alastor watched him go, smile unchanging but his eyes dimmed slightly, betraying a flicker of real annoyance.
Only a flicker.
Then he vanished back into the shadows with a soft pop of static.
The moment the last demon limped or staggered out of the hotel, Lucifer let his carefully maintained royal poise disintegrate. His shoulders dropped, his wings sagged, and he let out the theatrical groan of a man who had been polite for far too many hours.
"Finally," he muttered. "Peace. Blessed, sweet, infernal peace."
He didn't get it.
Because as soon as he stepped into the quieter corridor
crackle...
"Of course..." Lucifer whispered, eyes closing in dread.
Alastor appeared behind him like a radio glitch manifesting into a person.
"Leaving so soon, Your Majesty?" he chimed. "The night is still young!"
Lucifer didn't bother hiding his miserable sigh.
"Oh please. Spare me. You've tormented me enough for one evening."
Alastor laughed softly, far too pleased. "I wasn't tormenting you. I was conversing."
"You were pestering," Lucifer snapped. "Incessantly. Like a fly. A very smug fly."
"Oh? How flattering."
Lucifer's eye twitched. "Not a compliment."
Alastor only bowed with exaggerated politeness.
"Well! Do sleep well, dear Lucifer. Try not to think too hard about the banquet's... shortcomings."
Lucifer glared hard enough to peel paint off the walls.
"If I hear another word from you tonight, I will personally mute every radio frequency in Hell."
Alastor gave a small static pop of amusement before fading into a corridor's shadow.
Lucifer didn't wait for him to fully vanish he just stomped off like a man with murder in his heart.
⸻
His private chambers were finally quiet.
Lucifer shut the door harder than necessary, the sound echoing through the room. His wings flared, then curled around him as he leaned back with a long, exasperated groan.
"Why," he asked aloud to no one,
"why is everybody in this hotel so emotionally exhausting?"
He tossed his hat onto a chair, missed entirely, and let it fall to the floor. He ignored it. He unbuttoned his coat with jerky, irritated motions, muttering under his breath.
"That radio demon... ugh. Static-for-brains... thinks he's clever... annoying little-"
He stopped himself, frowning.
Because the worst part?
He was clever.
That made it ten times more irritating.
Lucifer glared at his own reflection in the mirror as he removed his glasses.
"And why," he grumbled,
"must the only demon with a shred of wit be the one who wants to personally ruin my evening?"
He pulled back the blankets with a violent flick of his wrist, crawled into bed, and let his head drop onto the pillow with all the grace of a corpse.
Silence. Finally.
But his mind wasn't done complaining.
He flipped onto his back, wings sprawled across the mattress.
"Stupid banquet... idiots everywhere... too much noise... too many emotions... and that damned smile of his..."
He frowned.
Why was he thinking about that?
He slapped a pillow over his face.
"No. No more thoughts. I refuse."
A long, dramatic groan one only a tired father, reluctant king, and perpetually annoyed ancient being could produce escaped him.
Lucifer curled deeper into the blankets, still muttering insults in increasingly creative combinations.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
Not peace.
Not calm.
Just exhaustion.
And with a final whisper
"Static-for-brains..."
Lucifer finally fell asleep, still angry.