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This wasn't a phase.
People just didn't understand Charlie! She was a vessel filled with darkness and pain and it was time for people to finally see that.
Especially her - unbearably - understanding parents, who didn't take the hundred and sixteen year old and her (non) phase as seriously as Charlie wished. They had to learn that Charlie was now growing up. Gone were the days of rainbows, unicorns and... pink!
Gone were the days of cuddling, bedtime stories and singing.
Instead, Charlie had given in to dark thoughts, dressing in many facets of black and using more kajal and eyeliner than she would have liked. The curtains in her room were always drawn and if someone actually dared to open them, the person was nicely informed of the mistake with wild snarls and threatening statements. This was effective if the person responsible was not her parent. Funnily and strangely enough, the teenager still got the short end of the stick with them.
"Charlie!" her father sang as he ripped open the heavy curtains with far too much enthusiasm, opening the window - to let air out the cougar cage Charlie had fabricated - and then whirled around to his daughter's bed, who only grumbled as she buried herself deeper into the cocoon of blankets and pillows. "Get up, duckling! It's a wonderful new day and you certainly don't want to spend it sitting in here, do you?".
A concert of shouts and curses drifted into the room from the streets; a cynical wink, but Lucifer only covered it with a labored grin and a twitching eyelid. For a moment, he looked at the mountain of blankets, pillows and a few stuffed animals that surely housed Razzle and Dazzle somewhere, before walking towards it and pulling a blanket away with a flourish.
"Char Char~," he whispered, but was only greeted with a middle finger that had somehow managed to fight its way out of the pile.
"Come on, ducky," he started the next attempt. "I made pancakes."
Suddenly a slender figure leapt out of the pile, hurling Razzle and Dazzle across the room, who had indeed been sleeping soundly in the blankets, two red eyes glaring at the King of Hell. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that, Dad!"
Lucifer leaned nonchalantly on his walking stick: "And what should I call you then, Applepie?"
"Not that." - "Give me suggestions or I'll keep going."
Charlie groaned from deep in her throat and flopped back into her bed as she pulled her pillow over her face. "Shadowheart? Princess of pain? Queen of the night?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no~" Lucifer waggled his finger and clicked his tongue in rebuke. "That name is reserved for your mother." - "Eww."
"And if you don't get up soon, I'm sure the latter will come herself to see where we are. And then we'll both have a problem. We don't want that, do we, ducky?" the king continued to purr, pursing his lips into what could be described as a duckface. Charlie only half peeked out from her pillow and glared at her father for a moment.
"If I get up, will you promise to stop this duck crap?" - "Never! But I can promise you that I'll leave your room immediately so you can get ready. I'm sure you don't want to walk around in your pyjamas, do you?"
At Charlie's grumble, which Lucifer interpreted as a Yes, he left the room and left the princess to her own devices, who struggled to get out of bed. Damn it, why did her parents have to accept her phase - no! - her new stage of life like this? Other parents cursed, demanded that their child go back to the way it used to be and forbade them the new experiences. But Charlie's parents were just so... understanding.
It was sickening!
Slowly, she trotted into her bathroom and threw on her clothes. A fresh combination of black, black and... oh yes, black. Perfect. Her black dyed bangs combed sweepingly into her face and eyeliner generously smeared over her eyes, Charlie was ready for the gruesome day that lay ahead. As she looked at her stoic expression in the mirror, she wondered how she could contain her boundless joy at the new experiences she was about to have.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The kitchen was flooded with the sweet aroma of pancakes.
Charlie wanted to vomit, even though she was a little happy about the pancakes. Her father usually made them and that meant they were heavenly - no pun intended. Still, she managed to keep her face emotionless as she settled into her seat, only to receive a plate of steaming pancakes straight from her father. Topped with sprinkles and a dash of whipped cream, just like Charlie had always eaten.
"Do the sprinkles have to be colorful?" she mumbled as she stared at her pancakes, almost as if they had personally offended her.
Lucifer, dressed in a silly chef's hat and an apron that read Hell's Kitchen Head Honcho, whirled around, snapped his fingers once, and the sprinkles promptly changed color from colorful to deep black.
"Thank you, I guess?" muttered the Princess of Blackness, more disappointed at her parents' renewed openness. Was it so hard to give Charlie something for once so that she could play her nobody understands me and my pain card?
"Always happy to, Applepie!"
"Daaaad!" moaned the princess, but received no reply from the cook. Her mother, who had been sipping her tea ever since, looked at Charlie. "Did you sleep well, my darling?"
"No."
"Oh, did you have a bad dream?" - "My whole life is a nightmare. Then what difference does it make when I sleep? Sleep is nice. Sleep is good. When I sleep, I'm closer to eternal darkness," Charlie explained as she poked at her pancakes. Next to her, Lucifer settled down with his own plate, looking unsurely back and forth between his wife and daughter: "So... did you sleep well or not?"
"You wouldn't understand."
Silence fell over the table while the family ate breakfast together and Charlie pursued her own thoughts. Perhaps she could meet up with Octavia? The Gotia princess often shared her thoughts and it was good to have someone around who thought like her for a change. Or Charlie could sit in her room and write her dark thoughts into poems? Maybe she could also...
"Oh, Charlie. I brought you some make-up, by the way," her mother suddenly interrupted her thoughts. "You've been using it a lot lately. And so you don't have to use my make-up?"
"I didn't use yours at all. I used Dad's." - "Hey! As king of hell, I have some fucking standards! Do you know how often I work deep into the night? No one wants to see these dark circles!" the man in question defended himself loudly, to which Charlie responded with a raised eyebrow. "And why do you need eyeliner and kajal then?"
Her father stared at her like a puppy for a moment before replying: "Important things!" To avoid further interrogation, he buried his face in his duck-shaped pancakes.
"Anyway, I think it's wonderful that you want to emphasize your feminine side more, darling. If you like, I can show you a few moves and tricks?" her mother offered with a smile and Charlie would have loved to groan again. Why were they being so understanding?
"Even if I don't want you to go to sleep with them. These stains are hard to get out of the sheets and the servants have already been complaining," Lilith added and finally - finally - Charlie had something to hang on to. "You don't get it. My make-up helps me to express myself. The person I am deep down?"
"Then how about express yourself in makeup remover wipes instead of your pillows, darling? Leaving make-up on overnight isn't healthy." - "Isn't it?" Charlie looked up, confused.
"Of course it isn't. It can cause horrible acne and gives bacteria the perfect breeding ground. You don't want that, do you?"
Charlie scratched her chin, "I've never thought about it like that. Do you have the make-up wipes?" - "Of course, my darling. I'll give you some. And afterwards, can I show you how to apply eyeliner?" Lilith tenderly grabbed Charlie's cheeks and turned her face to the left and right. "Yours is still very uneven. What kind do you use?"
"A brush, I think." - "Oh, no. It's far too hard to start with. I've got another pen upstairs that should make it easier for you," her mother explained, which made Charlie smile for a moment.
"And if you want, ducky, we can go shopping afterwards. Maybe you'll find something that fits into your new wardrobe," her father added and Charlie really struggled to hide her smile. She quickly did the same as her father and buried herself in her pancakes.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have supportive parents after all.