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At the Hazbin Hotel, most of the souls were still sleeping when a high-pitched scream was heard, followed almost immediately by another charged with static and then, much harder, the first voice screamed again, reaching screeching levels.
Or they would have heard them if the Radio Demon's rooms weren't soundproofed.
Lucifer liked to create. He liked the frenzy of having an idea in his head and working on it until it took shape and substance in the physical world; he liked the feeling of accomplishment once it was finished, he liked the joy that came afterwards and he liked, why not admit it in the privacy of his own mind, the amazement and excitement it provoked in others.
Lately his ideas may not have been as magnificent as creating galaxies from fragments of space dust given by the Almighty and yes, he may have been on a bad streak for a few millennia (starting with that apple little matter and ending with that amusement park. How was it possible that Mammon's version had a larger audience even after the lawsuit?!), but he still found solace in the art of creating. Especially if it was for Charlie.
With his daughter's birthday approaching Lucifer thought of a great idea. He would make Charlie a collection of ducklings designed like her friends! It was the perfect idea, combining his latest interest (Because ducklings were cool and adorable! And no, it had nothing to do with reading The Ugly Duckling to Charlie and all the feelings it gave him) with something Charlie could appreciate and that would perhaps provoke the astonishment of his daughter's sinful friends (and no, Lucifer was not crossing his fingers and asking his indolent creator to do so). At least most of them.
For a while Lucifer thought carefully about his little project, leaving outline and sketches in his idea notebook. Curiously, the first one that came to mind was the one he doubted the most. Did he really want to mix the guy he hates with the thing he loved? And in a gift for Charlie?! No, better to continue with the others.
The first was one of Maggie's. A gorgeous duckling carefully painted like the former angel and carefully modeled with a core made from Maggie's feather (after Lucifer tells her his idea, of course). Maggie the Duckling not only resembled her namesake but was also a charming nightlight ebbing with the essence of her daughter's beloved. And yes, Char-Char may no longer be a girl afraid of the dark, but Lucifer liked the idea of the duckling made as Charlie's partner being "a light in her life."
(Lucifer, after all, had always been a romantic at heart and divorce hadn't changed him.)
The rest were simple rubber ducks to complete the collection. He had thought about adding a mirror to the porn star's mirror, making the bartender's mirror a cup holder and the little maid's mirror a soap dish, but Lucifer was nervous about what it said about how he saw them. No, something simple was best. Maggie's would be the only special one.
And his, of course.
LuciDuck had little flashing lights. After all he was The Morningstar and Charlie's father, if anyone should be special it should be his and Maggie's, two of the most special people in Charlie's life the most special in her life.
With that Lucifer thought he was ready. He knew that there was one that he had not done. It was also the first one he designed because the idea of a literal Radio Duck was logical and fun. But Alastor didn't deserve it, he didn't have the right to all the work and appreciation and love he put into his creations. Those were for friends, family, or sinners his daughter decided were friends (definitely no friends that his daughter thought were family, that was absurd ). A sinful would-be father of the year position thief should not have a personalized duckling made by hands and divine energy. Screw that guy).
And Lucifer planned to stand firm in that opinion!
Only Charlie seemed to trust Alastor for hotel things and the petty gesture would probably make Charlie feel disappointed instead of offending the Radio Demon. So, very reluctantly, Lucifer created Radio Duck... but without the radio. If the others didn't win a special duck Alastor definitely didn't deserve one.
He painted Radio Duck with the same care he put into all his creations, perfect down to the smallest detail. He even added a small microphone! But it felt bad and incomplete. Pursing his lips, Lucifer went down to the bar with the duck in his pocket, hoping that the drink and some interaction would help him clear his head.
When he returned to his room several hours later and reached in to add the missing detail (it had been the damn monocle that he forgot). Seeing Alastor, as annoying as the interaction had been, had been all he needed to jog his memory. And everything would be ready and just in time for Char-Char's birthday!
Only... Radio Duck wasn't in his pocket.
He lost Radio Duck!
Normally he wouldn't care that he lost that one (he wouldn't even have under normal circumstances to begin with), but he refused to make TWO ducklings that looked like that insufferable guy. He has to get Radio Duck back at any cost!
Contrary to common belief Alastor did in fact bathe. He had no idea where those dirty rumors had come from that he didn't do it and that he bathed in blood to keep his hair and coat red (it certainly hadn't been himself on a broadcast 40 years 3 months and 7 days ago when he had fun with the answers his listeners gave him), but in reality bath time was one of his favorites.
Alastor filled the bathtub happily humming a song. Dancing, he neatly folded his clothes and left it on a stool, separating those that needed to go into the laundry basket and those that still had one or two more wears in them. He spun his microphone dramatically like a master of ceremonies and sang with his lips practically kissing the metal and spells that covered it before leaving it with a flourish to the side where he continued playing the song on its own.
With a twist of his wrists Alastor added the bath salts, grabbed his favorite shampoo and rinse, and turned off the water with a wave of his hand.
“There's something missing,” he said to himself and his very requesting shadow reached out to his coat and took out the object they had found earlier. “Of course!“Thank you, my friend.”
The poor creature, so perfect and interesting, had been left on the floor of the bar for anyone to crush. It was luck—or fate!—that Alastor had found him when he accidentally kicked him as he left.
The rubber duck was a magnificent representation of himself, even if they had forgotten to draw his monocle, and Alastor had to admire the mastery of the brush strokes, each detail drawn in a way that spoke of care and dedication. He had seen some recreations of him and had to say this was one of the best. Very flattering that someone had done it. More accurate than those strange life-size dolls he had burned from a store downtown (those had made him uncomfortable). Even if it was meant to be a tease Alastor had decided that he liked the little toy and that there were no better hands than his to take care of it.
Alastor lowered the bath toy into the water, holding it extremely gently in his sharp red claws. He looked at him critically, examining his duckly version, and nodded approvingly.
“Perfect,” he congratulated it before carefully stepping into the water (warm because it was hell and it didn't matter if you turned on the cold water tap) and sighing with satisfaction. After a second or two of enjoyment he opened his eyes and, humming again, pushed the little red duck across the tub, chuckling as his shadow also entered the water and caught him before redirecting him back.
Oh yes. Alastor really liked bath time and it seemed like he had found a way to make it better. Only him, his shadow, his him-duck and the delicious water on his tired muscles.
When he realized the problem (and after going crazy for a few minutes) he remembered that he could track all of his creations, a small part of his signature and essence was impregnated in them.
“Well, well, everything is fine. It’s not a disaster, the solution is easy just… I’m just exaggerating Luci,” he laughed nervously to himself.
After a couple of deep breaths and a sigh he sat up straight and closed his eyes. He visualized Radio Duck with his little red hair and ears on top of his head, the charming little red suit, the microphone attached, and his beak sculpted into a big, toothy smile. Actually, now that he thought about it, without the haze of creation and the back and forth about whether to do it or not, Radio Duck was honestly the traditional pretty and charming rubber duck. Thinking about it, Alastor was terrifying, surely most would think that duck with his manic smile was just as creepy. Maybe it was best that he got lost, so he couldn't give Charlie and Maggie nightmares.
“Hmm…” Lucifer considered it, but his power meandered and called out to him, pointing to where the missing in action was. With a sigh he resigned (at least he could deliver his gift the next day)
Alastor was finished with his bath, his hair was draining and he smelled pleasantly clean, but he had decided to stay a little longer playing with his other two friends.
The last thing he expected was for his shadow to splash over him and point to one end of the bathroom where a golden portal appeared.
Lucifer stumbled out of the portal, an embarrassing occurrence that always happened when he wasn't sure of the location and what was there.
He stumbled, swinging his arms in exaggerated circles to regain his balance until finally crashing into a surface (a bathtub, provided the part of his brain that wasn't busy regaining his balance and praying no one had seen him), almost falling face first into the soapy water. .
“Ha, that was close,” he said to himself. “Now where is that little rascal…” he looked up and his eyes were met first by a mouth that seemed to form a smile despite being open in surprise and then by a few reddish eyes just as stunned as him.
He and Alastor looked at each other for a few seconds without saying anything while they processed what was happening, then, at full speed, Lucifer realized that he was in the Radio Demon's bathroom. A Radio Demon very naked considering all the skin and scars that weren't covered by the water.
“Ahhh!” He screamed in horror.
Alastor opened his mouth half a second after Lucifer and let out an accompanying shout.
Hilariously, Lucifer let out a second scream almost before Alastor's faded away. Alastor opened his mouth again and let out another scream with the corner of his lips trembling to contain his laughter and Lucifer lunged towards him covering his mouth.
“Why are you screaming?!” The monarch shouted at him without noticing that part of his shirt was getting wet. The problem with almost falling face first into Alastor's bathtub and trying to reach him to shut him up, the demon assumed.
“Because you screamed!”
Had the sound coming from his mouth been muffled by Lucifer's glove, Alastor might have even added a touch or two of extra static to his voice to heighten the effect, but that It wouldn't be as fun. Instead the sound came from his cane lying on the side of the bathtub, a cane that was conveniently very close to Lucifer. Next to his ears in fact.
The little king squealed charmingly, lost his balance, and fell completely into Alastor's bathwater almost on top of him, which had the unfortunate effect of turning everything from an unexpected but fun situation into an uncomfortable and less fun one.
With a thought his tentacles wrapped around Lucifer's waist and threw him to the ground. Lucifer slid with an indignant sound across the floor tiles spitting and dripping water giving him a look that could compete with Husk in the soggy, grumpy cat category, which brought the fun back into the entire interaction.
“Was that necessary?” Lucifer asked him, draining water. Alastor just looked at him smugly from the bathtub, a hand covering his mouth as if he were scandalized (even though Lucifer could see the edges of the perennial smile. Seriously, that guy never stopped smiling?) and one arm modestly covering his fur-covered chest (as if there was something to hide or something Lucifer was interested in seeing. No sir, Lucifer wasn't interested in that bony torso so Alastor could keep his indignation to himself. Thanks) “You didn't have to be so rude, asshole.”
“Normally one is not polite with people who invite themselves to their bathroom without asking permission,” he said, raising his nose haughtily. Lucifer crossed his arms with a scoffing noise.
“Because you invite a lot of people to share your bathroom, I'm sure,” he said condescendingly. Alastor wouldn't even shake his hands directly, as if touch could spread germs in hell.
“Only those with impeccable style,” he assured him, looking him up and down with disdain. Lucifer bristled and gritted his teeth, a retort on the tip of his tongue but he was distracted when he saw the swaying movement of something near Alastor's elbow.
“Radio Duck!”
Lucifer dove into the bathtub with his eyes fixed on the poor duckling swimming innocently in the water. With a murmur of dismay Alastor grabbed him and pushed himself to the other end of the tub, shielding the poor darling against his chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He glared at Lucifer.
“Getting my duckling back!” Lucifer growled at him after nearly drowning again when his momentum caused him to fall headlong back into the water “Give it to me! Thief!"
“How could it be yours? Look at us, we're basically twins!” Alastor raised the duckling to the same level as his face and smiled with an equal amount of teeth on display.
Lucifer let out a familiar noise of frustration. Good. Alastor enjoyed frustrating the king more than being the one to end their arguments in frustration. Until now they were 56 to 42 in favor of the king.
“It's mine because I made it! Now give it back,” he ordered, extending his hand.
“Awww. You did it thinking of me~” Alastor mocked happily, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. Rosie and Mimzy always laughed happily and pushed him around, calling him a scoundrel or a little hussy. Lucifer, like Vox, blushed brightly and seemed to get angrier.
"Of course not!"
“Then he was just lucky enough to come out so handsome. Perhaps a sign of who must be his true owner." Alastor stroked the back of the toy and enjoyed another noise of frustration followed by Lucifer running his hand over his face and taking a deep breath.
“It wasn't supposed to be for you,” Lucifer told him with an evident effort to be neutral.
“Your Majesty, if you just wanted something to remind you of my presence when I'm not around, all you need is to turn on a radio and listen to my beautiful voice,” he assured him, placing a hand theatrically under his throat to frame the most important part of himself.
“Alastor,” Lucifer seemed about to pull his yellow hair that looked like messy feathers, “could you give me back the duckling, please,” he asked with his teeth and clenched fists, ignoring his comments.
“No.”
"No?!" Lucifer dug his claws into the edge of the bathtub.
"No. There is a saying? Finders Keepers. It's mine now."
Lucifer growled in frustration. Alastor saw his muscles tense and braced himself as Lucifer lunged again. His shadow enveloped him and Alastor emerged dripping water, his hand quickly grabbing a towel and his microphone as he emptied Lucifer once again sputtering wet and struggling against the semi-solid limbs of his laughing shadow.
“While this was fun, your Highness, I have business to attend to. Thank you for the gift.”
Lucifer looked at him indignantly, his shadow pushed him away and Alastor disappeared in a black puddle towards Rosie's guest room.
It was a little late for a visit, but Rosie, like him, was barely sleeping and Alastor had a new object to show off. After all, very few could boast of having something handcrafted by the king of hell himself.
Lucifer was miserable. Mocked by a simple sinner (and not for the first time). Not only had he ended the night before wet and frustrated but he was left waiting for Alastor to return and he didn't.
He thought about recreating Radio Duck, but the truth is that he had lost the desire. And Alastor didn't deserve it. Selfish idiot. It was a gift for Charlie! Stupid narcissist.
The next day he made a stack of pancakes long before the others got up and it was with that and a sumptuous decoration that they found out about Charlie's birthday.
“Girl, why didn't you say anything? We have to go out and celebrate tonight!” the tallest cyclops shouted excitedly.
Charlie, who had always enjoyed the holidays but had failed to get along with any of the Goetial children her age, smiled sheepishly.
“I didn't want to bother. Birthdays... I prefer them to be small. Just among family.” She looked around and with tears in her eyes smiled a bright smile. “And I have everything I need here! It's just missing..." Lilith was left in the air. “Alastor!”
What? Lucifer lost his smile and saw the demon enter the kitchen fresh and smiling.
“Wow, it looks like we're celebrating,” he said, pushing one of the decorations with his paw, almost popping the pink apple-shaped balloon.
"Yeah. It's Charlie's birthday, my daughter. Didn't she tell you?” He asked with false sweetness, putting an arm around a tense Charlie's shoulders. “For my part…I have gifts!”
Lucifer pushed a series of small colored boxes. Charlie's eyes brightened and he began to open them.
“Dad, you didn't have to bother.”
The first box, a red one with a black bow, had Charlie Morningduck on it; it was, in Lucifer's opinion, the prettiest of all the ducklings.
“Oh, it's very nice,” Charlie assured him.
“Open the others” he urged her gently. Ignoring everyone else, he only had eyes for his daughter.
Next was the pink one with a fuchsia bow. Duck-Dust fell to the table with a squeal and his counterpart gave a surprised laugh.
"It's me?" he shouted in surprise and Lucifer hummed his agreement smiling at Charlie's starry eyes as he hurried through the boxes cooing at each one.
“Oh, dad, they are beautiful. Did you make them yourself?”
“That's right, love,” he said, pinching her cheek. “And some do more than just scream,” he said with a wink.
Charlie excitedly grabbed Maggie the Duck and squeezed causing a soft glow with slightly heavenly lighting to emit from the little toy.
“It's beautiful,” Charlie was almost crying when she looked at her girlfriend “Just like you.”
Maggie blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear just as Charlie kissed her cheek.
“I want to see!” exclaimed several voices and launched themselves at the unsuspecting ducks. That sparked a touch of irritation in Lucifer until the compliments started coming.
“Look, it even has my fluff!” the spider gloated.
“Mmm… the wings are quite precise,” the winged cat seemed pleased as he looked at the delicate details of his counterpart. Lucifer instantly perked up. The chimera's wings had been especially complicated.
“Look how it sounds!” exclaimed the smallest cyclops, threatening to leave them all deaf or break the poor duckling with her many squeezes.
“It's not that bad,” the other cyclops approved.
Charlie looked at them all with a smile, her hand stroking the snake demon's duck a little wistfully. “He would have loved it,” she said a little sadly, but Lucifer thought he was the good kind.
Lucifer watched Maggie comfort her before looking away to give them privacy. His eyes then met the tall, red sinner who had a mysterious smile and tapped a leisurely rhythm on the surface of the table, observing everything distantly. Lucifer's smile gained some teeth.
Well, idiot, you deserve it for being a narcissist. He thought viciously. He hoped his victory the night before would taste hollow.
"Dad?"
"Yes, darling?" He looked back at Charlie who was smiling awkwardly.
“I love the gift, I really do…but…”Charlie scratched the back of her neck. “Is there a reason Alastor doesn't have one?” she asked quietly.
Lucifer lost his smile and looked askance at the sinner.
Shit.
That was what Lucifer had wanted to avoid.
“Well, you see…”
“You see, dear Charlie,” Alastor stood up with a flourish and occupied Charlie's side, almost pushing past his daughter's girlfriend to make room for himself. She and Lucifer shared an annoyed look. “That particular duck was slaughtered!” He announced dramatically, attracting everyone's attention.
“Are you serious?” Lucifer stood up. Was he really going to victimize himself?
“I saw your father's work and even I had to admit it was pretty good,” he said, putting a hand to his chest with his eyes downcast and his nose cocked up arrogantly.
"Yes?"
"That's how it is. We even talked a little about it.”
“Did you… talk? like…without arguing?”
“There was maybe a little discussion,” Alastor admitted. “But the king was good enough to let me keep good old Radio Duck as a sign of agreement on our provisional peace,” Alastor patted Charlie's head condescendingly as she was smiling again.
“Neither of us wanted to ruin your birthday and the truth,” He leaned conspiratorially toward Charlie. “I got a little attached to the cute little duck. I hope you don't mind that I asked him for it... or that he gave it to me."
“No, no, no,” Charlie denied emphatically, looking between them. “You two getting along is the best gift I could ask for.”
Charlie burst into tears and Alastor, despite hugging her awkwardly when she threw herself at him, smiled violently at Lucifer. “the best gift” he articulated without making a sound.
Lucifer pushed the chair, but did nothing more than get up. No, he wouldn't be the one to ruin the supposed ceasefire.
“Actually,” Charlie walked away, wiping his face, “That's a great idea. Do any of you want to keep yours too?”
The sinners' faces lit up, softening the burn Alastor had left. Things may not have gone the way Lucifer wanted, but they had gone pretty well.
Charlie at least seemed happy and that was all any parent could ask for.