Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucifer knew he had to figure out a way to beat that guy’s ass. First, he tries to manipulate Charlie, then he tries to completely undermine their relationship! It’s so obvious, and yet just subtle enough that Charlie will give him some plausible deniability. He must think he’s so fucking clever. But this is far from the first time he’s dealt with uppity sinners thinking they’re more important than they actually are. He doesn’t care if what’s-his-face is Charlie’s friend. He is the King and he will not be disrespected. Especially not by some stupid, tall, red-head, forks-for-horns sinner bitch.

That’s why he’s come back to the hotel. He used a lot of magic to completely rebuild the hotel and he was pretty sleepy so he went back to the palace to get some rest. But now that he’d got some shuteye he was ready to kick some sinner ass! And reconnect with his daughter! Also that. He was confident and ready and so he teleported right to the entranceway and slammed open the door! And right at the front desk, on the phone, probably not even doing his job (not that there was anyone in the lobby, but still!) was Alan (if that even was his real name).

He walked up to the front desk, frowning. That damned ginger had his back turned to him, messing with the whiteboard thing behind the desk. He saw Alexi side eye him, so that jerk definitely saw him, but he just turned around and went back to his phone conversation. Then he put a finger up as if to say: wait a moment. The audacity. Maybe he was doing his job cause he sure was taking his time with those papers and that board. Good! He better be treating Charlie’s hotel with respect! But bad! Making the King of Hell wait! Asshole.

He had way too heavy of a coat on his person for being indoors. It was a classic, burgundy, wool long coat, which he can begrudgingly appreciate (he has taste, alright?), but how can he wear that coat with a full 3-piece in this weather? How is he not sweating at all? Sure, Lucifer has a full suit on and he isn’t sweating. But that’s because he can’t sweat! His skin is part porcelain, part scales. But even he takes off his layers when it gets stuffy. This guy must have really bad circulation. Also his coat may be heavy, but it folds strangely in the back under the waist strap, like he has something down the back of his pants. Maybe it's a duck? He imagines, fancifully. Probably a gun, he reasons more realistically. Lots of sinners carry guns, it wasn’t surprising. He doesn’t care— it’s not like they can do anything to him, even that one sinner’s special guns with angelic steel, Camera Coalmine or something, can't do a thing to him.

He’s noticing a lot of things from his view waiting behind a counter that’s almost too tall for him (curse his impractical sense of grandeur for making the front desk but he can’t undo it now).

For example, Aurora’s hair is weirdly stiff. It’s not like a gelled hairstyle. It doesn’t shine that sort of way in the light. It almost moves like clean wool does before you twist it into yarn. Fibrous and too fine and maybe slightly overtreated with hot water and chemicals. Possibly... like a wig?

He recognizes the hair texture from his wife and daughter’s various wig-centric fashion phases. Lilith’s rapunzel era was something else. She would use heated metal to stretch her hair straight to appear much longer than it really was on its own and further twisted “extensions” into her hair to make it even longer still. He didn’t understand all the things humans do in their various cultures, nor did he know much about Alice. But he really doesn’t like that guy and he knows that the best way he could express that right this second would be to snatch that wig.

So, as quietly as possible so as not to alert the man on the phone, he gets on the desk and begins to reach over, when he sees the ear not up to the phone twitch his way and before he can register the “Well, Goodbye now. I’ll see you in a moment,” he hears, the phone is being slammed down and he’s turning around and Lucifer is leaning back as quick as he can and “Oh shIT!” falling off the front desk and onto his ass.

Except he doesn’t because he felt himself being caught. He looks to see shadowy limbs holding onto him only to actually be dropped onto his ass this time. He looks up to see that tall red motherfucker leaning over the desk with his head held in one hand. He’s looking down at him and the other hand rests on… Is that his damn hat up there?

“Apologies for the wait, your majesty. What can I do for you?”

Lucifer hopped quickly to his feet leaning up on the desk as best he could so as to get in the other’s face and snatching his hat back to himself. He cleared his throat and tried to look natural, like he hadn’t just fallen from a desk five feet off the ground. “Yes, well…. What could possibly be so important that you’d keep your king waiting anyway?”

“Your daughter is just so excited to finally have working phones throughout the hotel, so she’s having us test the connections between each room. I must admit I am glad as well. This will make this whole ordeal easier to manage. Now, was there something you needed?”

“Yes. Where is Charlie anyway?”

“She’s on the 6th floor in the conference room at the moment.”

“Great!” Lucifer turned to the elevator.

“But she’ll be on her way down here very soon. ”

“Why wouldn’t you lead with that?”

“Well, I assumed you would’ve known. Were you not listening to our conversation on the phone?”

“No. I don’t eavesdrop.”

“Then you have more decorum than I thought.”

“Sure. How long will this take?”

“I don’t know. However long our princess needs. Be patient.”

They stood around in silence, except for the static buzzing of a radio. But Lucifer was getting bored, so, “Is your hair real?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like…. Is it a wig?”

“No.” The word was said with an inordinate amount of disdain.

Petty, Lucifer quietly spoke, "It's an ugly wig."

“Dad! I didn’t know you were here?

Charlie was so ready for this meeting. She was so ready for this hotel! She had a clean, perfect hotel (Thanks Dad!), and a functional staff! (Thanks Alastor!). She has working phones in every room. And so many rooms for activities! She’s going to ask dad to make the empty subfloor into a poolroom, and her sweet lover had talked about wanting a gym. It was such a good gift idea! And it wouldn’t just benefit Vaggie. It would benefit anyone who had excess energy. She thought it would especially help Niffty.

Niffty had been such a big help in the old, decrepit hotel, that Charlie only took over because it was an unused, unmissed property and she thought she alone could fix it up. She couldn’t. But with everyone’s love and support, she has a brand spanking new hotel! She is so happy everyone has a much more comfortable home. Including herself, even if she’d rather have done it all on her own. Without Lucifer’s help. But she’s still glad he’s in her life, being supportive. Even though she’s… disappointed that he was right about heaven. But enough of that! She’s here with her friends and her girlfriend and her dad! She’s in a great place! Besides expanding and adding on and the usual advertisements, there were really no problems. No repairs or danger zones needing to be blocked off. And nothing horribly dirty and in disrepair. This fact, in itself, was actually their biggest problem right now.

See, with nothing to clean up and no infestation to kill in a magically new building, Niffty was going a little stir-crazy. Charlie’s pretty sure that’s why she’s spending so much time with Alastor. She usually spends her time running around, manically looking for messes and pests, but with none to be found, she was consumed entirely by what chores she could do. And what counted as a chore to her was quickly becoming more convoluted.

Charlie thought she was a lot before, but she has a funny feeling she’s barely glimpsed the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Niffty’s capabilities. She used to dust and stain treat and wipe and repaint and repair electrical, plumbing, the floors, the windows, the walls. She was given an entire abandoned, eclectic, derelict building with 13 floors and somehow made it a liveable hotel when Charlie was ready to throw in the towel! How did she not realize before how impressive that was? She had magic, she was the Princess of Hell, and she could hardly do anything to improve the place! And besides the fact that there are no giant projects for her to take on, she’s pretty sure her dad charmed the hotel to not need things like vacuuming and dusting. Niffty’s in charge of meals and laundry and of course she cleans up the occasional accident, but given the fact that even when people from Cannibal town spend the night, they only have maybe a dozen people in the hotel to housekeep for at any given time since the new hotel was built.

She is glad to learn more about her small friend as she searches for things to occupy her time, but terrified as well. Sure, she saw her “collections” of puppets and theater scripts. It reminded her a little of her dad showing off his ducks and things. But it was a little creepy to see a puppet made of bugs. Or dolls made from her hair. Should she be more concerned about that last one? Anyway, Nifty had very unique and somewhat childish hobbies. From tea parties to making doll houses. Also, Alastor was incredibly invested in her hobbies. Like way more invested than she could have ever expected, hence why Niffty spent so much more time with him now.

Speaking of Alastor, he and Charlie just tested all the phone lines and now she was meant to meet him in the lobby. She was bouncing on her toes in excitement at all the progress being made. And then when the elevator doors opened, she was faced with the sight of her father at the front desk. Alastor was looking very offended towards him (she wondered why but she figured she could ask later) but both men lit up at her greeting. She and her father hugged and were just starting to do that thing where they talk very fast and high-pitched at each other, but Alastor cleared his throat.

“Did you need me to do anything else for the hotel today, princess.”

“Oh! Uh… I don’t think so? Are you going to cook dinner later?”

“I plan to, yes. But, I have a meeting with the other overlords regarding the battle. And then I have a lunch date. These things tend to take a while, so I may be back a bit late. If anyone is positively famished before I return, there are still leftovers from breakfast.”

“Sounds great! Have fun! And make sure to advocate for the Hazbin Hotel!”

“Of course,” he moved to leave and made it a few steps before remembering something, “One more thing! Would you please keep an eye on our lovely maid? I don’t want her to get into too much trouble today while she has nothing to do.”

“You, got it, Al!”

“Au revoir, darling.”

“Byyyyyyyyyeeeeeee!” Charlie turned back to her father, “Sorry. Just… hotel stuff. It’s been a bit, dad! How are you? What brings you here?”

“I’ve been good, Char-char! I wanna take you to lunch with me. You aren’t busy, right?”

“No…um… I should really watch Niffty, though…”

“What, the maid? She’s an adult, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Plus she’s got the other residents around, too.”

“I guess that’s true. I’ll text Vaggie. Let’s go to lunch then. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Spoiler alert: It was not fine.

Charlie knew she lived in hell, but this most recent incident had her questioning if she ever really understood human suffering. Either they suffer way more or way less then she thought, but anyway. Let’s start at the beginning. Niffty: The center of the incident.

She had been cleaning very diligently in the lobby. Or she had been trying. There wasn’t much to clean since Dad put all those Keep Clean spells around the hotel. She was really grateful for his help. And it was definitely a good idea on paper, but in practice maybe not needing Niffty to clean all the time is doing more harm than good, to say the least. She had a number of supplies in her four arms, but she was just running around the parlor, looking for any dirty spot. She had been doing this all over the hotel since they finished breakfast.

Alastor had left on “overlord business”, Angel had gone to work, and Husk was occupied at the bar. Charlie and her dad just got back from lunch, which was great, awesome father-daughter bonding, but now Charlie and Vaggie were doing their absolute best to keep the maid calm or give her something to do as she was visibly going stir-crazy. Their best was not great; Vaggie was apparently struggling with the maid the entire time they were at lunch. Dad sat primly on a couch, hands crossed on his lap and observing with a slight grimace. “Niffty, why don’t we do something besides cleaning. We could all do something fun!”

“But it’s my job! And I have to clean something! I just have to clean!”

Vaggie tried to reassure, “You just cleaned the kitchen and dining room after breakfast. You could do something else. Take a break.”

“Great idea, honey!” Charlie supported, “Why don’t we do some coloring or…. Well, what do you like to do? You have that little backpack, what else do you have in there?”

Little did Charlie know she would live the rest of her life regretting asking that question.

“Backpack?”

The little maid turned around, attempting to see her own back. She reached her hand around to touch the shiny yellow and black mound on her back, but froze once she made contact. Then she reached to her head, feeling her two long antennae. “Oh this will not work. It’s back. I need to….”

Then the fiery haired little demon gripped her antennae, at the same time letting her cleaning supplies fall from her arms. Just then, her “backpack” opened like a beetle shell (for that’s what it was) and revealed two shiny black and yellow-striped wings on top and underneath them, two more shimmering, glittering, golden, translucent wings with intricate patterns within them.

“Oh! You have wings! They’re so pretty!” Said Lucifer, “And four of ‘em, too! Look at that!”

Niffty stared blankly at him before, with a screech and a snap, ripping off both her antennae. Lucifer exclaimed in surprise, “Woah! Don’t do that!”

Niffty just started giggling. Then she reached around to her top left wing and with a horrible ripping sound and a shrieking, hysterical laugh, tore it right off. All who were present gasped in horror. Vaggie tried to grab her before it could happen again, but she fluttered right over her head like the unbalanced bug she was. She landed behind Charlie’s paramore and ripped off the bottom right wing then. Charlie ran to try and scoop her up, but her quick legs carried her swiftly to the other side of the room. She ripped off the remaining black wing while Charlie tried to reach her. All the while, giggling hysterically, screaming briefly when she tore off a wing. Everyone’s panicked shouts eventually drew in their bartender, who came in with some kind of brown bottle in one hand. As Niffty began to literally climb the walls to escape her pursuers (and unfortunately keep tearing off pieces of her body), the cat inquired, “Why the fuck is everyone screaming?”

The beetle demon was on the ceiling now, near the chandelier. Lucifer and Vaggie had brought out their own wings to reach her, to keep her from hurting herself more. Husk walked next to the princess who was looking up, biting her nails, tears streaming down her face. The magician looked at the wings and antennae discarded on the ground. “I guess she’s having another episode. Niffty! Stop it! You’re scaring the princess!”

From where she hung, carefully hidden between the crystals of the chandelier now, she yelled back, “I’m almost done! And you don't get to tell me what to do, Husker!”

“Well, I tried.” He said, sighing and dragging the princess to the couch where Lucifer sat before.

With one final rip and grunt, followed by maniacal laughing, a beautiful gold wing fluttered down from the chandelier. Then Niffty followed after it, jumping from the hanging crystal. She would have hit her head on the floor if Charlie's father hadn’t caught her before she could. Vaggie landed next to them, frowning deeply. Charlie rushed to the de-winged demon, kneeling before her father and her maid, who was still held in his arms. Sobbing, she said, “Why? Why, Niffty? Why would you do that?”

The girl just giggled, “I needed something to clean. And I don’t like them anyway. I had to.”

Lucifer turned the demon in his arms to look at her face. She was smiling, but her makeup was streaked around her face. Tears came from her large eye like a leaky faucet, and also her cheeks. He thought before the circles were simply marks like a doll’s blush. They were certainly red enough, but looking closer, he realized that the squinting, blinking, crying orbs were in fact a set of eyes. “Child, why would you do that?”

“I just said: to clean it up. And I like pain. Why did you catch me anyway, Mr. Bad Boy? I wanted to hit the ground.”

All the king could do was sigh defeatedly and set her down. Niffty scurried away and picked up the broken pieces of herself. It was like nothing unusual happened in her mind. Vaggie glared at Husk, who still slouched on the couch, drinking from the bottle. “You’ve seen her do this before, right? What was that?”

The cat didn’t even raise his head to meet her eyes, “I don’t know. She just does it. She says she likes pain and I’ve never been able to stop her. If you hate it that much, talk to Alastor about it. He can probably do something to help.”

Charlie, still sniffling slightly, questioned that, “How could Alastor help? What’ll he do? I want to help, too.”

“I don’t know what he’ll say specifically, but Niffty’ll listen to him. They just understand each other. They’ll figure it out. They did before, for a while. I don’t know when or why she started doing this again. It’s not just “to have something to clean” though. Niffty would never make a mess just for the sake of cleaning it up.”

“So we get Alastor to talk to her and then what?” Vaggie asked, “We just forget about it and move on?”

“Pretty much.”

Lucifer looked lost, leaning against the couch arm and holding his face in his hands. “That was truly horrific. I don’t know if I can move on from that. I mean, ripping off your wings one by one…. And her little head things, too..” .

“Oh, did she rip off her antennae? I thought she might keep those; they’ve been grown back for a while now. The wings will take longer, though. Look, princess, if you want to help, I’ll tell you what you can do.”

“What? I’ll do anything.”

“Well, she doesn't know what she did was wrong right now. So why don’t you put her in a timeout or something, so she knows it’s not good.”

“Huh. I… guess I can do that. I don’t want to be mean, though.”

“Then don’t be. But right now, you’re her boss. You need to tell her what’s appropriate.” He slurred the last word a bit, but moved on well enough.

“Ok. I’ll put her in timeout.”

Niffty had just come back, presumably from throwing away her own body parts like trash. She looked up at the four figures that stood around the couch, “Is something going on?” she asked.

Charlie looked at her and squeezed her lover’s hand once for support, “Niffty, you can’t do stuff like that. It’s not good. We don’t want you to hurt yourself. Or hurt you ourselves. But I think that after that, you might need a bit of punishment. Just so you know what you did was wrong.”

The tiny demon looked up with fearful, tearful eyes. “Is it because I kept yelling? I’ll be quiet next time! I promise!”

“No. Niffty. I don’t want you to tear off parts of your body. I want you to go wait in the meeting room. Don’t leave until Alastor gets back. Ok?”

She sobbed as she ran all the way to the elevator, just as Angel was coming in the lobby from outside. “Woah! What happened to her?”

Charlie let out a heavy breath. “Husk, why don’t you tell him about it. And watch the lobby. Sweetheart, Dad, will you both come with me upstairs? I want to talk to you about that whole situation in private. And then maybe we can continue to discuss hotel plans.”

“But the conference room is occupied, hon.”

“We’ll talk in the dining hall. To give her some space. We have those chairs stacked.”

So, they went to the dining hall to talk.

When Alastor returned from the most recent post-battle overlord meeting, he was in a better mood than he thought he’d be considering the circumstances. As usual, Vox had tried to defame him, but it turned out that most of the other overlords weren’t interested in the television’s “wild accusations.” He may have lost one fight, but the power he displayed was still immense. He had changed the course of Hell’s history once again. Or, rather, the princess had and he’d been right there next to her. If anything, he gained more respect than he had had for placing himself so close to the royal family. Of course, his bad mood soured once he returned. Husk met him in the lobby, explaining that Niffty had some kind of “episode.”

Not that he would ever say it, but Alastor truly had a lot more… emotions than he let on. He imagines that, to those that don’t know him personally, his thoughts must be a constant stream of barely restrained violent impulses and sadistic plans. And while that isn’t exactly an incorrect assessment, and while he does have vulgar, bloody thoughts much of the day, most of the time he doesn’t actively choose to have those thoughts! Pursue them— yes, on occasion. But he isn’t (and this is the part that pains him to admit) consciously planting the seed that leads to these long bloody spirals. Like a weed, he can try his best not to cultivate it, but it will grow anyway. He can pluck it and discard it, but more will spring up in its place. Or he can choose to find a use for these unbidden, monstrous plans that occupy his mind. He is a violent, sadomasochist and a certified psycho-sociopath or whatever the proper term is, but he never really chose to be that way.

Well, he supposes, he did choose to do the things he’s done. That was very much his own will. Especially in his later life. But in the beginning, it hadn’t been much of a choice, now had it? It was him or them. A situation of kill or be killed. Could you really blame his young self for prioritizing the continuation of the better? And besides, just because he didn’t revel in it then doesn’t mean he hasn’t learned to since. An impossible choice at the start didn’t mean he wasn’t always destined to be a killer. He enjoys pain and blood, not just for the plain joy of the sensations, the music, the redness, but because those things and all that come with them are also familiar. Nostalgic, even. Maybe as nostalgic as something like cooking or sewing or hunting or gardening. Although that could be because in many ways, both these activities all involve blood in some way or another.

Years ago, he came to a realization. All these activities are services in some way. In the same way his radio or any other performance of his are public services. And of course he served his tour during the Great War. (Not as great as the war that arrived after he died; he hates how much he missed) In a way, he even considered his domestic killing a service to the people. After all, he was just killing off the pigs and pests of the human race. He wasn’t selfish. That’s where truly channeling all those uncontrolled, violent impulses came in in his life. He thinks at least part of the reason he prefers serviceable acts is because he doesn’t like to do meaningless things. Even if the things he does only serve himself, he likes that something productive is happening. Maybe it’s the Depression in him. A need for production. Ha. But he also needs to be of service for the same reason he holds tight onto all the things he valued in his life. It’s nostalgic. The strongest feeling in his old heart.

That’s why he keeps Niffty so close to him all the time. Nostalgia and a need to make up for all the times he abandoned her before. His failed service. He hates to think of himself as having made mistakes and he positively refuses to ever feel guilt, but the way he’s treated his piti pimenté is one act he’ll never forgive himself for, not that he'll admit it.

All this is to say: he loves devoutly and bloodily. And no matter how much he wishes he could, he cannot control his thoughts and feelings. And when it comes to Niffty, he has a tendency to fear the worst.

For as long as Alastor knew her, Niffty always had to be doing a dozen things at once, which is both charming and entertaining to observe, but frustratingly hard to provide for. She needed constant entertainment, moreso even than him (although she clearly inherited it from him). Niffty has always been someone who needs a gentler hand and more care than others. He tries his best to spend time with her in both of their daily duties in the hotel, but he still has overlord business to attend to. He can’t be with her besides a few select times in the day, like the late night or early morning during dinner and breakfast. He loves to enjoy their common interests together. But the point stands: there is so much time she spends by herself.

He thought the hotel was a boon for him when it came to taking care of her. People are there to look after her all the time, even when he isn’t, and she had so much to do in such a large, decrepit building. But once the hotel was destroyed and that foolish “king” came in and strong-armed everything they had previously cultivated, his little bug was left with nothing to do. He purposefully chooses not to use spells that maintain cleanliness, so Niffty can have the opportunity to do as much as possible. But Lucifer has no such qualms. And unfortunately Alastor is not powerful enough currently (or even when he’s in peak condition) to undo them. Now, she hasn’t much to do at all. A normal maid, or even multiple, would surely be occupied all day with the upkeep of an entire hotel, but with how fast she moves (and the spells, once again), even when every room is occupied for a night, it only keeps her busy for a few hours at most. At the old hotel, they had the added benefit of a building falling apart and needing constant repair. No longer.

He thought, at first, that with more time to enjoy her artistically inclined hobbies might be good for her. But she’s even more stuck in her head now than she ever was. Maybe that’s why she’s done what she has. Once she gets a thought in her head, it’s hard for her to avoid enacting it. Whether it be helpful or harmful. No impulse control in that one. He most certainly can understand it.

He himself understands the joy that can come from pain, including his own. Especially when it’s done in a way that makes one feel more in control of an out of control situation. So, even though he is an incredibly unempathetic person, in this he relates to his spawn. But it doesn't make it any less horrible to witness. He really should have done more to curb this inclination when he had the chance, but he was preoccupied with other things. He thought they were more important at the time. That if he prioritized them he’d have more time for her after they were done. But now he most certainly feels he had made a mistake. The same one he did in life, if you can believe it. Faced with the most precious thing in his life having once again broken off the most beautiful parts of herself… it tightens some bolt on his old radio heart.

He enters the meeting room and finds it empty. Almost. He knows his girl and she would never be so disobedient as to leave when someone in charge told her to stay. So, he does whats natural and looks underneath the furniture.

He finds her under a side table decorated with a vase full of charred flowers. She sits there, fiery hair a mess, head hanging down so he can’t even see that charming bleached streak she gave herself, much less her face. He decides the best course of action is to play the fool and have her admit her feelings about the situation on her own. So he gets on one knee to better see her and takes her hand to lead her to sit in an overly large chair, legs dangling like little strings under her baggy skirt and apron, she kicks her distinctive yellow booties onto the floor in upset. Her gloved hands have a tight grip on her sleeves. He does his best to look her in the eye, but she keeps turning her head to avoid his gaze. “Darling, why do you look so guilty? Have you done something wrong?”

She says nothing but whines long and frustrated. He waits for a minute, knowing she can’t lie to him for too long. And then all at once, it comes out, “I know you said I need to stop! But I just like pain so much!”

“That’s not the real reason, is it?”

“I… they make me feel like a child again. I don’t like being looked at like a child! People always made fun of me for it. And also I do like the pain. And… I forgot what you asked for a bit.”

“I know you forget sometimes, but I’ve told you very often. I don’t mind telling you again, if you need.”

“No. I know. I shouldn’t just rip off such a valuable piece of myself. Flight is an incredible advantage.”

“That’s all true, yes. And I wonder at what it says that you remember all that and continue to do it. But, mostly, I don’t like to see you hurt yourself. There is enough suffering being in Hell. You do not need to cause yourself more. You are perfectly innocent; you don’t need it.”

“But what if I do need it?”

“Why would you? Did you do something bad?”

“I am in Hell.”

“Recently, smart alec.”

“I… haven’t been cleaning much.”

“And yet, the hotel is at peak cleanliness. And you’ve been cooking with me every day. You have not foregone your duties at all.”

“I’ve been playing more.”

“What is wrong with that? You play because you have no work. And I, for one, am very happy to experience your creations. I love your puppets! And your writing. I like how you’ve been doing more things that you find fun besides cleaning.”

“I like cleaning! And I can’t do it like I used to anymore. Nothing stays dirty. And there’s nothing broken. Everything here is so perfect all the time and I hate it!”

“How about we make a deal? I believe I can provide a solution to your problems, if you want to work with me here.”

“What is it?”

“If you agree to let yourself heal and to not harm yourself anymore, I will find you something new to clean and occupy your time. Thoughts?”

“I will agree if you also rest and allow yourself to heal. And I want to reenact the clause about hair.”

Alastor was taken by surprise here. He knew she could be cunning, but it was not often she displayed it. “Well, I would be amicable to those terms, but I feel this deal would be a bit one sided if I did agree. How about we add one more stipulation pou mwen?”

“Then… I’ll make you lunch personally every day.”

“You already make two meals a day with me, dear. And I am quite fine with providing that meal for myself as it is. I want you to make one thing per week for me as a gift. Be it a story or a doll or any other thing. It’s up to you. But I want one handmade, tasteful gift a week, and for you to both let yourself heal and promise to commit no further self-mutilation. In exchange, I will find you something else to clean, allow myself to heal, and reenact the hair clause. Just for you. Sounds like a deal?”

“Deal.” They shook hands and there was a familiar swirl of green, swampish shadow mingling with flickering candlelight and twinkling fireflies, as was the case with all of their deals. It was certainly noticeable to other residents, but not quite so dramatic as his deal with the princess. However, the other residents apparently didn’t think it was as simply routine as it actually was, because just then seemingly every member of staff and residence burst into the conference room they had chosen to use for their discussion. Vaggie, Angel, the princess and the king. Husker trailed some distance behind.

Vagatha pointed her spear at his chest (causing Niffty to let out a growl, although it seemed only Alastor and Husk noticed), “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing I haven’t done before. Although, your concern for her safety is certainly sweet.”

“Alastor,” Charlie whined in disappointment and gestured wildly as she said, “Did you really take advantage of her while she’s…. y'know?”

“I most certainly have not. If anything, she’s getting more from this deal than I am. We have an extensive contract, Charlie. It’s not unusual for us to make updates to it. And you all will do well not to underestimate her. I thought how she handled Adam proved that much. She’s far more powerful than you all seem to think.”

“But did your new deal solve the problem at hand?” Asked the king, “Because that whole disturbing incident better not have a repeat.”

“I would thank you for being kinder when referring to my ward, your majesty.” The deer demon said, shadows and antlers growing longer in his annoyance at the king’s insensitivity. “And as long as neither of us violate our contract, no. It will not happen again.”

“....Ok. Didn’t think you would care so much… yeesh.” Lucifer replied nonchalantly.

Alastor glared at them but then stood up from where he had crouched on the floor, brushing off his pants, “Come along, Niffty gal. We need to start on dinner.”

The other residents watched as he held out his arm to allow her to crawl up onto his shoulder. As they walked out the door and into the hallway, they heard an echo of, “I’m thinking of some kind of etouffee and cilantro-lime rice. Thoughts?”

“Wow.” Charlie spoke in wonder.

Mouth watering, Angel replied, “I know right? I’m excited about dinner, too.”

“No! Not that. I mean, I’m sure dinner will be great, but he just handled that so well. I didn’t expect it!”

“I told you,” Husk began, “Alastor and Niffty have always been on the same frequency. He almost always knows what to do when it comes to Niffty.”

“They must be very close.”

“They’re… closer than you probably think. They've known each other for about a century. Longer than he’s known Rosie. Not as long as he’s known me. But I hate him so…. Not comparable, I guess. If anyone wants a drink with their dinner, I’ll be at the bar.”

Chapter Text

Alastor knocked on Niffty’s bedroom door bright and early the next morning. She opened the door immediately, already dressed, as usual. “Bonjour, 'zanmi! I wanted to ask if you would like to come to tea with Rosie and I after breakfast?”

“Sure! Can we make muffins?”

“I don’t see why not. Although, we should have as many options as possible. Sweet and savory, no? Let’s walk to the kitchen.”

Once in the kitchen with his dutiful sous chef, Alastor felt completely in his element. They took out ingredients for baking muffins and then laid out all of the possible muffin ingredients they had available. All types of berries, apples, bananas, oranges, and mango. They also brought out vegetables: squashes, onions and zucchini. Herbs, spices, cheeses and meats. They were deliberating amongst themselves how to combine each into a type of muffin. Alastor took out the kitchen notebook to record their decisions. So far, he had written: Pumpkin and Chocolate, Zucchini, Cheese and Chives, Strawberry-Banana, Orange Spice.

They had a base muffin mix that they had already created a few mixes from and a few batches were in the oven. So, they were about halfway done, but Al still wanted an option with meat. “How about we add some beef to the zucchini muffins?”

“Is beef really a breakfast food?”

“Technically, anything can be a breakfast food, darling. I just think beef and zucchini go well together. Why don’t you mix up the last of the different batters and I’ll put away what we don’t need?”

“Ok!”

“Why do you make so much when there’s only a few people that live here?” Alastor looked over to the doorway where the king stood, a hand on his hip.

“Just because we only have a handful of permanent residents does not mean there are not a great many people that choose to spend the night at this hotel! They just tend to leave before you drag yourself out of bed.”

Lucifer had a very unimpressed expression on his face as he inquired, “Is coffee ready?”

“You can’t wait until we put breakfast out? Or drink the complementary coffee we put in every room? Or even make your own?” Alastor sighed, “It’s on the cart over there.”

“Thank you. Hey, maid girl? Are you feeling better?” He asked, preparing his cup.

“I’m great! We’re going out after breakfast to find something to clean!”

“Y’know, if the issue is just that you have nothing to clean, I could take away some of the charms I have around the hotel….”

“NO!” Niffty shouted.

The devil jolted at the outburst and spilled a bit of coffee on his white suit. But with a wave of his hand it disappeared. “Uh…ok. Why?”

“I don’t want things to get dirty! I like that everything's clean. I just don’t like that I’m not the one who cleaned it. I get bored if I don’t clean. But I’m gonna clean something else! Outside the hotel.”

“Niffty,” Alastor began, putting the last of the ingredients in their place, “I want to make it as clear as possible to you that we are not going to clean up the streets again. Every time you start sweeping the sidewalk, you wander off and get lost. Remember: the outside is meant to be dirty.”

“I know!” (But I don’t like it) went unsaid. She stirred faster and moved to pour batter into tins.

Lucifer took a slurping sip of his coffee, causing Alastor to look at him in disgust, “Y’know, you guys kinda got a father-daughter dynamic going on.”

“Oh, really? What a profoundly insightful statement.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Take the coffee cart to the dining room please.”

“Why should I? I’m the King!”

“I have so graciously allowed you to have coffee early, your Majesty. Make yourself useful.”

“Wow. Ok. Fine.” So the King took the coffee cart to the dining room.

After breakfast, which was highly praised, and there were enough left over to take to Rosie. Alastor announced that he and Niffty were going out for the day and they would be back in time to make dinner.

Only a few blocks from the hotel, with a box of muffins under the other arm, Alastor picked up the girl to keep her from scurrying off as she was momentarily distracted by a bug. When she settled on his shoulder, she asked him, “Why are we walking instead of shadow traveling?”

“Well, a nice walk can do wonders for a restless mind. And,” he whispered, “between you and I, teleporting puts quite a lot of strain on my injury.”

“Oh! Well, I’m glad you’re holding up your end of the deal by taking care of yourself.”

“I am also holding up my end by discussing with Rosie what to do about your ennui.”

“I should probably work to do my part then, huh?”

“Yes, I was surprised you didn’t invoke the Hair Clause this morning.”

“Oh yeah! I forgot. Can we do it at Rosie’s?”

“You’ll have to ask her but I’m sure she won’t object.”

When they did arrive at Rosie’s it was with open arms. She gave Al a quick hug (only slightly hindered by the muffins) then bundled Niffty up in her arms, crying, “It’s been far too long, my little spitfire! How’ve you been?”

“I’m ok! Well kinda. Not really.”

“That’s actually why we’re here.” Alastor explained.

“Well, in that case— Mia, run the front! Let’s go for tea in the back garden and discuss whatever is making my little candle burn low.”

“What a lovely idea!”

Very soon they were situated in the gazebo in Rosie’s personal garden. Tea was being taken to them from the cafe next door as Rosie was quite well acquainted with the woman who owned it. Muffins were laid on a decorative plate. Niffty sat on a stack of pillows to reach the table. She was just going to stand on the seat like she did at the hotel, but Rosie admonished her for it.

“No, no, “ she said, “You should take your tea seated. And in a chair, not on the tabletop. Alastor, have you thought about getting her a booster seat?”

“She has one. At the cabin. And I’ve offered her one at the hotel; she won’t take it.”

Niffty harrumphed, leaning back on her pillows, “Booster seats are for babies. I’m not a baby. I’m a big girl! Oh! Rosie, Alastor and I re-invoked the hair part of our contract! Do you wanna help me do his hair when we’re done?”

Rosie’s eyes widened (Well, technically only the lids around the empty sockets widened, but anyway), “Of course I would love to, but why did you edit your contract in the first place.”

“That’s why we’re here, darling. Niffty, may I discuss what happened or do you want to speak on it yourself.” Alastor continued when the little demon gestured to him, “Well, our dear has been under a great deal of stress lately. After the hotel was rebuilt anew by our king, she has been left with nothing to tidy or fix. Even with her hobbies, I believe she’s quite bored. Apparently so much so that she tore off her wings and antennae in the middle of the lobby!”

“Oh, goodness! Honey, you really aren’t doing well.”

“No she is not. We’ve come to ask for your help. If there’s anyone in Cannibal Town that needs help with house cleaning, she could take up the responsibility on top of her hotel duties. I’m sure it would help to keep her entertained.”

“Of course! I don’t want the girl going mad with nothing to do. I know how you are when you’re bored, Alastor.”

“Firstly, we’re all mad here. Second, I agree completely. We both do tend to get out of hand when we’re bored. So, shall we discuss logistics?”

“Well, there’s a few people I know in town who could definitely use some help keeping clean, but I’d feel bad about just letting her do all this for free.”

“I’d feel the same way. Besides, I’ve had enough charity with the princess. I suppose if we plan to charge people for her services, we’ll need some sort of proprietary name for people to direct their money to. There’ll surely be a lot of cleaning to be done and we need consistent price rates or every job will be a negotiation.”

“Fair enough. Well, I think I can handle setting up the paperwork for that. But what about contact? I could call you, if you plan on transporting her every time.”

“That might not be very convenient, actually….”

“Yeah!” Nifty interrupted, “He can’t even portal right now.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“It puts a lot of strain on my body. I have not been quite the same since the battle.”

“You were injured?”

“Just slightly. Mostly, I overused my magic. But it’s not convenient to be her only transport and contact when I have the hotel, the station, and other business to do through the day.”

“Well, I’m willing to transport her myself for now. But I’ll need to contact her. Maybe you could let her have a mobile phone?”

“No. I don’t want her to have any kind of device with a camera in it. ”

“Alastor. You are the one who suggested this.”

“I’ll think about it. But we have phones at the hotel now, so you could just ring that line.”

“I guess that’s all I can ask. I’ll work on the paperwork to get her set up, contact you about pricing, and find some clients. Then we’ll discuss transport. But I have no issue sending a chauffeur if need be.”

“Thank you very much. Of course the service will reap its own reward in the form of a cleaner town. But, you are still doing a lot for us here. Would you like anything from me in return?”

“Only for you to bring this little miss along to tea more often! I’ve missed both of you dearly.”

“Of course. I’ve missed you, too.”

“I missed you, too, Auntie!” Niffty shouted.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Rosie began, “I want in on this hair venture. And I want to offer more input on your daily dress.”

“Is there something so wrong with my hair and the way I dress that you both want to change it? Not that I care how I look physically— radio is an audio medium afterall.” He redirected. But he was a bit insulted at the idea of changing anything looks wise when he hadn’t tried to in decades.

“Now, now, we know that’s not true. Of course you care how you look. And there’s nothing wrong with the way you dress or look now— your makeup is lovely by the way— we just want you to look even better. A second or third opinion can do wonders, Al. And! Won’t it be nice to allow someone else to worry about your hair or clothes?”

“So, you want control of my clothing choices? How often exactly?”

“I just want you to come to my tailor whenever she gets her first job, and then we can get you some new clothes. I’m sure everything you have is decades old now. Just a little favor for all this work.”

“I suppose that’s alright. Well, we should head back to the hotel…”

“Don’t think we forgot about that clause!t; We’re doing your hair before you leave; you’re not getting out of it. Would you like extensions? I think that may look good. And maybe we can finally get rid of the last of that black. I don’t know why you ever tried to dye it; it’s such a beautiful color as it is.”

“I was going through a creative block. And, for the record, I like it. I suppose it’s up to you what ya’ll do. I’m sure you can’t make it too much worse.”

“Lovely! Niffty, honey, you watch him. I’ll go get my tools.”

As soon as she was out of sight, Alastor obtained an armful of little bug demon in an instant. “Thank you so much for all of this! It’s so good to see Aunt Rosie again!”

“Of course. Remember to give her a thank you and a hug before we leave.”

“I won’t forget. But if I do, remind me?”

“Of course.”

When Rosie returned with a large box of implements meant to do hair in one arm (they looked more like what he would use to torture screams out of people on his broadcasts), and a hose in the other, he could only gulp and pretend to be unbothered.

They started off the hair treatment session by simply discussing logistics. Nifty was completely in charge, but she wanted to make sure Alastor was happy by the end of it. She stands on the table, this time to no protest, and looks at Alastor, scrutinising. “I need it to be curlier and longer. And I want you to not be bald in the back.”

Alastor looked taken aback by the judgement, “I’m not bald! It’s called an undercut, darling. And it keeps me from getting too hot.”

“You’re wearing a wool longcoat in Hell right now. You don’t need help staying cool when you are actively colder than a corpse. Your skin feels like swamp water.”

Alastor was speechless. Rosie was laughing so hard she dropped the hose on the ground and banged her hand on the table. “Hahaha, the girl has spoken, Al. Tell us more Niffty.”

“Hmm… he uses so much relaxer,” Nifty put her chin in her two left hands, her two right on her hip, and closed her big eye in thought. “We could try a perm with extensions, but I think it’d be better to cut it all off and regrow it with a potion, so it’s natural. Then we can style it and dye the ears and ends black again. But I want more of a gradient this time instead of just a straight cut in the color. ‘Cause right now, it looks like you were dipped in ink and used as a paintbrush.”

Rosie was fully sitting on the ground next to the table now, unable to speak as she shook the gazebo with raucous laughter. Alastor spoke in a warning tone, “Niffty…”

“Sorry, I didn’t think of it earlier, But you do have hair growth potion, right, Auntie?”

Composing herself enough to stand up, but still racked with giggles, Rosie replied, “I can run across the street and grab some more things. Black dye, hair-growth, and ha, shaving cream. I’ll be right back.”

“WAIT! I wanna come this time. Please, can I?” Niffty pleaded.

“And leave your poor father all alone? Well, I don’t mind…”

“You can go Niffty, I'll entertain myself here.”

“Yay!” The girl exclaimed, jumping from the table to Rosie’s shoulder. So they walked out of the garden, Rosie still snickering. “Was it really that funny?”

“Sweetie, you could be a comedian. How long have you been holding onto this plan exactly? It must’ve been years since he last invoked the Hair Clause.”

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve thought about it. But everytime he does anything to it on his own, I feel like he makes it worse.”

“Hahahaha… Oh, you are a riot today! Is there a reason you wanted to come with me?” A bell rang as they entered the shop: Apothecary and Accoutrement. The man at the counter greeted Rosie, asking what she needed.

Quickly, Rosie was provided the necessary supplies and they were back the way they came. Only then, did Niffty explain. “I wanted to ask for something.”

“Oh?”

“If you have any good bones, especially if they’re from exorcists, I’d like to have them. After you guys eat the marrow, of course.”

“Sure, we can give you lots of exorcist bones! You know, I was actually saving Adam’s corpse in the freezer for the last little while. You can have the first pick of his bones. Will you tell me why you need them?”

“Does Alastor know you have Adam’s bones?”

“Well, he knows we have his corpse. He actually requested a few organs already.”

“Aw. It can still be a surprise, I guess. But that isn’t as fun if he knows. I’m going to make something for Alastor, by the way.”

“Hm. I should have guessed.” She said as they rounded the corner to the garden. Then she gasped in offense, “Oh, just help yourself, why don’t you?!”

Alastor was leaning back on one backless bench of many in the gazebo, smoking from a green glass pipe. What he was smoking, and likely what caused the offense, was a large jar of cannabis left open on the floorboards with a metal grinder and comb covered in ash beside it. Rosie marched up to the deer, who smiled hazily, knowing exactly what he had done.

“Y’know Rosie, I wasn’t sure you could keep the garden going so well without me, but I was wrong. It’s even more beautiful now.”

“Oh, for the love of… just… keep it. I’m sure you can pay me back.”

“Oh, thank you, darling! You are so very kind to me.”

“Yes I am. Even when you are a rascally bastard right back. Now, where’s that razor?”

Alastor sat up then. “No clue. I suppose you’ll have to work with what you’ve got.”

“Niffty will just have to burn it off then.”

Suddenly, a clunk from the table sounded as a razor seemingly fell from the ceiling of the gazebo. A shadow sat politely in the seat Alastor had occupied during teatime. “Glad to see that popped up in the end. Now, we can get to business.”

With the help of the cannabis, Alastor was much more agreeable than he would have been otherwise. As it was, he simply relaxed as they cut his hair with scissors, lathered on the shaving cream and… baldened him. They mostly left his ears alone, at least.

“Now for the fun part!” Rosie told Niffty, taking out the regrowth potion. “There’s no instructions. Harold just told me to do what feels right…”

Taking the bottle, Niffty poured the potion straight on Alastor’s scalp and used the lather brush to spread it around. They waited for a few minutes and… nothing happened. “Rosie, are you sure this Harold fellow knows what he’s doing? I will be quite upset if you shaved my head for no reason.”

“Harold is very trustworthy. Don’t worry about him. I’m sure it just takes a second.”

“It has been many seconds.” Alastor had an almost panicked expression on his face and he tilted his head, neck popping. “I don’t want to be bald, Rosie!”

“Stop being a baby and be pa–” Rosie was cut off as a veritable bush of red exploded from Alastor’s head. It was like cutting the lashing lines of a Christmas tree and causing branches to suddenly come crashing down.

Alastor yelped as the sudden excessive weight on his scalp almost dragged him to the ground. Sitting up, he appealed, “I apologize for doubting you, Rosie. And for doubting… Harold.”

“Apology accepted. Now, let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

Niffty was shaking with glee. She was humming in a giggly, buzzing sort of way that the overlords recognized was a barely held back shriek of excitement. “It’s so much! It’s perfect!”

There were multiple feet of hair in blood red little ringlets, only a bit brighter than his maroon coat and it was so long, it pooled on the floor around their feet. Niffty inspected it carefully, as a seamstress inspects thread for breakage.

“How long are you willing to go here?” She questioned as she tilted her head to peek under the veil of hair to look him in the eye.

“Not so long it would impede me in a fight. And not quite as long as the princess or her beau’s either. I wouldn’t want to upstage them.”

“Let’s go for mid-back. Then we’ll see how we feel. Oh! And I like how your hair parts more to the left. We should keep that” The girl snipped away with the scissors as she rambled on. Only stopping to ask for a sharper pair of shears and to move the hair around. At the end she stands back on the bench to inspect her work. “What do you think, Rosie?”

“I think it looks very nice dear. Now how about we get to that dye. I’d actually like to dye my hair black, too. The extermination last year did take my precious seventh husband… I think I’d like to express the grief a bit.”

Alastor looked skeptical at the reasoning. Or, as much as he could while he held his head back for Niffty to wet with the hose. “Is it really about your husband? Or do you just need a change in style as well?”

Rosie guffawed a bit, but took the comment with humility, “What can I say, I look good in black.”

“Yours should be easy, Auntie, since your hair is short.” Niffty jumped in from where she had been preparing the dye on the table.

The bug carefully created a black gradient in Alastor’s, much longer and curlier hair. Rosie took off her hat and brushed her own hair, which Niffty was much less careful with as she spread it through the previously white locks. At the end of it, she looked at her hands. They were already covered in a black, shiny carapace and it was hard to tell which parts had dye on them. “Do you guys think I should dye my hair?”

“Heavens, no!” The other two exclaimed semi-loudly.

Rosie had her hand on her chest, aghast, “Don’t think that you should do what we’re doing just because we’re the ones doing it, honey. Your hair is lovely already.”

“Yes, my dear,“ Alastor added, “As Charlie would say, “don’t give in to peer pressure.” I love your hair! I love the orange hue and the bleached blond part. And you have a much nicer, straighter texture than mine.”

“Your hair being curly is the best part, though! I wish I had curlier hair like yours.”

“Then you can live vicariously through me by tending to it every morning.”
Niffty blushed and sat down on the bench to kick her feet, clad in bright yellow boots. “Thank you.”

“How about you tell us about your last husband while this sets up, Rosie? I don’t believe I ever got to meet him.”

The hotel had a strange mood permeating the air. Those guests who checked in for the night had gone, and only the staff (excluding Niffty and Alastor), Angel Dust, and Lucifer remained.

“What’re you still doing here anyway, short King?” Asked Angel as he chewed on a coffee stirrer.

“Oh, I’m going to be staying here for a while. I want to be here in case Charlie needs anything! For, uh, the hotel, y’know?”

“Alright then.” He said indifferently. Then he went to fiddle with his phone.

There was a bit of an awkward silence until Charlie rushed into the parlor where everyone else was, Vaggie on her heels. “Alright, guys! I have a great idea for an activity!”

“It’s not gonna be more team building exercises, is it?” Angel groaned.

“No… Kinda.” Charlie took a deep breath, “It’s for Niffty, mostly. I want us all to be better able to support her after… The Incident.”

Vaggie elaborated, “We need some sort of protocol if something like that happens again. Any ideas?”

It was silent for a while as everyone thought of what to do. But they couldn’t come up with a thing. Angel interjected, “What’s the issue anyway? Husk said she probably only did it since she’s got nothing to do. As long as she’s occupied, she won’t do nothing.”

Charlie hummed in thought, “Maybe, we could… be a little messier? If that would help her stay occupied.”

“No,” Husk spoke gravely. “Do not make messes on purpose around Niffty. You don't want to know what she’ll do to you.”

“I already asked her if she wants me to remove the spells keeping parts of the hotel clean and she said no.” Lucifer added. Privately, he thought he should add even more. It wasn’t that he wanted the girl to hurt herself, but keeping her and Alastor away from Charlie could only be beneficial.

“Ok… So messier is not the solution to having nothing to clean. What is?”

Husk stood up. “Let. Alastor. Handle. It. She’s his responsibility, not any of ours. I know you guys didn’t like seeing her freak out, but I’m telling you now, don’t try and help her. She won’t let you. Now, I’m going back to the–”

“But she’ll let Alastor? Why?” Charlie questioned, indignant.

“I told you already. Because they’re close. And if she doesn’t do what he says, she’ll be… disciplined. None of you are in the sort of position to do that. So don’t try.”

Charlie was getting upset now, “I’m here to help people! And, failing that, I want her to be happy! I think she deserves it! Why does her being hurt ever need to be a part of that?”

“Well, for one, the girl’s a masochist. I don’t know how you don’t get that Ms. Princess of Hell.”

“HEy! Don’t speak to my daughter like–”

“And two, I didn’t say Alastor will hurt her. I said she needs discipline. She can’t keep her head on straight by herself. Now, I’m going back to the bar.”

As he stomped away, the group was taken once again by awkward silence. This time it was broken by Vaggie, “I think… We should trust Husk and Alastor to know what she needs. They’ve known her longer than we have. But we can help her keep track of things if she needs us to. And we can occupy her in other ways that don’t make a mess.”

“I think that’s a good start, love. We can do more activities she’d actually enjoy. She always leaves during the games we’ve been trying lately. Maybe, we can try a stage play again?”

“No! I don’t want to do any of that dumb D.A.R.E shit ever again!” Angel said, stopping his texting to gesture with his phone.

“Okay… How about a puppet show then? Or we can do more crafts? Is that too messy? I’m really not sure what to do here…”

“Char-Char, I think crafting would be a great way to make everyone happy. Why don’t you think about ideas, and we can do something after dinner?”

“Thanks, Dad. I think that’s a good plan for now. Let’s all just try to support Niffty emotionally and be present if she needs us. Meeting dismissed for today. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

When everyone was leaving, Angel reached out to touch Charlie’s shoulder. “I’m… uh… I actually can’t make it tonight, Charlie. Can you make sure they save me some food?”

“Of course.”

Chapter Text

Niffty felt useful. She felt useful, and therefore, she felt good. For all the ways she was similar to Alastor, in this, she was his opposite. Alastor had told her before that most of his skills were learned as a way to service others, but the truth about him was he hated nothing more than being a servant. Rather, he felt at his best causing mischief and mayhem, whereas Niffty lived to please. She felt the need to serve as much as she despised the unfinished. She saw a chore or task uncompleted, a goal unaccomplished, and she had to rectify it.

It was in her nature to destroy the dirt and pests of the world. It was in Alastor’s as well, but in a different way. One of many reasons why the two of them coexisted so easily.

There were a lot of things about Niffty that generally confused others. She was small, erratic, and emotional. This often led other people to the conclusion that she was a child. Of course, she wasn’t. But even Niffty herself couldn’t always feel confident in saying that. Even when she was a human adult, insisting to her Uncles and Aunties that she could make her own decisions and that she understood what she was getting into, she’d felt like a liar. She’d always been a little silly, a bit behind her peers, always trying to catch up. But for her, it was like chasing a runaway train. And then she lost the tracks entirely, a year or so before her death.

She hadn’t done her Baba’s hair in decades at that point, but now that she’d gotten the chance, she'd leapt at it. She had big plans. As soon as they’d cleaned up dinner, she did a quick once over the hotel (still perfect) and she returned to her room to get right to scheming. Alastor was someone she’d known her whole life. He wasn’t much different in life compared to how he was in death. When it came to his hair, he almost always did his best to keep it as unremarkable as possible. And Niffty’d always hated that. He had beautiful red hair in life. It was a sin he’d always muddied it with black or dark brown dyes. Niffty had assumed it was some sort of grand punishment for that sin that he had even brighter red hair in his afterlife. He still dyed it black for the first few years, though.

But something about the style did evolve with his changed body. His ears were on the top of his head and it compelled him to grow it longer to hide where his human ears had once been. But he kept the rest of it short and what’s worse is that with him choosing to allow his hair to hang down, he for some reason felt the need to wash it with drain cleaner to straighten it out. His hair grows slowly, he said, so he needed the extra length to cover his ears, or lack thereof. And a bit after Niffty arrived in Hell, Rosie must’ve said something to convince him to grow out his roots. Small victories.

Alastor never did much with his hair beyond that. He wanted to appear straight-laced and unnoticeable and once he felt he accomplished that, he had no desire to change the formula that got him there. Enter Niffty.

Adjusting to her new body was difficult to say the least, but the things she always hated most were her antennae and her wings. Everything else, she could tolerate. The extra arms give her a fun new way to multitask. She’s small, but that just helps her fit into harder to reach places. The carapace may have kept her from feeling some types of pain, but it also made her fireproof. She no longer had to wait to clean the fireplace or the stove. Even her stupid glowing belly can light her way in the dark and is easily covered.

But the wings felt ridiculous. Sure she can fly, but she can also climb upside down and on the walls. Why does she need to fly except to reach things to clean? What do they accomplish that she couldn't do without them? And they were fragile, easily damaged. Her Baba once made her a beautiful pair of fairy wings from tulle and wire. For Mardis Gras. She vaguely recalled him dressing as a nun that year. After that, she never took them off, even after he died. And then when she was older, with a whole world to navigate alone, she was forced into reality. Reality ripped off her fairy wings and the butterfly headband that went with it, preaching how she was just asking for attention and to not be such a child when You’re practically grown. Why do you cling to a ratty dress-up toy?

So when she realized her grand punishment was to forever be a parody of the childhood that, once upon a time, she’d have killed to get back, she couldn’t take it. She ripped it away the same way it was ripped away in life. What right does she have to fly, to be free of responsibility when there is work to be done? When she already belongs in Hell?

Yes, to her, the wings were remnants of another life that she had done her best to abandon and nothing more. But then, all of a sudden, she died. And she had her parent back.

Alastor didn’t recognize her at first. She didn’t recognize him either. He was so different. Except he wasn’t, because he had the same face, just different ears. The same uneven walk, just different feet. The same smile, just a bit sharper. A different cane, a different outfit, a different body. But it was still the person who named her, raised her from birth, died for her. They grew close again in hardly any time at all, though it took time for them to adjust to the differences. He was different from her memory, but still so much the same. The part that hurt was what she had become in his absence. She was so ashamed. She wanted to be able to show that she had grown. It never felt like the truth.

They were both confused. They’d forget how much time had passed. To make up for it, Niffty worked herself to the bone. But even then, he babied her. When her wings grew back, he commented on how he remembered making a similar pair from tulle and wire.

That was their first fight after they’d found each other. She screamed how he had abandoned her. How she grew up since then and didn’t need to cling to such childish joys. And right in front of his eyes she tore her wings off and threw them to the ground. Then she’d run away to hide in the forest and gotten distracted trimming trees. Later, he found her asleep, covered in leaves and twigs. But he took her back to the facsimile of their old home and tucked her in to bed.

She had awoken the next morning, thinking she was alive. She thought everything of Hell had been a dream, that she really did escape with her life. She imagined she must’ve run away and fallen asleep in the pews of a church. But when she opened her eyes, the colorful stream of light was not the stained glass of a church, but her own wings, stuck to a high window in the cabin. Her Baba sat beside her, waiting in his armchair for her to wake.

That day, they made their contract. Negotiations lasted the day. It was a complex contract and Alastor felt they both needed some give and take. For all Niffty’s work, Alastor would repay her with all the respect he would afford any other grown woman, deference to her expertise, and more work as she required. They would live together and take at least one meal a day together. He would grant her any wish, any favor in exchange for her safety, for her to let herself heal. But at the time, all she could think of wanting was to do his hair.

It was like that for a few months, until her wings grew back. It was honestly the happiest either had been since dying. When she’d learned to live with herself, they left that specific clause behind and moved on to bigger and better things. Alastor made a new friend who came over more than Rosie ever used to. Niffty got into trouble around the city. Things changed, but they remained together.

Something that never changed though, was Alastor’s hair. Niffty never stopped thinking about all the opportunities she had missed while she was stuck in her sadness and confusion. Alastor never tried anything fun with his hair, but Niffty thought that if they ever brought the Hair Clause out again, she would be trying everything.

She never expected to lose herself again. But she was bored, chronically so. And she had just made it through seven years alone where it didn’t matter if she hurt herself because nobody was there to stop her anymore. And she spent all day with her “friends” treating her like some strange child.

Then she realized that her weakness was visible to everyone and who knows how long it had been that way?! And then they all acted so upset, chasing her, like they had any right over her. So instead of pretending they could tell her what to do, she treated it all like a game. Until she remembered that Alastor wasn’t gone anymore. That she failed to complete the mission he gave her. Until she realized that all she had done was emphasize her weakness and seal her fate of being treated like a child for as long as she was at the hotel.

Niffty was lost again. But again, Alastor found her. So, she leapt at the opportunity given. She recalled all the times Alastor spoke of wanting Manman’s good looks, but thought he looked too much like his father. All the statements on his own looks left Niffty utterly unimpressed. She didn’t dare accuse him of being lazy, but she thought it nonetheless. He was too unwilling to change when everything changes all the time, willing or not. But if the modus operandi in letting him be happy was left in her hands instead, as she left her happiness to him, well… She thought she knew him well enough to do great things, if she took the wheel and did what he was too frightened to even try.

So, Niffty had spent that night planning. She was full of yummy crawfish etouffee and vile self-hatred, but she was ready to make her Baba happy. She wanted him to keep a genuine smile on his face for longer than those fleeting moments, which she hardly saw anymore.

They went to Rosie’s. They had a great time. Niffty and Alastor laughed all the way back to the hotel and ignored the eyes on them easily. Alastor shared his pipe with her by the employee’s entrance to the kitchen and they went into the hotel laughing. Alastor’s hair was just past his shoulders, loose, frizzy, and poofy. Alastor would hate her saying so, but she thought it looked like the fuzz of a T.V. screen’s lost signal in physical form; the static that followed him visualized in a voluminous swirl of black and red. The black ends stood out against his red coat but blended a bit with his tie and suspenders. The red looked uncannily vivid in the light of the kitchen and he was smiling so genuinely. “How about some gumbo tonight? We have a lot of leftovers to deal with before they go bad, afterall. What better way to use them up?”

Niffty grinned up at him from the counter he set her on, “Good idea! Waste not, want not, right Ba–”

“Ah! Not where anyone can hear you, deary.” Alastor interrupted cheerily, taking out some vegetables, some bones and their scraps from one of the fridges.

“Oh yeah.” Niffty realized her mistake. “Can I make the stock? I don’t want you to have to put your hair up yet.”

Setting the ingredients besides Niffty, and grabbing a few pots and pans, he agreed, “Yes that works. You can start that, then we’ll go out to the lobby to show off your work and come back so I can make the roux.”

Alastor cracked a window and continued to smoke as Niffty prepared the stock for the soup. It wasn’t too hard. Just water, veggies for flavor, salt, and meat scraps. They both did their own things in comfortable silence, but as time ticked by, Niffty found something bothering her, “Is it really that big of a deal?”

“What are you referring to, love?”

“If they know we’re, y’know… related?” The girl cringed, waiting for some sort of retaliatory action.

Alastor looked out the window, taking a deep, slow drag as he thought about her question. His hair covered most of his face from the angle Niffty saw him at. But his monocle, pipe, and teeth all glinted equally bright under the light of the pentagram. “It’s not that I’m ashamed of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Niffty loosened her grip on the knife she held, as if all the tension had left her body. She said nothing, chopping a bit slower, waiting for him to continue. “The reason I made that request of you, to not refer to me like I’m your father, is a very simple one: I don’t want you to be hurt. The few who know who we are… in relation to one another, have almost exclusively used that fact to try and manipulate me. I don’t wish for you to go through a repeat of… certain unsavory incidents which I shall not mention here. I know you remember. And I know you may have found them a gas, but for me they were…”

He trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought. “Can I share a secret with you, Niffty?

“Of course!” She responded quickly. She stuffed the last of her ingredients into the pot and moved to fill a pitcher at the tap.

“There are many people who attempt to sabotage me. The few of those attempts that have even gotten close to succeeding have been those that involve you. I… would remove you from the equation completely if I was capable. But I’m too selfish, so I drag you along and conceal the truth about you. I hope I haven’t harmed you too much in doing so.”

“Nah, it hasn’t been that big of an issue. I did almost lose it when you told the princess that she’s “like the daughter you wish you had,” though.”

“I forgot I did that! I apologize. I tend to get a bit carried away trying to prove a point.”

“I know. You built your whole career off it.” The firefly demon remarked snidely.

“You are on some high horse today! Though, I suppose I don’t mind it; you deserve to after everything.”

“So, you don’t really want the princess to be your daughter?”

“It’s not that so much as, I don’t think the people she calls her parents now deserve the title.”

“Oh, I get it,” Niffty offered, setting the pot to a rolling boil, “You want her to be one of your “lost girls.””

“And what does that mean, little miss?”

“Well, you’re Peter Pan with your shadow, and you always collect lost souls down on their luck. But you mostly destroy the men and mostly leave the women to call on you. You basically have an army of troubled young ladies scattered all over Pride. Hence, Lost Girls.”

“I’m Peter Pan!? Fenwa, have you heard I’m Peter Pan?” He tittered to the dark spot on the wall behind him, which tittered right back.

Niffty rolled her eyes as best she could, put the top pair of arms out in exasperation while her other pair found her hips, “Oh, forget it! The stock is going, let’s go show off your hair.”

So, finally, with Alastor still chuckling with his shadow, they ventured out to the lobby. It was pretty much empty, save for Husk playing solitaire at the front desk. “Husk, my good cat, how’s it been around here? Where is everyone?”

The cat, who had apparently been ignoring his company until he was addressed, made quite a show of looking up and freezing in shock. He had wide eyes and an open mouth from which he let out a noise not unlike a death rattle. Alastor relished the reaction and so was willing to allow him a moment to compose himself. Niffty was not. “Do you like it? I did it myself. Rosie helped ‘cause she got the supplies and stuff, but it was all me pretty much. It took a long time, but it was soooo fun. Did you hear about Rosie’s seventh husband?”

A paw very slowly pushed Niffty off the counter as she continued to talk, not even noticing the action. She toppled into a familiar blanket of darkness, which set her back on the countertol, but by then she had quieted. A sharp bang rang throughout the lobby, causing Husk to flinch, while Niffty simply turned to look at Alastor’s hand where it struck the desk. The deer demon spoke to the cat, “Be polite to her. She’s worth more than you. Now would you like to answer?”

The cat looked at his feet before huffing and replying, “It’s been a pretty slow day. Angel’s at work and the others have been in Charlie’s room talking about arts and crafts or something.”

“Hey, do you like his hair?” Niffty asked, insisting on an answer.

“Y’know, I was gonna say he looks like you-know-who, but I don’t know if I can see it anymore.”

“Oh, you’re full of prunes, old boy! I don’t look like anyone but myself,” Alastor protested, adding, in a more threatening tone, “and you should know better than to imply otherwise.”

Without warning, there was a pop and a flare of gold and the other staff members, along with one nepotistic benefactor were in the lobby. The hotel’s owner let out a happy gasp, “I didn’t know you guys were back already! And! Oh! Al, your hair!”

“Not to your taste princess?” Alastor teased.

“No, NO! I LOVE it! It’s so big! How’d you do that in one day?”

“You’ll have to ask Niffty about that. It was all her.”

The stylist herself added, “I’ll tell you guys about it at dinner! We’re having gumbo!”

The King and Hotel Manager had much more interesting reactions than Charlie’s sparkling eyes, though. Lucifer was frowning deeply with one raised eyebrow in a deeply judgemental expression. While, Vaggie’s face had scrunched in abject confusion. “I know I made fun of you for it, but you didn’t need to get a whole new wig just for me, Bellhop.”

Alastor straightened up and tilted his head sharply to one side, so his neck audibly cracked, and immediately corrected, “It. Is. Not. A wig.”

“There’s no need for shame here. You’re free to put whatever you want on your head.” The devil put his hands up in a faux surrender.

Alastor took a deep breath, quickly readying himself for a petty disagreement the likes of which this hotel had never seen, but he truly didn’t need to be so hasty after all.

“IT'S NOT A WIG!” Niffty shrieked right in Lucifer’s face, her hands gripping his lapels brutally. She stood on his feet, which she’d moved from atop the front desk with unexplainable speed to do.

“Woah, woah, Niffty, it’s ok!” Vaggie tried her best to get the maid off Lucifer, but she was breathing heavily, refusing to let go, an insectoid buzz growing louder in her chest.

She was also refusing to blink, and in the incredibly strained pause, Lucifer had tensed up as well. And, Alastor noticed with amusement, he actually looked a little scared. Niffty still had more to say, though, “I put the magic potion on his head myself, and I styled it for hours, so I know it’s real. And even if it was a wig, you’re never supposed to say someone’s hair looks like a wig to their face! I know you’re a bad boy, but you're so old, you’d think you’d know better.”

Charlie finally intervened after that. She placed a hand lightly on Niffty’s shoulder, though the beetle demon still didn't move at first. It was only after a bit of urging that she released the king. “Ok...um Dad, why don't you say sorry for being rude about Alastor’s hair? And Niffty, why don't you say sorry for touching without asking first?”

Niffty’s eye was a pinprick pupil in a thin gold ring in a sea of ruby scelera, boring into the angel. He swallowed hard and had to make a great effort to look away. Instead, he looked to the deer demon who was watching in quiet amusement. Pompous prick. But for his daughter's sake, he would apologize, “I'm sorry for assuming your hair is a wig. I didn't– well, I did mean to insult you. But I didn't mean to insult this young lady’s hard work. It's really very… pretty, especially for natural hair.”

Niffty had not looked away by the time Lucifer's looked back at her, nor did she look away after she extended her own, “I'm sorry for touching without asking, King Bad Boy.”

She didn't look away when Alastor accepted the apology in the most insincere way he could. She didn't look away when Alastor dragged her back to the kitchen and, despite the conversation, she didn't look away from the King during dinner. Except for during one specific dinner conversation.

It went like this, the present residents and staff took their dinner in the “dining room.” They hadn't ever had enough guests to warrant its public use, but the hotel staff typically ate dinner at the long wood refectory table which sat in a long room with high white walls and a deep red carpet. It had multiple skylights and a large chandelier. There were a lot of chandeliers in the hotel after Lucifer renovated it.

So, the six of them were crowded around one end of the table. Charlie sat at the head with Vaggie and Lucifer on one side and Alastor, Niffty, and then Husk on the other side. Alastor and Charlie discussed their days, news from Rosie, plans for activities for the future and those immediately after dinner. Vaggie occasionally had something to add, but for the most part, everyone quietly enjoyed their meal. Then Alastor began explaining what Niffty’s new schedule will look like for the rest of them. “She will most likely be on call. And if that doesn't work out, we'll start scheduling appointments instead.”

“I think it's really kind of you to set all this up, Alastor.” Charlie praised through a full mouth. “And it's a good idea! I mean, if she's gotta clean, she's gotta clean, might as well direct that energy towards something positive.”

“We're of the same mind there, darling.”

“Mhm! Wow, this is really good! We have to remember to save some for Angel!”

“I already set aside a portion for him before serving us, in case we all were feeling particularly ravenous.”

“Huh.” Charlie noted, “You are really on top of it lately.”

“I always am.”

Lucifer was really tired of the revolting self-aggrandizing at that point in the evening, but he was too focused on the tiny demon (who was standing in her chair, leaning over her bowl) glaring at him. He never expected that someone with such a seemingly short attention span could hold such a grudge. Thankfully, Lucifer wasn't the only one tired of the more polite conversation. The cat chose that moment to speak the first words he had the entire dinner which, for the first time in what felt like forever, caused Niffty to look away from the king. “How is she going to “be on-call” or “make appointments?” Are you gonna have her walk? Take the bus?”

Alastor’s grin sharpened nefariously. He had finished his serving long before the others and had full attention on his dining mates. “Rosie is going to have some people get one of the older hearses back up and running. It has plenty of room for anything our Niffty girl may need.”

“Yeah? Well, who's gonna drive it? You?”

“Perhaps. Do you have a problem with that?” Alastor queried, inspecting his scarlet claws.

“I do have a problem.” Husk slammed his spoon on the table for emphasis, “Nobody sane would ever let you behind the wheel!”

“You're a better DJ than a driver, Allie. That's all.” Niffty reassured the deer.

Straightening his monocle, Alastor accepted, “Thank you dear.”

“So, it's not you, or it shouldn’t be, and Rosie doesn't even have eyes to see the road with. Are you planning on hiring someone or installing special shit so Niffty can drive? On a car that old, it’d might be more financially wise to hire a chauffeur than modify the brakes, suspension, seats, mirrors…” The cat trailed off as Alastor's head tilted a bit more at each listed item.

“Firstly, I’m completely capable of driving if absolutely necessary, but it won’t be! Second, Rosie has people on it. Although, since you're so worried about transportation… Congratulations! You get to drive her.” As Alastor bestowed the responsibility on the cat with accompanying celebratory trumpet, Niffty snickered behind her hands.

“Oh come on! You don’t need me.” Husk growled “You can get anyone to drive her around!”

“Well, you’re the expert on cars here! Besides, it will be good for you! You'll need to keep yourself sober enough to drive.”

More grumbling came from the black-furred demon, but no words were audible. Charlie looked like she wanted to say something, but somehow abstained. Lucifer tried to help, “I can always lend you guys a driver, if you…”

Nifty was back to trying to burn a hole in his face. Alastor waved his hands dismissively, “No, no, your majesty. We can handle ourselves just fine. We wouldn’t want you to go out of your way.”

“It’s not… Ah!” Lucifer startled. He looked to the maid who had decided to harshly scrape her fork on the glass dish. “Why?! Just… do what you want. I don’t care.”

“Thank you for your permission, sire.” The deer sinner teased.

“I think it’s nice you offered at all, Dad!” Charlie interrupted. “I’m gonna go set up in the lobby, ok? Ok.”

Vaggie stacked her empty bowl on top of Charlie’s and followed her out, Lucifer scurrying after the both of them.

As Niffty quickly ate the last of her dinner, Alastor's shadow scooped up everyone else's plates and presumably deposited them in the kitchen. Then it scooped up Niffty's dishes. The girl went about her usual routine of tidying the dining room. (Vacuum, wipe/dust the walls, tables, chairs, decorative accoutrement, and finally dump the table cloth down the chute to be laundered.) 

Alastor idly watched from the doorway, pretending to check his nails, as the girl completed the tasks so quickly she was a blur. Then, when she stood before him, still bouncing on her toes, they went back to the kitchen to do much the same. All in all, the pair was only delayed about a half hour before rejoining the rest of the hotel's workforce.

Princess Charlie had pulled together a large collection of crafting supplies haphazardly stuffed into various boxes, bins, folders, and tins. They sat in the lobby in a great pile, twice as high as the princess herself. Alastor was impressed. "So, Niffty!" Began the princess. "I know you've been looking for things to do lately (and even though you're going to be doing that whole thing with Rosie and Al and Husk) I wanted to contribute to the effort of... Making sure you're not... bored!"

The firefly-demon in question had a large eye shining in the direction of the pile. When the princess finishes her introduction, that eye snapped onto her. "What do you want me to do?"

"W-well, this is all the crafting supplies I've been keeping here and all the stuff I left in my room at the palace a few years ago. If you could organize it all to the best of your ability into that conference room," she gestures to the room behind the front desk, "then it would be a really big help!"

"Yes ma'am! Consider it done!" She saluted the princess and began her assigned task with vigour. Those present stared, dumbfounded by her speed and agility as she climbed up and down the pile.

Wide-eyed, Alastor offered Charlie a quick pat on the shoulder, "Well done! That should keep her occupied for the evening!"

With that reassurance, she heaved a great, relieved sigh and sat on one of the plush armchairs nearby, "I'm so glad! I just want her to be happy..."

"Well, I can certainly understand such a sentiment! Although," he turned and muttered to his shadow, "Fenwa,  galóp dé loúr a le fiy."

As the shadow rushed to follow Niffty, Charlie looked at her hotelier with curiosity, "Hey, what language is that? I've never heard it before."

He seemed somewhat startled by the question, but quickly regained his composure, "It is... A magically infused mix of multiple earthly languages. It is the only one that my shadow responds to. I was simply telling it to "run the heavy stuff after the girl.'"

So, sitting idly, the Hazbin Hotel's inhabitants (minus a certain sultry spider) watched as Niffty meticulously whittled down the pile in her organizing. Occasionally, a friendly shadow helped lift a box, but the one-demon army was independently efficient in her work.