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The hotel was eerily quiet for some reason.
Lucifer sent a suspicious look around the lobby, his eyes glossing over the random sinners without cataloguing their features. Was it just him or were the shadows darker than usual, more menacing in how stationary they were. Was that deer-faced fuck lurking about anywhere? Probably hiding away looking for the perfect opportunity to jump-scare him.
Bambi said he quit, although Lucifer didn’t believe that for a second.
Because... well, just because!
Casting his golden eyes about, he took a sip from his mug as he lounged upside down on the sofa, legs crossed over the back of the seat. For some reason the coffee from his Deer Season mug didn’t taste as sweet without the object of his disdain nearby. It just wasn’t as funny.
Lucifer let out a grumpy harrumph.
Well, this sucked. Why was he so bored? Why was this hotel so boring?
Letting out something between a groan and a growl, Lucifer pulled out his phone, letting his head dangle off the seat cushion towards the ground as he looked at his call logs. His stomach twisted, somewhere between sour and hopeful. Maybe, just maybe she’d answer on his 666th call? Maybe?
A banner notification slid onto his screen as he contemplated this depressing thought.
666 News: Breaking News! Alastor: Phoney...
Lucifer stared at it. Hard.
Without thinking, he tapped the notification to see what this was about.
The headline elongated to: 666 News: Breaking News! Alastor: Phoney Tail-Less Loser?!
Lucifer laughed to himself, taking a very delicate and balanced sip of coffee from his dangerously precarious position. Ha! Looked like Bambi got himself caught in the sights of the misinformation police! Delighted, he scrolled down, wondering what nonsense they were making up this time on the so-called news.
Which is when he saw the screenshot. He suddenly frowned. Wait... that wasn’t actually-
He hit the play button.
It was. Lucifer’s eyes widened as he watched the clip. And there he was. Completely unglitching, which was the first sign that something was terribly wrong. The second being he was hogtied and trussed up like a turkey. The third, he was letting another person touch him. A vaguely familiar sinner, some TV type personality had his arm around him, looking like a puffed up peacock while Alastor just sat there. Utterly humiliated.
The sour sensation in Lucifer’s stomach worsened.
The TV, that flat faced fuck, raised a hand, looking so fucking smug with himself as he declared to all listening:
“And let me be the one to tell the world that Alastor... does not have a tail!”
Lucifer spittaked right onto his phone.
Then promptly started choking since drinking coffee upside down was inadvisable to begin with.
How-?! What-?!
How would that fucker even know?! How did he know before Lucifer did?! What the fuck was going on?!
Lucifer righted himself, legs cartwheeling as he spun into a proper sit, furiously looking over the page to see if there was any more. But it was just that clip. However, there were links to numerous other videos, all of them with Alastor looking dour and deeply annoyed in the captivity of that blue twink.
Lucifer’s eye twitched. Fury began to flare up, unbidden, like a match tossed into a barrel of gasoline. It was so immediate and so volatile, he had to take a rare moment of self-reflection. The fuck was he so mad about? He liked seeing that deer being put in his place... didn’t he?
...It must be because of the tail. Yes! That’s it. How dare that deer go prancing around Hell showing his triangle ass off to all and sundry and not have anything there to show for it!
Lucifer jumped up from the sofa. Just as Charlie burst into the front doors of the hotel, howling:
“Help! Help! Alastor’s been taken!”
The Devil glanced over at his daughter, his dear sweet, baby girl, and leered dangerously:
“Oh, don’t worry honey. Daddy’s gonna fix it.”
~o~
One daring and deeply violent rescue later...
Portalling out of the V Tower, Lucifer was inordinately pleased with himself as he heaved a struggling Alastor from over his shoulder and onto the cushions of the library sofa. The deer demon glared at him with daggers, eyes wild and outraged. Which was completely uncalled for, considering Lucifer had just performed a very heroic and gallant rescue.
The radio console crackled to life in the center of the room.
**-You obnoxious, interfering, pint-sized piece of shit! What do you think you’re doing?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!**
“Well, hello to you too,” Lucifer smirked, raising an eyebrow. “But seriously, that’s how you talk to your rescuer?”
Alastor only struggled more, still trussed up in wires. **I didn’t ask for your help!**
Lucifer snorted, rolling his eyes. Then took in Alastor’s prone position. More specifically the red coat that very neatly covered up the deer’s derriere. Without so much as a “how do you do,” he lifted the coat and took in the surprisingly cute tush... that was severely lacking in the tail department. Just as that TV sinner said. Lucifer’s eye ticked, even as he grabbed that ass just to make doubly sure nothing was glamoured away.
The radio let out a screech that nearly made the king’s ears bleed.
**WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!**
“Me?” the Devil said innocently, his ears still ringing. A smile, dark and dangerous, spread over his lips, showing off his rows of predatory teeth. His fingers crackled with golden, divine magic, making Alastor’s eyes widen with something close to terror. “I’m just righting a little wrong.”
With just a little twirl of his claws, he drew a little glowing pentagram right at the base of the tail bone. Then with the snap of his fingers, let his magic do its thing.
Alastor let out an involuntarily confused bleat, as something brand new to his near 90 year old physiology materialized into being. A cute, fluffy tail, red fur trimmed with black with a white heart shaped center. It quivered, fresh and fragile, like a newly born fawn.
Lucifer absolutely gushed. “Oh my Gosh~! Wook at it! It’s so cyuuuute~! It matches you so perfectly, Bambi!”
Alastor stared at him in horror, then looked down to his derriere. He froze, so stiff it looked like someone hit the pause button on him. Then he began to shake.
What followed was a sonic boom that blew out every window of the hotel.
~o~
“Oh Alastor, I’m so happy you’re back!”
Charlie sob-gushed over the Radio Demon, trying ever so hard to hold herself back from throwing herself at him. “I’m so sorry that you got stuck in the crosshairs for me! I swear, I promise I’ll never, ever, ever talk to the Vees ever again! I won’t give them any ammunition anymore! And-”
Alastor twitched, his smile more forced than ever, as he began to tune her out.
He was aware that this incident would soon be swept under the rug, catalogued as one of the many crazy shenanigans that happened in Hell. So he would have accomplished absolutely nothing and at great personal cost of his pride. He was going to be mocked for decades. However, he had to play his part, didn’t he? Alastor, altruist, self-sacrificing for the sake of the cause.
Honestly, he didn’t know what was worse. The smirking leers from the unreformed sinners in the hotel or the crushing starry eyed looks from the inner circle. Then he felt a chill and glanced behind him. Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil himself, smiled at him with a knowing, twisted look that was anything but innocent. His eyes glanced downward to the little secret covered up in a red coat.
The newly formed appendage twitched, still halfway startling Alastor it was even there.
No, he was wrong. This was worse. Far worse. So much worse than any humiliation Alastor endured. Even when he was forced to witness Vox and Valentino in coitus.
Alastor glared back at him, even as Lucifer gave him a smug little wave from the couch.
Well, he couldn’t very well quit now, could he. Not until he managed to throttle that little pipsqueak within an inch of his life and forced him to take the tail away.
“-And I’m so glad that Dad came in to rescue you away from those assholes!”
The Radio Demon glanced back at Charlie. Oh all the things he wanted to say. Instead, he smiled. “Ah yes, I’m ever so lucky to have the Morningstars in my life,” he said dryly, unable to keep the sarcasm from his tone. However, Charlie was far too in the throes of relief to actually notice.
“And we’re so lucky to have you!” she grinned, full of that cringy cheer and enthusiasm. “Anyway, take a load off. I’m sure that you need to recover from your ordeal.”
“Of course. My thanks,” Alastor grated out, eager to get the fuck out of there. Smile twitching, he spun around and headed straight for the bar. Husker perked up as he neared, setting aside the glass he was polishing. He looked, for once, sincere and contrite, ears pinned downward.
“Oh. Hey Boss. Hey um- I’m sorry about how that fight went down, and you having to-” Husk started awkwardly. Until Alastor palmed his face out of the way.
“Save it,” he snapped, pushing his pet aside to grab a bottle of whiskey from the back of the bar. Without further ado, he dropped into his shadows to head straight to the relative safety of his tower. Once inside, he threw his coat off and headed to his mirror. He turned, looking at the damage.
The fucking thing was still there.
It moved of its own accord, flicking and twitching, like it had a mind of its own. Forgoing the tumbler entirely, Alastor drank straight from the bottle, as if the alcohol would be penicillin for this latest round of humiliation. One that only he and the Devil were privy to. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he didn’t have this thing.
“Once I get my hands on that lousy little...” he growled, claws scraping against the glass of the bottle.
He didn’t know how. But he absolutely was going to kill that Devil. Never mind that Lucifer Morningstar was far stronger than any mid-tier archangel. Never mind that Rosie already mockingly implied he didn’t have a hope in Hell at succeeding. He was going to make Lucifer pay for what he’d done.
Speaking of...
Alastor slammed the bottle down on his bureau as he began to unbutton his shirt. All this agitation was probably doing nothing for his injury. Though it wasn’t throbbing as much as it normally did...
The Radio Demon went still. His fingers brushed over the threads stitching the wound closed. It wasn’t actively bleeding. In fact it was starting to mottle a little, scabbing at the edges. Healing. But most alarming of all...
The threads were gold.
Alastor stared at it in the mirror. At the little divine threads knitting him back together. Then he let out a scream and threw the whiskey bottle at the mirror with a hellraising, “FUUUCK!”
~o~
The Radio Demon glared at Lucifer from across the lobby, trying to cause a natural disaster to tear the hotel apart and smite the Devil through sheer willpower alone. Alas, nothing happened. Instead, Lucifer only noticed his attention and grinned wickedly. He immediately dropped what he was doing and skipped over, honing in on Alastor like a tractor beam.
“G’morning, Bambi~!” Lucifer beamed. Alastor flinched, the mortifying nickname now having a far worse connotation. “How’re you doing, baby cakes? All recovered from your half-assed surrender to those trio of nitwits?”
Alastor ground his teeth. He so very much wanted to take Lucifer’s little round head in his hands and squeeze it until his eyes popped. Instead, he said, “Might I remind you, Lu, that I did that in order to preserve your darling daughter’s reputation. Since you were so utterly inept at keeping a bunch of lowlifes from smearing her across all of Hell.”
Lucifer immediately scowled, his eyes flashing with annoyance. He fell on his backfoot, folding his arms defensively over his chest as he declared haughtily, “Well, it’s not my fault I don’t pay attention to the television. It’s all a bunch of mind rotting junk.”
“You don’t pay attention, period,” Alastor sniped back.
Lucifer glowered at him, his face contorting into a churlish glare that Alastor normally so delighted in. However, he sat uncomfortably in his seat, unable to get a good position. Not with this brand new appendage pressed between his back and the cushion. He didn’t know how to sit, under, over, with it tucked in? The Devil seemed to notice his faint fidgeting and the glare morphed into a dark grin.
“What’s the matter, Bambi? Not used to your little addition yet?” he snickered.
Alastor fumed, static crackling in the air as he tried to hold it in, popping and snapping. He reminded himself he couldn’t do anything to get rid of the tail yet. Not while Lucifer’s (obviously unintentional) magic was still piecing him back together.
But then Lucifer leaned in, too close, and whispered slyly in his ear. “Shame you’re not showing it off. Proving to the world that Box guy’s a fraud. But I don’t blame you for keeping it our lil’ secret. It’s just too cute on you, sweet-hart.”
Slightly unnerved by the timbre of this conversation, Alastor pressed back and felt the new fragile bones press even deeper into his back. “Cute? Sweetheart?” he mocked, tilting his head as he decided to lean into it. “Lulu, don’t tell me you have a crush on me.”
The Devil instantly recoiled, rearing back as his face overheated. He spluttered ingloriously. “Wha- I- no!” he protested entirely too much. “I do not- Absolutely not! Hell to the no! I’m happily married, fuck you very much!”
Alastor gave him a bland look.
“Stop looking at me like that!” Lucifer shrieked.
“Like what?” Alastor asked cheerfully, now thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Like I’m not happily married! And just because I can be attracted to anything that moves doesn’t mean you’re even remotely on my radar!” Alastor raised a brow. “A-and I’m monogamous!”
Did this nitwit not realize he was yowling like a feral cat in the middle of the hotel lobby? Alastor’s eyes cast around and saw several would-be repenters looking hurriedly away. He smiled darkly as he turned back to Lucifer. “Then why did you give me such a ‘cute addition,’ Devil dear?” he asked, leaning forward to prop a chin on one hand, deeply relishing the way the king’s face scrunched with extreme vexation.
“I-! You-! Shut up!” Lucifer blustered, poofing a duck shaped pillow out of who knows where and throwing it at Alastor’s face. Alastor was cackling madly as it plopped onto his lap, watching Lucifer puff away in a shower of glittery red sparkles, apparently unable to come up with any kind of retort and fleeing.
Alastor giggled. Somehow forgetting entirely that he swore unholy vengeance on the man.
Husk swung by with a tray of welcome cocktails for some sinners lining up at reception. He gave the Radio Demon a strange look. “Uh... Boss? Is your coat... moving?”
Alastor froze, turning around and seeing that leaning forward had freed up his unwelcome appendage. And it was wagging like a happy pup, unseen under the coat but making its presence known. His face went scarlet. Mortified, he too fled, vanishing into shadows.
~o~
The next week, the pair of them couldn’t look at each other.
Alastor told himself it was for the best. Just stay out of the Devil’s sight in case the king got any bright ideas of removing the tail out of some bizarre need to prove that he was still in a healthy relationship. His chest was healing, but slowly. Even the residuals of divine magic didn’t seem to work miracles on angelic weaponry it seemed. It vexed him deeply that he was stuck in limbo in this state.
Because the tail had ideas. The tail had opinions.
Alastor tried trapping it, keeping it snug and tucked away. But it kept twitching and he found out that he was highly ticklish in certain spots that were untenable. So freed from his trousers it had to be, but still hidden away under his coat. Now instead he became hyperaware of it.
Especially at the way it wagged any time he caught a glimpse of Lucifer’s disgusting heart shaped face.
Why the stupid thing would wag was absolutely beyond him. He absolutely loathed that arrogant, entitled pipsqueak. Why, going to annoy and anger the Devil was the highlight of these otherwise deeply frustrating past several weeks.
He was going to kill that tiny fuck for putting such a traitorous appendage on him.
Still under the continuous mocking leers and smirks of resident sinners, Alastor began hatching a plan to murder the Devil. To Hell with the consequences. As soon as his wound was healed, he was going to erase Lucifer Morningstar from existence.
It was easy enough to procure an angelic weapon. Most had been gathered up, shipped back to Carmilla Carmine. However, he had his resources.
Day by day, Alastor studied his wound in the mirror, trying to determine whether today was the day or not. His tail shook and quivered every time he touched the threads, as if warning him off. It finally sealed, leaving a bubbling scar. But he could live with that. It still ached if he moved a certain way, but he could live with that too.
Smiling in the mirror, he pulled open a drawer in the bureau. Nestled inside a piece of bloodstained cloth lay a dagger. Niffty’s dagger to be precise. The Adam Slayer. Chuckling darkly, he pulled it out and thumbed the razor edge while his shadow slipped his coat over his shoulders. Underneath, his tail wagged with anticipation.
Finally, something they could agree on.
Shadows laughing, he slipped into the darkness and slithered across the hallway. They pried at the bottom of the apple shaped door and slid into the king’s quarters. Once inside, Alastor reformed and took a look around at... everything.
The Radio Demon could only stare at the horrendous decor. Carnival colors, the mounds of tacky gold, the ducks. So many ducks. Mountains of them tumbling down the stairs, heaped over tables and chairs, covering all but narrow walkways. This was not the bedroom of someone remotely stable. His red eyes crept over to the bed, where a certain little royal lay sprawled spread eagled under the sheets. Somehow managing to take up the entire space even though he was so small. Guh, the Devil even slept like an entitled little shit.
Alastor brandished the dagger, smiling viciously as his red eyes glowed in the dark. Lucifer looked entirely too peaceful for his liking, his face guileless in his slumber. Like a man who could never be threatened. Alastor couldn’t wait to change that. How divine would it be to see that cherubic face contorted in fear and anger.
SQUEAK-U
Alastor froze. He looked down. A clown rubber duck lay underneath his foot. The bed stirred. He looked up, still several feet away. His tail lifted unwillingly in alarm, high on alert. The king blearily opened his eyes, just as Alastor hid the dagger behind his back.
“Bambi?” Lucifer mumbled, blinking through sleep addled eyes. The sheets slipped from his torso and he was very much naked. “S’far away, c’mere...”
Perturbed, Alastor did so. If only so it would get him closer to his goal. The king didn’t quite look in his right mind, smiling with dreamy bliss. Alastor let out a tiny bleat as Lucifer grabbed him by the lapel and pulled him unceremoniously to kneel on top of the plush mattress. It oozed underneath Alastor, soft and decadent. “What’s it going to be tonight?” Lucifer leered at him, through him, dreamy gaze hungry, “Blood drinking or hate fucking?”
“...Oh absolutely not!” the deer demon yowled, wrenching himself back. However, the grip Lucifer had on his coat was too tight, and Alastor found himself toppling inelegantly over the ground, shrugging out of the coat entirely. The dagger slipped out of his grasp, clattering underneath the bed.
Lucifer blinked. He seemed to wake up then. Or rather, realized that he was awake. He let out a squawk, pulling his sheets up over his bare chest at some attempt at modesty. “Alastor?! What the fuck are you doing in my room?!” he cried, his face glowing with embarrassment.
Alastor wasn’t faring any better, ass over tea kettle, his stupid tail wagging brightly in the air as his shadows reached for the dagger underneath the bed. He scrambled back into a kneeling position on the floor, holding the dagger out in front of him at the king to ward him off.
Lucifer did not look impressed.
In a single swift motion, a golden sword materialized in his hand and flung the little dagger off to the side with such force the dagger dug deeply into the wall. Lucifer snapped his fingers and a pink robe fluttered around his shoulders. He threw the sheets off of him and stood imperiously over Alastor, his face mottled with deep annoyance and mortification. “You heard absolutely nothing, you hear me, Bambi? Absolutely nothing,” he growled, shoving a finger in Alastor’s face, apparently more concerned about being caught having sex dreams than the attempted assassination.
“As if I would repeat anything so disgusting,” Alastor muttered, realizing his great plan was now dead in the water. He slapped the finger away, shoving himself up to his feet and dusting himself off. “If you don’t say anything, I won’t. Coat.”
Lucifer threw it at him.
Alastor coughed primly, draping the coat over his forearm. “Well. Good night,” he spoke, spinning on his heel still feeling Lucifer’s glare on him. His treacherous little tail wagged, as if saying goodbye to the king.
Behind him he heard the king mutter, “Don’t have any right to be that cute.”
His temper flaring, Alastor spun back around, absolutely not having this. Shadows roiled like flame off his form, twisting and arching over the golden walls. “You’re saying this is somehow my fault?! You’re the one who put this stupid tail on me, you little shit! You started this!”
“I didn’t start it! You did!” Lucifer snapped back, hands fisted at his sides.
Alastor stared at him. Then he exploded, “By what kind of twisted logic did I start this?!”
The king spluttered in sheer animosity, “You’re the one who let that freaky box man touch you!” He paused. Then blustered on. “And yeah, now that I hear that aloud that sounds like victim blaming, but still!”
Alastor dug his fingers into his hair and clawed down his face, letting out a scream of pure frustration. Both stood, huffing and puffing, somehow at an impasse. Finally, Alastor said firmly, “Lucifer, take it off.”
“No,” the king replied, jutting his chin out.
Alastor grabbed for him, claws capturing his jaw and sinking into soft cheeks. “I said take it off!”
“No~!” Lucifer cried, lips forming into a childish pout.
Alastor wrenched his face closer, eyes spinning with radio dials as his very being began to stutter and glitch. “Lucifer, so help me, if you don’t take this thing off-”
Lucifer bit him.
The deer demon let out a pained yowl, shaking his hand as circular pinprick cuts formed on his skin. Instantly, Lucifer looked contrite, hands making half-aborted motions towards him. “Oh fuck! Didn’t mean to actually hurt you.”
Alastor stared at him, cradling his throbbing hand to his chest. “I don’t understand you.”
“Yeah, well I’m a deep and complicated person,” Lucifer replied mulishly, folding his arms defensively over his chest.
Alastor could not have rolled his eyes with any more exaggeration. “Lulu, dear,” he said slowly, going against every instinct he had to appeal to the Devil’s better nature, “you modified my body without consent. How exactly do you think your darling daughter is going to react when I tell her what you did?”
Lucifer gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
The Radio Demon’s smile hardened.
“Fuck, you would. Okay, fine,” the king growled, running a clawed hand through his delightfully disheveled hair. “Turn around.”
With extreme reluctance, Alastor did so.
Nerves tingled up his spine as Lucifer’s fingers gently probed the base of his tail. As if trying to search out the original sigil. For one harrowing moment, Alastor panicked at the thought that this couldn’t be undone or the Devil would botch it up somehow. Then the fingers warmed, something soft and comforting fluttered unwillingly through his lower back.
Lucifer stepped back. “Okay, there. Done. I modified it.” Alastor looked behind him and saw it was still there. He sent the king a foul glare. The stupid tail wagged. “You can make it come and go at will,” the king explained, tsking at the deer demon’s disbelieving look. “Just want to make it go away.”
Alastor cast the little fluffy tail a look. He concentrated, willing his being into obliterating it from existence. With a small puff of gold sparkles, it popped out of sight. Leaving his backside as untouched as it had been for the better part of a century. A little resistant, he willed it back. Just to make sure he could poof it away again. Tentatively, he touched his chest and felt the golden threads still there under his shirt.
After a moment he said, “I’m not thanking you.”
“Didn’t ask for it,” Lucifer retorted grouchily. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”
~o~
“Is it just me or are they fighting even more now?”
Vaggie, Husk, and Angel Dust mingled by the bar, watching the King of Hell and the Radio Demon quickly dissolving into some sort of mix between a shouting match and throwing contest. Relatively tame in terms of property damage, all considered, as things from books to side tables were hurled across the lobby. There were far larger priorities than stopping their pissing contests.
“Damn, they must really hate each other,” Angel Dust whistled, taking in the carnage.
“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” Husk shrugged, reflexively cleaning a glass behind the bar.
Angel cocked an eyebrow at the sphinx. “What, you know somethin’ we don’?”
Husk didn’t reply. He wouldn’t live if he voiced his suspicions aloud.
But sometimes, not all the time, during these little spats of theirs he noticed some movement that didn’t quite align with the way the Radio Demon’s coat should flare when he spun. Small, subtle. Repeated.
Like the wagging of a tail.