Chapter Text
Seasons don’t really change in Hell.
They don’t, actually.
It’s a constant state of Earth summer with its burning atmosphere & fires. Yet there was always a time when butterflies soared the blood red skies.
It was one of Lucifer’s favorite parts of creation.
The insects with their colors that vary based on which Ring they originate from. But they all had torn, charred wing tips, & flew gracefully in a place that should be an inhospitable for them.
Yet they adapted.
It pleasures Lucifer’s pride to know that adaptation is possible in a place like Hell. That mortal souls could adapt.
Obviously, Lucifer’s favorite butterfly was his own. The Superbia, native to Pride, color of an autumn leaf & a burning star with a fiery smoke trail that it leaves in its wake.
But this season, buterfly season has come early.
& they’re not in the air.
The larva was the Luxuria, native to the Lust Ring, with colors of cotton candy & a glow-in-the-dark blue with yellow highlights.
A whole kaleidoscope of Luxuria was fluttering anxiously in the King of Hell’s chest.
Lilith had left—betrayed him. Leaving him with a broken heart, confused sense of self, & a kingdom, he doesn’t know anything about, to run.
& there was this stupid, foolish deer.
A stupid deer that mocked Lucifer at every turn.
At every Overlord meeting he had to hold, the deer poked & proded at his pride, anger, non-existent heart—everything!
& Lucifer couldn’t help but find it endearing.
Lilith had always criticized him for the littlest things & found gratification in bringing God’s most beloved angel down.
Lucifer blames the Overlord’s attitude for the Luxuria’s presence during the off season.
Despite their petty bickering, it was a breath of fresh air for the King of Hell.
Alastor didn’t bow. Any respect he showed Lucifer wasn’t coerced by the crown or the title he held. Alastor never shyed away from taunting him, no matter the power Lucifer may hold.
It didn’t make Lucifer feel like he had to walk on eggshells around the sinner. No matter what he did, said, or wore, he could expect Alastor to treat him the same.
But this sudden attraction was not the reason Lucifer has called the Overlord before him today.
Nor was it a call for proper respect a ruler like himself should have.
Instead, there was an issue. An issue Alastor could be the solution too.
Hell wasn’t only a place of enteral suffering for mortal souls, it was also the Devil’s prison.
A place where he was limited, chained too, & forced to rule.
Yet he couldn’t touch his subjects.
Lucifer Morningstar couldn’t kill, hurt, or even touch sinners with the intent to harm. Any magic he tried on them was rebuked & did nothing.
It was the reason Lucifer let Lilith lead.
She wasn’t restricted like him. She could show her power in a way that sinners would understand & feel threatened by. She could defend herself against the unruly and she could send a message. & she knew what she was doing.
But now Lilith was gone.
Leaving Lucifer with an issue he’s never had to think about before now.
& thats where Alastor came in.
Alastor was bloodthirsty, craving a power that he only gets from murder & control. He felt no remorse, only satisfaction. On top of that, he is incredibly loyal to those who earn it.
Which is exactly what Lucifer needs now.
Someone who can carry out punishments & enforce the thrones power for him.
Even with the Overlord’s chaotic morality, with a bit of power & direction, the opportunists will surly take the deal.
After all, Lucifer had something Alastor just couldn’t resist.
♪───Ｏ（≧∇≦）Ｏ────♪
Hell was nothing like it was described in the teachings & nothing like Alastor imagined.
It had chaos, fire, pentagrams, power, & the devil. But it lacked actual punishment beyond being trapped in a fiery pit with other idiots.
Not that Alastor minded—fully. While people pissed him off, it allowed him to continue his bloodbath. With easy targets & no punishment for it.
Which Alastor took in stride, there were far too many old hags in charge who needed a reminder that respect is earned. & that with each generation, they became stronger & smarter.
From what Alastor has gathered, Hell’s social hierarchy is based on power. Which wasn’t too different from the one established when he was alive. Sinners weren’t at the bottom, but they were still too low for Alastor’s liking. Especially when it was so easy to climb compared to the one he was stuck with in life.
Killing, threatening, & making deals just to happen to be Alastor’s forte.
& those talents let you thrive in Hell.
It didn’t take long for him to reach the highest rank a mortal soul could. Or so he thought. Alastor was far from bored, there were still so many sould to torment; & now a certain angel to keep him entertained.
Alastor loved pushing his luck & others. Flirting with death as some put it. But when it came to a possible power grab, he didn’t care. He knew the cards he has, & he knows when he can’t win.
& apparently, all that taunting has paid off.
Overlord meetings was the price Alastor paid for his new social status.
They were an annoying thorn in his side when the end of the month rolled around. He had more important things to do than sit around with old, prideful, greedy geezers who run their mouths when all their good for is a meal & a power source.
But he gets the point of the meetings, the Morningstars have to keep track of their most powerful sinners somehow.
Alastor does it himself; if he’s forced into attendance, he might as well scope out the ones threatening his position as the most powerful sinner in all of Hell.
Alastor also makes notes of the weakened & angered ones for a possible…drop by.
No matter the opportunities, Alastor is always one of the first to leave the overstimulating meeting room.
Usually.
This time, Lucifer himself asks the overlord to stay.
Alastor was foolish, but not naïve. If the most powerful being in all of Hell asked him to stay, he would remain.
Not because he respects the King, but out if curiosity. & maybe a hint of fear or fascination. Catching the Devil’s attention was rare, & not always a good thing.
Lucifer was a lot shorter than what Alastor had expected. He lacked the physical characteristics of God’s strongest, most prized angel. Or at least he did in Alastor’s eyes, maybe God had different ideas of what powerful looked like. But Lucifer also doesn’t have the personality characteristics for the role either.
In the four years Alastor has been in Hell, two spent as an Overlord, this was only his third time ever seeing the King. Lilith has always been the face, organizing, leading, controlling. & Lucifer was never there.
Never showed his face, never disagreed with the first woman, & never put forth his own imputs or ideas, which is ironic for the arc angel of imagination.
But Alastor believed he did actually control the politics in Hell.
From the moment Lilith disappeared & Lucifer reappeared in her place, he knew everything that was going on. He knew the ones in position of power, how policies Lilith made functioned, & even the state of his kingdom.
Alastor suspected that perhaps Lucifer was secretly controlling what Lilith did, or he has eyes everywhere.
Which didn’t seem like a far stretch.
Once all the other Overlords had left the meeting room, Alastor swears he saw hundreds—if not thousands, of eyes appear in the walls, floor, ceiling & even the table. They all seemed to scan the room before disappearing just as quickly as they arrived.
It sent a chill down Alastor’s back, a reminder of just how powerful the being he taunted on the daily really was.
No matter how derpy he looked.
Alastor leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow towards the King as if physically asking what this is about.
Lucifer watches the Overlord’s movements closely before he clears his throat & materializes a stack of papers in his hand out of the air.
“I have a proposition.”
The simple words spoken by the Devil had Alastor’s unwavering attention. The King of Hell doesn’t go around making deals. Alastor leans forward & rests his now intertwined hands on the large meeting table. He was going to lay all his cards for this one.
“Which is?”
“Power.”
The Devil replies plainly, as if he didn’t just make this offer to one of the worst people to ever walk the Earth. Instead, he remained stoic & staring straight into the sinner’s soul.
“I give you power, a title, a position at the top. In return, I ask you enforce my rule around Pentagram City & execute punishments of damnnation.”
…
Alastor is never taken of guard. People are predictable. & if they’re not, he expects the unexpected. People pull weird shit all the time.
But this?
This was a whole new level of unexpected. The little, whimsical King of Hell could be out of pocket, sure. But Alastor had never thought him to be in the ‘open to deals’ category.
Lucifer was powerful. God’s favorite, most powerful angel. A fallen angel that had almost been a god. Why did he suddenly need someone to enforce his rule? Did this have to do with Lilith’s disappearance?
While the questions bounced between Alastor’s ears, the promise of power & a higher position in the social hierarchy took a spot in his head. Lucifer had made Lilith— a mortal soul, incredibly powerful.
Alastor could overlook the possible reasons—maybe.
Lucifer was also secretive, & Alastor doubts he could get an answer to that anytime soon. & definitely not in this environment.
If Alastor was to take this offer, he would only have to answer to the Devil and the Devil alone. The King if Hell was notorious for doing, well, nothing. Alastor would have his chores—which he doesn’t mind the sound of so far, & otherwise, he could continue doing his thing.
Alastor sits up straighter, crossing his legs & moving his intertwined hands to his lap. “My my,” he resorts back to his taunting tone to fill the sudden, painfully, loud silence. “What a ‘proposition’, sire.” He tries to sound, & appear at least a bit disinterested. But fascination gleams in his blood red eyes. “A deal like that must have some sort of…extra payment, right?”
The King of Hell nods, usually flimsy, anxious demeanor buried under a layer of cold, aloofness. “Yes,” he says, simple once again. Straight to the point. Lucifer doesn’t have time to indulge in Alastor in his game of circumlocution.
“It would also require,” Lucifer slides the stack of papers across the meeting table towards the Overlord.
“Your soul.”