Chapter Text
The Trolls Kings Of Hell Ragebait
1.
'This is more pathetic than my current situation,' Alastor couldn't help but note as he stood on a balcony overlooking the quite literal trainwreck of a "trust exercise" Charlie was orchestrating on the side-roof of the Hazbin Hotel. Well, if one could call what was going on down there a "trust exercise", that is. Alastor might not be gunning for redemption himself, but he still fails to see what tying dear Husker in drag to a railroad suspended in the air and attached to the side of the hotel while an adult film actor wearing barely enough scraps of cloth to cover his most intimate area pretends to be a wild west sheriff as Niffty drives an angelic-steel-spear-fronted locomotive at breakneck speed towards the drunken gambler all for the Vees to film has to do with redemption. The whole thing is practicing several sins, or sins-in-motion, so he really can't see how dear Charlie thought this silly little activity would achieve anything other than humiliate everyone involved and give the Vees more ammunition for their current smear campaign against the Princess and her passion project.
He'd been right to doubt the whole endeavor from the start, though he is ticked off that he'd almost lost one of his most valuable thralls because of Charlie's naivety to the fact that she invited far less cultured Overlords into her hotel. Husker was fine thanks to Vaggine - or was it Vanastasia these minutes? The dear girl should really decide if she doesn't want him teasing her - but now Vox had gone and dragged out dirty laundry from the effeminate fellow's living days, which is just rude. Everyone knows you don't bring up a sinner's time alive unless they do it themselves or you shared a past, like Alastor and Mimzy do. Angel Dust has certainly died before Vox and isn't friendly with him besides. Vox was stepping over quite a few lines.
Then again, the picture box idiot had never been good with boundaries. All that incessant touching ... Alastor shuddered at just the remembrance of how often he'd felt like his skin was crawling because of him.
"Tch," came from his right and Alastor arched an eyebrow at finding a certain ruler standing beside him on the balcony overlooking the unnecessary little angst fest going on down there. Really, murder? What a mundane sin! Everyone murdered either down here or up on Earth. It's just the type of world they live in and if that's gasp-worthy for Angel Dust and Charlie, maybe neither should be engaging in this redemption business after all. "What a mess."
"It certainly could've gone better, or been more entertaining," Alastor agreed, his other eyebrow joining the first when Lucifer thrust his new Duck Season mug at him, the King sipping from his own Deer Season one without looking at him as he rolled his eyes. "But I've come to learn long ago that any production in any way involving Vox or his cohorts is destined to fail."
"You know this Box guy?"
"You could say we were acquainted, once."
Lucifer nodded, strangely understanding. Then again, the Fallen Angel had known Adam and they couldn't have been enemies since the dawn of humanity, that would've had to come later, what with the wife-stealing. "So, like, what's his deal? Is having a TV for a head his whole shtick or is he just trying to stand out? Like with all the blue. Because he ain't special for being blue. Ozzie's been blue since the first years of Hell and he never brags about it."
"Who?"
"Oh, right, you wouldn't know him. Asmodeus, Sin of Lust, big, blue, fiery, rooster guy, real chill, you'd love his voice," the King replied with an astonishingly surprising lack of condescension about Alastor not knowing one of the Deadly Sins. "Probably his taste in music, too, if not for the lyrics, but he likes instrumentals, too. Maybe I should hook you two up? He's always complaining about the lack of good jazz or blues stations even if he has, like, the biggest record collection of sultry jazz and blues in Hell."
"I doubt we'd get along." Considering the demon's Sin and Alastor's utter lack of it, as far as he's discovered in over a hundred and twenty years of his existence.
"Nah, Ozzie's great. You know all those movements on Earth about consent in the last few decades? All Ozzie. He strives not to make people uncomfortable about their desires, whatever shape or form they take."
"Well! He certainly sounds like the superior blue demon, indeed!" Alastor exclaimed in genuine surprise. "I would like to think that it would be my utmost pleasure to make his acquaintance, Lu."
Before the duck-obsessed blond could gripe at the overly familiar address Alastor has taken to using to counter such a cutesy nickname like Bambi, the familiar sounds of a very specific crashout and franzied static erupted from down below, making both of the patron unholities acting as the hotel's protectors arch an eyebrow at the glitching Vox.
"L-LU! You call him LU!? Since when do you do cute fuckity nicknames, Al!?"
Lucifer winced from the sheer volume and shamefully distorted quality of Vox's yelling, rubbing his ear as though the tantrum might've caused damage. "Sheesh, they don't make sinners, especially Overlords like they used to, huh, Bambi?"
"BAMBI!?"
"They most certainly do not! I should know, I ended all the old ones, ha ha!"
"Yeah?" The King asked in a purr that had Alastor instantly suspicious. The way those glowing, mischievous eyes darted down towards where Vox had been harassing the Princess and her ragtag team made it rather obvious that the little Devil was itching for petty revenge. Petty revenge he needed Alastor's participation for. Petty revenge Alastor will gladly indulge in. "I bet you have all the best stories? Did you meet that one cowboy Overlord? The one with five arms and five legs? He was weird and disgusting, but at least he had a good hat."
Red on red eyes darted down to the pathetic thing on Vox's TV head and he had to hold in a cackle as he caught on to their first target. "Yes, he did have a rather impressive piece of headwear! Not some cheap copy that's half-racist somehow and half unfashionable trend copying!"
"Excuse you-" Velvette began, since clearly she's the one who had designed the little hat and Vox was also opening his glitching mouth to spit back some comeback, but Lucifer beat them to it.
"Yeah! Imagine trying to copy someone's shtick just to try and 'be better' than them!" An obvious dig on how Vox had a stripe coat like Alastor's but with coattails like Lucifer's. "As if copycats could ever be better than the original! There's a reason the original is being copied, after all!"
"Indeed! Though one can't fault the little Vees for their delusions of grandeur," Alastor fake-lamented, Lucifer joining him by putting a hand on his forehead like he was some fainting maiden. He'd even manifested a pearl necklace to clutch at! And he was leaning against Alastor as if he needed extra support to remain on his feet lest he 'faint' from the scandal of the Vees' lack of creativity. "They'd need at least one creative and original braincell between them to understand the concept of originality."
"Uh, dad? Alastor? Maybe you shouldn't-"
"No toots, let 'em cook, this is gettin' good," Angel interrupted the Princess before she could guilt her father into stopping being a menace, which would just be a shame. After all, they were just warming up!
"Listen here, you old timey prick!" Vox barely got out through all the static and distortion, his hypnotic eye swirling non-stop.
"Who are you to call anyone old timey?" The King of Hell interrupted the television Overlord again. "I've seen your shows and your stance on women. If anyone's old timey here, it's you and your backwater misogyny poorly disguised as feminism!"
"He really is just a disappointment on every possible level," Alastor delivered the finishing blow with a sad little shake of his head and Vox's screen was suddenly filled with error messages.
"For fuck's sake, did he bluescreen again!? That's it, I'm calling the driver, we're done here," Velvette exclaimed, stomping away towards the elevator. Charlie ran after her, asking if they'll air the show about the hotel, to which Velvette just flipped her off.
That tickled Lucifer wrong, obviously, because he called after her. "Try taking some fashion lessons! Mammon dresses better than you!"
"FUCK YOU!"
Lucifer cackled and Alastor couldn't help but join him, the two leaning against each other for support. Alastor's shadow took their mugs from their hands so they don't spill their coffee all over themselves.
"Ah, your Majesty, I must say you make for an excellent partner in crime!" The red Overlord declared, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Likewise, Bambi-" Lucifer's response was cut off by a high frequency screech as Vox's head literally exploded, leaning a busted, charred TV behind on his shoulders as his body tipped backwards. The impact shattered what was left of the glass and Vox's whole body sparked with attempts to reboot. "Uh ... Oops?"
Alastor cackled again, unable to help himself as he outright wheezed.
This was much better entertainment!
2.
Lucifer didn't immediately catch on to his rival's shitty mood when he spotted the deer come down to the staff lounge room with a mug of blood-and-coffee in hand.
A mug that had been his own just a couple of weeks ago but that had disappeared one day after they'd mutually pissed each other off, only to reemerge with crude drawings added to the cute rubber duck image and the words Duck Season scrawled in sharp but messy writing. Lucifer had, of course, retaliated, manifesting an identical mug, but with a cute fawn with fiery eyes and a target painted behind it, denoted Deer Season. So now they had a matching set and almost constantly use them. Alastor's other mug with the Oh Deer painted on it has been gathering dust in the top shelf where only Alastor or that pink spider guy could even reach it without a ladder.
Lucifer always felt rather proud of himself whenever he saw the red sinner using the Duck Season mug. It's been a while since he'd last had anyone to share inside jokes with and the bellhop was as much of a menace to society as the Devil himself was, if not more.
Anyways, the man was clearly not as chipper as he can be but it didn't immediately register to Lucifer that his rival was in a shitty mood altogether. He'd been too perked up to finally get in their daily dose of banter before they could peacefully share a coffee, as they've become wont to do recently. The audience to their antics were inconsequential besides to mess further with Alastor.
Alastor wasn't really in top form. He looked tired and maybe a little drunk or even high? Tipsy at the very least. Lucifer was also sure he looked a little thinner than usual and couldn't recall the last time he'd seen the cannibal indulge. It was rare anyone came to the hotel with openly ill intentions these days, not after the residents and Lucifer himself sent the Exorcists packing after Adam was killed by the little maid in Alastor's service, so Alastor wouldn't have any free snacks. And he hadn't really left the hotel, either, so he couldn't visit something called Cannibal Town? Charlie had told her father about it, but Lucifer had been too disturbed by the idea of organized cannibals to really take in her rambling about how nice it was, how nice Rosie is and how she's apparently Alastor's 'bestie'. The only indulgence Alastor seemed to be having these days is blood in his coffee, was he okay?
How slowly he reacted and the lack of equally biting comebacks was a worrying sign that he probably wasn't.
It all came to a head when Lucifer called him 'Mr Useless' and told him to use a coaster when he slammed his mug down and some of the liquid inside spilled over. Clearly at least slightly delirious based on how his eyes were glowing more than usual, the shorter than normal fuse and preoccupied with whatever problems he seems to be suffering from, whatever Alastor had intended to say got crosswired and lost in translation somewhere between his brain and his mouth.
"That's it! Fuck this. I want a divorce!"
Lucifer nearly dropped his mug in surprise.
Spider guy and his cyclops friend stopped watching the phone that's been preoccupying their attention and stared, mouths agape and the collective of their nine eyes wide as saucers.
Alastor took a second to realize what he'd said but before embarrassment could set in, the cyclops one beat him to it with a question that should've been too absurd to even ask.
"Wait, you guys are married? I thought the 'two dads' bit was a joke!" She cast an accusatory look up at the spider guy who looked bewildered and shrugged.
"I was sure the short king wanted to tap that but he's also, like, always wearing a wedding ring and I thought that was for his wife???"
Sensing prime time entertainment and a chance to distract Alastor from whatever it is he'd actually wanted to say - something that would clearly result in his leaving and that would just upset Charlie, who liked the guy for whatever reason and considered him a friend - Lucifer decided to roll with it. "You can't divorce me, I'm the King of Hell! We didn't sign any prenups and I am not leaving half of all of Hell to you, baby!"
The change in nickname had their two spectators choking while Alastor narrowed his eyes dangerously at him.
Lucifer just sent him a wink, trying to get him to play along, especially since they had such a nosey audience. It took a moment longer than it usually would, but still faster than would be suspicious to react, for Alastor to get it and go along with the program. The man was reliable for one thing, if nothing else, and that was his constant seeking of entertainment, especially if it means he gets to sow chaos.
"You cannot keep me in this loveless marriage, Lucifer!" Alastor said with such dramatic flair that Lucifer almost hissed at him for overplaying the part ... until it dawned on him that the man did everything with dramatic flair that him not acting like this would be more suspicious. "I care not for your silly kingdom! Take it! Perhaps it shall keep you warm in the night, unlike this 'bellhop'!"
'Okay, so he's still pissed,' Lucifer thought with a wince, trying not to let the words get to him. Alastor has never made fun of him for being lonely or waiting on his (ex) wife to return. He is not above it to bring it up if Lucifer strikes a nerve first, though, like that one and only incident when they'd both gotten drunk after hours at the bar a few days after the failed Extermination when Lucifer had called Alastor a 'son of a bitch'. The deer had spat back that it's no wonder Lilith left him if he addressed women that way and left the blond to mourn destroying a perfectly amicable evening with one of the few people in Hell who didn't put him on a pedestal or who didn't fear him. Thankfully neither brought it up in the morning and acted as if nothing had happened, continuing on with their lives and their daily bickering. Both had avoided topics of mothers and absent wives ever since.
Until now, which meant Lucifer had stumbled upon a landmine and he wasn't sure if it was the Adam thing, the having to retreat thing or something else more nuanced than Lucifer could understand after so many years of not interacting with human souls that sometimes brought unique contexts to Hell that are unknown to older denizens.
He'll have to investigate that so he can maybe apologize if he'd crossed a line. After all, humans were so good at hating and being hateful towards each other that not even the most skilled sniffer dog would be able to avoid all the landmines their shittines invented. Better say sorry now than let an accidental slur or something poison their interactions forever.
"As if I could derive any warmth with you around - you hog all the blankets!"
"You are literally a snake, you chill the bed so much that it almost makes my brain force me into hibernation! Deer don't even hibernate!"
"Uh, Angie? What's going on?" The cyclops girl asks the spider guy, who could only shrug and seems to be filming them with his phone? Why? Not like the Red Guy shows up on camera and Lucifer shamelessly walks around in his fluffy, pink house robe, so it's not like it'll embarrass him to be able to hold the attention of an infamously entertainment-seeking Overlord of Alastor's reputation. If anything, Lucifer feels his pride inflating at just the thought of being able to keep Alastor's attention only on himself for this long! "I thought you said they weren't fuckin'?"
"I thought that, too. Damn, how was my horny-meter that off!?"
"Do not act like you don't enjoy snuggling up beneath my wings!"
"Well, don't act as if you can keep your fingers off of my ears!"
Wait, were they accidentally revealing each other's fascination with certain features? Because Lucifer has been wanting to touch the red, fluffy ears almost as long as he'd known the man, him being annoying and antagonistic from the start or not. So does this mean Alastor would want to touch or sleep beneath Lucifer's wings? That could be arranged, the touch-starved part of Lucifer's brain informed him eagerly.
"Oh my Father, are you mad that I can wrap my hand around your waist? Is that it?!"
"Are you mad that Charlie liked my bar enough to miss it even after you added that tacky thing?"
Lucifer paused and glared at his rival. "I'm not divorcing you over aesthetics, Al."
Red on red eyes narrowed. "And I'm not divorcing you over a goddamned coaster, Lu."
The blond nodded. "Good, I'm glad we understand each other. Besides, divorce hearings are sooooooooo boring! I told you about the Goetia Prince and his screechy wife, right? Urgh!"
"Yes, I must concur," Alastor responded, picking back up his drink and sipping it. His ears were less tense and the corners of his smile had eased, meaning he was in a better mood, at least. "Any dinner preferences tonight? I might even prepare some desert~"
Before Lucifer could even begin to salivate and express his excitement and appreciation for the incoming feast he - and the rest of the staff and core group of the hotel - was undoubtedly going to glutton himself on and with desert, the power went out and the pink spider guy had to throw his phone away as it sparked alarmingly blue in the dark.
"ALASTOR, WHAT DID YOU DO NOW!?" Charlie's girlfriend's voice could be heard from the other side of the hotel but there wasn't any mischievous I-know-something-you-don't-know glint in the glowing red eyes from across from him.
Lucifer just sighed, snapped his fingers and conjured a small, harmless star to ward off the darkness.
Let there be light and all that jazz.
Actually ...
"Jazz with dinner sounds nice."
The power barely came back on before it blew all the fusses all over again.
"DAMN IT, ALASTOR!"