Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Takuma stirred awake to soft bedding that definitely didn’t belong to any room he remembered. The ceiling above him was painted like a clouded twilight sky, glittering with stars. Rich, silky sheets were tangled around him, and the mattress beneath him felt like clouds and magic combined.

He blinked and slowly sat up. The room was massive, clearly designed with the utmost care: blues and golds with touches of purples, plush velvet, glowing lanterns, artwork of the ocean framed in celestial silver. There was even a glowing constellation of a manatee spinning lazily above his bed.

“…Huh,” he croaked, voice rough.

He stumbled out of bed and wandered into the next room—a personal living room with two fainting couches, a large bay window overlooking the ocean below and, sitting in one of the high-backed chairs with a coffee mug in hand and a book in his lap, was Alastor.

His back was to the hall Takuma came from, and the mortal wondered if he could sneak up on the other.

“You’re awake.”

Never mind that then.

Takuma rubbed his eyes. “Where…?”

“The Morningstar Estate,” Alastor said, finally closing the book. “You’ve been out for a week, a coma. Lucifer healed your arm and some other injuries, but you didn’t wake up right away. We’ve been…waiting.”

Takuma padded over, his bare feet slapping against marble flooring, his limbs still heavy, and without much thought, climbed into Alastor’s lap and tucked into his side.

“Are you okay?” Takuma asked softly.

Alastor didn’t answer at first. He reached down and carded a clawed hand through Takuma’s curls.

“Are you hungry?” he asked instead. “Would you like a bath? Your hair’s a mess. We can get you cleaned up and then detangle you properly.”

Takuma narrowed his eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

“Darling,” Alastor said, his voice wry, “you’re awake. You’re in one piece. That is the only metric I measure my well-being by at the moment.”

Takuma shifted to sit up straighter. “Is everyone okay?”

Alastor shrugged, though his hand never left Takuma’s hair. “You’re okay. That’s the only person I give a damn about.”

“That’s not fair,” Takuma muttered. “You care.”

Alastor didn’t respond to that, just looked him over from head to toe, as though Lucifer’s healing magic might have missed something. His claws gently touched where his head wound used to be, now not even a scar remained.

“You shouldn’t have intervened in my battle with Adam, that was incredibly reckless.” He said after a moment.

Takuma looked at him square in the eyes. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect what’s mine.”

Alastor blinked at him, stunned for a moment.

Takuma’s voice didn’t shake when he snipped. “That means you, if you didn’t catch it.”

Alastor laughed loudly, head thrown back in utter disbelief at his child before he pulled the boy fully into his arms, crushing him in a tight embrace.

“Oh, my darling menace,” he whispered. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Too late,” Takuma mumbled.

Alastor chuckled, a soft, warbled sound. “True. Quite dead already.”

They sat there like that for a few moments, warm and quiet, until Alastor sighed again.

“You called Lucifer ‘Dad.’”

Takuma froze. “...Yeah.”

“Prepare yourself,” Alastor warned. “He’s going to be worse than me now, drowning you in affection and affection-related nonsense. I hope you like matching outfits.”

Takuma wrinkled his nose, because they already did the matching outfits back when he first summoned the King. Takuma looked at Alastor and pulled himself higher so they could meet eye to eye. “Are you mad about that?”

Alastor raised a brow. “Hardly.”

Takuma frowned. “Are you mad I’ve never called you dad?”

Alastor considered this. “That isn’t my title,” he said finally. “I’m your parent, yes. But ‘dad’…doesn’t feel quite right, does it?”

Takuma thought about it too. “No. But we’ll find the right word. Just… I want you to know I see you as one of my parents.”

Alastor smiled and brought their foreheads together. “I’m delighted to hear it.”

Takuma wasn’t done, but old anxiety told him this could ruin everything, that Alastor wouldn’t want to hear this part.

But he needed to say it, after watching Alastor almost die, “And I also want you to know, I—” he found he couldn’t look at Alastor when he said this, his teasing indulgent gaze, if it changed to disgust, Takuma wouldn’t know how to pretend it didn’t matter.

He felt so stupid, but he buried his face in Alastor’s neck when he whispered. “I love you.”

He felt Alastor tense up, and a part of him expected to be pushed away, because he took this game too far. He’d never said that to anyone, nor had he heard the words said to him.

He’d always wanted to say it to someone who mattered and who felt the same.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I wanted to say it.” He whispered.

Alastor pulled him away from his neck and Takuma couldn’t meet his red eyes.

Please don’t be mad—

Just as suddenly as his anxiety shot through the roof, it crashed as his face was smothered in kisses. He flushed and felt overwhelmed, sputtered and trying to push Alastor away.

“Wait, stop, why are you doing that?!”

“I was wrong, Lucifer will never be able to outdo me in my affections for you.” Alastor murmured the ever present radio static gone from his voice as he continued laden kiss after kiss.

“Mine, my child, my son, my flesh and blood.” Alastor declared in that dark and possessive sound when he was the Radio Demon and pulled him back in to hug him close.

“You’re really kissy for someone who was a serial killer and now feared Overlord.” Takuma pointed out, squished as he was against the demon’s collar bone.

“The only other being important enough to receive my love was my Maman. You have pushed yourself into the space I had only ever held for her, and I will never let you go. I love you too, Takuma.” Alastor replied and squeezed him closer.

Takuma squeaked out a noise of protest at the tight hug, but Alastor wasn’t hurting him, and he refused to let him go. “Mine.” He growled out.

Takuma squirmed and tried to pull back, but Alastor wasn’t moving an inch. The boy sighed and let himself go boneless in the hold, which only encouraged the demon to make happy little deer sounds and put Takuma’s head under his chin and curl up around him.

This position at least freed his hands, so he snapped his fingers, and his phone appeared in his palm. He wasn’t surprised it survived the hotel’s destruction. He went into his messages and saw Angel had sent tons of pictures and updates for when he woke up.

One stood out to him immediately though, Angel Dust had texted him to tell Alastor Vox had pictures of Takuma coming to his rescue everywhere.

“Um, Alastor?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s Vox?”

Alastor blinked and snapped his neck to look at Takuma’s phone.

“What the fuck—” Takuma yelped and dropped his phone, which Alastor took and looked through what Angel had sent for the Radio Demon.

“This is no one you should concern yourself with, literal trash that is rotting in the street that unfortunately no one wants to throw away.” Alastor replied.

“Oh wow, you really hate this guy.” Takuma blinked and reached up to touch Alastor neck in concern.

“That looks wild. Does it hurt?”

“Hm? No, of course not.” Alastor answered and growled at the screen. “Make all these go away.” He ordered and pointed at the news link.

Takuma blinked away from his broken neck and looked at the phone. “I mean, I can delete the text, but I don’t have control over the post it leads to.” He explained.

“Well, who do I contact to have this removed?” Alastor demanded.

Takuma was trying very hard not to get a kick out of the old man schtick Alastor was unknowingly playing into. “Well, whoever Vox is, I guess.”

Alastor growled again. “If I break every phone in Hell, it would be gone?”

“No, just access to it would be stopped for a while, until everybody replaced their phones or got on another device.” Takuma continued to explain.

Alastor appeared increasingly agitated. “I’ll be speaking with your father about this. Your picture should not be spread around like this until we’ve established who you are and why no one should touch you.”

Takuma really didn’t understand but hearing him call Lucifer his father again after months of not hearing it brought up more emotions and he wanted to talk about it.

“Can we forget about this for a second? I need to ask you something.” He began.

Alastor hummed and let the phone drop into his shadows. “I’m listening.”

“Hey, wait! My phone—”

“You should stay off that, it rots the mind,” Alastor lectured, “Now what did you need to speak about?”

Takuma snapped his fingers, and the phone returned to him, but he put it away for now since Alastor looked ready to chuck it. “I don’t know how to… handle Dad.”

Alastor blinked and tilted his head. “Please elaborate, darling.”

Takuma sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I missed him, but I’m… I’m so angry at him. I want to move on and just be happy but I… he left me… and I want to be mad. But… but that won’t help anything, I should just let it go, shouldn’t I?” he rambled.

Alastor grin returned to full force. “Absolutely not.”

Takuma blinked up at him, looking as lost as he felt. “But if I make a problem out of it—”

Alastor waved his hand. “No, nothing you do is a problem. You’re perfect.”

Takuma grumbled out, “Alastor…”

The Radio Demon huffed. “You truly want my advice?”

“Yes, please.” The boy replied, looking at him with trust and openness Alastor hadn’t seen since his mother.

“Make him earn what he broke. Letting him have what he wants on the back of your pain? That’s a fool’s bargain. If you offer forgiveness too early, you’ll only feel cheated—and it’ll rot. It will fester until you hate him, and then it will be worse. Better to make him beg for your mercy now than to ruin what you hope to have in the future.”

Takuma looked uncomfortable. “But—but that’s mean. And I want… I want him to be my Dad… but I also want to scream at him.”

Alastor nodded and laid his head on his wrist. “That is normal to feel when you’ve been betrayed by someone you love. Isn’t that the same feeling you had for me this last month?”

Takuma winced and shank at the thought of being as rude and nasty as he was to Alastor to Lucifer.

“But… what if he doesn’t want me after?”

Alastor sighed, he hated to see this side of Takuma rear its head. “Lucifer, despite his many terrible faults, loves you. He has not stopped loving you. He is just an absolute buffoon and needs to earn your trust back. You may love someone but expect better out of them.”

Takuma shoulders slumped and he curled back into Alastor’s chest. “I was angry at you, but I also thought it was better if you threw me away if I proved you didn’t like that part of me. Now though… I don’t want to lose you if I mess up with Lucifer, I feel like there’s a lot at stake if I ruin this, like I’ve done before.”

“That will never happen again.” Alastor promised and rubbed soothing circles between Takuma’s shoulder blades. “It was never your fault. You were the child, and they were the adults. They failed you, but that will not be your problem here.”

“I’m always too much.”

“Not to me, I could never get enough of you.” Alastor insisted.

“Considering I find your jokes funny, probably says something terrible about me.” Takuma pointed out.

Alastor chuckled and tweaked his nose. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re my child then.”

Alastor didn’t let them wallow in these thoughts much longer, he announced that this conversation was done for now and it was time to eat.

“Let’s get you washed and dressed, I’m sure the moment we step out of this room, Lucifer will know and come join us. It would help your nerves if you felt put together.” Alastor explained and went to the giant ass walk in closet.

Takuma followed behind him, timid steps as he walked into the doorway of this massive room. “A whole family could live in here.”

“Yes, I do agree. But you are a prince now, extravagance is to be expected.” Alastor replied and went to the clothes hanging from the racks.

Takuma walked around, taking it all in. He immediately spotted purple and ducked down into a see-through drawer where every type of shoe he could imagine was in his favorite color. Including his chucks.

Takuma grinned and grabbed the pair, looking up when Alastor came to stand above him.

“Yes, you’re favorite, I know. Come along now, I have your clothes, let’s get you washed quickly so I can do your hair.”

Takuma stood and, in his haste, almost fell over, Alastor grabbed his shoulder and righted him, chuckling fondly as he pushed Takuma towards the door.

Once Takuma was showered and dressed, the two argued about how his hair should look. Takuma rolled his eyes and grabbed some product that he ran through his hair quickly and then went to towel off the remaining water.

Alastor bristled and followed him back into the bathroom, taking the towel away and grabbing a blow dryer and setting up the diffuser. “Hold still, I won’t hear any more complaints.” He admonished and went to work.

Takuma grumbled impatiently as Alastor made him stand straight while he worked the air through his curls, once satisfied, the demon moved on to style them.

“You act like I’m going out, and people will see me, I’m just getting breakfast!”

“Dinner, you’re well passed even that, darling.” Alastor corrected and released his prisoner.

Takuma threw his hands up as he left the bathroom with Alastor following behind. “You put me in dress clothes and did up my hair, for nothing?”

Alastor moved him towards the door with the patience of someone who was used to these spats. “You’re not going to be sleeping any time soon, you might as well look spiffy while we get you back on a regular schedule.”

When they left Takuma’s room, everything was huge and so overwhelming, but Alastor seemed to know exactly where they were going and became his guide.

The walk was long and something kind of itched at the back of Takuma’s mind. “Hey, question.”

Alastor hemmed for him to continue.

“You hate men, why do you like me?” He asked.

There was a record scratch before Alastor looked down at him. “Pardon?”

Takuma shrugged. “You don’t hide it. And yeah, I know you didn’t want me knowing half the crap going on over the summer, but I’m not stupid.”

“I never accused you of idiocy, darling. Perhaps a touch of cynicism,” Alastor replied smoothly. “I detest men who are vulgar, crude, or lacking in manners. You, my dear, are none of those things.”

Takuma smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I get it. I guess it just made me wonder.”

Alastor side-eyed him. “Oh? Do go on, I’m all ears.” He teased, wiggling his ears for emphasis.

Takuma was so surprised he burst out laughing. When he finally smothered his giggles, he grinned and said, “It’s just… you fell for Lucifer so easily. I didn’t think that could happen.”

“I did not—”

Takuma hunched his shoulders and grinned up at him. “You did! I watched you both flirt awkwardly for months before you realized you liked each other. You flirt like old men.”

“I am old! How else am I expected to—” Alastor sputtered, then abruptly cut himself off. “No. No, I’m not dignifying this conversation any further.”

He huffed and strode ahead a few paces, boots clicking dramatically, forcing Takuma to jog a step or two to catch up with his smaller legs.

“You’re so funny,” Takuma teased, utterly unbothered.

Alastor let the complaint die in his throat, glancing sidelong at the boy’s easy smile—light, unguarded, bright.

He resigned himself to being the butt of the joke. If it kept that smile a little longer, it was worth it.

Chapter Text

The halls felt endless, walking through different turns and following beside Alastor. Takuma side-eyed the demon, the question of why they were walking and not being spirited away through his shadows on the tip of his tongue.

But Takuma was fairly certain he knew the answer and also knew it might be a sore spot.

They did happen to pass a giant glass door, which led into an enormous garden, Takuma had to stop and peak in for just a second, Alastor only allowed a small moment of indulgence before taking one of his hands and pulling him away.

The kitchen was ridiculously huge, but Alastor walked in like he owned the place. He was always so confident in everything he did, Takuma couldn’t imagine what that felt like or needing to have all the attention in the room.

The teen went and sat on the counter, because there was enough space without being in the way, Alastor smirked at him and gravitated towards the area he was. He pulled out bowls, pans and whatever half of the things one needs to cook in a kitchen.

Takuma watched, trying to take it all in, but Alastor came to a stop in front of him and Takuma blinked and only had to tilted his head slightly to look up at him.

“This is your dinner, what would you like?” Alastor inquired.

The young teen knew better than to say something like a bowl of cereal or some yogurt. “Uh, could you make those homemade biscuits again? I know we don’t have your homemade jam now, but I really like them, and those spicy peppers and potatoes.”

Alastor chuckled. “Darling, its ten o’clock at night.”

Takuma shrugged. “I guess I can just have a sandwich and some chips.”

Now the demon looked offended. “A sandwich? Chips? You wound me, my darling. Do you truly think I’d let you waste your taste buds on cold bread and bagged salt shards when you have me at your disposal?”

He stepped in closer, voice dipping into something fonder, more serious—though no less theatrical. “A sandwich is for children who’ve been abandoned to fend for themselves. You, my precious boy, have a powerful demon who cooks from scratch and kisses foreheads.” He leaned in with a sly grin. “You’ll get your biscuits.”

Takuma rolled his eyes but grinned and leaned back on his hands to wait and watch.

The timer was about to go off for the biscuits, when the door creaked open and the King of Hell shuffled into the kitchen—duck slippers, in pink pajamas with golden trim, hair rumpled, and eyes still clouded from sleep. He paused at the sight of the two.

Alastor didn’t stop whisking. “Well, well. The prodigal father returns. Sleep well in your guilt?”

Lucifer ran a hand through his wild hair, exhaling. “I felt the two of you come down here and I wanted to see you.” He snipped back before turning to Takuma, “I’m glad to see you awake, Duckling.” Lucifer smiled.

Takuma hands curled into fists, and he didn’t know what to say.

Hey thanks for healing me but fuck you?

That’s exactly what Alastor wanted him to say. But what did he want to say?

Takuma felt two very intent pairs of eyes staring at him, no one said anything, only the sound of Alastor cooking and moving around the kitchen. Lucifer stood there, watching him with a small smile and sad eyes, claws at his side like he was waiting to know what to do.

“You made a manatee constellation in my bedroom.” Takuma blurted out, frowning at himself.

Lucifer perked up and his smile grew. “Yeah, just for you. In the morning the sky is the same one over that National Park we went too, and the big bay window is pointing at Clearwater Beach.” He explained, eager to talk and moved forward.

Takuma tensed and Alastor held out his arm, stopping Lucifer with a smooth motion.

“I believe the boy has more to say than idle observations about the décor,” Alastor said, tone light but voice low.

Lucifer glanced between them, the weight of the moment settling into his spine. “Okay,” he said gently. “Say whatever you need to, Duckling. I’m listening.”

Takuma looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. “You didn’t come for me,” he said, quietly. “Not when I begged. Not when I was sent away. Not when they tried to fix me.”

Lucifer winced, visibly stricken, but said nothing.

“You let me go,” Takuma continued, louder now. “And I get it, I really do. You thought it was best. But you were wrong. And it hurt. And I don’t know how to forgive you for that yet.”

Alastor hovered close by, not touching, but close enough that Takuma could lean into him if he needed to.

Lucifer stepped back, just slightly. Enough to show he’d heard. “I know,” he said, voice rough. “I know I failed you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for it, but we’ll go at your pace, no rush.”

Takuma looked down at his lap. “You’re still my dad. I still want that.”

Lucifer’s expression flickered with something fragile—hope, maybe—but Alastor cut in smoothly.

“That’s enough of that for now, he needs to eat.” He turned, and he set a plate piled with biscuits with peppers and potatoes and a mug of tea before coming back to lift Takuma off of the counter and put him in the chair in front of his food.

The tension left Takuma’s shoulders, and he smiled up at Alastor, “Thank you.”

Alastor’s smile was fond, and he patted him on the shoulder before going and making another plate. “Will you be joining us? Or will you stand there in hideous duck slippers to offend us further?” he asked the King.

Lucifer sighed and was about to leave when a plate was offered to him, he looked up at the Radio Demon, who stared down his nose at the King, but still held the plate aloft.

The King took the plate, his claws grazing the tips of Alastor’s own, before pulling away and sitting on the opposite side of Takuma. Alastor didn’t react, just set up his plate which had raw venison as well before taking a seat next to Takuma.

“Alastor wouldn’t tell me but is everyone okay?” the mortal asked.

Lucifer perked up at being able to talk with Takuma. “Yeah, everything is fine. The hotel is coming along nicely! It’ll better than it was and—” he grinned and held up a finger for dramatic flair. “I’ll be moving in! We’re putting my penthouse across from Alastor’s and I’m drawing up the plans to have your bedroom adjoined to my penthouse.” He explained.

Alastor glared at him. “Absolutely not, he’ll be with me.” He growled.

Takuma frowned at the two. “Can I just have my room by Charlie agai—”

“No.” They both said.

Takuma rolled his eyes, “Okay, then can my room just be between the two of you? You’re both my parents after all.”

Lucifer jolted at this and looked at Alastor, who grinned smugly in return as he sipped his coffee. “Quite true, my darling. But if you have nightmares, you know my door will always be open.” He said sweetly and leaned down to kiss the top of Takuma’s head.

The jealousy rolling off of Lucifer was palpable. “I know we’re rebuilding everything, Duckling, but you should never be afraid to come to me with anything you need. I’ll be there for you.”

Alastor gave as harsh laugh. “Oh yes, you were right there when he was about to be mauled by a mountain lion— oh, but wait, that was me!” he declared with a hand on his chest.

Lucifer’s face crumbled in distress. “Duckling, why were you even out there?”

Takuma actually shot a glare at Alastor, who blinked in shock at being the one he was mad at. “I knew you had a big mouth, but I thought you could keep it shut long enough for me to at least eat.”

Lucifer’s jaw dropped at the blatant rudeness, yet Alastor looked mollified. “Apologies, darling. We won’t speak of it for now, go ahead and eat.”

Takuma was worried that this would turn awkward, that’d maybe he’d gone too far, but Alastor didn’t seem bothered at all and would never let a room remain quiet. The Radio Demon pulled Takuma into a discussion on what he wanted his room to look like at the hotel or, again, if he wanted to live in Alastor’s space. The slight needling at Lucifer got the rise he was hoping for and the two started to bickered.

Takuma watched them while he ate, he wanted honey for his biscuit though and went to get up, making the two turn and zero in.

“Did you need something, Duckling?” Lucifer asked eagerly.

“Pay him no mind, my darling,” Alastor said smoothly, waving a dismissive hand at the King of Hell. “What can I fetch for you?”

Takuma blinked. “…I was just going to grab honey and butter for my biscuit.”

Before Alastor could rise, Lucifer snapped his fingers, conjuring a cute little cup of perfectly whipped butter and a charming little jar of honey with a flourish. “There you go, kiddo,” he said and looked at Takuma with a big dopey smile.

Takuma frowned at them both but said thank you and sat back down to finish his food.

The two adults glared at each other like they were deciding whether to argue or break out the weapons. Takuma munched his biscuit and observed in silence, sipping his tea like it was none of his business—even though it very much was.

Lucifer finally broke the stalemate. “You know, I don’t recall asking your opinion on my boy’s living arrangements.”

Alastor didn’t miss a beat. “And I don’t recall ever caring about your recollections, sire. Your memory seems terribly selective.”

Lucifer’s voice dropped an octave. “Convenient enough to remember you snuck off with my child behind my back.”

“Oh, here we go,” Takuma muttered into his biscuit.

Alastor turned to him briefly with a placid smile before returning his attention to Lucifer. “Yes, how very thoughtless of me—to save the life of the boy you were too negligent to protect. Scandalous.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “That’s my son you’re talking about.”

Alastor’s grin grew serrated. “Yes. And mine. Paperwork notwithstanding, he is mine in every way that counts.”

Lucifer seemed to take this new direction better than Takuma thought he would and looked between the two of them. “Would you both like this to be official?”

The warbled sound of a radio going off cut through the tension. “… Are you offering to co-parent?” Alastor asked incredulously.

“I’m completely fine with Alastor being officially my other dad on the adoption paperwork.” Takuma answered honestly and stuffed another bite of biscuit into this mouth.

Takuma was a little offended by the stunned look Alastor sent him. “Why are you surprised by this? I literally said I loved you not forty minutes ago—”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Lucifer squawked.

Takuma had a feeling the only reason he wasn’t being horribly suffocated right now was because he was still eating.  Alastor looked at him for another minute, claws twitching before turning to Lucifer with that neck snap.

“Ugh, stop doing that!”

Alastor ignored his child and held out a claw. “Give me the paperwork to sign.”

Lucifer, looking far too pleased with himself, snapped his fingers, the paperwork flowing into existence dramatically and landing in front of Alastor. “You’ll want to read through all that first.” He cautioned.

Alastor scoffed, adjusting his monocle. “I do know how to negotiate a deal, thank you.”

The King crossed his arms and sat back. “Fuck you, you can’t even remember the deal we made.”

“Whose fault is that I wonder?” Alastor replied breezily. “You’re the one who ripped it from our memories.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to argue—but froze as Takuma leaned under Alastor’s arm to read the paperwork, and Alastor reflexively adjusted the page for him to see better. They looked natural, like a family.

Fuck, they're adorable. If only they weren’t pissed at me and Charlie were here!

A light bulb went off in his mind.

Charlie! She can help me win them back!

Chapter Text

By the time it was actually morning Takuma was napping on one of his couches with his head in Alastor’s lap, while Lucifer was stuck between feeling left out and wishing he could bottle this moment.

“I need to go help with the rebuild now, Charlie texted and said they’re all out there.” Lucifer whispered as he typed on his phone.

Alastor waved his hand in a shooing motion before laying his arm across Takuma’s shoulders, he was still diligently reading through the adoption contract. “By all means, leave us. He has me.”

Lucifer watched them and his heart ached. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth.”

Alastor didn’t look at him, “Nothing, it’s worth is nothing until Takuma feels like forgiving you.” He replied.

Lucifer watched them a bit longer, soaking up the little moment of Takuma’s soft breaths, Alastor going between his curls and tucking the blanket back whenever he shifted, and Takuma’s contented smile.

“You make a cute mom.” Lucifer purred.

The Radio Demon’s eyes widened, and as he slowly turned to look at the King, his eyes went black. “Get. Out.”

The King of Hell smirked and disappeared into a cascade of shimmering red magic.

When Lucifer reappeared, he was beside his daughter and smiled at her when she turned to him. “Good morning, Dad! How’s Takuma and Alastor?”

Lucifer couldn’t wait to tell her everything. “Good morning, Duckie! Takuma’s awake, he ate and passed back out for a bit, but you can visit him whenever you want. Alastor is still an asshole but—” and here he pulled his daughter down so he could whisper, “He makes an adorable mom, just don’t tell him that.”

Charlie had the weirdest look on her face when he said that, and Lucifer couldn’t understand why, but he pushed on. “I did actually want your help with something.”

“Oh? What about?”

Lucifer’s smile dimmed while he rolled up his shirt sleeves, his jacket and hat disappeared in a show of sparkles, getting ready to get to work. “Takuma isn’t ready to forgive me yet, and I don’t know how to help. I promised to make it up to him, but I don’t know what else I could do, and Alastor isn’t helping.”

Charlie hummed as they walked towards the rebuild. “Yeah, I don’t think Alastor would be much help right now, he’s pretty protective of TK.”

“Are we talkin’ about Radio Baby? Is he awake?” Angel interrupted and everyone around perked to hear as well.

Charlie grinned. “Yeah! TK’s awake now, maybe we can all go have lunch at the estate together and see him!”

There was a lot of excited agreement, Vaggie came over with a coffee for Charlie and they shared a quick kiss. “TK’s awake? That’s great sweetie, how is he doing, sir?”

Lucifer grimaced. “He’s healthy, he ate, but he’s still mad at me.”

Vaggie nodded and pulled out a coffee for him as well, which he took with a thank you. “Yeah, TK doesn’t trust easily, you’ve got your work cut out for you, sir.”

Charlie smiled and laid a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. “Maybe he and I can talk after lunch, I can find out what might help him feel more secure in our family.”

The King nodded eagerly, grinning at his perfect, sweet daughter. “Yes! I’ll do whatever I need to make him feel like a Morningstar! Oh, maybe a big party just for him? We’ll invite all the Sins and royalty. I’ll announce him as their new Prince of Hell!”

Both Vaggie and Charlie winced at this. “Maaaybe hold off on that one, Dad. Takuma really isn’t great with a lot of attention.”

Lucifer pouted and sipped his sugary coffee. “I know he gets overwhelmed, but a party would be fun…”

“I know, Dad. But TK isn’t much of a party person.” Charlie reasoned gently.

Angel Dust came over and again couldn’t help but interject, “Yeah, Radio Baby ain’t all about the limelight. He’s a quiet kid, Short King. But I do think he needs to be announced as your kiddo and soon, fuckin’ Vox has his picture everywhere right now. Ain’t nobody knows who our little Prince Charmin’ is.”

The Morningstar duo frowned and looked at Angel. “What do you mean?” Charlie asked.

Angel rolled his many eyes and took out his phone. “Ya’s need a PR team, I swear, do ya not check the news?” he lectured and showed the videos of Takuma running to Alastor’s aid and the shield appearing out of thin air, taking a direct hit from Adam and making the Radio Demon and Prince fall off of the roof. There were other images of a blurry Alastor holding Takuma close, which was damning in itself.

Lucifer’s expression darkened as he yanked out his phone and quickly cast a distortion hex over the images. Takuma’s face became a blur in every copy. “That’s not going to fucking fly.”

Angel raised a brow. “Smart move, Short King, but people know he’s out there now. And if Vox thinks Alastor’s got a soft spot, he’ll be obsessed.”

Charlie sighed. “We can’t hide him forever. But we do need a plan. If Takuma thinks we’re hiding him and thinks it’s because we’re ashamed…”

Lucifer frowned. “He’ll think we’re just like the others who left him.”

Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then we introduce him to the right people. Carefully. Slowly.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up with a scheming glint. “Bee and Ozzie. Maybe even Lavi. They’ll adore him—and they know how to do a proper welcome.”

Charlie laughed. “As long as they don’t throw one of their parties.”

“No raves,” Lucifer promised. “But maybe… just a little party. With a guest list under twenty.” He glanced at Vaggie. “You’re making that face.”

“I’m preemptively bracing for chaos,” she replied, sipping her coffee. “But fine. We’ll do this your way—as long as it doesn’t overwhelm the kid.”

Lucifer grinned. “He’s going to love it.”

Charlie gave him a sideways glance. “You’re just trying to one-up Alastor.”

“Is it working?”

“We’ll see,” she replied, trying not to burst his bubble, it was definitely something to talk with Takuma about.

The dining room of the Morningstar estate was, unsurprisingly, far too grand for the type of guests who came to visit. A gilded chandelier flickered with soft, ethereal flame, and the long table had been reduced to a more manageable size—still enough to seat ten comfortably. All done by Lucifer before rest arrived, Alastor and Takuma had watched him get everything ready and the Radio Demon made disapproving sounds when conjured food was placed on the table.

“You’re really picky for someone who eats raw demon meat.” Takuma teased, looking at ease for once.

Alastor scoffed, hands behind his back, still no cane in sight Takuma noted. “At least my demon meat is hunted and procured by hand. I take pride in the food I make.”

Takuma smirked. “Did you want Lucifer to beguile you with his cooking skills?”

Alastor’s shadow decided to make an appearance, Takuma was happy to see it and watched the shadow give silent snickers and offer a high-five, which Takuma grinned and returned.

“Insufferable, the lot of you.” Alastor grumped, but his smile was genuine.

“Okay!” Lucifer exclaimed and appeared in front of them, his smile was for Takuma as he clapped his hands. “C’mon Duckling, everybody’s here to see you, so you should sit at the head of the table!”

Takuma scrunched up his face, making Lucifer falter. “No? Uh, okay! How about you just sit between me and Char-Char?” he asked, his smile less excited and more stressed.

Takuma and Alastor shared a look, a silent conversation, before Takuma nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Lucifer’s smile came back at a hundred watts, Alastor’s mocking laughter made the King shoot him a glare. But then there was a notice at the door in his head and he waved his hand. “Everybody’s here!”

Takuma felt like this was a bit much for him, but from the way Alastor clung, he supposed having the mortal in a coma for a week kind of worried everybody.

Angel Dust immediately sauntered in and made a beeline for him, scooping the mortal up off the ground and hugging close. “Radio Baby!” he cooed and twirled them around.

The rest of the group came over, smiling and asking how he was. Angel put him down in the middle of their little crew, Husk ruffled his hair and gave a mumbled ‘good ta see ya kiddo’, Niffty climbed up his back and hugged his head.

“The Ultimate Good Boy is awake!” she declared and everyone laughed.

Takuma smiled and gently pried Niffty off of his head, he saw Charlie and Vaggie coming over and his smile grew but he noticed someone was missing.

“Hey, where Pen?” he asked.

The group froze and shared looks, Charlie was the one to step up with a sad smile. “Oh, Takuma, he… he died in the attack, Adam killed him. I’m so sorry you’re just now finding out.”

Takuma slowly blinked, processing this new information. Lucifer winced and bit his thumb, knowing full well this wasn’t going to earn him any brownie points. He was right, because all at once Takuma turned and glared at him and Alastor.

“I asked both of you, separately, if everyone was alright. And you forget to tell me Sir Pentious died?!” he yelled.

Lucifer hunched his shoulders and twiddled his thumbs, mumbling a sorry. Alastor scrunched up his nose and tapped a claw to his chin.

“Nope! Can’t recall anyone by that name, he must not have been very impressionable.” Alastor shrugged and smiled sweetly for Takuma.

The mortal wasn’t buying it, and his anger was zeroed in on Alastor. “I can’t believe you! I asked if everyone was okay!”

Alastor wasn’t feeling much guilt here and shrugged again. “And I told you, I only cared about your well-being, I didn’t give a damn about anyone else. That includes people who try to become my immortal enemy, who can’t even beat me in one battle.”

Takuma scowled but knew this wasn’t a fight he could win with Alastor, the demon really didn’t care, and he wouldn’t be made to care. Lucifer winced again when Takuma turned his glare on him.

“I’m sorry, Duckling! I was just so happy you were awake, and I didn’t want you to be stressed out, I just said it was all good! I promise I didn’t forget Pen, one of his little egg things did survive! Would you like to keep him? He just follows Husk around all the time, he’s kind of in the way at the rebuilding site.” Lucifer rambled, his expression anxious as he wrung his claws.

The motley crew around Takuma watched a bit stunned as this little mortal cowed the King of Hell and slightly mollified the Radio Demon—okay Alastor really didn’t care but he was giving the kid his full attention and not making threats about the kid’s audacity—they’d seen how the King was with the mortal before, but now it was like watching him try to bond with Charlie all over again.

Angel whispered to Husk, “Damn, Radio Baby’s got balls.”

Husk grunted, “No kiddin’. I wouldn’t talk to either of those psychos like that.”

Niffty beamed. “That’s why he’s the prince!”

The princess herself decided to step forward and save her dad from making more of a scene, she stepped up and placed a hand on Takuma’s shoulder. “We’re having a statue built in his honor once the hotel is done. I bet he’d have really appreciated if you took care of Frank for him.”

Takuma’s shoulders sagged and he frowned. “Yeah, I guess I can do that.”

“How lovely,” Alastor purred, the grin on his face sharp enough to cut glass.

Takuma shot them both a cold look and turned to Charlie. “Can I sit between you and Vaggie?” he asked with a smile.

Charlie grinned and hugged him close, “I’d love that!”

Vaggie came up and gently pat his head. “We really missed you, mijo.”

With this decided, everyone sans Alastor and Lucifer moved towards the table and food, talking loudly and laughing together.

Lucifer well and truly pouted, his whole being forlorn. “I said I was sorry…” he mumbled.

Alastor scoffed and grabbed his arm to pull him along. “I don’t feel sorry for you. I have to deal with that blasted egg boy for the rest of eternity.”

Lucifer, ever the opportunist, turned to look at Alastor with his sad eyes. “Will you sit with me?” he asked.

Alastor sighed and his ears sagged. “If I must.”

Lucifer waited for him to look away before he smirked and rearranged their connection into hand holding. Alastor pretended to swat Lucifer’s hand away but didn’t pull free. “You’re impossible.”

“But irresistible,” Lucifer purred.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Angel Dust watched the King of Hell walk hand in hand with Alastor to their seats. He wasn’t sure if his withdrawals were affecting his sight. The two were still bickering and sniping at each other though. He leaned into Husk’s space to ask if he was seeing the same thing.

“Don’t.” Husk hissed without looking up from his food.

“But—”

“No. I’m not drunk enough for this shit. And I don’t want any part of whatever that is.” The cat demon hissed and stuffed food into his mouth.

Angel frowned and decided to grill the little prince later for the hot gossip. “You’re no fun.”

Husk shrugged. “I like my soul in one piece.”

Chapter Text

The lunch winded down slowly, voices trailing into comfortable murmurs as everyone lingered over dessert. Takuma was never much for sweets, so quietly sat between Vaggie and Charlie while he sipped his tea, relaxed back in his chair. He looked up at the chandelier above, watching the red flames flicker yet he was clearly in another headspace.

Charlie noticed and leaned over to gently touch his arm. The contact brought him back to the present, and he smiled up at her, soft and adoring. She returned it, but gave his arm a little tug, motioning to the doors.

Takuma blinked and nodded, scooting out of his chair with Charlie and followed after her, taking her hand that she held out. They walked without a word out the door, though Alastor and Lucifer watched intently, neither moved to follow.

“I hope you’re not using your daughter to manipulate my son,” Alastor said flatly, not taking his eyes off the door.

Lucifer told himself not to rise to the bait and said instead. “Our son just woke up from a week long coma, they’re probably just going somewhere so Charlie can know if he’s really okay without you hovering.”

Alastor smile went razor sharp. “I do not hover.”

“Ha! Uh, yeah, you do,” Lucifer replied with a smirk. “He’s in the most fortified, enchanted, and magically warded space in Hell—and you still act like he’s about to die of a paper cut.”

“I don’t take lightly the loss of things I care about,” Alastor said simply. “Precious things should be close at hand.”

“Then maybe don’t call him a thing,” Lucifer muttered, finally turning to face him directly. “He’s a person. Your person, maybe, but not your possession. You start treating him like property and that kid’ll slip through your claws.”

Alastor’s grin stretched unnaturally wide, just shy of monstrous. “He is mine. That is not a statement of ownership—it is a truth of care. I claim him because I love him.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Calm down Eldritch Bitch, I’m just making an observation. What’re you gunna do when he’s announced as the Prince of Hell? Keep your involvement low key? Do you want it to be added that you’re his parent too? If you call him a thing, that he belongs to you as a possession, when he’d older that won’t fly.”

Alastor’s ears swiveled before stilling back in place, he could tell Angel and Vaggie were eavesdropping, Husk wasn’t trying very hard to stay out of this. So, the deer demon stood and turned to the King.

“Let’s take this elsewhere,” Alastor said smoothly, gesturing to a side hall opposite from where Takuma and Charlie had gone.

Lucifer shrugged and led the way, hands in his pockets with the Radio Demon at his back. When they stepped out into the hall and the King pivoted around and looked up at the other with hooded eyes.

“What did you need to say, Bambi?”

Alastor immediately felt the need for his cane so he could hit him but only straightened his jacket to smooth his ruffled edges. “You brought up my involvement in his life, and that harkens to the adoption contract I read through. I will sign it, however I want a few things changed to make my claim more real.”

Lucifer’s demeanor changed and he opened up more. “Yeah, whatever makes you feel like it’ll help dealing with Heaven when we go to take him back.”

Alastor’s shadow dropped the paperwork back into his hands, he turned over the contract as he explained. “I want a third of my own power to go to Takuma after this is signed, likewise I believe a set amount should be given to him from you instead of him accessing yours, he should have a way for his magic to be his own. Also, I believe there should be a place for Takuma to sign, so that it cements his want to be claimed when he dies. Though, my goal remains the same, to corrupt his soul, if he does go to Heaven, it would do a lot to show he read and agreed to these terms.”

Lucifer frowned, not against the idea but he did bring up his thoughts as he leafed through the sticky notes Alastor had left throughout the contract. “That would make him weaker in comparison to Charlie, if we regulated his powers.”

“It would still make him vastly stronger than any Overlord in Hell.” Alastor pointed out.

Lucifer nodded in agreement and stopped at one sticky note. “You want me to put in a clause that when he dies, I make his divine soul into a demon?”

Alastor nodded. “A divine soul in Hell is asking for trouble. You can do some sort of ritual to change him, can you not?”

Lucifer seesawed his hand. “It would take his death for sure, I can’t mess with a mortal like that, but a soul? Yeah, technically. But to make him a Morningstar, he’d have to drink my blood. I’d need something to lessen it, to be like Charlie.”

“If you need another’s blood, obviously that would be me.” Alastor countered.

Lucifer looked up at him from the paperwork. “I know you were protective before, but you do realize you’re tying more than just him to you. You’re tying yourself to the Morningstar bloodline.” He reminded the demon.

Alastor waved his hand. “Yes, I’m fully aware of how children bring families together. My interests lie in Takuma, not your affairs.”

For now, Lucifer thought, hiding a grin as he magicked the contract away. “It’s on arcane paper, bound by oath. I’ll hand-write the final copy within the week.”

“Perfect, now on to another topic, it seems Takuma’s pictures are being circulated by Vox—”

Lucifer held up a hand to interrupt. “Already took them down, or at least made every single picture not taken by us worthless.”

Alastor smile became more genuine now. “Pleasure doing business with you, sire.”

Lucifer smirked and stepped into his space. “I’d like to do more than business with you, Alastor.” He purred.

Alastor huffed and backed away. “If you believe I’m so easily tempted, you’re mistaken.”

Lucifer chuckled and gently grabbed the demon’s wrist. “Alastor, I’m the original temptation. I also know when you’re lying.”

Alastor yanked his hand free. “I meant what I said. When Takuma trusts you again, then we’ll talk. Not before.”

Lucifer tilted his head. “So… if I get his blessing, I get yours?”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. “…Yes.”

Lucifer beamed. “Perfect.” He turned on his heel, coat tails flapping as he walked off.

Alastor lingered a moment longer, the air thick with something unspoken. A sense that he’d just agreed to more than he meant to. But after replaying the words… he found no flaw.

Then why did it feel like he just doomed himself to eternal harassment?

The moment Charlie stepped through the wrought-iron arch into the garden, she heard Takuma’s quiet footsteps just behind her.

This place was nothing short of otherworldly—lush with overgrown vines that bloomed in every shade of rose and violet, fruit trees draped in silvered leaves, and clusters of flowers that hadn’t existed on Earth for thousands of years. At the very center stood a massive apple tree, its crimson fruit glistening like rubies in the soft, golden light. A fountain trickled nearby, its basin shaped like a ring of doves, the water cascading over iridescent stones.

“This… was not the garden I saw earlier.” Takuma murmured reverently as he took it in, his eyes drinking in the color and life that surrounded them.

Charlie smiled as she watched him soak it all in. “Dad made this for me and Mom a long time ago. It was meant to be his version of Eden. One place in Hell that still felt like... hope.”

“The other is for parties, more gothic and ‘Grrr look at our power’ kinda feel.”

Takuma brows pulled up as he stopped going further. “Should I be in here?”

Charlie turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“This is special to you all, I don’t want to intrude.” He hedged and stepped back.

But that wasn’t what Charlie wanted at all, she reached out and took his hand again, pulling him deeper into the Garden. She took him further back, where there was a stream of beautiful spring water filled with extinct fish and scared off birds that were resting near the cool waters. She picked him up and jumped over the brook before walking up to a tree with pretty turquoise flowers and had them sit together under it.

“This is ours, next time you can bring Alastor with you too. I’m sure he’d love it here. You’re a Morningstar, you belong here.” Charlie explained and watched an orange dragonfly zip by.

Takuma relaxed and smiled at her, leaning into her space and she did the same.

Charlie gave him time. It wasn’t silence, not really—not with birdsong, rustling leaves, and soft buzzing wings filling the air. But it felt like it.

“It smells like earth here.” He whispered.

Charlie nodded. “It took a lot of angelic magic, but Dad was able to make this pocket for us to enjoy and not be overwhelmed by Hell. I honestly haven’t been here in years, not since Mom and I moved out.”

Takuma moved to look up at her from her shoulder. “You left?”

Charlie looked down and smiled a bit sadly. “Yeah, Mom and Dad separated and divorced a while ago. Dad… he was always so distant. He was around but not really there. Mom raised me more than he did. He didn’t know how to be present, how to comfort someone without trying to ‘fix’ them. I think he thought loving someone was enough. But love without action? Without consistency? That’s not what kids need.”

Takuma’s eyes flicked to her. “Do you trust him?”

Charlie gave it real thought before she answered. “I do now. But it took a long time. I didn’t just forgive him because he said sorry—I forgave him because he started showing up for me. Again and again. Even when I didn’t ask. Even when I pushed him away.”

Takuma bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I… I sent the text asking to meet up all those months ago.” He whispered.

Charlie blinked in surprise. “Wait, what?”

Takuma ran fingers through his hair, mussing the carefully styled curls. “I thought that if I helped Lucifer rebuild his relationship with you, he’d introduce us and if I met you and made sure I was perfect, that I sold you my best me, you’d both want to keep me around…” he blinked and rubbed at his eye quickly. “I’m so sorry I tricked you. But I’m not sorry I did it, because I got to meet you, and I’m really happy about that.”

Charlie mouth hung open as she listened, before she yanked him in and hugged him close, ruffling his hair and completely ruining all Alastor’s hard work. “You sly little fox!” Charlie laughed, genuine awe in her voice.

“Ack!” Takuma yelped, jabbing her side. She squeaked in surprise and immediately counterattacked, turning the quiet moment into a tickle fight, the two rolling down the small hill away from the tree.

When they finally called a silent truce, they with panting and staring at the fake sky, a powder blue with perfect fluffy white clouds.

“What if I can’t forgive him?” he asked quietly.

Charlie caught her breath and answered. “Then don’t. Not until you’re ready. It’s not your job to make him feel better. It’s his job to earn your trust.”

Takuma’s lip trembled, and his voice turned small. “What if I do forgive him… and he leaves again?”

Charlie sighed and grabbed his hand in hers. “Then I’ll be there. Alastor will be there. You’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to carry that fear by yourself.”

She squeezed his hand and added, “You can take your time. You can be angry. You can love him and still feel hurt. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

Takuma didn’t say anything for a long time, just held tight to her hand like a lifeline, watching multi-colored bees fly by overhead.

“…He made a manatee constellation for me,” he mumbled.

Charlie smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“I liked it.”

“I’m glad.”

“I don’t know how to reconnect with him.”

Charlie tilted her head thoughtfully. “Is there something you miss doing with him? Even something small?”

Takuma was quiet for a while just thinking. “I liked sharing tea in the sun-room, eating tiny sandwiches. I liked when he started teaching me violin.”

Charlie nodded and pushed herself up to lean over him with a smile. “Okay, then here’s the plan; We have picnics here with Alastor and Dad, give you some buffer between the two of you and once the hotel is rebuilt, we can do tea in the solarium again and once you feel comfortable, you and Dad can do one-on-one time for violin lessons. It gives you a plan, no goals to reach, no big timetable, just something to work with. If you think of more things you want to do, you tell Dad, and he’ll do it. If you want to be left alone, you tell him that too! I have your back, TK.”

Takuma gave a timid smile and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Charlie gave a big grin and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “And! Once the hotel is back in business, we can all do trust exercises together!”

The mortal chuckled at the thought of forcing the King of Hell and Radio Demon into those. “Yeah, I’m game.”

The Princess pumped her fist in excitement before flopping down so her head was beside his, close enough she could turn her head and their noses would touch.

“Hey, TK, question.”

“I may have an answer.”

Charlie chuckled and asked. “Are Alastor and Dad… weird about each other? Like, outside the rivalry and soul ownership stuff.”

Takuma nodded. “Oh yeah, I’m pretty sure they want to fuck.”

Charlie gasped and moved so quickly Takuma thought she might get whiplash. “Takuma! You’re not supposed to know that stuff!”

Takuma looked up at her in confusion. “I’m thirteen and go to public school. I know what a top and bottom are and patiently wait for the day I can torment Alastor about which he is, purely for the revenge of dressing me like a Victorian child half the time.”

Charlie choked on her own spit. “You’re supposed to be innocent!”

Takuma laughed at her. “I fooled you!”

“Aww but you were so cute and adorable.”

Takuma shrugged and smirked up at her. “But I’m not, I’m a little shit who was the one who replaced Angel Dust’s sugar for salt after he switched my hot sauce with watered down ketchup.”

Charlie was so stunned she didn’t know what to say at first. “You really are a menace, just like Alastor calls you.”

Takuma didn’t reply, just grinned big and proud and suddenly rolled to his feet. “Still want a menace for a little brother?” he asked, but it was teasing this time, not a genuine question.

Charlie looked at him, really looked at him. He wasn’t what she thought, but so much more. Sweet and thoughtful, yet a troublemaker in clever ways.

She loved it.

“Fine, but only if you promise to use your powers for good.”

“Good? No promises. Just don’t mess with my hot sauce.”

“Deal.”

The plates had been cleared, the laughter slowly faded, and the dining room began to empty out. Angel Dust offered one last ruffle to Takuma’s hair before following Husk and Niffty through a portal back to the hotel. Vaggie kissed Charlie’s temple and whispered something in her ear before stepping through after them.

Takuma stood near the now-quiet table, watching the last of the group vanish in shimmering light.

“…Why can’t I help?”

Lucifer, who had been straightening his cuffs unnecessarily, paused. “Because—” He looked at Takuma and hesitated, his voice softening. “It’s not safe right this minute, Duckling. There are still unstable zones in the ruins, and too many exorcists’ remains still being uncovered. I promise, once it’s secure—really secure—you’ll be right there with us.”

Takuma’s brows furrowed. “But I’m not glass, y’know. I can help.”

“I know you can.” Lucifer smiled gently and stepped closer, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And you will. Just not today.”

Takuma frowned and crossed his arms. “You sound like Alastor.”

Behind him, Alastor cleared his throat. “While I’m flattered, I believe I have quite a bit more flair.”

He approached with the practiced nonchalance of someone who very much had been listening in the entire time. He rested his hand lightly on Takuma’s back and leaned just slightly to the side, his smile widening. “Besides… if we leave the heavy lifting to the others, that means more time for us to get into trouble.”

Takuma blinked up at him.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘trouble.’”

Alastor bared his teeth in something too wide to be a polite grin. “Only the best kind. Music. Mystery. Mischief. Perhaps a spot of grave robbing if we’re feeling adventurous.”

Lucifer groaned. “You are not taking our kid grave robbing.”

Takuma perked up. “We wouldn’t be stealing, we’d be investigating.”

“See? The boy has imagination.” Alastor chimed.

Lucifer shot him a look. “So help me, if he ends up with a cursed relic—”

“Oh relax,” Alastor purred, already beginning to lead Takuma toward the hallway. “If anything, it’ll be charming.”

Takuma gave Lucifer a sidelong glance as he followed Alastor, mischief brewing just under the surface. “I’ll be careful, promise.”

Lucifer watched them go, hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. “He gets that from both of us. That’s the problem.” Before disappearing into the portal

The Hall of Divine Accord was carved from clouds and light, a cathedral of radiance suspended in eternal dawn. Crystal arches shimmered above as choirs hummed softly in the distance, a peace that did little to calm the storm brewing within its walls.

Lute stood in the center of the chamber, white-hot fury bleeding from every inch of her stiff wings. Her arm was gone and replaced by a halo of concentrated light that moved like a real hand and swept around her. “Adam was slaughtered,” she hissed. “By sinners. Demons. By Lucifer. And you tell me to stand down?!”

Sera, High Seraphim and commander of Heaven’s host, stood at the far end of the hall with her hands clasped before her, luminous robes flowing like smoke and starlight. She did not blink. “I am telling you to listen. We mourn Adam… but we will not descend into another war driven by pride.”

“Pride?” Lute’s voice sharpened to a blade. “He died upholding the purpose we were given. Cleansing evil—”

“He found joy in the slaughter,” Sera cut in, soft but unshakable. “Joy in destruction. In pain. That is not justice. That is not mercy.”

Other Seraphim stood in a ring around them, watching silently. No one stepped in.

Sera’s gaze remained fixed on Lute, calm but resolute. “Sir Pentious was redeemed. Fully. His soul made it through Hell with remorse and sacrifice intact. That should not be possible… and yet it happened.”

Lute’s lip curled. “A fluke.”

“No.” Sera shook her head. “A revelation. A soul once claimed by Hell can still find the light. Which means our understanding—our mission—has been incomplete.”

The weight of that truth sank into the chamber like a stone. Even the distant choir grew silent.

“I refuse to believe this,” Lute spat. “I will not believe that Adam died for nothing.”

“His death is not meaningless,” Sera said, stepping forward now, wings expanding ever so slightly. “But it was wrong. He refused to believe change was possible. He condemned all souls without trial or care. That is not our calling. That is not Heaven.”

Here she stopped, sighed and looked stricken with grief. “I refused to believe change was possible. I condemned all souls without trial or care. I take full responsibility, and I plan to make this right.”

Lute shook with restrained fury. “You’ll let them mock us. You’ll let them live.”

Sera’s expression softened just a fraction, but her words did not waver. “I will let them prove us wrong. And if redemption is truly possible, I will not become the next angel who turns salvation into execution.”

Lute trembled in place. Then her wings flared. “I won’t stand by and do nothing.”

“You will stand by the law,” Sera warned, voice still calm, but thunder lurked beneath. “Or you will fall the way Adam did.”

The threat lingered in the air, and Lute knew it was no bluff.

For now, she turned and stalked from the chamber, the light around her dimming in her wake. Sera exhaled once, quietly, then turned back to the Seraphim and Saints behind her.

“We have new laws to write,” she said. “And old mistakes to atone for.”

Emily squealed from her spot next to Sir Pentious, who looked unsettled. “I’m so excited! I have to call Charlie!”

Chapter Text

The room is dimly lit by the glow of multiple screens, each displaying static or distorted images. Vox stands before a large monitor, his screen face flickering with frustration. He holds a printed side profile of Takuma, captured mid-run towards Alastor during the recent battle, paper copy was all he had now, even if he tried to digitize this one, it distorted on upload.

Valentino came in with a drink, leaning against his back and kissing his shoulder. “Penny for your thoughts?” he purred and noticed the picture, taking it to get a better look.

Vox’s voice crackled to life, filled with irritation. “This kid... Who the hell is he? Runs to Alastor's aid like some kind of hero. And now, thanks to Lucifer's damn hex, all digital traces are gone. This is the only image I managed to salvage."​

Valentino sipped his drink and lean on one of the panels next to him. “Whoever he is, he’s pretty. Blue eyes aren’t something you see down here.”

“Exactly, before the fucking King got involved, I ran his face through my systems, and I couldn’t him anywhere.”

Val shrugged and finished his drink to turn back to his cigarette. “Could this be why Alastor slunk off for seven years after that fight you two had? Leaving to hide with his niño after almost dying would explain a few things.’

Vox scowled. “I would have known if he was hiding a fucking baby, Val.”

Val blew out a plume of smoke. “Not if he’s also Lucifer’s brat.”

Vox’s screen glitched and he fizzled for a moment. “I’d think I would have known if Alastor was fucking pregnant!”

Val chuckled and looked at the picture again. “Well, he doesn’t look like either of them, so I could be wrong. Let me grill Angel Dust, see what I can pry from him.” He offered and handed the paper back.

Vox took it and glared at the boy. “Whoever he is, I want him. I’m going to make Alastor wish he’d stayed in hiding with his precious kid once I’m through with him.”

Val purred happily, sauntered to the door. “When you’re done with him, give him to me. Keep that face pretty and I could make some good movies with it.” He laughed.

The Hazbin Hotel stood tall again, nearly whole.

With scaffolding vanishing and enchantments settling into the walls like breath exhaled after a long illness, it was beginning to look like itself. The chandelier sparkled above the lobby once more, every crystal gleaming like a promise. Life was creeping back in—voices, laughter, piano music in the distance.

Takuma was in the gardens, sprawled across a wrought-iron bench sketching the koi-lizard hybrids that flopped lazily in the trickling fountain. He hummed softly, enjoying the red glow of the sun after being locked away in the estate for a week, not counting the time he slept for.

Alastor stood nearby, taking in the touches of Lucifer’s magic, enchantments meant to keep the acid rain out. Lucifer popped up through one of his portals and smiled at him.

“Come with me for a moment,” he’d said to Alastor, voice casual, hands tucked in his coat pockets with all the grace of a man who wasn’t hiding something.

Alastor looked over at Takuma, who waved them away as ever the eavesdropper, before the Radio Demon sighed and followed, ever the picture of composure, though his eyes narrowed slightly. The new penthouse was located on the left side at the very top of the hotel—private, secure, and wrapped in an opulence, only a King of Hell would call it subtle. On the other side was Lucifer’s penthouse and situated in the middle of the two was Takuma’s suite, connected by a door on each side.

Lucifer waited for him to come through the portal before leading the way to Alastor’s new room. He opened the door and Alastor stepped through and immediately gave Lucifer a flat look.

“You’ve dragged me away from an afternoon of peace with our boy. This had better not involve matching suits or blood rituals.”

Lucifer smirked, arms spreading as if to welcome him into a grand unveiling. “No rituals. No suits. Just something I wanted to show you.”

He led Alastor to the far side of the suite, where a massive archway opened into what looked, at first glance, like an illusion. Mist curled low across shadowy water. Cypress trees rose in the distance, their roots twisted around ruins of stone and memory. The buzz of real bugs flew within the confines of the bayou, never leaving the boundary.

Alastor froze.

This wasn’t just some cheap conjuring, either—this one pulsed with depth, with life, as if you could walk right in and never find the edge. Something Alastor had only ever dreamed of achieving, he’d been close, but couldn’t make it come to life.

Lucifer didn’t pretend to be coy.

“I’ve been working on this since before the attack. I know the version you conjured for yourself… it helps, but it’s still an illusion. I wanted to give you something real. A true pocket dimension. Anchored. Permanent.”

Alastor’s gaze sharpened, though his smile never wavered. “Trying to win my affection with swamp water and bugs?”

Lucifer shrugged, eyes gentle. “Yes. And also… as a gesture. No deals. No strings. Just something I wanted you to have.”

Alastor slowly approached the threshold. His shadow curled forward curiously, brushing the edge of the spellwork. It shimmered under their touch.

“You’re giving me my home,” he said, so quietly it might’ve been a question.

Lucifer nodded. “As real as I can make it. One that doesn’t vanish when your focus slips. One Takuma can step into, if you want him to.”

Silence stretched between them like the long hush before a storm. Alastor’s smile had softened, and he turned to face Lucifer fully.

“This doesn’t earn you forgiveness.”

“I didn’t ask for it,” Lucifer replied. “Only that you know I mean what I say.”

Alastor’s eyes glittered, distant and dark. “…Then I’ll remember that you tried.”

Lucifer stepped up to stand beside him. “I haven’t put the finishing touches yet. Like real animals and whatnot. Did you have anything in mind?”

Alastor didn’t waste time and walked ahead. “Yes, I want gators in the front waters, I want this locked down so if anyone tries to step through without my express permissions, they’ll get lost and never find a way out unless I will it. I also want a house built. Come along, if you’re going to earn your forgiveness, I suppose I should give you a place to start.”

The King of Hell grinned and joined him, walking along and listening to the bayou around them and Alastor nitpick things that weren’t exactly right. Lucifer committed everything to memory on what to change and what to add.

When they come upon a hill that overlooked a large body of water, surrounded by cypress trees covered in moss and other fauna, Alastor stopped.

“I want the home placed here, do I need to create a blueprint, so you know what to make?” he asked.

Lucifer hummed and looked around. “You could, or I could use your imagination and create it right now.”

Alastor looked perplexed. “And how would that work?”

Lucifer smiled sweetly and instantly made Alastor suspicious. “Just a point of contact, our magics would connect and you can direct it where you want it.”

“So, handholding.” Alastor assumed and held out his claw.

Lucifer came up and took both his clawed hands, stepping up close and leaning so they were touching. “A little more than handholding, usually if I’m doing this, I’m intimate with the other person, but I won’t force a kiss with you. Just touch your forehead to mine.”

Alastor flushed bright red, but the temptation on what he was about to be given was bigger than his embarrassment. He leaned down and he felt his forehead connect with Lucifer’s and the magic filled his being.

Is this what Takuma feels? How can he not take advantage of this?

The moment Alastor's forehead touched Lucifer’s, the magic ignited like a struck match.

It wasn’t fiery or painful—no, it was immense, an ocean of golden warmth and impossible potential surging between them. It flooded Alastor’s senses, not with chaos but with clarity, giving form to memory and imagination alike. He saw every corner of the home he'd once wandered as a boy, and every dream he’d added to it since. Each detail flickered like fireflies behind his eyes—wooden slats aged just enough to creak when walked upon, porch screens to keep out the bugs, a rocker by the window that would catch the breeze just right. He saw lanterns swaying with low light, polished doorknobs that clicked with satisfaction, the faint sound of jazz curling through open windows at dusk.

He also saw Takuma’s room—tucked off the hall, sunlit and full of shelves for books and sketchpads. The kind of room a child stayed in. Permanence was etched into its beams.

Lucifer held him steady—not guiding, not pressing, only lending access. He didn’t speak, but he saw it too. All of it. And for once, he said nothing smug. Only shared the weight of the vision like it was sacred.

When Alastor finally pulled back, breathless in spite of himself, the house stood behind him—real. Nestled perfectly into the rise of earth overlooking the water, with that wraparound porch, and windows like dark, watchful eyes.

Lucifer took a half-step back, giving Alastor the space to process what had just been conjured into existence.

“…It’s perfect,” Alastor said at last, voice reverent and almost reluctant. “It smells like cypress. The boards creak in the right way.”

Lucifer’s lips twitched. “Of course they do. I may be a showman, but I’m thorough.”

Alastor looked back at him. “You’re also manipulative, reckless, and absurdly proud.”

“Yes.” Lucifer smiled faintly. “But you still touched foreheads with me. Progress, no?”

Alastor sent him a sly smile and motioned for him to follow up to the house. “My stance hasn’t changed, Lucifer.”

Oh, but you’re back to saying my name now.

Lucifer fell into step with the other and walked through the door when Alastor held it open. The living room was small but cozy, with furniture that looked like it was pulled out of magazine catalog decades ago, past the living room was the kitchen overlooking the water, a slightly updated fridge that was run on magic to keep it cold but otherwise all appliances fit the time frame Alastor lived in.

“From now on, you’ll be removing your shoes at the door.” Alastor said with reproach, but his eyes were soft as he took in the old fireplace and rug.

Lucifer blinked and looked back at him. “I get to come too?”

Alastor didn’t look at him at first, his expression warring with deceptive nonchalance or his genuine gratitude for what Lucifer made for him.

“You are his other parent, if Takuma has need of you, I suppose you should be allowed to visit.” He answered.

Lucifer grinned and was in his space immediately. “I couldn’t help but notice you made your room with a king size bed.” He purred.

Alastor glared down his nose, but his blush was back in full force. “I like the space.”

The King chuckled and rested his chin on Alastor’s chest as he looked up at him. “So do I, perfect amount of space to cuddle.”

Alastor sighed and brushed him off, moving around him to go back to the front door. “You don’t know how to quit.”

Lucifer followed behind, content with what he’s accomplished. “Why would ever quit? I have a lot to make up for, don’t you know.” He teased and stepped out the door.

Alastor looked back once more, a feeling swelling in his chest at being able to share this with Takuma. A part of him felt bittersweet that his Maman wouldn’t be in the kitchen to greet them, but he was still grateful for this slice of home.

Lucifer opened a portal on the steps up to the porch and Alastor went through, finding Takuma now slouched on the bench reading one of the mystery novel Lucifer had gifted him earlier.

Alastor noticed he didn’t even twitch at their presence and hummed in displeasure. “I hope that book is worth your life.” He lectured.

Takuma blinked slowly, coming out of the world he was reading to look up at him. “Huh?”

Alastor tsked. “You’re in Hell, darling, try and pay attention around you.”

“Dad warded this place, not even those drones can come in now.” Takuma said matter-of-factly, trying to go back to his book.

Lucifer frowned and stepped up. “Now that’s no way to talk to your Mom—” he stopped and stuttered, old habits of years ago with Charlie had bubbled to the surface.

Takuma was no longer entranced by his book, he looked up sharply and saw Alastor’s eyes go black, Lucifer stammered out apologies.

Takuma lost it.

He burst out laughing, loud and breathless, the book forgotten as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Tears started to bead in the corners of his eyes. “Oh my God!”

Lucifer was trying not to smile but found his laughter infectious. “The denizens of Hell usually say Satan, but its cool, you can be blasphemous towards your creator all you want.”

Alastor rounded on him. “Oh yes, correct that part!”

Lucifer put both hands up. “It slipped! Old habit—Charlie—look, I didn’t mean it like that—”

Takuma continued to lose himself to laughter, having to hold onto the bench so he didn’t slip off. “Oh my God. You— you said Mom.” He looked at Alastor, eyes shining. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“I was there,” Alastor said with cool venom, his ears back and his face rosy. “I am still here. Enduring it.”

“I think it’s cute,” Takuma said, grinning as he wiped his eyes. “You can’t even deny it anymore. I told you—you’re the mom.”

“I have denied it repeatedly, and will continue to do so,” Alastor replied stiffly, adjusting his collar with all the composure of a man being forced to admit the sky was blue. “And for the record, I do not appreciate being misgendered.”

Lucifer winced. “He’s really mad.”

Takuma stood and stumbled over to hug Alastor’s side and look up at him from his waist. “You do all the hair brushing. You carry snacks. You literally cut crusts off my sandwiches.”

“I am simply efficient,” Alastor muttered, pulling him closer despite his protests. “And you become insufferable when underfed.”

Lucifer stepped closer, folding his arms with a bright, amused grin. “You know, ‘Mom’ doesn’t sound so bad on you. If the gloves fit…”

Alastor turned his glare on the King, voice as sweet as syrup and twice as lethal. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll make you earn your immortality.”

Takuma cackled.

Lucifer winked.

But after the laughter faded, Takuma glanced up at both of them, still smiling but softer now.

“...I don’t mind it, you know.” He looked at Alastor, eyes fond and sincere. “You are like a mom. Or whatever version of that fits, I don’t have to say mom. I mean, you’re still Alastor, still you. But you take care of me. You always do.”

Alastor was quiet for a moment, then adjusted his monocle unnecessarily. “Yes, well. Someone has to ensure you survive your own chaos.”

Lucifer chuckled and reached to ruffle Takuma’s hair. “I’ll just make sure your mom gets a crown for that.”

Alastor batted Lucifer’s hand away and his grin dipped at the edges into an almost scowl. “Say it again and I’ll personally see to it your crown is melted down into bottle caps.”

Takuma just smiled wider, nestling into Alastor’s warmth and giggling into his jacket, completely at ease between his two chaotic, overpowered, emotionally-stunted-but-trying parents.

High above in Pentagram City, in the Vee tower, Vox paced.

The room pulsed with the soft flicker of monitors—dozens of them—each screen locked onto a blurry section of the Hazbin Hotel’s Garden, perimeter, and upper tower levels. A distorted, static-covered figure lounged on a wrought-iron bench, and beside him, another figure—a taller one, all shadowed angles and impossible clarity, yet still rendered into indistinct shapes by Lucifer’s hex.

Vox zoomed in, again and again. Still no clean shot.

“Damn you, Lucifer.” He muttered, tapping the edge of the screen with one claw. “Putting a blackout hex around the whole hotel? That’s new, real classy.’

He leaned closer, squinting at the childlike blur sitting beside the taller distortion. There was laughter, soft movement—but no sound. He could barely make out the shape of a book, the flick of a wrist, a laugh that jostled the kid’s shoulders. The taller blur reached out, gently pulled him closer.

They were close. Too close.

Vox bared his teeth in a frustrated grin.

“So, Val might’ve been right.” He clicked his tongue and watched the screen crackle again with magical interference. “Little brat really is his. Or something damn near close.”

The drones couldn’t give him more than this, and after a while the hex fizzled them out. No facial scans. No voice prints. Just behavior. But behavior told stories. Alastor didn’t get close to people, didn’t pull them close unless it was to hurt or manipulate.

And yet, here they were. Side by side. Always together. The kid moved like he belonged there. Like he wasn’t scared of Alastor at all.

Vox switched feeds, watched another drone’s footage—weeks old now—of the shield bursting into existence between Alastor and Adam’s attack. The boy stepping into the path and the fall.

The kid’s stance and the way Alastor caught him midair, no hesitation, like instinct. The way he cradled him after the fall.

“Didn’t think you had it in you, old pal. Raising a brat right under my nose.” Vox seethed with a nasty smile.

“Can’t wait to see what you do when I’m through with him.”

Chapter Text

The hotel was in working order within the next few days, with Lucifer’s magic and the help of everyone else, the whole area looked better than ever before. Brand new and shiny, rooms with upgraded toilets and shower heads with actual water pressure.

Everything had been going so well, of course Takuma’s self-doubt and anxiety had to pop up and ruin it.

Well, ruin it for himself, he pulled in all his pieces and made sure to present an easy front. Those old habits don’t just evaporate because you get hugs and kisses from a demon.

No, a child with deep traumas was never going to come out unscathed and whole on the other side of the adoption. All the reassurance in the world couldn’t stand up against years showing how nothing lasts forever and a little mind needing to protect itself from more harm and anguish pushed the need to survive and hide to the forefront.

But like Hell Takuma wanted to voice this, he knew it was a lot, he knew it caused sad faces and pity with an extra dollop of smothering. Takuma really didn’t want anymore smothering though, he was starting to feel overwhelmed by it all. Going years in a world of apathy and neglect, always watching what he could have and getting the opposite has done nothing for his nerves to handle this sudden onslaught of love and affection.

Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t this make me better?

His thought whirled with this same mantra of hurt. All this love being poured on him, how he’d stay awake in the middle of the night when he was small praying for someone to love him like this and make the pain go away and to never be alone again, yet now he had it and he could barely handle it. He felt so ungrateful that he was botching this healing journey. Because obviously he wasn’t trying hard enough if it wasn’t better yet.

Alastor had senses like a predator, he could always sense something amiss, but Takuma just brushed it off as being drained.

Yeah, that was another thing, that adoption contract was a lot. They really were planning to keep him past eternity and now he had actual powers. It was so weird to feel, because it wasn’t a snap of his fingers and he had bottomless magic, it was something coming from within and it manifested as cold and icy, he could frost up windows, nothing hot hurt anymore and the heat of Hell didn’t bother him at all, in fact he was wearing sweaters more and more.

Alastor had pulled into his bayou, given him a book he’d said was older than himself and to read it until his eyes hurt and then read it again.

All of it was a lot and then you add on how broken he already was, he could feel the lethargy creeping in, the need to curl up in bed and shut out the world and wallow in his own self-pity. But what did he have to pity himself for? He had everything he ever wanted!

He was just ungrateful, and he needed to cut that shit out.

But when Alastor apologized to him one more and said he had an Overlord meeting and he’d be gone for most of the day, and when Charlie and Vaggie were busy with some news from Heaven and said they’d be back later, Angel Dust had to go to work, just worked out for him to hide away and let himself unravel for a bit.

He went up to his new room, Lucifer had modeled it exactly like the one in the estate, including the big bay window overlooking the ocean and the manatee constellation at night, he grabbed the apple scented blanket that Charlie had found in the rubble along with his plush and he sat down on the floor with his back against the bed and he just cried.

Because everything was so good and so wonderful, it couldn’t last, not for someone like him, not for someone who’d always heard there was something not quite right about. This was too much, and when he lost it again, he didn’t think he’d be able to recover this time, and it was so scary to think about what he had to do next if they all disappeared again.

He wanted their love, he wanted their hugs and kisses, but would he get to keep it? Would they want to keep him for all of eternity if he never got better?

So here he sat, in his darkened room with calming magic making his room smell of lavender and vanilla, with a manatee made of stars floating around and the sound of waves outside a window, crying and being ungrateful and worthless.

Takuma wasn’t sure how long he sat there in the silence, quiet sobs as his shoulder shook, surrounded by the first comforting smell he’d ever associated with safety, when his ear picked up on the rustling of fabric and the soft step of boots on plush carpet. He had a horrible knack of knowing whose steps were who’s, learned from years of knowing when to hide from certain footsteps coming his way, to know it was Lucifer.

His body alerted him to the fact Lucifer crouched down in front of him but hadn’t touched Takuma yet. The boy peaked up from his curled position, under his blanket and holding tight to the plush like a lifeline.

There was no big grin, no anxious air of trying to win his attention or forgiveness, just red eyes met him and softened to understanding but still his claws stayed in his lap.

“Oh, baby boy, is it a bad day today?” he asked softly, as though any louder would disturb the peaceful air around them.

Takuma felt fresh tears come up and he just nodded, he didn’t know how to explain, he wanted to say sorry but only a sob came out.

Lucifer still didn’t touch him, but he moved from his crouch to sit and lean back on his hands. “I know those days, they take a lot out of you. You’ve been a very brave boy. Do you want to tell me anything? It doesn’t have to be about what you’re feeling, but I’m here to listen if you just want to let it out, even if it’s just to cry.”

Takuma held his eye as he tried to process, Lucifer never looked away and his expression never turned to pity, just soft and loving.

“I feel ungrateful.” He whispered and licked his lips. “I feel like everything is too much, but it’s also never enough.”

Lucifer hummed. “What’s never enough?”

“I want your and Alastor’s attention, I want your affection and hugs. I want to be wherever you are all the time, be near you all the time. But then it feels like my nerves are on fire, because it’s all too much touch, not enough space. But I don’t want you to go away, I want Alastor to hold me still, even if it hurts, because what if I lose it and I missed out?”

Lucifer nodded along. “What are you going to miss out on?”

Takuma squeezed the plush tight. “Alastor can’t want me forever, he’ll get bored of me. You’ll get bored with me. So, I need to soak it all up now, even if it hurts, so I have good memories for later, when I’m alone again.”

Lucifer listened without interrupting, his eyes never once straying from Takuma’s face.

He let a long breath go, not a dramatic sigh, but a weary one, like someone exhaling a truth they’d carried too long.

“… I know that feeling, Duckling.” His voice was quiet, “Not exactly, not in your shoes. But I know what it’s like to want everything good so badly, you suffocate yourself with it. To take in love like its air and still feel like you’re drowning.”

Takuma blinked, startled, and looked up at him fully now. Lucifer gave him a soft smile.

“I’ve lived a long time with the weight of what I’ve done. Created to be something yet unable to fulfill now, leaving a hole I’ve tried to fill with other things. Being the most hated being in all of creation when I was the one who helped create it, when I just wanted to give freedom to choose. It weighs you down and makes you believe the love of others will fade like everything else.” He paused, eyes growing distant. “And I’ve done my share of hiding. In my workshop, behind my ex-wife, my powers. Even behind Charlie’s brightness.”

Takuma watched him quietly, clutching his plush tighter.

“But here’s what I want you to know, Takuma. You are not ungrateful. You are not broken.” Lucifer leaned towards him, legs crossed, elbows resting on his knees now. “You are someone learning how to carry love when all you’ve ever known is the fear of losing it.”

His voice dipped lower, warmer. “And you will wobble. You’ll feel overwhelmed. You’ll think you’re too much, and sometimes not enough. That’s okay. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. That doesn’t mean we’ll stop loving you.”

Takuma sniffled. “But it makes it hard to enjoy it. I keep thinking I’ll mess up or ruin it. That being happy is just the step before the fall.”

Lucifer leaned forward, gently resting a clawed hand on the blanket near Takuma’s knee—not touching him, but close. “Happiness… it’s not a straight line, Duckling. Sometimes it’s two steps forward, five back. And sometimes, it’s just sitting in the dark and knowing someone’s willing to sit with you until the light comes back.”

He gave another soft little smile. “I’ve succumb many times into my own darkness. There were centuries I didn’t think anything would feel good again. But Charlie reminded me. And then you reminded me.”

Takuma bit his bottom lip before he asked. “I did?”

Lucifer’s smile widened just a touch. “Yes. You made me want to try again. To be better, for both of you. Not because I had to earn love—but because you gave it freely. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

He leaned in slightly now. “You’re not alone, Takuma. Not in this, not in your thoughts, not in this hurt. Alastor and I—we’re not going anywhere. If you need space, we’ll give it. If you need to be held, we’ll be there. If all you need is quiet and someone to guard the silence with you, we’ll do that too.”

Takuma wiped his face on his sleeve. “Even if I never get better?”

Lucifer shook his head slowly. “You don’t have to ‘get better’ to be loved. You already are. Fully. Messily. Completely.”

Then, after a heartbeat, his voice gentled even further. “And if the world ever tries to make you forget that—well, I’m still the King of Hell. I’ll have a word with it.”

That pulled a small laugh from Takuma, just a broken little breath of amusement, but it was real. Lucifer smiled again and offered his hand—not pressing, just open.

“I can stay here with you, if you want. We don’t have to talk more. I’ll just be here. You don’t have to hold it all alone.”

Takuma looked at him for a long moment before crawling forward under his blanket and resting against Lucifer’s side.

Lucifer wrapped an arm around his back, gentle and firm. “That’s my brave boy.”

The Overlord meeting was held in Carmilla’s headquarters as before. This one had the tinge of apprehension with the knowledge of a failed extermination, the death of the first man and Lucifer’s involvement. This was to be expected and while Takuma slept, Alastor, the King, Charlie and Vaggie had agreed on what needed to be said. If this had been before Takuma, he’d have been frustrated at the thought of not being allowed to sew some chaos, but now he actually had something to protect, hidden away in the blasted hotel.

He did keep his current handicap to himself, Lucifer already owned his soul he wasn’t going to owe him more, and Charlie and Vaggie would have tried to go in his stead, which was absolutely not happening.

His shadows still obeyed, his power was still present, but with a third given to Takuma and his biggest source broken, there was no reason to start a fight today. Just follow the plan and get back to the hotel.

As he came out of the elevator, he had the unfortunate vision of Vox waiting for him.

Vox was indeed waiting for him, because when the Radio Demon stepped out into the hall, Vox smiled and followed him as Alastor blatantly ignored him.

“Hey there Alastor, long time no see.” Vox greeted him as though they were long time friends.

Alastor didn’t pause. “Go short-circuit in traffic, Vox.”

“Now, now,” Vox cooed, falling into step beside him, “no need to get prickly. Can’t an old friend see how you’re doing? That was a close call with Adam, he almost fucked you up. Thank Satan that kiddo of yours stepped up, huh?”

“I would tread very carefully,” Alastor said, voice silken and hollow. “You’re skirting the edge of a very sharp frequency.”

Vox didn’t flinch. “Hey, no need to get hostile, we’re all just trying to survive! I am in the business of information, and with the King’s little hex, nobody can tell who our resident hero is!”

Alastor’s smile was polite and wrong. “You should unplug yourself before you short out on your own arrogance.”

“C’mon,” Vox leaned closer, screen flickering with a knowing grin. “Just tell me this: is it blood, soul-bound, or something more… personal?”

Alastor’s shadows seeped in life water through cracks in the ground, his eyes were black with malice as he turned to look Vox in his flat face.

“Ask again, and you’ll be broadcasting reruns of your own screams.”

Vox’s screen flared—then fizzled into a ripple of static as he backed off with a lazy shrug. “Touchy. Guess I hit the mark.”

Alastor glared and his shadows receded as he entered the meeting room, leaving Vox alone in the hall.

Vox smirked and fixed his tie before following him in, muttering as he walked by.

“Definitely personal.”

Alastor didn’t react, just took his seat next to Rosie and pretended to pay close attention to the goings on. His claws itched for his cane or his boy, he wasn’t sure which he wanted more. He supposed going so long without a person to care for was affecting him, but he wasn’t about to see it as a weakness. His need to protect his mother had only spurred him on more to take out the riff raff on his old streets, Takuma made the same feeling rise up, so it was more than just fun to torment these morons, it was a matter of making sure they knew not to mess with him.

That would be easier to achieve with a fixed cursed object sitting on his lap, but still achievable, nonetheless.

The meeting began as expected—stiff, tense, and with a healthy undercurrent of post-extermination anxiety. Carmilla took her usual place at the head of the table, a daughter on each end, her back straight and her gaze sharp enough to gut a lesser demon on sight.

It was Zestial who broke the silence first, his voice reverberating in a language older than most of the room. Translated through his visor-like mask, it emerged in that curious, ever-unsettled tone: “The Reaping faltered. And yet thou livest, Radio Fiend. Many expected thy absence to be... permanent.”

Alastor chuckled, low and airy. “Oh, but you know I’m not so easily plucked, dear Zestial. Adam is dead, Heaven has gone quiet, and a ceasefire is in place—at least until someone upstairs returns one of the King’s charming voicemails.”

Carmilla raised an elegant brow. “And the Princess still thinks she can turn murderers and monsters into choirboys?”

“She does.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. “Admirably stubborn, that one. But I don’t wager redemption is in the cards. Not unless you bribe the dealer.”

That earned a few dark chuckles from around the table, but Vox leaned forward from where he sat with his legs kicked up and hands clasped behind his head. The smile never left his screen. “Speaking of bets, I gotta say—wasn’t expecting you to walk out of that hotel intact. Adam looked like he wanted your spine on a pike.”

The laughter quieted.

All eyes turned to Alastor.

He smiled pleasantly. “How fortunate for me that I remain unpiked.”

“But how?” Vox pressed, letting the question linger like smoke. “Rumor is you were down a cane. No staff. No backup. And Adam had the high ground, didn’t he?”

Zestial leaned forward, fingers steepled like an insect ready to pounce. “Indeed. One does not simply survive a wrathful Seraphim. Unless… a shield was cast. One not of thy making.” He tilted his head, curious. “A soul, perhaps? A servant? Or…” his mask glimmered faintly, “a child thou ownest?”

Alastor's grin turned just a bit too sharp. “How dull this meeting becomes when we all play tabloid reporter.”

Carmilla’s eyes narrowed. “It’s rare for anyone to protect an Overlord. Rarer still for an Overlord to allow it. And yet... here you are. With nothing to show for it but mystery and menace.”

“Would you like me to bring a scrapbook next time?” Alastor asked airily. “Perhaps autographed photographs?”

“I’d settle for a name,” Vox purred.

“And I’d settle for silence,” Alastor replied, folding his hands atop the table. “As fascinating as my survival is to the lot of you, it has nothing to do with the matters at hand. The King and Princess are working on a treaty. Heaven is quiet. Hell still burns. Let’s get on with it.”

For a moment, no one moved.

Then Rosie cleared her throat delicately. “Let the gentleman speak in peace. We’ve all had our near-death stories.”

Carmilla waved a hand and agreed. “We have more to discuss anyhow, let’s more onto topics at hand.”

Vox leaned back, eyes narrowing behind the static. He didn’t push again, for now.

The meeting was adjourned with polite nods and tension-laced farewells. Alastor straightened his coat with a crisp motion, already calculating the quickest path out of the room—only to be intercepted by a hand, perfectly manicured and commanding.

“Alastor,” Carmilla Carmine purred, her smile razor-sharp but practiced. “Before you vanish into the shadows, I’d like a word.”

Rosie, Alastor’s closest semblance of warmth in these spaces, gave a knowing look and motioned toward the door. “I’ll wait by the exit, dear. Take your time.”

Alastor turned toward Carmilla, bowing with one hand to his chest, eyes ever unreadable. “Of course. Lead the way, Madame Carmine.”

He followed her through the winding hall of the council chambers. Her daughters flanked her, all dressed in sharp, tailored shades of white and black, their expressions curious, almost amused. Zestial walked behind them, impassive as ever—though Alastor did not miss the subtle way he observed everything.

They entered Carmilla’s private office, plush and refined, very modern as she was wont to choose. Once the door shut with an ominous click, Alastor’s smile tightened. The room smelled of perfume and ambition.

His shadow curled defensively at his feet, a low hum of static in the background.

“If this is an ambush,” Alastor said pleasantly, “I would recommend a different venue. The acoustics here would do very little for my scream.”

Carmilla huffed a breathy laugh, seating herself behind a sleek desk “Alastor, If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead before you found your way back to your hotel.”

“Charming,” Alastor quipped, eyes glancing toward the girls who were—thankfully—giggling, not sharpening knives.

“We’re not here to fight,” Zestial interjected smoothly. “We art here to speak of investment.”

Alastor tilted his head, only slightly less suspicious now. “In?”

“The hotel,” Carmilla replied. “I think it’s time we lent our… support to the Princess’s little redemption venture. But we’d prefer to speak with her and the King directly. You seem to be the bridge between them these days.”

Alastor raised a brow. “Do I?”

“Thou dost,” Zestial confirmed, stepping forward. “And thou hast done a fine job of it. But that was not the sole reason we summoned thee hither.”

Alastor’s smile froze, though he did not blink. “No?”

Carmilla leaned forward, lacing her fingers. “I know what a child looks like. I have two of my own, after all. Hellborn, yes. But children are all the same. You’re trying very hard to keep him hidden, but... Hell has eyes, Alastor.”

A cold weight coiled in his gut. He didn’t move, but his shadow stirred behind him like a rising tide.

Zestial reached into his coat and pulled out a folded sheet. He placed it gently on the desk and opened it.

Takuma’s name, spelled cleanly in golden ink, sat atop a stack of neatly comprised photos of his boy, untouched by Lucifer’s hex since Zestial did everything old school.

Alastor didn’t touch the paper.

Carmilla’s voice softened—not mockingly, not cruelly, but with a maternal clarity he hadn’t expected. “We’re not here to threaten you, Alastor. Or him. We understand how dangerous this world is for a child. Especially a human.”

Zestial nodded. “Thou hast done well to keep him safe. But shouldst thou ever have need—of resources, private tutelage, safe havens—speak the word. No debt shall be owed. Children are different. Sacred.”

One of Carmilla’s daughters giggled lightly from where she lounged on the sleek modern black couch. “He’s really cute. Is he as sharp as he looks?”

Alastor exhaled slowly through his nose. “Sharper. And smarter than he has any right to be.”

Carmilla smiled, genuinely now. “Whoever Takuma is, he’s doing wonders for your personality, I found you incredibly annoying before.”

She stood, the signal that their conversation was over, but her gaze stayed steady.

“Extend our offer to the King and Princess. And take care of that boy. Hell is watching.”

Alastor inclined his head once, too stiff to be casual, too soft to be hostile. “I always do.”

He stepped out of the room with that same grace he entered with, only to find Rosie waiting at the far end of the hall. He strolled over and allowed Rosie to take his arm before they walked to the elevator together.

“Would you mind if I popped in ta see the princess? I just wanna see how everything’s goin’.” Rosie purred.

Alastor kept his sigh in his lungs as he turned his charming grin to his friend. “Of course, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you!”

She could mingle all she wanted with the King and Princess, he needed to settle his nerves in his bayou with his boy.

Alastor kept up with Rosie wit for wit, but he couldn’t tell you what they discussed, his mind elsewhere as they went down the path to the hotel. When they came upon the front doors, Alastor opened it for her before stepping through himself.

Alastor walked Rosie through the main lobby with the ease of a gentleman escort, though his posture was too tense, too calculated. Every heel-click and smiling nod was a performance and one he was eager to end. The moment Rosie spotted Charlie and broke off with a warm greeting, Alastor gave a polite bow, turned on his heel, and vanished.

The hotel’s ambiance faded around him as he moved through its walls like a shadow slipping behind curtains. He didn’t need to ask where Takuma was—he could feel it, like gravity pulling him down the hall and up the stairs. His boy's emotions were a tuning fork inside his rib cage, vibrating too hard, too long.

He reached the familiar door and didn’t knock.

Takuma was curled in bed, blanket tucked around him like a protective shell, puffy-eyed and red-cheeked, and holding that manatee plush tight. Alastor stood there for a beat, taking in the sight—his son, frayed at the edges, tired and miserable for what reason he did not know.

Without a word, Alastor crossed the room, gently peeling the blanket back just enough to slip his arms beneath the boy. Takuma startled for half a second, he began to murmur something about Lucifer, but Alastor hushed him gently and kissed his brow.

No more words were exchanged.

Alastor walked briskly towards the door that led to his penthouse, opened and didn’t bother to shut it behind him as he took large steps to his archway that led into his bayou pocket dimension. The comforting weight of humidity and the chorus of frogs and cicadas welcomed them back with a gentle murmur. It was dusk here—always dusk unless he willed it otherwise. Fireflies blinked lazily in the warm gloom, and the wooden path creaked under his boots as he walked them through the tall cypress trees, deeper into the soft heart of the swamp.

The house emerged from the shadows like a memory—tired, warm, and built for comfort more than spectacle. The porch swing creaked in the breeze, and the screen door gave a familiar whine as he stepped inside.

Alastor didn’t bother turning lights, he walked straight to the old velvet couch near the hearth and lay down with Takuma still nestled in his arms, adjusting only so the boy’s weight rested on his chest, his head tucked beneath his chin.

Takuma didn’t say anything, just relaxed into his chest and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Alastor finally let the static in his mind hush. He closed his eyes.

Here, in this house that no one else had touched he didn’t have to pretend, he could just be a parent who needed the comfort of his child, safe and whole in his arms.

Chapter Text

Lucifer hummed a little melody under his breath as he left the staff kitchen with two bowls of ice cream, piled high with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and several cherries. Takuma wasn’t a huge sweets fan like Lucifer and Charlie, but he’d asked if they could share ice cream together next to his ocean view—and the King had jumped at the chance to bond with his boy.

He knew he had so much to make up for, and he hoped this little moment between them would help make his baby boy feel loved, and trust that his dad would always be there for him.

Lucifer stepped out of his portal and grinned as he turned to the bed where he’d bundled Takuma up.

And found it empty.

“Uh, Duckling?” he called, letting the bowls of ice cream float midair and encase themselves in magic to keep them perfect before he jogged over to Takuma’s bathroom.

He knocked on the door before he peeked in, but the bathroom was dark. He checked the walk-in closet. Also dark.

Lucifer frowned. Maybe he’d gone to his room? But the wards hadn’t alerted him.

Oh, you motherfucker.

Lucifer stormed toward Alastor’s side and found the door ajar. He pushed through with a growl of frustration as the ice cream floated innocently behind him. He knew where they’d gone. He stomped through the archway into the bayou and trekked his way through the swamp until the house came into view. No lights were on, but he heard the telltale sound of Takuma’s heartbeat—steady, close. He went straight inside and waved his hand, bringing the lights to life.

He found them lying on the couch. Takuma was still wrapped in his throw, the manatee plush laying on the floor. Alastor had one arm curled around the boy’s shoulders, the other draped over his own eyes. His deer ears twitched at the intrusion, but otherwise the demon didn’t move or acknowledge Lucifer’s presence.

Takuma did, though. He perked up when the lights came on and pulled away from Alastor, who grumbled and tried to draw him back, but the boy ducked his grasp and walked over to Lucifer.

Take that, sweetheart.

“I think Alastor had a bad time at that meeting,” Takuma whispered, reaching up to take one of the bowls of ice cream.

Lucifer frowned and snapped his fingers, making one of those Japanese heated table beds appear in the living room. He watched Takuma smile, then crawl under the blanket and into the warmth. The King could feel how his new powers sapped the heat from his body—so what better way to combat that than with a—

Fuck, what’s it called again? Katana? Kontsu? Ugh, whatever.

“Thanks, Dad,” Takuma called out.

Lucifer’s sour mood melted into nothing at those words, and he grinned at his boy. “Anything for you, Duckling!”

With Takuma settled, Lucifer stalked over to the lounging Radio Demon and reached out to gently rub comforting circles against one of his soft ears. “Didn’t go as planned?” he murmured.

“Less than stellar, more than expected,” Alastor hedged, leaning into the touch.

Lucifer tilted his head. “Mm. Vox?”

“Vox, Carmilla, Zestial. Take your pick,” he sighed. His voice was raw velvet, too calm to be fine. “Zestial and Carmilla knew about Takuma. Knew his name. Zestial even had photographs. Carmilla said I was... ‘less annoying’ now.”

Lucifer raised a brow. “Were you?”

“I’m always a gentleman. How dare you.”

Lucifer smiled. “You’re something, alright.”

Alastor finally moved his arm to glare at him with a single red eye, but the King just chuckled and shifted to gently massage around one antler, watching as the demon melted further into the couch.

“They offered help,” Alastor exhaled slowly. “No deals. Just concern. It’s unnatural.”

Lucifer leaned in, voice softer. “It’s parenting. Everyone with a soul—or lack thereof—wants to weigh in.”

“I’m not used to being seen like this.”

Lucifer nodded. “No. You’re used to being feared.”

“That too.”

There was a pause before Alastor added, quieter still, “They could take him from us. If they wanted to. He’s still… mortal.”

Lucifer’s voice sharpened just a breath. “No. They couldn’t.”

“They could try.”

Lucifer’s gaze drifted toward the—uh… katsu? Takuma was eating in silence, listening with one ear, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his sweater as he nibbled a bite of ice cream and pulled the manatee plush into his lap.

“They won’t,” Lucifer said, calm but unshakable. “Because if they did, I’d remind them why they’re all still in Hell—and I’m still the King.”

Alastor didn’t argue. He just let the silence stretch, letting himself enjoy Lucifer’s touch.

“I don’t like being threatened in veiled niceties,” Alastor muttered. “If they come near him again, I’ll tear the flesh from their bones and broadcast lullabies over the sound of their screams.”

Lucifer smirked. “You say that like I’d stop you.”

Alastor finally glanced at him. “And you didn’t bring ice cream.”

Lucifer looked entirely unbothered. “You don’t even like sweets.”

“I was under the impression it was the thought that counted,” Alastor teased, making them both chuckle.

Takuma rolled his eyes at the scene in front of him. “Have you two kissed yet? I think it’s called verbal edging, and it’s getting old.”

Both men startled so badly Lucifer almost fell off the couch, catching himself with a hand on Alastor’s shoulder—bringing them far too close for far too long.

Alastor reached up and pushed him off.

“Ow!”

Takuma sighed and got up. He walked over and helped Lucifer up. He knew he didn’t need to—but this was important, because of what he’d decided to do.

Lucifer took his hand with a grin and immediately pulled him into a hug, which Takuma allowed and returned. But the moment they parted, Takuma shoved him off balance again—toppling Lucifer onto Alastor a second time.

“You two really need to just get together. Everybody keeps asking me if you’re a couple, so just get it over with already!”

The two adults blushed and stared at Takuma, immediately talking over one another.

“I don’t want to push him, Takuma—”

“I will not do anything with him until he’s atoned for what he did to you—”

Takuma crossed his arms and sighed. “You don’t need to wait around for me. I’m okay with you two being together. Just stop being sappy in front of me—it’s gross.” He turned, grabbed his empty bowl, and walked toward the kitchen.

The silence that followed was deafening. The only sound was Takuma rinsing out his bowl and spoon.

Lucifer came to his senses and righted himself—still sprawled on Alastor’s chest. He leaned over with a grin.

“You did say I needed his blessing.”

Alastor glared up at him. “You manipulative bastard. Did you actually fall on me, or was that part of the plan too?”

Lucifer smirked and cupped Alastor’s face. “If I’m honest, will that win me points?” he asked, moving closer.

Alastor flushed and began to panic. “You still have plenty of penance to make up for! Don’t think you’re getting out of that! And courtship—I am not a cheap date!”

Lucifer chuckled, low and dark, brushing his lips against Alastor’s. “Honey, I’ll grovel at your feet. I’ll pay penance to your body, whatever helps you feel better. But for now? Just kiss me.” He purred—and sealed their lips together.

An embarrassing bleat escaped Alastor at the contact, hands flying to Lucifer’s shoulders to steady himself. He’d never really kissed anyone before—just foggy nights with Mimzy and too much liquor. This was different. The King hummed into his mouth, and Alastor gasped when it tickled, letting Lucifer’s forked tongue taste the roof of his mouth—drawing a moan from the deer demon.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Takuma shrieked as he walked back in.

Both men flew apart with twin gasps, Lucifer rolling dramatically to the floor while Alastor scrambled into a hunched-up sit.

“Ugh! I’m going to hang out with Charlie! I do not need to witness this!” Takuma groaned and stormed out the door, screen slamming behind him.

Neither man moved.

Lucifer finally spoke. “So, uh… wanna move this to the bedroom, or—”

Alastor whipped a throw pillow at his head. “Shut the fuck up!”

Lucifer howled with laughter and got to his feet, then bent over and kissed him again—softer, slower—his claws threading gently through Alastor’s hair, rubbing the base of those soft ears.

Alastor’s headache finally began to ease, his long arms curling around the King’s frame as he let himself be pulled into the moment.

The hotel lounge was filled with the meager crew and guests for a meeting called by Charlie herself. Charlie stood near the fireplace, practically vibrating with excitement, while Vaggie stood beside her, arms crossed but unable to hide the proud glint in her eyes.

Alastor was seated regally in a high-backed armchair, one leg crossed, Takuma had been plucked up before he could sit with Angel and situated in his lap. Lucifer leaned casually against the wall nearby, arms folded, smirking at the tension that still radiated faintly off Alastor. Since they had just come from the swamp house, actively testing the deer demon’s limits before Lucifer had gotten a call from Charlie.

Niffty sat cross-legged on the rug, twirling a feather duster like it was a baton. “So, what’s the big surprise, huh? Is it a new guest? Ooo, is it someone famous? Please tell me it’s someone who was murdered in a fun way!”

“Nope!” Charlie beamed. “Better!”

Angel frowned. “C’mon toots, spill before ya explode.”

Charlie clapped her hands. “Everyone, thank you for coming on such short notice. We received a message from Heaven today.”

That shut everyone up.

Lucifer arched a brow, intrigued. Alastor’s smile froze just a hair too sharp. Takuma looked up with a slight tilt of his head.

Charlie bounced slightly on her toes. “It worked. The hotel worked. Redemption is real. We have proof!”

Vaggie stepped up with her phone and showed everyone a picture of Sir Pentious.

The phone revealed the seraphim Emily arm-in-arm with a familiar long-necked figure, wearing his usual outfit except in white and—shockingly—wings.

Angel Dust sat upright. “No way.”

Lucifer blinked. “Is that—?”

“It is,” Charlie said proudly. “Sir Pentious. Redeemed. In Heaven.”

Everyone stared.

Takuma shot up from Alastor’s lap and ran to Charlie and hugged her tight. “You did it, Charlie!”

The siblings spun around in glee, Charlie laughing and holding him close while Takuma kept singing her praises. Angel, Husk and Niffty came up in excitement and shock, Angel also starting to complain that the snake got in before him.

Meanwhile, Alastor and Lucifer looked stunned. Lucifer had been under the assumption that this was more of a dream to support his daughter and a bit of rekindled hope. Alastor because this can’t be, the snake got into Heaven?!

Alastor stood and stormed over to Vaggie, swiping her phone away.

“Hey asshole—”

Alastor held the phone as though it was diseased. “I once watched that snake blow up a toaster because it didn’t ‘respect his genius.’ And now he’s holy.”

Angel snorted and leaned into Alastor’s space, offending the demon even more, “How’s that goin’ fer ya, Smiles, knowin’ this ain’t so futile as ya thought?” he asked with a smirk.

Alastor tsked and threw the phone back to the fallen angel. “Lessens the entertainment, but sinners will still consistently fail, I suppose I have that to look forward to.”

Angel hummed and crossed his many arms. “Do we’s know how he was redeemed?”

Charlie winced. “Well…”

Vaggie sighed. “Not. A. Clue.” She droned.

Chapter Text

What was it Lucifer had said? Two steps forward, five steps back?

Well. This was six steps back, a stumble, and possibly a faceplant into the River of Stupidity.

Lucifer stood frozen in the lounge, holding a clipboard that had been handed to him five minutes ago with an unholy amount of optimism. Unfortunately, said clipboard had revealed that he was, how had Charlie put it?

“Two weeks behind schedule, catastrophically irresponsible, and not allowed to do marketing anymore.”

The King of Hell, the Greatest Temptation and Father of Lies, had forgotten to make the pamphlets. And not just make them, he was supposed to distribute them across the city. Flyers, posters, a few magically enchanted sandwich boards. You know, the usual.

Now, four days before the grand reopening of the Hazbin Hotel, there were exactly zero fliers in circulation. Not a single one. Redemption had been confirmed, and not a single damned soul knew it.

Charlie stood in the center of the lounge like a storm cloud in heels. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips with a look of disappointment that could rival her mother.

“Two. Weeks. You said you’d handle it, Dad!”

Lucifer winced and tried to look charming. “I meant to. I had designs and everything—”

“Yeah, they look great,” Takuma cut in, holding up the finished drawings, arms crossed, tone flat. “Found them in the office printer, where you left them.”

Alastor, seated not far off and a nice cup of rye with all the smugness of a well-fed cat, chuckled behind his cup. “Oh dear. Quite a lapse in royal planning. Shall we alert the press? Oh wait, you were supposed to do that too, weren’t you?”

Lucifer decided to ignore him, he’d get him back later anyways.

“Focus!” Charlie snapped, dragging the spotlight back with a wave of her arms. “Dad, this was huge. This is our first big chance to show people that redemption works. That the hotel works. We needed sinners here—and you were in charge of the one thing that would’ve gotten them through the doors.”

Lucifer deflated, the manicured charm falling away just a little. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I… forgot. I’ve been trying to keep everything balanced, and I just slipped.”

Takuma looked between the two and as always felt compelled to be the peacekeeper.

He turned to Charlie, his voice quieting. “He really does forget stuff sometimes. Like, completely. It’s part of his severe depression.”

Charlie’s eyes softened, just barely.

“I know,” she said, lower now. “I know. It’s just… frustrating. This isn’t just about the hotel anymore. People deserve to know they have a chance.”

“They will,” Takuma said, coming to stand closer beside her. “We’ll just have to work twice as hard now.”

Charlie sighed and rubbed her temples. “We don’t even have a printing crew ready—”

“Oh, that I can help with,” Alastor chirped. “Nothing like the thrill of a last-minute miracle and a little radio magic. Shall I whip up a broadcast jingle while I’m at it? Perhaps something with pizzazz?”

Takuma frowned and eyed Alastor, he bit his thumb to keep from asking the obvious question.

How are you going to do that without your radio cane?

Charlie snapped her fingers. “That’s perfect, and Dad can be your co-host to make up for what happened here!”

Alastor looked far less pleased with this. “I’m sure we can find something more to his Majesties skillset… like staring at drying paint.”

Lucifer looked ready to murder him, but Takuma and Charlie cut off their line of sight.

“You know, I thought with you two dating, it would make this rivalry less hostile.” Charlie commented.

Takuma smirked at Alastor, who looked instantly suspicious. “No, I think it’s just their weird foreplay.”

The Radio Demon choked on his own spit and surged from his chair. “I beg your pardon young man!”

Charlie looked between them, exasperated and tired. “We have four days. Four. Days. To get the city talking about the hotel, get flyers made, get bodies through the door, and convince everyone that this is real.”

Takuma turned to Lucifer. “You owe her, y’know. Big time.”

Lucifer nodded solemnly. “I do.”

Charlie pointed at him. “You work with Alastor on something that’s going to make it perfect, that’ll get sinners to want to try for a second chance.”

“Understood,” Lucifer said quickly.

Alastor, still thoroughly rankled by Takuma’s sass, hoisted him up by the back of his sweater vest like a misbehaving kitten. “Where are you learning these phrases? If its Angel, I’m going to murder him.”

Takuma scowled and reached up to grab his arm. “I was around middle schoolers, they talk about a lot of weird stuff. I wanted to know what it all meant, and no one monitored me.”

Alastor glared and his shadow pulled Takuma’s phone out of his pocket. “You’ve had too much of this tech. I’ll be setting limits to this.”

“Hey, give it back!”

Alastor ignored him and turned to Lucifer and Charlie, who had twin looks of equal fondness and exasperation that he didn’t understand. “Lucifer, make yourself useful and fix this device for a child his age.”

“Dad no!” Takuma exclaimed and tried to wiggle free of Alastor’s grasp that had him suspended in air like he weighed nothing, he tried kicking at the demon, but his legs were just a hair too short.

Lucifer sighed and held out his hand, Alastor put the phone in his palm as though he was touching something disgusting. The King of Hell chuckled and made quick work of putting a few safety measures on Takuma’s phone.

“Don’t block out gore! I’m following a murder investigation, and I want to know how the feds solve it.” Takuma pleaded.

Alastor waved his other hand. “That’s fine, we’re following that one together. The police are, as always, moronic pigs and can’t follow a clue to save a life.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and handed back the phone, Takuma swiped it before Alastor could make it disappear into his shadows.

“Can you put me down? I’m going to help Charlie with the flyers and posters.”

Charlie smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Actually, Dad’s artwork is still usable, so I’ll be using it. I’m going to go down to the print shop and have everything printed with Vaggie. But once we get them down, I’ll come get you and have you help me put them up around the city!”

Alastor tensed. “I didn’t say he could leave the hotel.”

The two older Morningstar’s frowned at him. “He’ll be fine.” They said in unison.

Takuma crossed his arms and frowned. “Charlie, I’ll help you when you get back. Dad, get to work on what to say and I want to read it first before you and Alastor go on air. Alastor, can we go to the house for a bit?”

Everyone blinked, a bit stunned by his forwardness, but his words jumped started them into action. Charlie pulled out her phone to call Vaggie to meet her at the print shop, Lucifer frowned at the two before portaling away probably to his room.

Alastor put Takuma onto his hip and started for the elevator.

“Any particular reason you believe going to the swamp is going to change my mind?” Alastor asked as he pressed the button for the top of the hotel.

Takuma tried to pull free, but Alastor didn’t budge. He’s been excessively clinging since that Overlord meeting.

“I’d rather talk about it where no one can spy on us.” Takuma finally gave up, and he sighed and wrapped his arms around Alastor’s neck and hugged him, the gesture was returned happily.

“Ah, a secret discussion that you believe will soften my dead heart, how amusing!” the other cheered and nuzzled into his curls before pulling away and stepping out of the elevator and strolling towards his penthouse.

The trek to the swamp house was always scenic. Gators, lizards, birds and some deer could be seen along the way. A snake or two slithered up a tree as they passed. Everything here was real, breathing, and dangerous. However, Alastor had full control over the inhabitants here and nothing bothered him or his child.

Anyone else, well they may have permission, but that didn’t mean he stopped the wildlife from having their fun. Though Lucifer’s very presence scared off even the bigger predators.

When he walked through the front door, the lights turned on at his thought and he finally set Takuma down.

“Now, shall we discuss what’s on your mind darling?” Alastor asked and guided his boy to the kitchen table.

“I’m not as long winded as you, so I’ll just get to the point.” Takuma replied and refused the seat offered to him. Alastor blinked and tilted his head, if anyone else had said this without care they’d have been his dinner, but not his precious boy.

“Well, it better be interesting with that tone of yours.” Alastor huffed and waved for him to continue.

Takuma sighed, “I want to fix your cane.”

Alastor tensed and the room went cold and dark in seconds, the shadows curling around them and maybe, if he wasn’t looking at the one person who’d never wavered in their love and been so determined to protect and hold him close, he might have been scared.

The shadows curled around him, yet the touch wasn’t terrifying, and he didn’t look away from Alastor’s gleaming red eyes.

Takuma rolled his own after a few minutes of their staring contest and wiped at his arms where the shadows clung. “Alastor, seriously, I mean it. I want to fix your cane. I’m not stupid, I know it’s a big power source for you.”

“Once again, I’ve never said you were stupid.” Alastor demurred and the shadows receded just as they’d come.

Alastor pulled out the chair again and ordered Takuma to sit. The mortal did as he was told if only to appease Alastor’s mood as the demon went around to sit opposite of him.

“So, you've come to the conclusion that my cane is something important.” He stated with nonchalance.

Takuma sighed and crossed his arms. “Can we please cut through this part? You just claimed to know I’m not stupid, yet you’re still trying to manipulate like I am! Maybe you don’t think I’m stupid, but you definitely think I’m naïve, and I’m not that either, Alastor.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes, and his smile was sharper than Takuma’s ever seen directed his way before, still he wasn’t scared or fearful, he just met his gaze head on.

“I know you don’t like being seen as weak, and I don’t think of you as weak. But you risked everything against Adam and then you gave up some of your own powers for me. I just want to help you.” Takuma pressed and held out his hand, palm up.

Alastor’s posture eased with a sigh, he’d never look so undignified as to slump, but it was almost a sure thing.

“Darling, this isn’t something you need to worry about, I’ll handle it.” He soothed and took the smaller hand offered to him, wrapping his claws delicately around his son’s soft mortal skin.

But Takuma shook his head and with a snap of his fingers, courtesy of Lucifer’s magic, the book Alastor had been making him read through popped onto the table.

“One of the spells in here lets me fix things, but I know your cane isn’t just a normal thing to fix, but Dad gave me another book—” he snapped again, and a book bound in white leather appeared as well, “— which shows with his angelic magic I can fix cursed objects. I’ve been working on a spell, and I know I can fix your cane. I’m right though, aren’t I, it’s a cursed object?”

Alastor’s smile faltered, just for a second.

“Oh, now that’s quite a leap, my dear,” he said airily, eyes gleaming. “You’ve been dabbling in cursed object mending? How ambitious of you.”

“Don’t deflect,” Takuma said, unmoved. “I’m right.”

Alastor tapped a claw against the table, a soft, steady click. It echoed faintly, like distant static.

“… I don’t know,” he said finally. “That staff has been with me since I was mortal. I don’t remember where I got it. I only know that when I woke up in Hell… and it followed me here.”

Takuma blinked. “Seriously?”

Alastor gave a small shrug. “Hard to say when one’s memories are… edited. With the knowledge of my deal with your father now, I dare say it may have come from him. Not that he remembers either.”

“But you’ve been using it this whole time,” Takuma pressed. “You rely on it.”

“That doesn’t mean I understand it,” Alastor said, voice clipped. “It’s not something I made, Takuma. It’s something I was given. There’s no real telling where or what it was prior.”

Takuma frowned. “But it is broken, and it’s hindering you. Which is why I’m offering.”

Alastor leaned forward more, holding tight to his smaller hand. “And what, pray tell, do you think happens to someone who goes fiddling with cursed objects made from unknown sources of power and handed to an Overlord by God-knows-what?”

Takuma didn’t flinch. “Tainted angelic magic or not, the power is made to withstand whatever a cursed object can throw. If I’m going to use it, I might as well make it useful.”

Takuma leaned forward into Alastor’s space. “You agree I’m not stupid. But I’m also not going to sit back and watch you act like this doesn’t matter. You gave up a third of your power for me. You’re playing Overlord politics without your staff, without your anchor. And you’re pretending everything’s fine while you wince like something’s splintered inside you.”

Alastor scowled. “I do not wince.”

“Alastor.”

The name landed between them like a spell of its own, Takuma rarely put so much emotion behind his words, so careful to maintain neutrality unless it called for it.

Alastor’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

“You gave me a home. You protect me. You stay with me even when I’m at my worst. And you let me love you and give love in return. So let me help you too.” He paused, and then added, quieter, “Please.”

Alastor stared at him for a long moment. “You really are unbearably earnest sometimes.”

Takuma cracked a small smile. “And you’re unbearably stubborn. But we’re family. So… let me help. Let’s fix this together.”

Alastor closed his eyes for a breath. Then he pulled the white-bound book toward himself, careful fingers brushing over the cover like it might dissolve.

“Before I allow this, this must have a cost.”

Takuma blinked rapidly, “I need to make a deal with you so I can fix it?”

Alastor shook his head and swiped a clawed thumb over Takuma’s wrist. “No darling, I need to make a deal with you.”

Chapter Text

Takuma blinked. “Wait… you want to make a deal with me?”

Alastor nodded slowly, his expression turning serious despite that persistent grin. “Yes. Because you’re offering to touch something dangerous on my behalf. And that, my dear, makes you the one owed.”

Takuma tilted his head. “So… this is a lesson?”

Alastor chuckled. “A proper deal must always acknowledge risk, no matter the intent. If you help me restore the cane—and it is a help—then you deserve something in return. Even family should keep their debts clear.”

Takuma sat back, folding his arms. “Okay. Then I want a favor.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Just one?”

Takuma nodded. “One unnamed favor. I don’t want anything now. I’ll ask later when I know what I need.”

That gave Alastor pause and his eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in that calculating way of his, as though reevaluating something. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he leaned back in his chair and said:

“Not enough.”

Takuma blinked. “What?”

“A single favor is standard,” Alastor said, lacing his claws together, “but you’re attempting a spell on a potentially ancient, cursed, identity-bound conduit tethered to an Overlord's soul. That's worth more than a little favor.”

“…Are you trying to up-sell right now?”

“I have standards, darling.”

Takuma huffed out a laugh despite himself. “Fine. What do you think this should cost you?”

Alastor tilted his head in mock contemplation. “One unnamed favor… and I teach you how to cook properly.”

Takuma blinked and he perked up. “Seriously?”

“Your last name may be Morningstar but you’re still mine, and my family prided themselves on our cooking,” Alastor said, theatrically scandalized. “You cannot reside here and not know how to cook in this kitchen when needed, living off of whatever's left in ice box. It’s barbaric.”

Takuma gave a slow, amused shrug. “Okay. A favor and cooking lessons. Deal.”

Alastor reached out his hand, this time his palm up in invitation. “Shake on it, darling.”

Red tipped claws wrapped around his small, tanned hand and their magic burst into the air around them, green mixing with frosted blue and while the green melted into shadows, Takuma’s magic drifted in the air like a cold mist before melting away. This wasn’t like before, Takuma now had actual skin in the game.

Alastor’s smile softened, just a little. “You’re becoming quite the negotiator.”

Takuma pulled the book close to him and returned the smile. “I have a really great teacher.”

Alastor’s grin returned, sharp and warm. “Then prepare yourself, my darling. Because you’re about to learn that cursed object work is very messy business.”

With this in mind, Takuma flipped through the pages until he came to the spell he needed, technically it was written in a dead language for angels, but when your dad is a fallen angel, you get the perk of being given the language with a tap of his claw to your forehead. Takuma stood from his chair and moved it out of his way, sleeves already rolled up, eyes narrowed in determined focus.

Alastor brought the broken cane out of the shadows and laid it on the table, “Remember,” Alastor said, his tone clipped but not unkind, “it’s not about overpowering it. It won’t submit to force.”

Takuma gave a small nod and raised his hand, his magic grabbed onto the broken pieces and brought up into the air to float. A light frost spread from his fingertips, delicate as spun glass, curling around the broken halves of the cane that floated between them.

Alastor folded his hands behind his back and watched in complete silence as his boy slowly aligned the jagged ends. It was precise, cautious. Takuma’s gaze flicked back to the spellbook, finger tracing the lines of celestial script, then returning to the task with renewed confidence.

The frost deepened, encasing the fracture. Takuma stepped forward, placed both palms out toward the cane, and closed his eyes.

Alastor felt it first—the shift in the room. The temperature dropped sharply, his breath fogging on the air, and mist began to rise from the floor. But it wasn’t just cold. It was purposeful, living.

A faint hum rose from the cane, and then—

Crackle.

A burst of green static surged along the fractured staff, like an exposed wire hissing in resistance. Alastor’s shadows twitched in response, bracing. The cane rejected the healing at first, vibrating violently in place.

Takuma’s brow furrowed. His breath came in short, shuddering gasps—frost curling from his lips but he didn’t stop. He raised one hand above the cane and forced his magic to slow, to soften. The ice stopped fighting the static and it flowed with it instead.

The green shimmer of Alastor’s magic wavered, then began to wrap around the frost instead of fighting it, pulling it into its own shelter as though sensing whose magic this was and wanting to protect, the very idea made Alastor’s eyes widen.

The cane’s glow brightened, and a soft hum turned into a sharp, shink—like a blade snapping into place and sudden silence. The cane floated down gently into Takuma’s waiting hands. He passed it across the table with reverence.

Alastor reached out, fingers brushing the Takuma frigid fingers—and nearly gasped at the rush of power that slammed back into his core. His shadows flared outward before settling again. His magic no longer limped or lurched and stretched thin, the cane was whole.

He looked up, ready to speak—to praise, to gloat, to thank—but the words died in his throat.

Takuma was slouched forward, one arm bracing himself on the table, the other still raised like his body hadn’t registered that the spell was finished. His face was pale and icy mist curled from his shoulders like steam off a melting lake.

Alastor’s smile dipped at the edges.

“Darling?” he asked, quietly.

Takuma blinked slowly and looked up. His eyes were heavy, but his mouth tugged into a small, tired grin. “Looks like it worked.”

Alastor stepped forward and gently caught his shoulders before he could slump. “You foolish, magnificent boy,” he murmured.

Takuma gave a weak shrug. “Told you I could handle it.”

“You negotiated with a cursed artifact that doesn’t even know what plane of existence it was forged on,” Alastor said, trying not to sound as shaken as he felt. “And you used borrowed angelic magic to do it.”

“I had a good teacher,” Takuma whispered again, then leaned forward just slightly, enough that his head came to rest against Alastor’s coat.

Alastor gently picked him up and cradled him close and, cane in one hand, left the kitchen to sit in the Living-room. The fireplace came to life with a thought, while Alastor tried to warm him up by wrapping him in a blanket and rubbing his arms. Takuma’s head lolled forward and rested against Alastor’s chest.

“You’re not supposed to drain yourself to the point of collapse, darling,” Alastor muttered under his breath. “What were you thinking? This was exactly why I said this should come with more safeguards—”

“I did have safeguards,” Takuma slurred mildly. “They were called… me.”

Alastor gave him a scandalized look. “That isn’t even remotely how that works!”

He curled around him, still feeling the frigid air cling to his limbs, so he stood and put them both right in front of the fire.

“You overextended your life force. I felt it,” he continued, still holding the cane. “You didn’t just channel magic—you gave something. Burned it like kindling. I should’ve known! You mortals and your ridiculous tendencies to sacrifice yourselves over sentiment!”

Takuma let his head roll to the side to look at him. “You literally made me do a deal first.”

“That was to teach you structure, not to encourage martyrdom!” Alastor snapped, adjusting the blanket again despite it not moving an inch. “You’re lucky you’re not convulsing on the floor and screaming in Latin while your eyes roll into the back of your head!”

“I don’t even speak Latin,” Takuma mumbled.

“You would have, if the cane had decided to use your spine as a tuning fork!”

Takuma cracked an exhausted smirk. “Sounds like you’re mad I was right.”

Alastor cradles his face close to his, checking his pupils and desperately trying to warm his cold skin, “I am infuriated that you were right! Do you know how irritating that is for me?”

“I take it you’re feeling better?” Takuma asked, eyes barely open now.

Alastor froze and looked down at the cane laying beside them, humming with renewed energy.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Annoyingly so.”

Takuma gave a tiny thumbs-up and burrowed into his chest and sighed. Alastor wrapped his arms around him, kissing the top of his head.

“You really are insufferably brave,” he murmured. “And utterly reckless.”

Takuma yawned. “Still your favorite though.”

Alastor sighed, long and low, brushing another kiss to his forehead. “Forever and always, darling.”

The Radio Demon sat crossed legged in front of the fire, and honestly, he expected Lucifer much sooner than this.

He felt him rushing through the swamp and running through the door before he saw him, eyes red and horns out, ready for a fight.

“What happened.” He seethed and stalked around like a predator checking his territory.

Alastor’s ear flattened against his skull, “I couldn’t possibly know what you’re on about—”

Lucifer was suddenly there, gripping his chin to make him look into his glowing red eyes. Even without pupils, Alastor could tell he was being assessed, but there was no pain to be found and that only caused Lucifer to grow more irritated.

“What. Happened.” He growled.

“My cane was broken by Adam,” Alastor started begrudgingly, “Takuma, ever my little detective, had cottoned onto my predicament.”

Lucifer frowned and his eyes reverted back to normal, but he didn’t release him.

Alastor was finding him proximity to be a bit distracting. “I was fine, obviously, but my cane is… useful.”

“Your biggest power source outside the souls you own.” Lucifer corrected coldly. “No lying, Bambi.”

“Yes, thank you,” Alastor snapped. “It’s my power source. Adam broke it. I was considerably weaker but managing. However—when you showed me the adoption contract, I wanted Takuma to have my power, and that didn’t help.” He paused, grimacing. “Takuma worried, he offered to fix it and we made a deal. He fixed it and now he’s sleeping off his foolishness, and I’m an idiot.”

His voice caught at the end, cheeks flushing with heat.

Lucifer sighed and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Alastor’s nose before pulling away. “Just so we’re clear, I’m fucking furious with you.”

He turned, crouching beside the bundle in Alastor’s lap.

Takuma stirred with a soft noise of protest, blinking awake just in time to feel a familiar breath of golden magic warm his chest. Lucifer’s hand hovered gently over his brow.

“Dad?” Takuma murmured.

“Hey, Duckling.” Lucifer smiled and kissed his nose too. “If you ever do that again, I’ll drag both of you to every single Goetia party I can find and dress you up like royalty. Alastor can enjoy his new title as Prince Consort, and you will enjoy being the center of attention for every entitled noble and their spoiled brats.”

Lucifer had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh at the matching looks of disgust that followed, adopted or not, Takuma was looking more like Alastor every day in expressions.

“Do I make myself clear, you two?” he said, arching a brow.

“Yes, sir,” Takuma said instantly.

Alastor lifted his chin with a dramatic huff. “If you’re going to be a brute about it—fine. Yes.”

Lucifer smirked as he stood up, hands on his hips and enjoying having a tad of height on Alastor or at least being at height when he sits straight. “Honestly, what were either of you thinking? No wards? No backup? No me?”

Takuma shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in Alastor’s lap. “Alastor wouldn’t have given in if you were here, it was hard enough to get him to talk about it as just the two of us,” he explained but then grinned up at Alastor, who looked confused, “But I’m his favorite, so I knew he’d give in if I asked nicely.”

The big bad Radio Demon melted and wrapped him up in his long limbs to hug him close. “Yes, you are the favorite. I’ll spoil you rotten for sure.” He crooned and kissed his cheek.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “He manipulated you, blatantly admits to it, and you’re cooing like he said his first word.”

“I’m raising him to be a dastardly little hellion, of course I’m proud of him.” Alastor corrected and continued to shower his boy in affection, or in his mind positive reinforcement.

Takuma smiled and leaned into the attention, returning the hug happily. “I did it with good intentions, does that make it a bad thing still?”

Lucifer shrugged. “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions they say.”

Before the mortal could debate this, his phone buzzed.

Charlie 🌞🌸: Ready to start flyering! Meet out front in 10!! 💕

Alastor’s growl vibrated through Takuma’s whole body, and he hunched over his phone when he saw his shadow try to sneakily take it away.

“I want to help Charlie!”

Lucifer darted forward and expertly plucked the boy right out of Alastor’s lap like someone snatching a cat off a velvet chair.

“C’mon, Al,” he said breezily. “He’ll be with Charlie and Vaggie. I’ll even layer a little extra shielding on him, divine protection.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed into crimson slits. “I don’t care if you bubble-wrap him in holy flame—he is not going.”

Takuma frowned. “Do you expect me to stay in the hotel forever?”

The Radio Demon didn’t shuffle to his feet, with his powers supplemented by his cane even the third residing inside Takuma wouldn’t be a blimp on his soul now, so his shadows enveloped him and had him standing in seconds with cane standing at attention under his clawed hands in front of him.

“Until you’re a sinner and ready to be my partner in crime, there’s no need to experience Pentagram City.” Alastor answered and tried to pull Takuma back to him but was thwarted by Lucifer’s tainted divine magic subtly cutting off his shadows.

Takuma ran a hand through his curls, mussing them into more of a frizzed mess after this whole ordeal. Alastor’s claws seemed to twitch at the need to fix them.

“I want to explore my new home, and I’m a Morningstar, I want to help my people too, like Charlie.” He argued and to Alastor’s ever-growing annoyance the reverence in his son’s voice for his big sister was obvious.

Of course, he’d idolize Charlie’s naïve determination to see the good in others.

Lucifer seemed to catch it too, but his expression was prouder and happier that his children were so good and hopeful. Alastor, meanwhile, looked like he’d been personally insulted by the prospect.

“Oh-ho!” he barked, smile sharp and entirely without humor. “So, you’d like to run off and play the benevolent prince of Hell, would you? Handing out redemption leaflets and hugs to back-alley butchers and backstabbing sinners? How charmingly suicidal.”

Takuma stood his ground, arms crossed. “Charlie does it.”

“Yes, and your sister has the fear of every sinner behind in the knowledge that Lucifer will end their soul’s existence on this plain as well in they so much as touch her.” Alastor snapped. “You, my dear boy, have freckles, sass, and my unrelenting anxiety.”

Lucifer made a choking sound and added quickly. “I’m working on announcing his status, its gotta be this grand thing though, a big party with the news. It’ll look great for him if the sinners see him out and about trying to help them when they finally see him announced on TV.”

Alastor shot him a withering glare, then returned his gaze to Takuma, expression softening but no less intense. “I don’t want you hidden forever, darling, but I do want you alive. And this city—this city would chew you up and floss its teeth with your good intentions.”

Takuma blew an explosive sigh and rubbed at his face. “What’re you going to do when Charlie has more guests at the hotel?”

Alastor tapped his cane on the floor. “What need does my child have for mingling among the riffraff of Hell? This bayou expands indefinitely, you have an entire world to explore here, no need to worry yourself about with the goings on in the hotel.”

Takuma pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can’t keep me from the world, Alastor.”

“I can try!” Alastor said with theatrical flourish. “It’s my right as your parent!”

“It’s also my right to live,” Takuma countered. “Not just exist in a magical pocket of velvet and nostalgia.”

Lucifer sighed himself and came to stand between them. “You know he’s right.”

“I refuse to be ganged up on,” Alastor muttered, an ear flicking in distain. “It’s undignified.”

Takuma tilted his head, voice softer now. “You said it yourself, you’re supposed to guide me, not lock me away.”

Alastor flinched like he’d been struck, but his voice was steady when he replied.

“I am guiding you. I just… don’t trust the world you’re walking into.”

Lucifer nodded solemnly. “Neither do I. But I trust him.”

Alastor was quiet for a long moment, the firelight flickering off the lacquer of his cane, a sheen of frost glistened just a moment, seen by no one, and then it was gone.

Finally, he sighed through his teeth. “Fine, go. Spread your ridiculous little posters and spread your optimism. But I am coming with you.”

Takuma eyed him suspiciously. “Okay…”

Alastor chuckled and moved forward to run his claws through curls with his renewed magic to fix them properly. “Don’t look so put off, I’ll be your guide as you said, while keeping my eye on you.” He soothed.

Lucifer smirked. “Sure, Mama Bear.”

“Say it again, and I’ll gut you with a phonograph needle.” Alastor hissed and flushed.

Chapter Text

Charlie and Vaggie waited at the door for Takuma, it had definitely been longer than ten minutes since she sent that text, and she worried Alastor wasn’t going to work with them.

Vaggie frowned and looked at her watch. “Takuma would at least text you back if he can’t get away.” She assured her.

Charlie hummed in agreement but added, “Unless Alastor took his phone away.”

Just as sudden as the heat of the day filled through the room, the icy shadows came from everywhere at once and concentrated on one part of the lobby until they fell away to reveal Alastor and Takuma.

“Have a little more faith in me, Charlie. We were just discussing lunch plans for later.” Alastor assuaged and kept a hand on Takuma’s shoulder.

Charlie blinked in surprise, because Alastor hadn’t used his shadow travel in a while. She knew better than to ask though, leave that to when she and Takuma were alone to ask.

“Oh, are you coming to help us, Alastor?” she asked, ignoring Vaggie’s rapidly souring mood.

Alastor huffed a laugh and touched his chest, going for his theatrical ways, “Oh no, dear. I’m not here to mingle with the lower denizens. I’ll be coming along to keep our dear Takuma safe. If you all insist on exposing him to the horrors of literal Hell, I’ll keep him safe from its worst.”

Vaggie grumbled under her breath, “You are the worst.” Before walking towards the door.

Takuma smirked and went to walk with Charlie, Alastor’s presence behind them looming as his cane went clack against the pavement.

“I’m surprised Dad isn’t here too.” Charlie commented, bit exasperated.

Takuma shook his head though, “I reminded him he had to make up for what happened, so he went back to his room to work on his part of the broadcast.” He replied.

Charlie smiled and took his hand. “Good, thanks to my assistant coordinator, everything should run smoothly.” She affirmed and watched Takuma’s face light up at his new title.

Alastor rolled his eyes from behind them, assistant coordinator, please as if that would be his title. As the son of the Radio Demon, Alastor could think of better things Takuma could go by, after all with his shadows and voodoo magic combined with Takuma frigid ice powers, they’ll make an excellent Overlord duo, taking over turfs and ending certain Overlords who should know their places.

For now, Alastor will stick with darling and little detective, those suited him much better.

“Okay, everyone! Our mission is to cover as much visible space as we can before sundown. Storefronts, lampposts, community boards, neutral turf only. No graffiti-tagged zones from the other Overlords, and if anyone gives you trouble—”

“I eat them,” Alastor interrupted, already one pace behind Takuma, cane at the ready.

Charlie sighed. “No. Talk them down, then eat them if necessary.”

“I don’t like this new moderation policy,” Alastor grumbled.

Vaggie handed stacks out with military precision. “You don’t have to like it. You just have to follow it.”

“I follow many things,” Alastor mused, plucking a flyer like it might be diseased. “Fine art. Spices. The screams of old enemies echoing through century-old radios…”

Charlie rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on but pushing through, they’d been up since five am and it wasn’t even lunch yet.

Takuma started placing flyers, careful and methodical, and without a hint of shame handed both the stack and enchanted glue bucket to Alastor.

“Hold these,” he said casually, already moving to press a flyer onto the brick wall with both palms.

Alastor stared down at his full hands like he'd just been handed a pair of used socks.

“I believe I signed on for parental duties, not charitable ones.” He muttered.

“No,” Takuma replied without missing a beat. “You signed up to be an active parent. Active parents are involved in their kids’ extra curriculars, keep up.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes, but didn’t argue, he simply sniffed and adjusted the way he carried the items, all the while muttering darkly about parental duties and disrespect.

They did indeed stay away from other turfs, but that didn’t mean they didn’t run into plenty of sinners along the way. Alastor deterred many a sinner who was a bit too curious for his liking, but an hour into this forced labor he spied drones trying to catch a photo of them, if they got to close to Takuma the drones fizzled and dropped like flies, so Lucifer’s hex kept them at bay.

Lunch was close, going by the milling sinners leaving jobs and looking for food. Alastor used his cane to guide Takuma off the busier streets and down a street meant cut across to another part of the city.

“Well, a bit busy out there, best we leave the rest to dear Charlie and Vaggie to put up the rest of these flyers and whatnot—” Alastor was saying and looked over to where Takuma had been standing, to find he wasn’t there.

Alastor immediately dropped the remaining flyers and the bucket of glue, vanishing into his shadows and listening for a mortal’s heartbeat. If someone touched his boy he’d rend them limb from limb.

Finding his little fool was no trouble for Alastor, as he came upon the sound of his heartbeat he reappeared on a busy street where he saw Takuma talking to a rat sinner. A toad sinner nearby was obviously getting agitated and Alastor quickly swooped in to loom over his boy.

“Is there a problem here.” He intoned with gleeful malice.

The toad and rat jumped back but Takuma reached out and grabbed onto the rat. “Ritzo stay, it’s okay I promise! Just talk to me and do not talk to the demon behind me.”

The rat in question looked at Alastor’s looming form and shivered. “How can you say that when he looks ready to eat us all?”

Takuma winced but refused to look back. “That’s my… Papa, he won’t hurt me, and I won’t let him hurt you.” He assured but he side-eyed the toad that seemed to grow back his bravado and was coming back to bitch about Takuma interrupting his deal. “You on the other hand, I’m sure the Radio Demon is a bit peckish considering its lunchtime.”

“The Radio Demon ain’t got no kids.” The toad seethed and went to butt Takuma out of the way of the rat, “You better git on goin’ before—”

Alastor’s shadows pressed in all around, his greenness over taking the stitches along his mouth and lighting up his eyes and smile. “You touched my son, I’ll be leaving you without hands.” He growled out, his form growing and curling around Takuma.

Takuma’s eyes widened and he grabbed Ritzo and pulled him behind Alastor. “Let’s not watch what’s about to happen huh?” he cautioned and quickly took out his phone to text Charlie and Vaggie his location and to come quick.

“Why are you helping me?” Ritzo asked, wincing at the gurgling screams from behind.

“I work at the Hazbin Hotel, we help sinners find redemption to Heaven. You’re a new soul here, right?” Takuma asked looking every which way to see which direction Charlie might come from.

Ritzo shifted nervously as the shadows started to circle them, “Y-yeah, I died a month back. N-nobody hires without a soul contract. I’m hungry, which is so stupid since I’m dead and all. I was about to agree to Mr. Malcom’s deal.”

Takuma scowled as the shadows centered on him and felt Alastor appear behind him, his claws wrapping around his shoulders. “Yeah, I know how deals work. Listen, there’s food and shelter at the hotel, you need to come there, and we can help you.”

Alastor chuckled in that dark and sinister way when he smelled fresh meat. “Well, having a little protection in Hell wouldn’t hurt either. I’m not above a bit of charity.” He crooned.

Takuma panicked when he felt the deal between them begin to jerk to life. “Listen Ritzo do not make any deals with my Papa, he’s good to me but nobody else. Just go to the hotel and my sister Charlie will be able to help you.” He rambled quickly.

Alastor stopped his dealmaker charms like someone had pulled the needle off of a vinyl. “My darling that’s the second Papa, is that what you’ve decided on?” he cooed, turning Takuma to look at him and ignoring the rat sinner entirely now.

Takuma blushed and from the corner of his eye he saw Charlie and Vaggie come running, so he played into this despite how embarrassing it felt. “It-it was the first thing that popped up!” he squeaked.

Alastor’s terrifying aura flickered like a dimmed radio bulb—his full eldritch horror snapping to sentimental softness in the blink of an eye.

“The first thing, you say?” he purred, glowing eyes fixating wholly on Takuma now, completely abandoning his hunt.

Takuma flushed deeper, trying and failing to shake free from Alastor’s claws on his shoulders. “It—it just happened! It was instinct! I’m under stress!”

“Oh, how lovely, you cried out for your Papa.” Alastor practically swooned, his shadows receding as he brought both hands to cradle Takuma’s cheeks.

Behind them, the toad let out a groan of pain and dragged himself away on stunted limbs, his deal forgotten. Ritzo blinked at the horrifying mood whiplash in front of him.

“It’s not that big of a deal!”

“You wound me with every denial, darling. Papa, what a perfectly sentimental honorific. I must embroider it onto a handkerchief immediately.”

Before Takuma could protest further, Charlie’s voice rang out behind them, breathless. “Takuma?! Oh, thank Satan—we saw your pin drop, are you okay?”

Takuma tried to peeled himself free as Charlie and Vaggie jogged up, Charlie immediately reaching for him and Vaggie scanning the alley for threats, but Alastor just pulled him back against him.

“I’m fine,” he huffed. “But this is Ritzo, and that was almost a soul contract with some creep named Mr. Malcolm.”

Charlie immediately softened, switching from worried sister to redemption team leader. “Ritzo, hi! I’m Charlie—this is Vaggie. We run the Hazbin Hotel. You don’t have to take any deals today, alright? We’ve got food, shelter, and a shot at something better.”

Ritzo, still wide-eyed, glanced between them and then to Takuma, who nodded firmly.

“You can trust them,” Takuma said. “We help people like you all the time. No strings.”

Vaggie stepped forward with the calm, practiced tone of someone used to de-escalation. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” Ritzo mumbled.

“Good. You’re coming with us. You don’t have to do anything else today but eat and rest. Sound good?”

Ritzo blinked a few times, then nodded. “Yeah… okay.”

Charlie beamed, already gesturing toward the street. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

Takuma tried again to wriggle free, but Alastor’s shadows coiled lazily around his waist and lifted him up without ceremony. With a flick of static and shadows, the two re-materialized under the crooked wrought-iron arch that marked the entrance to Cannibal Town.

“Papa,” Alastor hummed again, like testing a beloved tune. “It’s got a lovely ring to it, don’t you agree?”

Takuma, now perched on his shoulders like precious cargo, groaned and dropped his face behind one of Alastor’s ears. “It’s embarrassing. I’m not a toddler.”

“Oh, but it suits me,” Alastor chirped. “Warm, familiar and terrifying in the right light. I shall be Papa from now on.”

“You can’t just decide that.”

“We agreed, my darling: when the title fits, it stays. I’ve decided it fits me.”

Takuma groaned harder but made no attempt to climb down, he knew a losing battle with Alastor by now. He crossed his arms and leaned over onto Alastor’s head, being careful of his antlers but otherwise not worrying about messing up the demon’s hair or the tickle of his deer ears against his cheek when Alastor twitched them on purpose.

“Why are we in Cannibal Town? Have you finally decided I’m plump enough to eat?” Takuma joked.

Alastor’s delighted chortles vibrated beneath him. “Heavens no, my darling boy! Though your sass has been aged to perfection. No, no—it's merely luncheon hour, and I did promise dear Rosie we’d pay her a visit. And now that you’ve so graciously mended my little... ailment, I see no reason to delay our indulgence any longer.”

Takuma made a face, “I’m not eating people, Alastor.”

“Hm? Whom are you addressing?” Alastor quipped, cane clacking with every measured step. “I’m afraid I only respond to Papa now. Fair warning, dearest.”

Takuma blushed and leaned forward just enough to blow sharply into one of Alastor’s velvet ears, making it twitch violently. “I didn’t agree to that. I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Alastor cackled, the sound bright and jarring as it echoed down the blood-bricked streets. Hollow-eyed demons nodded to him as they passed, and not a one gave Takuma a second glance—but the boy still tensed at the many jagged toothed mouths and too-wide grins around them.

Almost instantly, Alastor’s shadow blanketed his back, curling gently around his shoulders in an icy embrace. One shadowy claw patted his head with slow, soothing strokes.

Takuma grumbled but didn’t swat it away. “I’ll say it again—I’m not becoming a cannibal.”

Alastor gave a sigh, theatrical and fond. “Pity. It would certainly simplify ensuring you stayed with me in Hell once you kick the proverbial bucket, my dear.” He rounded the corner with flair, pausing in front of a grand, round-topped building. “Alas, I shall not force it. Rosie’s menu does, blessedly, cater to the more selective palate. No dismemberment required.”

He opened the door with a flourish and dipped low enough for Takuma to duck inside safely beneath the jingle of the entry bell.

Inside Rosie’s Emporium, the scent of smoke, spice, and something vaguely roasted filled the air. The jazz playing from the wall-mounted gramophone shifted as they entered, almost like it recognized them.

Rosie, halfway through a conversation with a demon dressed straight out Alastor favored time period, looked up and beamed.

“Alastor!” she sang out. “And our favorite little snack is with you.”

The demon she’d been speaking to nodded and took the cue, tipping his hat toward Takuma before slipping out the side door.

Alastor, without missing a beat, swept Takuma down from his shoulders and placed him neatly on the ground. His hands landed on the boy’s shoulders with possessiveness, red eyes gleaming with pride.

“Rosie, dearest,” Alastor purred, “we find ourselves in a most dire predicament—our bellies are empty, and our spirits, faint! A table for two, if you please. My darling boy is in need of nourishment. Something hearty and wholesome. Preferably non-sentient, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Rosie chuckled and grabbed two menus, already turning toward a table tucked in the corner. “Your sure in a betta’ mood then last time we spoke, Alastor.” She noted.

Alastor grinned ear to ear, his shadow helping tuck Takuma’s chair in and stayed glued to his back with a dopey smile. “Well, we settled on a title, and it’s brightened my spirits considerably.” He replied and waited to sit so he could push in Rosie’s chair before he took his seat next to Takuma.

Rosie looked a bit confused but smiled all the same. “And what title is that? Goin’ for somethin’ other than Radio Demon?”

Alastor shook his head with a good nature chuckle. “Oh no, nothing like that. Takuma and I believed the title of Father and Dad was not what I should go by, we’ve had a bit of a spell trying to come up with the right fit. But just a little bit ago, he came to his own conclusion, in the heat of the moment. He called me Papa!”

Rosie moved with his glee and grinned big. “Oh congrats, Alastor dear! I was sure you’d like going by Daddy.”

Alastor shrugged and poured himself coffee from the carafe, his shadow pouring Takuma’s tea before he could even move towards it. “I would have been pleased with it yes, however Takuma called me Papa on a random street when he needed me, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Takuma sighed and drank his tea when it was put into his hands. “I didn’t call you Papa because I needed you. I was trying to make it clear what you were to me to that stupid toad.”

“Ah, Mr. Malcom, Alastor dear he works for Vox, he’ll know all this now if you didn’t already eat your fill.” Rosie cautioned, there was a ding in the back, and she excused herself to the kitchen.

Takuma frowned and stared at his tea. “Did I cause a problem for you?” he asked quietly.

Alastor shook his head. “No, never. Though I feel more at ease with my cane fixed to deal with that lout. I never wanted to keep what you are to me a secret, I just wanted to keep you out of danger of that flatheaded fool.” He assured his child and reached over to cradle his small face in his claw. “I am much too proud of you to hide away what you mean to me.” He murmured and ran a clawed thumb over the apple of Takuma’s cheek.

Takuma brightened considerably at hearing this and smiled up at Alastor. “Alright, alright. I guess I can call you Papa… but if people laugh at me—”

Alastor was suddenly nose to nose with him, his eyes dials. “I’ll kill anyone who disrespect you, my darling. Anyone.”

Takuma looked at his terrifying visage and reached out to touch his face. “Okay, I trust you, Papa.”

Alastor visibly melted at the sound of it. His whole form seemed to shimmer, the static in his shadows purring like a satisfied radio. He didn’t even blink as Takuma’s fingers rested gently on his cheek, grounding him in the moment.

“Say it again,” he murmured, eyes flickering warmly.

Takuma rolled his eyes, but the grin tugging at his mouth betrayed him. “Papa.”

Alastor’s grin was all teeth before to nuzzled their faces together.

Rosie returned from the kitchen with a balanced tray in each hand. She slid one in front of Takuma—a crisp salad of leafy greens, hellfruit slices, and perfectly grilled fish with a citrusy glaze that shimmered like it came from the living world. In front of Alastor, she laid a deep dish of thick, red stew and a single blood-glazed femur nestled beside it like a garnish.

“Aw aren’t you two just a pair,” she said cooed, “I can’t wait to see how adorable you two are when you’re killin’ sinners together!”

Takuma flushed as Alastor clasped his hands in front of his face like a worshipper receiving communion. “You remembered the bone marrow garnish,” he breathed reverently.

“I’m not a monster,” Rosie replied, patting his shoulder before moving to drop off napkins.

Takuma poked at his salad with cautious approval. “This smells… really good. Wait, is this actual fish?”

“Shipped in fresh daily from the Gluttony Ring,” Rosie said without missing a beat. “Best fish you’ll ever taste my dear, go on an’ dig in!”

Takuma blinked, then glanced at Alastor’s bowl. “And that?”

“Someone named Ted,” Rosie answered. “He had too many opinions.”

“Delicious,” Alastor crooned, twirling his spoon. “Ted tastes like bureaucracy and guilt. Mmm, earthy.”

Takuma made a face and scooted his chair away from Alastor, his shadow still wrapped around him sniggered into his curls.

When Alastor finished his meal, he mentioned to Rosie he needed to run a quick errand across the street. She shooed him and promised no harm to his boy. Though still Alastor’s shadow stayed right where it’d been, looped around Takuma’s shoulders and petting his hair.

“You’re really happy about the Papa thing too, huh?” Takuma mumbled into his tea and felt the shadow’s glee.

“I guess I could call you shadow papa, is that okay?”

The shadow shrilled like a creaky door and nuzzled the side of his face and leaving an icy kiss as well before settling back around him like a frozen blanket.

Rosie didn’t make a sound as she sat the seat across from him.

Takuma startled slightly. “Oh. Hi.”

She smiled, all teeth and lipstick. “Hello, sugarplum.”

Her black sockets tracked him for a beat too long, gleaming under the soft light of the emporium. Her coffee cup sat in front of her untouched, steam curling like smoke off a simmering spell.

“Didn’t take you for the brave kind,” she said softly.

Takuma blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Rosie tilted her head. “You’ve really put your neck out there, deary.”

She traced a long red fingernail down the side of the coffee cup.

“You called him Papa, in the middle of the city. To a witness. A talkative one.”

Takuma shifted, suddenly less comfortable in the cozy corner table. “I didn’t mean for it to be such a big deal.”

“Oh deary, I know but it was.”

Rosie’s smile didn’t falter, but her voice turned quiet and razor-sharp.

“You’ve made yourself a flag, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, that word put a stake in the ground. And you know what people do with flags in Hell?”

Takuma didn’t answer, Rosie went on like she didn’t expect him to.

“They burn them. They try to steal them. They parade them through the street. Or worse—they use them as bait.”

She leaned in, resting her elbows on the table. “You think Alastor’s dangerous when he’s possessive? Wait ‘til you see what happens when someone tries to take somethin’ he loves.”

Takuma stared into her eyes—bottomless and black yet he knew she could see him clearly.

Rosie reached across the table and, surprisingly gently, brushed a lock of hair out of his face.

“I don’t say this to scare you, sugar,” she murmured. “I say it, so you know where you stand. You’ve got a family now. And in this Ring, that means people are gonna come sniffin’.”

Takuma swallowed. “So, what do I do?”

Rosie leaned back, her grin returning like a blade being sheathed. “You stand your ground. You let Alastor be the monster when you need him. And when you don’t? You be the boy who makes monsters smile.”

Alastor returned just then, whistling a jaunty tune and sliding into the chair beside Takuma, placing paper bag in front of him like a gift.

Rosie rose with her coffee in hand. “You should go soon. This Emporium’s about to get loud.”

“Why?” Alastor asked, curious.

“Because that loudmouth toad has probably reported back to his boss about the boy who called the Radio Demon Papa,” she said sweetly. “And some folks don’t know how to mind their business.”

She turned to Takuma and winked. “Lunch is on me. Be safe now, sugarplum.” She waved and took her cup with her as she greeted the new guests who walked in.

Alastor tsked and stood, his mood not soured per say but he was on alert. Takuma stood as well and decided to be a little selfish, he walked over and reach up to Alastor, who perked up and swooped down to pick his boy up and put him back on his shoulders. He grabbed the paper back’s handles and with the other hand summoned his cane, and walked to the door, bidding Rosie a goodbye before walking out the door.

The moment Alastor stepped outside with Takuma perched comfortably on his shoulders, a familiar static crackled through the air like TV snow in summer.

The scent of ozone was subtle, but unmistakable. Takuma tensed, his hands tightening slightly in the soft fabric of Alastor’s coat.

Alastor stopped mid-step, one polished shoe tapping the pavement. “Well,” he said, voice honeyed but taut. “Speak of the devil’s circuitry.”

Across the street, leaning against a billboard that had once been plastered with redemption flyers, now crackling and curling at the edges, stood Vox.

His screen-face flickered with a toothy grin as he clapped, slow and mocking. “There he is. The family man himself. And look at this—lunch and a show.”

Alastor didn’t respond. His smile was flat, not sharp, the kind of stillness that came before something terrible.

Takuma shifted slightly, trying not to tense too visibly, but Alastor’s shadow had already risen along the boy’s back like cold armor, protective and possessive.

Vox clicked his tongue and stepped off the curb. “Now, don’t get all prickly on me, Al. I just came to say hello. Mr. Malcon’s been croaking about some street scene—said a little mortal dropped the ‘P’ word in public.”

Alastor’s cane tapped the pavement once. “You came all the way down here for gossip?”

“Gossip,” Vox said, taking a step closer, “and opportunity. You know me.”

“I do,” Alastor murmured. “That’s precisely why you should turn around and scuttle back to your tower of screens.”

Vox ignored him and tilted his face upward toward Takuma, who leaned down slightly, frowning behind Alastor’s twitching deer ears. “So, this is the kid, huh? The one you’re spending all your shadow energy on?”

Takuma didn’t respond, just ducked his head a little further behind one of Alastor’s antlers and glared, he felt his own magical hackles raise, frost coating fingers and a cold mist pooling around the two.

Vox’s screen flickered. “You’re making waves, kiddo. That’s good, Hell’s been a bit stale.”

Alastor’s smile sharpened a degree. “He’s not for sale. He’s not a pawn, and if you so much as finish that thought—”

“Relax,” Vox interrupted, holding up his hands. “I didn’t come to fight, I just wanted a look. That’s all, Lucier’s hex made it impossible to see Junior.”

His eyes slid to Alastor’s cane. “Glad to see your toy’s back in one piece. Must’ve taken some real juice to fix a curse like that. Wonder who paid the cost?”

Alastor’s grip tightened on the cane. “You wonder too much.”

Vox’s grin didn’t fade, but his tone dropped a few degrees. “Well, I guess we’ll all find out soon enough.”

And just like that, the air fizzed around him, and he was gone—static and smoke fading to nothing.

Takuma let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his hands still nestled tight and cold into Alastor’s shoulders.

Alastor didn’t move for a long moment. Then he exhaled slowly through his nose, one hand reaching up to lightly rest against the boy’s knee in a grounding gesture.

“Was that… gonna turn into something?” Takuma asked quietly from above.

“Not today,” Alastor murmured, starting to walk again, shadows coiling around them like armor. “But soon.”

He glanced up briefly, offering a small, genuine smile that reached the corners of his crimson eyes.

“Don’t worry, my darling. Whatever he’s brewing, he’ll find we’re not so easy to tune out.”

Chapter Text

When the two stepped back into the hotel, Lucifer was waiting for them. Alastor put Takuma down and gave him a pat on the head, “I need to get the tower ready, if I’m to have a co-host for the afternoon, I should make room.” He explained and disappeared into his shadows.

Lucifer frowned at the way he said co-host like it was an unwanted pest, but grabbed his kid and portalled them both to his penthouse. Takuma fixed his glasses and immediately took the script handed to him.

“Did you mention Sir Pentious? By name?” he grilled, going to sit down on one of the plush pristine white couches.

“Yes! I still have your list of names from the summer.” Lucifer explained and pulled up the piece of paper for Takuma to see.

The boy’s expression softened and moved so they were leaning against each other. “Great, I’ll read through this and see if we need to add anything.” He replied.

Lucifer grinned and wrapped an arm around him, this is when he noticed it, Takuma had grown a little. They were almost the same height now, with almost a year of proper food and care, he was finally showing growth. It made Lucifer both proud and teary-eyed, because he wasn’t going to be his small baby boy soon.

“You forgot to mention the catering for the grand opening, Alastor will use it against you so make sure you put that in.” Takuma spoke up and took a pen to add it in the margins.

Lucifer winced as he watched Takuma kindly but critically tore his script apart, the boy was very organized and detailed but always softening the blow to show he noticed someone’s hard work.

Lucifer’s red eyes misted over, and he pulled him into a hug, causing Takuma to yelp in surprise. “You’re such a good boy! Please don’t grow up anymore, I want you to stay cute and soft forever.” He said and curled around him.

“Dad stop! We’re only halfway through this!” Takuma exclaimed and squirmed away from the King.

Lucifer sniffled. “Why does Alastor get to smother you, but I can’t?” he grumbled and wrapped around his son. “Keep going, we can do this while I soak up your attention.”

“… I called Alastor Papa today.” Takuma murmured.

Lucifer gasped and tilted his boy’s face up so he could look down. “He’s going to be so much easier to handle this evening, I bet that left him in a great mood!”

“Yeah, he’s really happy. But Vox showed up and made threats.” Takuma winced at watching Lucifer’s eyes bleed red.

“What exactly did TV head say?” he asked calmly.

“He said something about how I’m going to make Hell interesting, said he wanted see what I looked like close up, nothing that would have caused Alastor to attack him right then, but they were veiled threats for sure.” Takuma answered.

Lucifer didn’t move for a long moment. He just stared at his son—his mortal son, his mortal son who had summoned him on accident and who now leaned into him so naturally, like they had always belonged like this.

“I should’ve been there,” he murmured, brushing his thumb under Takuma’s eye with surprising gentleness. “He shouldn't have been able to get that close. I don’t care how charming Vox thinks he is. You’re mine. You don’t get threatened.”

Takuma sighed and leaned against him again, not exactly hugging back but not pulling away either. “We were in public. If Alastor had gone full eldritch, there would’ve been a riot.”

Lucifer grumbled. “So, we let him run his mouth and walk away like it’s acceptable behavior?”

Takuma gave him a dry look. “That’s literally your entire brand, Dad.”

Lucifer looked personally attacked. “Rude, I rule this domain, I can get away with that shit.”

“Next time you can show him that,” Takuma said, lips twitching into the barest smirk.

Lucifer sighed and let the moment settle. He watched Takuma make small edits in the margins, underlining key phrases and correcting a date with a scribble and a frown. The boy was a little machine when he got going. Focused. Sharp. Unshakably determined.

Lucifer reached over and gently mussed his hair.

“I meant it, you know,” he said softly. “About you being a good boy. You keep this family together more than you realize.”

Takuma ducked his head again, pretending to study the script. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You are,” Lucifer agreed. “And after this broadcast, I’m treating you to dinner wherever you want. I remember you did like that seafood place back in Florida.”

Takuma shook his head with a smile, but it softened again quickly. “You’re not mad I called him Papa?”

Lucifer’s face scrunched, a complex knot of emotions flitting across his features. “No. Not mad. Jealous, maybe. But only because he got to be called that in public before I got to be called dad.”

Takuma blinked, stunned. “You’re already my dad.”

Lucifer smiled wide and crooked. “Yeah, well, I want everyone to know you’re the son of the King of Hell, the Radio Demon isn’t that great.”

He ruffled his boy’s hair again, this time leaving the curls a little messier on purpose. “Alright, little coordinator—this script ain’t gonna polish itself. Let’s make Alastor’s eye twitch with how good this is.”

Takuma smirked. “I want to see steam come out of his ears.”

“Now that’s my son,” Lucifer beamed.

Together, they bent back over the script, the bond between them warm and unshakable in this moment. By the time they arrived at the radio tower, the final script was triple-proofed, annotated in three colors, and had exactly one glitter sticker of a bat wearing sunglasses—Takuma’s idea, placed directly beside the catering mention.

Lucifer held the neatly stapled script like it was a divine relic. He glanced sideways at Takuma as they portalled into the tower’s entry hall, where the air smelled of ozone and something faintly scorched. “Do you think he’ll notice the sticker?”

“Oh, he’ll notice,” Takuma muttered. “He’ll act like he doesn’t. But he’ll twitch. I give it five seconds before he snipes about formatting.”

Lucifer snorted. “You know him too well.”

“I live with him,” Takuma deadpanned.

Lucifer now just needed to create a portal to take them up to Alastor’s tower, but he just stood there, overthinking.

“You nervous?” Takuma asked, sliding his hand into Lucifer’s.

“About the show? No.” Lucifer hesitated, squeezing the hand. “About getting chewed out by the Radio Demon in his lair? Not even a smidge.”

Takuma didn’t laugh, he just pulled on Lucifer’s hand. “You’re gonna be great. You’ve already done the hardest part—you didn’t run away from fixing the mistake.”

Lucifer gave him a crooked grin and bumped shoulders. “So, you’re saying I’ve won you over.”

Takuma rolled his eyes but smiled. “We’ll see.”

The portal appeared before them and both stepped through revealing the control room glowing in red and gold. And at the heart of it all, perched at his broadcaster’s desk like a spider in a web, was Alastor. Lucifer and Takuma hadn’t ever seen the first tower, but the newly built one was bigger than the last they’d been told. There was a couch with a small coffee table and a vintage lamp further in. The rest was metal and had that creepy killer vibe leading to Alastor’s workspace.

He was already sitting at his broadcast panel with his own script in hand and glowing faintly from the ambient feedback of his tower, he didn’t need headphones as he was the radio waves, his radio cane leaning against a panel nearby with a hot cup of coffee steaming a safe distance away from his equipment.

“You’re late,” Alastor said without looking up, his voice smooth as a wax record. “And if you brought me more papyrus scribbled with PR drivel, I shall eat it. Slowly. In front of you.”

Lucifer held up the stapled packet with a flourish. “Script. Finalized. Vetted by our in-house ice prince of an editor.”

Alastor finally looked up, his eyes locked on the glittery sticker, the corner of his eye twitched and Takuma elbowed Lucifer discreetly and had to bite his lip.

“…You put a sticker on it,” Alastor said flatly.

Lucifer beamed. “A sparkly sticker, from our dear boy, with my full support.”

Alastor’s ears twitched as he rose from his chair. He walked over with slow, deliberate steps, each click of his shoes matching the cadence of static crawling through the walls. He grabbed the script from Lucifer’s grip and skimmed through each page.

His fingers lingered on the catering section.

“…You included the shrimp tower. Acceptable,” he muttered.

Lucifer leaned back on his heels, hands stuffed into his pockets, grinning like a schoolboy who’d just passed a pop quiz. “So, we’re good to go?”

Alastor’s eyes glittered with mischief.

“Oh, we’re going, dearest. I’ve even set the intro jingle to loop until you get your cue right.” He smiled with sharp teeth. “Don’t worry—I made it idiot-proof. That means you should only need two tries.”

Lucifer chuckled low and leaned in. “Oh, are we starting with foreplay already? Should I roll up my sleeves?”

Takuma rolled his eyes and stepped away from them both. “Goodbye, please don’t do weird shit on air.”

As Takuma ducked out, Lucifer stepped into Alastor’s world, the Radio Demon materializing him a chair beside his own with a mic, and the moment Takuma stepped through the portal the atmosphere around them shifted to something electric.

Takuma stepped out of the elevator and stretch his stiff arms above his head, making his way towards the lounge to see if Husk would be alright with some company. The sinner usually didn’t mind if he hung out at the bar, said it was better than him going outside where he can’t be watched over.

The mortal was immediately grabbed by multiple arms and carried like a sack of flour.

“Hello to you too, Angel.” Takuma greeted and took the moment with a bit of grace.

The spider deposited the prince on one of the velvet couches, Charlie and Vaggie were already there working on something to do with opening day no doubt. Ritzo was nearby as well, finishing an apple and watching on his phone, when he heard them come in the rat sinner smiled at Takuma. “You didn’t’ tell me you’re a prince!”

Takuma winced. “I mean, that would’ve been pretentious and I’m kinda new, so it wouldn’t hold weight. But the Radio Demon looming over me worked for the moment.”

Ritzo smirked and looked to want to say more but Angel Dust interrupted everyone.

“Ladies, put down the paperwork and listen up!”

The women blinked and looked up at Angel.

“Now that I got ya’s attention. I’m takin’ the three of you’s out for a spa evenin’. The openin’ is ‘round the corna and you’s look like shit.” Angel explained.

“Excuse me—”

“Angel that wasn’t very nice—”

“I look just fine thank you, Alastor’s stupid dress code for ‘hotel workers’ bullshit notwithstanding—”

Angel held up two of his hands to silence them. “Ya need ya nails down, hair done and ta at least look like ya haven’t worked through ya sleep schedule.”

Charlie sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Angel, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don’t have time to just stop working right now.”

Angel huffed and crossed his arms. “Oh yeah, you’s gunna get a whole lotta sinnas looking like somethin’ the cat dragged in. I don’ wanna hear it, I booked ya’s at a spa I like, safe for the little prince an’ ya gunna go or waste my money I have on hold. What’s it gunna be?”

Takuma frowned and leaned back in his seat. “I guess I could get my hair a small trim, I’ve never had my nails down before.”

The women looked at Takuma with equal amounts of defeat. “Fine, alright, we’ll go.” Vaggie sighed and started putting everything away into their respective folders but there was a small smile starting to form at the thought of some pampering.

Takuma winced at a thought. “Alastor isn’t gunna like this.”

Ritzo came over, finishing his apple. “I thought he was papa.”

Every single soul in the room turned to Takuma with wide eyes and grins starting to overtake their faces, minus Husk but he was smirking.

Takuma glared at Ritzo. “I saved your soul and this is the thanks I get?”

The rat just looked confused. “So… he isn’t your papa?”

Takuma stared up at the ceiling, his face turning red. “Yes, he’s now Papa and ecstatic by it. He also said if anyone makes fun of me for it, he’ll eat you.”

Angel Dust leaned over to take up his view. “Who’s gunna make fun of Radio Baby callin’ for his Papa? That’s fucking adorable and I wanna see you call Smiles’ that where I can see his face.”

“Can we please not make a big deal out of this?”

Charlie appeared next, over the back of the couch. “Nooo, its perfect and cute! He’s such a Papa!” she squealed.

Husk sighed from the bar. “Fuck I bet he ate that shit up, maybe he won’t be so fucking pissy at the opening now that he’ll have that to distract him.”

Vaggie made a sound of agreement. “Takuma does make a great distraction for his more murderous tendencies.”

“Nah, he’s gunna eat anybody that looks at the ultimate good boy.” Niffty giggled.

Takuma pushed himself up and glared at everyone, Ritzo looked to be enjoying the scene unfolding, relaxing into the calm and playful vibe. “I will not be used as a distraction for anything. Alastor—”

“Papa.” They corrected in unison.

Takuma stopped talking and sat back, crossing his arms. “Are we going to this stupid spa or what?” he pouted.

The answering laughter made him blush more and sink into the couch, but Charlie pulled him out and hugged him close. “This just means you’re happy, and I’m happy for you.” She whispered and kissed his cheek.

“Yes, so happy.”

The spa was in a neutral zone, but the problem was they had to cross Vee territory. Takuma didn’t think it was smart for him to tag along with this in mind. Vox may not be able to see him but that hex just told Vox exactly where he was.

But Charlie just grinned. “Dad let me have portals back, I’ll just open up a portal and we’ll be good to go.”

Takuma perked up and smiled. “Alright, let’s go.”

Angel pumped several fists in the air. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Charlie chuckled and her portal appeared. Five souls and one mortal stepped through, Ritzo was not invited this time and he already said he was good, wasn’t his scene.

When they all stepped through on the street, Husk took up behind Takuma and kept his hands on his shoulders. “Boss is gunna throw a fit about this, you stay where I can see you.” He grumbled.

Takuma nodded. “I won’t wander, I can’t imagine he’s going to take this well either, but I got your back Husk.”

Husk chuckled behind him and herded him along with the rest of the group towards the entrance. They were greeted by a very pretty demon, Husk whispered to him that she was a succubus and to not be drawn in by her.

Takuma shrugged. “She’s pretty but I don’t feel any which way about it.” He replied and followed the group.

Husk looked down at him curiously. “What about that incubus over there?” he asked and pointed out a guy demon helping someone else.

Takuma looked him over and shrugged again. “He’s pretty too.”

The feathered cat hummed. “Guess you could be too young for that, but you are thirteen.”

Takuma looked up at him. “I’ve never really considered any of… that. I was more interested in surviving to adulthood.”

Husk sighed and rubbed the mortal’s back. “Well, not somethin’ to worry about now. Ain’t nothin’ gunna touch you with those two for parents.”

The boy grinned and nodded. “It’s a big change for me, I really don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.”

“I haven’t seen ya in the art room since the summer.” The cat mentioned and watch the boy close up. “Ya know, I may bitch about listening to drunks whine about their life, I’m always an ear for you.”

Takuma looked back up at him in shock. “… Thank you. I think you’re the first to notice.” He murmured.

Husk shook his head and rubbed his back again. “Boss knows, I just don’t think he knows how to bring it up. You’re shrine painting was saved during the cleanup, he put it up somewhere in that penthouse.”

Takuma wasn’t sure how he felt about that, he knew Alastor had kept it, he’d seen it when he’d been hidden away in his old suite. The sight had made him nauseous and then one day it wasn’t there, he’d found it tucked away in Alastor’s armoire covered in cloth and honestly hadn’t known how to feel that Alastor had been that observant.

“I don’t know how to bring it up.” He mumbled.

Husk sighed and out of nowhere brought out a flask and chugged it. “No problem kiddo, ain’t nothing that needs to be said right now. Like I said, you just come to me when you want to air it all out. Your little family is overbearing as fuck, I won’t smother you, and if you want it, I’ll do my best to give you advice.”

Takuma smiled and nodded. “Okay, thanks Husk.”

“Don’t mention it, ever.” He teased.

The succubus started parting everyone into groups, Husk refused to leave the kid, so he was stuck with him when Takuma was moved to a stylist’s chair. The stylist was a sinner, a curvy black floppy eared bunny with red eyes, her ears had several golden piercings all the way up each. She was in uniform and smiled at them both.

“Hi darlin’, ready to look brand new?” she asked and put the smock around his neck.

Husk sat in a waiting chair nearby and continued to drink, a succubus offered him beer and he happily accepted.

Takuma rolled his eyes and turned to the bunny. “Um, just a trim please. I like my curls, I want to keep them.”

The bunny smile turned genuine. “I like you’re curls too, somebody takes very good care of them, a lotta love is in those perfect curls.” She commented and went to work on washing his hair.

“Yeah, I don’t get much of a choice in that love and care.”

The bunny giggled. “Aw, momma’s just wanna make sure they’re babies look good.”

Takuma bit his lip and decided not to correct her, it was just too funny. “I’m Takuma by the way.”

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Bianca.” She replied.

Bianca was gentle with her paws, she said when she was human, she had curls too, and she still remembered how to take care of curly hair like his, so his momma wouldn’t be too put out by what he left with. Takuma thanked her and the two talked, seeming to click and become fast friends.

Husk watched in boredom, wondering how such a sweet kid was going to be the son of the Radio Demon, but at least he was also the brother of Charlie, that balanced everything out he supposed. He watched Bianca take each individual curl, which was passed the kid’s shoulders, and trim the dead ends.

“So, how’d a teenage boy get roped into a spa day?” she asked, giving the curl a final twist and letting it bounce gently back into place.

Takuma straightened a little. “The hotel’s reopening. I’ll be there helping with the reception and my sister and her friends wanted us to look our best. You should come—if you’re free.”

Bianca glanced at him in the mirror, visibly surprised. “You inviting me, lil’ prince?”

He scrunched his face at the nickname but nodded. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not just an idea anymore. We’re really trying to show redemption is possible we even got proof.”

Bianca’s expression flickered for a moment, like she didn’t quite believe it, but her voice stayed soft. “I’ll think about it.”

She swept the trimmed curls into a bin and gently pulled the smock off. “Alright, sugar, we’re almost done, gotta defuse your hair. While we do that, I’ll paint your nails.”

Takuma sighed and let her put some weird contraption over his head that looked like a giant diffuser on pole. “I hate this part, having to sit for this is murder, and I can’t ever get out of it.” He grumbled.

Bianca laughed and grabbed a few colors for him to choose from. “Your momma extra strict about it, huh?”

Husk coughed to cover his chuckles. “You could say that.” He wheezed.

Takuma smirked and choose a light blue color and Bianca got to work on his nails.

“Momma’s care about hair a lot, and that’s cause it’s the first thing people look at to know if a kid is well taken care of, especially curls. Your curls are as soft as satin and expertly molded, shows she knows how to keep the shape right. I’m surprised she don’t make you wear a bonnet.” Bianca explained.

The teen sighed. “I hate things on my head when I’m awake, I’d never fall asleep with one of those on. I can’t handle it.”

The bunny chuckled. “So, she does your hair every mornin’ and makes ya sit pretty until its done.”

“Yep.”

Bianca smirked and as she trimmed his cuticles she had to ask. “So, your sister is the princess of Hell, that makes ya daddy the king himself. But ya don’t look like the princess, so who’s momma?”

Takuma shared a look with Husk, but he just shrugged, it wasn’t like Alastor was hiding his connection to Takuma.

“Um, well, its Alastor the Radio Demon.” He answered.

Bianca froze for several minutes, before she looked up from his hand. “How did such a sweet summer child come from somethin’ so unbelievably nasty.”

He chuckled and smiled. “If you come to the gran reopening, I’ll tell you, but not here.”

The bunny tilted her head with curiosity. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Not a deal.” Husk snipped.

Bianca sighed and went back to the teen’s nails. “Justa figure of speech, kitty cat, calm down. Not everybody’s out here to enslave souls.” She huffed.

They lapsed into safer topics, like what was going to happen at the hotel and what kind of food. What did Takuma like to do in his free time, his favorite foods.

Soon enough though, Takuma hair was finished and so were his nails. Bianca even put little designs on his nails, foxes, she said he seemed clever like one.

“Alright, sugar, ready to see your new look?” she asked.

Takuma turned in the chair, inspecting himself in the mirror. It wasn’t drastic, just a more defined shape, a bit shorter, and more stylish. It felt… grown-up, kind of. He ran his fingers through the curls and smiled. “Looks great. Thanks, Bianca, a lot less frizzy than I’m used to.”

“Anytime sweetie,” she said with a wink, then gestured to the bottles by the mirror. “I’ll send you with a lil’ something to keep them happy, keep the frizz away.”

Husk sighed and summoned a bag, he grumbled but grabbed the bottles and stowed them away.

Takuma looked at him and frowned. “You didn’t get pampered, didn’t you want do something nice for yourself?” he asked.

Just then a demon popped up with another beer that Husk happily took. “This does make me happy.” He answered and chugged the beer.

Takuma and Bianca rolled their eyes and turned away. “Alright, your sister and friends are waitin’ outside. Go have a good night sweetie.” Bianca said and walked him to the arch way so he could find his group.

The warm, perfumed air of the spa hadn’t even begun to fade from Takuma’s curls when something familiar disturbed the air, a pulse of energy or wrongness he’d felt before.

“Something’s wrong.” He murmured to Husk, and the feathered feline tensed and looked around.

“Yeah, I feel it too, but it ain’t coming from in here.” He whispered back and downed the rest of his beer before his cards appeared in hand.

“You just stay close to me, no more of that hero shit from before.” Husk ordered and smirked when Takuma shot him an offended look.

Their banter was cut short by the sudden change in the lighting, the shadows sharpened, and the mirrors warped slightly at the corners.

Charlie, who jogged over to Takuma by now, stopped at the feeling and grabbed his shoulder protectively.

“Let me make a portal so we can—"

Then the wall exploded.

A pulse of white-hot light tore through the side of the building with surgical precision. Wings cut through smoke, the walls didn’t crumble—they were sliced clean, the tiles hissed beneath divine weight.

And in stepped Lute.

She moved like judgment with limbs, everything about her face drawn tight in a controlled sneer. Her sharp monochrome wings unfolded behind her, casting long razor-thin shadows across the room. The spa’s soft music glitched and stopped mid-note.

“Charlotte Morningstar,” Lute said, voice like a cracked bell, echoing even without volume. “Time to pay for the price for what you’ve done.”

Charlie stood up from the waiting area, instinctively blocking Takuma from view as her eyes went red and her horns came out. Vaggie was already reaching for a hidden blade. Husk stepped in front of Takuma without hesitation, his cards glowed with power.

“Oh great,” Angel Dust muttered, shielding Takuma with a second set of arms. “A bitch lookin’ for revenge. Just what we needed today.”

Lute’s wings didn’t so much flap as they carved through the air, their edges humming with divine resonance. Her sword pointed at the princess.

“You led Adam to his death,” she said, taking a step forward. “You sullied a holy cause. You should not exist.”

Charlie stood her ground and spoke with confidence. “Adam made his own choices. He came to Hell. He attacked my hotel. I gave him a chance to leave.”

“Lies,” Lute spat, her blade sweeping through the with a hum. “You corrupted Heaven’s mission. Your ‘redemption’ is a front for an uprising. You will burn for what you've done.”

Vaggie moved in, twin daggers drawn and glowing faintly with anti-angelic wards. “You wanna get to her, you’ll have to go through me.”

Lute didn’t blink. “Gladly.”

Takuma could barely breathe. Every part of him screamed to run, to hide, instead he touched Husk’s arm. “I can use my ice, I can make a wall—”

“No,” Husk growled, stepping in tighter, tail twitching with readiness. “No hero crap. You stay behind me, behind all of us. You’re not dyin’ in a bathhouse.”

Takuma rolled his eyes, it wasn’t heroic if he was trying to stay alive too. The temperature around them dropped and Takuma’s magic flared to life, mist trailing from his fingers as he ducked lower, teeth clenched.

“Charlie,” he hissed, “portal. Now.”

But Charlie was focused, locked into Lute’s gaze her hands glowing with hellfire. The angel stepped forward again, energy humming, and raised her hand for a killing blow.

Takuma felt that same gut wrenching feeling before when he saw Adam about to kill Alastor, he pulled at his magic and shot out his hand, a wall of ice blocked the blow and caused the room to be showered in shards of ice.

“What—” Lute hissed but Vaggie didn’t give her a second to think, attacking from behind and causing them both to tussle midair.

Charlie jumped to help, but it seemed Lute didn’t come without backup, two exorcists flew through the hole in the wall and came straight for her.

Meanwhile, Takuma stumbled back, and Angel Dust caught him by the arm. “What the fuck was that? Shit he’s bleeding!”

“What?” Husk hissed checked over his shoulder.

Angel used one of his thumbs to wiped away the blood trickling from Takuma’s nose. Takuma blinked several times and swayed. “Ah, I may have used way too much magic this morning to fix Alastor’s cane.” He murmured.

The two sinners froze in horror and in unison said, “You what?!”

Vaggie and Lute slammed into the wall nearby, while Charlie wasn’t holding back on the two other exorcists and Niffty somehow had her little knife and was laughing manically while climbing a decorative pillar so she could jump one of the angels.

Angel scooped Takuma up and held him close. “We need ta get the kid outta here.”

Husk scowled and pushed them back behind a desk. “No shit, I don’t wanna be the one to tell the boss why his kid is hurt. But if you haven’t noticed they’re blocking the fucking exit.”

“Pssst.”

Both sinners looked behind them and saw Bianca waving them frantically over. “This way, there’s a backdoor.”

Angel and Husk didn’t need to be told twice, let the power houses and crazy cyclops deal with the murder angels, the spider tucked his little mortal close and ducked down as they followed the black bunny towards the back.

Bianca opened the door and peaked at Takuma, he was rubbing his head with a scowl. “You weren’t kiddin’, that kinda power you’re definitely the kid of the devil. Still too sweet to be that Radio bitch’s kid.” she said and handed him a warm damp cloth for his nose bleed.

Takuma murmured a thank you and tried to stand, but Angel just wrapped an extra arm around him. “I got eight arms, this ain’t gunna workout the way you’s want it ta. Chill out.”

“Oh clever, so original.” The kid gripped.

Angel, despite the situation they were in, snorted a laugh. “Even in a life or death sich’, ya can’t help bein’ a smartass.”

“I’m told it’s a defense mechanism.” Takuma replied around the cloth.

“That mouth is gunna get you into trouble.” Husk cautioned.

Takuma shrugged. “I’m aware, foster parents don’t like back talk, never stopped me. If they’re going to hurt me anyways, I might as well make it worth it.”

“Ugh, I hate hearin’ ‘bout your fucking past. Ya life sucked ass before the Short King.”

“I lived it, I know.”

A second crash thundered through the spa like a freight train. One of the exorcists tore through the back corridor they were sneaking through. They dove for the four with their sword at the ready, however in the next second Charlie smashed into their side and landed in front of Angel and Takuma.

“Stay away from my brother.” She seethed, an echo behind her voice and fire on her breath.

Takuma blinked in awe. He had never seen her like this. Charlie always radiated sunshine, warmth, smiles that could melt even Vaggie's sharpest edges, now she was fury and flame.

Vaggie came flying into view, thrown like a ragdoll. She hit Charlie hard, knocking both girls to the floor.

“Charlie!” Takuma scrambled forward, only to be hauled back by Husk again.

“Don’t even think about it, kid.”

Through the smoke and divine static, the last thing anyone wanted to see stepped calmly into view.

Lute.

She walked through the wreckage like a blade through silk. Her black-and-white wings unfolded behind her, pristine and sharp, her eyes blazing gold with righteous wrath. Her mouth twisted in a sneer as she stared at the scene: the princess of Hell cradling her soldier, the sinners scrambling back.

“Well,” she said, twirling her blade, “they never told us about a prince.”

She looked directly at Takuma, then at Charlie. Her grin grew cruel.

“A son for a son.”

Charlie’s head whipped up, horror blooming across her face. “Don’t you dare touch him!”

“Adam was like a son to the Kingdom,” Lute intoned. “And you took him from us. The Morningstar family doesn’t get to walk away from that.”

A swirl of red and gold opened up into a portal above, Lucifer dropped from the rift like a falling star, suit half-straightened, his hair still tousled. He landed with his wings out, tail slashing and horns ablaze, red eyes burning, and took in the scene around him.

“Who touched my kids?” he seethed, voice intone with multiple voices.

Alastor stepped out after, his grin wide, though his bow-tie was undone and hanging around his neck and his shirt untucked. One look at Takuma and the shadows already began to slither. He adjusted his monocle calmly as he walked to the Angel Dust and plucked his boy up.

“My darling,” Alastor murmured, voice low and disturbingly gentle. “What have you done to yourself?”

Takuma winced as the cloth was pulled away from his face. “It’s just a nosebleed,” he muttered. “I pushed too much magic earlier. Nobody hurt me.”

The Radio Demon’s grin didn’t falter, but something behind his eyes flickered. His clawed hand cupped Takuma’s jaw, thumb brushing along his cheekbone, and held his face still like he was inspecting glass for fractures.

“You are bleeding,” Alastor said, as if the boy had dared lie about it. “And that is unacceptable.”

“Papa,” Takuma tried, voice muffled by the hold on his face. “I’m fine.”

But Alastor had already leaned forward—not like a predator, not to frighten, but with the steady, methodical care of someone cleaning up a child after a scraped knee. He pressed the tip of his tongue just under Takuma’s nose, collecting the blood before it could drip again, then used a handkerchief to wipe gently along the boy’s upper lip.

Takuma looked absolutely scandalized, stunned and frozen.

Angel Dust made a disgusted face his own. “Remind me in like eight years ta buy you a drink, kiddo, ya’s gunna need it.”

Husk was more interested in the battle behind them, because two of the assholes who came crashing their day out were dead and Lute was just thrown back into the building.

“I don’t know how many chances you need to get this through you thick skulls,” Lucifer hissed as the very ground beneath them shook from his rage.

“Go home and leave my family alone.”

Lute winced and a golden portal opened up overhead, she grunted as she pulled herself upright. “This. Isn’t. Over.” She hissed before quickly disappearing into the portal.

Lucifer, who grumbled about bitches who didn’t know their place and ruining the afterglow of a good time, snapped his fingers and the spa was completely rebuilt and the street fixed. He walked over to Vaggie and Charlie to heal them both.

“Sera is going to fucking hear from me in the morning.” He growled out.

Vaggie winced and looked him over before quickly looking away. “Uh, sir?”

“Hm?”

“XYZ.”

“What…?”

“Dad oh my gosh your pants.”

Lucifer froze, turned away from everyone with the distinct sound of a zipper going up could be heard. When he turned around his face was flushed gold. “Ahem, everybody through the portal.” He ordered as it appeared.

Angel Dust snickered at Alastor, who narrowed his eyes at him.

“Well, Smiles definitely ain’t a virgin now.” He joked and jumped through the portal before Alastor’s claws could swipe at him, a cackle echoing from the other side.

Niffty grinned as she walked by. “Yay for the ultimate bad boys!”

Husk sighed and lit a cigarette. “This some bullshit, I’m out here keepin’ your kid alive and you’re fuckin’ the King of Hell?”

Alastor ground his teeth together, looking ready to bite someone’s head off. “For the fact you did protect him, I’ll let that slide.”

Husk nodded. “As ya should, boss.” He replied and disappeared into the portal.

Lucifer and the girls came over, Vaggie and Charlie not looking at either of them as they went through.

The King of Hell cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck, “You uh, you go first.” He spoke.

Takuma came back to his senses long enough to turn from scandalized to furious and punched Alastor’s chest. “Don’t ever fucking lick me again! You gross cannibal weirdo!”

Chapter Text

The cracked neon of the I.M.P. office buzzed faintly overhead as Bianca leaned against the battered front desk, arms crossed and one long ear twitching in agitation. She had to resist the urge to pace.

Blitzø leaned back in his chair, a toothy grin plastered to his face as he spun a throwing knife lazily between his fingers. "So lemme get this straight, Flopsy. You want us to what? Snatch the Radio Demon's kid?”

Bianca’s red eyes narrowed. “If it’s necessary. Only if that monster’s hurtin’ him or getting ready to use him for somethin' sick. I’m not sayin’ you just grab him for no reason.” She pointed a finger. “I want you to check it out at their big hotel grand opening tomorrow. Blend in, watch. See if that boy’s in danger.”

Millie, perched beside Moxxie on the beat-up couch, tilted her head. “You got somethin’ personal against Alastor, sugar?”

Bianca's lips curled back in a tight smile that showed all her teeth. “Yeah, real personal, he wiped out my brother’s whole crew back when he was claimin’ turf. Ate ‘im, too, if the rumors are true. Maybe he’s playin’ the loving papa act now, but it doesn’t feel right to me.”

At her words, a noticeable shift went through the room.

Moxxie frowned and exchanged a look with Millie. “We… helped him once. When the kid was stuck topside. I thought it was the right thing. He seemed like he cared—really cared.”

"Yeah," Loona muttered leaning against the desk, idly scrolling on her phone, "but that was then. Could be different now."

Stolas, sitting primly at the desk organizing paperwork with an almost manic neatness, spoke up without looking at anyone. “Even well-meaning demons can become dangerous without realizing it. Power and protection… they can smother as easily as they can save.”

The room fell into a tense silence.

Blitzø flipped the knife once more and let it thunk into the desktop. "Alright, Bunny. You got yourself a deal. We'll crash their little party, nice and discreet. Check things out. And if the Radio Demon’s gone all Hannibal Lector on the kid—"

“We pull him out,” Millie finished firmly.

Moxxie nodded. “Quietly, safely, and without making it worse for him.”

Bianca exhaled, some tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Good, I just—” Her voice cracked slightly, but she covered it with a sharp grin. “—I ain’t gonna sit back and watch another good kid get swallowed up by that bastard.”

Blitzø gave a casual salute, grabbing a crumpled flyer from the desk. “We’ll be there. In and out. No mess... unless it’s necessary.”

The real chaos started with a friendly lunch.

Blitzø sat perched on the booth seat across from Fizzarolli, picking at a plate of fries while the imp jester inhaled something covered in syrup and glitter.

“So lemme get this straight,” Fizz said through a mouthful of sparkling pancakes, “Lucifer Morningstar—has a new kid?”

Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Not like he popped it out himself. It’s a mortal kid. But get this—he’s raisin’ him with a sinner.” He wiggled his fingers. “You might’ve heard of him, Mr. Creepy Radio Demon!”

Fizzarolli almost choked on his food. “WHAT?”

Blitzø leaned back and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta make sure that kid doesn’t end up splattered across the carpet when the hotel reopens, nobody's gunna mess with that red bitch.”

Fizz’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Ozzie’s gonna be pissed he wasn't told about his new nephew, he loves Charlie, always offering to send her stuff for her and her girlfriend.”

He pulled out his phone and, without an ounce of shame, started texting:

Fizz: "Hey babe guess what. Lucifer adopted a mortal kid. Also, he’s apparently dating the Radio Demon. 💀😂"

There was a beat. Then:

Ozzie: "EXCUSE ME?!"

Ozzie: "AND I WASN’T TOLD?!"

Fizz: "Just found out myself, Blitz got hired to checkout their reopening of that hotel Charlie's working on."

Ozzie: "😡 I’ll fix this. You’re coming with me."

Ozzie: "Don’t worry about sneaking in. 😈 I’ve got a better way."

Fizz snickered and flipped his phone around to show Blitzø.

“Looks like you're not just crashin’ the party anymore, Blitz. Ozzie’s making it official.”

Blitzø squinted at the texts. “Official how?”

Fizz wiggled his eyebrows as he read the texts rapidly appearing. “He’s hiring you for bodyguard duty.”

Blitzø choked on his drink. “The fuck?!”

Fizz just laughed harder. “Congrats, you got a free ticket to the event!”

Blitzø groaned and slumped over the table. “I hate my job.”

Fizz grinned wide enough to split his face. “You should be thanking us, your disguises are always shit.”

“My disguises are not shit!”

The Hazbin Hotel bustled with an energy somewhere between frantic excitement and barely concealed disaster.

Takuma stood at the kitchen counter, his brows furrowed in determined focus as he blew cold mist over a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Alastor, walking over with his child's breakfast, watched the whole production with narrowed, betrayed eyes.

"You wound me," Alastor lamented dramatically, his ears flattening. "After all I've done—one little affection, and now my coffee must suffer?"

Takuma, without looking up, took his breakfast and muttered, “One little affection was licking blood off my face like a popsicle. You’re lucky I’m only freezing your drinks and not your radio equipment.”

Lucifer snorted into his own mug of cream and sugar coffee from the table, looking far too pleased with the exchange. It was refreshing, he thought, that for once, no one was mad at him.

“Think of it like having an iced coffee, people like those.” Lucifer teased him.

Alastor grumbled and sipped from the mug, making a face.

Charlie came bursting through the door, clipboard in hand, obviously stressed and it was only six am. "Okay, okay," she chanted, "banners are up, balloons are up, the food will be delivered two hours before it starts, the welcome desk is ready with pamphlets on activities—good! Now all we need is actual sinners willing to redeem themselves."

"Minor detail," Vaggie said, following behind, thumbing through a checklist.

Angel Dust, sitting at the table eating his own breakfast, gave a wolf whistle. "If we ain't got bodies by dinner, I say we throw a party and count it a win."

"I like that plan!" Niffty cackled as she cleaned dishes.

Meanwhile, Alastor was still staring at Takuma with palpable offense. He pointed an accusing claw at the boy’s freshly trimmed hair. "And this," he said, voice a little more shrill than usual, "this betrayal, this trimming—done without my consultation!"

Takuma turned around fully now, lifting a brow. "It was just a trim. My curls are still there. You act like I shaved my head."

Alastor huffed and crossed his arms. “And those products she gave you, full of harmful chemicals. We’ll not be using them.”

Lucifer, absolutely no help, threw an arm around Takuma’s shoulders and ruffled his hair, much to the boy's squawking protest. “I think you look great, Duckling. Very polished and grown up.”

Takuma swatted at his hand, cheeks puffed in exasperation.

Charlie, walking by, added brightly, "You look amazing, Takuma! I love that they’re looser and frame your face.”

Angel Dust stood from the table to clean his own dish and winked. "You’s two got bigger problems—like how everybody knows ya been bumpin’ uglies in the radio tower."

Lucifer choked on his coffee, Alastor’s almost dropped his cane and Takuma scrunched up his face in pure disgust.

Charlie dropped her clipboard with a clatter and went crimson. "ANGEL!"

"What?!" Angel Dust cackled. "It's obvious! Ya both came back lookin' like ya'd been in a tumble dryer. Alastor’s bowtie was hangin’ off his neck like sad linguini!"

“I—it’s—we’re—” Lucifer sputtered, pointing helplessly between himself and Alastor.

Alastor recovered fast with a polished smile. “Whatever my evening activities entail, I assure you, they were conducted with utmost decorum... and a good deal of enthusiasm.”

Takuma buried his face in his hands.

Charlie just made a sharp "FOCUS" noise like a referee at a playground.

“We are welcoming guests TODAY,” she barked. “No sexy talk, no death threats, no drama until AFTER the party.”

“Maybe just a little drama?” Alastor asked sweetly, twirling his cane.

“No!” Charlie and Vaggie shouted at the same time and left the kitchen.

The reopening was about to start in an hour, tensions were high as Charlie and Vaggie ran around trying to make sure everything was perfect. Angel Dust, Takuma and Husk sat together playing Go Fish on one of the couches in the lounge, Niffty too technically but she couldn’t keep her attention on the game so they just gave her a deck of her own to make her little houses that was supposedly be used to trap the bugs.

Lucifer came around the corner from the hall. He stared at his phone in frustration as he tapped away, distracted and unfortunately a good target for a bored and attention seeking Radio Demon.

“That device has had enough of your time, you could be helping make sure the paint on the walls is dry, I do believe I said that was a job fit for your intellect.”

Lucifer blinked, refocusing to the world around him for a moment, he refused to rise to the bait and patted Alastor’s on the hip. “That’s nice, but I’m busy right this moment, why don’t you go check on Takuma. I’m sure he has time for you.” He replied absently and his brow furrowed back to his phone.

Alastor’s smile twitched, a pat on the hip, dismissed like a house cat.

He narrowed his red eyes at Lucifer, tilting his head with a dangerous sweetness. "Busy, are we?" he asked, voice honey-thick. "Too busy for your favorite demon? Your darling co-parent? Your—oh, I don’t know—soon-to-be source of public humiliation if you don’t look up at me this instant?"

Lucifer didn’t so much as glance up, his thumb tapping rapid-fire across the screen. "Mhm. Go pester someone else for a minute."

Alastor visibly bristled, the static hum in the walls of the hotel popping as he clenched his gloved fists.

Across the lounge, Angel Dust clocked it immediately.

“Oh, hell no,” Angel muttered around a playing card he was holding in his mouth. He looked at Husk and jerked his head toward the unfolding disaster.

“Get the kid,” Husk grunted, tossing down his cards. “Distract the Boss before he levels the place.”

Angel grabbed Takuma under his arms without warning.

“Wha—hey! I was winning!” Takuma protested, squirming as Angel practically yeeted him into the air like luggage.

“Change of plans, Radio Baby,” Angel chirped. “You’re now Operation: Emotional Support Kid."

Takuma flailed as Husk grabbed his ankles to steady him. In one practiced toss, the two sinners launched Takuma squarely onto Alastor’s back.

Alastor, who had been about to snatch Lucifer’s phone directly from his hands, jerked in surprise when a warm weight landed between his shoulder blades.

“My, my," Alastor said, his voice sliding into something gentler without him meaning to. "A surprise attack from the rear. How scandalous."

Takuma sighed and clung to him loosely around the neck, curling up as if he did this every day because, frankly, he almost did.

“Papa,” he muttered, forehead thudding softly against the back of Alastor’s head. “Please don’t start a fight before the party even starts.”

The title Papa hit its mark instantly, melting Alastor’s scowl into something fond and warm, he cracked his neck to nuzzle his face against Takuma's own.

Behind them, Angel Dust gave Husk a victorious thumbs-up.

Lucifer finally glanced up, saw the scene—Takuma perched like the tiny prince he was between Alastor’s shoulders, the demon’s arms coming up instinctively to hold him steady—and sighed, his irritation softening into an affectionate, if slightly exasperated, smirk.

“Is that what Takuma’s wearing to the party?” Lucifer asked, hoping to help the distraction along.

Takuma glared down at him. “I’m fine, nobody’s going to be paying attention to me.”

Lucifer snorted. "You're the new Morningstar prince. They're gonna be paying plenty of attention, Duckling."

Alastor chuckled lowly, a warm, humming sound in his chest. “Not to worry, my darling, I’ll be with you all afternoon. No one will dare bother you.”

Takuma did relax a little with his fingers curling idly into the collar of Alastor’s coat. “You have to be a good host though.”

“Nothing says I can’t be a wonderful host and hotelier with my favorite person by my side.”

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his phone that was still buzzing non-stop. “Duckling, just remember, when you’re done let me know, you can leave whenever you get overwhelmed.”

Charlie popped up, scaring Lucifer just a bit. “Of course! I know big crowds are a lot for you, TK. Alastor or dad can go with you, just say the word!”

Takuma sighed and snuggled closer to Alastor. “You all act like I haven’t been around people ever, I used to go on stage for piano and run track competitions all the time.”

Lucifer smiled and held up his hands. “But you never liked any of it for a reason, we just want you to feel safe.” He assured.

Alastor nodded along with this sentiment. “And if anyone upsets you, I’ll eat them like I did that toad. He had poison in his skin, made him a bit spicy.”

Takuma couldn’t hide his chuckle. “You’re gross.”

“You’re laughing, I believe I win.”

Just as they were all calming down, the tension for the party easing from their minds, Vaggie came storming in from the lobby like a rain cloud.

“Sir, is there a reason the Sin of Lust is here with his boyfriend and his bodyguards?”

Charlie blinked several times and looked at her clipboard. “Dad, did you forget to tell me you were inviting Uncle Ozzie?”

Lucifer frowned and pulled out his phone again. “I didn’t invite him, I can promise you that. But that would explain all the weird texts he’s been sending me.”

Coming around the corner after Vaggie was said Sin and his imp boyfriend with the I.M.P. crew.

“Luci! Charlie! It’s so good to see you both.” He greeted them warmly and pulled them each into one of his arms to hug them close.

Charlie smiled warmly through her gritted teeth. “Good. To see you too. Uncle Ozzie.” She gasped out.

Lucifer frowned at him and easily pulled free to sit on his arm instead. “What’re you doing here Oz?”

The Sin of Lust gently released Charlie, she stumbled back to her feet and Vaggie caught her arm.

Ozzie’s many faces glared at the King of Hell. “When were you going to tell me about my new nephew?”

Takuma felt Alastor shift around him, his shadows engulfing his form, changing his position from lounging on his back to Alastor’s favorite hold, the cradle. He held the mortal close and seemed to bristle at the imps that surrounded the room.

Takuma squirmed so he could peek out at one of them and wave. “You were there when the mountain lion was going to eat me.” He commented.

Moxxie blinked and smiled up at the mortal, waving back. “Yeah, name’s Moxxie, nice to see you still whole and uneaten.”

Takuma’s smile turned confused. “What do you mean? You saw Papa save me, I’m doing much better now.”

Millie came over and gave a worried smile. “Well, your Papa does have a tendency ta eat his fellow man.”

Takuma shrugged. “He won’t eat me.”

The two imps shared a look, one that said they didn’t believe him. Takuma found he didn’t like the idea of anyone thinking poorly of Alastor, even if their concern was a tad bit valid. Though before he could add more assurance, Alastor’s threatening bugle came from his chest and he began to grow, Takuma yelped and scrambled to grab at Alastor’s face to make him look away from the Sin of Lust, he didn’t know what was said but it didn’t take much for Alastor to get offended when it came to his new relationship or if his fatherhood was called into question.

“Papa, not right now, please!”

Alastor’s black eyes stared into blue before they dissolved into familiar red. “Perhaps its best we go back to the house, I don’t believe this is the company I want you to keep.”

Lucifer was beside them in an instant. “No, Al, it’s okay, Oz doesn’t mean any harm.”

The giant crouched down to appease his shorter companions. “It’s not you, red man, I didn’t mean to push buttons. Luci just never told me he’d moved on after the divorce! I mean, he’s not even wearin’ the ring.”

Oh.

The entire room zeroed in on Lucifer’s hand. Alastor more so, and indeed the ring was gone. The deer demon’s ears perked up at this before he could control himself, Takuma took this chance to break free and put some space between his parents, because they were undoubtedly about to get sappy.

The moment he stepped back, another imp in bright colors came to greet him. “Heya kiddo! Nice ta meet ya, I’m Fizz!”

Takuma turns and smiles, shaking the offered hand. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Takuma.”

Ozzie took the opportunity to greet him as well. “Aren’t you adorable, how old are you, eight?”

Takuma bristled instantly, balling his fists. “I’m thirteen!”

“Huh, kinda tiny for a teenager.” Blitzø muttered when he walked over.

Moxxie came to Takuma’s defense. “Some kids are late bloomers sir, I’m sure he’ll grow into himself soon enough.”

“Yeah, Moxxie, how’d that work out for you?”

“Excuse me sir?! Not every imp can be freakishly tall like you.”

Takuma tried to follow along wherever this was going, but it was only escalating. The Sin of Lust gave a deep and warm chuckle, and his giant claws came forward to gently scoop up Fizz and Takuma. The mortal wobbled but Fizz caught his hands in his own to keep him steady.

“Sorry kiddo, I keep missin’ the mark here. Let’s try that again, “Ozzie’s many faces smiled down at him. “Hi there, I’m your Uncle Ozzie and this is my boyfriend Fizzarolli, it’s nice to meet you, little prince.”

Chapter Text

Having the Sin of Lust as an uncle was interesting.

Takuma didn’t’ really know how to act or what was expected, but neither Ozzie nor Fizz seemed to expect anything but a fun conversation with him while he sat on his massive shoulder. Fiz was just fun to talk to and kept making him laugh with silly jokes or tricks.

Asmodeus—Sorry Uncle Ozzie, would ask little questions about what he liked and things he enjoyed doing. He did ask if there was anyone he liked, and Takuma responded the same way he did to Husk.

“I’ve never really had the time to think about that, so I don’t know.” He shrugged.

Ozzie chuckled and reached over to tickle his side. “Well, if you need any advice, you come to Uncle Ozzie.”

Takuma grinned and pushed at his large claw. “You know who’d love to talk to you? Angel Dust.”

Asmodeus blinked in surprise before he smiled. “He’s here? I didn’t think this would be his scene.”

“He’s working towards redemption, he’s also a good friend.” Takuma replied and leaned over to try and find his spider friend.

 Fizz made a panicked sound, and his robotic arms wound around the mortal’s middle. “Hey, careful! Mister, tall red and scary, hasn’t been so keen on you being up here. Let’s not give him a reason to literally bite our heads off.”

Takuma tilted his head and eyed said demon, seeing Alastor talk with Carmilla and her daughters—who also wouldn’t stop staring at Takuma—but his stance was rigid and smile tight. Takuma rolled his eyes and sat back down, Fizzarolli wrapping around him like a safety vest.

“That demon excludes kill you vibes.” Fizz shuddered.

Ozzie smirked and waved at a sinner who called out to him. “Lucifer never did pick the soft types.” He responded.

Takuma sighed. “Alastor is just protective, Vox has made a point of trying to get at me to get to him. Having all these sinners in here and the invitation extended to Overlords too has him on edge.” He explained and sent a smile and wave to Ritzo. “The moment you put me down, I’ll end up glued to his side.”

Ozzie frowned. “Vox, the TV sinner?”

Takuma nodded. “Yeah, he has a history with Alastor, I couldn’t tell you what.”

“Evening, gentlemen.”

The three looked down and Valentino smiled. “Always good to see you, boss.” He purred.

Takuma made a face and ignored the Overlord, catching sight of Angel Dust clocking the interaction and making a beeline over them.

Ozzie raised a brow at Valentino but greeted him all the same. “Hey Val, didn’t expect you to show up here.”

Val shrugged and puffed his cigarette. “Always a good idea to see what fresh meat there is around here. These new sinners are chomping at the bit for a place to stay, the Princess can’t house them all, so I thought I’d be generous and offer shelter.”

Takuma huffed and gently pried himself free from Fizzarolli’s hold, he jumped so suddenly that Fizz and Ozzie moved as one to catch him, but Angel was already there. The spider smirked at the mortal and put him on his feet.

Val smiled at the boy. “Somewhere to be, little Prince?”

Takuma spared him a glance over his shoulder, his eyes cold. “Anywhere is better than near you. By the way, you can’t scout souls here. This is Alastor’s territory.” He answered as he walked away with Angel.

“I thought that would be Papa, to you, or was that just an act?” Val called out and smirked when Angel glared at him.

“C’mon kiddo, not the person ta bother with.” The spider murmured.

But Takuma was bad at following orders, and he turned to Val, not seeing the bait for what it was. Ozzie frowned and went to step in between them, but Alastor beat him to it.

The Radio Demon appeared beside his son and with deliberate care, Alastor nestled his palm to Takuma’s cheek, claws resting lightly along his jaw—an unspoken reminder to the world of who held him. He tilted the boy’s face up, their noses brushing as he leaned in, smile wide but deceptively soft. Then, with calculated ease, he turned his head just enough to lock eyes with Valentino, gaze unsettling in its stillness, before sealing the moment with a soft kiss to Takuma’s cheek.

“There’s no question here, Valentino,” Alastor purred. “The boy is my child. Papa is reserved for me alone.”

When Alastor stood to his full height, he took a step forward, moving between Takuma and the room like a wall of velvet and violence. His cane tapped once against the floor—a polite warning—and shadows rippled outward, parting the crowd like a curtain. The path to the door became unnaturally clear, and every soul smart enough to recognize danger slunk out of the way.

Valentino frowned around his cigarette, taking a slow drag to mask his unease. Smoke curled between his teeth as he gave a tight smile.
"A bit testy, Radio Demon. I meant no harm to the little prince."

Alastor’s grin widened, but it no longer reached his eyes.

“No harm yet,” he corrected brightly. “And your presence alone is offense enough.”

Valentino shrugged lazily, but his hand twitched like he wanted to reach for a weapon and thought better of it. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and ground it out under a polished shoe.
"Suppose I can take a hint," he drawled. "Wouldn’t wanna get redecorated tonight."

Takuma, half-shielded behind Alastor's coattails, stayed silent, feeling the tight coil of his guardian's power vibrating in the floorboards. It was the kind of silence before a record scratch—the kind before blood.

Valentino tipped his hat to the boy, then to Alastor. "Enjoy your party, folks."
And with that, he sauntered toward the open path, leaving a slick of tension in his wake.

Alastor didn’t move until the hotel door slammed shut behind him and the shadows curled back to their master’s feet.

Only then did Alastor glance down at Takuma, his smile warm and real again, and crouch to straighten the boy’s slightly mussed vest.

“Terribly sorry for the interruption, my dear,” he murmured, brushing a curl from Takuma’s forehead. “Now, shall we find you a slice of cake before some other unsavory pest wanders in?”

Takuma smiled despite himself, the tension bleeding away from his shoulders.
"Yeah, Papa. Cake sounds good."

Angel made himself known and rubbed the boys shoulders. “Sorry, didn’t know he was around.”

Takuma and Alastor looked at him perplexed. “My dear effeminate fellow, this is a party, no one expected you to be on guard. That’s my job.” The overlord replied smoothly and took one of Takuma’s hands.

“Perhaps the Sin of Lust would like to hear how Valentino runs his staff, I’m sure he’d be delighted with the details, my good spider.” He added casually and left the sin and the sinner to talk while guiding his son through the crowded room.

Takuma was never touched by any of the sinners around them, no one even looked at him as they walked towards the tables filled with free food. The sinners who mingled around the area were gone by the time Alastor and Takuma walked up.

“Now, I know I said cake, however I do remember your slight aversion towards too much sweetness, would you instead enjoy the fruit tarts?” Alastor asked, looking down at his child curiously.

Takuma hadn’t been looking at him, too busy scanning the faces trying to stay clear of the Radio Demon. Alastor narrowed his eyes and looked up sharply without moving his head, many a sinner jumped, and the crowd moved back further.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the demon murmured, giving a gentle squeeze to the smaller hand in his own.

“Val was here, he was trying to get me away from Uncle Ozzie. Vox must be here too then,” Takuma stated and turned back to Alastor. “I don’t think they expected you to be watching so closely.”

Alastor hummed and grabbed a plate, his tendrils picking up the tarts and other goodies for Takuma to eat. “I don’t believe they meant to kidnap you, though they wouldn’t let an opportunity go if it were freely given. However, Vox is obsessed with having a talk with you. He was a cult leader when he was among the living, a fake televangelist. He’s good at manipulating, and he can hypnotize his victims. Best you steer clear, darling.” Alastor warned as though he’d just talked about the weather.

Takuma frowned and turned to look back at the crowd, but when he did Blitz popped up to block his view.

“You heard the creepy fucking deer, eyes front and center, Tacoma.”

Takuma blinked at the wrong name and bristled. “That’s not my name!”

Blitz laughed obnoxiously and grabbed something from the table to stuff into his mouth. “Listen up Curls—”

Takuma glared and his fingers frosted over just for a moment, Alastor perked up and his ear swiveled in their direction, momentarily pausing his piling of food. He thought he’d get to witness Takuma unleash his anger, but in the next moment the boy took a deep breath and calmed himself. Alastor hemmed in disappointment and went back to grabbing more food for his little mortal.

“—Vex isn’t someone you fuck with, listen to Daddy Deerest, heh, and the rest of us will watch for that flat faced bitch.” Blitz explained and winked at Takuma, the charm was lost with his mouth full.

Alastor wondered not for the first time what the imp might taste like, but first his mortal needed to eat. “Come along, darling,” he lilted sweetly, brushing a hand against Takuma’s back. “You need a proper meal before I start entertaining dreadful thoughts about roasting imp.”

Blitz made a gurgled sound of offense, but Alastor paid him no mind as he set Takuma up at a table that was vacated seconds ago. He made sure the table was clean, and a glass of water and a glass of whiskey was waiting for them both. Takuma sat and picked at the pile of food while Alastor stood behind him, sipping at his expensive drink.

A toothpick with olives and mini onions was held up for him, Alastor’s sharper points softened in the moment as he took the offered food and ate it, toothpick and all.

“More for vodka, but much appreciated darling.” He joked and sipped his drink.

Lucifer found them soon enough, his face pinched at the slight downturn of his mouth and around his eyes. He sat next to Takuma and rubbed his eyes.

“Ozzie will be around more, apparently Angel told him how Valentino got him to sign his contract. He’s livid, not that I blame him, but he’s a headache to have around all the time. And Mammon isn’t going to like the thought of Oz in my ear more, he’ll be around soon enough. Fuuuuuuck.” He cursed and removed his hat to run anxious fingers through his hair.

Takuma’s brow furrowed. “Mammon is the Sin of Greed?” he questioned hesitantly.

Lucifer nodded absently. “Yeah, spider like, fat as fuck and just as annoying.”

“Do the Sins not get along?” his son asked curiously, offering a carrot to Lucifer.

Lucifer took it and tossed it into his mouth, crunching down and swallowing before he answered. “Big personalities clash, and I haven’t really been trying to mediate that in a few centuries.”

Alastor placed a glass of apple flavored bourbon in his claws. “Are you thinking of changing that?”

Lucifer sipped the drink, and his shoulders relaxed at the smooth burn down his throat. His red eyes flicked to Takuma, who looked back curiously. “Yeah, I’m beginning to think I’m doing a disservice to my kids by not making sure everybody remembers who their Daddy is.”

Takuma snorted and rolled his eyes, going back to his food. Lucifer chuckled and snagged another carrot to munch on.

“So, how’s the party Duckling?”

“Fine, ran into Val, papa took care of it. Vox is probably somewhere around here too though.”

Lucifer scowled and downed his bourbon in one go, but the glass magically refilled. Alastor’s claws found his shoulders and his arms loosely curled around him, his whiskey scented breath was in his ear as he purred. “Relax, wherever he is, Vox won’t get what he wants tonight. He’ll waste his time watching us, leave in a huff and have nothing to show for it.”

Lucifer shivered and turned his head just slightly, meeting crimson eyes that stared back half lidded. The King hummed and kissed his smile, the demon returned the kiss briefly, mixing the taste of apple bourbon and bitter biting whiskey for a moment.

The lights and sound system fizzled out around them, Lucifer and Alastor pulled away from each other, sharing a smirk. Lucifer snapped his fingers, and everything came back to life within seconds.

“Hope he liked the show.” Lucifer purred under his breath, Alastor laughed outright, making any sinner close by jump away.

Takuma ducked away from Lucifer and Alastor, telling them not to follow because he was going to the bathroom.

Takuma pressed his back against a far wall, hands stuffed into the pockets of his neatly pressed trousers, trying to make himself invisible. His nails still faintly shimmering from the salon trip, and his tailored vest looked sharp in the pastel purples and pinks Lucifer had put him in. If he showed that this was getting to be a bit too much, he’d have to sit in the swamp house alone for the rest of the night, and that honestly sounded boring.

Across the room, Alastor was speaking animatedly with Carmilla, Lucifer at his side trying to keep him from derailing into some monologue about culinary cannibalism. Charlie was handling the greetings with Vaggie like a pro, keeping the atmosphere light and bright with that party vibe of fun and dancing.

Takuma sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the elaborate chandelier. Maybe he could survive this without being underfoot too much.

“Yo, Kid.”

Takuma startled slightly and glanced to the side, blinking up at a tall, sharp-edged, half-bored figure looming nearby.

Loona stood there, arms crossed, towering over him in her leather jacket and ripped jeans. A cigarette dangled unlit between two fingers, tapping idly against her thigh.

"Looked like you were tryin’ to melt into the wall," she said dryly.

Takuma smiled, polite and sweet. “Just taking a moment.”

Loona smirked and leaned against the wall beside him, tilting her head back too. “I get it. Big crowds suck.”

Takuma let out a sigh, “Yeah,” he replied, staring up again. “I’m not great at… peopling.”

Loona gave a snort of laughter. “Most people aren’t worth the effort.”

Takuma chuckled under his breath. “You sound like Husk.” He said and discreetly pointed at the feather cat at the bar.

“Cat’s got a good idea then, stick with the ones who don’t try to screw you over.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment, watching the chaos unfold. Takuma could feel the tension bleeding out of his shoulders just having someone casually standing beside him without treating him like fragile glass.

“So, when we saved you, no one said you were Charlie Morningstar’s baby brother.” She said, putting the cig away in her jacket.

Takuma shrugged. “It was complicated then, still is complicated now but less so where I belong and moreso I don’t want the coronation bullshit. But yeah, Charlie’s my big sister.”

Loona barked a laugh. "Yeah, welcome to Hell. We all got 'complicated family stuff.' You’ll fit right in."

Takuma cracked a real smile this time. "Thanks, I guess?"

Loona smirked and held out her fist, Takuma blinked several times, remembering seeing other kids in the halls of school doing this and he lifted his own fist to bump against hers. He tried not to grin like an idiot, but the look Loona was giving him said he was failing.

A drunk sinner stumbled by, getting a bit too close, Loona just kicked him hard in the chest and sent him flying into another group. Takuma stared open mouth at the chaos before looking up at her. “Whoa.”

Loona grinned and gave his shoulder a shove. “You’re Dads are the King of Hell and the Radio Demon and that was over the top?” she teased.

“They really don’t do the ‘beating the shit out of people’ in front of me thing. They think it’ll scar me.”

Loona chuckled. “Are you traumatized now?”

Takuma rolled his eyes. “No, I’ve definitely seen worse things, I’m not delicate.” He promised.

Loona hummed and tapped at the wall. Takuma side eyed her and noticed her tension return, the way she was struggling with what to say.

“Whatever you’re trying to say, just say it. I can tell when someone is fishing for information.” He prompted.

Loona blinked and looked down at him. “Yeah, I guess we both know what that looks like.” She replied.

Takuma nodded at her to continue, Loona sighed and rubbed at her neck.

“Are you safe? I mean, really safe? Alastor is a fucking cannibal and insane. We should have been more careful when we got you out of that forest, we just let him take you and didn’t check up on you or anything—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Takuma soothed and held up his hands, he looked around before grabbing one of her claws and tugged her to follow him.

They walked down one of the blocked off halls, towards a quieter part of the hotel. He used a bit of magic and unlocked a door, they walked in, and he turned on the lights, revealing a piano and sitting area.

Takuma took a seat at the piano bench and Loona sat in a chair nearby, crossing her arms.

“Okay, this is a better place for this type of conversation, but we have to be quick, Alastor will notice I’m gone in a few minutes.” The mortal cautioned and turned to her.

“Alastor is the best thing that ever happened to me.” He stated calmly, Loona blinked and her ears drooped.

“But, what if he’s grooming you? What if he decides to eat you?”

Takuma smirked. “Lucifer will never let that happen, he’s also one of the best things to ever happen to me.” He replied.

The mortal took a deep breath and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I know what Alastor is, I know what he does and what he can do. I’m not naïve.” He started and tried to find the right words.

“But Alastor is also everything I ever wanted, what I would wish for when I was all alone. Someone who always has open arms, who gets my humor and likes it, someone who likes me. He never wants the curated me, the person I make for others, he likes that I ruin his hot coffee by making it cold, he likes when I talk back. He calls me perfect when I’m the furthest thing. He’s not a good person, but he’s perfect to me.” He rambled and looked up at Loona.

“I think, out of everyone, you should kind of get what I mean.”

Loona sagged in her chair. “Yeah, I really do get it kid. But if you ever need me, I want to be there. Us throwaways need to stick together.” She said and held out her hand, Takuma blinked and scrambled to pull out his phone and hand it over, watching Lonna put her number in.

“You don’t have to just text or call me for help, if you just wanna talk to a friend, I’d like that too.” She added with a smile.

Takuma took his phone back and looked at her with big eyes. “But you’re eighteen and I’m thirteen. Isn’t that cringy for you?”

Loona chuckled. “Who the fuck cares, besides, you don’t act like a normal thirteen-year-old, so I think we’ll be cool.”

Takuma grinned at her and held his phone close. “Cool, yeah, I can be cool!”

The two shared a moment of camaraderie, which lasted maybe thirty seconds.

A familiar static began to build—an odd pressure in the air like the swell before a jazz trumpet blared. Then came the hum of a vintage radio, warbling through a frequency no one had tuned into in eighty years.

Alastor’s voice cut clean through the air behind them. “There you are my darling!”

Takuma sighed and quickly put his phone away, “Right on queue.” He complained.

Alastor materialized at his side a moment later, cane swinging jauntily and grin sharp as ever. “I thought I’d lost track of you, I did warn you to stay where I could see you.”

Takuma sat straighter and smiled for his papa. “I just needed a minute away from the loud.”

Alastor calmed down with a sigh and moved to sit beside him, “If you’d like to go back to the house—”

“Please don’t, I don’t want to be alone all night.” Takuma insisted.

Alastor blinked and wrapped an arm around him. “Darling of course not, we could play a game together or read a book. I wouldn’t just dump you at the house.”

“But your job—”

“Is to take care of you.” The demon interrupted this time.

Takuma leaned into his side and closed his eyes. “Could I just play some music for you here?” he asked.

“Of course, I love to hear you play.” Alastor replied and let go so they could adjust themselves towards the piano.

Takuma didn’t pull out any music sheets, he had something he’d be practicing for a bit, no words yet but he hoped once he felt more comfortable, he could sing a little of the song to Alastor too. For now, he just played softly—nothing showy, just a warm, familiar melody that drifted through the room. Alastor leaned back, eyes closed, smile soft and genuine now.

Loona watched them for a little while, before long though her phone buzzed and she stood to leave. Alastor’s eyes opened to watch her suspiciously, but Takuma just pulled him back with a soft word.

“It’s okay.”

Outside the room, Blitz was waiting, arms crossed.

“Verdict?” he asked.

Loona looked back at the door before turning to her dad. “We would be dead before we made it to the lobby, that guy isn’t going to hurt the kid, but he’d end us in a second.”

Blitz sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that was my thoughts too. C’mon, let’s tell the others.”

The hotel was quieting at last, the once-roaring party now simmering into the gentle afterglow of clinking glasses and soft jazz.

It was well past two in the morning.

Most of the guests had filtered out. Charlie and Vaggie were chatting with Ozzie and Fizz at the bar. Lucifer had his coat draped over his shoulders as he went over final press notes with Angel Dust for the morning news with Katie Killjoy. Alastor? Last Takuma saw, he was chasing a drunken sinner who tried to pee in a potted plant.

Takuma took up a spot at the bar to sit with Husk, he covered a yawn with the back of his hand and laid his head on his arm. Husk chuckled above him and his paw rubbed at Takuma’s back.

“Why dontcha head on up and I’ll let the Boss and King know to meet you up there.”

The mortal opened his eyes to look at Husk, who smiled back with amusement. “You lasted longer than I thought you would. I bet you’d be asleep on the Boss's back by midnight.” He teased.

Takuma’s sluggish thoughts took a moment to register what he said, but when he did his brain was too tired to fight his impulse control and he raised a middle finger at the cat.

Husk laughed in delighted surprise. “You should be more yourself, the real you is a dick.”

Takuma grumbled out. “I’m blunt and direct, there’s a difference.” But he still pulled himself up and hopped off the stool. “G’night, Husk.”

“Night kiddo, don’t let Niffty’s bug’s bite.”

Millie and Moxxie were on one of the couches he passed by, and Takuma waved goodnight before he turned for the hall towards the elevator. The hall was dimmed to indicate that it wasn’t for party guests, it seemed someone didn’t get the memo.

“You throw one Hell of a party, kid,” came a silky voice, smooth as glass and twice as cutting.

He was leaning against the wall across from him, one leg crossed over the other, arms folded, the glow of his screen-face flickering with a smug, slow grin.

Takuma stopped in the hallway, looking past the Overlord so they didn’t meet eyes directly, Alastor’s warning still ringing clear in his mind.

“You caught me at the wrong time, I’m not interested in polite conversations.” Takuma said simply.

Vox chuckled and came closer, his screen brightened the hall in blue. “What’re you, eighty? I’m not stuck in the past kiddo, you can talk like you’re in your own century.”

Well fuck you, maybe I just talk like this.

“Oh, so you do have some bite in there.” Vox praised and Takuma tensed realizing his filter didn’t stop his thoughts from leaving his mouth.

Takuma sighed and ran fingers through his hair, despite how bad this was, Vox couldn’t touch him here, truly if Takuma was as smart as everyone said he’d scream for help and Vox would be fucked.

But Takuma wasn’t that smart when he was itching to know what the Overlord wanted.

Curiosity and cats they say.

“Spit it out Shark Tank, I’m tired and not in the mood for this shit.” Takuma ground out.

“You’ve really made a splash tonight. Everyone is talking about the new Morningstar kid, especially after that display in front of Val. Alastor might as well have pissed on your shoes.”

Takuma wrinkled his nose at the imagery, he still kept his eyes trained away from the screen in front of him. “Yes, okay, you don’t like my Papa, that’s really not my problem.”

Vox let out a low whistle, the corners of his screen rippling with static. “Papa, huh? You kids and your daddy issues. Must be nice having a monster to tuck you in at night.”

“You wouldn’t know, I’m sure.” Takuma snipped and decided he had enough and tried to go around him, Vox just stepped in his way.

“Oh, I do love a sharp-tongued orphan,” Vox said with mock delight. “You’re a real firecracker. Bet that’s why Alastor likes you—reminds him of his mother, or maybe one of the last things he ate that screamed.”

Takuma flinched, just a fraction. “You have a lot of theories for someone whose best plan is lurking in hallways.”

Vox smirked and tilted his head. “Better than being a footnote in someone else’s headline. Look around, kid. You’re not you anymore. You’re the Morningstar’s mortal, the Radio Demon’s boy. You don’t even get to introduce yourself without a resume of who owns you.”

Takuma scoffed and looked at the wall. “That’s rich, coming from someone who can’t even hold a picture of my face in his hard drive. No one owns me.”

“Oh no?” Vox stepped in, closer now, casting him in a cool electric glow. “What do you think that little nose kiss in front of Valentino was? A sweet moment? That wasn’t love, kid. That was a claim. You’re a walking banner.”

Takuma shrugged. “Seems to have worked, no one but you have the guts to talk to me now.”

Vox whistled. “Oh, he’s spicy. Look at you. Mouthy, clever, loyal. You’ll burn bright, no doubt.” His tone dipped lower. “And burn out faster. Because someone like Alastor doesn’t keep pets. He keeps trophies.”

Takuma tried to keep his heart steady, because certain beings in this hotel had his beat on lock if something was wrong. “Are you sad, Vox, that you weren’t one of them?” he taunted.

Vox leaned in, voice syrupy. “Nah, because unlike you, I don’t need a guardian to protect me. Let me ask you this—what happens when he gets bored? When you stop being the shiny new thing? Think the King’ll keep you around once you’re not useful?”

Takuma wanted to glare at the screen, but he had a bad feeling, this was all bait to get exactly that.

“You know, for a guy built on screens, you sure spend a lot of time obsessed with someone else’s reflection.”

That stung. Vox’s face glitched briefly, smile twitching too wide before smoothing again.

“No obsession here kiddo, just somebody looking out for a tyke way in over his head.” He assured and fixed his jacket.

“See you think you belong here, but you're just a mortal, sweet, painfully young, and surrounded by demons who see you as a novelty. Some of them, sure, they care—but that won’t stop Hell from chewing you up. You can’t even stop yourself from bleeding when you use too much magic. What happens when someone really wants to test how far your family would go to keep you safe?”

Takuma’s voice came out quieter but firm. “They’d burn the world down.”

Vox leaned in close, his screen flickering just enough to simulate static. “And how much of you will be left in the ashes, kid?”

Takuma’s jaw clenched. He wanted to punch Vox, or run, or scream—but instead he just glared at the wall past him, his voice steady. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working. You don’t care about me. You’re just trying to piss off Alastor.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Vox purred. “I don’t need to piss him off, I just need him distracted. And you? You’re the best distraction I’ve ever seen.”

He stepped back with a chuckle and flicked his fingers toward Takuma in mock farewell. “Just remember, kiddo—when you burn out trying to keep up with a bunch of immortals, I’ll be there to put out the flames if you let me.”

Takuma rolled his eyes, “Never going to happen, I’ll take hellfire over your tender care.”

Vox only chuckled, it echoed down the hall, he turned with casual ease and strolled down the corridor, humming tuneless static under his breath. The dim overhead lights buzzed faintly as he passed beneath them, flickering like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to reveal him or not.

He vanished through the front doors moments later, unnoticed by the chattering crowd still nursing their drinks and lingering at the bar.

Unnoticed—except by two.

Alastor’s shadows twitched unnaturally before he even turned his head, and Lucifer, mid-conversation with Ozzie, froze mid-sentence. Both men looked toward the front lobby at the same time.

“Was that—?” Lucifer began, his voice low and dangerous.

Ozzie frowned and looked that way. “TV for brains? Yeah, didn’t even know he was here.”

Lucifer stepped away and sent his magic pulsing through the hotel, finding Charlie a little drunk but safe with Vaggie, and Takuma down the hall towards the elevator.

“One sec.” Lucifer called to Ozzie and disappeared.

The two arrived at the same time, Lucifer grabbed him first, pulling him around to check his eyes. “Hey, you alright Duckling?” he asked, his golden magic flowing over the boy’s form, searching for any mind control.

Takuma shrugged and gave a tired smile. “I’m fine, I didn’t look at him—”

Alastor growled from behind them in the darkness, his own form materializing beside Lucifer. “You should have called me, I told you to stay away from Vox.”

Takuma looked offended and that just made the two men more frustrated.

“He’s not under Vox’s influence, small blessings and all that.” Lucifer grumbled and continued examining Takuma’s face, smoothing back a curl with gentle touch. “But you are exhausted. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Takuma stepped back just slightly, trying not to melt under the intensity of their worry. “I told him I wasn’t interested in talking. He just… wouldn’t shut up. Started saying weird stuff—trying to get under my skin. You know. Typical creeper behavior.”

Alastor’s radio crackled behind his teeth. “What did he say?” The words came soft, but beneath them was something feral.

Takuma hesitated.

Lucifer’s red eyes narrowed. “Takuma.”

“He said… I’d burn out trying to keep up with you guys. That I’m not like the rest of you.” He crossed his arms, jaw tense. “That when I crash, he’ll be the one to ‘put out the flames.’” He made air quotes, clearly annoyed.

Alastor didn’t speak. His shadows writhed behind him, pulling tighter, like wolves circling something they couldn’t sink their teeth into yet.

Lucifer grumbled and picked Takuma up, but Alastor wasn’t done yet.

“And what did you say, darling?” Alastor asked quietly, like a parent asking if their child had remembered their manners before a stranger offered them candy.

Takuma rolled his eyes. “I told him I’d take hellfire over his ‘tender care.’”

Lucifer’s lips twitched into a proud smirk.

Alastor leaned in, rested his forehead to Takuma’s for a second, and whispered, “That’s my clever little fox.” He turned to Lucifer next, his smile razor-thin. “How did he get so close?”

The King frowned. “I don’t know. He shouldn’t have been able to. My wards are nothing to joke about—ancient, tailored to intention, laced with seraphic binding runes. If he came in with ill will toward anyone inside, especially TK or Charlie, they should’ve snapped shut like a vice.”

Alastor's ever present smile dipped at its edges, eyes narrowing to glints of burning static. “Then either Vox has acquired something he shouldn’t have… or someone helped him slip through.”

Lucifer’s jaw flexed. “Someone who knows how to bend ward logic without breaking it. Someone old. Or close.”

Takuma blinked up between them. “Wait. You’re saying he didn’t get in because the wards failed. He got in because someone knew how to avoid triggering them?”

Lucifer nodded grimly. “They didn’t break. They bent.”

Alastor’s shadowed expression didn’t shift, but his ears twitched in quiet agitation. “Magic that ancient doesn’t bend easily, Lucifer. Not unless it’s understood—intimately. That’s not something a tech-addled little screen-monster like Vox should have access to.”

Lucifer’s eyes shimmered faintly with gold, a tell-tale flicker of celestial memory behind them. “No, not unless he’s working with someone—or something—that remembers how the foundation of those wards were laid.”

He didn’t say anything more, but the weight behind the silence said plenty.

Takuma frowned. “So… someone old? Like really old?”

“Old enough,” Lucifer muttered. “Old enough to know what they’re doing—and bold enough to do it at my hotel.”

Alastor’s grin held no warmth as he added. “And if they’ve gone unnoticed this long… well, they’re either very clever or very stupid.”

Lucifer looked down at Takuma again, his expression softening in contrast. “Come on, Duckling. No more running off tonight. You did well—really well—but we need to keep you close until I sort this out.”

Takuma didn’t argue as they disappeared into the shimmer of red sparkles to appear in—

“Wait, why are we in Dad’s room?”

Lucifer smirked and with a snap of his fingers, he had them all in pajamas. “Sleepover sounds perfect for such an exciting night.”

Alastor’s little hum of disapproval at his suit disappearing followed them as Lucifer went to his massive king-sized bed and deposited Takuma in the middle. Alastor climbed into the bed and pulled his son close to his chest.

Lucifer smiled and kissed them both on the head. ‘I’ll be right back, I just need to say goodbye to Oz and Fizz.”

Alastor looked mildly scandalized. “You’re going back down there, in your night clothes?”

The King of Hell shrugged and brought out his top hat. “I’ll wear my crown, better?”

“That ridiculous top hat never makes any of your outfits better.”

Takuma yawned and snuggled close to Alastor, burrowing into his chest fluff. “Night.” He murmured.

While Alastor was distracted, Lucifer went downstairs, coming to meet his old friend at the door. “Hey, Oz. I do need a favor.”

Asmodeus smiled down at his friend. “Of course, need some toys to spice up your bedroom?”

Lucifer raised a finger to nix that but stopped short. “… Let me get back to you on that one. But that’s not where I was leading with this. Somebody knew how to fuck with my wards I laid out around this hotel. You deal in sinner gossip more than I do, if you hear anything weird or suspicious, let me know.”

Oz nodded along and stood to his full height. “I can do that, as long as you remember to bring the baby prince around and that deer of yours. No more isolation, Luci.”

Lucifer sighed and smiled at his friend. “I agree, I need to be more present. I’ll do my best.”

With that said, the two bid each other goodbye. Fizz was knocked out from too much to drink. Those imps and the hellhound had left a while ago, something about a mission accomplished.

Lucifer checked around the hotel, making sure everything was locked down and safe. He snapped his fingers, and the mess left behind was gone, his daughter and her girlfriend were put to bed and the food put away. Feeling better about waking up late to a cleaned-up hotel, Lucifer went back to his room and climbed into bed.

He smiled down at Alastor and Takuma, curled together in a chaos of limbs. Lucifer crawl forward and cuddled close, he kissed black curls and reached forward to kiss smiling lips.

No matter what happened, he’d keep his family safe. He wouldn’t fail them this time.

Chapter Text

The sun came through Lucifer’s giant windows behind the curtains, the red sunbathed the room in an eerie feel with the white and red colors in the room itself. The splashes of yellow from rubber ducks here and the circus themes of twinkling lights, the smell of freshly popped popcorn mixed with candied apples there.

Despite the long night into early morning, Alastor was already up and gone, leaving Lucifer and Takuma snuggled close, the King of Hell curled around his youngest and the boy clinging to his sleep shirt.

Lucifer woke up to the sound of his phone’s jingle going off, disturbing his peace and making him grumble, pulling his arms tighter about his child.

“Omph!”

Wiggling and wriggling made him frown and hold tighter, burying his face in soft hair and breathing in jasmine and that bite of citrus. He grumbled and yawned, running a soothing claw up and down the boy’s small back to pull him back to sleep.

Yeah, that wasn’t going to work when said boy’s face was smashed into Lucifer’s chest and he was unable to breathe.

Takuma squeaked in distress, trying to push his face up and finally freed himself enough to take a gasp of air. Suffocation was not the best way to wake up.

The phone’s jingling went off again, Takuma yelped as Lucifer rolled them over and he was underneath him now as he leaned over to blindly reach for his phone.

He never had this problem with papa, who was soft and cuddly.

Lucifer eased back, still being clingy but thankfully not squishing the boy. He thumbed open his phone, yawned again and answered with a sleepy “Yeah?”

“Uh huh… Mmhm… Yeah Pai’ ‘m listenin’, jus’ woke up.” He mumbled and rolled them again to lay on his back and Takuma curled into his side as he petted his soft curls.

Takuma glared up at him, waking up early took a lot of control with his hate for anything called early, being awoken by almost suffocating and then being manhandled like a pillow pet was not making him feel very compassionate.

“Le’go.” Takuma grouched and tried to pull away, but he didn’t move an inch with Lucifer’s vice like hold.

His dad turned sleepily and hushed him. “No Pai’, ‘m not shushing you, my baby boy is a grump when he first wakes up.”

There was silence on the other line.

“WHAT BABY BOY?!” came a shriek.

Both boy and King winced at the loudness and Lucifer scowled. “Hey, take it down a notch. We were up till almost three in the morning. Kid’s need sleep and so do Kings.”

“Lucifer what do you mean baby boy? When did you sire another child? When did Lilith—”

“Not Lilly’s kid, mine and Alastor’s kid.” He yawned and stretched, finally seeming to let go, Takuma scrambled like an angry cat to get away.

“Noo..” Lucifer whined and pulled him back. “Alastor never shares, I want my cute cuddles with you!”

Takuma growled out. “You are a terrible cuddler and I’m done being abused.”

Lucifer made him turn so he could look at him, his phone forgotten as Paimon yelled and shrieked like the bird he was. “I would never abuse you and I’m great at cuddling!”

“You almost killed me by squishing my nose and mouth into your chest. Abuse.”

“I’m sorry!” Lucifer whined again and peppered kisses on his face. “I’m a good Daddy!” he cried.

“Ugh, stop! Your breath is gross!”

Lucifer gasped, utterly betrayed. “I’ll have you know my breath always smells like apples—”

“—rotten ones?” Takuma snarked, finally worming out from under the King and flopping at the foot of the bed.

Meanwhile, Paimon was still screeching on speakerphone, his voice going tinny from the strain of yelling. “You sired a child with Alastor?! The cannibal! The... thing with antlers! You have touched horns and made yourself a—”

Lucifer flopped back dramatically with a groan. “Paimon, we didn’t touch horns, we signed adoption papers. Yes, he’s ours. Takuma’s our kid.”

Takuma, face still mushed into the blanket, mumbled, “Yeah. I came with trauma, sarcasm, and a chronic distrust of affection. Real steal of a deal.”

Lucifer thumbed on the camera and held out the phone. “Wave to Paimon.”

The boy lazily flipped a thumbs-up in the general direction of the phone. “Still alive. Probably regretting it.”

There was a pause on the line.

“The royals are going to love him, he’s got that soft look females love. You let that walking venison roast help raise him?!”

Lucifer shushed him with a wave. “Paimon, I don’t have time to explain co-parenting to you, you didn’t even help raise any of your own kids.”

“Sounds like a real catch,” Takuma mumbled.

Paimon gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but he needs a tutor, he can’t run around like an uneducated sinner. I’ll bring someone with me when I come to meet him, I want to see this mortal miracle baby with my own eyes and verify he still has all his limbs.”

Lucifer sighed. “Yeah, sure. Sometime next week?”

“What? No! I’ll be there this afternoon.” With that Paimon hung up.

“… Fuuuuuck…” Lucifer groaned and flopped back on his bed.

“Papa’s going to hate this.” Takuma grumbled.

“Yeah, I know.”

Lucifer groaned and dragged a pillow over his face. “I was supposed to spend the day cuddling my boy, not running damage control for a winged raccoon in a crown.”

Takuma sat up and scratched his head. “Do I need to put on a suit or something?”

Lucifer peeked out from under the pillow. “No, if he starts acting like a royal inspector, I’m stuffing him in a closet.”

“Can you do that to royalty?” Takuma asked, moving to sit crossed legged.

Lucifer grinned. “I already tried. Twice.”

They both turned their heads as the sound of classical jazz hummed faintly from the hallway, Alastor probably coming with coffee and breakfast.

“…Do we tell him now?” Takuma asked warily.

Lucifer hesitated. “On one hand, if we wait, he’ll be mad we didn’t tell him. On the other, if we do tell him, he’ll be mad sooner.”

Takuma slowly climbed back under the covers. “Wake me when Papa’s done having his aneurysm.”

Lucifer chortled and tugged the blanket over the boy’s head like a burrito. “Great, we’ll tell him together. Family unity and shared trauma.”

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open.

“Good morning, my darlings,” came Alastor’s chipper tone, too cheerful to be legal. “Did you know the butcher down the lane had fresh duck today? I thought perhaps a gumbo to celebrate our boy’s first party survival—”

Alastor paused at the tension in the room and his eyes narrowed.

Lucifer was still sprawled in bed, Takuma was a lump under the covers, and the air was way too guilty.

Alastor’s smile sharpened. “What. Did. You. Do.”

Lucifer cleared his throat and tried to sit up straighter. “Okay, before you do your usual dramatics, just know it’s Paimon’s fault—”

“—and I’m hiding,” Takuma added muffled from under the blankets.

“…Did Paimon touch our son?” Alastor asked, in a voice dropping into velvet threat.

Lucifer held up a hand. “No! No touching, but he is coming to visit. Today.”

Alastor blinked once. Twice. His smile didn’t falter, but the lights in the room did.

“I see.”

Takuma poked his head out. “He says I need a tutor.”

Alastor scoffed. “What you need is a nap, a warm breakfast, and to not be insulted by sky trash before noon.”

Lucifer sighed and climbed out of bed. “We’ll survive this, it’s one afternoon. Just keep your murderous tendencies slightly below the surface, buddy.”

Alastor’s smile was all teeth. “I’ll behave. Scout’s honor.”

“…You were never a scout.”

“Oh, but I would’ve looked dashing in the uniform.”

Takuma rolled his eyes. “I’m not ready for this.”

Alastor crossed the room and gently lifted the blanket burrito into his arms. “Too late, little fox, time to eat your breakfast and then get dressed. We must look presentable for our unwanted guest.”

The sitting room of Lucifer’s penthouse is lit up with soft golden lamps and the gentle clink of porcelain. The scent of chicory coffee and fresh beignets filled the air, and the morning fog outside the floor-to-ceiling windows gave everything a slightly unreal glow.

Alastor had, of course, conjured the entire breakfast setup with a snap of his fingers and a hum of static. A small table now sat in the center of the sitting area, complete with a checkered cloth, warm biscuits, fluffy scrambled eggs, slices of glazed ham, and a whole tray of fresh fruit, cheeses, and honey.

The Radio Demon set his bundled up child in an armchair, making sure he could pull his arms free before taking a seat for himself. Lucifer followed behind, yawning and shuffling towards his own seat with his silly duck slippers. “Nice spread.” He murmured and went for the carafe.

Alastor snatched the coffee first but poured him a mug before doing so for himself. Lucifer smiled that dopey way he did when Alastor was nice to him and started pouring cream and sugar into his coffee.

“Thank you dear.”

Before Alastor could take a sip of fresh hot coffee, a mist of cold enveloped his mug and the drink in hand went lukewarm. Alastor blinked down at the cup, smile twitching.

Lucifer snorted into his coffee. “Still on the coffee sabotage, huh?”

Takuma’s sleepy smile was equally warm and mischievous. “Still not over the face-licking incident. This is called consequences.”

Alastor chuckled low in his throat and took a sip anyway, unbothered. “Mmm, revenge tastes like regret and chicory. How Delightful.”

“You were up super early this morning. How are you like this?” Takuma grumbled, dragging the blanket tighter around himself like a sulky cat.

Alastor smiled far too serenely for someone being denied a proper cup of coffee. “My dear boy, unlike certain mortals who require beauty rest to maintain their glow, I simply am radiant.”

Takuma narrowed his eyes. “You’re radiating something alright.”

Lucifer choked on his drink. “Be nice, Duckling.”

“I am being nice. I haven’t frozen all his gross meat staches.”

Alastor gave a theatrical gasp, touching his cheek as if wounded. “The betrayal! After I slaved away over a hot stove this morning to make this breakfast just for you!”

“You do that anyways.”

“A great emotional burden every time it’s not appreciated!”

Takuma rolled his eyes and flicked a grape at Alastor, who caught it and ate it.

Lucifer leaned back in his chair, cradling his mug. “You two really are cut from the same chaotic cloth. I’m not sure if I should be proud or concerned.”

Takuma forked a bite of scrambled egg into his mouth and gave a muffled, “Yes.”

For a few minutes, the trio fell into comfortable silence—save for the occasional hum from Alastor or the sound of Takuma sneakily shifting the temperature of the coffee again every time the Radio Demon reheated it.

Then Lucifer sighed and reached for his phone. “Alright. He said this afternoon. That means sometime between lunch and me regretting all my life choices.”

Alastor hummed and piled Takuma’s plate with some fruit in that mothering manner of ‘you need to eat more’. “Well, it’s already ten thirty-eight. You’ve both practically wasted the day away.”

Takuma munched on some strawberries, he’d been quiet while his parents talked about the news and how successful the party was last night. Now that some semblance of wakefulness had come back to him, Takuma was turning over what Vox had said last night.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alastor murmured too close, making Takuma blink back to the present.

Both his parents were staring at him in equal measures of fondness and concern, Alastor having moved to sit beside him now.

“We called your name four times, Duckling.” Lucifer teased, pouring himself more coffee and heating it up before he took a sip.

Takuma put the plate of fruit down and pushed the blankets away. “Paimon hadn’t known you adopted me.”

Lucifer nodded. “We don’t speak a lot, just when he notices I haven’t signed anything in a few months. I don’t even think he knows about my fight with Adam.”

Alastor ignored the King and nudged Takuma. “Where has your mind wander, darling?”

“Paimon didn’t know I was here, he didn’t know I was mortal or that you even adopted me,” Takuma went on, staring off at nothing. “But Vox knew I was mortal, he knew a lot more than anyone else has.”

Lucifer blinked and sat straighter. “To be fair, the moment somebody meets you it’s easy to spot the mortal part. Nobody down here that isn’t hellborn has a heartbeat, and hellborn are a type of mortal.” He tried to reason.

Alastor patted his son’s back in comfort. “See? He was guessing, he is good at thinking on his feet I will give him that, but he isn’t smart enough to catch on to everything.”

“He called me an orphan.”

Both men paused and shared a look. “Hellborn can be orphans.”

Takuma frowned at them both and raised a brow. “I don’t look like any hellborn, I’m human, sure he guessed that right not hard too. But how did he know I was in the system?”

Lucifer frowned and couldn’t think of anyone who would have spread this information, he sat trying to rack his brain.

Alastor’s composure didn’t crack, but Takuma felt the way the claw on his back froze for just a half a second, as though a horrible thought came to mind, but then he was fine and rubbing Takuma’s back. “I’m sure someone ran their mouth where he could hear, it’s not something to worry about right now.”

Takuma looked up at his Papa, who smiled with warmth and bent down to kiss his head. “Come along darling, enough overthinking, let’s get you a bath and presentable for what’s left of the day.”

Lucifer sighed and stood from his seat. “I need to let Charlie know, and she’s not answering her texts. I’ll be right back.” He replied and disappeared.

Takuma stood from his seat and Alastor went about clearing the leftovers with a snap of his fingers and a twirl of his cane. He turned to Takuma and waved his hand towards Lucifer’s bathroom.

“Come now darling, hurry along, we still have to tame your hair afterwards.” He reminded the boy and put a hand to Takuma’s back, herding him along.

“It was your mouth.” Takuma said simply, refusing to move.

Alastor froze and looked down at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You told somebody, and it wasn’t Rosie. She’s in that deal with you so she can’t talk about me.”

The Radio Demon chuckled and pushed him into walking. “Darling, is that really something I’d do to you?”

Takuma was quiet as they walked, there was no tension, nothing to indicate he was right.

So why did he have such a gut feeling?

“You said your biggest punishment in Hell was the loss of your freedom, but you didn’t even know Dad owned your soul before you met me. Somebody else owns it, don’t they?” Takuma asked.

Alastor blinked, recalling an offhand remark in the library over the summer, something Takuma apparently never forgot and fell into his puzzle. He looked down at Takuma, who didn’t wait for a response.

“You wouldn’t put me in danger on purpose, but they wanted to know something, and you had to tell.” He put together, “It’s why you don’t want me seen. You don’t care about Vox and Val is scared of you. You don’t want someone scarier than you to know about me, but they do. You leave the hotel whenever you want, any of your errands could have been a farce to report back to your owner.” He went on, letting all his thoughts come out at once.

“Stop.” Alastor’s voice cut across the air.

Takuma froze mid-step and Alastor knelt, meeting his eyes. His claws rested lightly on the boy’s shoulders—gentle, but firm.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Alastor said, voice calm but hollowed with gravity. “This falls under our deal. You are not to speak of what you’ve pieced together. Not to your father. Not to Charlie. You will let this go.”

Takuma’s throat closed, the deal coiled like cold vines around his tongue, silencing him.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered, eyes wide.

Alastor’s expression cracked just a fraction, ears drooping. He pulled the boy into a tight embrace.

“I’m not angry,” he said softly. “I’m proud. But this is bigger than you know. I will free myself… and I will protect you. But until then, I need you safe.”

Takuma hugged back, but for the first time… he was afraid.

Not of what Alastor would do, but of who might make him go against his promise.

Chapter Text

Alastor wasn’t one to fidget or feel anxious, every single movement was deliberate and precise, he never wanted anything he did to be wasteful. Even his twirling of his cane was to add a bit of flair, show off, grab attention. If he set out to do something and had a goal in mind, he never thought twice about the methods to achieve his goals. If it hurt someone, they shouldn’t get in his way, his intent is clear unless he needs to skirt around and keep his actions hidden, even then he had no problem cutting some loose ends or silencing someone who dared get in his way.

So, why now did he feel the need to rearrange the delicate metal comb, the soft vintage brush and hair oils as though their placement would make the horrible feeling his chest vanish. Why did he feel the need to pace the room, waiting for the shower to stop. Why did his claws itch with need to hold and to comfort.

Takuma was clever, Alastor loved that part of him. How he tore apart weak plots in books they read together, his uncanny ability to pick someone apart by the way the person held themselves or talked and how little pieces of long forgotten information by others stored away in that mind of his to put a picture together later on.

That mind of his would be an incredibly powerful tool when he was older, when he became an Overlord along side his beloved papa. Alastor could see better use for his talents than becoming a dreary detective.

But he punished Takuma for the very thing he loved something that he wanted to flourish and had cut down instead.

If he wasn’t so self-sacrificing, I wouldn’t need to have these measures.

Alastor ran his claws through his hair in a need to do something, he wanted to rip at the binding around his throat and take his command over Takuma back, but he couldn’t have his precious child thinking he needed to protect his papa when it was the other way around.

So why do I feel as though I’m in the wrong?!

The bathroom door creaked open, releasing a cloud of steam into the hallway. Takuma stepped out, towel draped over his shoulders, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. He was dressed in the clothes Alastor had set out for him, grey dress pants, a short sleeved purple collared shirt and the boy’s favorite shoes.

Alastor expected a complaint at the dressy ensemble, something to tease that it was actually dressed down, but nothing was said. Takuma seemed hesitate in the doorway, his feet rooted to the floor. He met Alastor's gaze, searching for something but what Alastor couldn’t be sure of, so he returned that guarded uncertainty with a gentle smile.

"Come along, darling," Alastor chimed, gesturing to the chair in front of the vanity. "Let's tame that mane of yours."

The boy gave a silent nod, he moved to the chair and sat down.

Alastor hated the silent treatment, he couldn’t fix something if he didn’t know what was going on behind blue eyes. He began combing through Takuma's hair with practiced ease, the jasmine oils working its magic. But Takuma flinched at the first touch, his shoulders tensing.​

"Apologies, dear," Alastor said softly. "Did I tug too hard?"

Takuma shook his head, eyes fixed on his reflection. "No, it's fine."​

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the gentle strokes of the comb. Alastor's smile dipped at the edges in concern.

"You know," he began, voice barely above a whisper, "I would never intentionally hurt you."

Takuma's eyes met Alastor's in the mirror. "I know."​

The words were said with more certainty than the look on his face gave off. Alastor set down the comb with deliberate care, as though the wrong sound might startle the boy further. He stood still behind Takuma for a beat, then crouched beside the vanity, just off to the side, close, but not looming.

“Darling," he murmured, voice still velvet-smooth but quieter now, touched with real concern, “you're far too young to carry this much weight in your chest.”

Takuma didn’t look at him. His fingers toyed with the towel in his lap, Alastor watched him twist the fabric until his fingers were white and the demon wanted to reach out and sooth those anxious fingers.

"You didn’t yell," he said suddenly, a voice almost too soft to hear. "You didn’t lie. You even told me I was right."

Alastor tilted his head gently, his smile returning but dulled. “Because you were.”

“Then why do I feel like you betrayed me?”

That cut through everything — the calm, the static, the charming pretense. Alastor’s smile faltered for just a moment, not vanishing, but hollowing at the edges. His ears drooped slightly, and his hand hovered at his side, unsure if it was still welcome to reach out.

He didn’t offer excuses, instead he quietly said, “Because you were hurt. And I caused it, even if I didn’t mean for it to come this far.” He let his gaze drop. “I promised you safety, and now you know there are strings tangled around me that I can't sever — yet.”

Takuma finally met his eyes. “It’s not just that. I’ve had people lie to me before. Adults saying they cared, right before they gave me back or left or—”

The crack in his voice made Alastor move forward, more compelling than any cursed chain around his neck. “I will never leave you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know. That’s the problem,” Takuma muttered. “I know you love me. I know you’d protect me. But what if that’s not enough? What if someone else can make you hurt me and you won’t even have a choice?”

There was silence.

“I don’t want to be afraid of you.”

Alastor closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they had softened — dimmer, quieter, but no less intense.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, my darling boy,” he said, almost reverently. “But I understand why you are.”

He reached up slowly, giving Takuma time to move if he wanted. When the boy didn’t, Alastor gently rested his palm against his cheek, not to cradle — just to be there. There was no pressure, just warmth.

“I have been many terrible things in my time,” he said. “But the only thing I truly want to be now… is your Papa.”

Takuma closed his eyes and leaned into the hand and Alastor exhaled like someone being given a pardon.

After a moment, Takuma whispered, “I still don’t forgive you.”

Alastor’s grin returned — faint, but real. “Good. You shouldn’t.”

Takuma opened his eyes and looked at the burning red with wide, unshaken faith. “You don’t want forgiveness?”

Alastor shook his head. “I want you to feel what you need to, and I’ll be here to make up for it and earn your forgiveness. Much better than his Majesty at any rate.”

Takuma nodded, but he didn’t look done with this moment, he held himself as though he needed something. But Alastor knew his child well enough by now to know exactly what was needed. He moved forward and wrapped him up in a warm embrace and a kiss to his temple.

“I love you, Takuma.” He whispered into wet hair and his own tension bled away when small arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I love you too, papa.”

Alastor didn’t let go until Takuma did, learning from one of those books Lucifer read that children should be the last to let go.

Alastor shifted behind him once more, fingers moving through Takuma’s damp curls with feather-light care. He didn’t hum like he usually did — not yet. There was a stillness in him now, a kind of reverence, as if touching Takuma’s hair felt more like a privilege than a routine.

The boy sat on the cushioned stool with his knees tucked up, arms loosely wrapped around them. His eyes stayed on his reflection, watching Alastor in the mirror.

“Can I… still tell you things?” he asked, voice low but steady. “Or is it safer not to?”

Alastor’s hands slowed, the comb hovering in place.

“For you, or for me?” he asked gently.

Takuma didn’t answer right away. “For both, I guess.”

The Radio Demon set the comb down on the vanity with care and met Takuma’s gaze in the mirror, his smile was soft, quiet, older.

“You can always tell your Papa anything,” he said, smoothing his claws through a curl. “Anything at all. Because I’ve already taken measures to make sure you won’t come up again in certain... circles.”

Takuma’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

But Alastor just returned to fussing over his hair, fingers moving with that same meticulous care. “It means there are things you need not worry about. Not anymore.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No,” Alastor agreed, “but it is a promise.”

Takuma frowned at the reflection and Alastor held his gaze.

“Can we still be the same? Do we have to stop being… close?”

Alastor didn’t hesitate.

“I am exactly the same Papa who spoils you,” he said, gently separating a twist of curls. “Who reads beside you until you fall asleep. The same who plays piano with you until our fingers ache. The one who still hopes—” He paused, adjusting a curl. “—you’ll pick up a paint brush someday.”

His voice softened further.

“I have not changed. Not in the ways that matter. And nothing—no bargain, no bond, no threat—will ever make me stop being the person you can trust… and the one who will always protect you.”

Takuma looked up again in the mirror, eyes glassy but clear. He didn’t speak—just gave the smallest nod.

Alastor smiled and finally began to hum, a warm, low tune that filled the silence with something familiar. Safe.

He lifted another curl and fluffed it gently between his claws. “Now, chin up, darling. We can’t have Paimon’s first impression of you be anything less than dazzling.”

Takuma huffed a laugh. “He’s going to hate me no matter what.”

Alastor smirked and bent down to bring their faces side by side in the mirror. “Then we shall ensure you look magnificent while being hated.”

By the time he finished fussing over every curl, the tension that had wrapped Takuma’s frame had loosened, if only slightly. The elephant in the room didn’t leave—but at least it sat a bit quieter in the corner.

Takuma stood from the chair with a groan, stretching his limbs. “Ugh, sitting that still should be illegal.”

Alastor chuckled and summoned his cane with a snap. “Then it’s fortunate your sentence is complete.”

“Hey, still in here?” Lucifer called, appearing through his portal with a smile.

Takuma rolled his eyes. “If I was allowed to just put my hair in a ponytail or bun, I’d be done faster.”

He yelped as familiar dark tendrils slithered under his shirt and attacked his sides, tickling mercilessly until he crumpled to the floor in a breathless heap.

When the shadows finally receded, Takuma glared up at the two smiling demons looming over him.

“You’ll never have hot coffee again.” He wheezed.

Lucifer barked a laugh. “Tendril tickles. I like that!”

Alastor clapped his hands in delight. “Brilliant! I hereby adopt the name for my preferred method of coercion.”

Takuma narrowed his eyes and rubbed at his ribs. “What’s wrong with you two?”

Instead of answering, they each reached down, grabbed an arm, and hauled him to his feet. Then, in perfect sync, they each gave a teasing pinch between their knuckles to the apple of his cheeks.

“Ow! What the hell?” he complained, rubbing his face.

Lucifer leaned forward to kiss his reddened cheek. “There, all better,” He said sweetly.

Alastor mirrored him, pressing an exaggerated kiss to the other. “Much improved, my darling.”

Takuma glared and muttered, “I think I preferred it when you two were too busy trying to one-up each other to focus on me.”

Lucifer’s grin was so big it took up most of his face. “Duckling, I’m the King of Lies, and you just told a big one.”

Alastor scooped up his child and squished him close, one arm wrapped around his middle. “Oh-ho! So you do enjoy my affections. I’ll double my efforts!” He cooed and tickled Takuma with gentle prodding, making him shriek with laughter and squirm against his chest, legs kicking air.

Their moment was cut short with a chime from Lucifer’s phone. He pulled up the text and grimaced.

He glanced at the screen and immediately grimaced. “Charlie says Paimon’s arrived. We need to get down there before he opens his beak and gets himself murdered.”

Still held like a sack of squirming indignation, Takuma blinked. “Charlie and Vaggie wouldn’t kill anyone. Not unless it was, like… self-defense.”

Lucifer looked up with a smile far too sharp to be comforting. His eyes glowed red.

“I never said it was them doing the killing.”

Lucifer came through the other side, trying to maintain the aloof air in anticipation of having to deal with Paimon and whoever he dragged along to be his son’s tutor.

It would really work better if Takuma and Alastor weren’t in top form.

“Seriously, I have legs!”

Alastor, entirely unbothered, cradled him like an oversized housecat. “Yes, and they’re terribly cute—but tragically unreliable. You might wander off and run into another unsavory fellow in the halls.”

“Some might say that’d be you.” Takuma shot back and tried to pry Alastor’s arm off of his middle, legs stretched out hoping for some sort of leverage with his back pushing against Alastor’s chest.

Alastor gasped, scandalized, his arm not moving an inch. “You wound me! I have always been a model of composure and grace.”

“You licked my face, Alastor.”

“That was a tender paternal moment!” Alastor protested, indignant. “You were bleeding, and I was concerned!” then he stopped and added. “I outlawed my name from your mouth, I can only be known as papa to you.”

“You were purring,” Takuma said flatly, ignoring his statement. “Like a murder cat.”

Alastor leaned down and nuzzled the top of his head affectionately. “A murder cat who loves you.”

“I swear to Hell, I will freeze your coffee permanently.”

“That’s adorable. As if I’ll stop drinking it.”

“AHEM.”

The father-son duo turned their heads in unison—Takuma still hanging sideways in Alastor’s grip—to face the interruption.

Lucifer was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Charlie had her clipboard held like a shield against her chest, trying and failing to hide her grin. Even Vaggie, arms crossed like a stern schoolteacher, had a telltale twitch at the corner of her lips.

And standing in the middle of them all, looking like he’d just stepped in something unspeakable, was Paimon.

He wore high-collared formal robes embroidered with stars and gold threading, an absurd number of rings, and a look of profound disapproval. His feathers bristled at the very sight of Alastor holding Takuma like a prized goblet of sass and mischief.

“Well,” Paimon drawled, looking down his beak at the chaos, “this certainly explains the backtalk over the phone call, he can't expected to show respect if his deer nanny can't show any to his betters.”

Alastor smiled widely and didn’t put the boy down, instead he pulled him closer and loomed protectively.

Lucifer stepped forward, blocking Alastor and Paimon. “Pai’ this is my son Takuma and my partner Alastor.”

“Charmed,” Paimon deadpanned, taking in what he could see of the boy. “Though I must say… I expected someone taller.”

Alastor patted Takuma’s head. “That’s alright, darling. We all expected Paimon to be relevant this century, and yet here we are.”

Paimon’s feathers flared.

“Now, now,” Stolas cooed as he stepped forward from where he’d been quietly observing from behind Paimon. “Let’s not incinerate each other before brunch.”

Takuma peered at him curiously. Tall, soft-voiced, and dressed in a fine but slightly rumpled coat, Stolas looked less like a prince and more like someone who’d been dragged out of a cozy library nap. Which… actually kind of made him less intimidating.

The owl demon smiled warmly. “Hello, little prince. I’m Stolas, and I’ve come to help with your education. But don’t worry—I don’t assign pop quizzes on the first day.”

Takuma blinked again, wary but curious. “Do you make them take blood oaths on the second?”

Stolas gave a delighted trill. “Only if they spell demonic sigils incorrectly. We must have standards.”

Takuma snorted, finding he already started to like the owl, while Alastor narrowed his eyes at Stolas but said nothing yet.

Lucifer glanced at his son. “Duckling, why don’t you show Stolas to the library? I’ll handle introductions with His Loudness.”

Takuma squirmed in Alastor’s grip again. “Only if I’m allowed to walk.”

Alastor sighed like a martyr but gently set him down. “If you must.”

“I must,” Takuma said with a huff, smoothing his shirt like before turning a playful smile on Stolas. “Come on, big bird.”

Stolas chuckled and followed the boy out with a graceful tip of his head.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Paimon rounded on Alastor with narrowed eyes.

“I see you’ve made yourself quite at home in Lucifer’s shadow, sinner.”

Alastor gave an exaggerated show of twirling his cane before planting it in front himself with both his claws clasped atop, “I am but a humble hotelier and father, who on occasion moonlights as a killer radio host Overlord!”

Lucifer stepped between them. “Careful, Paimon. You’re welcome here as my guest, not as a critic. Don’t forget which one of us has the crown.”

“Hmm, yes, and what lovely things you’ve done with it thus far.” Paimon sneered.

Alastor smirked as he came to stand beside his King and leaned against his cane while inspecting his claws. “Now, now. No need to measure your horns in public.”

Lucifer didn’t even look back. “Alastor.”

“Yes, dearest?”

“Behave.”

“No promises.”

Takuma led the way into the hotel’s library, bigger now and fully updated thanks to Lucifer and Alastor. There was a huge self-help section, books on trauma and healing, how to handle deals in Hell and a big section full of fantasy and mystery novels of every genre. Apparently, Charli really loved fantasy romances.

Stolas followed with a light, graceful stride, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His tall form cast a gentle shadow across the bookshelves, but there was no menace in his posture, just a quiet, curious presence.

“You don’t have to walk so quiet,” Takuma said without looking back. “You’re already tall. Sneaking just makes it worse.”

Stolas chuckled. “Apologies. Old habits. I used to sneak up on my daughter all the time when she was young. She never appreciated it either.”

“You’re a dad?” Takuma asked, opening one of the side study rooms, one that smelled like old parchment and lemon wood polish. He flicked on the small stained-glass lamp by the desk and sat down with a dramatic sigh.

Stolas didn’t flinch, but he did pause, considering the boy more closely. “Yes, her name is Octavia.”

Takuma eyed him curiously. “Strained relationship?”

Stolas took a seat in one of the armchairs. “You might say that.” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “I’ve been exiled from my position for a hundred years and I’m not allowed contact with her until my punishment is met. That doesn’t mean she can’t contact me, however we had a… disagreement and she’s chosen to cut me out for the time being.”

Takuma hummed and scratched at the hardwood desk’s finish. “So why are you here?”

Stolas offered a shrug with a smile. “My Father showed up at my apartment, stating the least I could do for partially ruining his reputation, was to raise a proper royal from the Morningstar bloodline that would favor the Ars Goetia to give us more of a foothold.”

Stolas chuckled and his smile turned playful as he leaned forward as though telling a big secret. “But really, I’m here because your father will pay me handsomely and I do not enjoy being poor.”

Takuma snorted and laughed, leaning back his seat to throw his head back. “Yeah, being poor is a really good motivator!”

 Stolas’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he leaned back in the armchair. “Yes, well… there’s a certain clarity that poverty brings. I used to spend thousands on rare spellwork and wine. Now I argue with Blitzø over cereal brands.”

Takuma grinned. “Hey name brand is just a scam when the off brand is the same thing with a shittier label but cheaper price.”

The owl laughed and cover his beak politely. “Ah, the joys of consumerism!” Stolas said wryly, plucking a notepad and pencil from his coat pocket. “So. Let’s begin lightly, shall we? No assessments. No recitations. I want to know about you, Takuma. What do you enjoy learning about? What makes your mind light up?”

Takuma blinked, unsure how to answer at first. Most adults asked what he could do, not what he liked.

“…I like puzzles,” he said at last, worrying his hands. “Like mysteries and logic games. I like learning how stuff works—like deals, the rules in Hell, contracts. I love the ocean, everything about the ocean is amazing. I also really like playing piano.” He stopped here and thought about adding this next thing.

“I used to like art. I dunno if I still do though.”

Stolas nodded thoughtfully, jotting a few things down. “That’s a very strong skill set. You’d make an excellent researcher, or a warlock, or perhaps a scheming advisor, depending on which way your life leans.”

Takuma tilted his head. “Is that your way of saying I could be dangerous?”

“It’s my way of saying you’re sharp.” Stolas smiled. “And the more knowledge you have, the safer you’ll be here. Knowledge is one of the few currencies that even the most bloodthirsty demons’ respect.”

That made Takuma’s smile fade just slightly. “Even if you’re a human mortal?” he murmured quietly, even though there was no one else to hear.

Stolas looked at him for a long beat before speaking, his voice gentler. “Especially if you’re mortal.”

Takuma nodded slowly, watching the owl write something down.

“Do you… like being a dad?” he asked suddenly.

Stolas blinked, the question caught him off-guard. But after a moment, his face softened with something bittersweet.

“I love being a father,” he said. “Even if I haven’t always done it well.”

Takuma watched him. “I think I’d like to hear more about her sometime. Your daughter.”

Stolas smiled. “And I’d like to hear more about you. Deal?”

Takuma smirked, crossing his arms. “Only if it’s not legally binding.”

The two shared a laugh, the edges of tension in the air softening into something warm and tentative—fragile trust stitched into a quiet corner of a noisy world.

Stolas tucked his notebook away and let himself relax more fully into the armchair, crossing one elegant leg over the other.

“You’ve got a very old soul, you know,” he mused, watching Takuma tap a rhythm against the table. “And not just because you like the piano.”

Takuma snorted. “You sound like Husk. He says that when I act like a grumpy old man.”

“Husk isn’t wrong,” Stolas said with a wink. “But I mean it in the best way. There’s wisdom in you, and resilience. Traits even some of the oldest demons I know still lack.”

Takuma shifted, clearly unused to that kind of praise. “I’m just trying to keep up.”

“That’s all anyone’s doing,” Stolas said, then leaned in conspiratorially. “The rest of us are just better at pretending we know what we’re doing.”

Takuma grinned at that, but before he could respond, the library door creaked open.

Lucifer stepped through the door first, hands in his pockets, casual in that way only a King could afford to be. Alastor followed a step behind, adjusting his cuffs and glancing over the bookshelves with the air of someone checking for threats.

“There’s our scholar,” Lucifer greeted, flashing a smile at Takuma. “Thought you might’ve gotten lost among the dusty tomes.”

“I was thinking about it,” Takuma replied dryly. “Stolas was trying to convince me I’m secretly terrifying.”

“Oh, good,” Alastor said smoothly, voice honeyed and sharp. “Then he and I can agree on something.”

Takuma stuck out his tongue and stood up, rolling his shoulders with a stretch. “You’re both dramatic.”

Stolas rose as well, offering a courteous nod to the two men. “He’s clever and inquisitive, and not the least bit intimidated by titles. I quite like him.”

Lucifer beamed with parental pride, while Alastor’s smile twitched wider—possessive, protective, pleased. “Of course you do,” he said. “He’s mine, making him perfect.”

Takuma made a face. “Here we go.”

Alastor, without missing a beat, reached out and ruffled his curls. “Did you behave?”

Takuma gave him a skeptical look. “I didn’t sign any new contracts or sell my soul, if that’s what you mean.”

Lucifer chuckled and nudged him with his hip. “That’s our bar for success now?”

Stolas turned to them all. “He’s bright, with time and patience, I think I can be of use.”

“You’re not here for usefulness,” Lucifer replied, voice softening. “You’re here because your family,” he hesitated before saying. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, at the trial. I’ll do what I can to help now, I really don’t think Andy knows what he’s getting into with all the prophecies and my house calls.”

Stolas blinked, looking briefly overwhelmed—but only for a second. He nodded slowly, brushing his hands over his shirt. “Alright, how about lessons three times a week for five hours, is that a good starting point?”

“That’s better than five days a week for eight hours a day.” Takuma agreed.

Stolas chuckled. “Then I shall have an assessment for the next week so we can see where you’re at and take your education from there.”

Lucifer nodded along. “Sounds like a plan to me, just be aware of the sinners that’ll come through.” He cautioned the ex-prince.

Takuma looked between all three adults—the King of Hell, the Radio Demon, and a deposed prince with kind eyes. He gave a slow, amused shrug.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Alastor’s eyes gleamed as he pulled the boy lovingly into his side.

“I can make a list,” he said.

Takuma didn’t even flinch. “Of course you can.”

Stolas chuckled at their banter and bond, before looking to Lucifer. “Speaking of family, is my father still here causing a scene or has he ditched me?”

The King sighed and crossed his arms. “He’s still here, waiting for you. I’m guessing he has some evil plan in mind?”

Alastor bristled. “What now?”

The two royals shrugged. “Ars Goetia are always plotting something.” Stolas replied with an air of nonchalance, as though he were speaking of the weather.

Lucifer nodded. “Paimon never got to sink his talons into Charlie. Lilly didn’t like her around the Goetia. But… I don’t think that’s helped her much now. If she had connections, she might have had more help with the hotel. Now that I know Stolas is the tutor, I think this’ll work in our favor and keep the worst of the royals at bay, while giving Takuma better insight into their world.”

Stolas preened openly at his praise. “Of course! Who better to teach the young prince but a fellow prince?”

Takuma wrapped his arms around Alastor’s waist and leaned in, eyes half-lidded, the weight of the morning finally catching up to him. “So, this is going to be my new normal? Making connections, helping redeem sinners, and being smothered by demons?”

Alastor glanced down at him, and something in his grin gentled—less teeth, more warmth. He laid a careful hand over Takuma’s back and let out a soft hum.

“If it means you’re safe,” he said quietly, “then yes. That’s precisely your normal.”

Takuma didn’t move, but his fingers tightened slightly in the fabric of Alastor’s jacket. The Radio Demon leaned down, his voice low and fond.

“I’ll guard that normal with everything I have. Even if you curse me with cold coffee for eternity.”

Lucifer chuckled nearby. “That’s parenting. Unconditional affection and finding stuff put in your coffee.”

Stolas gave chuckle of his own, “Ah don’t forget storming off and slamming doors, or the rebellious music.” He added fondly.

Takuma smiled faintly into Alastor’s side, and let his eyes slip shut for just a moment.

This—strange, loud, infernal as it was—was his world now.

And he could live with that.