Why yes, I'll take your soul

It had only been a few days since the battle.

The hotel was repaired. Better than ever, actually. New glass gleamed in the windows. The halls carried the faint scent of paint and polish.

Out front they’d erected a large statue. A stone likeness of Dazzle, in his dragon form.

Life was... okay. They were getting on.

Alastor hadn’t really been around.

When Charlie asked about it, he’d told her, with one of those maddeningly polite smiles, that he was “recuperating.”

She’d barely gotten a breath in to press him for more when he lifted a hand and cut her off. “And do try not to mention our little arrangement, my dear. Some things are best... d̷i̴s̸c̵r̴e̶e̸t̵.”

As if she’d just go around blabbing that she’d sold her soul to the Radio Demon.

Tonight, the hotel was hosting its first group activity since the battle. Nothing complicated, just a simple story-sharing exercise meant to remind everyone that there’s still joy left.

Charlie had gathered everyone in the lounge. The chairs were arranged in a loose circle, the lighting turned soft and warm. She didn’t think Alastor would show, she hadn’t seen him all day, and a small, guilty part of her hoped he wouldn’t.

But as everyone was settling in, to her great surprise—and everyone else’s—the door swung open.

Alastor strutted in without a word and took a seat.

Husk raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Angel let out a low whistle. “Well, well, well. Look who finally crawled outta his bat cave.”

Alastor ignored him, folding his hands neatly in his lap.

Across the circle, Vaggie went rigid, jaw clenching.

Dad puffed up.

Niffty just giggled maniacally.

Everyone’s here. Hopefully this will lift their spirits.

“Hey everyone!” Charlie said cheerily. “Thank you all so much for being here.”

She glanced around the room, meeting each pair of eyes in turn.

“I know things have been a little... stressful these last few weeks,” she continued, “So I figured we’d do something simple.”

She spread her arms slightly. “Let’s go around in a circle, and each of us will share a joyful memory.”

Husk groaned, rolling his eyes. Not particularly surprising, though she found it a little disheartening.

“That sounds like an awesome idea!” Lucifer chimed in, smiling wide.

Charlie’s chest tightened. It was wonderful having him here, laughing, smiling, acting like he belonged… But deep down, she couldn’t shake the worry that he’d eventually drift away again.

She shoved thoughts worries deep down. "That's great dad. Why don't you start us off then?"

“Well, if you insist!” he said, clasping his hands behind his head. 

What followed was an incredibly theatrical (and slightly embarrassing) story about her birth. The chaos, the fanfare, the panic, the heartbreak, the awe. Every minute of it was framed like an epic legend, complete with dramatic pauses and sweeping gestures. He spoke of how he’d prepared for every possibility, how he’d thought himself invincible, and then how all that confidence had melted the moment she cried. And somehow he managed to paint it as both the most terrifying and most magnificent moment of his life.

Charlie couldn’t stop smiling, even as she shook her head. He always had to put on a show, Honestly he’s a lot like Alastor in that regard.

The applause faded. Charlie let her hands fall to her lap, still feeling that familiar glow under her father’s teasing words.

Of course he had to tell it like that, she thought with a tiny smile. Embarrassing or not, it meant something to hear him say it. To remember that even now—with everything they faced—he still cared. Still tried.

She blinked, forcing herself to focus. The circle waited.

“Well!” Angel Dust drawled, leaning back with a stretch. “If we’re sharin’ happy memories… guess it’s my turn, huh?”

Angel launched into a lurid story about a night on set filming one of his most popular “movies.” Script rewrites and fussy equipment had put them hours behind, so everyone ended up working late, tempers frayed and makeup melting while he was talked into some… very creative positions to keep things on schedule. The whole tale was explicit enough that Husk grumbled under his breath more than once, but it ended on a strangely warm note: the scene finally wrapped, someone cracked open a bottle, and cast and crew wound up celebrating right there on set, drinking, laughing, and naked.

Charlie cleared her throat delicately, face bright pink. “Ah—um—thank you, Angel. That was… certainly a memory.”

Angel gave her a smug little finger-gun. “Anytime, princess.”

As the last of Angel’s story faded into a chorus of stifled coughs, awkward glances, and one long-suffering sigh from Husk, Charlie cleared her throat again and smoothed her skirt, glancing sidelong at the cat demon. “It’s your turn, Husk.”

The old cat demon shifted in his seat, eyes narrowing. One ear flicked in mild irritation.
“Pass.”

Charlie blinked. “You can’t pass. Everyone’s supposed to share something.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Kid, I don’t got any joyous memories.” He said the word like it tasted foul. “Move on.”

For a moment, the room went still. The faint hum of the hotel’s lights and the clink of ice in Husk’s glass were suddenly very loud.

Charlie opened her mouth, then hesitated. She didn’t want to push him, not after everything they’d just been through.

Angel broke the silence with a crooked grin, leaning back in his chair.
“Eh, let the old cat off the hook. No sense makin’ him cough up rainbows.”

Vaggie nodded once, arms folding across her chest. “Fine by me.”

Even Lucifer made a small, dismissive wave of his hand, smirk tugging at his lips. “Some of us are allergic to nostalgia.”

She drew in a breath to move things along—

Before she could, Alastor's voice, smooth as velvet and twice as smug, slid through the lull.
“Oh, but Husk-er, I was so curious what delight lay buried within your gloomy heart.” He smiled too warmly, and Husk’s tail twitched in irritation.

Pentious’s “joyous memory” turned out to be Vaggie’s trust exercise. It was a little depressing that that was the first thing that came to mind when he was asked to share something happy, but still, Charlie was proud of Vaggie for giving him one at all. For him, that silly drill had clearly meant more than he knew how to say.

Niffty went next, and went into far too much detail about how she killed “mother bugs” in front of their children to “teach them a lesson.” Again…

Vaggie followed with a very sweet story about back when she and Charlie had been fixing the place up when the power went out during a storm. With nothing else to do, they’d lit candles and played board games all night.

Finally, Charlie shared her own memory of the time Dad took her to Loo Loo Land when she was little and how she’d won a giant stuffed Cerberus she could barely drag home.

Lucifer reclined smugly in his chair. “See? My work does bring happiness,” he said, clearly very pleased with himself.

Niffty clapped excitedly, practically vibrating. “I wanna go sometime!”

Angel leaned back with a grin. “I’d ride that Sky Carousel. Bet it’s a hell of a view.”

Charlie giggled softly. “It is.”

Lucifer chuckled, tipping his head. “Well, perhaps next time you’ll join us.”

Angel shot him a wink. “Oh, anytime, Short King. I’m always up for a good ride.”

Charlie nearly choked on her own breath, cheeks flaring hot. Vaggie let out an audible groan. Dad just laughed awkwardly, clearly regretting opening that particular door.

A warm quiet settled over the group, the kind that comes after shared laughter and just a little secondhand embarrassment.

Then, slowly, all eyes turned to Alastor.

Charlie was honestly surprised he spoke at all. She’d half-expected him to pass like Husk. Instead, he tilted his head, tasting the word “joyous” like it was foreign, then announced he had just the memory, back when he’d first cemented himself as an overlord, and “T̵͎͑͝Ḫ̶̀Ì̸̟͋ͅS̸͚̒ ̵̮́̾D̴͉̋͘I̴̯͌S̶̺͂̿Ṟ̶̨̎Ë̴̠̭́S̵͎̹̾P̸̛̮̂E̵̙̍C̴͖̓̓T̴̻̠̉͋F̷̲̍͘Ũ̷̠͜L̸͍͊̒ͅ ̴̣̖͠W̶͒͑͜͜R̷̪͒͑Ḛ̷̊T̷̳̞͌C̷͖̏Ḥ̷̣̎͘,” another overlord, had been foolish enough to oppose him.

The rival, Anvil, as he eventually remembered with a little sniff of disdain, had been some molten-metal controlling showboat with knight-themed goons. Alastor described carving through those “tin soldiers,” peeling the armor off their master piece by piece, then “really getting in there.” He lingered on the details in a disturbingly fond way. The strips of flesh, the heat of it, the almost smoky flavor on his tongue. It was disturbing.

Angel groaned and clutched his stomach, muttering that he hadn’t needed to hear about Alastor eating some poor bastard. Husk agreed. Niffty, of course, perked up and said she did want to hear more. Vaggie, pinching the bridge of her nose, begrudgingly shut Angel down on the grounds that if he was allowed to talk about porn and orgies, then Alastor was allowed to talk about devouring his enemies.

Alastor finished by cheerfully explaining that once he’d had his fill, he shredded Anvil’s soul and broadcast the screams. The reaction around the circle was a mix of disgust, morbid fascination, and awkward silence. Niffty clapped excitedly. Slowly, awkwardly, the others joined in. Polite, scattered applause filled the lounge.

Charlie clapped along with the others, hands a bit stiff, telling herself that for Alastor, sharing anything about his past was its own kind of progress. Her hands felt stiff. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her dad leaning back with a faint smirk. “Edgelord,” he muttered under his breath.

Charlie swallowed a laugh.

It wasn’t the kind of story she’d imagined when she planned this activity, but really… what had she expected from Alastor? With him, she had to take her victories where she could. And this was a victory.

Everyone had participated. They’d all shared something. Even Alastor, in his own twisted way. She’d learned a little more about his past. Husk had shown up, even if he hadn’t contributed much. No one had stormed out. No one had started a fight.

That counted for a lot.

She let out a small breath and smiled.

‘Massive success.’