Prideful Shame

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(Author Note: I have not written fanfiction since middle school, it wasn't exactly good fanfiction either. Please offer the compliment sandwich; compliment + critique + compliment. Also, there will be some smut later on in this Fanfic so be warned.)

Hell was glittering with the golden blood of fallen angels; rejoicing and heartache abound in its denizens. Charlie now stood with the brightest smile at the sight of a hotel her father built, boy did she feel her heart so sweet it could burst! "Thanks dad! It looks even better than before!" She embraced the king in a tight hug, one he had only just recently been reacquainted with. It was warm, soothing; maybe something worth sticking around for. Lilith may have been nowhere to be seen but that didn't mean he couldn't show up for the little demonness that he adored. But then...would she, mind his episodes? Of isolation, of cutting her off and others as well, irritability, pain, and ducks? He hadn't been coping well since being left to his own devices and now he was just supposed to act like everything was suddenly fine? A frown left his lips for a moment before returning to the present moment.

 Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell himself, couldn't help but marvel at his handiwork. He hadleft the duck depression cavern that was his workshop. 

"Aww, thanks Char-Char. You know it was nothing for me."His goofy grin was replaced by a sly smirk left as sharp static hummed in the corner, the bus boy wasn't terribly thrilled seeing as all his work had literally been torn apart by a cannibal's buffet and angelic devastation. At least Rosie could enjoy herself, and that made the Radio demon smile with more genuine pleasure than aggravation. Rosie had her surviving subjects take the remains, repurposing them in the butcher shops, her business was bustling with the exciting new meat. That was meat and blood Alastor had yet to sample, and its faint odor it left behind left Alastor's core grumbling with intrigue. After the initial surprise of him returning after a couple days of their nonstop reconstruction, Charlie couldn't help but pull the deer demon aside by his crimson sleeve to check in. "Al? Are you alright? I know you were gone for like seven years, so maybe disappearing isn't that strange..." She paused, putting a finger to her lips, trying to find the right words, "Don't leave us in the dark if anything is going on."

Alastor's grin led to his crackling static as he recalled the events following the battle between himself and Adam. At first he felt he held the upper hand, that was until the blow that broke his microphone and the following one that sliced up his chest. With his last bit of strength he had to retreat in a murky blackness, something he never thought he'd be in the position to do. It was shameful, unbecoming for him, someone who more and more frequently had been engaging with the heaviest hitters of hell had met his match. With a soul that was once mortal of all things!

In his busted radio studio he had pushed himself through the latch door with shaking breath. Inevitability a panic attack immersed him with claws digging into his scalp and tracing his yellow toothed grin, teeth stained from the brimstone air they were exposed to regularly.

When I've unclipped my wings, shredded this torturous bind, I can have my way and then some.

Thinking of the power unleashed left him grinning in his sadistic matter before noticing the dripping blood that scattered the floor from his door like rain drops. He traced his gloved finger beneath his dress shirt, the large slash feeling jagged and having shocking ease by which his index could slip into the wound, what he felt beneath reminded him of something similar to the venison he snacked on at breakfast. A shudder left him, his smile all the more concerned as his teeth were hidden. He couldn't have Charlie or Vaggie or Angel or anyone seeing him in such a feeble state.

The blood kept flowing and his red eyes scanned the room, searching for a quick fit to alleviate the pressure. Perhaps he could stitch it up himself? He had no medical experience in the past, other than devastating his victims. He knew how to break things in the body, not fix them. How the hell was he supposed to pull this off? Anything to not worry anyone or reveal weakness.

He eventually decided on grabbing a spare coat from his aged antler hanger, tearing it up and tightly wrapping it around himself to stop the bleeding. Surprisingly it was working, but that wouldn't last long. He had to hope he'd actually heal, get a sewing kit when he returned to the hotel.

When he arrived back, he had spent a couple days resting, hoping it would be enough to heal, but his torso was pale, and he had to keep tightening the red fabric underneath to keep the blood at bay, going in between shifts of changing it.

The demon didn't realize he'd left himself in thought so long, leaving Charlie and everyone around her hanging. Angel Dust snapped his red gloved fingers in his face, shaking him from the trance. " 'Ey, 'ey smiles? You've been standing there smiling all creepy like, or something for a while now. Care to tell us what's goin' on?" "I'm dandy!~" Alastor announced pridefully, leaving Angel Dust raising a brow.

"I see the hotel is fixed. It sure is—bigger, now."

"Yeah nothing a gracious king couldn't handle for his daughter," Lucifer hummed while checking his nails nonchalantly as if it were no biggie. It wasn't to him anyhow.

Alastor sneered before Husk stepped in, "It was a team effort. Don't get yourself all bent out of shape boss."

"Right, then. Well, what are we waiting for? We have souls to save!" Alastor headed in ahead of them, noticing how much larger the parlor and the check in was.

Now, where is my room?

He looked back and forth frantically before nearly jumping at Charlie putting a hand on his back. "We know you fought with Adam. I'm sure it was...bad. You probably still need to recharge. My dad put your room upstairs, go recover, we have things under control for now since he's here." Alastor glared at the man who childishly stuck his tongue out to him before gracefully heading up the stairs, cane in hand.

"Much appreciated my child, much appreciated." He smiled back at them before finding his room a few doors down, immediately he locked the door behind him once inside. His smile was nearly breaking at the seams, his green dial eyes revealing themselves as his shadow frowned with worry. Things were getting hazy and the room started to spin. Before he knew it, he had fell forward with a thud like a stiff plank, succumbing to his body after holding on for so long.

The great overlord, Alastor, was incapacitated.

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