Chapter Text
It was actually a pleasant day on the Pride Ring for once. No acid rain, no scorching sun, no miasma of depression and despair. Perhaps a little sweltering humidity, but it added to the festive beachy vibe of summer. Sinners flocked the streets, enjoying the weather, the sweat soaked bodies and the roofied fruity cocktails.
Not that Lucifer Morningstar was aware of any of that, cooped up inside the Rose Palace, one of the many subsidiary palaces on the Royal grounds. It was still an impressive size, even tucked away as it was. It resembled more of a greenhouse, its exterior made from fragmented rose-colored glass, housing the largest conservatory in all Hell. Delicate plants and flowers unsuited to Hell’s climate were protected by strong wards and stringent climate control, producing sweet and lush fruit such as pineapples, star fruit, figs, pomegranates, and of course, apples.
Even then, the King might have noticed the weather had he bothered to go out into his private garden. But no. Instead, he stayed locked up in his workshop. The thick curtains stayed closed, blocking out all natural light as he hunched over his workbench. The place was a mess with all his plans and projects written on rolls and scraps of scrolls, ideas too many to even start all at once. The projects he did start were pinned to the curtains in a makeshift mood board, whilst models and prototypes littered his cluttered desk. The imps employed at the annex tried to do what they could to tidy the place up, pilfering away dirty dishes and half-finished drinks, cleaning up spills. But there was only so much they could do.
This was how Lilith found her ex-husband after taking the long trek from the Royal Palace. Striding into the room, she couldn’t help but sigh as she looked over the mess. “Lucifer,” she called out, the other monarch still not having noticed her, so buried in his latest hyperfixation was he.
Immediately, Lucifer jerked up, spinning around to face her with wide eyes. “L-Lilith!” he cried, accidentally knocking over his little Trojan horse in his startlement. He paid it no mind. “W-what a surprise! What are you doing here?” Then his face fell. “Wait, did something happen to Charlie?”
“No, no, she’s fine,” Lilith informed him quickly, watching his shoulders sag with relief. “Actually, I came to check on you. Maurice has been... concerned.”
“Maurice is a busybody,” Lucifer scoffed as he waved a hand, immediately dismissive. “I’m fine.”
Lilith gave a skeptical glance around the studio. Misinterpreting her look, the king flushed and went to swipe the many scrolls and parchment off of the tea table and seats. “So sorry, here. Take a seat. Do you want anything? I’ll ring Maurice to-”
He froze when she took his hand in hers. The one that still held their wedding ring. Flustered, he looked torn between squeezing her hand and yanking his away. So instead he simply let his hand awkwardly lay still. “Maybe I should add I’m worried about you,” Lilith added gently.
“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Lucifer asked darkly, finally sliding his hand away. He cradled it in his other, as if soothing a burn. Not meeting her eyes.
“Luci,” Lilith said, pained. “We’ve been over this. We need different things-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replied, waving off the impending argument. Turning away, he went to one of his inventions, an everfilled teapot with its current blend of vanilla rhubarb tea. Without prompting, he poured them both cups at the table.
Slowly taking her seat, Lilith took a sip of the tea. It was warm and cozy, like tasting a hug. She sighed again. “You always do better when you have someone to take care of.”
“Are you offering?” Lucifer asked dryly, leaning against his desk as he took a sip of tea.
“I think you should get remarried.”
The king instantly choked on his tea. Hot liquid splattered inelegantly down his face and he had to conjure a handkerchief to wipe himself up. “I’m sorry, what?!” he cried, setting his teacup down with a clatter. “You must be joking. Are you trying to give up your position as Queen?”
“Of course not. That’s absurd,” Lilith replied tartly. “But you can marry a consort. Someone to keep you company.”
Lucifer gaped at her. “....Nuuuoooo~” he said slowly, over-accentuating it as if she was deaf.
“Think of it,” she pressed again, setting her teacup aside to put her full attention on him. “Since you don’t actually want to fulfill any of your royal duties.” Lucifer made a distasteful scoffing noise at this. “-You can at least leverage your position to help build better relations with our subjects. Maybe a sinner-”
“A sinner?!” the king nearly screeched. “Are you kidding me?!”
Of course, Lilith knew full well what his opinions on sinners were. “And this is precisely why we need to build bridges,” she said diplomatically. “Actually, I have one under my employ. I think you’d like him. He’s-”
“No. No, no-no-nono. No!” Lucifer crowed, so out of sorts that white feathers were wafting off of him with each exaggerated movement. “Lils, I’m not going to marry one of your contracts! That’s so gross! How am I supposed to know he’s not being compelled?”
“I thought you didn’t care about sinners,” Lilith said wryly, causing Lucifer to flush gold. “Alright, I’ll contact the Overlords then. No one can control them. They can find a suitable match amongst themselves. I’ll write to them this afternoon.” With that decided, she stood from her seat with a self-satisfied smile, heading out the doors and back to her Royal Palace. Ignoring the shrieks of protest that followed her.
“Lils! Lilith! I’m not doing it! I’m not!”
~o~
Carmilla and Zestial studied the letter from the Queen of Hell intently. Both looked up from the ornate vellum page to give each other stunned looks.
“Well~” the ancient Overlord said in his softly wry rumble, “A Royal Wedding. Between the King of Hell and an Overlord. I cannot say I have seen the like in all my days.” He rose up to his full impressive height, taking a respectful distance alongside Carmilla’s heavy desk in her large and pristine office overlooking the Pentagram. It was just the two of them, even her daughters were dismissed from this meeting.
“I know that she has been wanting to do more outreach to sinners,” Carmilla confided, setting the page down. “Even so, this is... unexpected. And it cannot be good for whomever is chosen as the consort. They will be completely under the Royal family’s thumb. Limited.”
It went without saying it would be neither of them.
“Even so, it would behoove us not to squander this opportunity,” Zestial rumbled. “To have an Overlord so close to the Royal Family would surely provide a mountain of inside information.”
“As long as we can influence them,” Carmilla agreed. That already ruled out a number of candidates.
“What about that young upstart?” Zestial asked. “He has been making waves lately, has he not?” A glowing smile spread across his lips. “And I must admit, I rather like him.”
Carmilla met his glowing green eyes with hers. “I know exactly who you mean,” she smiled. Pulling open a drawer, she pulled out a sheaf of papers with her official letterhead. “I will make the arrangements immediately.”
~o~
Alastor, the Radio Demon, stood on the empty street in front of the entrance to Carmilla’s penthouse palace. He studied the ornately written invitation in his hand.
You are cordially invited to the
Cabal of Overlords
Venue: Carmine Mansion
Please R.S.V.P. by Satansday, 11:59
Naturally, he said yes. And naturally, he had arrived. Yet, something felt slightly off about this. Of course, he had every confidence that he had already earned his place in the Cabal with his meteoric rise to power. With a little help from you-know-who. However, he had expected that with Overlords as reputed to be as traditional and stodgy as Carmilla Carmine, he didn’t think he had been in the business long enough to actually earn her respect.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Alastor looked up from the card, seeing a somewhat friendly face. A lady in muted red and grays in a very fashionable hat. Her beetle-like eyes were like dark inkwells to the soul. Ah, what was her name again? Ah, Rosie! The Overlord of Cannibal Town sauntered over to him underneath a charming little parasol, wearing a wide smile that nearly matched his own. He tucked the invitation away, giving her his full attention. “Oh, I’m just making myself ready for my grand debut.”
“Oh! You’re Alastor!” Rosie said, circling around him to give him a lookover. “My, you’re not at all what I expected. Handsome fella, aintcha?” She let out a lovely titter of a laugh. “Pleasure to meetcha. I’m Rosie.”
Genuinely charmed, Alastor bowed to take her hand, giving her a kiss on the knuckles. “Pleasure to be meeting you as well. Quite a pleasure,” he said as he rose up.
“So!” Rosie said in excitement, “How are you feeling, doll? Excited? Nervous?”
“Why, what is there to be nervous about? This is simply a friendly meeting, is it not?” the Radio Demon replied, finally calling for the elevator. Even as he tried to scrounge for a bit more information.
“Well~” Rosie hedged. “You’re certainly in the big leagues now. I hope that you can handle yourself.” Their conversation paused as the metal elevator cage rattled open, revealing the imp that served as the elevator operator. Both he and Rosie displayed their invitations and with a nod, the imp closed the cage and yanked on the level to take them to the penthouse level.
Once they arrived up to the ornate lobby with its art deco walls and blood red carpet, it was clear that there were a number of people who had already arrived. The door to what was presumably the conference room was ajar and a number of voices emanated from the brightly lit room, casting long shadows into the foyer. Alastor pinned his shoulders back and was about to take a step towards the room. When Rosie suddenly put a hand to his forearm.
A zing of static unease went through Alastor, but he managed to keep himself still and turned back to Rosie. “Oh, sorry, doll,” she apologized, seeming to realize she had overstepped. Alastor instantly forgave her. However, she leaned in even closer, whispering softly into his ear, “Alastor, just a warning. You may want to swallow your pride.”
And with that warning, and a single knowing look, she took her leave. Heading into the conference room ahead of him. Befuddled, Alastor slowly trailed after her. The last to arrive.
In front of him, an enormous table with inlaid wood showing the coat of arms of the House of Carmine spread out before him. The walls were lined with impressive arrays of medieval arms and armor, more ornamental than practical. At the head of the table was the wintry countenance of Carmilla Carmine. At her elbow was Zestial, looming like a grand vizier. Spread out all along the table were a number of demonic faces, both familiar and not. Some of them were Overlords that Alastor had planned to take out in rapid succession in the very near future. Awkward... Then of course, there was Rosie, who smiled charmingly at him and waved him over to an empty seat beside her.
Taking his seat, Carmilla acknowledged him with a small nod. Before beginning the meeting. “Greetings Overlords. I have called you here to discuss a matter coming directly from the Royal Palace. But first, let’s greet our newest member. Alastor, the Radio Demon.”
Everyone’s faces turned to him, strangely hungry and knowing. He felt vaguely like prey. He hated it. So, he put on a cheerful smile, standing up against the pressure of their looks. “Pleasure to make your acquaintances. I do hope to know you all more... intimately very soon,” he cooed, looking very specifically at his latest target. Gratified to see them duck their heads down and away.
“Enough of that,” Carmilla warned. Alastor simply shrugged and took his seat. Paying attention as the warlord got back to the business at hand. “We received a letter from Queen Lilith with a very particular request.”
Another zing of unease went through Alastor. Lilith? What on Earth did she want?
“She has asked us to elect one of us as a representative of the Overlords. Zestial and I are of the opinion that only the most powerful Overlord should suffice. So, we shall go down the line and state our case. So, Suxxel, do you believe you are the strongest?”
“Not me,” Suxxel hissed with a forked tongue, coiling up in her seat. Well, Alastor supposed that made sense. She was next on his list.
“Dots?”
“Nope,” another reptile demon replied.
“Farhun?
“Nah,” a hyena-like demon replied.
...Wait a minute.
Going right down the line, each and every one of the most dastardly, demonic, power-hungry, vile souls in Hell to a tee stated that not one of them were the most powerful Overlord. Alastor thought back to Rosie’s warning. Did they all have some kind of prior knowledge before this meeting? Did they all know what this was about? What could Lilith have in mind that was so bad that not one of them were willing to stick their neck out.
“Rosie?”
Beside him, the cannibal Overlord said sweetly. “Oh no, not me.”
Finally, Carmilla’s cold gaze landed on the Radio Demon. Everyone was looking at him. However, he absolutely refused to let his nerves show. “Alastor?”
Smiling wryly at them, Alastor turned to their hosts. “Well, I wouldn’t want to overstep in my very first meeting. Hosts first, surely.”
“Well, it’s certainly not I,” Carmilla answered easily. “Zestial?”
“I would never deign to make such a claim,” the ancient Overlord replied, grinning a bright wicked green. All eyes turned back to Alastor.
This… was definitely a trap.
“Oh but I’m brand new,” Alastor said sweetly. “I would hardly be a suitable representative to the palace.”
“Then are you forfeiting the title of most powerful Overlord?” the warlord asked lightly.
…guh.
“Well, if you must insist,” Alastor finally relented, fighting to keep his smile from going strained. Beside him, Rosie sighed and slightly shook her head.
“Excellent!” Carmilla declared with a clap of her hands. “We will escort you to the palace immediately. The rest of us shall serve as your Honor Guard.”
...Or to make sure he didn’t run away. Which was only emphasized by the fact that he was immediately surrounded in his seat by all their smiling faces. That feeling of being hunted and trapped heightened exponentially as he was rather gently, but firmly escorted from the room and down to Carmilla’s private garage. He was piled into Carmilla’s own red and black Bugatti Type 57, enclosed on either side by Carmilla and Zestial, giving him no chance to escape. Leaving the others to fend for themselves to reach the palace.
This was... not good. Not good at all.
Surely it couldn’t be that bad though. He knew Lilith. Probably more than any of these degenerates. Whatever the Queen had planned, he could handle it.
~o~
Oh. He was very wrong.
Alastor realized that he was far out of his depth when an entire contingent of Hellborn palace guards were stationed at the gate to the palace grounds to greet the host of Overlords. Along with none other than Queen Lilith, Ruler of Hell... amongst other things. Beside her, a cherub of a princess, Princess Charlotte, holding her mother’s hand. Physically, she didn’t look more than nine, but looks were deceptive down here. There were a host of other courtiers and servants Alastor didn’t recognize, but one that he did in the form of the doddering simpering imp of a steward known as Oljub. The only one that the Queen confided in about hers and Alastor’s... unique situation. Always half-heartedly hiding a sneer whenever he came by to serve them tea in Lilith’s private office.
“Carmilla, how good to see you again,” Lilith spoke as the warlord graced her with the most perfunctory of bows. “I take it that you’ve accepted my offer.”
“Indeed,” Carmilla replied, gesturing an arm behind her. Like a parting wave, they all drew back from Alastor. Putting him rather on the spot. “And we have made our selection. The most powerful Overlord of our number.”
Alastor began to sweat as the Queen looked him over with her icy blue eyes. “...Oh really?” she said lightly, as always looking at him as if she could see right through him. However, she did not give up the game as she said, “And what is your name, Overlord?”
“Alastor, Your Majesty,” he replied, giving a curt bow. He could just feel Oljub’s judgy beady little eyes on him.
That was when the cherubic little princess, all dressed in pink, came up to tug on Alastor’s coat. He looked down on her, looking at her big bright eyes and doll-like cheeks. “Mr. Alastor,” she said with an adorable lisp, “Are you going to marry my daddy?”
That was when Alastor’s entire world bottomed out.
He tried to flee. He really did. But his legs locked up before he could dip out into his shadows. He looked up and saw the self-satisfied look in Lilith’s eyes. “Well, let’s all get inside, shall we?” she suggested, turning towards the stone paved pathway to the palace. “We have lunch prepared.”
It was surreal actually passing through the front doors of the palace, out in the open and the bright light. Especially surrounded by a vanguard of Overlords and Hellborn alike. The entrance hall was as grand as a cathedral, vaulted ceilings buttressing up stained glass windows with apple motifs. They were led to a banquet hall that could easily fit hundreds. The party of courtiers and Overlords were seated at the white linen table decked with all kinds of delicacies, from aspic fish molds to fertilized ostrich eggs, to tiny finger sandwiches for the little princess.
Alastor found himself alarmingly seated just one seat apart from Lilith at the head of the table. Princess Charlotte was on her right, the empty seat between them on her left. And if what the little princess said was any indication, the deer demon knew exactly who was supposed to be there.
A silver cloche appeared in front of him. He glanced over to see Oljub smirking at him before picking up the cover. A fetid head of a deer sat on his plate, its eyes a rank congealed green, black tongue lolling out of its mouth.
The irony wasn’t exactly lost on him.
In any case, he felt far too queasy to eat. Instead watching and waiting for Carmilla and Lilith to stop eyeballing each other and just get on with it. After everyone got settled, drinks in hand, the Queen rose up to her feet and raised a glass.
“Ladies and gentlemen, sinners and hellborn alike, I am honored to stand before you today as we gather not only to celebrate our esteemed guests, but also the momentous occasion that brings us all together. This union between hellborn and sinners signifies a new future of strength and alliance. So let us raise our glasses in a toast to congratulate Alastor on his engagement to the King and to the exciting future ahead. Cheers.”
“CHEERS!” a riot of voices echoed filling the din of the banquet hall. Meanwhile, Alastor was trying very hard not to be sick. He didn’t suppose that standing up and declaring he wasn’t gay was going to make a lick of difference here. Especially when Lilith could silence him with just a look.
The party descended into loosely controlled chaos, as booze was imbibed and people were immediately offended, breaking into arguments and half-hearted tussles. Thankfully the Hellguard were around to keep things from getting too out of hand. Beside him, Lilith leaned over his shoulder and said quietly. “Alastor, a word?”
Swallowing thickly, he stood from his seat. Only just managing to catch Rosie’s eyes. She sent him a pitying look. He ducked his gaze away, following the Queen out of the banquet hall and to a small private antechamber. One he was rather intimately familiar with.
Lilith sat down at the small desk in the room, leaving him to stand by the closed door. “I have to say, Alastor, this was a bit of a surprise. Did you volunteer for this?”
“Of course not,” Alastor replied tartly.
“No, I suppose you didn’t,” the Queen smiled. “And I bet none of them realized just what they did. Did they think that they could milk you for information on the palace? How funny. I couldn’t have planned it better.” She leaned forward on her desk and crooked a finger to beckon him closer. He did, reluctantly. Her icy blue eyes lit up with power and he could feel the chain tighten around his neck. “First things first, Alastor, you will never let the king know about the arrangement we have. Is that understood?”
“Y-yes,” he choked out.
“Secondly...” Without even moving, she yanked, forcing his body to buckle. He barely caught himself on the edge of her desk, slamming his hands and elbows into the wood. Head bowed as he rasped for breath. Lilith leaned over the desk and spoke in a soft, silky, dangerous tone into his ear. “If you do anything to hurt him, I will rip your Soul apart into such tiny pieces that even the crows won’t be able to find enough of you to make a meal out of you.”
With that, she released the tension on his chain, allowing him to stand back up under his own power. “Now,” she said cheerfully, “I believe you have a party to get back to. After all, you’re the guest of honor.”
Leaning heavily on the edge of the desk, Alastor fought to catch his breath. His voice extra static as he said, “And what about the other guest of honor? Where is he, anyway?”
“He is otherwise engaged,” Lilith replied without missing a beat. “Besides, this many sinners in a room would have been too much for him.” As if to make her point, a loud crash sounded from the banquet hall, followed by bloodthirsty cries and hollers. “I’ll bring you to him later. Now, shall we?”
From there, she led the way back to the banquet hall where a fight was breaking out between a couple Overlords and a Goetian courtier. Lilith sighed heavily, raising a hand to the guards. Suddenly, a sonic screech pierced the air, making everyone cry out in agony as crystal threatened to shatter. Alastor straightened from where he had placed two hands over the princess’s delicate little ears. Then wordlessly he took his seat again, keeping his bearing as stately as possible. The ones who had started the fight slunk back to their seats, tails tucked between their legs. The other Overlords looked on Alastor with a newfound sense of respect.
“Well,” Lilith said softly, as the feast resumed, “welcome to the family.”
~o~
The so-called luncheon went on for hours, extending well into evening. However, Overlords didn’t get to where they were by purely following their indulgences, so one by one they began to beg off to go back to their homes. A luxury that Alastor no longer had. He was kept strong-armed at the gate by Lilith’s and the princess’s side as the last of the Overlords made their way. Namely Zestial and Rosie.
“Can I give you a hug?” Rosie asked, while Zestial occupied the queen’s ear.
“I... oh, well, I suppose,” Alastor replied awkwardly. He didn’t think he’d had a single hug ever since coming down here. So it was a bit surreal to feel motherly arms wrap up around him, providing a comforting warmth. It was... actually nice.
Pulling back, Rosie smiled at him, clasping his hands in hers. “Now, you call me if you need anything, alright doll? Just call the switchboard at Cannibal Town and ask for Rosie. They’ll know how to find me.”
“Thank you Rosie, I shall,” he promised. Only to freeze when he felt a large black hand clasp onto his shoulder.
“We shall see you at the next Cabal,” Zestial said with a delighted smile, looming over him like a vulture. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Of course,” Alastor replied, smile strained. Then feeling like he had to get in the last word, he added, “Though I do hope you’ll stop by for tea sometime.” He had no idea yet if he could even do that yet, but what was the point of being engaged to a king if he couldn’t throw his weight around a little.
A flicker of something went through Zestial’s eyes. Something between amusement and something else. “Good luck, dear boy,” the ancient Overlord said, before finally taking his leave with Rosie alongside him.
Beside him, he heard the Queen say, “Friends. How sweet.”
Alastor closed his eyes. He knew what that was code for. She would expect dossiers on the both of them. Not bothering to answer, he took a step past the gate and off the palace grounds. Only to hear a sharp, “Alastor, where are you going?”
The Radio Demon spun around, giving his queen a bright smile. “Well, as diverting as this all was, I did actually have a previous engagement tonight. And I will admit, this abruptness rather took me by surprise. I do have extracurriculars to attend to as an Overlord. I mean, that is why you want an Overlord in the family, isn’t it? To have a leg into that world?”
Lilith gave him a look that nearly turned sour before she regained her regal countenance, “Very well. You may go. Until the engagement is officially announced. After that, if you leave the palace you will need an escort.” She gestured to the Hellborn guards standing stiffly by the gate.
Alastor only hoped that translated into: ‘If you leave the palace through the front doors.’ Hopefully, the secret pathways were still open to him. In the meantime, he gave a curt bow to the royals. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Princess.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed into the City.
With each step he took away from the palace, the carefully crafted statesman began to fall away. Rage licked the inside of his skin, threatening to burn away all reason. And hunger. He was absolutely ravenous. He had felt powerless all day and now it was time to turn the tables.
Ripping apart and devouring not one, but two drunk and complacent Overlords would be just what the doctor ordered.
~o~
Later that night...
Suxxel hiccuped as she slithered down the dark street towards her residence after what turned into an impromptu after-party in the red light district. Up until tonight, she had been on edge, feeling like she was being hunted. She knew exactly by who. Everyone did.
So it was such a relief to know that Alastor, the Radio Demon, was trapped in the Royal Palace like some kind of prized hen. Leaving her able to continue on and do whatever she liked.
The light ahead in the dark street flickered. Shadows coiled like mist, growing more ominous. The glass in the shop windows began to mist over with frost.
Suxxel slowed underneath a street lamp. It was... suddenly too quiet.
The light flickered again. A lanky tall figure in red appeared right in front of her, causing her to jolt back in fright. The demon smiled down at her with sharp yellow teeth.
Suxxel grasped her chest. “Oh! It’s only you,” she cried, relieved. Before she turned a sneer on him and crowed, “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your precious betrothed? Mr. ‘Most Powerful Overlord in Hell’?”
The Radio Demon didn’t say anything. Just kept smiling. The shadows crept closer. He watched her with black and red dial eyes. Was it her imagination or did he seem taller?
That was when she noticed the smell. Hot, coppery, and unmistakable. So pungent that it sobered her drunken senses into sharpened clarity.
He wasn’t just wearing red. He was covered in it.
Fear finally took hold. But it was far too late. The Radio Demon loomed over her, fingers and neck elongating, body cracking with sickening crunches. She shrieked as the shadows engulfed her, as the Radio Demon’s maw opened. Laughter drowned out the screams of pain and terror as they slowly turned to static.