The Show Must Go On

🦆🎪 Single Dad | 🍎🐍 Fallen Pride | King of Hell | Blog ran by @bunny-is-cute

[take-that-depression]

🎪 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓲𝓻𝓬𝓾𝓼 🎪

What’s going on…???

🔥 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖌 𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘 🔥

No Minors. This tent is for adults only—if you’re under 18, shoo.

No Hate Talk. Ducks > drama. I don’t tolerate bigotry, harassment, or demon-level nastiness. They are babies here on this blog.

Mod (Bunny) Has Full Control. This is my circus, my rules. Don’t like it? There’s the exit.

ℕ𝕠𝕨, 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕥— 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕨’𝕤 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕟. 🎪

Important Links:

The Baby Daddy Reveal

[take-that-depression]

If this still the place for Vox-related asks? If so, I want to let him know that he should make sure Shok.Wav is ready for a little brother. Wouldn't want repeat of what happened with Fat Nuggets and Vanilla.

Meanwhile…

Vox: *gushing at Shok.wav*

Vox: Oh! Thanks for the reminder! *pulls out Shok.Wav’s controls on his system and a needle is produced. He pricks himself and lets his computers scan his DNA* There! Now anyone with my DNA bio markers and at minimum half, will recognized as “family” to Shok.Wav. *turns to the shark, going back to gushing* You’re gonna be such a protective big brother! Who will? You will! *Just goes back to gushing*

[yaomao052113]

you're invited!🎪

[take-that-depression]

* gives Lucifer a duck plushie* Here, Lucifer, it's not much, but it might help a bit.

Lucifer: *accepts the duck plushie* Thank you. 🥺 *takes a deep breath* I’ve been in therapy. And I’ve learned quite a bit about myself.

Like… how I was the scapegoat in my family.

Lilith… always blamed me for things. And she often told Charlie that I was a bad man. I thought that I’d blocked all those memories. But that’s where some of my anxiety comes from.

I miss Charlie and Sammy… I hope I can go home soon

[take-that-depression]

Hey Lucifer. How's your recovery? Sammy is fine, by the way. He's loved and well taken care of.

Lucifer: *making macaroni art of ducks* Huh?? *realizes someone is talking to him* Oh hi! Hello! *jumps up from his seat* Sorry you uh… caught me when I was in the creative zone. *clears his throat* Well… I’ve been okay… not perfect… but better than yesterday… I think?

Belle says I’m doing better now that I’m on medicine… but I still have the thoughts from… I don’t know what to call it. The past? The not-happening now present? Fictional world? *shakes his head* I was really in a bad way.

And I’m happy Sammy is doing good! *looks away* I’m scared… I keep having those nightmares about… *stops talking* No. I can’t say it out loud. It’s too horrible. *sits back down* I can’t keep having those dark, intrusive thoughts. Sorry but I need to go back to my art work… *goes back to gluing pasta on paper with a scared expression on his face as the bad thoughts were returning*

[take-that-depression]

How’s Lucifer holding up charlie? Is he keeping contact with you to give you updates? :( I hope you’re alright

Charlie: *devastated* No. Aunt Bel says he’s not ready for contact. I guess he was way worse than what we saw.

At first Dad had been sending breastmilk for Sammy. But that had to stop after the first few days when he needed more powerful medicine to sedate him and help him get back to a decent mental state.

[aneldritchfootnote]

"I watched your world burn as it came into creation and I will be there to watch it burn once more as it ends."

🍎 🔥

[vanemiin]

"I'll shelter and adore you more than anything"

[take-that-depression]

Charlie, I know you needed help, but I'm not so sure if it's a good idea to make another deal where you and Vaggie owe him two favors each.

Charlie: It’s one favor each, so two in total. And the last favor Alastor asked wasn’t too terrible.

Vaggi: Charlie I agree with this… poster? Please reconsider!

Charlie: It’s too late now. But listen. Why don’t we go back to our suite and take a long nap since we’re both exhausted. Okay?

Vaggi: …can we fool around before that nap?

Charlie: Of course!

[take-that-depression]

Hey, Charlie, are you and Sammy doing ok?

One week later…

The Hazbin Hotel is louder than usual.

Not with music.

With screaming.

Charlie stands in the middle of the living room, hair a mess, robe half-on, bouncing Sammy awkwardly against her shoulder like she’s following instructions from a cursed pamphlet.

Sammy: *screaming, face red, fists clenched*

Charlie: *near tears* I fed him! I changed him! I sang to him! I tried the duck thing! Why is he still crying?!

Vaggi: *pacing, rubbing her temples, holding a bottle she reheated three times already* Okay, okay—maybe he’s overtired? Or undertired? Or—why do babies do this??

Sammy: *cries harder*

Charlie: I am literally the Princess of Hell. I have faced exterminations. I cannot defeat this baby.

Sammy hiccups, then wails so hard he briefly turns bluish.

Vaggi: *instantly panicked* Okay—nope, nope, that’s not good—Charlie, give him to me—

She takes Sammy, trying to soothe him. He only screams louder.*

Vaggi: *strained* …He misses your dad.

Charlie: *voice breaking* I know. I miss him too.

Alastor leans against a doorway, arms crossed, watching the chaos with sharp, thoughtful eyes. Calliope sits on his hip, quietly chewing on one of his gloves, perfectly content.

Calliope: *happy baby noises*

Alastor: *dryly, to himself* This is certainly a mess, huh Calliope?

Calliope: *looks up at Alastor’s voice, still cooing*

Another minute of screaming passes.

Charlie: *finally snaps, turning toward Alastor* —Okay! Okay, no, I can’t do this! *crosses the room in a rush* Alastor, please. I’m begging you. You have a baby. A functional, healthy, not-crying baby. You know what you’re doing!

Alastor: *arches a brow* My dear, I never said that.

Calliope pats his cheek approvingly.

Charlie: *desperate* Please. I can’t run the hotel and watch my baby brother scream himself sick. I can’t.

Vaggi: *steps in, tense* Charlie—

Charlie: Vaggi, I’m serious. He needs someone who knows how to help him. And right now? That’s not us.

Sammy: *lets out another raw, exhausted cry*

Alastor: * grin falters—just a fraction* …No.

Charlie: *grabs his sleeve* Please. I’ll do anything! I’ll even make another deal with you

Vaggi: *grits her teeth* Charlie, we don’t make deals with him anymore.

Charlie: *eyes wet, voice shaking* I already did once. I survived it. And Sammy needs this.

Alastor studies them both for a long moment. The stress. The fear. The genuine desperation.

Alastor: *sighs* Very well.

Charlie: *brightens instantly* Really?!

Alastor: *raises a finger* On one condition.

Vaggi: No.

Alastor: *ignores her, voice smooth* I will care for the boy as though he were my own. Feed him. Soothe him. Protect him. I will not let harm come to him.

He looks down at Sammy—really looks. The exhaustion. The searching cries.

Alastor: In exchange, I require two favors.

Charlie: *swallows.* …What kind of favors?

Alastor: *smiles wider* One from you, Princess. One from you, dear Vaggi. To be named at a time of my choosing.

Vaggi: *steps in front of Charlie* Absolutely not. No. We are not bargaining our souls over babysitting.

Charlie: *quiet but firm* It’s not my soul. It’s favors.

Vaggi: Charlie—

Charlie: *looking at Sammy, voice breaking again* He’s suffering. And Dad trusted me. I can’t fail him.

Vaggi: *angry, conflicted* You know this is exactly how he gets leverage.

Charlie: I know…Deal.

Vaggi: Charlie!

Alastor: *extends his hand, glowing* Do we have a deal?

Charlie hesitates only a second before shaking.

Alastor: *static crackles softly* Splendid!

He gently takes Sammy. Almost instantly, the crying slows—then softens into weak sniffles.

Sammy: *small, tired noises*

Alastor: *low, surprised murmur* …Ah. There we are.

Calliope leans over, touching Sammy’s sleeve.

Charlie: *hands over her mouth, stunned* He stopped…

Vaggi: *exhales sharply* I hate that this worked.

Alastor: *adjusts both babies with practiced ease* You may visit anytime. I will keep him safe until his father returns.

His tone turns just a shade more serious.

Alastor: Lucifer’s boy will lack for nothing.

Charlie: *nods, tears slipping free—relief and guilt tangled together* Thank you.

[take-that-depression]

So Charlie, I guess that makes you the temporary queen of Hell until Lucifer gets better, make sure to care of Sammy and keep him safe from harm

Charlie: *blinks, still holding Sammy close, the weight of everything finally settling in* …Temporary queen? *lets out a small, shaky laugh that doesn’t quite land.* I— I don’t think Dad would like it phrased like that. He’s not gone. He’s getting help.

She looks down at Sammy, gently adjusting the blanket around him, instinctively protective.

Charlie: But… yeah. I’ll take care of him. I promise.

Her voice firms, something steadier taking root beneath the fear.

Charlie: Sammy’s my brother. No one’s laying a finger on him. Not an overlord, not Heaven, not anyone.

Vaggi: *steps closer, hand resting on Charlie’s back* And she won’t be doing it alone.

Charlie: *nods, eyes lifting with quiet resolve* Hell’s not going to fall apart because my dad needs time to heal. If anything… this is when it needs kindness the most.

[take-that-depression]

LUCI NO!!! *grabs him before he could jump out* WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING YOUR GONNA KILL SAMMY LIKE THAT!!!

Lu, listen to me. You need to let other help you, it's clear that your depression is taking a massive toll on you, so why don't you let your friends and family take care of Sammy until you fix yourself back up.

You are loved Lucifer, loved by those around you. Charlie, Vaggi, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Calliope and maybe, just maybe a teensy bit of Alastor. We're all here to help, for you and Sammy.

The doors to the suite swing open with unhurried authority.

Belphegor enters flanked by a full medical team—orderlies, healers, and monitors humming softly with Sloth-ring enchantments. Unlike the others, Bel doesn’t rush. Her presence alone slows the room, like gravity finally reasserting itself.

Belphegor: *eyes immediately on Lucifer, voice calm and firm* Luci.

Lucifer flinches at the nickname. Then his shoulders sag.

Lucifer: *weak, almost relieved* …Hey, Bel.

Belphegor: Give me the baby.

Charlie: *instinctively helps, guiding Sammy into the medic’s arms* He’s okay—he was crying but—

Belphegor: *already scanning Sammy, precise, practiced* He’s fine. Elevated heart rate from stress, but no trauma. Strong lungs. Good color.

Sammy hiccups, then settles, tiny fingers curling around a medic’s glove.

Belphegor: *to the team* Neonatal stable. Keep him warm. No separation anxiety protocols—he’s bonded.

She turns back to Lucifer, eyes sharp now.

Belphegor: Now you.

Lucifer tries to straighten, immediately winces, one hand drifting protectively toward his abdomen.

Lucifer: I… I didn’t mean to make a scene.

Belphegor: *flat* You almost jumped out a window while hemorrhaging and psychotic. *kneels in front of him, lowering her voice.* Lucifer, you’re experiencing postpartum psychosis compounded by medication withdrawal, sleep deprivation, and a surgical wound you’ve been actively preventing from healing *gaze softens—not pity, but care* You are not safe to yourself right now.

Lucifer: *swallows hard* …Am I safe to them?

Belphegor: Not without help.

Lucifer: *exhales, long and shaky. Then he nods.* Okay. Okay… I’ll go.

Charlie: *breath leaves her in a sob of relief. Thank you. Thank you, Dad.

Belphegor gestures, and the orderlies gently bring the stretcher closer.

Lucifer: *looks at Charlie, eyes wet* Hey… hey. Could you— *voice cracks* Could you watch your brother for me? Just until I’m better.

Charlie: *grabs his hand* Of course. As long as it takes.

Vaggi: *firm, reassuring* We’ve got him. And we’ve got you.

Lucifer nods, then looks to Sammy, now swaddled and calm. He leans forward with effort, pressing a careful kiss to the baby’s forehead.

Lucifer: *whispering* I love you so much, little star. I’m gonna get better. I promise.

Sammy squirms, making a tiny sound.

Lucifer’s gaze lifts—to Alastor.

No jokes. No static.

Just two dads who have both seen too much.

Alastor: *quiet, sincere* You survived worse than this. Surviving yourself is simply the next act.

Lucifer: *huffs a weak laugh* I can’t believe I’m saying this, but pleased take care of them for me.

Alastor: As though they were my own.

The orderlies help Lucifer onto the stretcher. He doesn’t resist. He reaches out one last time, squeezing Charlie’s hand.

Lucifer: I love you, my sweet Char Char.

Charlie: *through tears* I love you too Dad.

Belphegor places a steady hand on Lucifer’s shoulder as the stretcher begins to move.

The doors close behind them.

Sammy sleeps peacefully in Charlie’s arms, though now the calm has come after the chaos and it’s unsettling.

That is until Charlie collapses on her knees and cries loudly, holding her brother while Vaggi hold her.

Alastor watches them in their huddle, but he does know they’re his to watch over now.

[take-that-depression]

Calling Charlie and Belphegor

Hello, this is someone concerned about your majesty/your father. He is going through severe psychosis and going through a massive depressive spiral and is thinking about going throw the window. I think he needs both of you RIGHT NOW.

Charlie rounds the corner, humming softly, already rehearsing what she’s going to say to her dad when she checks on him again. Something gentle. Something reassuring.

She stops.

Lucifer stands at the open window.

The curtains billow in the sulfur-warm air. Neon lights from Pentagram City glow far below. And in Lucifer’s arms—

Sammy.

Charlie’s heart drops into her stomach.

Charlie: *voice breaking, barely louder than a whisper* …Dad?

Lucifer doesn’t turn. He’s swaying slightly, bare feet on the sill, wings half-spread in an instinctive, broken reflex.

Lucifer: *distant, eerily calm* It’s okay, Charlie. I’ve got him. I just need to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere I won’t mess things up anymore.

Charlie: *panic flooding her face, forcing herself to stay still* Dad, please—please step away from the window. You’re bleeding. You’re not healed yet.

Lucifer: *looks down at Sammy, smiling faintly* He’s so light. I don’t even think he’ll notice. I can still fly. I just… forgot how for a little while.

Sammy: *still crying*

Charlie: *hands shaking as she slowly pulls out her phone, keeping her eyes locked on Lucifer*

Dad, listen to me. You don’t have to do anything right now. Just—just talk to me, okay? Talk to me like you used to.

Lucifer: *frowns, confused* Why are you crying? I fixed it. This fixes everything.

Charlie turns slightly, shielding the phone with her body as she hits speed dial.

Charlie: *hoarse whisper into the phone* Vaggi—please. I need you. It’s my dad. He’s at the window. He has Sammy.

The line clicks—another call patched in.

Alastor: *radio-static crackle, instantly alert* My dear, I’m on my way. Do not hang up.

Charlie: *voice trembling* Please hurry *steps forward just a fraction, hands outstretched. Dad… look at me. Not the city. Not the sky. Me.

Lucifer: *slowly turns his head, eyes unfocused, too bright* Charlie…? When did you get so scared?

Charlie: *tears spilling freely now* When I thought I was about to lose you. Both of you.

Footsteps thunder down the hall—Vaggi’s voice already calling out, sharp with fear.*

Vaggi (offscreen): Charlie!

Lucifer: *looks panicked* W-what are you doing Ch-char-char? *his eyes turn to the window that seems to be calling his name… and a part of him wanted to go to it*

Charlie: *voice sharp with fear but gentle, stepping into Lucifer’s line of sight* Dad—Dad, look at me. Please. I’m right here.

Lucifer clutches Sammy too tightly, breath coming fast and uneven. Sammy’s cries escalate.

Vaggi: *arrives and immediately hands up, slow movements* Whoa. What’s going on here?

Alastor: *arrives via shadow* Looks like the king is in need of some calming down. *walks over closer but sees Lucifer eyeing the window* Lucifer. Come now, you won’t really—

Lucifer: *wild-eyed, backing toward the window* You’re lying. You always say that right before everything gets taken away. I can fix this—I just need air. I can fly. I’ve always been able to fly.

Alastor: *voice unusually low, stripped of its usual cheer, radio-static barely audible* My dear… you are injured. Your body hasn’t healed. You know that. Flying right now would not end well—for you or the little one.

Lucifer: *shakes his head violently* No—no, no, no, you don’t get it. If I don’t do something, he’ll be better off without me. I ruin everything I touch.

Charlie: *tears streaming, inching closer* Dad, that’s not you talking. That’s the illness. That’s the postpartum psychosis—you’re sick, not broken.

Lucifer: *laughs hysterically, then sobs* Don’t call me sick like it’s not my fault! I stopped the meds. I knew better. I did this. I always do this. *reaches the window, hand trembles on the frame.*

Alastor: *voice firm now* Lucifer, listen to me. Your magic isn’t stable. Your body just went through a pregnancy, energy being drained and surgery that you still haven’t recovered firm. You are bleeding. You will not survive that jump—and Sammy won’t either.

That lands. Lucifer freezes, breath hitching.

Lucifer: *whispers* …He won’t?

Alastor: *softly* No. And you would never want to hurt him. Not in a million eternities.

Sammy lets out a small, broken cry. Lucifer looks down at him—really looks. The baby’s tiny fists clutching fabric. His face red, scrunched, alive.

Lucifer: *voice cracking* He needs me… doesn’t he?

Charlie: *steps closer, close enough to touch now* Yes. He needs his dad. And his dad needs help right now—and that’s okay.

Lucifer: *knees buckle, collapsing to the floor, still holding Sammy but loosening his grip* I don’t want to die. I don’t want him to die. I just—everything feels so loud and wrong and I can’t tell what’s real.

Vaggi: *kneels too, steadying Sammy, helping reposition him safely* That’s the psychosis talking. It lies. It makes everything feel urgent and true when it isn’t.

Charlie: *pulls out her phone already dialing* I’m calling Auntie Bel. She will help. Not to punish. I will personally ensure no one treats you as anything less than a father in crisis.

Lucifer: *sobbing openly now* I’m scared. *weak, exhausted* Please… don’t let me be alone with my head like that again.

Charlie: We won’t. Not ever again. *goes back to the phone when Bel answers* Auntie! It’s Charlie. Please come immediately to the hotel. My dad needs your help!

Vaggi and Alastor walk closer to Lucifer, making sure he steps away from the window entirely and sits down on the bed.

Lucifer: *muttering* I’m sorry. I’m sorry…

[take-that-depression]

Jesus Christ, this is sad. It is clear you need to take your anti-depressant medication. You need to stop breastfeeding so you can take your meds. Your mental health comes first after all.

Lucifer: *wakes up and hears that and he immediately picks up Sammy* NO! he’s my baby! I need to feed my baby! He needs me!

Sammy: *starts to cry from the sudden movement and shouting*

Lucifer: *looks around panicked, as though he needs to run away* Don’t take my baby! *looks at the window nearby and starts heading over to it*

[take-that-depression]

Hey Lucifer, we talked about this your not a shitty dad.

* puts two pillow plushies between his head*

You are doing the best you can as a king and a father. Not everything is going to turn out right in the end, but that doesn't mean you’re a shitty dad. If anything, you are a good dad, and you deserve happiness as much as anyone right now.

If you are still not feeling like yourself, it might help to talk to someone about it. Bel, Charlie, or even a therapist, you can, it can help to talk about what you're going through.

Lucifer: I… I want to believe that… that I’m not a screw up. But I am… and I need to accept it. *looks over at Sammy, who was sleeping peacefully* Maybe… I shouldn’t keep him *his eyes loosing light* maybe… I… was wrong…

His eyes roll back and he collapses, unaware of what just happened…

[take-that-depression]

You doing ok, Lucifer?

Lucifer: I am… but I’m not. Does that make sense? Like everything and everyone around me is doing good. And physically I’m okay but like… I don’t feel the way I should.

Like, I should be happy right? I have Charlie in my life again! I just gave birth to my son Sammy! Should be on cloud nine!

But I know I don’t deserve it! Ya know? Happiness? I’m a shitty dad! I was a shitty husband and I don’t know how to fix it or be better and when I do try to help I always end up screwing up and… *continues to spiral as he’s only remembering he worse things and thinking that he’s not worth it*

[take-that-depression]

You have done so much for Charlie and Sam, I'm sure they will love and appreciate you for what you done for them.

Lucifer: *he can’t have his anti-depressants because his insisting on breastfeeding* Yeah. I hope so…