Vaggie The Moth Babe

Chapter 26: Confrontation with the King

Charlie stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, adjusting the collar of her formal suit. Her reflection showed her determined face, but inside, her emotions were swirling—anger, confusion, hurt. Today wasn't just any day. It was the day she needed answers, and the only person who could give them to her was the one who had been causing her so much heartache: her father.

Vaggie watched from the edge of the bed, her expression concerned but supportive. She could see the tension radiating off Charlie as she laced up her shoes, every movement precise but charged with a nervous energy. Vaggie knew this wasn't going to be easy for her girlfriend. Confronting Lucifer, the King of Hell and her own father, was a daunting task. But Charlie couldn't avoid it any longer.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Vaggie asked softly.

Charlie paused, her hand resting on the door handle. She took a deep breath and nodded. "I have to do this, Vaggie. I can't keep pretending everything's okay when it's not. He's crossed a line, and I need to know why."

Vaggie stood up, walking over to Charlie and squeezing her hand gently. "You're strong, and you'll get through this. No matter what, I'm here for you."

Charlie gave a small smile of gratitude before slipping out the door, her heart heavy with the weight of what was about to happen.

Lucifer's bedroom was as grand as ever, with dark crimson curtains draped from ceiling to floor and ornate, gothic furniture scattered throughout. The King of Hell was lounging casually on his bed, sipping a glass of dark wine, seemingly without a care in the world. But when the door creaked open and Charlie stepped inside, dressed in her formal attire, there was an undeniable shift in the atmosphere.

Charlie closed the door quietly behind her, standing tall as she looked at her father. Her usual warmth was absent, replaced by a serious, almost cold demeanor.

"Dad," she began, her voice steady but laced with frustration. "We need to talk."

Lucifer glanced up from his drink, raising an eyebrow as if surprised by the intensity in her tone. "Oh, my darling daughter," he greeted her with a smirk. "What brings you here so early? You're looking quite serious."

Charlie crossed the room, standing at the foot of his bed, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "I'm here because I want to know why you're acting like this. Why you've been... behaving so recklessly."

Lucifer's smirk faltered slightly, but he maintained his relaxed posture. "What do you mean, darling?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Don't play dumb, Dad. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Angel Dust, the flirting, the... sex. All of it." She bit her lip, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "You've been completely ignoring Mom—your wife, the Queen of Hell—and acting like none of it matters. Like she doesn't matter."

Lucifer sat up a little straighter, his eyes sharpening with a flicker of discomfort. He let out a forced chuckle, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, Charlie, you're making too much of this. It's all just a bit of fun. Angel is a notorious flirt, and, well... I may have indulged him, but it's nothing serious."

Charlie's voice rose in frustration. "Nothing serious? You're the King of Hell, and you've reduced yourself to—" She paused, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "You've reduced yourself to proving that you have the biggest... cock in all of Hell! That's what you're proud of now? Really, Dad?"

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie pressed on.

"I'm not just talking about you flirting with a porn star, or even what happened between you and Angel. It's the way you've been acting for months. Like nothing matters but your own ego. What happened to you? What happened to the father who, despite all his flaws, still cared about being a ruler, about being a father?"

Lucifer's playful façade began to crack. He set his glass of wine down on the bedside table and swung his legs off the bed, standing up. He tried to maintain his composure, but Charlie could see the conflict in his eyes.

"Charlie, you're being dramatic," he started, but his voice lacked its usual confidence. "You're reading too much into things. It's just... I've been bored. I needed... something to distract me."

Charlie stepped closer, her eyes locked onto his. "Bored?" she repeated, her voice incredulous. "You think this is all because you're bored? Dad, this isn't just about you! You have responsibilities—to me, to Mom, to Hell. But instead of acting like the king you're supposed to be, you've become a joke. And it's killing me to see you like this."

Lucifer turned away from her, his shoulders tensing. He didn't say anything for a moment, and the silence between them grew thick with tension.

"Why?" Charlie asked, her voice softer now, but still filled with pain. "Why are you doing this, Dad?"

There was a long pause before Lucifer finally spoke, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than Charlie had ever heard it.

"Because I'm... lonely."

Charlie blinked, taken aback. "What?"

Lucifer turned around, his expression no longer smug or playful. His eyes were filled with a sadness that Charlie hadn't seen before.

"Ever since your mother and I divorced, it's been... different," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "She's moved on, and I've been... left alone, with nothing but my own thoughts and regrets. I thought... I thought I could distract myself. Make myself feel better by indulging in... pleasures. But it hasn't worked. It never does."

Tears welled up in Lucifer's eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, as if embarrassed to show any weakness in front of his daughter.

"I know it's pathetic," he continued, his voice breaking. "I've been trying to fill the void with meaningless... things. But I can't. I miss her, Charlie. I miss your mother. And I don't know how to fix it."

Charlie's heart ached as she watched her father's façade crumble. For the first time in a long time, she saw him not as the powerful, untouchable King of Hell, but as a man—a man who was deeply flawed and hurting.

"Dad..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. "You should have told me. You should have talked to me instead of pushing everyone away."

Lucifer hung his head, his shoulders slumped. "I didn't know how," he admitted quietly. "I didn't know how to face the fact that I've lost everything that mattered."

Charlie reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You haven't lost everything, Dad. I'm still here. And maybe... maybe you and Mom can't be together anymore, but that doesn't mean you have to lose yourself too."

Lucifer looked up at her, tears still in his eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled—a small, sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Thank you, Charlie," he whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Charlie wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, and for the first time in a long while, Lucifer hugged her back, holding on like he didn't want to let go.