Chapter Text
Lucifer wasn’t a beacon of knowledge. He knew about ducks. He knew about politics. But what he knew right now was that he was fucking pissed. Be cause on TV, in the parlor of the hotel, was Katie Killjoy, shamelessly slandering him.
Lucifer Morningstar; Is He Slipping? Read the broadcast, with Katie chirping in her signature crude demeaning, and oddly masculine voice.
”Many of you know that after the extermination, which consisted of literal hordes of exorcists coming down to slum it, Lucifer came back from his decade long sabbatical and returned to help his daughter defend her misguided passion project!” Said Katie, clicking her pen repeatedly, making a splotch of dark blue ink on her otherwise pristine red bodycon dress.
“But, Lilith was nowhere to be seen! Quite juicy, no? After a long and boring fight, it has become quite apparent that Lilith has taken a sabbatical as well! From no other than her husband, our king, Lucifer. What an exciting coincidence! Can we assume that Lucifer has been slumming it with us singles lately?”
Her co-host, Tom Trench, cut in abruptly.
“If he’s ready to mingle, I sure as hell hope he comes my way.”
Katie giggled politely, but it was clear that a vein was popping in her neck as Tom continued to ramble. She finally smacked his hand with hers, digging her nails deep into his skin, effectively shutting him up.
“Looking at this, one could assume that he’d have his walls knocked down with suitors ready to be his blushing bride. But, as it seems, no one has come! Maybe we should-“
The TV was suddenly turned off, and as Lucifer looked around the room, he could feel the stares of his friends looking at him with expressions ranging from concern to humor.
Charlie was the first to speak. “Dad?” She began cautiously, holding her hand over his in a hesitant fashion.
Plastering a self-deprecating smile on his face, he turned to her. Surely this wasn’t a huge deal. After all, how many people could watch that specific channel?
“Charlie, dear, it’s nothing! You know, us royals always have our fans, those who want to exploit everything we do. After all, what else would your news anchor broadcast about?” He spoke with a bubbly demeanor, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stood up. Angel was clearly trying not to laugh on the sofa next to him, tears in the corner of his eyes as he shook Husk with laughter, The latter looking at Angel in good humor, amusement in his own face at the spider demons reaction.
“Oh, buddy, I wouldn’t worry bout it,” started Angel, wiping his eyes on his long pink gloves. “Plenty of celebrities get trashed daily by that bitch Katie. Everyone takes the shit she says with a few grains o’ salt. You don’t gotta worry.”
Lucifer chuckled uncomfortably, but as he traveled up to his room, he wasn’t so sure it would all be forgotten. He had an image to uphold. And if that image was slipping, so would his respect, something that he demanded quite a lot of.
-
Alastor’s day wasn’t going much better than Lucifer’s, although he was yet to find this out. He was on his way to an overlord’s meeting, no doubt discussing the recent turn of events that angels could be fought off. As he tracked through the streets of hell, he gained his usual satisfaction from watching the passerby’s run from him, trying to get out of his line of sight. Something about knowing how scared people were of him gave him a thrill. He supposed he had carried that from his days in the human world. However, something about them seemed off today. He perished the thought.
As he stepped into the elevator carrying him up to the tower, he remembered his last meeting here. He - or rather one of Sir Pentious’s eggs - had discovered that angels could be killed. Quite an eventful meeting, to say the least. Humming to himself, he watched the ground beneath him shrank as the elevator carried him up to the 69th floor of the building. He stepped out of the elevator, and as he did he felt that something was off. The mood, and specifically the ways in which the other overlords were regarding him. Velvet’s reaction to him was the most extreme, the obvious and sharp intake of breath, followed by the look of confusion. It gave him a sort of satisfaction to know that he had scrambled her brain. He did love confusing people.
But then came an expression he did not expect in the slightest. A Look of Delirium. Eyeing him up and down, her smirk grew, and she twirled her pigtails absentmindedly as she started giggling. After a moment, she shrugged to seemingly no one, and waltzed openly into the meeting room.
Curious.
Following in succession, Alastor slipped inside the room, only to be met with the gaze of a giant neon colored dinosaur demon. He always forgot her name, referring to her as ‘the gila monster’ In his head.
“Woah, buddy, I thought you was dead,” said the overlord, a look of amused confusion apparent on her unreal features.
Alastor decided to humor her.
“Not dead, my dear. Simply taking a sabbatical. I was at the most recent meeting, did you not see me there?”
The dinosaur shook her head once, making a clinking sound as her multitude of peircing jangled against eachother.
“Nah, I’m talkin about last week. That Adam guy killed you. Atleast, that’s what I saw.”
Oh, shit.
Suddenly it all made sense. The looks of borderline pity, the Offenes of sinners on the streets. He had been thought dead. Dead, or greatly wounded. How shameful.
Attempting to keep a lighthearted demeanor, he shook his head, his thick red hair loosening as he did so.
“As if a mere angel could keep the likes of me down for long.” He said, scoffing as if the statement was utterly dubious.
But inside, he could feel his stomach churning. What would his enemies think if they knew he wasn’t entirely undefeatable?
His reputation largely thrived from people assuming that they could never be a match for him. If that illusion was revoked, his illusion of utter control, catastrophe would ensue.
-
Throughout the meeting, Alastor was aware of the sidelong glances from the other overlords. But the only thing that caught his attention specifically was a radio broadcast that was announced through his cane. Some sort of sinner theorizing about Lucifer, tarnishing the Morningstar name, etc.
Nothing of particular interest to him, but good cannon fodder for his never-ending battle of wits with the king of hell.
-
Well, wasn’t that all humiliating, thought Alastor as he made his way through the doors of the hotel long after nightfall. The red sky beamed through the windows, casting an almost surreal air upon the parlor. The only ones still in the parlor were Lucifer and Angel-Dust at the bar, both talking to Husk who seemed to be up to his eyeballs in makeshift therapy sessions with the two of them.
Lucifer had his black clawed hand running through his tangled, choppy blonde hair, with his perpetual eye bags even more pronounced. Angel seemed to be comforting him about something.
Spying the state that the king was in, Alastor instantly walked to the bar with a grimace of a smile on his face.
“Lucifer, My good man, what is this I hear about you on the radio? Gaining more publicity for your daughter’s cause?” Asked Alastor in a voice of mock-interest, cocking his head and taking a seat beside the considerably shorter man.
“Shut up, you red prick,” replied Lucifer without missing a beat. “I’m not in the mood to be your punching bag. Go piss off someone else for a change.”
Alastor wasn’t deterred by the king’s acidic tone of voice, and instead leaned forward on his interlocked hands.
“What has you so down, your majesty? Not in the mood for some heart banter?” He asked, flicking the king’s shoulder with a red clawed finger.
“Not in the mood for your sadistic, fucked up sense of humor.” Spat the king dryly.
“My dear, is that any way to talk to someone who has been out on errands for the very hotel your daughter resides in?” Alastor asked, playful aggression in his voice as he jabbed Lucifer where he knew it would hurt. He knew the man cared for his daughter more than anything. So he was more than surprised whenever the king shrugged and didn’t bother to snap back.
“Hey, lay off,” said Husk, cleaning a crystal glass repeatedly, even though it already gleamed to perfection.
“Some bitch on TV was trashin his reputation.”
“Yeah they were!” Snarked Angel, wiggling his shoulders and licking his teeth. His bright pink eyes filled with laughter.
“Saying that he can’t get bitches and such. Honestly, I don’t know watchya lookin so down for, king. Even Niffty made a pass atchya when ya first got here. And that chick ain’t easy to swindle.”
Lucifer simply huffed, and Alastor felt an unfamiliar pang in his black heart. Looking down at the king, he saw his red eye filled with something that was entirely entertaining. Resignation.
So why did he feel this sharp worming in his gut, this feeling that he should do something to help the king?
This short firecracker of a man who did nothing but intrude on his daily life and irritate him to reckless abandon.
Reaching out awkwardly, Alastor made to set his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder. At last second, however, he changed his mind, opting to tap his fingers on the sleek hardwood bar countertop.
“If it’s any consolation, my friend, my day has been subpar as well.”
Alastor shuddered at the initial idea of this statement. What was he doing? Trying to comfort this man. And not only that, but he was disclosing personal information in an attempt to make Lucifer feel better. He just felt a sort of nagging. A responsibility. Looking into the king’s saddened eyes, it was the same feeling one might have when looking at a kicked dog. You simply had to comfort it.
“The overlords have been rather mocking, since my fight with Adam.”
And there it was. His cards on the table. He regretted it immediately, his ears drawing back as he realized what he said.
Before he had time to wallow, Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? Trying to make me feel better Bambi? You going soft on me?”
Alastor hissed with displeasure at the thought, shaking his head immediately. “Who am I to leave you to wallow in this hideous display of self-pity?” Asked Alastor, wishing to get back to the old fashion ribbing that had gone on between them. However, before he could say anything, he heard an excited gasp from across the bar.
Looking up, he saw Angel’s eyes wide open with a school-girlish ambition, as though he had just seen something that he desperately wanted that was within his price range. His hands were all flat on the table and he was alight with excitement.
“Oh. My. Shit. You know what you guys should do? Husk, you know what they should do?”
Husk shook his head tiredly, and gestured for angel to move on.
“Y’all. should. Fake. Date. OH MY GOD.” Angel dissolved into laughter, while both Alastor and Lucifer visibly recoiled at the idea.
Attempting to cover up the awkwardness of the situation with humor. Lucifer turned to Alastor, eyebrows raised.
“So watchya think, Bambi? Wanna give it a shot?” He said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“In your dreams,” replied Alastor sardonically with a flick of his wrist. “I’d rather die a thousand times over.”
“Nonono, hear me out,” Angel started again, seeming as though he were actually trying to persuade them. Alastor decided to humor the demon.
“So, If Lucifer dates you, Katie Killjoy won’t be able to say shit about how you don’t pull. Andddd, if Alastor starts dating Lucifer ova here, the Overlords will be so scared they’ll respect him no matter what. See? Flawless logic.”
Angel crossed his arms, looking at the two demons for what seemed like the longest time.
And Although Alastor didn’t want to agree, the plan had some merit. He shrugged noncommittally, until he realized how important this might be. He could have the overlords do his every wish. All sinners would be terrified to cross him. His power would be virtually unlimited with the king at his side. What he didn’t know was if Lucifer would be willing.
But as the king turned around, a question in his gaze, Alastor held out his hand for the king to take.
“So, it’s a deal then?” Asked Alastor jokingly, not intending to actually make a deal with the king of hell.
“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, sure.” Replied Lucifer, his cheeks flushing golden. He took the sinner’s hand and shook.