divinetree | Mom says it's my turn with the Alastor

"Pfft, flatterer- I'm turning into a little pear, but you're killing it with this clean-up you've got going on right now. Hold still, you dish."

He began a quick circle around his husband. "You'll get some prying eyes... I'll just have to start biting. They had all this time to call dibs and lost their shot!"

"HAH! I haven't the time for anything but the very best Creation has to offer," Alastor rebuffed with a laugh. And that pear shape was turning out very charming, if you asked Alastor. "But that's fine. Any eyes on me are eyes away from you. More for me to indulge instead."

He stopped his circle and his gaze sharpened. He playfully seized Alastor's tie.

"...Maybe I don't want all those eyes on what's mine..."

He ran the material between his fingers.

"'Cause if they make plans and try to make a move, I'd just have to kill 'em."

Alastor leaned forward, as if he'd almost anticipated the tie being pulled like a leash... and like he'd have given in completely.

"Don't you worry your feathery little head," Alastor replied softly, belying the subtle lethality in his tone. Lightly, he touched on that soft curve on Lucifer, gently so as not to disturb it being hidden, "I'm bound to you, and you to me... I'll bite just as hard towards any reaching hands. Bound by magic and blood for good, sha."

That view was enough to fuel his mind for a while. Golly, without even trying...

His expression faltered, softened slightly with the touch to the stomach. It was a salve to the whispers of body image downswings he'd been having of late. It was enough that he used the tie to gently bring Alastor a little lower to ease him into a kiss.

"...And may they never forget that, if they know what's good for them."

"Lovely thing," Alastor practically drawled into the kiss, before chuckling and caressing the bump. "Once the game is up and this isn't sneakily held away, I'm certain I'll be going on massacres of all of those reprobates lusting after you."

That's his. His beautiful husband, carrying his child. Even if he's a polite little husband to serve Lucifer while he's carrying, Alastor is keeping his claws sharp for everyone else.

"I want those front-row seats. And an umbrella."

A bloodlust that never fails to make the heart go pitty-pat. Oh, the game, the game... it would only pay off the most if they wanted just a little longer, but at the same time he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

There was strong appeal of it being their little secret for now, though. To be sequestered away like this, to be touched and hear so many wonderful things... perhaps he was soft as they say, but he didn't give a single, solitary crap.

He ran his hand up and down the caressing arm. "...Can't imagine we could just skip this whole event, could we...?"

"Afraid not, they'll do something inconvenient like come to us instead if we don't go. I'll make sure it's properly entertaining and our daring guests are properly mortified," Alastor chuckled, adoringly. "Ready now, sha? It's showtime."

Lucifer's response to having them come to them was a soft "Eww." Alastor was right, and they should just put up with the jackals if they wanted to have any relative peace and quiet for a time.

The king took a breath and eased it free. "Yep. Ready as I'll ever be."

He stepped to the side, and looped an arm.

With his own foppish delight, he joined that looped arm and leaned into Lucifer like the ever devoted little wife. Perfect for being far more eye-catching than Lucifer's subtle changes in his figure.

"Portals away~" he hummed in delight, following through to wherever Lucifer brought them for this ridiculous meeting. The fact that he hadn't announced he was joining was going to make this reaction even funnier - dropped jaws, nervous gulps, sweating brows. Hah! Picture perfect indeed.

A snap, and there was the doorway.

It really was a ridiculous meeting, the product of an invitation sent his way to join a gathering of a few Goetia and elites in a simple indoor party with no real discernible purpose than 'we have money, let's pretend to tolerate each other'. To have the King of Hell attend was purely for bragging rights, and as distasteful as Lucifer found being used for that reason, he'd turned down enough invitations that he shot straight from being 'tough to get a hold of' to 'useless, why bother, he's just a figurehead'.

It was always some ridiculous balance, but a fella only had enough time in the day with his own matters before he needed to stand around and drink and mingle with complete strangers.

Word had gotten around that the King had remarried. Despite the flurry of asking who it was, who it was, the 'rumors' of it being Alastor the Radio Demon would tend to be answered with incredulous laughter and to stop kidding around. But the sheer number of eyes that turned, and even the hired band that had momentarily stopped playing, spoke volumes.

Some things were now confirmed.

Lucifer cleared his throat audibly, and dusted off his scarf. "Awww, are we turning heads? Good to see we haven't lost the way to make an entrance!"

Oh, every one of them was ruffled by this - most Goetia were more powerful than a Sinner, even one like Alastor, but these damn birds and beasts can't look down on him any longer.

"My, and how quiet it is - you should have reminded me to dress for a funeral, darling," Alastor sneered spitefully and proudly, practically sashaying his hips.

As they passed the frozen band, Alastor leaned in, eyes aglow and absolutely mischievous.

"A live band! Good to see there's some good taste. But not a single trumpet? That's not jazz, my dear, let me help along~" he taunted, and with a snap, summoned a few extra band members brandishing instruments to round out the band. Enjoy your new creepy, poppet-like companions! They absolutely lead into a more thrilling tune, stealing the show.

As they moved, partygoers moved aside. But some of the Goetia were sneering. A few months with his Sinner-loving daughter, and the King snatches up the worst one for his own, is it? What's the angle?

The band drew back, alarmed from the presence. They jumped from the appearance of the poppets. For a few bars, it was just these newcomers that began their tune, filling the tense silence with something different.

It was the more nervous band members, ironically, that joined in. Perhaps it was because they feared retaliation. But soon, the music started back up again, a whole new flavor. Little imps holding trays, swiftly circling to avoid being underfoot, helped keep the drinks flowing again.

"No bubbly for me," Lucifer murmured to one, who canted her head before she turned to offer to the... um... paramour?

"Thank you, sweetheart!" Alastor took it with a chuckle, taking the little imp's hand and spinning her for a dance. "Have a little dance on your break, darlin', life's far too short!"

Once letting go, the imp would find a neatly folded bill she could hide away in her pocket - Alastor knew these damn beastly demons wouldn't bother paying their 'lessers' properly, much less one of the fairer sex like this young lady.

"Now! Let's go bid welcome to our esteemed host," Alastor announced, leaning cutely against his strong-shouldered, handsome king. Didn't he just make the perfect eye candy~?

That was going to be a Hell of a story that none of her friends would ever believe her in.

Regardless, he was right on the money: Very few attendants were ever paid properly, and there were a number who just weren't paid at all, powerless to resign for fear of punishment.

With a nod, the king led his beloved husband who was effortlessly grabbing all the attention. Lucifer had to bite his cheek to keep from snickering... he was being ridiculous.

Their host for the evening was a well-dressed demon resembling a camel, bearing a fair date on each arm and laughing away from some joke that had just been overheard. The ladies at his side quieted with the approach of the two newcomers.

But this demon brightened. "Ah! I'd hoped I would be lucky enough to get an answer from you, Your Highness. Welcome!"

"Thank you for the invitation, Duke Vual. Certainly you know of my husband, Alastor?" Said so easily, so breezily, that H-word.

"Hahaha- Who doesn't?? The notorious Radio Demon in the flesh... how the fuck did THAT happen, gentlemen?"

"That is for us to know~" Alastor's smile tightened a bit before he laughed, sashaying his hip and flopping his hand dismissively. "But please, do guess! The rumors and speculation are the only good parts of the morning funnies, hahah!"

Alastor felt light on his feet as he assessed this fellow. A Duke... stronger by quite a margin than he was on his own. Openly adorning himself with women, so unphased by any accusations of adultery. Stunning eyelash game.

He'll figure out the softest spot on your belly, Vual. Just you wait.

He smiled his amusement. Didn't peg him for a newspaper comic sort, but oh how right he was... most of them are complete shit.

The duke chuckled. By now, the party had only just started slowly restarting. With the host as the focus, the rest could shuffle off and try to shake off their own respective nerves.

"A whirlwind courtship, for sure! Not even a peep of it for miles, and no news of a big, grand ceremony to boot. I would have loved to meet the soul who'd officiate!"

"Surely you're not hinting to any level of shame, are you...?" Lucifer asked evenly, the smile tight on his face.

"Not at all, not at all! Why, your wedding to the queen was straight out of a faerie tale... I thought your next would have been just as big, if not bigger! The people would have loved to hear that their king had moved on, after all..." The demon chuckled, while the girls leaned upon him and returned to their drinks.

"Yep, well- that's what that old press conference was for. Sorry you missed it." Keeping things casual, he polished his claws on his scarf.

The duke's grin widened, but the eyes narrowed a bit. "...I see. Congratulations to you and the Prince Consort. May you have many happy years together."

POP. The radio crackle is a slip from Alastor - he laughed, but it's a tight laugh, and he put a hand to his chest coquettishly.

"Prince consort! Such a long winded title. I imagine we do more than simply consort, don't you, Ma chère?" Alastor pulled out his proper French accent, leaning down to press a kiss to Lucifer's temple. "Why, I'd gladly be your Queen. That's far more fitting."

And would make plenty of hubbub that he picked that and not King to make such a petty statement stick.

Vual flicked an ear at the pop, but only peered through such luxurious lashes toward Alastor.

Lucifer, meanwhile, shot him a concerned look before he was pulled in for the smooch. What was going on...? Was he okay? "Ah- yes, we- we do..."

Vual chuckled and shrugged. "Just how it is! You'll get used to titles like that and all the other complicated ones now that you're higher up the ladder. Please, enjoy yourselves! It's not every day I open up my personal wine cellars... is it, loves?"

The girls giggled, but one's was a little half-hearted. She was clocking some truly unsettling vibes from Alastor and was putting more of her lord's body between her and all that.

"...We should do just that, shouldn't we, deer?" Lucifer added quietly, and touched the small of Alastor's back. Don't let these people get to you. They're all like this.

Oh, don't you worry about him. Despite the pop of anger, Alastor was getting easily carried away, pride swelling. Queen Alastor, he'll wear that title with every ounce of spite and pride and joy he had in him!

"Why, with the spirits out and good tunes playing, I say we cut a rug on the dance floor, bring a little more liveliness to everyone's step!" Alastor announced, taking his king's hands and pulling him away. Oh, he'd absolutely sabotage and rescue this boring old ritz into something properly jazz era.

The few Goetia that were already starting to curiously join the band's tempo in their dance were going to be stored in Alastor's mind for later - not at all beyond redemption. HAH.

Well, well... Charlie was right. Redemption did seem possible, eh?

Pulled away, he chuckled. "Make them feel like they've got two left hooves and haven't danced a day in their lives, huh? I'm in."

At least. He hoped he was. But he'd been on a good streak lately, acclimated. He was in his LANE!!

"Don't forget our dance in the bayou, sha, you can always lean on me~" Alastor hinted - if he could dance and belt out singing with the festering wound that Adam gave him, then for the sake of Lucifer maintaining dignity whilst showing these old fuddy-duddies what for, he could take the pain and unease just fine.

"Trust me~"

He'd never let Lucifer take a spill during a dance.

"Hit it, boys!"

With a snap, Alastor's minions blared the trumpets even louder, completely commanding the scene. Who's party was this? Who cares! It's Alastor's and Lucifer's, now!

He waved a hand a little. "You know I do, but- Please. I can keep up with you."

With the cue, Lucifer carelessly flicked his hat off of his head and let it vanish. It'd been a little bit since he'd had quite a rigorous dance, but by all accounts, nobody would really notice.

He was stubborn. When he started things off, he looked for all the world like he'd just done dancing yesterday and had hopped upon the opportunity, stepping light and claiming a good section of the dance floor.

Perfect! Even if Lucifer was pregnant, and had most of his days a bit achy and queasy, that didn't mean there wasn't still the energy in him to dance a proper jig! Why, he saw quite a few ladies go a little wild at the speakeasies away from their controlling husbands.

So Alastor wasn't really worried one bit - just no grabbing and tossing, and he'll play the part of following Lucifer's lead, letting his husband dip him and toss him. It would be a few months more before he needed to watch how much he was lifting, after all.

Perhaps he shouldn't be lifting and tossing, but in all honesty how much did Alastor weigh, and did that apply to otherworldly creatures with superhuman strength?

But this was also pride. He could carry a fawn AND the fawn's father, couldn't he? His... queen? Did he really want to be called that, or was that a joke? Eh, ask later-

Oh, did his body protest a little. The aches were reminding him of themselves every time he bent, every time his arms lifted past the chest level. With his outfit chosen to mask his bump, he was heating up a little, but the bead of sweat at the brow would just be chalked up to how intensely he had focused.

He still blew an appreciative and rowdy whistle for Goetia couples that decided to cut a fucking rug- gotta gas up the demons that were actually trying!- But he made a show of taking a few and twirling them away to their partners before moving to his own, adding the others on the floor to the mesh of festivity. It was enough to coax a few of the hesitant to gradually join in.

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