Chapter Text
The swamp was dark and humid, making Lucifer’s coat cling to his skin uncomfortably. He began to regret his decision to seek out Alastor in his room. Charlie had been worried, and he’d volunteered to find the radio demon, if just to put her mind at ease.
He didn’t imagine he’d have to play hide n’ seek in a magical swamp tucked away in the man’s room, but here he was. Lucifer had seen this part of his room before, but he distinctly remembered it being more blue the last time. Currently, it was bathed in greys and a sickly yellow-green tint.
He’d also recalled more noise, crickets, frogs, birds, and other assorted creatures of the night, but it was silent. Just the wind in the trees, branches cracking and swaying. The ripples of running water, dark shapes moving deep inside.
As he ventured deeper, the moon became more obscured by clouds, and the yellow grew brighter, more toxic, more unnatural.
“Alastor?” He called out, not for the first time, “Charlie’s worried about you, she, uh, hasn’t seen you in a few days.” He hesitated, looking around. He couldn’t see anyone, but he knew he was being watched. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, and then I’ll go, okay?”
He was the king of hell, why was he scared? He had incredible power, there was nothing Alastor could do to hurt him, not really, right? Sure he seemed to have some kind of power tied to a god of another name, but he was Lucifer Morningstar.
So why did he feel like he wouldn’t be able to leave without permission?
“Come on, Red, you’ve had your fun. Stop hiding.” He kept the fear out of his voice, but somehow, he knew that he knew.
He continued deeper into the swamp.
The farther in he went, the more life there seemed to be. Near the room, it was sparse, just a few trees, maybe a shrub or two. But here, deep inside, there were a plethora of plants, cattails, duckweed, rose bushes with blood red blooms, lilies of that sickly yellow color, and moss, all seeming to glow in the dark. All beautiful, yet twisted, dangerous and sick.
The bits of land between the water grew thinner, and the trees grew denser, making it hard to move forward, and if he turned back, he seemed to lose all direction.
He was lost in a garden of neon, haunting flora.
He kept forcing his way through, tearing his clothes on thorns, determined to find Alastor or the exit.
The trees began to thin once again, and he began to hope that he’d made his way back, only to have it fade.
He was at the edge of a clearing, and in the middle, curled up in his shadows, was Alastor. He looked terrible, more gaunt than usual. He appeared to be asleep, his breathing shallow.
All at once, the feeling of danger, of being watched from the shadows, disappeared.
The shadows instead felt vulnerable, afraid of him. He got the distinct feeling he wasn’t supposed to be here, to see this. But Charlie had been so worried, and he’d do anything for his daughter.
He should go, he should leave. He’d found him, and he was alive. He should leave.
But what if he’s hurt? He looks sick.
His bleeding heart couldn’t just leave him here, not without checking on him first.
He moved closer, reaching out, golden light filling his hands.
The shadows flared, and he was bathed in fear that was not his own. The swamp was screaming, intruder, danger.
Alastor’s eyes snapped open, his grin stretching wickedly as he rose from the shadows like a blossoming flower. His form twisted, his limbs stretching and his claws growing longer, like daggers, like swords. His grin glowed, drowning out the light in all else.
Dread washed over Lucifer. He distinctly felt like he’d just made a huge mistake.
“Heyyyyy buddy! I was just checking in on you! Charlie was-” He scrambled to placate the demon before him, sweating.
“You should not be here.”
This was not the Alastor that strode around the hotel with confidence and a mask so friendly you’d forget who he was.
Shit.
He’d just walked into the lair of a cannibalistic serial killer, went where he was certainly not allowed, and woke him.
“I can go-”
Alastor tilted his head, the crackle of feedback building.
“No. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
Shadows crept around him, and Lucifer started to take steps backward.
“I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want.” His eyes trailed down Alastor’s slender, sinewy form, taking note of the gash on his abdomen, dripping with black poison. He strengthened the magic in his hands, reminding the demon of who he was talking to.
“Ha! Like you have any real power here, your majesty.” Alastor’s voice rang out, echoing in the dark. “This is no longer your domain, it’s mine.” As he spoke, the shadows and trees warped and grew. Eyes began to peer from the dark, menacing lights among the vibrant blooms.
Lucifer gritted his teeth, feeling trapped and increasingly frustrated. “Listen pal, I’m the king of hell, everywhere down here is my domain.”
Wasn’t it? The voice of doubt that always sat in the back of his mind was louder, here, and seemed to hold more power over him.
The light in his hands began to flicker.
“Whatever made you think we were still in hell?”
Lucifer felt his heart drop to his feet.
The grin stretched impossibly larger.
The tentacles coiled around Lucifer's legs, slowly creeping up towards his abdomen. He felt exposed, vulnerable, dominated.
Something burned inside him, amid the fear.
Something he hadn’t felt since Lilith.
Bound and submissive, he’d been her plaything. Now, he was Alastor's doll to invite torment and punishment.
And he would let him.
He looked up at Alastor, who loomed over him, his eyes dark and devoid of empathy. His smile was a constant, but he could feel the satisfaction he felt at holding him captive. Lucifer tried to force the thoughts out of his head.
Alastor is going to kill you, be afraid, you idiot, not horny!
He swallowed thickly, mouth dry. Glancing back down at the void of a wound. “Looks like Adam got a hit on you,” he was desperate to distract him, “That’s not heal-”
Alastor recoiled at the words, furious, “I came here to rest, to heal! If you were so concerned, you should have let me sleep!”
“I can heal you-”
A tendril of shadow wrapped around his mouth, silencing him. His arousal swelled, his dick throbbing, restrained in his pants.
Alastor leaned closer, grabbing his face with his talons, lifting his chin to better meet his eyes. “You think I don’t know what you’re capable of? Of course you could heal me. But I do not trust you. I could reveal my weakness to you, and you could exploit it, like everyone down here always does.” He gripped his face tighter, drawing blood. “But perhaps you could still be of service,” He brought his hand to his mouth, carefully licking the golden ichor from it. “I’ve been unable to hunt for some time now, I haven’t eaten in days.”
Oh.
The realization that Alastor was going to eat him sent a wave of heat crashing through his body. Did he want to be eaten alive? No, not really, but was it hot? Absolutely.
The tendril keeping his mouth shut tilted his head, exposing his neck.
Without hesitating, Alastor bit down, and Lucifer winced slightly at the sting of his sharp teeth. The pain mixed with pleasure as he felt him suck on his neck, drinking deeply, tongue pressing and swirling.
Lucifer fought back a moan, palming his erection, giving in to his need for friction. He was aware of the radio demon's displeasure for things of a sexual nature, and knew he'd be torn to shreds, but this was so hot. He'd let Alastor destroy him, and savour every moment of it.
He'd regenerate eventually, so it's not like there were any real consequences.
The shadowy tendrils seemed to sense his movement and wrapped around his wrist, pulling it around and pinning it to his back with the other.
He was on his knees, bound and gagged, and Alastor didn't even have to decency to fuck him.
Unable to withstand the arousal, Lucifer let out a whine, and Alastor’s ears swiveled towards him. The demon unlatched himself from his neck and pulled back, strings of golden drool keeping them connected.
Alastor ran his tongue across his teeth and around his mouth, unwilling to waste a single drop. He pulled back, looking at him as his eyes seemed to clear and his hunger faded.
Finally, Alastor seemed to register his captive’s… desire… and recoiled in displeasure and disgust.
Without hesitating, he raised Lucifer into the air with his shadows, and threw him backwards.
He soared through open air before landing hard on his side, sliding across hardwood as he slid through a doorway.
He turned his head to get one last look at the radio demon, alone in his swamp, before the door slammed shut.
He watched as letters, the same sickly yellow as the swamp, carved themselves in the wood as if by an unseen claw.
KEEP OUT
A mixture of relief and disappointment washed over him. He lay there, in the hallway outside Alastor’s room, and waited for the feeling of lust to fade.
It remained. Even as his erection flagged and his pulse slowed, the desire remained.
I’m so fucked.