Archive of Our Own ^beta

He has been feeling decisively off for the better part of the week. So easily irritable and on edge, as if suddenly every tiny interaction with the world outside of his hotel suite was too much. His senses heightened so significantly that doing as much as taking a deeper breath out there was giving him a nauseating feeling down in his guts, making him realize how much Hell stinks, now more than ever before. 

Alastor is definitely not a novice when it comes to various types of odors. His particular tastes, be it from before his death or after he has been reborn as a demon in Hell, have long secured that. Being a murderer and a cannibal doesn’t bring a lot of nice scents to the table or at least not in the traditional sense of understanding but the distinct stench of blood and raw meat is something which has never bothered him in his entire life and afterlife combined. He is used to cleaning up his own mess and doesn’t mind getting dirty while doing so but that’s a very different kind of stench that’s been bothering him lately. 

It’s overwhelming and musky, coming from all around him and making him dizzy, messing with his perception of reality and giving him a headache as soon as he leaves the safe haven of the bayou corner of his room. 

His hearing also has sharpened rather rapidly in the recent days which makes the regular stroll down the streets of Hell nearly unbearable, with loud it has become, hurting his ears and giving him a migraine wherever he spends out there more than half an hour. 

His eyesight, even if not very keen to begin with, has become much better too, making him able to notice the details that were lost to him before. His eye accommodation sharpened, making him able to focus better even on the objects far away, giving him some blinding clarity that has been lost to him for nearly all of his human and demon years so far. 

This should have been an improvement, making him all the more aware of what’s happening all around him but all it brings him is discomfort and constant annoyance because suddenly it’s too loud, too bright and too fucking smelly, making him nearly gag whenever someone approached too close. 

He’s not even able to lead his broadcast anymore because even the buzzing and quiet occasional screech of his microphone quickly becomes too much, making his irritation skyrocket because suddenly he can’t seem to function normally and this is becoming a problem. He thought that it would pass with time, this strange ailment of his, but it only seems to get worse with every passing day, with no real hope of improving on its own. 

When he wrinkles his nose for the hundredth time during his regular meeting with Rosie in the Cannibal Town, not even trying to listen to what she’s saying, she finally raises the issue. 

“Are you feeling alright, Al…?” She asks with an arched brow, sipping her tea calmly and knowing the answer already without him ever using the words. He’s been jumpy and nervous since the moment he sat in front of her at their usual table, squinting his eyes weirdly and gritting his teeth in the smile so wide that it nearly rips at his cheeks. His heel is tapping against the pavement impatiently, the faint static buzzes steadily around his head much louder than usually and his breath comes out in short, forced huffs, easily giving away that something is bothering him. 

This is not how Alastor behaves in public. 

No matter how large his discomfort might be, he never shows any weaknesses, knowing well that Hell easily fishes them out and immediately takes advantage of them, having exactly zero mercy and understanding for anyone’s vulnerability. The fact that he’s so poorly masking his own now only proves that whatever is happening to him, is a much bigger issue than anything out of his usual list of problems. 

Al lets out a small screech as he clenches his fingers around his knee, trying to relax a bit against the back of his armchair and calm down his breath. “… just peachy…,” he mutters in a voice distorted by static, sounding foreign and weird. 

Rosie only widens her smirk, showing off her sharp teeth. “That’s honestly the last thing I would call it,” she says in mild interest, reaching out for a baked finger, their mutual favorite treat out of the box that she’s saved specifically for their meeting. Alastor hasn’t even touched one since the moment they took their places which in itself is unnatural. 

“Just having a rough day, is all,” he drawls through set teeth but the dark circles under his eyes seem way more distinct than usually which suggests that it’s not just a random rough day as he called it. His cheeks seem a bit hollow too, his shirt and jacket hang loosely around his collarbones and his palm is lightly shaking, betraying that he must have been on edge for many past days and haven’t been eating well either since he clearly lost a bit of his weight. With how slender he is, it’s even more noticeable now. 

“More like a rough week,” Rosie presses, knowing well that Alastor rarely shares what weighs on his mind, especially if it means admitting to some discomfort. She likes to try anyway. 

Al’s brows frown even deeper as a corner of his lips twitches in barely hidden annoyance. 

“It’s none of your business,” he barks inelegantly, far from his usual politeness, especially towards women. 

“You’re right, it’s not,” Rosie shrugs, crunching quietly the baked finger. “For now. It will become my business when you explode in my Emporium, though,” she says, observing closely the way Al’s ears twitch and his antlers grow out with a few sparks dancing over them. “You resemble a ticking bomb today and I kind of like my source of income.”

Alastor makes an illegible sound as he digs his sharp claws into the armrests. The silence following Rosie’s words prolongs and she’s slowly losing hope that he will share anything more when suddenly he opens his lips again, letting out a blend of barely illegible words. 

“It’s just been so loud around recently,” he hisses out, pulling his ears back angrily. “And so bright, hurts my eyes so bad,” he slowly opens his eyes which got a darker hue, flashing in radio dials. “And the stench of this place,” he spats out in clear disgust, nearly turning green on his face when some cannibal demon passes them by, completely unaware of the death glare Al sends him. “Just horrendous. I can’t believe I never noticed… everything stinks in this goddamn city,” he huffs, swallowing the bitterness on his tongue. “And I don’t mean the usual depravity and rot of it… I mean the fucking people. Demonkind has a worse odor than the worst stench of the rotten meat. I can’t stand it and it fucking bombards me from all around, making me want to puke whenever I as much as leave my hotel room, taking all of my appetite away,” he grimaces, looking over his untouched coffee and the baked fingers. “Makes me fucking itchy and yet I can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard I scratch.”

The air around him gradually darkens, easily betraying his dark state of mind and the simmering anger, seemingly without a clear source. This wouldn’t make much sense if only Rosie wasn’t observant enough, with a sharp eye and the ability to quickly connect the dots. 

Her smirk sharpens as she finds it more amusing than it’s appropriate, especially considering how awful Alastor currently feels. 

“Well, this is unheard of,” she says eventually, clearly enjoying herself which annoys Al even further. Were it literally anyone else, he would have most likely already lash out at them. 

Alastor’s mind screeches when some sweet, nauseating scent comes to his nose, making his insides turn, his senses so heightened that it hurts and quickly puts him in the mood for some genocide. 

“Care to elaborate, Rosie…?” He hisses, touching lightly his temple and closing his eyes briefly again. 

“Quite unusual, really,” she grins, playing with a baked finger in her hand, as if toying with Alastor while he’s so obviously on edge brought her some immoral amounts of entertainment. “How long has it been since you died, dear…?” She asks in an innocent voice, eyeing closely the way Al’s nose wrinkles further and he clicks his tongue, certainly not appreciating her teasing but knowing her well enough to realize that no matter what he might do, he won’t intimidate her. 

“It’s been roughly a century already. Ninety two years if we’re talking exact numbers,” he lets out a long breath which turns nearly into a guttural bleat by the end. “Why…?” He looks her up and down suspiciously, clearly seeing that she knows something that he doesn’t and enjoys that fact so impossibly much. 

“Hmm, it’s a long period of time indeed…,” she purrs, tilting her head to the side in obvious glee the more annoyed he becomes. “Usually this kind of thing happens soon after coming down here. The very structure of Hell’s society is based upon it, after all.”

The way she chooses her words makes Alastor slowly realize already what she’s implying here but his heavily dazed mind doesn’t let him process the information properly just yet. 

“Then again perhaps you are a little late bloomer here, Al…,” she lets out a chuckle when his eyes flash in unhidden annoyance at her clear mockery here. 

“Meaning…?” He snaps, dragging his claws along the armrests and destroying the leather. 

“You owe me a new armchair now,” she says, quite unbothered that she has a furious, fearsome Radio Demon by her side and all of his anger is currently focused on her. 

“Rosie…!”

“Fine, fine…,” she shrugs, rolling her eyes, thinking that while Alastor is a perfect partner to make fun of other demons with, he becomes terrible when it’s him at the end of the joke. “What I mean is that you’re going through some very special experience now, Al. Possibly a life-changing one,” she grins over her tea, teasing a tiny bit more because it’s so easy to rile him up if only one skillfully attempts it. 

“Like what…?” He barks, slowly losing control over his powers as their table shakes dangerously. 

Rosie ignores that, knowing that for his current state he’s holding on well enough. Her voice drops an octave lower, though, turning into a conspiring whisper as if she was telling him the grandest secret of all time. 

“Like presenting,” she says, sipping her tea and completely ignoring the way Alastor nearly overheats by now by her side. 

“What…!?” He growls as his antlers grow out rapidly and his silhouette wavers, nearly letting out his giant, demon form. He’s biting into his bottom lip so harshly that it bleeds, the red hot blood flows down his chin, giving him a crazed look as his eyes nearly fall out of their orbits. 

Rosie only hums at that with this infuriating, knowing smirk of hers. “Think about it, Al… the hypersensitivity to light, noise and smell… the discomfort and baseless rage… this agitation, for lack of a better word, that doesn’t let you sleep well at night. Everything suddenly feels like it’s too much, doesn’t it?” She leans her cheek against the palm of her hand, scanning closely the whole range of different emotions passing through his face that finally, unsurprisingly, settles on anger. 

“I don’t think—“

“Being a Beta, you wouldn’t have ever noticed,” Rosie interrupts him quickly, seeing how much he wants to deny her theory already. “It doesn’t differ much from being a regular human, after all—“

“How would you know, you are a Beta yourself!” He barks, set on not letting this preposterous thought slip into his mind and cause there even more chaos than it already has. 

“Hmm, true that,” she agrees easily, playing with a tea spoon in her cup. “I have been here long enough, though, to more or less understand and recognize the symptoms of the upcoming presentation. I suppose I should congratulate you too since it very much seems you’re going to join the Alpha rank,” she smirks in a menacing way, looking straight into his eyes as she continues. “Can’t say I would have expected that to happen but I guess you are still so full of surprises, Alastor.”

Her words lighten up his rage again as he bleats at her in the deep, threatening manner, certainly not happy about her opinion here. 

“What the fuck does it mean…?” He hisses, feeling the overwhelming pain hammering right beneath his skull and making him feral, hungry for blood and for something else that he doesn’t exactly understand besides the fact that the feeling is slowly driving him insane. 

“Let’s just say that it’s not the dynamic that I would associate with you, dear friend,” she ignores the fact that they start attracting attention, silently grateful that they are outside and not within the building’s walls because Alastor surely looks ready to blow out any moment now. His lack of understanding of his own emotions and the processes that currently dominate his mind and body is amusing, though, considering how dense he is when it comes to any physical aspects of his condition. 

All in all she kind of feels for him deep down, despite the amusing afternoon he provided her. She’s not kind enough to help him through it, though. They might be long term friends but there are some clear boundaries between them that she isn’t keen on crossing, even for Alastor. 

“Perhaps it’s for the best, though,” she says suddenly as she watches over the fire burning in Al’s eyes, wild and confused at the same time. “Being an Omega isn’t the easiest thing down here.”

Alastor scoffs at that as he rapidly stands up, nearly turning over their table. “Your theories are ridiculous, Rosie dear,” he drawls through set teeth, his voice barely understandable yet with how distorted it is, more resembling an animal than a coherent demon. “As if anything like that ever happened to me—“

“Go home, Al,” she tells him, looking at him with pity hiding in the corner of her eyes, knowing well that this experience won’t be pleasant for someone like Alastor in particular. She can only hope that he comes back to the Hotel without hurting anyone or himself. “You should be safe in your own room.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” He barks, not really controlling what he’s saying anymore, just so overly annoyed that anyone has the nerve to command him in any way. 

“I wonder what induced that unexpected change, though…,” she ignores his mindless rudeness, finding it quite fascinating that after nearly a hundred years of being a Beta, a regular demon without that animalistic pull of the wild that other secondary genders are cursed with, something suddenly triggered such a significant shift in him. It’s almost as if he felt threatened in some way— “Oh!” She gasps as it finally clicks, clapping her hands in glee as she looks over Al’s fuming silhouette. “I believe His Majesty has finally moved into the Hotel, a few weeks back, hasn’t he…?” She asks in a sweet tone, knowing well that mentioning Lucifer in any way will anger him additionally but having a very strong feeling that she’s onto something here. 

She definitely isn’t wrong about making Al even more mad. 

“What does that annoying shorty have to do with anything…?” He barks, clenching his hands in fists and effectively discouraging anyone from coming closer to the Emporium. 

Rosie grins so widely that it’s a miracle that the corners of her lips don’t rip. “I’ll let you figure it out at your own pace, Al,” she coos in a way that definitely doesn’t placate him but brings a ton of joy to her. After all, having such a powerful Alpha under the same roof who happens to be the King at that must have been threatening enough to Alastor to wake up the more primal instincts in him to assert his own authority, as adorable at it seems. 

If there is one thing that Alastor craves more than entertainment it’s influence and power. Before Lucifer marching into the Hotel like he owned the place (which he kind of does, much like the whole Hell), he was decisively not worried about his position there, even if being a Beta didn’t provide him that natural dominance over the rest of the residents. However, with someone like Lucifer, much more powerful than anyone else in Hell and the Alpha at that, despite his peculiarities and a short height, he surely felt that his position was in danger which must have triggered the rapid change in his physiology, trying so hard not to fall lower in the hierarchy of power. A funny thought, considering that no sinner could ever possibly become more powerful than the Devil in flesh. 

Rosie knows that well, aware of her limitations as a Beta demon but seeing Alastor struggling to keep his position, even if Lucifer has never really seen any competition in him in that regard, apart from the relations with his daughter, is quite interesting and she is definitely going to keep an eye on the upcoming events because it very much seems that Alastor is about to enter his first ever rut season, as improbable as it still seems to her. 

For now, though, she’s much more interested in business and Al’s agitation is slowly becoming decisively harmful to it. 

“You should really leave already, Al,” she hastens him, barely keeping herself from shooing him away. “You’re scaring away my clients.”

Alastor shoots her an annoyed glance but obliges, feeling too close to exploding and too full of unnecessary information.

Normally he would never leave without saying goodbye but in his current situation it’s the last thing he has on mind. The dark vibes that he gives off effectively make anyone leave him be, parting before him, no matter their secondary gender. 

Alastor has never paid any attention to this fact but now he can clearly estimate who’s who simply by looking at them or just smelling their scent which makes his head dizzy and overwhelmed because it’s just so much stimulation from all around that he honestly cannot imagine how other Alphas and Omegas are even able to exist in such circumstances. He’s already nearly driven mad by all the stench around, missing sorely the times when he was normal. 

Even if what Rosie said is true, he can’t really get the appeal. He can easily smell anyone who’s not wearing any scent blockers and those few Omegas that he passed by didn’t seem even remotely appealing to him, only intensifying his overall nausea and dizziness. The sole thought that he might want to have anything to do with any of them makes his stomach turn a few times over as he growls in disgust, putting up the collar of his shirt and trying to control his own scent glands, inactive for years until now apparently when they start to itch as his scent intensifies, much to his own dismay. 

Alphas seem much more threatening, like the irritating pests somewhere in the back of his mind and perhaps in any other circumstances he would be tempted to pick up a fight or two, no matter how absolutely preposterous it is, but as it is now, all he craves is to finally come back to the blessed quietness of his bayou, far away from all the noise and all the unnecessary stimuli that currently fry his senses. 

His head already feels like breaking, overstimulated and overwhelmed and he thinks that if this is truly how others feel while the mating season hits, he will do anything in his power to suppress this and every other one that might come his way in the future. The sole thought gives him chills even if supposedly being an Alpha is a big advantage over the better part of the society. 

In all honesty, Alastor would prefer staying in his right mind, being a calm and calculating Beta than a feral Alpha who’s ruled by their most primal instincts. 

His own scent bothers him as well, all too new to his sharpened senses, all too heavy to his sensitive nose, making him flinch in disgust. He cannot tell exactly what it smells like but its sole detectable presence exhausts him enough. He presses the collar of his shirt tightly against the sides of his neck, hoping that no one else can feel it as clearly as he hurries to the only safe place in the entire Hell that his bayou is. 

His silhouette gets distorted by his own shadow, going feral behind his back as it’s being dragged forcefully after him, baring its sharp teeth at anyone who stares a second too long. The voices all around make a cacophony of noises that hammers beneath his skull, making him bleat furiously as he turns over a street lamp, pushing it out of his way and effectively ruining a shop window or two. He leaves a path of destruction behind but no one is brave enough to actually stand in his way and stop him, easily scared away by the mad look of his feverish eyes. 

He swings the gates of the Hazbin Hotel open, finally having had enough as his voice screeches loud enough to shatter glass, reverberating inside the lobby and startling everyone around. 

“Shut the fuck up…!” He yells in blind fury as his antlers grow out rapidly and the menacing voodoo signs sparkle around his head in the air. 

His unexpected burst does indeed stop any minor conversation taking place on the ground floor of the hotel as it suddenly becomes eerily silent when every present demon looks over him with shocked expression. He must look unhinged and outright crazy but he can’t find it in himself to care anymore as he only growls and marches through the hall and lobby, straight to the staircase, quickly disappearing on the upper floors and leaving everyone startled and shaken. 

“…what the fuck was that…?” Vaggie manages out, looking unsurely over the rest of the present residents, all equally shocked. 

“This screech broke my fucking glass,” Husk mutters under his breath behind the bar counter, looking over the wet fur of his hand and the shards at his feet. 

Angel only raises a brow, scrolling lazily over the feed of his socials and being the only one who seems relatively unbothered by Alastor’s weird behavior. He maintains the smirk all over his face, despite feeling the hairs on the back of his neck bristle, being probably the only one who has realized more or less what this all was about. For better or for worse, he is kind of used to such outbursts which he may not be proud about but this little detail will not be shared with the rest of the crowd. 

“Looks like someone has jus’ found out that he ain’t a Beta, after all,” he says, leaning against the cushions and slowly looking over his cell phone. “What? Tell me it didn’t look like a fuckin’ pre-rut rage takin’ over his senses, he was nearly completely out of it already!” He shrugs, barely keeping his laugher in as he sees how green on his face Husk and Charlie turn but for completely different reasons. 

“Is that even possible…?” She asks, looking over Vaggie with worry. “He’s been down here for nearly a century. Demons don’t present after such a long time.”

“Fuck if I know,” Angel Dust shrugs again, pretending to be uninterested but truth is, he’s quite invested already. Especially that Alastor has never struck him as an Alpha material in the first place and he has a good nose for things like this. “As unbelievable as it still seems to me, our Strawberry Pimp might be slowly turnin’ into an Alpha as we speak. Lord, have mercy on this building—“

“Is he going to be okay…?” Charlie whispers, biting on her nails like nearly every time in a stressful situation. 

“Who is…?” 

Suddenly the magical portal opens up in the middle of the parlor and Lucifer in person comes out of it, looking a bit disheveled, after a long day of the court hearings that drained him of the most of his energy. He plays with his apple cane as he steps into the dim light of the room, looking over the clearly distressed demons, his daughter among them. 

“Alastor,” she says quickly, looking over the staircase where he disappeared only minutes ago. Lucifer’s interest clearly wavers but she continues anyway. “He’s just barged into the lobby, looking like an embodiment of rage, nearly sending the door flying, screeching so loudly that he almost shattered the window panes,” she explains hurriedly, looking like a bundle of frayed nerves already as she pulls her knees up to her chest on the sofa. “I’m worried about him,” she admits. “He didn’t seem fine but I don’t want to seem too pushy—“

Lucifer sighs deeply, seeing how important it is to her and being well aware than no one else here will volunteer anyway. 

“Wanna have me check on him?” He asks in a resigned tone, honestly having prayed for one calm afternoon instead of dealing with the annoying freaky faced demon. 

“Can you do that…?” Charlie asks with hope in her eyes sparkling in the dim lights. 

Lucifer very much can. If he wants to is another thing but then again if it’s for his princess, he is ready to do just about anything. Even sacrificing his relaxing afternoon with a glass of gin for seeing that whatever Alastor has gotten himself into this time won’t bring any permanent damage to any of them. 

“I mean, I could try to make him see reason at least,” he mutters, adjusting his hat atop his head, trying not to sound overly disappointed that this is what he has to take care of during his free time. Some pompous asshole who managed to make his daughter worry again. The way she looks at him makes it impossible to refuse, though. 

“Hah, good luck with that,” Angel murmurs over the phone in his hand, making Lucifer arch a brow, especially when he sees the way Charlie’s smile turns flustered. 

“Well, you see—“

“C’mon, don’t spoil all the fun, Charlie,” Angel grins in a menacing way, looking over Lucifer from behind his fringe. “This might be quite a challenge this time, after all.”

“What do you mean, a challenge,” Lucifer puffs up his chest proudly to seem bigger than he really is, undoubtedly, giving more of an impression of a bird bristling its feathers than a fearsome King, especially with that pout all over his face. “Do you suggest that I can’t put one cheeky demon into his place—“

Angel’s inelegant snort interrupts him as he looks over him with a frown, not understating what’s so funny about it. 

“What a great choice of words that is!” Angel nearly cries at this point, wiping off a single tear from below his eye. “Ah, forgive me, Yer Majesty but it’s been so long since I’ve had such a good laugh.”

Lucifer still doesn’t understand but it doesn’t seem like anyone here is keen on explaining the source of Angel’s clear amusement besides the obvious connection that it has to the one Radio Demon aka the bane of Lucifer’s current existence. 

It’s not like it matters, though because he is absolutely sure that no matter what trouble Alastor has caused this time, there is no way he couldn’t set him straight one way or another. 

Since the moment he moved into the rebuilt Hotel there wasn’t a day he and Alastor wouldn’t throw a snarky comment one another’s way each time they crossed paths. And that would be a lot because living under the same roof and not running into each other from time to time is simply impossible. Lucifer sometimes thinks that it must be some part of his eternal punishment, that very demon, always smirking so widely and having it way too easy to camouflage insults under the tone of absolute politeness and respect with that cheeky wide smile and unreadable eyes.  The fact that it’s him he has to babysit today again doesn’t surprise him in the slightest at this point. Karma is a bitch that forces him now regularly to keep another bitch under control. 

“I will see whatever chaos he’s managed to create this time around,” he sighs only, thinking that understanding Angel is way too much effort anyway. There is surely nothing complicated about making Alastor cease whatever drama he’s living through currently and as such he is determined to make it quick and have that glass of gin with everyone down here before they decide to leave the parlor to their own late evening agendas. He profusely ignores Angel’s very inappropriate way of wishing him good luck again with that special lilt of his tone that usually irritates him as he makes a flick of his cane, creating another portal and with a swish of his jacket he disappears in it with a small hiss, leaving them alone in the parlor again. 

The silence lasts for exactly five more seconds before Angel Dust speaks up again, being way too amused than anyone else and giving Charlie even more anxiety instead of trying to keep her spirits up. 

“Well, it seems we’re gonna be extremely lucky if this place survives somehow now,” he comments, making such a dire prediction all the while enjoying himself immorally much. 

And Charlie, even though, she doesn’t exactly voice it out, silently agrees, giving a long groan and hiding her face in her palms, praying that for once her father and Alastor will behave like adults are supposed to. 

***

The moment the door to his room closes behind him and all the noises and stenches disappear, his overstimulated brain finally has a small chance to rest. The overall discomfort that he feels doesn’t disappear but at least his senses aren’t bombarded so much anymore, making it possible to catch a deeper breath at last, without any worry that he might throw up the full content of his stomach. 

The smell around is familiar and calming, amplified but all in all putting his mind at ease as he walks down the carpet, kicking off his shoes and shaking off his jacket until he finally feels the softness of the grass in his bayou, the only part of Hell that he currently wants to be, surrounded by the scent of dampness and rich vegetation and enveloped in the soothing sounds of the nature all around. 

It doesn’t matter that it’s all just a creation, an impression of the real thing, artificial. Alastor has made it all himself, drowning in the memories of these few precious moments of his human life that are still worth remembering. 

The steady buzz of the cicadas and the small, pleasant waft of the fresh air is soothing to him, despite the foreign fire that’s slowly igniting in his guts that has nothing to do with the surge of power and energy that always fills him up whenever he comes back here, after another tiring day in Hell.

No, this one’s darker and more overpowering than anything Alastor has ever felt, making his barely regained, fragile state of mind crack once more, equally angering and scaring him to the core. He lets out a bleat full of exasperation as he goes further into the bayou, seeking the comfort and peace that he’s been lacking for the past many days. 

It’s getting hot and uncomfortable in his clothes that cling too tightly to his body, restraining his movements and making him burn like in a fever, a feeling he hasn’t experienced since the moment of his death and getting reborn down in Hell. His small tail wags angrily from side to side behind his back as he brushes one of his antlers against the bark of a nearby tree, not entirely in control of his actions as he marks his presence and ownership of this place, getting stupidly territorial over something which is entirely his to begin with. 

The angelic wound over his chest throbs, far from being healed but the adrenaline in his veins dulls the pain, making him numb to it. The fire licking his guts makes him feel uncomfortable in a way that he has experienced but a few unfortunate times during his long existence, awakening his disgust once more as he huffs angrily and marches straight into a small pond under the canopy of the tree crowns above his head, not caring that he’s still nearly fully clothed and hoping that the cool water will soothe his empty craving for something that he doesn’t exactly understand and certainly has never experienced before to this extent. 

He curses in mind his fate but he needs to silently give it to Rosie that she is quite sharp when it comes to such things, definitely. Admitting that she’s been right and accepting it are two different things, though and he is far from making peace with this whole fucked up situation. 

At least the water around him, now reaching his waist, cools off some of the fire that rages in his body, bringing a small amount of relief, even if only for a short while. He takes a bit of it into his palms, watching the distorted reflection of his face in it for a moment, barely recognizing himself before he splashes it over his head, feeling all of his body ache in a way that makes him want to scream and run like a madman, chasing after something so elusive that it feels like a pointless goose chase. 

The one comforting thought that remains in him is that at least he is alone here, in his own solitude, without anyone trespassing and desecrating what’s his own, allowing him to slowly, little by little let his guard down and fully embrace the state of madness that’s steadily overtaking his rational mind, awakening some strange instincts in him that he never knew he had before. 

He’s just about to shake off his shirt that grew so uncomfortable and wet when suddenly his keen ears perk up and twitch, his low growl resounds in the forest forebodingly when he senses someone uninvited, an intruder that has foolishly dared enter his territory, his sacred place that absolutely no one had the right to without his explicit permission. 

He’s doesn’t intend to give it to anyone, though and especially not now when he’s definitely not in his right mind, half mad with the desire to possess, claim and fight, as irrational as these cravings are. 

“That is so not the way you greet your King,” he hears clearly a low, rumbling voice that resonates within the woods around him in turn, the last one he would expect up here to come looking for him. But perhaps the most fitting one, after all. 

“Get out,” he growls, not caring if Lucifer is doing it out of his own will or only because Charlie asked him to. “You’re not welcome here.”

“Believe me, it’s not the ideal place for me to spend my free afternoon either,” Lucifer’s tone sounds irritated which only angers him more. He clenches his fingers into fists, his claws break the skin, drawing some blood that flows down his palms and drips into the pond’s water. 

“Then fucking leave,” Al drawls through set teeth. Lucifer is the least likely person out of anyone at Hazbin to come here and he guesses that it’s just his rotten luck that it’s the shorty King who decided to pay a visit. “The door’s the other way around.”

“I can’t leave because everyone is convinced that you’re up to no good again,” the Devil says in a bored tone as he comes his way, the trees and bushes giving way before him, clearing his path in the forest. The sole fact that he meddles with anything that’s Al’s, gives him murderous thoughts. “Well, not on my watch, bitch,” he adds in a way that’s so diminishing that it makes Al’s blood boil. 

He lets out a feral growl and turns around abruptly, facing him at last and letting him see the crazy look of his eyes, now flashing in radio dials and the distinct deer features, now his antlers much bigger than anytime before, heavy and large above his head.

Lucifer halts his steps at once as his nonchalance slowly morphs into surprise and some mild interest even. He lids his eyes and inhales deeply, rolling out his long, forked tongue additionally and tasting the air around them with a hum as it clearly gradually comes to him what exactly is happening here. 

His eyes open rapidly, all reddened and sharp, Alastor now having his full attention at last as they stare at one another in heavy tension. 

“Well,” he says finally in a tone so low that it echoes under Alastor’s skull, making his headache even worse. “Not gonna lie here, this turns out quite interesting, after all,” he grins widely, presenting his sharp teeth which seem unnaturally white in the comparison to the darkened look he casts his way. 

Alastor snarls at him as his tendrils swirl behind his back warningly, ready to attack at any given moment now, the level of his anger and aggression nearly hitting its limit already. 

Because how dare that stupid, short King come up here so unceremoniously, uninvited and unwanted, witnessing something no one should ever see and then mock him for it. This is a violation of his privacy, of his personal space, everything that’s solely his. He has no right. 

“Get. The fuck. Out,” he growls, nearly seeing red already because Lucifer seems so entertained by this whole situation and definitely not a single bit remorseful about invading his sacred place like this. 

Lucifer only shakes his head no, playing with his cane in his hand as his long tail swings in the air behind him nonchalantly. 

“I won’t leave until I make sure that you’ll do no harm to the Hotel,” he says in a carefree manner but the mean glint in his eyes suggests that this is not the whole truth here. “In your current state leaving you alone here seems unreasonable, you’re buzzing so much that you might make the whole place collapse if not controlled properly.”

“I won’t be controlled by anyone!” Alastor hisses in a heavily distorted voice, so furious that he’s only inches away from jumping at that small fucker and rip him to shreds. 

Lucifer, that fucking prick, only laughs at that, finding it so indecently amusing, this horror that Alastor is going through. “Perhaps control is a bad word here. How about guided then, what do you say, hm…?” He asks seemingly innocently but something in his tone changes and even Al’s rage-dazed mind is able to recognize that much. 

His question confuses Al a bit as he visibly hesitates before giving his answer. “…what do you mean, guided…?” 

His question makes Lucifer’s eyes lighten up in some unhidden glee which makes Alastor’s insides turn unpleasantly. It never bodes well when his glance changes into this expression of utter amusement, something which never fails to piss Alastor off beyond any comprehension. 

“So very glad you asked,” he purrs in a way which makes Al’s fur bristle, definitely rubbing him the wrong way. “Because I might be gracious enough to help you through this unfortunate experience and make it feel much better than going through it all alone…” the temptation easily slips into his voice, reaching Al and caressing over his skin delicately, making it nearly impossible to resist. He won’t be charmed by any dirty tricks of the Devil that easily, though. 

“If I wanted your help I would have asked for it myself,” he barks, feeling dizzy with the tormenting sensations that attack his mind and body, making him feel hot and cold at the same time and everything in between as his whole body throbs. 

Lucifer doesn’t seem discouraged by his apparent lack of enthusiasm, though, rather on the contrary, his smirk widens even further as he bares his sharp teeth in a predatory manner, angering Alastor more than anything else ever in his entire life. 

“This is a big privilege, you know,” he says, digging his cane into the soft soil in between his heels and leaning against it. “I wouldn’t offer my assistance just to anyone, after all.”

Alastor’s eyes narrow as he slowly makes his way out of the pond, to the sand shore. “Do you expect me to fall down to my knees and praise your generosity here, oh my gracious King…?” He asks in a voice oozing sarcasm, knowing that he would rather tear his own limb off than ever grovel before anyone like that, let alone Lucifer. 

“Hm, not really,” Lucifer chuckles darkly, looks at him from below the brim of his hat, seemingly relaxed and unbothered but Alastor’s sharpened sight is able to notice the real tension in his muscles, hidden beneath that ridiculous, tacky suit that he so likes to wear on regular basis. “Would be entertaining, though, I won’t deny that.”

“I won’t be your fucking entertainment for the night,” Al snaps, slowly thinking of the best way to corner that tiny motherfucker and eat him alive. Lucifer is one annoying Devil but Alastor can’t say he’s not a tiny bit interested in his flesh and blood. He has tasted once the angelic blood and he had never tried anything like that before. Lucifer, being as powerful as he is will surely taste even better and the dark instincts that slowly try to awaken inside him turn on his hunting spree. 

Lucifer seems to remain quite oblivious to the change of his tactics here as he sends him a lopsided grin. Alastor cannot exactly see his eyes from his angle but he can feel them following his every little move, sliding over his body in a manner which gives him chills.

“Ah, we could certainly be entertained together today, that much I can promise—“

“Do you offer to become my snack then…?” Al asks, using a tiny bit of his magic to dry off his fur and remaining clothes which cling to his body uncomfortably. 

“A snack…?” Lucifer tilts his head to the side, still looking so inappropriately amused that Al is barely controlling himself anymore. He wants to gauge his eyes out and eat them and perhaps he wants something more as well which he still hasn’t had the courage to name outright. The thought certainly has crossed his mind already. “Goodness gracious, no,” Lucifer waves his hand dismissively and looks over his claws, seemingly losing his focus a bit. “What a ridiculous idea, truly,” his fingers slowly travel to the side of his neck, pulling his collar to the side a bit and teasing the skin around the patches covering his scent glands suggestively. “I’m afraid it has never really been in my nature,” he purrs, peeling it off for a moment to let his own scent waft through the air around, making Al’s breath hitch and turning the rest of his rational mind off. 

He growls, sensing the power hidden in it which collides with his own and awakens in him the need to assert his dominance here, a feeling so foreign in this particular manner but overpowering all the same. He’s still not sure where his place in this whole thing is but he feels like he’s on the verge of something and that sensation takes over his mind as he suddenly leaps forward, attacking with a grace of a cat, quick and silent as the excitement of the hunt and fight, something he knows very well, fills his veins. 

It seems, though, that this is exactly what Lucifer has been waiting for the whole time because only milliseconds before they collide together, it’s suddenly as if the time has slowed down, trapping Al in his own body and suspending him in the air as his gaze follows helplessly the way Lucifer crooks his lips in a triumphant manner. 

The Devil’s eyes shine in red as he makes a graceful dodge, looking mockingly towards Al in a way that suggests that he has predicted his every tiny move which makes him see red in pure fury. 

Alastor stares at him one moment too many as just a moment later the time comes back to its normal pace, making him crash with the ground with a shriek. His pants rip at his knees as he quickly looks up with murder in his eyes right at Lucifer who only stares down at him in that infuriating manner enhancing the difference in power between them particularly clearly. 

Not thinking much, he jumps forward again, letting his tendrils surge with him and trying to entrap him in between them to finally wipe that annoying smirk off of his face and show him who is going to hold the reigns today. Oh, he’s going to crush him, completely destroy him and it doesn’t fucking matter that he is the King—

“This is wildly entertaining,” Lucifer suddenly says, easily dodging again, making a small pirouette in the air and not letting any tendril as much as brush against him. “The foolish thought that you might actually defeat the Devil in a duel…,” his red horns tear the skin on his forehead and rapidly grow out as his features sharpen yet when he lets out his demonic appearance. “Even if it’s just your hormones dictating your irrational behavior,” his eyes sparkle when he sees how Al hesitates for a moment, as if this is the first time he’s considering that possibility. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what is happening to you now,” he arches a brow, looking Al up and down. The demon is still obviously pissed off and so full of pointless aggression but at least he listens now and lets the words sink in.  

“Rosie said this is what presenting looks like,” he finally speaks up after a moment of awkward silence. “Called me a late bloomer—“

Lucifer’s laughter interrupts him, making him see red again as he growls, trying to reach him again with his long tendrils but the shorty Devil is too fast and agile for any of his attacks to actually reach their target, despite how clear his vision seems to be now. 

“That’s kind of fitting, you know,” he says in a joking manner that Alastor takes for an attack again, trying to hit him once more and once more failing at his attempt. “All demons usually present shortly after coming down here. If they don’t, they assume the Beta status which, as I understand it, has been your case so far, hasn’t it…?”

Alastor huffs angrily, digging his hoof into the soft ground and grubbing in it in a very deer manner as his ears twitch. 

“Why is this happening to me?” He demands, trying to ignore the fire licking up his insides. It’s too hot in his clothes, he’s literally melting, feeling his cheeks steadily bloom in red but he’s absolutely not taking off anything else in front of Lucifer. 

Lucifer only shrugs dismissively, not even trying to give him any answer. “Fuck if I know,” he mutters in a careless manner, flapping his wings gently as he floats above Al’s head. “Maybe you’ve finally matured up enough, little fawn,” he grins menacingly at him, seeing how much the pet name pisses him off. “Maybe you’re just weird. Or maybe both, who knows. Who cares…”

His completely careless tone annoys Al additionally because he cares, he does care a lot and wants it all to stop. He liked being a Beta, all of these new sensations and feelings weigh on him heavily, it’s tiring…

“Stop it,” he barks, sounding demanding but deep down he’s desperate because he feels like he’s slowly losing himself to the madness of the mating season. A single thought makes him want to puke. 

“Oh, Bambi…,” Lucifer purrs, clearly enjoying the way Al’s eyes flash in fury at another per name. “Even if I could I wouldn’t. This has a potential to turn into so much fun…”

“I will fucking show you fun, you raging asshole!” Al hisses as his neck cracks when it elongates a little. His silhouette wavers as he readies himself to let out his large demon form but it’s like something blocks his transformation, not letting him grow. His tendrils thump against the ground in frustration as he bleats loudly, the piercing sound echoes throughout the forest, carrying it far and wide. 

“Can’t let you ruin the Hotel, remember?” Lucifer smirks as he slowly descends and lands on the soft grass. 

“Afraid you might lose, Your Majesty…?” Al asks, clenching his fists so hard that he breaks the skin again. 

Lucifer only scoffs at that, still highly amused as he stands right in front of him, taking his hat off and shaking off his jacket. “You would like that, wouldn’t you…?” He asks, rolling up his sleeves which puts on display the blackness of his forearms. “Unfortunately for you, this is not in my nature either.”

His form blurs for a moment and Alastor has to squint his eyes to focus his sight properly. He nearly gasps when he notices his shape again and with it the large antlers growing out of Lucifer’s head, replacing his horns, right next to the blond, fluffy ears and the clear hint of the chest fluff peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt. 

He stares dumbfounded at him, not sure what to say, seeing his unnecessary theatrics and most certainly having a very stupid expression as of now. 

“Well…?” Lucifer gestures at himself. “Seems fitting, doesn’t it? Do you like it, Bambi…?”

Alastor’s blood boils again once he hears it as his fur bristles and his ears pull back. His instincts take over again, quickly making him forget that it’s Lucifer out there, thoroughly occupied by the thought that there’s a competition right in front of him, so audaciously standing before him on his territory and having exactly no ounce of remorse in himself for entering the place that doesn’t welcome him. 

He digs his hoofs further into the ground, nearly shaking at this point, blinded by some irrational need to show the Devil his place at last. 

“Yes, be angry, let it all out…,” Lucifer teases as his own eyes flash red and his claws sharpen. “There is only one way for this to end, after all…”

They surge forward nearly simultaneously. Alastor may be blinded by his rage but the sudden sharpness of his senses makes his reactions faster than his mind manages to process his actions, letting out a deafening growl and attacking with his claws, tendrils and antlers which collide harshly with Lucifer’s, equally large and equally sturdy. With how pumped with adrenaline he is, in this moment he feels invincible but Lucifer is bloody strong despite his otherwise smaller posture and so it doesn’t exactly go the way Al imagined it. 

He bleats in frustration as they separate again, circling around, trying desperately to gain advantage over the other which might secure the victory in this fight that by Al’s standards might as well be to the death even if technically he is no longer alive. 

They clash again and the noise of their antlers colliding echoes through the woods again, making all the other sounds temporarily disappear. Lucifer looks up at him with an ugly grin all over his face, definitely enjoying their fight, highly amused still, even if Al doesn’t see anything funny in it, much too overwhelmed by the feelings he doesn’t understand but which drives him to continue until their blood sprinkles the grass. 

His scent glands swell at the sides of his neck, they itch and hurt. The tension in his muscles borders already on unbearable and he despises every single second of it. 

And yet he is unable to stop now. 

He doesn’t even realize how his scent intensifies in the air around them, much too focused on trying to push Lucifer back and trip him at last. Lucifer, however, seems to notice it instantly as he bites into his bottom lip and breathes out a puff of smoke, clearly affected by their combat all the same, despite his smug attitude. 

“So this is how you wanna play, huh…?” He growls, shooting him a crazed look. “So be it then,” he whispers in a rumbling voice, reaching up to his neck. “I’ll let you witness who the real big boss of Hell himself is…”

He rips the scents blockers off of his neck, letting his scent spread out much stronger than before, quickly dominating any other and making Alastor waver. 

The demon inhales rapidly, feeling dizzy as the strong aroma of the burning cedar wood and black pepper, spiced with a tiny hint bergamot and some heavy musk attacks his senses and messes with his head much more than during that one moment when Lucifer teased his real scent. 

Al gulps and jumps back, tripping over his own legs as he falls to the ground, dirtying and ruining the rest of his clothes as the loud buzzing fills up the air around his head. 

Lucifer stands above him, suddenly seeming much taller than normally, with his antlers large and proud, truly fitting the top Alpha male, no matter how much Alastor doesn’t want to admit that. His eyes are completely red, the Hellfire rages in their depths as the shadows darken around his silhouette and all he does is standing there, in between the trampled grass of the quiet woods of the bayou. 

For the first time since the moment the Devil betrayed his presence here, Alastor feels something else than just blinding anger and raging fire inside. His confusion is evident in the way his eyes widen, losing a bit of the ferocity that’s been burning in them since the moment their gazes met for the first time today. He crawls back a few feet, pinning his ears down and fighting with the urge to huddle, feeling the overwhelming scent nearly press him down to the ground and enslave his hyper sensitive senses. 

The way Lucifer towers over him, a mere thought seemingly preposterous and impossible, given their height difference, gives him some weird fuzzy feeling tingling in his guts and that’s a distinctively different sensation than everything that he has managed to experience so far. 

His figure isn’t all that bigger than usually but the magnificent antlers adorning his head mess with Al’s thoughts again, making him unsure of what his mind and body wants him to do anymore. 

The confused bleat tears out of his throat as his own antlers retract to their usual size and his adrenaline drops to the point of him finally feeling how much the wound over his chest throbs, probably opening up again at its edges. 

He feels… weird, for lack of a better word. The clarity that he’s had just moments ago, being set on showing Lucifer his place is nearly gone, leaving him disoriented and without a solid motivation now. 

Lucifer’s scent is strong. Stronger than anything he’s smelled during the past days, despite the countless Alphas he’s encountered during that time. It’s ten thousand times more overwhelming and it tightens its grasp around his throat, making it hard to breathe, commanding him to acknowledge his dominance. He tries to stand up and fight against it, digging his claws helplessly into the soft soil beneath them but it seems that the harder he fights, the tighter the grip becomes. 

The dark chuckle reverberating beneath the canopy of the tree crowns reaches his ears, making his fur stand up as some silent yet firm worry starts creeping up his spine. The fire inside his guts burns just as brightly as it did before, just the sensation slowly changes into something which makes Alastor shudder and gulp in a clear discomfort but of some very different source. 

“You have always driven me fucking insane, Bambi…,” Lucifer’s voice comes from all around, hammering beneath his skull and making it painful to as much as think one coherent thought. “Such a disrespectful, prideful demon, loving to play with fire even if he might burn… I can see the resemblance clearly now, that I actually take the time to give it a thought, you know,” he makes a few slow steps towards Al, enjoying the way he backs away a bit more, trying to create more space between them, even if he doesn’t have much options left, slowly being pushed into the corner. “We are nothing alike. And yet we are so similar,” he inhales deeply with a low rumble coming out of the depths of his throat in contentment, tasting the air and savoring in a manner that gives Alastor some very chilly feeling. 

He has no idea what is going on, if this is all a part of the process or if it’s just him being weird but he’s definitely lost that spark of confidence that made him challenge the literal Devil to the battle for dominance. 

“Curious,” Lucifer says suddenly, licking his lips over with that obscenely long, forked tongue of his. “Peculiar. Interesting,” he grins, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and letting Al see clearly now that he does have that deer chest fluff right there which gives him a very funny feeling in his stomach. 

“What’s so interesting…?” He manages to choke out, soon pressing his back against the trunk of the tree, blocking his escape route. 

“Why, you, Alastor…,” he purrs out his name, coming closer yet and slowly bending over Al’s figure, so full of confidence and smugness that Alastor cringes internally. “I knew you could never be the dominant gender, though,” he chuckles, seeing the way Al’s fur bristles as he growls at him, gritting his teeth, still resisting and fighting, despite his body slowly giving in already. “Not with these fluffy ears, pretty doe lashes and your cunty attitude,” he grins, seeing the silent outrage in Al’s eyes as he gasps, clearly lacking the words to say anything back, too shocked by Lucifer’s straightforwardness. “Oh, and let’s not forget the cute, little tail there,” he adds, sliding his eyes over Al’s body in a way that makes him feel both disgusted and full of anticipation of some unknown source. “That tiny waist of yours was made to be grabbed—“ 

He hisses when suddenly Alastor’s claws surge forward and scratch deeply his forearm when he reaches out to him with the clear intention of touching. 

Their eyes meet again and Lucifer can clearly see the fire still burning deeply in his red eyes, still far from the expected submission. That’s fine, though because Lucifer does like a good challenge and he hasn’t had one for centuries. 

“A feisty one. I can work with that,” he crooks up one corner of his lips a little higher as his skin mends and heals in a matter of seconds. “Makes it more exciting.”

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me,” Alastor growls with burning threat behind his words but deep down he’s not even sure if he means it anymore which awakens one more feeling inside him — the overwhelming fear of what else might happen now, slowly paralyzing his body. 

“You sure you mean it, though…?” Lucifer asks, tilting his head to the side a bit and inhaling deeply again, clearly enjoying the scent coming off of Al. 

The demon cannot feel it himself. All that his sense of smell detects is that heavy Alpha scent which originates from Lucifer, playing with his senses and dimming them to the point that he barely notices anything besides the overpowering presence of the Devil, changing rapidly the situation and not in his favor. 

“I– I don’t understand—“ he shuts his mouth immediately, embarrassed by his stuttering but the sudden dryness of his throat makes it hard to speak. 

“Your scent suggests a very different scenario,” Lucifer whispers gutturally, looking over the way Al’s face slowly gains a color of lovely red that isn’t exactly the result of his anger. “All it was at first was adrenaline, rage and hesitance. Now, though, that the situation is slowly clearing up–“ his voice breaks for a moment, closing his eyes for a second, clearly affected here, to the point of having to try to concentrate before continuing his thought. “I could… help you out here, Bambi… it tends to be quite overwhelming, especially when it’s your first—“

“What are you taking about…?” Al interrupts him, fighting to stay focused, despite the mad beating of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. 

“Your heat,” Lucifer murmurs, watching closely the whole variety of emotions passing through his eyes with utmost pleasure as he tries to process it. 

“My what…?” Al shakes his head, blinking rapidly as his ears press even tighter against his head. 

“You’ve heard me right the first time, Bambi,” Lucifer purrs, leaning even closer yet. “Don’t you feel that yourself…? No Alpha smells of strawberries and daisies, the scent so sweet and delicate that even I am surprised. Your body must be too,” he laughs, seeing the dumbfounded expression on Al’s face. “But of course you can’t smell that, can you…? My own is too strong to resist, isn’t it…? Too overpowering to let you feel anything else… And here you thought that you could top that…,” he huffs in amusement, grabbing Al’s chin and pulling him closer so that their faces nearly touch. “How fast the tides change…”

“…this is some bullshit!” Alastor barks at him, grabbing Lucifer’s wrist and digging his claws into it, trying to push him away. “Rosie said I was on the verge of presenting as an Alpha—“

“Ah, perhaps that was right back then,” Lucifer agrees, squeezing Al’s cheeks in his fingers a bit and making him even more mad. “It seems, though that the exposure to my scent shifted something in your dynamic because what you are becoming is definitely not an Alpha.”

He enjoys the silent hesitation in Al’s eyes, easily able to tell that the realization is slowly dawning on him already but he’s still not ready to accept that. He decides to help him a bit, especially that he’s growing impatient, as the heat pheromones Al is so generously giving off now slowly start giving his own composure a hard time. 

This is the unclaimed Omega, slowly going into his first heat ever, untouched and unsullied by anyone else before and that awareness is slowly setting his sense on fire. The ferocity of the upcoming rut already creeps up his spine. It’s been years since the last time he felt it and it’s safe to say that he’s growing immorally excited by the prospect of the mating season, not caring that the Omega in question appears to be that one demon that he has always claimed he despised. Alastor, however, seems like the most desirable thing he has ever laid his eyes upon currently and his need to claim him starts already burning brighter than his reason. 

“I can smell the scent of your slick, Bambi,” he adds in a low, hypnotizing tone, licking his lips over again. “And I can’t wait to taste it—“

Alastor lets out a muffled sound as he suddenly realizes the very distinct wet feeling inside his pants and underwear which is weird since he dried his clothes up once he got out of the pond. The sinking feeling squeezes around his chest as he breaks free from Lucifer’s grasp and bumps the back of his head against the trunk behind him which makes his head buzz with broken static additionally. He grabs at his front when an arrow of pain pierces through it, letting out a soft bleat and feeling how the world spins around. 

Lucifer’s attention shifts to his chest as he rolls out his long tongue and tastes the air. The iron, bitter scent is unmistakably blood though and he is quite sure that it’s not from their previous fight. 

“You’re hurt,” he says in an emotionless tone, looking up to Al’s eyes and seeing the remains of his defiance inside them. 

“This is not your business,” the demon drawls through set teeth, trying to create more distance between them, despite how close they are already. “I’m fine.”

“It’s no ordinary wound,” Lucifer whispers as the hellfire ignites over his magnificent antlers. “I could heal it, though.”

Alastor looks as if he was considering the offer for a few seconds before the anger comes back to his gaze and he bleats again and pushes Lucifer away in some surge of unexpected strength, breaking free at last. 

“Leave me the fuck alone…!” He yells, pulling up to his hooves and jumping back into the bushes, feeling the overwhelming need to run and hoping foolishly that perhaps Lucifer won’t follow. 

Lucifer’s senses sharpen again as he straightens up, feeling the excitement filling up his veins. If Alastor wants to play, he will play along. He has smelled on him already that somewhere deep down his body desires him as much, it’s only his mind which still hasn’t caught up. Lucifer is willing to give him these few moments of break, though, knowing that he would find him anywhere, no matter which far corner of Hell Alastor might run to. Once he’s caught the waft of this sweet, addictive scent, he won’t rest until he’s found and hunted down the pretty deer Omega, making him his for all to see. His Alpha instincts have switched off any unnecessary doubts and hesitation, setting him on the clear path to claim what he desires so desperately. 

Alastor doesn’t think clearly anymore, it’s all a part of the process already, even if he doesn’t realize that yet. Once his body settled on one dynamic at last, he’s bound to go down the route any other Omega would follow, feeling the need to run and hide until he finally falls into Lucifer’s trap, not able to resist anymore. 

The demon pushes forward, without any solid direction in mind, wobbling on his legs a bit and not wanting to acknowledge that his fate appears to be even worse than he originally imagined. He never wanted to be anything else beside a blessedly unbothered Beta but out of the two remaining options, being an Alpha was a much better choice than the cursed Omega. The sole thought makes the bile rise up to his throat as he stops for a minute and pukes, grabbing his stomach helplessly.  

He’s dizzy, his limbs are shaking, the heat is combusting inside him, burning him in the flames of never ending need and making him limp and powerless, he absolutely hates the feeling. And he’s afraid because he can feel that he’s not alone in these woods and the one here with him has some very malevolent intentions regarding him in mind. 

He bleats in all the hopelessness that builds up the tension inside him because this isn’t fair, this thing that’s happening to him. Soon he’s not even able to walk with how much his muscles weaken. The burning fever consumes him as he crawls the last few yards up to the giant rock, pushing his back against it and panting lightly. 

It’s hot all around and even though Alastor is well accustomed to the usual scorching heat of Hell, this is an entirely different kind of hotness that’s flooding him. He tugs on his shirt, ripping it open but it brings exactly no relief. He looks down over his chest, seeing how the wound bleeds again, the bright green stitches ripped a bit at its edges, quickly staining his fur with red hot blood. 

“Fuck…,” he curses softly, leaning the back of his head against the cold stone, digging his hooves into the ground and trying to even his breath. The pain is blinding, the heat in his abdomen makes him nauseous, he’s fucking tired, tired of all of this torture that he’s been living through for the past days to no end. He bleats softly, pressing his legs together, feeling so wet there and uncomfortably hard, the sensations so foreign that he’s helpless about dealing with it alone. 

“Are you finally ready to admit that you do need my help, Bambi…?” He hears the low voice of someone whom he barely tolerates on daily basis and the sole thought of him witnessing his shame and weakness is making him sick again but on the other hand his tone has that softness hidden in it, despite the dark desire simmering just beneath it, which soothes a tiny bit his frayed nerves, even if he doesn’t let this thought sink in enough to acknowledge it. 

Lucifer slowly comes out from among the large trees around, already stripped off his shirt, presenting proudly his fluffed chest, unexpectedly wide and appealing, making Al quickly turn his eyes away. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters under his breath, trying to sound brusquely but it comes out more resigned instead. 

Lucifer smirks a bit as he looks over him, so very weakened and yet still sassy. Just like Alastor usually is honestly. “It’s a nasty wound, Al,” he remarks, looking over the drops of blood still pouring out of it. “Don’t be so stubborn and accept the help offered to you so selflessly—“

Alastor scoffs at that, clenching his hands into fists. “Selflessly,” he repeats sarcastically. “Yeah, right. You are so fucking gracious, Lucifer.” He laughs mockingly when he sees Lucifer’s antlers tangling with the lower tree branches. 

The Devil bleats angrily as he shakes his head, breaking the wood and throwing away its parts angrily. The sound of his voice sinks into Al’s brain painfully, making him grit his teeth, refusing to admit that he might like deep down that Lucifer changed his features into deer ones. He ignores also the fact that he no longer minds another buck, another Alpha on his territory. 

“Well, can’t really deny that you pose a pure temptation to me right now, Al,” Lucifer mutters, approaching him slowly, looking over him vigilantly. “It’s been long since the last time I was in a similar situation.”

“Can’t you stop it?” Al asks with a desperate note in his voice, hating that he has to plead but not seeing any other option for himself at this point. 

“You mean the heat…?” Al makes a truly pitiful picture right now, leaning against the rock, all powerless and weak and all Lucifer wants it to devour him. “There is no way for me to do that, unfortunately. Especially that your heat has awakened my rut in turn. At this stage my mind has already settled on only one thing,” he whispers as he falls down to his hands an knees and slowly crawls closer yet, his red eyes flashing in hellfire, making Al gulp in panic as he presses back against the rock. “Mating my pretty Omega and making you mine,” he purrs, leaning closer yet and settling in between Al’s legs but without touching him yet. “You, after all, are my prize for the good hunt, aren’t you…?” His voice drops so low that Al can barely hear him. 

“A good hunt…?” He asks weakly with a mocking note. “You must be joking. It all lasted for mere minutes with me so heavily dazed already.”

Lucifer’s smirk turns wicked momentarily. “Ah, but I had started setting up my trap way before you decided to flee, little doe…”

Alastor doesn’t really have the strength to get angry at yet another preposterous nickname. “…how so…?”

“Let’s say that I decided to indulge you a bit before getting down to business,” he admits easily, without an ounce of shame. 

Alastor whines quietly, feeling the heat burning up his insides. He’s so wet that his pants are complete soaked already and that’s the most hideous feeling he has ever experienced. He’s feeling so much at the same time that it all blurs, making him nearly numb in the longing so strong that he stops caring anymore, wishing only that this horrible torture comes to an end at last. 

“Do it then,” he breathes, tilting his head to the side and exposing his neck in a clear surrender. “Let this be over already so that we can forget that it ever even happened—“

His words get stuck in his throat when suddenly Lucifer jumps forward so close that there is little to no space between them left. His heart hammers in his chest, feeling his warm breath against the bare skin of his collarbones as he stills in heavy anticipation. 

“I’ll challenge myself to make sure that you won’t forget all that easily then, Al…,” he purrs as he sniffs over his swollen scent glands, now giving off some absolutely intoxicating aroma that awakens in him the feelings that he hasn’t felt for years. The desire and need to claim the one that he’s caught in his clutch nearly overtakes his mind already, the unexpected rut already burning in his veins, setting his blood ablaze. The fact that Alastor seems to have accepted his fate only turns him on further. He’s about to lick over the delectable gland when suddenly something catches his attention. “What is that…?” He barks a question as his eyes burn in sudden anger when he looks over a small scar on Al’s neck. It doesn’t exactly look like a bonding mark but the placement of it cannot be a coincidence. 

Alastor’s face visibly reddens even harder than before as he grits his teeth, the topic clearly uncomfortable for him. 

“You’re not the only one who wanted to own me,” he drawls through set teeth, trying to control the growl arising in his throat. “Luckily bonding for Betas isn’t really possible. Otherwise I would have been enslaved in the nightmare for the rest of my existence—“

“Did someone hurt you, Alastor…?” Lucifer asks in a voice completely changed, cold and strange, so far from the usual, filled with warmth even when oozing desire and lust. 

“This is none of your fucking concern,” Alastor barks at him, already regretting that he said anything about it in the first place. “Stop stalling and do your thing at last, I think I’m gonna pass out otherwise—”

He whimpers when Lucifer’s hand presses against his wounded chest. “Perhaps you would like to hold onto me, this might not be exactly pleasant—“

“Hurry up or I’ll kick your ass,” Alastor hisses even though currently it’s a completely empty threat. 

Lucifer doesn’t hesitate anymore as his hand glows in faint golden light, burning all the nasty remains of the angelic magic that kept it from healing. Alastor barely moves through the whole process, even if it’s supposedly painful, he doesn’t feel much pain, too dazed by the stage of the full blown heat that he’s already entering. He only bleats pathetically, tugging on the rags that used to be his clothes, feeling hot and uncomfortable in his own skin. Lucifer’s touch burns and not only because he’s currently using his magic on him. The scent of the strong Alpha, the strongest out there, no doubt, clouds his mind, as he slowly submits to the longing, wishing for it to envelop him and soothe the ache in his body that makes all of his nerve endings tingle. 

The Devil huffs with a half-smile as he magically rids Al of the rest of his clothes, looking approvingly over Al’s naked body.

Alastor is slender. To the point of his ribs protruding. His skin is covered in hundreds of smaller and bigger scars that look old, most certainly back from his human life. Lucifer doesn’t dare ask, though, assuming that each one of them has a personal story behind it and he’s already prying into his privacy enough for one day. The healed wound on his chest will become just one of many but at least when it comes to this one, Lucifer can more or less imagine how it appeared on Al’s body. 

His chest fluff looks so soft that he can’t stop himself from burying his face into it, careful not to hurt Al with his current, large antlers. The demon, though, pushes his face away nearly immediately with a wild spark in his eyes. 

“I don’t want tenderness,” he hisses, certainly believing in his words but Lucifer is able to notice in his eyes that there is a fat chance Al isn’t entirely sincere here, even if he doesn’t acknowledge that. 

He lets that go for now, though, vowing to himself to make this good for this cheeky demon, despite how much he’s craving to pin him down to the ground and fuck senseless already. If all the presumable intimate experience that Alastor may have had wasn’t a good one, at least he can replace any bad memories with better ones, even if this situation is far from the ideal. Lucifer’s mind is too dazed by the shared mating season to think about it any longer, though as his hands caress lightly over Al’s tiny waist. 

He sneaks in between Al’s legs, making him sit in his lap which allows him to feel the real crazy amount of slick that Alastor has already produced during the past hour or two. He’s so hard that he slowly leaks as well as his abdomen clenches unpleasantly in some unspeakable need as his hips jerk when Lucifer touches more directly now, wrapping his hand around Al’s pretty cock and giving a first lazy stroke. 

Alastor gasps, arching his back against the rock behind his back, fighting with keeping his voice down which in turn forces Lucifer to try even harder. Their rivalry hasn’t stopped but now he additionally wants Al to let go and drown in the feeling, allowing the heat to consume him with Lucifer guiding him through the experience. 

His second hand travels behind Al, feeling the wetness nearly soaking his own pants already. The potent sweet scent of strawberries and daisies intensifies when he touches carefully around the source of it, circling his fingers around the small opening in between his buttocks curiously. 

Alastor screeches and squirms in his arms, definitely not used to this kind of treatment. He doesn’t protest much otherwise, though so Lucifer proceeds, gathering the slick over his fingers and slowly pushing one inside with ease, given how wet Alastor already is, the heat seems to have already relaxed his muscles enough for it to run smoothly. 

“Hmm, so wet and loose already…,” he murmurs in deep contentment, pushing another finger in and searching inside for some very special spot which will feel even better for Al. “It’s like your body was made for this…” He smirks, feeling how Alastor tightens around him at his words and how his cheeks redden even stronger despite him stubbornly looking away. “There shouldn’t be any trouble with fitting all of me inside.”

His fingers dive deeper, soon dripping with the sweet slick as well which serves as an additional spur for him, brining to life all the ferocity of his second gender. The moment he finally hits his prostate is definitely the most satisfying so far because it causes a beautiful arch of Al’s back and a first real moan, loud and breathless, betraying that he’s enjoying what he’s receiving despite his unwillingness to admit it and that’s Lucifer’s main objective here. Besides claiming every single part of him as his, that is. 

“You become quite cute when so obedient,” he purrs happily, knowing perfectly well that he’s playing dirty, having an advantage over Al who’s barely able to think a single coherent thought yet. This is his very first heat, very first mating season, he has no idea yet how this all feels and how good it can be if only with the right partner. Indulging in dark desires, letting the instinct rule the mind, letting go of any control and drowning in the madness of the mating season is something unimaginable and inaccessible for a Beta. Lucifer can feel the fear of vulnerability in Al’s scent, can see it in his trembling limbs and muffled voice but there’s also this eagerness and need to dive into the unknown in him, just like the timid hope that Lucifer won’t hurt him when he’s so defenseless. 

The Devil won’t say it all aloud, though. Perhaps one day but not today. Embarrassing Al even further by pointing it all out will prove that he’s no better than whoever tried this game before with him. Lucifer can see well that Alastor’s experience is close to none in this field. That whatever happened once was not a pleasant experience. And he is determined to change his views here and make sure that no one else will ever lay their hand on him without the explicit permission.

The thought that perhaps he doesn’t want anyone else to ever touch Alastor like this already starts taking root in his mind but he refuses to analyze it any further, too focused on the matters at hand.

Alastor huffs at his words, furrowing his brows as his hips jerk on their own at the newest stimulation. “I will… rip off that long tongue… haaah… when this is finally over…,” he pants out, scratching his sharp claws along the rock and leaving deep cuts in its surface. “You talk too much—“ he squeaks when Lucifer shifts his fingers a bit and massages the small gland deeply within him, giving him a tightening sensation in his abdomen. The hand on his cock strokes him faster, making him try to move away, knowing that he’s close, so close it hurts but there is no way to run. “Fuck…,” he whimpers, spilling his seed all over his front as Lucifer fingers him through his orgasm, making him whine in oversensitivity. It doesn’t bring much relief, though. “I— I need to come, I need to— fuuuck…,” he presses his hips lower, finally admitting before himself that what he wants is not fingers but something longer and thicker and much more satisfying to fill him up, no matter how humiliating his need is. 

Lucifer arches a brow at him in silent amusement. “You just did, though, Bambi,” he mutters as his deer ears twitch in a sign of pure contentment. “In some handsome amounts, might I add,” he snickers crookedly. 

“Not like that,” Al whispers helplessly, slowly turning his head to him, all flushed up, teary-eyed and so very desperate that Lucifer has to bite the inside of his cheek to calm down a bit. Al’s gaze falls down to Lucifer’s groin and a very distinct tent in his pants, betraying the large shape of his cock, barely hidden beneath the material yet. 

“Oh,” Lucifer quickly slips his fingers out of Al and grabs his hips, laying him down on the soft grass bed instead which suddenly overflows with a sea of white flowers that let out an intoxicating scent as the tress above them overgrow and create a small dome over their heads, cutting them off of the rest of the world but somehow Alastor doesn’t feel trapped, more like relieved that the only one with him here is the Alpha who has earned him tonight. The scent of the white lilies tangles with Lucifer’s pheromones, making him limp and weak, giving in at last to the need that dictates his behavior during the heat. He doesn’t know anymore if it’s him who influences the appearance of the bayou or if Lucifer’s magic meddles with it but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“You mean you want this…?” The Devil asks, grinning widely as suddenly his pants disappear, presenting Al with the view of the cock big enough to make him gulp in sudden uncertainty. It’s long and thick, curled up towards his abdomen and flushed in pretty golden, leaking already a few droplets of pre cum which gives away his own arousal. Alastor’s eyes settle on the clear knot at its base, not fully pumped yet but definitely noticeable already as the remains of his reason briefly wonder if this is such a good idea, after all. 

The worries quickly disappear, though when he inhales deeply again, feeling the burning cedar wood all around and letting his instincts rule his mind again, giving in to the incredible pull of the moment that he no longer can resist. 

He opens his legs widely and grabs below his knees, raising his hips a bit and exposing everything he has to offer to the Alpha who managed to catch him and therefore earned his right to claim him. 

“Yeah…,” he whispers, wagging his sweet, fluffy tail from side to side and nearly giving Lucifer a heart attack. 

The Devil grunts and surges forward, grabbing the back of Al’s thighs and pushing him lower yet, using the fact that the demon seems flexible enough as he buries his face into him, lapping at the small hole and drinking the sweet slick as he hums in delight. 

“What— what the fuck…?” Al screams, kicking his hooves in the air. “That’s not— Lucifer…!” He moans, rolling his eyes back and grabbing his wide antlers, seeking desperately a leverage of some sort. 

The long tongue quickly dives inside, making a sinful twist and pressing right where it feels best, making him numb in pleasure as he rocks his hips helplessly with a desperate bleat. 

“Fuuuuck…,” he wails as his chest rises up rapidly in every quick breath he takes, nearly choking on his own drool with how dizzy he feels. “Fuck…,” he sobs when he comes again, dirtying his front even further but still unable to find the relief, remaining hard and desperate, filled with longing he has never felt before. 

“Mhmm…,” Lucifer hums happily, drinking up all the slick he can get. “You even taste of strawberries… so sweet…,” he whispers, licking up from Al’s hole, over his balls and further to the tip of his cock. 

“Lucifer…,” he hears a heavily distorted voice, hiding a soft plea in it which piques his interest immediately. He looks up, admiring silently how ruined Alastor already seems, helpless and completely at his mercy. 

Al blinks a few times and slowly turns around onto his hands and knees, pinning his ears down in shame and raising his hips high, his instinct telling him to present everything he has to the eyes of the one who earned his privilege to mate him tonight. He stills with his ass up in the air and his face buried in the grass and flowers, hiding from the view. His tail presses down a bit, trembling slightly as it covers his backside a bit, clearly embarrassed about presenting himself like this, acknowledging his submission and offering his body to be taken into possession by another person. 

Lucifer’s mind nearly short circuits at this point. His inner Alpha growls, seeing that Alastor gives himself to him so willingly at last, accepting his fate and more so, wanting it. He lets out a low bleat, responding to Al’s mating call and seeing in satisfaction the way Al’s knees buckle, spreading apart a tiny bit further as he watches the slick slowly drip down his legs and to the soft grass beneath him. 

He leans closer and takes Al’s tail into his hand, yanking it up to expose him completely, making him screech. He laughs gutturally at that, nuzzling the fluffy fur and hovering over his back. “No need to be so shy, little doe…,” he whispers, brushing his hands over the perfect arch of Al’s back. “You’re such a pretty one. Made to be mated by the King, weren’t you…? Having waited for nearly a hundred years to present right in front of my eyes and offer yourself to me…,” he presses his cock in between Alastor’s buttocks, rubbing its length against him and relishing in the fact how much Al presses back in pure desperation. “Tell me how much you want it, Al…,” he purrs in a low, tempting voice. “How much you need it…”

Alastor grits his teeth, pushing his hips back again. “Fuck you, we wouldn’t be here otherwise,” his words are angry but his tone is nearly pleading. It seems to be enough though because Lucifer is already losing control anyway, the intoxicating scent of the white flowers around and the sweetness of Al’s slick and scent make him nearly explode here and now. 

“You’re right,” he huffs, grabbing Al’s hips and aligning his pelvis properly. “Time to claim what’s mine…,” he whispers, pushing in, in a one, well-aimed thrust, making Al’s back arch impossibly high as he slips in easily with how soaked he is. “Oh fuck…,” Lucifer groans, pushing as far as can go. “Bambi, you feel fucking amazing. My pretty Omega, so wet and tight,” he marvels, mounting Al properly and listening to his panting voice. He presses his forehead against the space in between Al’s shoulder blades to calm down a bit and collect himself before he looks briefly over Al’s nape and the side of his neck, so tempting with his scent glands still unmarked, calling to him to stake his claim. 

His hips start moving without any previous warning as he pulls back and thrusts in again, quickly setting a steady pace and making Al wail. He’s not holding back anymore, being rough and fucking Alastor fast and deep until their skins start slapping against each other, filling up the air with sinful noises. His inner need to dominate and claim clouds his mind, especially that Al doesn’t protest, only pushes back, setting Lucifer’s senses on fire. Everything in his posture suggests eagerness now which tells Lucifer how much he wants it, not minding the rough treatment and silently begging for more, the greedy little thing.

He digs his claws into Al’s hips, keeping him in place when he jerks when the angle of the thrusts changes slightly. He breathes out fire, looking over Al’s elegant back and the nice curve of his ass and thinking how much he wants to destroy him completely and ruin for anybody else. He tugs on Al’s tail, being rewarded with a louder sound which makes him realize that he wants to hear him better and the way Al muffles his voice in his arms just won’t do anymore. 

“Come on, Al, let me hear that sweet voice of yours,” he barks, giving a harder thrust and hearing how the static explodes around Al’s head. “No more hiding, Bambi,” he snaps, surging forward and grabbing one of Al’s antlers and a handful of his hair, yanking his head back and making him bleat clearly, now that he doesn’t have a hand over his mouth. “Yeah, that’s it… show me how much you want it,” he orders in a tone not tolerating any disobedience, making Al meek as he rakes his claws over the ground, mad with need, pleasure and the combined scent of their mating and all the flowers around, making his world spin out of any control. 

“I— yes…, please– fuck, that’s good… more…,” he begs, tilting his head to the side and exposing his scent glands, instinctively, sobbing when he feels Lucifer leaning closer yet when he pulls him back further to press him against his front, fucking up into him without a moments rest and striking a perfect place in this position, making Alastor see the whole constellations of stars when he rolls his eyes back. “A–Alpha…!” He screams, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks. “Inside,” he squeaks, seeing black dots dancing in front of his vision when he feels Lucifer’s breath over his scent glands. The Devil growls, baring his sharp teeth, somewhere deep down not sure if it’s such a good idea but with their shared insanity he doesn’t think straight anymore, set on a sole path to tie this Omega to himself permanently, his reward, his prize, his sweet mate. 

He pushes his fingers into Al’s mouth, keeping him in place as he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh over the scent gland, breaking the skin easily and tasting the blood spiced with desire as he grunts, feeling how Alastor clamps down on him immediately when the sensations of the bond forming between them turns so much more real, joining their minds and bodies in the shared ecstasy as Al finally reaches the first satisfying peak since they began. 

Lucifer’s hips don’t slowly down as he frowns in concentration and pushes the swelling knot right into Al’s hole, feeling it catching at the rim after a few more thrusts, filling up his mate to the absolute limits of his body and spurting an astonishing amount of seed deeply inside, making Al’s overstimulated mind buzz. The fat knot keeps it all nicely inside, securing Lucifer’s claim on him in every possible way. 

Lucifer hums, slowly letting go of Al’s neck and licking over the wound in a soothing manner. His large antlers and deer ears disappear as his regular demonic features replace them, his long, black tail, wrapping around Al’s leg possessively, keeping him close even if he has no mind and strength to actually try to move away. He pulls his fingers out of Al’s lips, letting him lean against him as he maneuvers them gently to the side. The knot will keep them joined together for a while yet and Al’s legs tremble so much that he’s certainly in no capacity to keep the upright position. 

Lucifer’s hand touches over Al’s belly, admiring the perfect bulge that his cock has provided, letting out a low rumble of satisfaction. Alastor has been claimed in every possible way, becoming his permanently and the sole thought makes his Alpha pride puff in his chest that he’s managed to catch and then have such a beautiful Omega, who’s smelling so good with their scents tangling with one another in a sign of their clear union. 

Alastor relaxes against him, letting out a deep sigh as his world slowly stops turning. He presses his bum against him and wags his tail happily, having his head blissfully void of any thoughts at last. The side of his neck throbs a bit but the thorough satisfaction that fills up his veins dims any discomfort. He closes his eyes and lets out a small purr, slowly dozing off as his smile finally resembles a happy one, now that he’s feeling more like himself again. 

The embrace around him is pleasant, the grass bed is soft and the lilies around them smell so intensively that it turns off any unnecessary worries in his head, making him feel warm and relaxed, coaxing him to rest and sleep for a bit before his senses will come back to life once more along with another wave of his heat. 

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is a gentle brush of mouth against his shoulder, close to the mark on the side of his neck. The bliss that fills him up doesn’t let him analyze anything more, though, lulling him to sleep instead and bringing the first good rest in days. 

He isn’t aware when exactly the knot goes down and lets them separate again. He doesn’t hear nor see the instant panic attack that Lucifer falls into once he realizes what they have done, what he has done, having fucked, knotted and bit the previously unclaimed Omega which tied them together for better or worse. He doesn’t remember the moment Lucifer finally calms down and rolls him onto his back, looking over his naked body in deep thought. 

Fucking Alastor was one thing. Knotting and biting him was another, especially during the mating season. Lucifer has to admit that it’s him who’s mainly responsible for this situation in the first place. Al, having barely presented, clueless, scared and as inexperienced as he was, was in absolute no capacity to do anything about it besides at first being a bitch and then slowly turning into a whining, needy mess, just like the instinctive behavior told him to. Still, it was no excuse for Lucifer to jump at him so much, the fact that he had been affected by Al’s pheromones to this extent is mortifying because it suggests that they have that insane chemistry not only when arguing. 

Lucifer leans closer yet, watching the obvious traces of his claim over Al’s body. The side of his neck is bruised, the shape of his teeth perfectly visible which will leave a permanent scar there once it heals, soon alerting everyone around that he’s been claimed and bonded. The sweet scent of strawberries and daisies tangles with the aroma of burning cedar wood and black pepper already. The area between his legs is wet with both slick and Lucifer’s seed still flowing out of him. 

He bites into his lips and touches lightly Al’s cheek, feeling how smooth his skin is. The demon hums in his sleep and leans closer yet, as if chasing unconsciously after his touch with a small purr coming from the depth of his chest. 

“Fuck…,” Lucifer whispers, feeling his face burning. This was not supposed to happen. Not now nor ever. This is Alastor, the most infuriating demon he’s ever met, they literally hate each other. 

And yet, as he looks over him, lying by his side, his red hair sprawled all over the green grass and white lilies, so defenseless and powerless as his thick lashes cast long shadows over his tear-stained cheeks and he lets out those small, precious noises, Lucifer can’t help the faster beat of his heart. 

This is a bad idea from the beginning to the end. He’s married, for fuck’s sake, even if his bond with Lilith has long broken after decades of living apart. However, as he looks over his left hand and a golden band around his finger, he realizes that he doesn’t feel anything anymore. His eyes come back to Al again who rolls gently onto his side and huddles lightly, pulling his knees up to his chest, clearly feeling chilly already and he can’t help a small smile creeping up his face. The red-haired bitch really can be adorable, no matter how ridiculous a sole thought is. 

He doesn’t know if he is ready for another serious relationship but it seems that fate has decided it for him, making them cross their paths in such circumstances. 

He can’t deny that he wanted it too, having been blinded by his desire to such an extent and deep down he is aware that it couldn’t have been only the result of his rut. Any unclaimed Omega in heat would smell tempting to an Alpha but only the one they’re truly interested in are this appetizing and appealing, especially to the point of knotting, biting and, what’s most important, staying, not only until the mating season comes to an end. Lucifer may have never realized that until now but there surely is something about Al that he hasn’t noticed before. Perhaps both of their tempers are to blame here, having effectively blocked it out. Maybe with that bridge burned, them having already been in the closest way possible, they may finally find the same frequency to share and live side by side, making an effort to understand each other better. The longer Lucifer thinks about it, the more he craves this outcome. 

With a heavy sigh, he pushes his arms below Al’s back and legs, picking him up with the intention to carry him back to the room. The grass bed around here is rather soft in itself but after the rough treatment he served Al and the overall exhaustion of the fight and his presentation, he figures that Alastor deserves the comfortable mattress and clear sheets rather than the damp soil and trampled grass. 

Al grunts a bit in his sleep as his head lols limply to the side, pressing against Lucifer’s shoulder so that his pointy nose buries into his neck, right above his scent glands, still swollen and letting out his potent scent, now combined with the sweetness of strawberries and the delicacy of daisies, a scent so unexpected on someone like the cheeky Radio Demon but quickly becoming Lucifer’s favorite, especially that he now knows for sure that it comes right with the taste, making it a ten thousand times better. 

His breath hitches lightly when suddenly he feels the soft brush of Al’s nose over the source of his scent and soon after his purr intensifies as he unconsciously leans in closer yet and his small tail wags weakly behind his back, tickling Lucifer’s groin. 

Lucifer sighs again as his smile slowly turns gentler than before. He presses his cheek against Al’s forehead, rubbing it and scenting him as he walks through the forest, thinking that now they are in this together, whether they like it or not. The mating season has only just begun too and now the perspective of the next few days spent solely together becomes all the more real with Al bearing the mating bite at the side of his neck which indicates clearly that he’s his now and it’s up to him to take care of him during his heat, the thought so abstract that Lucifer still subconsciously waits for the moment he wakes up in his own bed and it all turns to have been just one, impossible dream. 

As much as his rational part hopes for it, he’s not sure, though, if his heart would take it all that well. He certainly doesn’t want to but he can feel that he’s already catching feelings for the demon in his arms, no matter how reckless it might be. 

This is Alastor he’s thinking about here, someone unpredictable and not exactly the best relationship material as far as Lucifer is concerned. The wild soul that doesn’t want to be tied down and kept against his will. Then again, though, the same could be said about Lucifer who is definitely not that good at being in a relationship either, being a little rusty after he and Lilith parted ways. This doesn’t mean that he can’t try, though, especially that the opportunity has presented itself so nicely, even if the person whom the fate decided to connect him with would be the last one he would ever think about in this regard. 

A difficult task is surely ahead of him. He is rather sure that Alastor won’t be exactly pleased once he wakes up and realizes their current situation. The least thing he can do to try and make it a bit better is showing that he cares enough to do the proper aftercare, cleaning him off and providing the comfort and well-deserved rest before the insanity of the mating season takes over their minds again. 

He doesn’t have to wait for long to experience it explicitly because soon after he places Al gently on the bed and disappears in the bathroom to snatch some towel and a basin with warm water, Alastor stirs and slowly wakes up. 

The demon frowns lightly, blinking a few times as his vision gradually clears. He slowly recognizes the red walls of his hotel room and the dim light of the green flames coming from the fireplace, ever burning, even if rather faintly currently. He looks around in confusion, trying to piece together all the fragments he somewhat remembers into one coherent memory. His walk through Pentagram City seems like a lifetime away and all the things that happened later are rather hard to believe. 

He glances down over his body and freezes, realizing his state of undress. The chaotic dreams which seemed like a mere fantasy, suddenly take shape and become something much more real as his hand snaps up to his neck, feeling the scared tissue and hissing at the slight ache the touch provides. 

He gulps as he slowly sits up and looks at his skin and fur, tangled and dirty, along with the bruises already forming around his hips. 

“No, no, no… what the actually fuck…?” He whispers, pressing his back against the bed frame and pulling his legs up, feeling a dull throb in his backside which makes him realize that he hasn’t hallucinated that scene and all of his dreams might as well have been real. His fingers brush gently against his chest, now healed completely. The only remain of it is the long scar cutting across his torso. It’s almost weird not to feel that pulsating pain to which Alastor had grown accustomed to over the many past weeks but overall at least this is  a huge relief. 

His ears twitch when suddenly he hears someone bustling in his bathroom, making him realize that he is not alone in his room as he previously thought. 

His fur bristles and eyes darken but his nose easily detects a scent which makes all the tension in his muscles disappear, no matter how much he fights against it. He pins his ears down, trying to take back control over his own body, especially when the intruder comes out at last and their eyes meet. 

Alastor’s face burns as he closes his legs immediately and presses further into the pillows and bed frame behind him. “What are you doing here?” He barks, seeing Lucifer clad only in the light pink shorts and carrying a towel and water in a small basin towards him. 

Lucifer arches a brow, not minding all the hostility towards him as he comes closer yet in a steady step. “I’m taking responsibility here…?” He says with a note of sarcasm in his voice. Alastor only bleats angrily and inches away from him, casting him a warning glance and keeping his legs firmly together. “Come on, Bambi, it’s nothing I haven’t already seen.” The way Al’s cheeks flush even heavier forces out his gentler side again. Planned or not, this is his new mate now and he will take care of him, even if Al isn’t exactly thrilled about it. 

Alastor turns his eyes away, looking into the green flames of the fireplace instead as the air around his head buzzes lightly. 

“…what exactly happened…?” He asks in a small voice, deep down knowing the answer already but still finding it so hard to believe. 

“You presented,” Lucifer simplifies it all to these two words. “Your heat triggered my rut in turn which forced upon us the unexpected mating season—“

“You fucked me,” Alastor interrupts him in an emotionless tone, feeling the tightening in his stomach as he’s speaking. 

Lucifer only nods with a sigh.

“You knotted me.”

“Correct—“

“You– you bit me,” Al’s voice breaks and turns into a whisper as he huddles further, feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. The sour scent of his distress bothers Lucifer more than he’s willing to admit as his own scent glands swell and let out a soothing waft immediately, trying to ease his anxiety. 

“I know that it wasn’t supposed to happen—“

“Damn right…!”

“— but I’m not going to leave you, Al,” Lucifer finishes his thought, coming closer to the edge of the bed. “Let me at least clean you up, it’s my duty to do so—“

“Duty…?” Alastor whispers, digging his claws into his legs. “I don’t need to be anyone’s responsibility,” he hisses, obviously hurt by the choice of words here. “If this is what it’s going to be, you can leave already, Your Majesty.”

Lucifer curses at his own inability to speak with this demon as he slowly tries again. “I phrased that wrong,” he admits. “What I meant is that I want to take care of you. This is all so new to you. The least I can do is to make sure that you are comfortable…,” no reaction from Al makes him nervous as he starts to ramble a bit. “Let me clean you up a bit, you’ll certainly feel better without all of that soil in your fur.” He smiles when Alastor slowly turns his head back to him and their gazes meet again. 

A few seconds later something that Al sees in his face finally convinces him to allow that as he slowly lies down again, baring his body to him and resting against the pillows. 

Lucifer smiles as he gets down to work, removing all the sweat, dirt, dried cum and slick from his skin and despite Alastor’s unwillingness to do so, he slowly relaxes when the calming scent of cedar wood and black pepper envelops him. His eyes notice a very distinct lack of any golden band around Lucifer’s finger which makes him feel a tiny bit better, even if this might be only a coincidence. Lucifer’s words gain a tiny bit more credibility this way, though which makes Alastor amenable to give him a chance here, even if only for tonight. 

“Better already, isn’t it?” Lucifer asks in a warm tone when he finishes at last, making the last brush of his towel. Al only huffs and turns his head away. “Anything to drink or eat…?” Lucifer offers easily, not able to stop himself from looking fondly over Al’s body bearing his marks so clearly. 

“…water will do…,” he hears a quiet reply and conjures up a glass at once, handing it to Al. 

Alastor thinks that he would rather get drunk on whisky to the point of unconsciousness and forget about it all but the fact that now somehow they’re bonded complicates things severely. He takes a few sips instead which soothe the dryness in his mouth. 

The awkward silence between them becomes uncomfortable which pushes Al to turn on his radio to fill the air with quiet jazz notes and make it feel more normal despite it being anything but. 

“I– uh, I’ll be in my tower for now if you needed anything else, okay…?” Lucifer asks but before he manages to turn around and leave, one of Al’s tendrils wraps around his wrist and pulls him closer, not letting him walk away. 

“Where do you think you’re going…?” Alastor narrows his eyes as he turns onto his side, exposing the fresh mating bite over his scent glands there which nearly switches off Lucifer’s mind again. “And here you were talking about taking responsibility,” he pulls his ears back angrily, tugging on Lucifer’s wrist again and wordlessly inviting him into the bed. 

The Devil smiles wider and more sincere than any other time since this weird situation began as he uses the invitation at once, tucking Alastor beneath the covers tightly. The demon huffs again and inches closer yet, pressing his body against Lucifer which totally surprises him. 

“I’m cold,” he says only and Lucifer doesn’t comment, afraid that whatever he might say will scare Al away again. He can’t help a small smirk though as he unfolds one of his wings and covers them both to keep them warm. 

The mating season is far from over yet but perhaps, in between Al’s heat waves, when their minds are able to work more or less properly, they can start their search for this one particular frequency to share, changing it from their separate ones into one mutual instead much faster than he thought. Who knows, maybe even before their combined rut and heat ends. 

It’s a nice thought, one that makes him brave enough to lean in and place a tiny kiss over Al’s forehead which gains him an angry bleat and the decisive punch to the chest. Al makes no attempt to move away, though and that’s enough for Lucifer not to get discouraged here that one day this weird thing between them might actually resemble what a regular bond is. He’s already looking forward to where this momentary lack of judgment will lead them two eventually. 

Hope can be elusive but this time he’s actually willing to timidly believe that he has finally found what he has been looking for for so long. The small spark of excitement, however foolish, is already there as he lets himself drown in the temptation hidden deeply within that Alastor has been to him for all this time. 

Perhaps they really do have that chance. 

It can’t hurt to at least try.

***

The full of tension silence in the hotel parlor has been dragging on for many past minutes already, making Charlie’s jaws hurt with how much she’s clenching them in the uncomfortable grimace. It’s been hours since her dad went up to Alastor’s room and then disappeared without a trace and a word that everything’s alright with them both. 

Given how absolutely furious Alastor was when he barged into the Hotel and the questionable tolerance that describes his and Lucifer’s current relations best, she’s full of worry and guilt that she ever asked her dad to check on him in the first place. Whilst it’s true that the building still stands, the prolonging silence seems more like a calm before the storm than anything else which makes her additionally anxious. Vaggie has been trying to convince her that there’s nothing to worry about since they are both adults, no matter how immature around one another they usually are. 

“I mean, what’s the worst that can happen,” she asks with a roll of her eyes. “Even if they fight a bit it’s not like they might kill each other, no?” She asks, trying to turn it all into a joke to make Charlie feel better but she doesn’t seem to be successful much, especially when Angel Dust suddenly joins the conversation. 

“Ya completely sure that there’s nothin’ to worry ‘bout…?” He asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a menacing smirk. “Smiles looked ready to explode, blinded by the hormonal rage and well, let’s say, the King has a bit of a short temper himself…”

“Angel!” Vaggie snaps at him angrily. “Not helping!”

The argument is already in the air when suddenly their attention turns to the tiniest demon around who’s been dusting every corner of the parlor for at least the past twenty minutes, listening silently to their conversation. 

Niffty’s tone sounds awfully sure for someone who hasn’t even witnessed Alastor’s anger which certainly would make her change her attitude here. 

“They’ll be up there for a while yet,” she says, wiping the clock placed on the shelf above the fireplace carefully. “It’s about time, after all.”

“What do you mean, Niffty…?” Charlie asks, exchanging a confused look with Vaggie. 

“It took longer than I expected too. Do you know how difficult it is to slip anything into Alastor’s drink…?” She slowly turns around on her heel with a wicked grin all over her face. “But I was sneaky enough!” She exclaims excitedly, swinging her little broom in the air. 

Charlie pales rapidly on her face as she listens to these revelations, feeling her heart speeding up in her chest. “…what did you just say…?”

“Niffty, what the fuck!” Vaggie hisses in shock. “Have you drugged him…?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she waves her broom at her dismissively. “I was only helping the two bad boys to finally get a go at it,” she shrugs, not seeing anything wrong in her actions. 

Charlie looks completely mortified, Vaggie seems too shocked to say anything more and Angrel is getting more amused by every second, already catching on with what she’s trying to say. 

“What exactly have you slipped into Alastor’s drink?” Charlie asks, not sure if she wants to know the answer but not knowing is driving her insane. 

Niffty opens her single eyes widely as she looks her deeply into her own. “A rut inducing drug,” she says in a carefree tone with a wide smile. “Or was it heat…?” She shrugs, clearly not really bothered here.  “Didn’t know if it would be effective with Al being a Beta and all but it seems that it finally worked—“

Her words are interrupted by Angel’s hysterical laughter and the combined what shouted by Charlie and Vaggie in unison. 

“Why— how did you even get something like that…?!” Charlie asks weakly, grabbing her head and thinking that sending her father up there, out of all the people, might have been the worst idea of them all. 

Niffty seems absolutely delighted that she asks that question too. “I have found the other day a very funny place!” She grins, wiping her hand against her apron. “In the entertainment district there is that small, dark alley where they have all sorts of weird things, smuggled straight from the Lust Ring, it’s really wild–“

“And you thought it would be a great idea to buy some of the questionable stuff and spike Alastor’s drink with it—“ Vaggie makes a helpless gesture in the air with her hands, clearly at loss for words. “This is so fucked up!

“Well… at least they are having a good time up there, aren’t they…?” Niffty laughs with a menacing spark in her eye, making a small pirouette in clear excitement. “The sexual tension has been soooo painful already.”

“We won’t see them for a while then, eh…?” Angel chokes out in between his giggles. “Good job, Niff! We were all so fed up with their bullshit already!” He gives her a high five as they both burst into a triumphant laughter again. 

Charlie nearly passes out on the couch as she leans helplessly against Vaggie’s side, closing her eyes with a whine. “Oh dear, this is a calamity, someone tell me this is just a dream, please…”

“Would ya rather dream ‘bout yer dad fucking Alastor though—“

“Angel, for fuck’s sake, spare us the mental imagine!” Vaggie exclaims, on the verge of her own breakdown already. “Oh, I hope he never gets to know that all of this is a result of some fucking drug, out of all things—“

”Actually, it was called a sex pollen—“

”Niffty…!”

Angel only laughs louder, shedding tears already and thinking that he will have so many things to say once Alastor finally gets down here again. That is, if he somehow survives being mated by the King. He is sure, after all, that someone like Lucifer, the top Alpha out there will definitely give the deer the time of his life and he’s all here for the juiciest details of his performance…

One thing’s for sure. Fun times are coming to Pentagram City and Angel Dust is taking the front row seat, not willing to miss a thing.