Chapter Text
“You really should worry more about dear Charlie than me.”
“I'm worried for Charlie. Obviously, she's my little girl. But at least she can't get killed by heaven. She's hellborn, they can't hurt her without breaking our deal.” Lucifer had said, sighing deeply as he sank further into the plush chair opposite Alastor by the fireplace in his room. The conversation was going in circles. Had been all night, and Lucifer was no closer to convincing the stubborn deer to practice even an ounce of self-preservation. “Heaven can't hurt Charlie, but they can hurt you. And I won't be able to stop them.”
“My my, ever the considerate ruler, fearing for your… ‘loyal’ subjects, aren't you?” Alastor replied snidely, sipping on a cup of coffee so dark and thick it looked like tar. Maybe Lucifer should leave. Maybe Alastor would have a better chance of survival tomorrow if he was rested. But he'd have an even better chance of survival if he didn't fight at all. “Almost makes one think you care, perish the thought.”
“Keep dreaming, jackass.” Lucifer replied with significantly less heat than he'd intended. Surely he'd meant for it to come out harsher? He crossed his arms across his chest and glared out the window, suddenly finding it hard to meet Alastor's eyes. “Charlie can't get physically hurt, but she'd still be hurt to see the rest of you wiped out by exorcists. I'm protecting my daughter, not you.”
“Of course, my liege.” Alastor said with mock reverence, placing his cup down on a side table and giving a theatrical half-bow without rising from his chair. He angled his face back up to meet Lucifer's eyes with a sharp smile. “So why are you needling me, and not them?” He asked, and Lucifer's shoulders tensed. “Wouldn't Charlie be just as distraught to see the death of—perhaps—Angel Dust? Or that snake imbecile? Or rather, anyone? Why bother convincing me when the others might put up far less resistance? Your efforts would be better wasted elsewhere.”
Lucifer bit his lip, eyes staying firmly on the window even as his face reddened, and Alastor's smile only grew more smug.
“Yeah, well,” Lucifer tried to recover, glaring back at Alastor even as he searched for any excuse other than emotions. “at least none of the others are planning to go up one on one against the most ancient angel of human origin. At least the others stand a chance if they're properly armed, but you? Your plan is a suicide mission.” Lucifer finally said firmly, the certainty of his words momentarily ringing out in the dim hotel room like a deathknell. Alastor's expression didn't falter. His smile didn't change. He looked vaguely amused, and Lucifer wasn't sure if that was because he was genuinely delusional or just an absolute moron. Either way, it made something in Lucifer's chest tighten.
“Are you quite done?” Alastor asked lightly, and Lucifer drew another deep sigh. For a moment, he contemplated going another lap in their circular argument. But no. As much as he hated surrendering, this was an exercise in futility. So much for trying to save the arrogant sinner who'd somehow begun worming his way into Lucifer's heart like a parasite. But then again, when had Lucifer ever successfully saved anything?
“Yeah, I'm done.” Lucifer said, rising from his seat. He'd done all he could. He'd take comfort in the fact that—at least—Charlie would be safe. “Get your affairs in order, and when things inevitably start going pear-shaped, have an exit strategy ready. It's better to live to fight another day. And…” It was all Lucifer could do to give practical advice, even if he knew it wouldn’t be heeded. His eyes fell back on Alastor’s cup of what could charitably be described as coffee. He'd seen imp blood less black and viscous. With a flick of Lucifer's wrist, the coffee turned into chamomile. Alastor didn't drop the smile, of course he didn't, but he narrowed his eyes at the cup. “Get some sleep. You'll need to be on your top game tomorrow.”
Lucifer left Alastor's room through the door, not even bothering with any flashy magic. He simply walked away, not seeing the brief shift in Alastor's expression behind his back.
-
It wasn't long before Alastor realized Lucifer had been very, very, right to worry.
“You can't do this!” Alastor yelled, his voice a desperate mix of indignant rage and cold terror that he even now refused to acknowledge. He kicked and fought against Adam's hands holding him down against the concrete. If he could only muster his magic back up, he could pull Adam off himself and throw him over the side of the roof. If he could muster his magic, he could defend himself.
But Alastor couldn't. The bleeding slash across his chest was sapping his strength. The microscopic shavings of angelic steel leeched the magic from his body like normal steel leeched warmth. It was like an insatiable parasite within his bloodstream, eating away at the most fundamental parts of his being. He could see the shadows flicker around him, but it was like he'd been cut off. Could no longer control them.
The shadows kept their distance as if even they were repulsed.
“I- I can be of use to you in far better ways than this depraved show of force!” Alastor choked out through the clenched teeth of his desperately strained smile, as Adam pulled at his jacket and shirt. The bargaining was beginning to sound more like begging. He wanted to say he was bluffing, just trying to buy himself time, that Alastor would never submit to taking orders from someone like Adam. But if it'd save him from the immediate threat of the angel's perversion, he'd do it. He'd already sold his soul to protect himself. Alastor was no stranger to desperate bargains. “If you want to take revenge on Lucifer this isn't the way to do it! I despise him, I would gladly help you, just stop!”
“Yeah, likely fucking story.” Adam sneered, finally forgoing the buttons to just grab the front of Alastor's shirt and rip it with a nauseating tearing noise that Alastor swore would echo in his ears for the rest of his life. However short that might be. He felt like he was being skinned alive as his clothing peeled off. Helpless prey, skinned to be butchered and devoured without dying. “You practically reek of angelic magic. What, did Lucifer try to put some kind of ward on you? Some kind of pathetic fucking good luck charm for his new favourite demon pet?”
Alastor wanted to scream. Damn him, damn Lucifer, for trying to keep him safe and only giving Adam the wrong idea. Only making things worse. Making him think he and Lucifer had anything more than an amusing rivalry. At least he could have told Alastor about the ward beforehand.
But that ward was probably also the only reason Adam's blow hadn't simply cut him in half.
Alastor wasn't sure that wouldn't have been preferable.
“I'm not Lucifer's anything!” Alastor snarled, his fingers scrabbling against the ground, trying to pull himself out from under Adam and escape. But his hands were slick with blood and trembling bad. “We can come to an agreement, make a deal! I'll do anything, I'll give you anything, just-!”
Adam tore Alastor's trousers off with sharp raking claws that nicked his thighs, and the words died in his throat. Adam leaned in close, grabbing Alastor's face and squeezing his cheeks patronizingly.
“Oh you are going to give me exactly what I want. You're going to give me a really fucking good time, and you're going to give me revenge.” Adam whispered so close that his foul warm breath puffed against Alastor's face, making him gag and dry heave as the panic dug its claws into his soul. “I can't hurt Lucifer's little bitch, but I can hurt his new slut.”
This wasn't even about Alastor. He was just a tool. A means to an end. Any agony inflicted on him meant nothing so long as it caused even a twinge of pain in Lucifer.
He'd never felt so small.
“Adam.” Alastor forced out through his constricted throat. “You… You can't- you can't do this, you don't want to- you wouldn't want to sully your divinity with a demon's body.” Alastor pleaded, and it felt as futile as bargaining with a tidal wave.
Adam loomed above him, blotting out hell's red skies, and finally, Alastor simply closed his eyes. Like that would make it no longer real. Like if he couldn't see the monster it would go away. Like if he squeezed his eyes hard enough, he would wake from this nightmare.
“Oh fuck…” Alastor heard Adam breathe in sudden amazement, and his breath caught in his throat. Even without looking, Alastor knew what Adam had just realized.
Alastor was a man who always kept his cards close to his chest. He had secrets and he kept them well. Even those who believed they knew him—few and far between as they were—didn’t know everything. In fact, they rarely truly knew much at all. But there was one thing nobody knew. At least not until now, as Alastor lay pinned and exposed under Adam.
Adam laughed. Cold and derisive.
“This must be my lucky fucking day, I had no idea you were a chick!”
Adam's words only twisted the knife buried deep in Alastor's bleeding ego harder. He felt weak, helpless and degraded, and it was all emotions he hated. Emotions that made him feel small. He snarled through clenched teeth, even as his body trembled and tears of mixed fury and terror escaped past his eyelids. He felt defiled and degraded in the most intimate way possible, and Adam hadn't done anything more than strip him yet.
“I'm not a woman.” Alastor managed to speak breathlessly, even as his lungs struggled to take in oxygen. His chest heaved erratically, but it felt as if the air was hollow. “I'm not a woman, you perverted insolent bastard!” Alastor's voice grew to a yell as he attempted to kick Adam off once more. A part of him wanted to scream for help. He could still hear the battle raging way down below. But Alastor knew he'd never survive being seen like this. He wouldn't survive being rescued.
But he wasn't sure he'd survive anyways.
“You are, bitch.” Adam replied, sneering with a sadistic smile that looked so much sturdier than Alastor's fragile mask. He could feel the corners of his lips twitching, his teeth clenched so tight he feared they'd crack, as the tears kept coming unbidden. Like Alastor's body was no longer his own, and didn't have to obey him. “You're just a demon slut with a pretty pussy. Are those tiny baby antlers even real?”
Alastor felt something touch between his legs and his breath caught, but it wasn't Adam’s member. At least not yet. It was his hand, pressed against his entrance, a finger on the verge of pushing inside even as Alastor's tight walls tried instinctively to clench shut in panic. Trying to keep the invasion out.
But it was futile.
One of Adam’s fingers pushed inside, breaching Alastor's most private place, and something within him started to crack. Alastor fought with everything he had against the intrusion pushing inside his tight and unprepared slit, but it was fruitless. He just squirmed under Adam, body tense and breath picking up even further until he was all but hyperventilating. His every instinct, every part of his deer hindbrain was locking up in useless panic until he struggled to even speak. To even protest. To spew vitriol and hate. He could do nothing but lie under Adam and gasp.
“Jesus, you are tight.” Adam growled, roughly pulling his fingers out and spitting into the slit making Alastor shudder with disgust. Adam's finger returned, two this time, working the saliva into Alastor’s most intimate place, rubbing the filthy spittle inside of him as an improvised lube. “I thought all demons were horny freaks fucking in the street, is this seriously your first time getting fingered? You’re taking this like you were a virgin.” Adam mocked, and Alastor's frozen body snapped like a spring.
“Take it out!” Alastor screamed, his hooves kicking against Adam's chest and arms, trying to push him off, trying to dislodge the filthy fingers tearing through his insides. Alastor raised his hands and clawed at Adam's face to try and tear his eyes out, only to realize it was a mask. A helmet.
A sharp laugh drowned out Alastor’s furious protests, and Adam’s free hand grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head with ruthless strength.
Adam pulled his fingers out abruptly with a wet repulsive noise, making Alastor’s entire body shudder. His insides felt somehow simultaneously like a gaping wound and not stretched at all. Not nearly prepared enough as Adam fumbled with his robes and freed his cock, pressing its head into Alastor’s opening, just shy of actual thrusting inside. Alastor’s body was taught, tight with panic and repulsion, far too tight and tense for a penetration to be anything but agony.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Adam whispered as he began to push inside the tight dry squeeze. “He's not even going to want you back once I'm done with you.”
As Adam’s cock pushed its way into Alastor, his fracturing composure snapped altogether. He screamed, his smile shattering, and Adam seemingly took that as cue to forgo any false gentleness and force himself in as deep as he'd go. Alastor felt like his innards were splitting open as they were suddenly filled, stretching and straining in a way they'd never had before. It was utterly and disorientingly disgusting. It was revolting. It felt like he was being impaled, and could barely think through the agony. Could barely breathe, like one of his lungs had been popped on the vile length rammed in-between his legs.
Alastor screamed until his voice gave out leaving him gasping, and Adam hadn't even started thrusting yet. But he was still in.
"Fuck, I think I felt something tear, bitch." Adam whispered, beginning to move his hips back and forth, trying to go even deeper into Alastor's unwilling body. "You really were a virgin." Adam said with cruel satisfaction, his cock scraping against Alastor's insides as they began to wetten with blood. "I can't wait to see the look on Lucifer's face when he realizes I got his new favorite's first, he probably won't even want you back afterwards.”
Alastor didn't give a damn what Lucifer's reaction might be, he insisted to himself. They had nothing. He tried to scream that at Adam, refute every vile insult and accusation, but the words died in his throat. All that came out was a strangled sob. A pathetic sound that felt utterly foreign on his tongue. Vile and degrading.
But the humiliation of crying was nothing compared to the humiliation of what Adam was doing to him.
"Oh fuck, you're starting to feel really good baby." Adam moaned, thrusting his cock impossibly even deeper, making Alastor feel so full and stretched he swore that he could feel it all the way to his throat as he wavered on the edge of vomiting. It hurt, his body straining against the length tearing him open. Adam's thrusts began coming faster, hard and domineering as he moaned in dark satisfaction. "Starting to feel really good now that you're all wet and slippery." Adam whispered, mocking the blood spilling between Alastor's legs and trickling down his thighs from his abused vagina. "Still so deliciously tight, though... You won't be for long.”
“Adam…!” Alastor's voice was so incomprehensibly brittle. So far from himself. He gasped, voice cut off by another hard push into his clenched slit. “A-Adam, stop, you're killing me…”
He had to be. Alastor had to be dying. Why else would it hurt so bad? Adam was ripping him up from the inside.
"I'm not going to kill you, I'm going to send you back to Lucifer all broken and bloodied. You're helping me get revenge, remember? He fucked my wife, now I'm fucking his bitch." Adam jeered, looking across Alastor's naked and trembling body.
“It's not the same! God, Adam, it's not the same! You need to stop!” Alastor begged, voice erratic and stuttering with each rutting motion rocking him against the concrete. The gravel was biting into his naked back, scraping like sandpaper, but he couldn't even feel it. It was nothing compared to the pain between his legs. “Lucifer didn't- Lilith wanted him! I don't—argh!—I don't want to- This is rape!”
“Oh, don't flatter yourself, demon slut. I can feel your tight-ass cunt rippling around my cock, you're enjoying yourself.” Adam said snidely, and Alastor couldn't tell if he was genuinely deluded enough to believe that. That anyone would want this. Would want him.
Adam groaned in pleasure, thrusting deep, his arousal beginning to build towards climax. He ran a hand over Alastor's chest, briefly frowning in dissatisfaction at the two scars that marred it.
"Did you have to get rid of those?" Adam asked with annoyed entitlement, thrusting hard. Almost like it was a punishment. "Lilith had such a nice rack, but you're not giving me anything to squeeze while I fuck your brains out.”
“Fuck you!” Alastor spat, his voice ragged and broken, his throat raw from the screams Adam had torn from it. The disgusting wetness of tears kept running down his cheeks, making him feel small and helpless. But through the tears of despair and terror his pinprick eyes still held fury. Alastor would cling to that fury like a lifeline in the whirlpool of terror. It would anchor him. Fuel him to live for no other reason than spite.
“I am.” Adam replied. His expression shifted briefly, momentarily stopping the thrusts with his cock still deep inside Alastor, as he became lost in thought. The mention of Lilith brought back memories. Angry memories, but memories that gave him a whole new idea on how to stick it to the demons. “You know what I should do?” Adam asked conspiratorially, leaning his face even closer to Alastor's. If Alastor was biologically female, then... "I should cum inside you. Deep inside your unworthy fucking demon cunt. Maybe I'll even do it a few times over." He grinned, meaningly putting a hand on Alastor's skinny naked abdomen. “And then, I'll send you back to Lucifer with a surprise present in your stomach.”
The words hung in the air, piercing over the din of the forgotten battlefield far below, as the implications gradually sank in. Then Alastor's heart all but stopped as he realized what Adam had just threatened.
A pregnancy.
Alastor didn't even know if that was possible, but the very idea felt like being sentenced to the cruelest possible fate. Not death, but the creation of life.
“Please…” Alastor's voice was a fragile rasp. “You can't, y-you can't do that to me!”
“Why not?” Adam mocked. “Lucifer seduced my wife, married her, had their little bitch Charlie together... I'm not gonna marry you, obviously, but I can definitely knock you up. That's fair, right?” Adam said mockingly, triumphantly, biting his lip as shudders of twisted arousal hit him. He thrusted particularly hard, making Alastor gasp, as Adam's cock was forced even deeper into his already painfully full vagina. He felt so horribly full, and yet Adam kept going deeper, like he was trying to hit his cervix.
“Stop!” Alastor screamed, trying to wrestle free with renewed fervour, but it was just as useless as it had been at the start. The exertion only made his head spin and his frantic hyperventilation grow even worse until he felt on the verge of passing out. “Stop, you have to stop! Please! Ah-! Ah! At least pull out before finishing—God—please I'm begging you!” Alastor screamed around the helpless sobs that now came unimpeded, Alastor himself being much too far gone to hold them back. He cried for mercy he himself had never granted.
Alastor punished the guilty, just like Adam insisted he was doing. But this… This was so far beyond justifiable. So far beyond proportionate.
“That's right bitch, protest all you like. Scream for me.” Adam mocked, grabbing Alastor by the hair and pushing his head back against the rooftop. Adam groaned, only further turned on by the sounds of terror and rage, his thrusts coming harder as he panted like a dog.
Saliva dripped from Adam's open mouth onto Alastor's face, mixing with the wetness of tears and sweat, and it was utterly sickening. Adam rutted like an animal, growling possessively. “Fuck, that's it bitch, keep clenching.” Adam moaned, voice domineering and breathy. “You're so fucking hot. You're going to look even hotter with my cum dripping out of you.”
Alastor could feel the cock inside him throbbing, on the verge of spilling.
Adam thrusted harder and harder, scraping against Alastor's insides until the friction burned. Adam didn't stop, just went at it harder as Alastor pleaded. Screamed for him to stop, to at least have the barest shred of mercy to pull out before finishing. But Adam didn't care. Didn't stop.
With one last brutal thrust and a darkly satisfied moan, Adam came. His entire body tensed, Alastor could feel it. Could feel Adam's cock pulsing and jerking inside of him as he orgasmed. Could feel his insides flood with revolting hot semen. The sickening heat of it was settling like a grotesque weight at the bottom of his innards, and it made him gasp and tense. He arched his back off the ground, almost like he could pull himself off Adam's cock, but then he collapsed again, the fight leaving him.
Alastor lay on the hotel roof, naked, spent, and defiled. He barely even registered it as Adam finally retreated.
“Alright, slut.” Adam mocked, chuckling darkly, finally pulling out. His cock was covered in blood and cum, red and white, glistening wetly in the low light. “I'll let you go. You gotta run back to Lucifer and let him know how good i fucked you, after all. He seduced my wife and made her his, I took his new favourite and made him my personal fucking cumdump.” Adam whispered, almost intimately. Adam ran a hand down Alastor's spent and exhausted body, briefly pausing at his stomach. Maybe it was a trick of the light, a nightmarish imagination of Alastor's fraying mind, but he swore he could almost see the slightest swelling already. But that was physically impossible.
It was just the trauma.
Adam laughed, one final act of cruelty, before picking his axe up off the ground. For a moment, Alastor thought the angel would cut his head off.
No such luck.
With one flap of Adam's powerful wings, he took off like a rocket leaving Alastor shattered. Maybe he was leaving to rejoin the battle, but Alastor could no longer hear the sounds of fighting from far below. Had the battle ended already? Had Adam really been so distracted with his use and abuse of Alastor's body as to miss the rest of the battle? Who had won? Had Charlie and the others managed to overrun the momentarily leaderless angels? Had Alastor somehow saved them by being Adam's disgusting distraction?
… Did it even matter?
It wasn't as if that would make what had happened any more bearable. The outcome, even a potential victory, felt meaningless.
Still. With a herculean effort, Alastor pulled himself up onto his knees in a slumped seated position. The concrete rubbed his knees and hands raw as he pulled himself to the edge of the roof, but he could feel it.
The battlefield was quiet. Alastor could see casualties on both sides, but couldn't make out faces. No motion. Whatever survivors might've been had left. There was nothing, just the ground so far below covered in corpses.
Something small and broken in Alastor's brain told him to simply… Slump forward. Tumble off the side of the roof. Join the other casualties splattered on the pavement below.
He gave in to it.