Chapter Text
The world moves on quickly.
It doesn’t stop for death, a meteor, or anything else. It just keeps moving forward.
And a lot can change in six years, the living went from BCE to CE in that short period, animals were somehow connected to wagons and something called a plow?
But some things stay at least similar, the Roman and Han empires haven’t fallen, only expanded.
Still, it was weird. Alastor stood in Gallia of the Roman empire, watching as mortals and horses pass the alley sheltering the demon in the shadows. None of them could see him, thanks to his newfound magic.
Back when Alastor was alive, cobblestone streets like this would have been spotless, all thanks to the hoard of slaves the government kept.
Now, the streets were lined with filth, animal, human, and nature alike. All due to the influx of animal traffic. Alastor could see the slaves still working tirelessly to try to clean up the mess and keep the streets clean, but there was just too much.
Pained cry draws the demons attention down the road. One of the slaves was down, on their hands and knees in front of a bigger, whiter man holding a whip.
Next to Alastor, a hot puff of gold and crimson burats from thin air and the King of Hell appears in the mortal world. Similarly hidden from the living’s sight.
Alastor barely notices the angel’s presence, distracted by the slaver and his own magic had become adjusted to the King’s. It was a constant feeling that he had grown accustomed too.
“Got one?” Lucifer asks, casually resting his hands on top of his apple staff in front of him. As if they aren’t planning a guy’s demise.
Alastor nods, raising his scythe to point at his chosen victim.
He feels the King smirk, “lets go.”
♪───Ｏ（≧∇≦）Ｏ────♪
On Earth, Alastor’s duties differ to what he does in Hell. And Lucifer has made it clear that he is not allowed to kill mortals either. Which immediately dashed the demon’s dreams.
But that was why the angel was accompanying him today, on his first trip to Earth since his death and promotion.
The mortal Alastor had chosen was named Scipio. A fitting name for a bastard like him. His household held a wife and two kids, and it seems his anger wasn’t only reserved towards the slaves under his charge.
Lucifer and Alastor walk through the villa towards Scipio’s office, noting covered holes in the wall, stoic family portraits, and an annoying amount of self portraits.
Next to the large, dark wooden door to the office, the duo finds a life sized statue of their chosen victim. Alastor’s scowl deepens at the ugly sight, and Lucifer cringes, “this guy sure thinks he’s a big dick.”
Alastor snorts at his comment as he shoves himself through the door, “then it will be easy to crack.”
Lucifer watches from the doorway as Alastor’s cold presence floods the room. Their victim sits unaware at his desk for the most part, but even the living can’t not feel the strong, cold presence of a demon.
Alastor stalks across the room towards the desk at a slow, predatory pace. He parks himself behind the slaver and with a moments pause, the demon plunges his claws into the mans head.
Lucifer grins at the sigh, leaning against the door. Alastor wasn’t actually hurting Scipio—physically anyway. His claws went right through with no resistance or blood spilled.
It was Alastor’s way of ‘plugging in’ to appear to his victim and cloud his judgement.
Scipio jolts in fear as Alastor’s form grows. Transforming into something far more dangerous and creepy to a human eye.
But something beautiful in the eyes of Lucifer.
The room grows windy, a reflection of the man’s struggle against Alastor’s control. It sent pens, paper, and ink flying all over the room.
And drew unwanted attention from outside.
Scipio’s oldest son slams the door open and rushes in. Right through the hollow and cold expanse of the King of Hell.
Alastor’s eyes snap open, letting go of the man and letting everything drop to the floor. He backs away slowly before warping through his shadows to appear next to Lucifer.
The King was feeling over his torso, muttering in discomfort. It wasn’t the first time a human had ran through him, but it was a feeling no one, human or angel, wants to feel.
Alastor watches the scene silently before he instinctively wraps his arms around Lucifer’s waist to pull him out of the house through the shadows.
The angel startles, flushing gold as the demon guides him to the dark streets outside. Once he deemed it safe, Alastor lets the King go.
“So, what did you do?” Lucifer asks as he dusts himself off, trying to ignore the other’s gaze.
“Clouded his judgement,” Alastor responds casually, “he won’t be able to make a good decision to save his life. And I cursed the kid.”
Lucifer’s gaze snaps up to stare into the demon in front of him in disbelief, “you did what?”
Alastor’s cold gaze meets the Kings, “cursed him to kill his father and die before he reaches the age of thirteen.”
Lucifer’s brow furrows in confusion, “why?”
There was something cold and dead in the executioners eyes that made the King want to step back when he stepped closer.
“It went through you,” Alastor snarls.
His possessive tone sends a jolt through Lucifers body, eyes widening in more than just shock.
Alastor grins, “and also because I needed someone to take care of him for me.”
Lucifer snarls at the clear amusement in his tone, but settles with a tight smile, “you did well, continue without me.” With that, the King of Hell bursts into flames, leaving the deer alone on the empty streets.
Lucifer’s flames bring him to his room in the palace. All decorated with red, porcelain, and gold. Books, papers, ans duck feathers litter the floor, bed and desk. Rubber ducks, not invented for another eighteen hundred years lay in a giant pile next to the bed.
Lucifer flops belly first onto the bed, screaming a bit into the pillow like some teenage girl before turning to face the pile.
He used to have the ducks all over the palace, but Lilith didn’t like them. So he brought them up here. And now since they weren’t invented for a long time, he can’t put them back out with Alastor in the palace.
Would Alastor even like them? Would he make fun of Lucifer for them?
Lucifer shakes his head, that was not the point…but it does make him wonder why the deer was suddenly so possessive. Alastor would never, normally, do that.
What had he seen in that mortal?