Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Screams crept through his window as Lucifer paced back and forth. The television that he had bought a couple of days ago to keep him up to date with the latest news blared with the voice of a particularly shrill-sounding host narrating the extermination.

His heart pounded harshly in his chest as he watched the Hazbin Hotel get beleaguered by a flurry of exorcists, helpless to intervene. He wanted to bolt towards the scene, grab his daughter and take her as far away as possible, but the contract he had signed with heaven prevented him. His nerves burned from frustration; for an entire month he could do nothing but buzz with the knowledge that Adam had threatened to kill Charlie and that in the next extermination he would target her hotel specifically.

"Come on, come on, come on..." he fretted under his breath, waiting for Adam to slip up. The moment the archangel harmed a hellborn, Lucifer would be free to wipe him off the map. The deal would be broken, liberating him of his divine restraints.

He just hoped Adam wouldn't hurt Charlie.

He twitched after he heard an agonized roar erupt from the TV. His brows knitted in dismay when he saw a buffering, disorienting image of Dazzle plummeting to the ground with Vaggie on his back.

The dragon crashed through the ceiling of the hotel and Lucifer clenched his fists at his side. One of Charlie's guardians and her best fighter were down, leaving her even more vulnerable.

"Fuck," he gritted out. His pacing increased in speed, his hands fiddling absentmindedly. "Shit, shit. Come on, you bastard..."

Unfortunately, his gaze landed on the screen at the precise moment Adam backhanded Charlie and sent her flying through the air. He felt his heart nearly cleave in half at her cry of pain when she violently crashed into the sign of the hotel.

That was it.

Adam had just broken the deal.

A shudder raked through him and he inhaled stiffly. He didn't waste a single moment to unfurl his wings and fan them out.

They sent a swift gust of wind that rattled the entire room. Ducks fell to the ground haphazardly, papers went flying, candles died out with a startled sigh, and the foundation vibrated from the force of his wings.

The most powerful being in all of Hell stood proud, more than ready to delve into a war. His boots thumped as he angrily strode towards the window. Then, without looking back, he took off into the sky.

The wind whipped at his hat and clothes as his wings sliced through it, their impressive strength sending him soaring. Houses and buildings passed below him in an indistinguishable blur, his mind screaming with only one thought: save Charlie.

In a matter of seconds he was in range of the hotel. He raked his eyes over the desecrated area, looking for his daughter and he could have incinerated the entire city when his gaze landed on a distinctive red and gold figure fighting to escape the chokehold Adam had her locked in.

Lucifer has spent thousands of years in Hell, and nothing he had ever witnessed had managed to ignite such boiling, unmanageable fury in him. His body acted on instinct as he shot towards the two figures with unimaginable speed. He pulled his hand back into a fist, prepared to annihilate Adam on the spot.

Suddenly, Adam's eyes landed on him and before Lucifer could stop him, Adam pivoted, thrusting Charlie in front of him for protection.

Lucifer roughly halted, his descent followed by a cloud of rubble and dust. The roof of the hotel brutally shook for a few long seconds. When the earthquake calmed down, the dust slowly cleared out to reveal the image of Adam wielding his guitar against Charlie's neck, the lethality of its blade stilling her in place.

Adam's smile stretched wider when they made eye contact and Lucifer could have sworn he felt actual fire searing his veins. He bared his teeth in a snarl, not needing to see his face to know his eyes had shifted into a fervid, crimson hue that never failed to instill fear in whomever they were aimed at. But, the person he was currently staring at showed no fear. On the contrary, the light in Adam's mask brightened at Lucifer's rage.

His voice was guttural when he growled "Let. Her. Go."

Charlie's eyes widened, either from fear or from his unexpected arrival. She was soaked in golden blood, her hands clutching at Adam's arm and pulling at it in vain.

"Nuh, uh." Adam retorted with a sardonic laugh and yank against Charlie's hair. "I'm not letting little miss sunshine go just because you flashed your little horns at me."

"Oh, no." Lucifer rolled up his sleeves threateningly. "I'm going to flash a lot more than these horns if you don't take your hands off of my daughter this instant."

Both of their faces curled into a grimace, Adam's more intensely.

"Dad, no..." Charlie groaned with what Lucifer could deduce as disappointment, perhaps unease. "Please, say something else. Anything else."

He raised a brow in confusion, the tension of the situation slightly evaporating. "Why? What's wrong with what I said?"

"Ugh!" Adam rolled his head in annoyance, accenting it with a sharp jab of his weapon against Charlie's neck which caused her to yelp in surprise. "Just... shut up, pervert. If you want your precious girl to live then you're gonna listen. Because, I have one hell of an offer for you."

Behind him, strained, agitated sounds rumbled as Vaggie fought against Adam's lieutenant. Fists, elbows, kicks and curses shot left and right full of animus and hostility. Vaggie fiercely tried to reach her girlfriend, but, Lute held her down, one arm missing, barely awake, her complexion shockingly pale and squirming for purchase with an aggressive, raw will that could equal god's.

So, Lucifer was left alone to save Charlie. Resolve settling in his gut, he cracked his neck to one side then to the other.

"You're a dad, right Adam?" he asked plainly, false disinterest blaring from his insouciant demeanor.

Adam's face momentarily twisted in confusion. "Yeah, no shit." he mumbled gruffly. "First man, I'm the creator of mankind, dumbass."

How one someone could be so full of himself, Lucifer still didn't understand.

"Sure, sure," Lucifer nodded in confirmation, his wrath and impatience barely contained. He clasped his hands in front of him, needing to squeeze something. "And as a father," his voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial in its accusation. "how the hell can you make this mistake?"

Adam puffed a breath out condescendingly. "What? Tossing around a kid? Oh, please, she's your brat, how innocent could she be?"

"No." Lucifer ground out, his tone austere from his mind-numbing disdain.

Even from behind his mask, Lucifer could feel Adam's lips press, aggravated. The man truly didn't know who he was dealing with. He was about to find out.

Lucifer's mouth quirked at the edge, amusement growing in equal with his anticipation. His eyes redirected towards Charlie whose face held a specter of emotions ranging from uncertainty, fear, bravery and puzzlement.

"I meant," he honed his attention, intensely staring at nothing but her eyes and he hoped she understood the underlying, covert message. "how can you forget that as a father, you always teach your kid not to take shit from anyone?"

For a moment, only silence could be heard. Then, Charlie's face slacked with recognition. Her eyes widened even further as she remembered their self-defense lessons from when she was little.

Lucifer felt pride bloom within him, his features softening in encouragement.

"The heck? Of course, I didn't forget." Adam spit out defensively. "Too bad your kid decided to start shit with me. I mean come on babe," he addressed Charlie now, not noticing the new, determined concentration on her face. "Did you really think you could win agai-"

His words were cut off as a red puff of smoke blew up in his face, bathing him in gold sparkles and glitter. He coughed, his hands grappling around him and a surprised, irritated yell left him when he noticed the space in front of him was empty.

"Yaaay!" Charlie's voice rang from a couple of feet behind Lucifer. She lifted her thumbs up. "It worked!"

Lucifer craned his neck to look at her and his eyes crinkled at her ebullient expression.

He never doubted her, even for a second, even knowing that the last time she had attempted to connect with her angelic heritage was centuries ago. She had never been comfortable with tapping too much into her power, the possibility that she could be intimidating or scaring anyone with it too unpleasant and distressing of a feeling.

In response, he lifted his own thumbs up with a broad smile, matching her energy.

"Are you kidding me!?" Adam roared and before Lucifer could gather his wits the angel rammed into him.

His hands gripped Lucifer's coat unrelentingly as he slammed him into the wall. Yet, even the full extent of Adam's rage wasn't enough to even bruise Lucifer.

With barely a thought, Lucifer slipped away and reappeared in snake form above Adam. The other shot a beam of angelic light instantly after, expertly missing him. Lucifer only laughed at his fruitless attempt, egging Adam on further.

"So, what have you been up to since Eden?" he asked casually with a shrug of his shoulders. "Gotta say, you've really let yourself go, buddy."

Adam guffawed indignantly. "You? Judging me?" his voice dripped with hate and scorn as he hurled more beams in Lucifer's direction. He grabbed Lucifer's ankle, intending to throw him against the ground only for him to morph into a bird and flap away easily. "You're the most hated being in all of creation!"

They continued this resentful, albeit ridiculous dance, with Adam investing all of years of training and his angelic might into every beam. Lucifer dodged them flippantly, his interest glued sorely by the amusing sight of Adam's disdain spiking every time the archangel failed to hit him.

Despite Adam's excessive, inopportune theatrics, Lucifer had to applaud his relentless gumption. Few people were as rude or hopeful when fighting the literal devil - which was already a low number to begin with.

"Hold still! You slippery fuck!" he gritted out, frustration growing in his throat. "I said, I have a deal for you!"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Whatever it is, not interested." he propped his head back on his arms as his wings glided him out of range of Adam's attacks.

"Oh, you will be," Adam argued with a miffed laugh. "If you want these exterminations to end."

Lucifer resisted the urge to roll his eyes since Adam was the one mindlessly shooting bolts in every direction, but the possibility of halting these annual genocides froze his thoughts.

With a bored sigh, he conceded "Alright." stopping midair, he crossed his arms, directing his attention on Adam expectantly. "What's this deal then?"

To his uttermost surprise, Adam halted, mirroring Lucifer's position. The angel was panting, his wings flapping in an enervated, heavy manner.

"Eh, right. Now, this offer is coming from the higher ups, so shut up and listen."

Lucifer's fingers tightened on his forearms. If Adam's offer truly came from the seraphim, whatever it entailed couldn't be good.

When Adam noticed Lucifer wasn't intending to butt in, he continued "We stop the exterminations, permanently and fully. And in return," his face contorted into an expression Lucifer couldn't decipher, a mix between various, tangled intentions. "- heaven will approve that fuckass redemption crap."

Deciding to ignore Adam's crude delivery, Lucifer instead focused on the impossible deal he had been presented. He refrained from showing any emotion on his face, his apprehension and disbelief strong.

"Yeah, it's a real good deal, isn't it?" Adam prodded after Lucifer made no indication to answer.

"Too good." Lucifer said skeptically. "You can't seriously expect me to believe you people will recognize Charlie's work after you threw her out of heaven?"

"Nah, that was just me." Adam flipped a hand dismissively, slowly descending back to the rooftop. "I don't get it, it's wack, naïve bullshit if you ask me, but Sera wants to give it a shot."

Lucifer followed him down, his hands still crossed, unconvinced. When their feet touched the floor, Adam shook his wings, sending feathers falling around him. Lucifer retracted his own wings, sparing a glance to make sure Charlie and Vaggie were alright and he exhaled in relief when he saw them standing a short distance away next to Lute, their body language askance and distrustful.

Charlie's face was riddled with both confusion and a sliver of dangerous hope, while Vaggie's was twisted in anger. But, what really threw him off, was Lute's expression which consisted of a confident smugness Lucifer couldn't quite place. Her eyes were relaxed and the corner of her mouth was twitched upwards almost imperceptibly which caused another wave of unease to rise in him.

"Alright, tiny." Adam piped in, turning towards him. "You've heard the terms, so what's it gonna be?"

Lucifer took a few steps towards him, his height not stopping him from staring the other down condescendingly.

"Adam, do you really think I don't know how these things work?" he kept his voice low, calm. "Have you forgotten that I dealt with the seraphim eons ago? There is not a chance they will allow heaven's rigid structure to be compromised by letting a sinner up there, and I know they won't risk the chance of a rebellion building against them."

Adam only sighed exasperatedly. His hand reached into his coat and after a few seconds he pulled out a golden scroll. Untying the ribbon holding it together, he let the scroll unfurl.

Lucifer flicked his attention skeptically between Adam and the document. Slowly, he took the lengthy paper from him and began to read it.

After a few minutes, he lowered it, his chest rising and falling deeply. Sure enough, everything Adam said was veritable, heaven would stop the exterminations in favor of initiating a redemption program with a selected individual in heaven to parallel Charlie's in hell. One patron from above, one from below. Heaven and hell working together in unison.

Everything looked perfect, too good to be true, except...

"All you need from me is to choose someone." it was more of a statement than a question.

"Mhm, not really." Adam shrugged his shoulders. "We've already chosen someone, you just have to approve their relocation into heaven's care and jurisdiction."

Care.

For some reason, the word irked Lucifer in a discomforting, ominous way.

"What do you mean care?" 

Adam tipped his head back, impatient and annoyed as though Lucifer's questioning was an unnecessary chore.

"What do you think it means, dude. They become a member of heaven until the seraphim decide whether they deserve to stay or get thrown back in this dump. They're not gonna have free reign, Sera's too uptight about that. They'll be under constant supervision. If they prove that redemption is possible, then blondie over there," he pointed irritatingly towards Charlie. "will be allowed to run her shtick. Think of it as a test run. We just need your signature of consent, so just suck it up and sign."

Adam lifted his other hand and in his open palm a feathered, golden quill suddenly appeared. He offered it to Lucifer, the clear shine of it reflecting his worried expression.

He chuckled insincerely. "And you couldn't pass up another extermination before telling me this, could you?"

"Well, I had to get your attention somehow." Adam grinned cruelly, no doubt delighting in Lucifer's deliberation.

In truth, Lucifer didn't know what to do. He felt conflicted. On one hand, the exterminations will end, Charlie and her friends will be safe and Lucifer's guilt would be assuaged for the future. But, on the other, something was wrong. He couldn't pinpoint what, but millennia of living with the trauma and experience of how heaven handled what they couldn't control or oversee stilled him from signing the paper. It couldn't be that easy, it couldn't be that simple. He didn't doubt that heaven considered themselves virtuous and benevolent, but he did doubt their ability to judge which behavior was virtuous and benevolent.

The person that they have chosen, whoever they were would be under heaven's complete control, out of Lucifer's reach. Whatever happened to the soul that Lucifer would transfer to the seraphim's possession, the consequences would fall on him. Again.

Always, the fault fell on him.

He inhaled, then exhaled slowly, measured. He couldn't sign the contract blindly. His magic didn't detect any hidden, underlying deception in the text, everything appeared authentic and truthful. Which was exactly what unnerved him.

A couple of minutes had certainly passed as Lucifer evaluated the options. Then, his voice bordering on a gravely whisper, he asked:

"Who?"

Adam's smile widened. "One of the worst you have to offer, actually. That's the point. If someone as evil and vile as this one can be redeemed then anyone can. The council got the idea from that little shit-show your kid presented a month ago." another distasteful laugh left him, though this one was tainted with resent. "Turns out that trip wasn't for nothing, after all."

The deal sounded more tempting with every word. Years of suffering and death will be avoided with the price of one particularly vile sinner potentially becoming a better person. All Lucifer would have to do, is sign the contract.

How perfect...

Lucifer's patience was growing thin. Through clenched teeth, he repeated "Who?"

Adam opened his mouth and stopped in that position for a moment. "Ah, shit. Lute," he turned towards her. "what was the name?"

Lute straightened up.

"Valentino, sir."

●

The room was quiet, the sound of Lute's voice echoing resonantly throughout it like an incessant swarm of bees.

Valentino sat frozen on the couch, his gaze locked on the television and his mind reeling from what they had all just heard.

"Hah!" Velvette barked. "Yeah, right. These fucks think they can just decide that?"

"He hasn't signed it, yet." Vox corrected and to anyone else his voice sounded confident, but to someone like Valentino, who had known Vox intimately for decades, the hint of uncertainty didn't pass him by.

Velvette huffed in response, settling back against the cushions. Valentino only spared them a tense glance, disinclined to risk the chance of them seeing his consternation.

His pulse had quickened and his fingers gripped his cigarette with frustration. As far as his control spread throughout hell, heaven was a force an overlord couldn't face and win.

They watched with resigned, helpless suspicion. None of them could have predicted the turn the extermination had taken. They had doggedly saddled themselves in front of the television, anticipating a night of enjoying the hotel get annihilated as they relaxed in their tower, safe and sound. Now, their entire way of life had been flipped upside down with one word, one name.

Valentino didn't say anything. Instead he joined the other two in taut silence as they watched the king weigh the options. The man looked as though he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. His fingers fiddled with the quill, his gaze lost in the distance.

Then, slowly, oh so painfully slowly, Lucifer signed the contract.

Valentino felt his stomach drop.

Frustration, wrath, fury, uncertainty and resolution boiled inside him from the indignation. What gave Lucifer the right to decide his fate? What the hell gave any of them the right to discuss Valentino's future without him even being present?

His jaw grinded and in a flash of white anger he bolted upright. He took long, determined steps towards the closet and thrust the doors open with a growl.

"Val." Velvette called out to him.

"You heard them," he answered, perusing the wardrobe, his voice steadier than he felt. There could be a handful of Valentinos living in hell, but in this instance there was only one clear individual who Adam could have referred to. "if they think they can just barge in here, they've got another thing coming."

Pulling out the flashiest guns he owned, he turned around and cocked them readily.

He felt livid, the brutality he was capable of seared his veins with potential. Not only hadn't he known heaven had been watching him, but they had seemingly analyzed some footage of him and for the past month had hosted meetings to decide his fate for him. That they had planned to haul him up there, take him away from his home, his domain, and strip him of his control without even contacting him. And it had all happened because of one person...

"Don't worry, babydoll," he assured Velvette with a confidence he didn't possess. "I'm not going anywhere. And when I catch that fucking twink who sold us out you'll have enough fur for a new coat."

He meant every word he said. He had been lenient with Angel Dust, too lenient. And now, the whore thought he could free himself not by going to heaven himself - quite aware that filthy trash like him never could - so instead had schemed for Valentino to be taken away.

"Babe, I don't think those toys will do much good." she argued, but it didn't sound patronizing. Not when she was currently pulling out long, thick needles out of her pockets and cracking her joints.

She was preparing for a fight.

"A contract means nothing." he hooked for a more solid reaffirmation, detesting the way control was slipping from his fingers. "They don't have my soul, they can't do shit."

"Then why did they ask Lucifer?" Vox mused, standing up as well. "Whatever they're planning, they don't need your soul to do it."

"Well, whatever it is they're gonna get nothing but a face full of bullets." Valentino retorted.

Just as the words left his mouth, a staticky hum pierced the air.

All three of them turned towards its direction only to see a singular circle forming in the air in the middle of the room. Its white light glowed against the surfaces of the penthouse, embers flickering around it as it gradually grew in size.

Valentino lifted his guns, all four of them expertly aimed at the portal opening in front of them. When it eventually reached the ceiling, he saw two figures emerging through it.

His eyes narrowed in loathing, his companions equally tense and ready to fight. No matter how pointless it may be...

A tall, elegant woman stepped through, clad in violet and white robes. Her hands were daintily clasped and her chin was raised high, proud, regal.

"Valentino," she regarded him coldly. "you have been chosen as the subject in heaven's redemption program ordained by the princess of hell and approved by the council of heaven."

Valentino glared at her, partly astounded that someone taller than him existed and partly from the lingering, debilitating whisper that he could do nothing to stop her. Power emanated from her like invisible mist.

"My, if I knew someone so stunning would come to take me to heaven, I would have called myself." not knowing how to thwart her intentions, he relied on the skills he could wield easily. "Señorita, why don't you sit down with us, have a drink? I can make it worth your while."

Despite his inviting, suggestive tone, the woman wasn't dissuaded. He didn't think she would be, judging by her steel hard, determined demeanor, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to do what he did best and consequently foil heaven's plans.

"I'm afraid not." she turned him down, equally as firm as before. "This matter cannot wait. I'm certain you already know why we're here. So, if you would come with us..." she lifted a hand, palm up, indicating to the path behind her.

The smaller angel next to her stepped forward. Valentino recognized her from the TV footage. Lute. Evidently, while the three of them had been busy arming themselves, the angels had retreated, ending the extermination. Her arm had been miraculously restored and she had a sinister grin on her face, the kind one would find only in hell. Valentino felt his fury increasing from the sight. His anger had always been an unpredictable, volatile thing, but in the midst of a seraphim, it hardly counted as a meager spark.

"Perhaps, we can come to a different arrangement," Vox's always diplomatic voice cut through. "we're open to it if you are."

"This is not up for discussion." the woman persisted and every word out of her mouth fueled the barely contained wrath desecrating Valentino's composure. "We know this is unexpected, but for the good of both our realms this decision must remain non-negotiable."

"Yeah, you're not taking anyone anywhere you skyscraper, aristocratic bitch." Velvette cussed, her patience waning.

The seraphim merely frowned and even that show of emotion felt excessive on her visage.

"Hmm," Valentino bit his cheek, a hateful laugh rumbling at the back of his throat. "I think you're way over your fucking head baby if you think you can take me anywhere with you."

Before anyone could blink, he fired one of his guns. A loud, deafening boom filled the room as the bullet shot straight towards the seraphim's head, but suddenly it stopped midair.

The bullet hung before her face, levitated by her angelic magic. Not giving either angel time to collect themselves, Valentino began to fire. Bullets escaped the barrels with dizzying speed but every single one of them was stopped by that same wall of protection.

When his guns were empty, Valentino snarled.

The seraphim blinked languidly, unbothered.

"I had hoped to resolve this peacefully, but you have left me no choice."

She waved her hand smoothly and Valentino felt his body stiffen. He couldn't move. Looking down he saw his form coated in a thin layer of magic, preventing him from moving his limbs and the gust of trepidation in him morphed into a torrent.

Velvette and Vox grunted on either side of him, both of them stuck in the same torturous limbo. Valentino strained against it, but it was in vain. Even summoning his smoke proved impossible due to the divine energy flowing over him.

The seraphim then pointed at him with two fingers and abruptly brought her hand down.

Valentino clashed to the ground on his knees, a stunned yelp escaping him. He raised his head, sending a death glare towards the woman so lethal and threatening it could have crumpled half of hell's population.

"You... will... regret this." he spat, baleful hatred dripping from his words.

"Lute." she ordered sternly.

The shorter angel stepped forward and smirked down at him. When she brought her hands from behind her back and presented what she had been holding this entire time, Valentino felt the life leave his bones.

In her hands, she held a bright collar made of pure, angelic steel. It was white with a faint glow. The shadows barely danced around it, as though they were afraid of its essence, as though light itself was harbored in it.

Valentino tried to jerk away, but the seraphim's magic was unrelenting. His antennae pinned to the back of his head and his limbs flushed with nauseating adrenaline that made him pointedly aware of everything around him. The mind-numbing helplessness ignited something Valentino hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Fear.

"Val..." Vox's voice called to him and Valentino didn't need to see his screen to know equal fear dotted it.

Valentino continued to fight against the restraints, but ultimately he could do nothing but watch, terrified and wrathful, as Lute clasped the collar around his neck.

Immediately, he felt the infernal power leaving his core, pushed down by the angelic item locked around him.

The magic freezing him in place dissipated, causing him to fall forward. He barely caught himself, his arms shaking uncontrollably.

His hand trembled as he tentatively lifted it towards his neck. The collar was tight; it barely allowed two fingers to slip under it. The way it pressed around him and its heavy weight made it impossible to ignore. It was thick and broad, even the generous fluff around his neck couldn't hide it.

Rapid, panting breaths left him, his panic rising exponentially. No matter how much he tugged, it wouldn't come off. The steel was the firmest, most durable material he had ever felt and it caused the sea of fear in him to crash against his durability. Velvette and Vox were talking, or perhaps they were shouting, he couldn't hear them over the harsh ringing in his ears.

The only thing keeping him tethered was his burgeoning anger. Sharply, he snapped his head up with an intimidating lour.

"You..." his voice was more guttural than he had ever heard it before. "have no idea who you're dealing with."

Despite the grueling menace in his tone, the taller seraphim didn't show any anxiety or dread. But, if Valentino knew something, it was how to read people and beneath that stoic demeanor, he could have sworn he sensed a flicker of remorse, however small it was.

"It's time to go." she said quietly.

Valentino lifted a hand and tried to summon a tendril of smoke to strike her, but the moment he did an unfathomably violent blizzard of pain shot through his entire body.

He crashed to the floor, his hands blindly reaching for the collar burning his neck. It felt like his skin was melting and the agonized scream that tore through his throat convoluted his senses further. This wasn't the pain born from electricity, nor was it the kind delivered by fire, but an indescribable sort of agony that mercilessly scorched every nerve in his body.

Vox had been right. Now, Valentino understood why they hadn't asked for his soul...

Because they didn’t need it.

The pain was nothing like he had ever felt before. Divine light seeped into his blood like poison, disintegrating his hellish biology. The metal was unyielding. Panic seized him. Oh, god, the pain was unbearable. He didn't know it was even possible to feel pain this brutal.

Seconds or perhaps minutes could have passed with him helplessly clawing at his throat, desperate to break the collar but all he did was tear new wounds into his skin. He didn't even feel them, drowned out by the unfathomable agony destroying his neck.

It wasn't long before he felt his consciousness slipping, the pain crushing his will with astounding efficiency. He couldn't focus on anything around him, swathed in a heavy sea of torture. His lungs begged for air, blood coated his hands from the injuries he inflicted on himself and his limbs violently spasmed from the pain, out of his control. Darkness descended over the corners of his vision and the last thing he heard before he passed out were the voices of Vox and Velvette screaming his name.

Chapter Text

Velvette and Vox could do nothing but watch, paralyzed in place, as the seraphim took Valentino's limb body through to the other side. The moment the portal closed and the magic restraining them vanished, they slumped forward.

The sound of their shoes scraped against the floor tiles as they balanced themselves. Velvette's entire body felt like it was on fire. Adrenaline coursed through her veins in equal with her unquenchable anger.

"We have to get him back." she stated bluntly, incensed beyond belief.

"Fuck," was Vox's response, venom marring his tone. "How the hell did any of this even happen?!"

With a huff Velvette conceded, turning away. She stalked towards the space Valentino had dropped unconscious and frowned. The marble was marked with numerous, disfigured claw marks; blood stained it from the wounds he had torn into his neck in an attempt to get the collar off.

She averted her gaze, unable to look at the scene without the risk of exploding with fury. His screams still echoed in her mind; they weren't the kind that resulted from pleasure or the kind accompanying one of his temper tantrums. They were screams born from unadulterated pain.

"We know how this happened." she took hurried, brisk paces around the room, one of her hands rubbing her brow in frustration. "That toy of his ratted him out."

She would never say it, but Valentino had always impressed her. And she couldn't imagine how gruesome and unbearable the agony has to be for someone like him to helplessly writhe and scream the way he had.

It was an image she had never thought she would see and now that she has, she didn't know how to rid it from her mind. It stuck to the front of it like a leech, his expression of anguish firmly implanted in her memories.

"No, I don't think so." Vox said, sitting down on the sofa with a scrunched up, nervous expression. "Angel's just a sinner, no one would listen to what he wants. Especially not the seraphim."

She growled, rounding on him. "Goddammit, Vox! This changes things! Everyone will know we are down one Vee, how long do you think it'll take before they start picking us off like vultures?"

Her mind was reeling, emotions tumbling over each other so fast she couldn't properly grasp any of them. So she hooked on to the one that was easiest: anger.

"You don't think I know that?" he replied, his voice far too steady for her liking. "There will be strays snatching for scraps of power, so we'll need to take over Val's department immediately. Make sure everyone stays in line."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she threw her hands up, her voice getting louder and louder. "We don't need to take over his damn department!? We need to. Get. Him. Back!"

"I know!" Vox's voice increased in volume as well. His own composure looked frazzled now, despite his efforts to appear collected and rational it was clear this unexpected turn of events had shaken him. "I know, but until we find a way how, we have to take care of our own."

Velvette squinted, Vox's persistent, though insincere indifference grating on her. His head was bowed low, his gaze evading hers in what she could only assume was a mix between dread, contemplation and confusion.

"How are you so calm about this...?" her tone dropped to a quiet hush, the silence in the room amplifying it. "You fried the whole city with your hissy fit for that radio guy, but when something happens to your boyfriend you sit like a fucking tart! They grabbed him right in front of us and are taking him to god knows where. They put a fucking collar on him and tased him like a dog! Aren't you mad?"

"Of course, I'm mad." he answered plainly, his left eye swirling.

"Well, start acting on it." She took a few steps closer to him, her slippers clinking intimidatingly. "Because, I think it's pretty fucking obvious how we get him back."

Finally, he lifted his head.

"Go on."

She took a deep, steeling breath. "I don't know about you, Vee, but I'll bet my entire summer collection that those freaks at the hotel had something to do with this."

The corner of Vox's mouth twitched, unconvinced. "I don't know. It's too simple. You saw Lucifer when he signed the contract, he was hesitating."

"Lucifer wasn't the one who went to heaven though, was he?" she disputed curtly, and if smoke could have steamed from her ears it would have. "It was the princess and her sweetheart. Whatever happened with the council I don't think she was there to redeem Angel Dust. She was there to get rid of the guy who owns his soul." a deprecating laugh bubbled out of her, full of scorn. "You gotta hand it to the slut, he knows which crowd to meddle himself in."

A couple of seconds passed between them. Vox didn't break eye contact, his face morphing into multiple expressions, all of them tainted with confliction.

"If she did, then she's the world's best negotiator." he began carefully, rising from his seat. "Vel, I'm not sure. Angel and the princess might want him gone, but why would the seraphim agree? Val's a great commodity, but to stop the exterminations in exchange for just him? It's not adding up. They don't even know him - well, unless he's managed to piss off everyone in the universe, but he seemed just as surprised as we are."

She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders, directing his attention on her.

"I know. It's insane. None of this makes any sense. What we do know is that those angels won't hold back on hurting him if they have to. That's why there's only one thing we can do now to get him back."

Vox's head tilted slightly, expectant.

Velvette squeezed his shoulders, her voice as firm as steel, devoid of emotion, when she said "We need to pay the princess a little visit."

●

Darkness shrouded his vision. His body felt foreign, as though it was leagues away from his mind.

Awareness slowly crept back to his senses. As it did, Valentino got increasingly more aware of the pain in his neck. If he didn't know better, he would have guessed someone had wrapped a hot iron rod around his throat.

He gulped in an attempt to draw himself back to the present. The pain surging through him gradually ignited his memories to come back to him and he nearly startled when he recalled the events of the previous night. The sharp jolt of adrenaline urged him to open his eyes. Light flooded his vision and he immediately shut them closed again. A groan of discomfort left him. He tried to open his eyes again and, blinking rapidly, let them adjust.

The first thing he saw was white. No identifiable people or furniture, only white. Though, in the corner of the room he could vaguely discern a square-shaped, gray object, but apart from that the area was scarce. After a while, he understood why his vision was so murky and unfocused - someone had taken his glasses.

He huffed, more annoyed than anything. He craned his neck to the side, testing the stiffness in his muscles. As his senses returned to him, only then did he notice the agony singing his wrists. His top pair of arms were pulled taut above him, suspending his body by thick, steel manacles while the lower pair were chained behind his back. When his fingers instinctively dug into his palms he noticed his claws had been filed, leaving him without even the most primal of defenses. Another set of shackles tied his ankles together, preventing him from kicking out, and his wings were pressed tightly behind him by loops of chains the way one might carelessly pack up a carpet. His wings were already extremely sensitive and the weight of the metal sent sparks of fresh agony shooting through his back.

Besides the pain that came from his body being held sorely by his wrists, the thing that truly hurt and nearly caused him to arch from the strain was the chain connecting his lower wrists to the collar around his neck. It bent his elbows in a ninety degree angle, both limiting his mobility and choking him.

The sound of his heavy breathing infused the air, the difficulty to inhale further exacerbated by the muzzle strapped over his face. By the feel of it, it was more of a perforated piece of metal that only left his eyes unobscured. It slid under his jaw, preventing him from opening it which reduced his speaking ability to agitated grunts and huffs. The straps had been locked tight around his head, their edges digging painfully into his flesh.

He grit his teeth in irritation, his ire growing as his cursing was muffled by the muzzle into unintelligible whining. He twisted his body, but all he managed to accomplish was to grate the manacles further into his skin.

He struggled for a few more minutes, the chains clanking angrily with his movements. Ultimately, he stopped, his efforts to wiggle free futile. Sweat beaded his brow and his chest heaved from the exertion. His instincts kicked in and he unfurled his fingers, ready to summon his smoke when a sudden warm sensation tingled against his scorched neck.

He froze. The memory of how the collar had nearly sliced his head off from the intensity of its power made his pulse quicken. He inched closer to summoning his smoke and a chill ran down his spine when the heat of the collar began to increase. 

Against his better wishes, he stilled his powers. As he did, the warmth of the metal subsided and he unintentionally exhaled in relief. He really didn't want a reminder of last night - or rather of the night the angels took him which could have been who knows how long ago. Pain was an old friend to him, and an even older enemy, but nothing Valentino had ever seen or experienced could hold a candle to the obliterating fire the collar was capable of. It caused pain as though that was its only purpose, as though that was the sole reason for its existence.

...which it probably was, judging by how it still evoked goosebumps on his skin with just its ominous presence. It carried the promise of pain, making it impossible to ignore and it shook the very depths of his soul in a way he didn't know was possible.

He felt his gaze narrow, vindictive. So, that's how this was going to be. He would be controlled by a piece of metal, unable to fight back.

All four of his hands tightened into fists, his fury bubbling to the surface. If they thought they could tame him like an animal on a leash they have another thing coming. Briefly, Valentino wondered if they were truly aware of just who they had locked up, if they knew the extent of his depravity, the lengths he has crossed to achieve power and to preserve his status, the countless people he has betrayed, killed and wounded in so many ways he could write an entire book by listing them.

Were they aware they had abducted one of the most dangerous overlords that has ever terrorized hell?

A part of him said no, since no smart person would even dare to imagine antagonizing him, but another - more unhelpful voice - told him yes. The more he hung in the room, helpless, the more convincing the second voice became. These angels had clearly planned this for a long time.

Suddenly, a creaking sound erupted from behind him, waking him from his musings. Reflexively, he twisted his head towards the footsteps approaching closer.

"Rise and shine!" an aggravating voice boomed, increasing Valentino's lingering headache and causing him to wince. "Look who's finally awake. It's about time, sleeping beauty. You've been knocked out for hours."

That explained Valentino's previous question about how long he had stayed here.

Adam walked into his field of view as a blurry yellow-purple silhouette, and next to him followed a smaller gray figure with white hair. The man had taken off his mask, revealing messy brown hair and a face that looked strikingly human.

"So," Adam sighed, settling his hands on his hips and staring Valentino down. "quite the pickle you've got yourself in, huh? Oh, right! We did that!" a loud, boisterous laugh left him. "You must feel pretty pissed right now."

In response, Valentino snarled wordlessly.

What he didn't expect, was the harsh slap across his cheek immediately after. His head snapped to the side, momentarily disorientating him, as blinding pain flashed in his face. 

Adam was stronger than he looked.

"Eh, should have expected that." he grumbled, shaking his hand before putting it back on his hip. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna tolerate it, though. Alright, sucker, here's how it's gonna go."

Adam stepped closer, and if it weren't for the chains restraining Valentino he would have torn his face clean off. His body automatically tensed, the vulnerability and powerlessness from his predicament eliciting the natural reaction.

It was a mistake. Adam grabbed his chin and yanked his head forward, keeping him in place. He was shorter than Valentino, but it didn't stop him from putting their gazes on equal level. His grip was unshakeable.

He was a temperamental one then - Valentino noted in his mind.

"I don't care what life you had down below, or who you were." his voice dropped low, his face inches from Valentino's in a way that twisted the intimacy into invasive aggression. "Because from now on, you belong to us. So, if you want to avoid any more shocks like the one Lute gave you, I suggest you learn how to behave, okay?"

Valentino's jaw grinded, his inability to sink his claws into the other's neck desecrating his self-restraint. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had spoken to him like this, or manhandled him so brazenly. Everyone was too terrified to do so.

Adam's arrogance, his confidence that he could treat Valentino as though he was a newly-dropped sinner caused his mind to vibrate. His sense of awareness skyrocketed, making him pointedly aware of everything around him.

"You will not disobey. You will do everything and anything that I or Lute tell you. That shiny collar you have on, won't let you try any shit, so if you even think about hurting either of us," he sliced a clean line beneath his chin with his palm. "Zap! If you step out of line? Zap. If you try to run? Zap. If you talk back? Zap. If you don't do what we expect from you? Zap. You get the gist."

"Sir," Lute broke in, her voice monotone and orderly. "the seraphim ordered us to debrief him about his purpose here."

"Oh, yeah. Right." he humorlessly giggled, putting a finger to his chin. "I mean, sure, I suppose that's the real reason. See, freak, you're here because you're supposed to be redeemed. Sera actually thinks sinners can be saved, which is kinda sad to be honest."

Valentino refused to show any other emotion besides controlled rage. How they were audacious enough to even think they could force him into a redemption program was beyond him. The muzzle was a clever choice, evidently they had deemed his ability to weave words a formidable tool. If he wasn't silenced, he could nullify Adam's boldness with impressive ease. 

Whatever had convinced them they could handle him, Valentino swore to snuff it out like a match. Their plan will fail miraculously and he will enjoy watching their confidence crumble to ashes.

"Now, I think it's a load of horseshit. You people shouldn't be anywhere near heaven. The only reason me and Lute agreed was... well, it was for fun."

Adam's fingers tightened on Valentino's chin and if it weren't for the muzzle, blood would have started dripping down them. But, it wasn't the hand at his face that drew Valentino's attention, it was the one that had started brushing his side.

The lack or ventilation and the aftereffects from the previous night must have dulled his senses more efficiently than he thought, for he just now realized all he was wearing were boxers. The shock caused his fur to stand on end.

He couldn't remember the last time he wore boxers. Someone had stripped him of his expensive clothes, then cheaply covered him up for the sake of modesty. Rude.

With that realization, and the surprise of Adam's touch, an inexplicable coldness fell over him. 

"Heh, it's a pretty solid change of pace. After a few thousand exterminations, a guy gets bored y'know. And this redemption gig the seraphim are letting us run is a guarantee for fun all year round. Shit, I can do whatever I want whenever I want to you, no need to wait a whole fucking year to blow off steam, right Lute?" he elbowed her lightly, before returning his hand back to Valentino's side.

"Correct." she replied briskly, her posture straight and unmoved. "Although, the slave hasn't earned that information yet?"

The slave.

That told Valentino everything he needed to know.

He fought the urge to snap at them, aware it would get him another slap or worse. He just wished they would completely skip over Adam's conceited monologue and spare his ears the suffering.

"Darn, yeah. Shit, you're good at this." his hand wandered over to Valentino's back and he used the leverage to pull him even closer. "Which is very bad news for you. Long story short, we're supposed to redeem you, help you see virtue - or whatever, by teaching you the value of humility, but really it's just gonna be good old torture. And since scum like you can't get redeemed, you're gonna be in for a heck of a long ride."

As Adam spoke, Valentino saw Lute slowly meander behind him. His breath stuttered when she grabbed the chain connecting his wrists to the collar and pulled it. His throat was already bruised, burned and sore, and the added strain thoroughly eliminated his gnawing fatigue.

It didn't take long for him to start breathing heavily. His limbs spasmed sporadically, his nerves setting ablaze.

"You're probably thinking this is a load of nonsense." Adam persisted. The way his hand drew Valentino's body forward, while Lute's cruelly stretched the chain back, depleted his ability to inhale. "That you're gonna get out of here in no time and resume your little overlord shtick like nothing happened. Little advise, buddy. For your own good, kill that delusion right now and save yourself the disappointment."

Valentino tried not to trash as Lute's grip progressively tightened. While asphyxiation couldn't permanently kill him like an angelic blade could, it could still bring him to a temporary death which was always too agonizing to risk.

Instead, he kept his gaze focused on Adam's face, rationally keeping his expression on the border of attentiveness and away from hostility. Fighting back would benefit him in no way currently; best to store his ammo when he needs it and, hopefully, avoid unnecessary pain. It's not the first time he's been kidnapped, if nothing else he knows at least that his best bet would be to bide his time in such exigent circumstances until the slightest leeway for escape presented itself.

"Oh, yeah. You didn't really think we don't know who you are?"

Suddenly, Adam's claws sunk into Valentino's skin. He barely managed to restrain a yelp, but he couldn't help the throaty groan pulled from him when Adam's fingers began to slowly rake long, deep gashes in a horizontal line on his lower back.

He felt blood drip down from the new wounds as heat and pain laced through his body. In any other scenario, the treatment from both of them would be undeniably sexy, but he knew they didn't share his train of thought.

"We did our research, Valentino." he practically spat his name like something dirty on his tongue. "We know who you are, what you are, and what you've done. I mean, jeez, your criminal record is almost as long as Lute's number of kills. Which is a lot. The princess was insanely annoying, but if it wasn't for her the council would have never gotten a look at you. That little display you pulled at the club was enough to convince them to give you a shot."

The club. There were infinite possibilities that that could align with; he frequented hell's nightclubs more often than he occupied his own penthouse. Picking his memories apart, Valentino narrowed down the one Adam's description matched. There was only one that had the correlating thread between him and Charlie's endeavor to heaven: the night that Angel had stood up to him. 

For a moment, he wondered whether it had all been a ruse. After all, Angel hadn't defied him so confidently in years. Had he purposely accosted Valentino knowing heaven was watching the entire thing to prove a point?

His gaze unfocused, his mind zoning out as he put the pieces together.

Angel... had planned this for months. He had finally grown a spine, he had moved the first chess piece against an opponent who didn't know he was playing a larger game.

It made Valentino feel like a fool, and some deep, buried part of him was almost impressed and he would have admitted it if it wasn't overflown by a river of lava and wrath so harrowing and dangerous it could have incinerated hell's entire landscape.

He had underestimated Angel. He had grown comfortable in his security and control that he had failed to notice the masterful subterfuge the other slid right under his nose. The betrayal didn't exactly sting, it wasn't a light sensation nor was it an overbearing one, but a disquieting, eerie sense of dread that burrowed deep in his soul. The kind that would not fade easily, or ever.

"You bet your ass the council did some digging after that. Unfortunately for you, they decided to let her "redeem"" he quoted mockingly with his hand. "Angel Dust, since it seemed to work somewhat, but they needed further proof that redemption is even possible. That's where you come in."

Shifting his hand from Valentino's back, Adam reached behind him and retrieved a blade. By the glint in the light and its unnatural shine, Valentino could tell it was angelic steel.

His heart skipped a beat when Adam pressed the knife against the center of his chest.

"As for me and Lute, we don't care what their reasoning is, as long as we get to do this." he pushed the blade forward into Valentino's skin.

A sharp exhale left him. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists in an attempt to stave off the pain from ensnaring his senses. He tried to focus on the deliciousness of it instead, the way the blade invaded his flesh, the warm trickle of blood down his abdomen and the fiery, electrifying thrill that accompanied the danger.

He ignored the fact that it would leave ugly scars. He also ignored with preternatural aptitude that he didn't have a choice in any of it.

"We don't care who you are. In fact," behind him, he heard Lute draw a blade of her own and his wings bristled with anxiety. "you might as well forget it too. Whatever your name was, it doesn't matter anymore, it's not yours now. You are what we decide you'll be."

As the blade in his chest carved jagged lines in a disjointed pattern, the one at his back prodded at the injuries Adam's claws left, opening them up further. Breathing was already a difficult task, but with the continuously inflicted cutting it became almost impossible.

"Oh, Sera's so not gonna regret this." he gasped, exhilaration running through him.

Adam was giddy with his torment, more focused on boasting about how successful this entire project was. Lute however, was impatient, as though she had been waiting with bated breath to do this. She didn't give him a chance to catch his bearings, each slice and tear followed swiftly one after another with no reprieve. Messy, but thoughtful compared to skilled, but reckless.

Unable to spare him more misery, Lute spoke "We're doing hell a favor by taking you out of the picture." a particularly harsh gnash of her knife near his right wing caused him to jerk. "Those filthy sinners down there are probably crying tears of joy now that you're gone."

Her words rang true. Valentino couldn't refute them, but he could confidently claim everyone's joy wouldn't last. He didn't plan to remain here for long.

Resolve settling in his gut, he honed his focus on the numbing, violent pain in his body. He craned his neck back and smoothed out his expression, ordering his common sense to sulk at the back of his mind while his baser instincts took over.

The sensations were overwhelming. The collar choked all the air from him, the rest of the chains immobilizing him to a mind-numbing degree, and the blades cleaved his skin open with no restraint. The helplessness. The anguish. The loss of power. It was as terrifying as it was freeing.

His muscles subconsciously flexed and his body pressed further into the blade in his front. It produced a startled yelp of pleasure from him. Whether the other two noticed its nature, he didn't care, all of his attention was stolen by the levitating, crushing fear tingling his nerves.

His skin must be a labyrinth of lines by now, soaked in blood and sweat. They were ruining his body. His entire career was built on it and depended on it and they were marring it like it was worth less than a slab of meat.

Adam continued to speak gibberish, but Valentino's mind was elsewhere. At some point his eyes had closed, the darkness amplifying the pain that gradually began to turn into pleasure. Except for Vox and Velvette, he wouldn't let anyone else have such control over him. And, oh, how satisfying it was to occasionally resign the rains, to let someone else manipulate the situation and momentarily relieve him of the burden.

"The hell?"

He must have made a noise, because Adam stepped back with a jump.

Opening his eyes, Valentino lowered his head and sure enough a tent had formed in his briefs.

Behind him, Lute also halted her work.

"Dude..." Adam's expression flicked between confusion and disgust. "Literally, how...?"

Valentino blinked away the daze, sharpening his vision. He couldn't help his amusement at the other's unplanned discomfort and he raised a cheeky eyebrow at him, daring him.

Lute huffed from his left as she cleaned her knife with her uniform. "Disgusting..."

Feeling bold, Valentino winked at her in response and delighted in how her expression twisted further with repulsion.

His skin might be on fire and his limbs might be a trembling mess, but in hindsight this entire torture session was child's play compared to the things that happened in his studio. He wasn't the overlord of lust by name alone.

If there was anything he knew, it was how to navigate the tangled webs between pleasure and pain, to decipher what someone would like and what would deter them. He's had a lifetime to master that skill. And clearly, these two hadn't expected their sadism to be received so readily. If Adam and Lute had truly done their research, they would have known some restraints and a little bit of knifeplay would only spur him on.

A satisfied chuckle danced at the back of his throat. He might have sustained damage to his body, but at least he knew now what his path for escape would be.

Evidently, Adam didn't appreciate his unshaken composure because his face instantly morphed into a vile, angry grimace. Before Valentino could blink, the other violently punched him in the stomach.

His entire body swung to the side, the sound of his chains rattled through the room. The force of the blow knocked all the air from his lungs, causing him to cough and heave. If it weren't for the manacles holding him up he would have toppled over.

"Fucking bitch." Adam bit. Pulling his hand back into a fist, he landed another hit to Valentino's abdomen. "How'd you like that?" he hurled two more punches in swift succession.

Pain bloomed through Valentino's midsection, but he pushed it aside. Instead, through panting wheezes, he managed a loud, lewd moan.

As expected, Adam staggered back in surprise again. 

For the first time, Valentino was glad for the muzzle as it obscured his shit-eating, victorious grin.

"Perhaps, another shock will remind him of his place." Lute suggested through gritted teeth. 

Adam placed his hands on his hips again, his mouth pursed in thought. After a minute, he clicked his fingers.

"No, you know what?" he decided, wringing his hands for emphasis. "Let's leave him for a few days. It might calm him down a bit, give him time to cool off."

Valentino squinted, slightly taken aback by the other's level-headed shift in attitude. He released a pensive hum. For all of his puerile, ignorant jabbering, Adam was versed in the field of dealing pain. He was the leader of the exterminations for thousands of years so it's no surprise he's picked up a few tricks. Leaving Valentino alone for days without food, water or entertainment, strung up by chains and unable to move an inch, was the best decision he could have settled on.

They will exhaust him, tune down his defiance and break his durability, before even starting with the actual torture. Clever.

Lute straightened up, huffing, but besides that she made no objection.

Adam smoothed out his robe and took a few steps towards the door. "Oh, and another thing,"

Suddenly, blinding, fierce pain erupted in Valentino's lower back. He cried out, a raw, grating yell that echoed through the room. His arms instinctively pulled him forward to escape the agony, but to no avail.

Adam twisted the knife he had buried in his flesh, eliciting another cry from him.

"Something to think about while you wait." he whispered and Valentino didn't need to see his face to know it held a malicious smile.

And just like that, Adam left the blade in his back and walked out with Lute close at his tail. They wordlessly turned off the light, bathing Valentino's surroundings in darkness, and closed the door behind them with an ominous boom.

Finally, the room was quiet. Valentino allowed himself to slump, no longer required to maintain a façade. The silence potentiated the pain, the sound of his blood dripping on the cold floor below the only interruption.

He tried to steady his heartbeat, confident that this was only a temporary inconvenience. As he hung there in the icy, pitch black dark, the only thing he could do was repeat that affirmation internally like a mantra.

He will get out. He just needed to endure the torment, try to mitigate any damage to his body, and wait for the opportune moment.

He will get out of here...

Chapter Text

One hour.

That's how long it took for Valentino's studio to succumb to utter chaos. One portion of his workers had gathered like a loud, aggressive mob outside Vox and Velvette's offices to absolve the uncertainty of their current employment - or rather, dubious unemployment. While the other, larger group, had decided to wordlessly abandon ship now that the cloud of Valentino's control no longer hovered over them.

Whatever plans Velvette had discussed with Vox about getting the moth demon back had to be put on hold in favor of managing his employees. While she handled the ones who actually wanted to stay and assured them that Valentino was still, without a doubt, their boss - Vox was busy hunting down the ones too stupid to believe they could escape the clutches of a Vee. They expertly kept secret what happened with the seraphim and how they had no virtual idea where Valentino was in heaven or whether they'll even see him anytime soon.

Or ever...

Velvette refused to allow her mind to linger even on the whispers of that possibility.

Surprisingly, the most aggravating, obnoxious task was to ward off Travis' persistent, delusional attempts to take over the studio since he - in his embarrassingly cocky words - was the most eligible for the job as Valentino's top script writer. Velvette didn't know what universal force prevented her from ripping his eyes out after the hundredth time she snapped "No!" at him, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. 

Eventually, she decided to appoint Summer as the temporary manager, much to Travis' dismay. Hours wasted on impudent, out-of-line morons that could have been invested in actually fixing this whole mess.

Even now, as she sat in the limo next to a solemn, brooding, very pissed off Vox, she couldn't lift her head up from the notifications blowing up her phone. It had all happened so suddenly. From the moment Adam had announced heaven's proposal to the moment they entered the car the entire day was a hectic, anxious blur. They didn't even have time to arm themselves properly before the seraphim invaded their home; the memories of them taking one of the most powerful overlords in hell as easily as carrying a ragdoll blazed in Velvette's mind.

It had all just happened so... fast. Their entire way of life shattered in less than ten minutes.

"Remind me next time we go to an overlord meeting to give Zeezi a piece of my mind." she grumbled, her fingers typing furiously on the screen. "This is the ninth time one of her furries tried to claim the studio."

"As long as their heads end up rolling down the street, I think she'll get the message." Vox muttered, his chin supported on his fist.

He hadn't broken his consistent staring through the window since they took off, as though the unimpressive, squalid landscape of hell held all the answers for their... complication. His brows were knitted in thought, his mouth was pursed in a thin line and his eyes bore an intensity to them Velvette didn't often see. He was a yapper, yet today only brisk, terse words left him, his mannerisms were unusually stiff; he also fidgeted a lot, a habit he probably didn't even notice, yet right now his body was completely still - no leg shaking, no fiddling with his fingers - like it was doing its best to restrain a swarm of bees from exploding through his skin. To any outsider, he was the perfect image of a professional businessman leading his company through a nasty hardship, but she recognized the signs of buried, barely contained stress and rage.

Unlike Valentino, she didn't particularly revel in Vox's inner turmoil rising to the surface. If anything, she would give up a kidney to never be subjected to one ever again.

Impatient, she picked up an empty glass and hurled it at the driver's seat. It shattered on impact, sending shards of glass around the limo. She didn't care. She wouldn't be the one to clean it up.

"Hurry up!" she barked at the driver. "Or the next one goes through your head!"

Immediately, the car sped up.

She huffed, leaning back. Deciding she's had enough, with one firm, final message to Summer to get the studio under control, she turned off her phone and reclined in her seat.

Aside from the perpetual screams outside and the car's engine, the atmosphere was quiet. But, there was an undeniable tension in it.

"Any idea how we approach this situation when we get there?" she asked, rubbing her temples, exhausted. She was utterly and completely exhausted.

Vox didn't look at her when he answered in a monotone voice "Talking first, force second."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I say we start with force. No amount of diplomacy will change their mind."

Finally, Vox looked away from the window and his expression made her want to avert her gaze as much as it made her want to keep staring at him, to decipher him, to analyze him.

"We can't barge in guns blazing," he shook his head with a frown. "from our intel Lucifer isn't just helping them rebuild, it looks like he'll be staying there indefinitely."

"Shit." she cursed, her hands clenching into fists. Even without Lucifer, their odds to win a fight against the princess were unstable. "First he starts this whole mess. The least he can do is fuck off."

"Yeah, well, it seems nothing is ever easy with this lot. Besides, he was the one who made the deal so we might still need him."

She sighed, long and deep. Her hand slumped in her lap, her head lolling back into the seat as she tried to organize the thoughts swirling through her brain like an uncontrollable tornado.

"Vox?" she asked mildly.

"Mm?"

A few seconds passed with her trying to properly formulate her concern. "What if... what if we don't get him back? Ever?"

She didn't want to invoke the probability by voicing it. The only thing that kept her tethered was her refusal to accept that their situation might be permanent, that from now on... it would just be them two. 

A day ago that line of thinking would have been unconscionable for her. There was nothing she couldn't do once she sets her intent on it, there was nothing she wanted that she couldn't get. But, now? As the words left her mouth she felt an eerie chill run down her spine like a curse.

Vox's fingers flexed and she could tell he was staving off his electricity by the skin of his teeth.

"It's not gonna happen." he forced out eventually. "It doesn't matter if the seraphim "ordained it"" he tilted his voice, mocking their words. "I don't care if God himself came down to pick Val up, we're getting him back or so help me. I'm not about to lose a near third of our income because some pious pricks decided so."

Ah, there it was. Income. 

Velvette rolled her eyes again, this time making herself slightly dizzy by jolting her already fatigued vision.

Vox could hide behind his concerns of their profits dropping, he can mope and moan all day about how "their business will take a massive hit" or how "we need him back for the sake of the company. Porn is our most prominent sell, we need him at the head of the industry before some muck decides to fill it and oppose us." or even the incessantly increasing whining and yelling about "do you have any idea what this will do for our brand?!" Because of course, they couldn't be any less than "perfection."

Yet, it shouldn't be such a surprise that that would be Vox's number one concern, since he himself was far from perfect despite how determinedly he tried to conceal it. She knew that underneath that stoic, hard-shell, rational act he was fueled by his feelings and care for his partner.

Of course, she was worried about their prospects, more than ever. But, she was smart enough not to let her hopes cloud her better judgment. If they truly didn't succeed in getting Valentino back, then they had to act and fortify themselves immediately.

"Alright, Vee..." she said with a knowing, unrestrained smile. She can see him for who he really is. "But, darling we have to talk about it sooner rather than later. I hate to say it, but that tall, white bitch folded us like candy wrappers. And she's only one person, and now we're down to two."

Vox's breathing quickened and it unsettled her in a way she couldn't describe.

She pulled her leg up on the seat, shifting to face him better.

"We don't have any way of even going to heaven." her own heart sped up. Since this entire disaster had started this was the first time they actually sat down to talk about it. "And even if by some miracle we managed it, what then? We don't know where they're holding him. We can't fight them no matter how many guns we bring and even if we could, Val is now by universal law a member of heaven. He might not be a winner biologically, but with that contract we can't do shit-"

"I know." Vox interrupted her but he didn't sound angry.

He sounded tired.

For some reason, watching the eternal fire in him - that even the Radio Demon hadn't managed to snuff out - that spoiled, greedy, destructive thunderstorm extinguishing disturbed Velvette even more. She needed him angry, she needed him vindictive, she needed him violent.

He put his face in his hand, rubbing it to soothe the tension. "We can't just give up, Vel."

"Of course, not." she agreed instantly. "But, we have to be realistic about this."

"Mhm," a worn out exhale left him. "We'll figure it out when we get to the details. We always do."

They didn't say anything for the rest of the ride. There was no point planning it out, nothing they would say would discourage Lucifer from renegotiating the deal since it worked magnificently in his favor. One soul in exchange for thousands. She didn't dwell on how pointless their visit will be, but she also wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if they didn't try everything they could.

With the limo freely speeding through the streets and trampling anything in its path, it didn't take long for them to arrive at the Hazbin Hotel. As soon as the car halted, they both stepped out onto the cobbled road.

The area was in absolute ruins. Gigantic, dilapidated chunks of the building were strewn all over, furniture lay haphazardly splintered amidst the rubble and carcasses bloodied almost every inch of the devastation. 

She spared the scene a few seconds before she turned away, apathy falling from her demeanor like mist from a waterfall. A scowl crept on her face when she saw the princess' crew huddled in a small circle around each other and sitting on miscellaneous, made-do objects, smiling and laughing without a care in the world. A day ago, she felt nothing but dull disinterest for them, now she would sacrifice her top five all-time favorite designs to see them writhing in pain with collars on each of their necks.

They tried their best to avoid stray body parts and any sharp, jagged pieces of glass and metal on their short trek up. When they approached the hotel crew, every head turned towards them.

Their merry joy swiftly dwindled on their faces.

"Well, isn't this quaint?" she couldn't refrain the resent from her voice. "Don't you all look sweet bathing in your victory?"

"Ah, shit..." the cat-like sinner mumbled under his breath.

"Oh, hello!" Charlie concealed the other's complaining with her amicable attitude. 

"Good evening," Vox deadpanned, making her cheerfulness look exaggerated.

He took a few long, slow steps towards her. As soon as he did, everyone around Charlie stood up, their weapons aimed at Vox. Their eyes were full of hatred and apprehension.

It didn't deter him.

He didn't even look their way despite the blades inching dangerously close to him as he stopped in front of Charlie.

Velvette allowed herself to smirk. She crossed her arms, already enjoying watching Vox's natural skill to draw respect. He oozed authority, and he never possessed it as magnificently as he did when he was furious.

"Your Highness," he began, taking a deep breath and steeling his gaze. "I don't intend to beat around the bush. You know why we're here."

Charlie's face shriveled with understanding and what Velvette hoped was guilt.

"Yeah..." she groaned, sheepish, as she stood up too. "Uh, so... you saw what happened?"

Velvette resisted the urge to claw her face off. She didn't suffer hours of sinners swamping her for answers or trying to burn down their offices in protest to be asked that question. "Sweetie, everyone saw what happened. Just because you no longer have a TV doesn't mean you have to ask stupid questions."

"Hey." her girlfriend, whose name Velvette didn't bother to find out (honestly, for people so infamous in hell's political schemes how did none of them have any social media?), warned. "Watch it."

"Or what?" a small, derisive laugh accompanied her words. "You're gonna send us to heaven too? Can't play that card twice."

"I say good riddance." the punk girl with the pink hair spoke and when she noticed the incensed way both Velvette and Vox rounded on her she quickly defended "What? Come on, guys. You don't actually want that asshole back?"

"Perhaps, we do." Vox stated bluntly. "We didn't exactly come for the pleasure of your company."

The girl puffed out a breath, settling back into her chair. "Whatever. It's rich coming from you though. I thought you liked to sit back and do nothing while other people suffered."

Vox tilted his head, the girl's accusation not landing well on his already fragile self-restraint. His eye began to swirl and his screen brightened.

"Do you want to repeat that?" sparks flew between his antennas as his hypnosis took effect.

The girl's face slacked, her gaze locked on Vox's screen and her eyes lost in the distance. 

"Fuck no. Back off!" Angel suddenly spoke up.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of the trance. She shook her head, clearing up her senses.

"You okay, Cherri?"

"Uh... yeah?" Her face was belligerent when she looked at Vox again. "The hell, man?"

Vox however, ignored her completely, his sole focus directed at the sinner next to her. Several long seconds passed as he and Angel Dust stared each other down, their body language hostile, their gazes venomous and bitter.

Vox's voice dripped with malice when he said "I assume you're happy now?"

Angel staggered back a step, but otherwise didn't say anything. He held his ground firmly, his fingers ready on the triggers of his guns and his gaze sharp.

His remorseless stance caused a scoff to leave Velvette. The whore couldn't even muster up the courage to admit what he'd done.

A pervasive, icy tension fell over them. The animosity, the pure, unadulterated hatred reeked from everyone gathered. All of them alert beyond biological ability, weapons in hand, bodies prepared to pounce.

Velvette cast a subtle glance around the area, noticing the king busying himself with reforming the foundations for the new hotel, oblivious to their presence. She bit her lip in relief. Whatever happens, they need Lucifer calm and cooperative.

"I think you should go." the feline demon suddenly said, grim and conclusive.

"Oh, hah!" Vox laughed excessively, contempt and scorn dripping from his tone. "Trust me, I would like nothing better. But, until you people fix that little stunt you pulled we're not going anywhere."

His eye started to swirl and widen, his hypnosis surfacing and causing everyone to tense up and brandish their blades more threateningly.

"Or should I remind you again we can do this the easy way or the hard way." he eyed the girl with the bombs pointedly. "Personally, I prefer the easy way which leaves all of your brains still functional by the end. Your choice."

"Look, pal." Angel spoke up again. "I don't know what you thought would happen comin' here and threatenin' us, but it ain't gonna work. There's six of us and two of you, I'd say it makes you outnumbered."

"And I'd say even with six of you you wouldn't stand a chance." Vox retorted, growing agitated and a part of Velvette prayed for him to keep his composure while another, more reckless part hoped he would snap and obliterate them. "Or have you forgotten who you still work for?"

Velvette expected Angel to get angry or to silently step back and keep his mouth shut. What she didn't expect was the curious, thoughtful upturn of his lips.

"Heh," he scratched the back of his neck. "Y'know, ever since Lucifer made that deal, I don't really feel that I'm workin' for anyone."

The words were vague and it took both Velvette and Vox a moment to understand what Angel meant. When they did their faces dropped in shock and disdain.

Angel noticed. "Yeah. Kind of hard to tie a guy up to a job when you don't own his soul anymore. You two can't order me to do shit, toots."

Internally, Velvette kicked himself. She hoped her anger and disappointment weren't too visible on her face because she felt like jumping off a cliff for her ignorance and stupidity. She should have known that with Valentino's transfer as a new member of heaven that all of his preexisting contracts in hell, that are governed by hell's laws and apply only to hell's inhabitants - would be nullified. And since Valentino was no longer a citizen of hell...

"Shit..." she mumbled under her breath, realizing their situation was much more severe and disastrous than they'd initially thought.

Now, she understood why Valentino's workers had freaked out so badly, why they had gone into such a panicked, frazzled frenzy, why more than half of them finally gained the confidence to leave. Because, they all felt their souls return.

Valentino... wasn't an overlord anymore.

"You fucking cunt." Vox seethed, no doubt the same thoughts addling his mind.

To Velvette's further irritation Angel didn't look remotely offended.

"Oookay, maybe we should all take a deep breath." Charlie suggested, her hands raised in the air placatingly. "Why don't we sit down and talk about this? Peacefully."

"Pff." Angel shrugged his shoulders. "It's fine, he's called me worse. It's easy to talk down on someone when you know he can't oppose ya'."

Vox took a step closer to him and even from a few feet away Velvette could see the unfathomable amount of restraint he was investing in not decimating Angel on the spot.

Perhaps, that's why Vox clung so tightly to that impersonal, unshakable composure he always maintained under any cost - because, he felt things so strongly and deeply he couldn't permit his emotions from shining through.

"And you think you can oppose me now?" his voice was gravely, his face inches away from Angel's. "You think that just because you've injected yourself into some royal company that you'll be safe? You dumb whore, I could take you out before you can even blink. The only reason I ever tolerated your annoying face was because Val thought you were worth keeping around. And look how you repaid him? You sold him out, took everything he knows and cares about, all for the sake of this shit-stained, ragged hotel."

Angel opened his mouth to retort, but a hoarse, strained laugh from Vox stopped him.

"You have no idea how infuriating it was to watch you strut around my tower every day. And you know what?" he glanced at the bomb girl. "I didn't just 'sit back and do nothing while people suffered'. I enjoyed it."

With every word out of Vox's mouth, Angel's confidence visibly waned. When Vox despised someone, he did so with a burning passion and everything he was currently spitting without restraint that had been bottled up for years was finally being unleashed.

Velvette wanted to contribute. She wanted to back Vox up, she wanted to release all of the pent up, virulent poison ready to be hurled at these sinners. But, she refrained. She refrained because the sight before her permitted no interruptions, nothing she could say could pierce the taut, blood-curdling tension between Vox and Angel. There was history there, reaching back for decades, there was a deep, bottomless pit of hate that only they were privy to.

"I... enjoyed... all of it." his tone was baleful and malicious now, his vocal cords nearly lacerated from the hate clawing out with every word. "I enjoyed watching you step out of line or run your mouth because it meant you would get your ass handed to you. I enjoyed watching him beat the shit out of you. I enjoyed watching him fuck you bloody and I enjoyed hearing you begging him to stop. I enjoyed watching him ruin you. I enjoyed watching him break you. Seeing you suffer was the only benefit to keeping you alive. God, do you have any idea how frustrating it was to listen to him whine and bitch about you every second fucking day?! Oh, and most of the time when he would throw a fit and hit you, or make you work day-long shifts, or force you to screw half the studio, or take his temper out on you for no reason whatsoever?" he paused for a second and with a satisfied, wicked smile he said "That was probably because of me."

By the time Vox was done, Angel's expression was pure desolation. His mouth hung open slightly, defeated. Hurt, grief, fear, betrayal and hate displayed on his features in a debilitating mix. His eyes had watered at some point and his whole body had gradually curled in on itself.

Everyone was stunned into silence, horrified and disgusted.

Vox's smile remained wide and cruel.

Then, before anyone could blink, Angel punched him in the face.

The demon stumbled back, automatically clutching his screen which was now cracked at the edge. Gathering himself, he looked at Angel with a vicious snarl. Not giving him time to think, Vox summoned his electricity and hurled back an equally violent punch at Angel's face.

Absolute chaos erupted.

While Angel fell on his back, his cheek burned by Vox's electricity, the crew simultaneously jumped at the media demon. A spear was thrown, gunshots were fired, a bomb exploded, a glass bottle entered the fray. Luckily Vox zapped away just in time to dodge the flurry of weapons.

Appearing a few feet away he wasted no time in charging his electricity. He thrust his fists forward, sending a wave of lightning bolts towards the group. 

A litany of shouts and yells echoed as everyone scrambled for cover. A few stray bolts managed to singe Cherri and the angel, but the rest of them managed to evade the deadly attack.

Unfortunately, they quickly gathered themselves and charged at Vox again with murderous glares.

The next minute passed in a disorienting, loud blur. Fists, blades, bullets and electricity flew in every direction. The sinners were battle-worn and tired, but they fought with fervid determination. They were sharp, skilled and pissed off.

Vox was someone who preferred to watch violence, to lounge in his fancy tech chair as others did his job for him. He didn't like to get his hands dirty, but now he tore through skin, clawed and punched like his life depended on it. He was completely out of it, his hate and deplore possessing his body.

Velvette didn't doubt Vox's capabilities, but a thread of worry still wove through her. This wasn't a regular fist fight, they were dealing with angelic weapons. While they were overlords and could singlehandedly decimate an entire building, one wrong move, one misjudged step, one single bullet could permanently kill them.

Resolve settling in her she pinched her nose. She needed to help him. Even though he was an idiot.

"Must I do everything..?" she muttered miserably.

From her pocket she picked up a packet of long, thick needles and aligned them between her fingers in a way that would make any twelve year old comic book nerd drop to their knees in awe. With the other she pulled out the tiny, purse-sized gun nestled in her skirt.

Donning the most intimidating face she could conjure she entered the fight.

Her short height gave her an advantage this time. No one saw her coming which allowed her to creep up on the cat demon and jab her needles deep in his thigh.

He yelled out wretchedly, the sound causing her to silently cackle. She ignored him stumbling around and instead focused on her next target, a small demoness with admittedly cute red hair.

Velvette stopped when she saw her approaching. For some reason, that big, curious eye of hers bore straight to her soul. It was terrifyingly confusing.

Taking a gamble, she lifted her hand to show her her craftily arranged needles and exhaled in relief when the girl gasped in wonder. She lifted up her own giant needle and smiled. Velvette nodded in support, enjoying the messy bonding they were sharing.

The girl quickly scuttled off to instead stab some bugs and left Velvette with the horrible realization that she had won a fight by comparing sizes.

She shook her head. "This is bonkers."

An aggravated, guttural shout drew her attention. A short distance away, Vox and Angel were locked in a gruesome battle.

"Fuck off you blue-balled crazy son of a bitch!" Angel screamed in his face, trying to evade the electricity sizzling through Vox's body.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?!" Vox yelled back, incensed to a disastrous level as he tried to elbow the other. "Did you really think you could get rid of Val and not have to deal with us!? How did you do it? You are nothing, no-one! How the hell did you get them to agree?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about!?" Angel parried then swung his tommy gun into Vox's side, making him lose his balance. "You're insane!"

Vox teleported behind the other.

"Oh, you have no idea." he said darkly before he brutally slashed at Angel's back.

Angel tumbled forward with a pitiful scream, blood already dripping profusely from the three long gashes in his upper back.

The others tried to reach them, but Vox herded off some of them with his hypnosis, while Velvette began to fire her gun at the rest, not stupid enough to put herself in range of an angelic weapon, unlike her useless excuse of a business partner. It seemed his hypnosis was inadequate in this instance, he wanted to kill Angel personally.

"You moron." she groaned, regretful that he couldn't hear her.

For someone who reveled in controlling everything, he was surprisingly inept at controlling himself.

By now, the surroundings looked even more ruined than they did when she and Vox had arrived. She didn't think it was possible but they had apparently succeeded. Her ears began to ring from the constant, overlapping swearing, screaming and sounds of fighting drowning the scene.

"I didn't do anything!" Angel finally cried out, his face twisted in pain.

"Bullshit!" Vox accused, dodging a bomb from Cherri. "Admit it! He made your life a living nightmare, you wanted him gone!"

Lost in his harsh condemnation, Vox failed to see the angel sneaking up from behind him.

Velvette's eyes blew wide when she saw her raise her spear, ready to nail it through Vox's skull. Quickly, she skipped over debris and pushed any bodies in her path to get a clear shot.

Before she could fire however, Charlie yelled out "Vaggie!" warning her.

The angel saw Velvette and instantly threw herself to the side. The bullet missed her by an inch and Velvette audibly cursed.

She was now right next to Vox however, shoulder to shoulder, and she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Well, this is sure going to do wonders for our image." she mocked sarcastically while reloading bullets in her gun.

"Vel, not now." Vox grumbled.

"We are perfection."

"Vel, I swear to god."

The princess came from her left and Velvette fired two bullets near her legs, intending to warn her off rather than actually shoot her.

"So much for diplomacy." truly, she should have known better than to expect a fight not to happen.

By now, they could have leveled out the field expeditiously if Vox actually decided to use his hypnosis, but nooo. He was more inclined to piss out his frustrations on Angel as though the other cared. It was fascinating how someone so usually level-headed and collected could get reduced to a reckless, temperamental mess if the wrong people said the wrong words.

There wasn't much that could cause him to lose himself borderline hysterically like this, but the things that could did it disastrously efficiently.

"Thank Lucifer, the radio demon is too busy licking his wounds to get all up in our guts." she said continuing to shoot at anyone who came near but somehow managing not to kill anyone. They were more slippery than they looked. "We would've been toast."

Too late, she realized she had said the wrong thing invoking Alastor’s name because next to her Vox began to fizzle and glitch.

"Vox?" her voice was careful.

Slowly, his body began to light up, a blue, vicious glow emitting from the electricity running incomprehensibly fast through him. She couldn't see his screen from this point of view, but she could easily see him twitch and spasm and she could only imagine the downright maniacal expression he currently must have. His antennas sparked dangerously as garbled noises left his throat and when he clutched his head for support she immediately knew what was coming.

She had inadvertently thrown a match into a pool of fuel. The last tick to a long-winded time bomb.

"Dammit, Vox." she groaned. "Clear out!"

Her legs carried her faster than she could process her surroundings. She quickly ducked behind a large concrete chunk, not bothering to check whether everyone else managed to find cover in time.

The next moment, the consistent crimson sky flashed white. A fierce, devastating storm of lethal lightning exploded from Vox, annihilating the space where he stood. It reached far and wide, giving the clouds a greeting caress that dissipated them on the spot. His fury unleashed a booming, calamitous soundwave that violently shook the earth.

The entire city could see it.

Velvette covered her head to shield herself from oncoming rocks and ash falling with staggering speed around her.

"Stupidstupidstupidmotherfuckingidiotfucker." she swore to no one but herself. Her jaw was clenched so tightly she feared her teeth might crack. "BitchshitfuckfuckyouAlastordickfuck."

She continued to curse as an attempt to soothe the tension freezing her while the lightning gradually, painfully slowly calmed down.

When it did, all that could be heard was a chilling silence.

Even the wind had quietened down, as though haunted by the assault that just ravaged it.

Timidly, Velvette dared to peek her head behind her cover and saw everyone do the same, all of them appearing from different nearby crevices, holes in the ground, or behind pieces of the building. No one said anything as they wordlessly stared with their mouths hanging open at Vox’s sizzling form.

The ground around him was nothing more than a burned, destroyed crater. His suit was tattered and scorched, his screen glitching in and out of focus and his body quite literally smoking.

"Holy fuck." Cherri said, voicing everyone's thoughts.

It took a few seconds for Vox to reboot, his familiar flat features appearing on his monitor.

Velvette itched to smirk and boast to everyone what Vox was capable of, but refrained. While Valentino covered the majority of their workforce in quantity of employees and Vel covered it with her wits and resourcefulness, Vox covered it with his power. Together, they blended perfectly.

"Couldn't have done that earlier?" Velvette griped, propping her elbow on the concrete and leaning her chin on her fist. "You alright, love?"

Vox brushed his - now, ruined - suit and straightened his bow tie as if that would salvage his appearance. Thankfully, he seemed alright, albeit marginally more tired, drained.

He calmly turned to Velvette to answer her, but before he could, a dark, moving shadow covered him from above.

Every head looked up in silence, watching Lucifer's winged figure descending to the scene.

He lightly touched the ground, his wings eliciting a gentle puff of dust, a stark contrast to Vox's fury.

Lucifer patiently put his hands on his hips, turning his head to assess the destruction. After a moment, his eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow comically high.

"Sooo," he exhaled, like a parent catching their child with their hand in the cookie jar. The comparison wasn't far off judging by everyone's furtive grimaces. "what the hell is going on here?"

Chapter Text

"Sooo," he exhaled, like a parent catching their child with their hand in the cookie jar. The comparison wasn't far off judging by everyone's furtive grimaces. "what the hell is going on here?"

Velvette scoffed, earning Lucifer's attention. She climbed over debris and rocks, making her way towards the king. "Do you always come late to a fight? Or is it just that type of day?" she grumbled with excessive snark.

Lucifer's already raised eyebrow lifted even further up, caught off guard by her brazen tone. Truly, she was living up to her "respectless" reputation. She didn't care, she felt like shit and she probably looked just as awful. She just wanted to get this over with.

The king lightly shook his head. "Who are you?"

Vox stepped up, his previous crumpled sneer replaced with his signature bright smile. "Please, ignore my companion, your majesty. We've had a long day."

Lucifer turned to him with equal disinterest at the same time Velvette leveled a histrionically incredulous look at Vox.

The king's mouth upturned in an unimpressed line.

"Vox." he offered his hand. The professional gesture looked ridiculous with his disheveled, burnt clothes and cracked screen - a stark contrast to his attitude. It was quite incredible how easily the fake amicability came to him. "I hope the small lightshow wasn't too disturbing."

Naturally, he completely undermined the severity of his blowout.

"No?" Lucifer squinted, unconvinced.

He spared another glance at his daughter and her companions, noting their battered appearance and a shadow fell over his eyes. He thumped his cane on the ground, settling his hands over the apple with a closed-mouthed sigh. When he looked back at Vox, his gaze gleamed with something dangerous.

"I don't know what your business is here," his voice lowered, measured. "but, if that lightshow - as you call it, was intended for my daughter then I highly suggest you leave. Now."

The last words were spoken with an almost imperceptible rumble. Almost. Only a fool wouldn't detect the threat woven through them.

They were lucky they hadn't managed to kill any of the crew - only leaving them with a few new bruises - because if they had Velvette was quite certain she and Vox would already be dead. Though, Angel seemed the most hurt which deteriorated their chances of a successful renegotiation.

"Alright, fair. It was an overreaction." she briefly pinned Vox with an admonishing glare. "but, in our defense, you didn't give us much choice, your majesty."

"Charlie?" he suddenly called to her, not taking his eyes off Velvette and Vox. "Are you okay? Or should I blast them to kingdom come?"

"I'm okay!" Charlie affirmed hurriedly as she skipped over. "Don't blast anyone! They're... here because of the deal you made." when Lucifer gave her a blank look, she added with a wince "...with Adam? Remember?"

Lucifer's brows pinched in confusion for a moment before clarity struck him. "Oh, right. That." he directed his attention to them again. "What about it?"

"Valentino was their business partner," Vaggie supplied, coming up next to Charlie as the rest of them gathered together as well. "they want him back."

Cherri wrapped an arm around Angel's shoulders. "Aka, the biggest asshole ever got sent to heaven and his asshole gazillionaire friends are mad they're going to lose a few billion in cash." she blurted out gruffly.

"Is that so?" Lucifer queried, his anger subsiding as his annoyance bubbled.

"We have our reasons." Vox deadpanned. "Whatever they are doesn't matter, this isn't a question about money. It's about uniformity, it's about solidity and integrity. He is a member of your kingdom. You have an obligation to your people, do you not?"

Velvette held her breath, undecided whether aggression and passionate, professional bullshitting was the right approach, but it ultimately proved judicious when Lucifer's face fell in what she could only hope was guilt.

"I do." he licked his lips, his hands rocking on his cane. He was anxious. "That's why I signed it. To protect my people."

Vox's teeth grated. "By sacrificing him."

"Oh, come on, you guys!" Cherri piped in. "The bastard is in heaven. He's doing fiiine, what's the problem?"

"Pfshh, it's way more than he deserves anyway." the cat demon added, goading and supercilious as he plucked needles out of his thigh. "They're just steaming because they lost a few thousand workers they can't exploit anymore. How sad."

"You call being collared and shocked "fine"?" Velvette couldn't refrain the snide disdain from her voice. "I'd like to see you try it since it's so fun."

She realized she might have said too much when a deafening silence fell over them again.

"What?" came Charlie's voice dumbly.

"You heard her." Vox turned to Lucifer again. "I wonder how you can sleep at night, knowing one of your souls is suffering so you can rest easy."

The drones were dismantled, so they weren't too worried about people finding out what was really happening since news of the deal has already spread throughout all of hell aided by the stream of gossip from Valentino's workers that not even Vox and his fancy tech wall of computers could contain - and especially not since Vox lit up the entire sky, but they still needed to tread with caution on the details.

To Velvette's surprise, Lucifer's features dropped even further, but it wasn't from Vox's reproach. It was because of her words. His face was cold, his eyes unblinking and his mouth slightly open. His fingers clutched his cane so hard his knuckles turned white. 

She felt her brows furrow, unable to decipher the nature of Lucifer's feelings. He looked... off. She didn't know how else to describe his shift in mood.

"I'm sure nothing like that is happening." Charlie offered unhelpfully. Velvette groaned inwardly; the princess couldn't be that naïve, could she? "Right? Dad?"

She glanced at him, but Lucifer didn't move. His gaze was locked on Vox and Velvette, his shoulders tense and his body stiff.

"Dad?" Charlie tried again after a few moments, concern growing in her voice.

By now, everyone was looking at the king with anticipation. Unfortunately, the flanking attention only seemed to further freeze him in place.

Eventually, Charlie laid a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

The touch finally reached him and he snapped back to the present with a sharp inhale.

"Hmm, yeah. M'fine." he waved her off, but it was clear he wasn't. He wasn't looking at anyone's eyes, not directly, which wasn't exactly unusual for him from what Velvette managed to gleam, but it was more noticeable now than before. It was like he was looking straight through them, searching for something they couldn't see.

"No," Velvette raised a pointed finger at him. "you know something. What is it?"

Lucifer stared at her for a moment, standing there silently panicking, before he averted his gaze to the ground. A downcast, miserable expression overcame him.

Everyone waited patiently for his response. Whatever was happening, it wasn't a regular occurrence or something the king was accustomed to.

He sighed again, relenting. His voice was hushed and calm when he said "Yeah, I know what it is."

Quietly, he walked a few steps and took a seat on a nearby rock. Following him, they all found a place to sit, forming a circle. Velvette didn't sit however; pretending to be friendly and calm as though nothing was wrong would be the last straw keeping her self-restraint under control.

"What what is?" she probed, acting tougher than she felt.

"You said they put a collar on him?" he asked and she nodded in confirmation. "I know what it is."

"Unfortunately we do too." Vox said regretfully. "I assume that wasn't part of the contract you signed?"

Lucifer tilted his head, the motion hesitant. "Not exactly. It didn't have to be. Since he's under heaven's jurisdiction now, they are allowed exercise precautionary measures, no matter how extreme, to keep the peace. I can only guess that your friend can't be trusted enough to be peaceful?"

"Hah!" Velvette barked a humorless laugh. "That's not something he can be associated with, no."

"Yeah, Val's a maniac, we know." Angel flourished his hand to draw attention. "But, what's the deal with this collar thing? Last I checked he's probably getting off on it."

"No. Not with this one." Lucifer corrected sternly and judging by Angel's and Charlie's gloomy reactions the tone wasn't one he used often.

Velvette wanted to impart more details about what happened last night, but she was reluctant to reveal how Valentino screamed from the pain, how he thrashed and jerked helplessly as he tried to take the collar off. The least she could do was preserve his dignity.

Lucifer sighed again. The man looked about ready to knock himself out if only to avoid the conversation. 

"Look," he began, taking his hat off and setting it aside. "you all know how angelic steel is built from divine energy and can permanently kill someone's soul, yes?" everyone nodded. "Well, it can do more than that. Angelic steel is rare, that's why it's used mostly for building weapons and defense. But, it can also be used to restrain someone's holy or infernal essence." when the rapt but confused looks didn't vanish, Lucifer elaborated "There's only a handful of collars in heaven that I know of, and for good reason. They only serve as a precaution, since a single archangel or seraphim is powerful enough to eliminate entire landscapes. They were never meant to be used on sinners. The divine energy is too much for a human soul to take. If your friend truly was shocked with that amount of holiness? - then... it's a miracle he's still alive."

Velvette's body shuddered with chills. Lucifer's words rang through her with a ghostly touch, veiling her weakening durability with a thin, scalding layer of frost. Valentino's screams echoed through her mind again and she had to close her eyes for a moment, realizing that his pain must have been far more brutal than she could comprehend.

When they took Valentino's body he was still breathing, but there was no telling what another shock might do to him. A merciless, scorching wave of dread seeped into her at the reality that at any moment Valentino could die and she could do nothing to stop it. Would they even know if he died? What the hell was even happening to him right now, while they were wasting time on pointless chatter?

No one said anything, all of them understanding the weight of what this meant.

"He can get out." Velvette argued, less of a statement and more as an attempt to gauge more information. "He's a stubborn bloke, he can slip out of anything."

The dismay on Lucifer's face only heightened.

"He can't." he stated firmly, too confident for Velvette's liking. "I know. I've tried. You just... can't."

"You've..." Charlie broke in, her voice a soothing breeze against the unwavering tension. "What do you mean you've tried?"

"They - the seraphim... they used angelic steel on me," he answered quickly, not looking at her. "after Eden, after the apple."

Charlie gasped at that, covering her mouth as tears beaded at the corners of her eyes.

"No, no!" Lucifer reached out to her placatingly, putting a hand on her shoulder with what was supposed to be a comforting smile but instead just looked tense. Misery and instant regret sketched themselves over his face. "It's fine, it only lasted for a short while, until me and your mom got to hell."

The sight only amplified the unease and frustration boiling in Velvette's gut. Her hope gradually depleted with every word out of Lucifer's mouth. If a seraphim, the literal devil, one of the most powerful beings in the universe, couldn't escape such a collar then the probability that Valentino could sunk exponentially.

Her breathing quickened, brittle and shallow. Her nails dug into her palms as she fought her emotions setting themselves ablaze.

She wasn't having it. This was taking too slow, whatever internal, psychological issues the king was dealing with she couldn't care less. The last thing she needed was to listen to some sob story while her best friend was suffering in a different dimension.

She crossed her arms and pointed the meanest look she could manage at him.

"So, that's it?" she bit with unrestrained ire. "You're going to sit on your arse and do nothing? Some king you are. First you let thousands of your people die for years, then you surrender them without putting up any fight at all. You're failing him, but you're probably used to doing that."

"Hey!" Charlie stood up, her horns protruding through her skull. "You have no right to talk to him like that! He's a good king, and he made this deal to protect all of us." 

"Yeah, besides," Vaggie spoke from beside her. "let’s face it, Valentino's just... awful. No one cares what happens to him apart from you two. Whatever they're gonna do with him, it's not like he doesn't deserve it. And who knows? Maybe he'll actually get redeemed. Is that so bad?"

"Yes." Velvette nearly growled. "Tell me princess, are you going to start hurting sinners to help them get redeemed too? Because if not, you're one hell of a fucking hypocrite."

Charlie had no response. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, but eventually she was left just as stumped as her father.

"That's what I thought." Velvette concluded. "You're all a farce. A joke trying to get others to take it seriously."

"Maybe," Lucifer suddenly said, catching Velvette off guard. His gaze was aimed somewhere in the distance, a pensive, zoned out glaze overtaking it. "They think we're a joke too. It's what they want." he raised his head, glancing at everyone with an astounded look of realization. "That's why they took him."

Everyone stared at him in confusion.

"Explain." Vox said flatly.

Lucifer shifted forward, color returning to his face. "Think about it. They don't believe redemption is possible, they've made that clear repeatedly. It makes no sense for them to initiate another redemption program in heaven, right? Unless, they don't actually intend to redeem anyone."

Another bout of silence followed. It was getting tiring.

"Yeah, still not followin', big man." Angel groused.

"They know they won't succeed at redemption, so they're trying to get Charlie to stop it instead." he said with an immersed intensity he didn't have before. "They're going to abduct and hurt sinners and use that as leverage because they know you care about them. They're trying to twist your idea of redemption. And if by some miracle, however small it is, they do manage to redeem someone, then they'll use their methods as proof that pain can be used for redemption which will also consequently get you to terminate the program."

As Lucifer spoke, Charlie's face grew full of hope, sadness, affection and horror in equal measure. She stared at her dad with so much appreciation it made Velvette nauseous.

"That..." Angel mused. "actually makes a lot of sense, damn. But, why Valentino of all people?"

"Because they needed to sell the deal." Lucifer answered. "He wasn't chosen at random. They needed someone who I wouldn't feel too much sympathy for. They needed someone cruel to prove that redemption is possible for anyone and also, to put the blame on Charlie."

Charlie frowned, baffled. "Me?"

"You said he was in the footage the council of heaven watched?"

"Yeah."

"Adam said they agreed on this after they saw the footage. I might be out of the loop, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to play on your guilt that it's your fault Valentino was taken for showing him to the council."

"But, it wasn't about him!" Charlie spread her arms, a bout of alarm overflowing her. "It was about Angel, and I never said anything about using pain to make someone good!?"

Lucifer's features drooped solemnly. "I know, Charlie. But, they don't care. They saw an opportunity and took it. This was never about Valentino, he's just a pawn, an experiment. He isn't the target, but he also isn't collateral damage. He's the perfect, perhaps only candidate for what they intend to do."

By now, everyone had inched closer to Lucifer, subconsciously drawn in.

Velvette's teeth grated at hearing Valentino being called a "pawn" and an "experiment", but she held her tongue. Mostly because her flipping out over insignificant, trivial details would benefit her in no way, and mostly because...

...because she didn't want to admit that Lucifer was completely right.

A spark of fear for her own safety flickered inside her. If Lucifer was right about heaven specifically targeting someone cruel and influential, then it wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume that heaven will continue that trend by picking out hell's most powerful sinners to avoid an uprising. After all, not a single one of Valentino's employees objected to his disappearance or offered to help find him. Heaven will not only gain their own people's approval, but also hell's favor by taking out the deepest roots drying up the soil, with faux consideration and the promise of a better life as their weapon.

"They will target overlords because they know no one will protest that." she gasped matter-of-factly.

From the corner of his screen, Vox glanced at her with an unsettled twitch. His expression was rigid, no doubt coming to the same conclusion as Velvette. They stared at each other knowingly for a moment, a wordless, telepathic conversation.

"Yes." Lucifer nodded, looking straight at her. "As I said, you might not like it, but Valentino being chosen was premeditated, designed even."

Velvette bristled.

Suddenly, she felt agonizingly vulnerable. Like pray, exposed and at risk of being hunted.

The feeling was foreign, like a staticky buzz of her weakness. And she quickly decided she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.

Her comment had gathered everyone's attention but to her surprise they didn't jeer and snicker at her and Vox's new-found disadvantage. None of the cathartic joy or gloating smugness she expected dwelled on their faces, nor was there any pity. Either they were too afraid to react, or they were feeling uncharacteristically forgiving. 

"So," Vaggie shuffled forward too, careful to veer around the topic. "What happens if Charlie doesn't stop the program? I mean, they don't actually expect her to give up her dreams for Valentino?" she enunciated his name with distaste and abhor like she had taken a bite out of rotten fruit.

Lucifer wiggled his eyebrows curiously. Even from an outsider's point of view it was obvious the gears in his brain were working vigorously.

"If Charlie doesn't give up the project they will probably hold a meeting - boy, they love meetings - like the one you attended, for the same purpose. Whether they actually redeem Valentino or not doesn't matter, he only needs to act like a changed person, like someone good. And with that collar they can make him do anything. They will either decide that redemption isn't possible, in which case they will never approve of the program. Or, they decide it's possible... which... is the worst case."

"Why is that the worst case?" Angel asked, leaning on his knees.

"Because if they vote in unison to kick-start an official rehabilitation program in heaven, then Valentino will only be the first. Like she said," he pointed to Velvette. "I don't think this will blow out of proportion so drastically, but if it does then - yes, they will target overlords first. Since their methods work, they will collect souls and torture them until Charlie eventually stops the project. Because they know you care, that you're good and that you'll put your people first, even if they're overlords because after they run out of stock, everyone else will be on the chopping block. There will be no discrimination. Anyone could be chosen."

"Ughh!" Charlie began to pace. Her hair flicked back and forth, mirroring her burgeoning panic and anger. "But why?! Why not simply approve of it without violence? Would it really be so terrible if sinners went to heaven?!"

"Because they're afraid," Vaggie interjected, and when she spoke her face was glum, stiff. "They're terrified out of their minds. Charlie, you saw Sera at the meeting, she looked like she was ready to cry right then and there. And I bet us exposing the truth of the exterminations only made her more desperate. She was from the fence on the exterminations from the start and that just gave her the final push."

"Maggie's right." Lucifer nodded his head eagerly. He stood up as well, his legs unable to stay still. "Sera probably has no other choice. In ten thousand years no one has ever attempted what you're doing. Sera, and the rest of them, every last seraphim and archangel, would never compromise heaven's structure. They would rather exterminate thousands of souls rather than open up their minds to the possibility that - since sinners can be redeemed, then winners can be corrupted. And they will never allow that. They would rather live in denial than face the truth that heaven might not be as virtuous or infallible as they pretended it to be. It's their job to protect its sanctity, their only job. And you, this project, is proving that they failed, and they can't admit that."

Slowly, more and more of Velvette's flaking optimism plummeted. Everything that these people were saying made perfect sense. Their theory wasn't just cogent and solid, but it was the only explanation that they could find. She spent a day replaying the events, the deal, Valentino's capture, and she couldn't come up with anything that would arguably explain why it happened the way Lucifer did.

Lucifer was an odd one, there was no disputing that, but he wasn't stupid. On the contrary, Velvette stored the memory in her brain to remind her not to underestimate this gaggle of freaks in the future. Lucifer's history with heaven, his experience firsthand at their sanctimonious ruthlessness, authoritarianism and sadism, granted him an insightful ability for pattern recognition none of them were capable of.

"And if none of the previous outcomes work in their favor," the king continued. "if Sera actually let's herself feel that shred of compassion that what she's doing is wrong, then they could always hang the threat of heaven's idea of a redemption program over our heads, to keep us in line, to keep away a rebellion potentially invading heaven. I know Sera, and that possibility is what she's going to vie for; it avoids pain, war, a rebellion and the exterminations! It's perfect! She will finally rid herself of a guilty conscience and hell will never be a threat to heaven again."

Lucifer was breathing heavily now, evidently some excitement had snuck into his nerves.

"It's... it's perfect... It's perfect! Genius even, if it wasn't so diabolical." he smoothed his hair back, letting out a big exhale. "They won an entire chess game with only one move. It all fits. There's a dozen different ways this could pan out and no matter what happens, what scenario plays out, they win. How did they even come up with it?" he wondered, mostly to himself.

"Well, it's definitely not Adam and Lute." Vaggie snickered.

"Uh, mhm, pff," Lucifer agreed, his eyes widening at how laughable the idea was. "definitely not, not in a million years. It was probably not Sera either, she wouldn't keep up all the cryptic-ness if it was. I mean, heh, there's only one person I know smart enough to plan this out-" he broke off sharply.

He stilled in place, his expression slackening. 

If Velvette focused hard enough, she could hear a pin dropping a mile away.

"Well," she urged, impatient. "who is it?"

Lucifer whipped his head to look at her, then shook it dismissively. "Nothing! Doesn't matter. Just a stupid, silly thought... Anyway!" he loudly clasped his hands together, "that was fun. Glad we sorted out the mystery, yeah?"

Velvette staggered back, unable to even form words. Lucifer's unaffected nonchalance, his neutrality as though they were merely acting out some dramatic, uncovering-the-killer scene in an Agatha Christie novel, would have made Velvette stab his eyes out if she were a weaker woman.

Her grip on her arms tightened and she couldn't even bring herself to care if she drew blood. All of her focus was invested in not losing her composure. She glanced at Vox, who sat with his fingers steepled under his chin and his elbows digging into his knees, and slightly relaxed when she noticed the same signs of fear, horror, rage and loss of hope in his demeanor.

"All of this..." Charlie hushed, the quietness of her tone loud in the stillness. "-because of me?"

Lucifer noticed the forlornness in her voice and quickly took Charlie's hands.

"No, Charlie, don't you see? This means it could work! It means that heaven suspects the possibility of redemption so strongly that they're willing to risk the very politics of hell and heaven changing. You were right, kid! You were right all along."

Both of them started unconsciously rocking on their feet. Charlie's face glowed with so much wonder Velvette was surprised the girl didn't melt from it. The sight was so sweet it was sickening. Velvette rolled her eyes.

"Wonderful. Excellent. Spectacular." she riddled her tone with as much cutting sarcasm as she could muster. "What do we do now?" 

Lucifer turned to her, the mirth dying in his eyes. "Ah, I'm not sure-"

"Get him back." Vox said, emotionless and surly, impatiently cutting Lucifer off. His voice was a low, strained rumble. "I don't care if you have to call every council member up there. Do it." 

His tone was demanding, as if he wasn't addressing the very king of hell, but it seemed he was at wits end just as much as Velvette was and didn't particularly care to moderate his brashness.

Noticing Vox's fury resurfacing, Lucifer added gently "I can't." Velvette could sense his patience evaporating, despite the small, imperceptible sympathy he tried to present to them which Velvette supposed derived mostly from his guilt. Lucifer couldn't care less about them. "Even if I wanted to I can't rescind my decision. The deal is binding. Besides, heaven would never give him up now. Their plan is already in motion and he's the centerpiece."

"I hardly see why we're even discussing this." Vox stood up too, advancing on Lucifer. "You know what you have to do."

Lucifer leaned back as Vox loomed over him. "And that is...?"

He was smart, but apparently not always.

Vox levelled the most austere, uncompromising look he could at him. "Cancel the project."

"Ha!" a loud, sharp laugh escaped Angel Dust. "Yeah, right! You hearin' this guy?" he nudged Cherri who shook her head with an amused, curvy smile.

"Uh, well..." Charlie fiddled with her hands, sheepish, nervous and ostensibly guilty. "If that would help?"

"What? No!" Lucifer jumped. "No, you're not going to cancel this. You've come too far to do that."

"But, dad... if people are getting hurt then..."

"No, that's exactly what they want. We can't let them blackmail you into giving up your dream. I won't let that happen." 

Vox interjected "You will. If you don't want your hotel to receive slander, bad reviews and one stars for the rest of time. And believe me," his eyes darkened, his voice sunk so low it was sonorous. "I'll make sure it does."

"Uh," Vaggie chimed in, unperturbed of the impending, tempestuous danger about to burst. "I don't think you're really in a position to be making threats, pendejo."

"No, he's not." the king agreed, more disappointed than righteous or offended. "That's why he's going to help us."

For a moment, Velvette's brain malfunctioned. She had to tune in to make sure she had properly heard the words, or perhaps Lucifer made an ill-humored joke that no one found funny, but no. The longer she stared with her mouth hanging open the more assured she became that Lucifer had indeed said they were going to help.

"Ahah, come again?" Vox laughed in disbelief.

"Dad?" Charlie leaned in as well. "Are you sure about this?"

"I have to agree, doll." Angel raised all four arms in the air defensively. "I don't want these two around here."

"I'm sure." Lucifer nodded, blinking languidly with his hands on his hips and a straight, inflexible stare. "You know why? Because, right now we want the same thing."

"We don't want Valentino back!" Cherri loudly yelled; a bit of an overreaction.

Velvette cringed at her pitch, massaging her ear.

"No," Lucifer coaxed calmly, like a teacher cushioning a volatile group of toddlers. "But, he is going to be used against us. Which is why we need to get him back, to stop heaven's mission. So, that the hotel can work without heaven interfering. But, first we need a way to contact them."

Charlie squinted, tilting her head. "I thought you could already do that?"

Lucifer flicked his wrist irritatingly. "I did. But, ever since you went to heaven, Sera hasn't been responding. I think she's ignoring me."

"Wait," Angel pointed a finger at him. "Sera's ghosting you?"

"If... that's what it's called these days."

Angel tipped his head back in a silent cackle. "That's so fucking funny..." he wheezed.

Vox sharply inhaled, breaking the sound of Angel's unbothered chortling. He addressed Lucifer "You were saying?"

"Uh, oh, yeah." he straightened up. "We need a way to contact them, and I think I might know how. But, you won't like it."

An exasperated exhale built at the back of Velvette's throat. "Just spit it out."

Lucifer leaned on his cane and aimed a serious look at them, making sure their attention is focused on him. "If I'm right... then heaven will probably send a message to Charlie at some point to demand that she ends the program. It won't exactly be a threat, probably a voice message or a video to show her what they're doing. If they don't, then none of this will matter and Valentino is fine. But, if they do, they will send it via a drone. They do that after every extermination to assess the current status of the population. And when it comes down I'll take a hold of it. I'll need you two," he flicked a finger between Velvette and Vox. "to install a camera, or a microphone - something that we can use to communicate with Sera using the drone."

Velvette's mind whirled. She couldn't think anymore, all of her thoughts were dissipated.

A long, stretching silence followed. Then, a piercing whistle resounded through the space.

"Ho ho, wow," Angel drawled, amazed. "That... was... so... fucking hot."

As creative as the suggestion was, Velvette couldn't focus on its execution. "That's your plan? We wait around for them to send us an arm or a wing? Are you kidding me!?" she screamed with a derisive, accusatory laugh. She didn't know whether to wail, laugh or cry at this point.

"Sugar, you made me all tingly..." Angel purred, sultry as he eyed Lucifer up and down who tried to ignore him. "Brainy really is the new sexy."

"You're out of your mind!" Velvette ruthlessly yelled at Lucifer, outraged beyond comprehension, borderline hysterical.

"Who knew there was so much smart in such a pretty package?"

"That could be weeks from now! You expect us to just sit and do nothing!?"

"Hold on baby, let me go find a bed for us real quick." he craned his neck, searching. "There's gotta be one layin' around somewhere."

"Would you shut up!?" Velvette snapped at Angel, stomping her foot for emphasis.

With Velvette screaming at him and Angel lewdly propositioning him concomitantly, Lucifer looked like he had sucked on the world's most sour lemon.

He stood there awkwardly. Eventually, he decided to tackle Velvette first. "Do you have a better plan?"

Her ears were ringing and her face felt boiling hot, but whatever insult she planned to spit out died on her tongue. She panted heavily in the heavy silence, everyone waiting for her to respond.

She... couldn't. Her mind suddenly became torturously blank, empty. She didn't have anything better to offer and it weighed on her like a mountain of bricks.

"No." Lucifer finished for her. "And neither do I. Which is why, unfortunately..." he sighed, defeat painted over his expression. Before he even uttered the next words, Velvette felt her world succumb to horror. "We're going to have to work together."

●

They didn't stay at the ruined hotel too long after that. Regrettably, a large portion of it was delegated to offering Angel a new job offer.

The spider had been more than up for it, but only if Vox and Velvette agreed with his terms and those were: more frequent breaks for food and water, he will be allowed to share his input on the script and scenes, he will be allowed to opt out of a scene or movie entirely if he found his acting partner disagreeable, a workday would not last longer than six hours, he would have paid leave on weekends and holidays, he will be allowed to take a two week vacation once a year at his choosing, and lastly - the one he was most adamant about - was the integration of safewords that the director will be obligated to respect. And like the audacious, cocky, smart-ass little shit that he was, with a raised finger he also added on that "as compensation for his wounded face and back, from now on he will be allowed to backtalk Vox to his heart's content without suffering any consequences."

To say that by the end, Vox was glitching and buffering like a two hundred year old, burnt, scratched, trampled on record, would be putting it mildly. But, ultimately he and Velvette agreed. They were in no position to refuse since Angel Dust was Valentino's top money maker and considering how their company was currently on the brink of collapse they had no choice but to agree to his terms. They hadn't signed an actual contract, only a verbal agreement was made.

At least, they hadn't gone home empty-handed. They might have been wrong to accuse him and the princess for staging the whole thing, but it wasn't like they were going to apologize. After discussing and going over the plan with Lucifer delicately a few more times (and after a series of snarky, brisk words topped off with some gratuitous, fervent cursing), Velvette and Vox reluctantly got in their limo and drove back to V tower.

In her entire life and afterlife, Velvette had never had a day so stressful. Even now, - after she spent another dozen more hours managing not only her own industry, but Valentino's workers as well - as she went through her skincare routine before bed she couldn't stop the anxious thumping of her heart against her ribcage.

Vox was already in bed behind her, in his navy blue silk pajamas and with his glasses on. He lay propped on a pillow against the bedframe as he typed some calculations on a tablet, focused. He had replaced his screen with a new spotless one and had cleaned himself up. She spared him a look from the mirror, noting his tense, worn out features.

He hadn't wanted to sleep in his own penthouse tonight, instead electing to share Velvette's, most likely for the same reasons she herself didn't want to be alone.

She exhaled, more than able to commiserate with his inner unrest. To her surprise, she didn't feel the righteous, unstoppable fury that she should be feeling right now, nor did she feel that bone-crushing hopelessness.

She just felt... numb. Inexplicably numb.

Her eyes begged for rest and her arms grew increasingly heavier to lift. It was difficult to even think anymore. Her brain was empty, a blaring, stark difference to the whirlwind of thoughts and images rebounding through it during the day.

In the end, half of Valentino's studio had left. The ones who stayed didn't do it out of loyalty - certainly not, but out of fear, uncertainty, necessity or because the only thing they were good at was fucking. The ones who chose to stay were divided equally between Velvette and Vox and were given new contracts. To their growing lividity, each and every one of Valentino's previous workers had added on new terms and renegotiated their old contracts. They were no longer the naïve, unsuspecting sinners that didn't know any better when Valentino had picked them off the streets.

Velvette should be working her ass off to compensate for it, to help mitigate the damage as much as possible but she hadn't slept a wink in over forty eight hours. She just couldn't will herself to do it, as though her body had accepted the finality of their situation while her mind refused to. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to think about what happened anymore, she didn't think she could handle it.

In the history of their company, they had never suffered such a massive hit.

She just felt nothing. Nothing at all. Her mind was blank, her body was exhausted and any emotions that might still trickle through her bloodstream she couldn't sense properly.

She was tired.

She was so tired and all she wanted to do now was go to sleep and pretend everything was fine.

Vox's claws typed away, tapping with faint, rhythmical clicks as Velvette absentmindedly worked on her hair, her fingers robotically curling and carding through it sorely from muscle memory. When she was done, she wordlessly walked over to the bed and threw herself on it face first.

"Nghhh..." she groaned into the pillow. Shifting around, she maneuvered the pillow and blanket for better comfort. "If I'm not asleep in five minutes put me out of my misery."

"Mmh," Vox hummed, lost in his work. "anything for you, dear."

Velvette gasped, faking offence. "Well, I didn't think you'd be so eager to have no partners at all so soon."

And just like that, the previous calm, almost serene atmosphere got polluted. What should have been a petulant quip to get Vox's crooning attention without the shame of verbally asking for it, stung hotter than an iron rod. Instantly, she regretted the callous words the moment they were out. She had never been good at filtering what passed from her brain through her mouth but she trusted herself enough to at least spare her closest friends from her harsh thoughts.

Vox on the other hand stayed silent for a moment. Then, with a deep sigh, he added a few commands and finally turned off the tablet and took his glasses off, putting them on the nightstand.

He didn't seem upset or critical, which eased Velvette's conscience. He had always been patient with her. She had never told him, or Valentino, but they were the only ones who had ever seen through those thorny barbs engulfing her on the outside to see the real person hiding underneath. And they have always looked at that person with a nonjudgmental smile. She had never told them how much she valued them. For everything.

Now, she didn't know if she would ever get the chance to tell Valentino.

She didn't amend her comment, - she probably wouldn't even if she had the chance, but she didn't need to because Vox scooted over and slung an arm over her shoulder.

"No, of course not." was all he said. "It's... just been a shit day."

"Ugh," she brushed a hand over her face tiredly. "that's one word to describe it."

Vox's hand began to knead gentle circles in her back. The soothing motions caused her to grow even more lax. She wiggled closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him against her.

A few minutes passed by in content, but taut silence. While the scene itself was sweet and peaceful, the mist of despair and sorrow permeated the air.

There was nothing to say any more. They had already covered everything they could.

At some point, her eyes had closed as she sunk into Vox's hold. They had never been more unstable and exposed to their enemies, but here? In Vox's arms? She felt irresistibly safe.

Sleep was at her fingertips, though she still had some energy left. She didn't know if Vox was awake, judging by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, but she still thought about her next words carefully.

"I miss him."

Vox's breath slightly hitched. Briefly, she hoped he hadn't heard her, such honesty was dangerous. But, he did, and to her gratitude he responded with equal vulnerability.

"Me too."

Valentino's kidnapping had obviously affected him just as deeply as her.

They had grown comfortable in their impunity, in their untouchability, in their foolish assurance that no one would dare think about coming after them. Perhaps, it's why she and Vox clung to each other so tightly, because they had gotten such a brutal glimpse into what it would be like should one of them get snatched away that they still felt the aftereffects vibrating in their bones.

"We're going to find him." even though the words were spoken through a soft hush, it was stony and unshaken. "We're not giving up."

Somewhere dark and hidden at the back of her mind, a nasty, airy voice kept whispering incessantly that Valentino wasn't an overlord, that he couldn't contribute to the company anymore - so, why are they risking everything trying to get him back?

Neither Velvette nor Vox brought up that question. Not once.

Vox's hold tightened around her and when he answered his voice was as strong and firm as steel.

"Never."

Chapter Text

Another grunt left his throat. The rumble as it clawed out was the only sensation distracting him from the agony. It was the only thing he could do other that struggle and pull at the chains holding him up.

Even his control over his breathing had been muffled. He didn't know how long he had been hanging there after Adam and Lute left. The cell was closed from every direction, shrouded by an impenetrable darkness that heightened the sting of his injuries. The numbing sense of isolation it created was suffocating.

Time stood still. Painfully, unendurably still.

His upper wrists hurt so much he couldn't even feel the metal slicing through his skin anymore. His efforts to thrash free only dug it further in, drawing out thin rivulets of blood that trickled down his arms.

The blood was dried up now and the wounds the angels dealt him stopped bleeding a while ago, leaving his skin sticky, yet uncomfortably crusty. It matted the short, delicate violet fuzz over his body, but he chose not to complain since the pain had also mostly diluted.

And so, he hung there for what could have been minutes, hours, or perhaps even days. He had no way of knowing.

Over and over, he assured himself that this agony was only temporary and he will get out of here. For fuck's sake, he was an overlord of hell, one of the most dangerous overlords at that. He has survived more dire and bleak situations than this one. He has faced death more times than he could count and after each reunion he has come out victorious. He wouldn't be standing here if he hadn't.

He just had to wait for Adam and Lute to slip up, then he would strike. They might have taken his claws, his mobility and his smoke, but his skills reached far wider than just those surface tricks.

Though, it seemed even his control over his souls had been snatched. Whenever he clicked his fingers, intending to summon one of his souls to him, nothing happened. That connecting thread of ownership was... absent. The first time he felt that hollow sensation in his chest he had nearly started to hyperventilate. Where before a blooming, rich lake shimmered with power, now it hummed with the quietness of its dried up, barren pit. Devoid of energy, a twisted, cruel form of nothingness. Such a simple, yet damaging vulnerability struck him so violently it made him hesitant to even try again. No matter how many times he snapped his fingers, how loudly, or which soul he attempted to bring, the same result greeted him.

Evidently, being in an entirely different dimension blocked any soul transmissions, regardless of how intensely or determinedly Valentino tried.

He was on his own.

He exhaled at the thought, slumping back in his restraints. He could only stand on his toes for so long until it started to hurt. So he switched up, worming around every which way to alleviate the numbing ache flaming every inch of his body.

The shock of it all still buzzed in his gut, and what kept him busy in these endless hours of isolation was the thought of Angel Dust.

Valentino knew the demon's detestation of him had grown more and more these past few years. No wonder, too. They weren't the madly in love power couple they had been in the beginning of their relationship which now seemed eons ago, less of a memory and more like a fading illusion. And that suited Valentino just fine, he would gladly take on the role of Angel's monster if it meant keeping him in line. It wasn't his fault Angel had been stupid enough to trust him with his soul, but what did bother him was the demon's burgeoning intransigence.

Angel had been perfect before he moved to that hotel. The backbone he gained infuriated Valentino to no end and the only reason he tolerated the new development in his attitude was to avoid pushing Angel into the princess' arms even more. 

He just couldn't believe Angel had become that sick of him to conspire with heaven for revenge. After everything Valentino had done for him. He gave him fame, he gave him money, he gave him a name. He made him someone. And worst and most embarrassingly? He had given him his love.

No matter how twisted it was, Valentino's love wasn't an easy thing to earn. While he greedily accepted love, he never opened his heart for anyone. Love is a fickle, fleeting thing. It isn't the fairytale dream everyone pretends that it is. In hell, love is a weapon as much as it is a weakness.

He had let love ruin him only once, a long, long time ago when he had been a human. The memory now rotted somewhere dark and hidden in his mind where he didn’t let himself venture to. After that, never again. Not with anyone. Not a single living or dead soul had felt what his love tasted like. And yet, he had given Angel a taste. A small one, but a powerful one, more than he had given to any of his other whores.

And what did Angel do with it? He gulped it all down then turned on Valentino the moment he had stopped supplying it. He had thrown away that gift as though it had meant nothing.

And that is something Valentino can't forgive.

Betrayal burned his insides like acid and he clutched onto the caustic sensation to remind him of all the things he will do to the spider once he gets out of here. If Angel thought Val was hard on him before, he will experience agony so brutal he will never even think about pulling a stunt like this ever again.

Valentino nailed that promise deep in his soul. Tiredly, he shifted his forehead from one arm and leaned it on the other, momentarily relieving the cramp in his neck. His shoulders were stiff and he was quite certain dark, purple bruises had already visibly formed around his neck.

Not only did he have a thick, gnarly ring of burnt, blistering tissue hiding under the collar - courtesy of the shock from the day before that he refused to let his mind linger on, for its own sanity. But, the chain connecting it to his lower wrists progressively became more taut the more his muscles grew tired and unable to relieve the tension.

The muzzle only added to the choking force. Therefore, most of his focus was invested in evening out his breathing. If he started to panic, consequently causing his heart to hammer, then he probably wouldn't be able to breathe at all - which would only exacerbate the torturous frustration boiling him on the spot.

He tried rolling his shoulders again, fighting the rigidity painfully turning him to stone. His hands were torqued so uncomfortably he could only move his joints in small, imperceptible circles.

He whined, agitated and on wits end. If his thoughts weren't naturally so loud all the time, he would have lost his mind by now. 

Occasionally, he slid into a soft melody. He intentionally picked songs he knew from start to finish to hum wordlessly. The concentration needed to remember the sequence of notes served as a brief remedy from his under-stimulating surroundings.

He pointedly steered clear of any songs dear to him, or any that reminded him of Vox or Velvette. He didn't want to taint them with the memory of the fear he felt, of the collar suffocating him, of the lacerations sliced in his skin, or of the manacles immobilizing him.

He hummed along, his voice the only disturbance in the perpetual silence of the room. At some point, he trailed off and his eyes closed, unintentionally - but not unwelcomingly, the song lulling him to sleep.

Just like that, the promise of a deep, dark rest washed over him.

●

A sharp snap cracked in the distance and the next thing he felt was white, hot agony shooting in his back.

His eyes snapped open and he gasped.

Disoriented, he couldn't make sense of his surroundings. All he was aware of was the sudden savage pain that sprung in his spine.

His breathing turned shallow and rapid. The unexpected adrenaline surge sent his heart frantic. It thumped erratically in his chest, he could feel his pulse booming in his ears.

The chains rattled with his freaked out movements, unable to stay still. Moans and grunts sounded from him as he tried to calm himself down. It took him a few seconds, but eventually he dissipated the panic enough to focus on his surroundings.

He was still in the cell, blinding white encompassing him from every direction. The artificial, heavenly light that illuminated it was as helpful as it was agonizing. The unremitting brightness stung his eyes after a certain point and even the cover his blinking eyelids offered couldn't stop it from reaching his fatigued sight.

The shock had been so abrupt he couldn't remember the last time he had been so blatantly aware of everything. It was the most horrible waking up he's had in a while.

Where had that pain in his back come from? His brain finally catching up to him, he decided to glance behind him, but before he could even turn his head, another merciless slash licked up his back.

He cried out. His body swung forward on instinct, trying to run away from the threat he couldn't see.

The manacles sliced deeper into his skin, eliciting a miserable keen out of him.

"If you had obeyed your orders when you should have, this wouldn't be happening," a female voice broke through Valentino's muddled thoughts - Lute's, he realized. "you brought this upon yourself."

Her voice was a resentful snarl, which was bad news for him. He hadn't wronged her in any way, he hadn't even talked to her yet, and she despised him with a committed passion. He didn't take it personally, from what he's managed to gleam about her personality, motives and goals, she had an ostensible, deeply-rooted deplore for sinners in general.

The interpretation didn't stop him from shuddering when he heard the tell-tale swish of a whip sliding across the floor.

So, that's what was happening. The realization both assuaged his confusion as much as it instilled terror in him.

Comprehension finally dawning on him, he steeled his gaze forward and braced himself for what was to come.

"It's time you learned your place." was all she said before delivering a violent lash on Valentino's back.

The whip sliced the air, followed by the pained howl it tore out of Valentino's throat.

And again, his body instinctively leaned forward, trying to get away to no avail. Blood instantly began to ooze from the fresh wounds. It fell down his back, warm and thick.

The clean cut from one shoulder to the side of his lower back told him Lute had removed the chain connecting the collar to his wrists - caught in his surprise and alarm he hadn't noticed the change. Miraculously, she strayed away from the soft, tender flesh where his wings sprouted. It was one of the most sensitive parts of his body and the agony of a strike like that hitting it will probably knock him out clean.

His senses were skewed, but he could ascertain the room enough to know Adam wasn't there - mostly by the lack of excessive, self-centered jabbering. It was just him and Lute.

The pain was gruesome, debilitating even, but his main concern right now was stabilizing his breathing. His lungs burned for air and he tipped his head back in an attempt to better open up his airway.

The effort proved futile when barely a second later, Lute flung the whip again. 

The hit elicited another shout from him as it opened a new laceration right in between his shoulder blades. Inwardly, he cursed; any good BDSM practitioner - or for that matter, torturer - should know to avoid the spine unless they wanted to leave someone paralyzed. 

Thankfully, this one seemed less deep from the previous ones and he exhaled in relief that he could still move his legs.

Pants, grunts, yelps and whines filled the room as Lute brought down the whip on his back repeatedly. Every hit wrung out a shrill squeak from him, unable to be contained. He had to commend her for one thing: her hits were unpredictable and brutal. The intervals between them ranged from a few minutes to barely a couple of seconds apart. Some of them were surface level while others tore so deep in his skin he wondered how he hadn't passed out from the blood loss.

He couldn't recall the last time he had been whipped and the unexpected chill activated all of his fight or flight instincts. He was the one holding the whip, he was the one bringing it down, he was the one posing with it on posters, he was the one inflicting the pain - not the other way around.

Which was precisely what made the experience so riveting, so unique. It sent a thrill rushing through him that caused goosebumps to rise on his skin. It made him feel alive.

In hindsight, while the punishment was utterly devious, it was ridiculous of her to think that the overlord of lust wouldn't find pleasure in it, even if the amount was small.

Another strike landed on him, this one worryingly close to his neck.

"This is what you get for stepping out of line," she spoke to him, her voice mingling with his heavy breaths. The fact that he hadn't been allowed enough freedom to step out of line didn't matter to her, she was completely lost in the moment and her sadistic hatred. "you could have avoided this if you had watched your behavior in front of your superiors, slave."

Her words pierced the sea of agony clouding his mind. His first thought was how cliché her lines were. His second thought was how beautifully perfect she would be in one of his movies.

Her attitude, hunger for violence, and passion to inflict pain, would have made her a star down in hell. Which was confusing, considering her initial repulsion at him getting hard from the cruel treatment.

"I'm going to draw out every last scream out of you until you're begging me to stop." she sneered, landing three vicious hits in swift succession.

Valentino's knees buckled as more strangled sounds of pain escaped him. But one thing was certain: he would not beg. He hasn't begged since he came down to hell, not once, he's not going to start now.

Strike after strike came on his back, all of them expertly - and surprisingly - missing his wings - much to his relief. He didn't know why she avoided them - on the contrary, the blows freely breezing through his back, both sets of shoulders and thighs indicated that she had gone out of her way and actually settled his wings to the side, removing them from the line of shot. Perhaps, she thought they were delicate and a single hit would ruin them completely. Whatever her reason was, Valentino wanted to see how far he could push her generosity.

The grunts and cries of pain gradually, sneakily began to turn into moans and whines of pleasure. 

After a while, Lute noticed, and under his muzzle, Valentino smiled when the intensity of her strikes increased.

"You vile, filthy creature," her voice was dripping with vitriol. "you deserve this. How does it feel, hmm?" she struck him again. "To feel helpless? To be under someone's mercy? Scum like you doesn't deserve mercy, you deserve to suffer and so does the rest of your kind."

How someone could be so temperamental when wielding all the control over someone else, he couldn't understand. If it were him in her place, he would be delighting in it - as he always did, he would prolong the suffering and twist the enjoyment until it was all squeezed out, leaving only bleak desperation behind. He supposed that was her intention, though her method for achieving it was predictable and simple. Cruelty topped over cruelty topped over more cruelty.

He didn't know how much time passed or how many times the whip slashed him - twenty, at least, by his fuzzy estimations. 

That amount would be unbearable to a human, but for a demon of hell, taller and broader than most, it was unfortunately not enough to burn him out. His back was a gorgeous, blank canvas ready to be painted red.

And painted red it was. Blood rushed out from the open wounds. A few particularly well aimed strikes landed near the knife Adam left embedded in his lower back which sliced deeper every time his body jerked or moved too much - something that was impossible to control under so much pain. He just hoped the whip wasn't dipped in angelic steel at the tip, otherwise Lute - as callous and thoughtless as she was with her hits, would probably leave him permanent damage.

Judging by the absence of a lingering holy sting in the new wounds which he could still feel in the ones from the first torture round, he didn't think it was. And he thanked whichever god listened because the next strike landed in a clear, swift horizontal line directly in the middle of his lower back, ripping his wings on the way.

He growled, furious and visceral. Pain bloomed throughout his whole body, momentarily throwing his vision into darkness. It took a moment for him to sober up and when he did he wished he'd stayed unconscious.

The fire searing him from the wounds was ruthless and he thrashed in anger. The chains held firm, but it didn't stop him from fighting against them, irrational, necessary, livid, vengeful. His movements caused his wings to brush over the floor, an indication that while they were torn they were still attached to his body.

When he gets his hands on this woman the world will gain a new definition for the word "suffering". No one - no one - touches his wings, not her, not even Vox or Velvette.

No one.

They were his pride. They had been the only consolation against the disgust and horror he had felt when he had first dropped in hell and gotten a look at his new demonic form. They were beautiful and enticing, a source of confidence and glory that elevated him above the ugly, licentious rabble that truly looked like it belonged in hell.

Now... deluding himself that he was enjoying this became undeniably more difficult. But, he couldn't show her that, he couldn't reveal such a weakness so soon, knowing she would take advantage of it.

The destructive fury in him proved aggravating to tamp down with the blaring reminder that, behind him, his wings lay crumpled, chained and ripped. They will heal, but the memory of them being ruined while he was helpless to fight back would remain forever.

His head had drooped slightly, too heavy to be held up, and it took him a moment to notice the hits had stopped.

The sound of shuffling footsteps reached his ears, piercing through the high-pitched ringing in his head. A moment later, a gust of wind brushed over him and a dark blotch entered his field of vision.

The flapping of wings and dark gray uniform gave her away. Since he was marginally taller, Lute had propelled herself to his eye level, meeting him head on.

Even with his blurry vision, Valentino saw her raise a hand toward his face. He immediately braced himself for an attack, but Lute only reached for the straps keeping the muzzle in place.

He blinked away the confusion, but welcomed the change all the same. She quickly undid the buckles and threw the muzzle to the floor with a loud, metallic clank.

The straps had been locked uncomfortably tight and the area where they were a moment ago now felt cold. But, the divine sensation of the muzzle finally being off outweighed it.

He winced as he soundlessly opened and closed his jaw a few times to stretch the stiffness. He gulped, clearing his throat. So many retorts, verbal abuse, snarky commentary and cutting sarcasm was built up in him, but before he could utter a word, Lute grabbed his face and tugged it towards her.

He grunted in protest, but her grip was unyielding.

"What's my name?" she asked, steady and unrelenting.

Valentino's brows momentarily creased in confusion. When he realized what she wanted, he couldn't help the amused eyebrow that twitched up in his expression.

He wasn't an idiot, he knew how this worked. He's done it himself countless times before.

Her name was Lute... but not for him.

He smiled at her, a delighted, toothy smile, fighting against her bruising grip. With his gaze fixed on her, and his voice a low, sensual rumble that would make anyone drop to their knees, he gave her what she wanted:

"Master."

The money people would pay to be in her place was immeasurable. The things they would do, the atrocities they would commit to hear the great overlord Valentino call them "master" were too abominable to consider.

And yet, here he was, submitting to an angel. There was something so ironic and so humiliating about the first thing him saying to her in this cell being that.

He knew what she expected of him: resilience, fury, indignation, scorn. Which was precisely why he didn't give it to her, not yet anyway. He knew how this game was played. He had a choice: either bend now or bend later after another set of lashes - either preserve a shred of his dignity by pretending he had done it out of his own volition, or trivialize his defiance and give her the far greater satisfaction of seeing him break.

If there was one thing Valentino had no intention of doing whatsoever, it was to break.

He couldn't properly discern her features, but the huff that left her told him she had hoped he would disobey. Too bad.

But, still, even without his glasses, he could see the thin line of a smug smile on her pale face.

"Good." she said, slightly relenting her hold on his jaw. "You can learn, after all."

She reached toward his chest with her other hand, still holding the whip. Two fingers began to lightly, almost curiously prod at one of his gaping wounds.

He stifled a hiss, feeling his flesh being stretched out with a stinging burn.

"You people are a disease," she spat, this time more quietly. Lute continued to play with the wounds, her gaze softly analyzing them, her nails sharp and determined as she poked and teased the brutalized skin with preternatural disdain. "-a plague. You should have been wiped out centuries ago; such a rotten, disgusting race has no place in this world. You are an infestation that shouldn't be allowed to exist, let alone thrive like you have."

The only thing preventing him from arguing back, or for that matter biting her fingers clean off, was the promise of more pain lurking in her whip. So, he clenched his teeth and glared at her as she hurled more derogatory words at him.

"You have terrorized hell for far too long, it's about time someone cleaned up the stain. By the time we're done with you, you won't even remember the person you were. We will fix you. You will be nothing more than a mindless bug, loyal and obedient, as you should have been from the start."

A husky, airy laugh left him. "Well, if that's what you wanted why didn't you just say so, master?" he riddled his voice with as much seductive, soothing allure as he could. "It feels good doesn't it? The control, to have such power. It's addictive - believe me baby I know. If you wanted to own me, you could have just said so. You didn't have to do all this. I could be loyal. I could be obedient for you. I could be good."

The pain and weariness resulted in his voice breaking out in small gasps, which only added onto the tantalizing, tempting effect of his tone.

Lute's expression evened out as he spoke, a more imperceptible reaction compared to Adam's discomfited staggering. A part of Valentino hoped she would just fuck him already and stop lying to herself. She clearly wanted to; he sensed the same proclivity for mixing pleasure with pain in her that he had.

Noticing her grip on his jaw slightly slacking, he used the opening and leaned his face forward, slowly as not to tick her off, until they were only inches apart.

"There's no need to pretend, it's just me and you. You can hurt me if you want to, if it makes you feel powerful - I won't fight. So, how about you take these off, hmm?" he rattled his chains, nodding his head toward them. "And I can prove it to you. I promise, I can be good. Let me show you what you desire, let me fulfil your dreams."

Then, the soft, foggy haze in Lute's eyes suddenly cleared out. The gentle parting of her lips abruptly turned into a snarl. She grabbed one of his antennae and yanked his head back, exposing his throat.

He groaned through gritted teeth, trying to make even that sound enticing. Despite the straining angle, he kept eye contact, not breaking it for a second.

She shook her head, evidently pissed she had dropped her guard enough for him to worm his way into her mind with sweet promises that held exactly what she wanted to hear.

It seemed, she didn't appreciate that effortless skill of his.

"Of course, that's where your perverted mind goes to." her grip tightened and he winced, yet the flicker of a smile still remained on his face. She can lie to herself, she can deny what she clearly wanted, but she can't fool him. "I was right. At the end of the day you're nothing but a common, dirty whore. You make me sick. Your existence makes me sick! You should be dead; all of you deserve to die!"

With every word her grip progressively tightened, her wrath rising closer and closer to the surface and her hatred more cutting and potent. She breathed almost as labored as he did now and suddenly...

...the person in front of him wasn't an angel. Whatever she was, it wasn't a being of virtue and love. There was a wickedness in her eyes, an evil hiding underneath a beguiling façade. A monster masked in plain sight. Even when she was beating him senseless, she hadn't looked so... wrong. The thing in front of him held no kindness in its heart, it held no compassion or goodness. He wasn't sure if it was even capable of it. 

The transformation was so chilling that Valentino could only stare at her thoughtfully.

Silence permeated the room, nauseating, pervasive, broken only by their mutual heavy breathing. 

"What a shame," he found himself whispering, astonished and disturbed in equal measure. "You....would have made..." he shook his head in disbelief of the wasted potential before him. "...a magnificent demon."

For a moment, it seemed as if time itself stopped. After the words left his mouth, he felt an eerie shudder waving through the room.

No sound came from Lute. Her face was blank. She simply... gaped at him. If what he said solidified his suffering, then he would accept it, because the poignant, buzzing tension stretching thinner and thinner spoke volumes. It needed to be said.

Lute blinked, confused, perhaps shocked. And just like that, the righteous, angelic devotion twisted into demonic detestation; the speechless, dazed glaze overtaking her hideously morphed into uncontrollable rage.

An ugly snarl contorted her features. She yelled, full of hate and punched him in the face.

She hit him so hard his vision swam for a good, solid minute at least. His head lolled to the side, discombobulated. He could taste metal and the rank smell of blood infused his senses.

It took a while for the room to come back into focus, and when it did, the first thing Valentino sensed was the invasive, solid presence of a broken tooth in his mouth.

The feeling was nauseating and he loudly spat it out, releasing a mouthful of blood along with it. It cluttered to the floor a fair distance away.

Evidently, being punched by a trained, experienced exorcist lieutenant was not the same as being punched by a fashion designer or a computer nerd. Valentino had almost forgotten the agony of a real, brutal fist.

"Enough." she bit, infuriated and Valentino hoped she now understood how clever of a decision it had been to muzzle him, for her sake. "Your words mean nothing. You lie and deceive like the conniving wretch that you are. But, don't worry. That's why you're here - we're going to change that."

Oh, the obliviousness ran deep in this one, but he chose not to point it out, not eager to sacrifice any more teeth.

"Now, listen and listen carefully." she gripped his antenna again and harshly yanked his head forward, drawing out a surprised squeak. "I'm going to give you thirty lashes, and you're going to count... each... and every... one of them. And if you fail? - the next hit will land on your wings."

Through the haze of pain and the cramp setting in his neck from being craned so unnaturally, Valentino still managed to form a smile.

Now, he understood why she had avoided his wings. Knowing they were awfully receptive, she hadn't targeted them like one would expect, instead she used that advantage as leverage. That last hit to his wings had been intentional, to give him a shallow taste of what would happen if he disobeyed.

The method, the unpredictable mind game, was as diabolical as it was impressive. This had been her plan before he had so arrogantly diverted it, and for a moment he forgot the fury melting him from within.

"I'm doing this for you, to save your corrupted soul. So, don't forget to thank me after and address me properly, slave. You know what will happen if you don't." with a cruel shove, she released his antenna.

His vision spun again, growing increasingly dizzy from the pain and blood loss. He had a feeling it was about to get so much worse.

He tiredly leant his head on his arm and sighed. "Do your worst, babygirl," he mumbled dismissively, not looking at her for additional disrespect. "I can handle it."

She snickered. "We'll see."

With that final, ominous phrase, she turned on her heel and landed behind him. The sound of the whip unfurling immediately brought him back to attention. 

His body subconsciously tensed, preparing for the agony. Briefly, he regretted his decision to run his mouth - she was clearly loading her revenge for it now, but he had never been good at controlling his emotions.

In his mind, he heard Vox's condescending voice berating him.

The scream that tore out of his throat when she landed the first strike shook through the entire room.

It was stronger and deeper than any of the previous ones and already a steady stream of blood began to leak from the open laceration. The shock almost made him forget his orders.

"Ngh... one," he croaked, his entire back shuddering with pain. He ground his teeth, vaguely worried more of them will crack. "thank you, master."

Still, despite the gruesome state of his body and overall impending nausea, he littered his tone with as much lascivious playfulness as he could. It was the best preservation he currently had.

Just twenty-nine more to go - he consoled himself miserably.

The next hit was just as gruesome, if not more.

There wasn't an inch of him that didn't wail in agony. But, he did as he was told and counted, then thanked Lute. He hated himself for it, but the prospect of defying her and failing was even more horrifying. And by the dreadfully increasing severity of her strikes, he didn't think he would have succeeded.

By the time they reached the fifth strike his entire form was covered in sweat and blood, both of them dripping and mixing together and all he could do was thank whichever god listened that Lute had removed the muzzle. He was panting rapidly and if she hadn't taken it off he probably wouldn't be able to breathe right now.

Just when he convinced himself that there might be a chance of him finishing the punishment with his mind intact, the whip landed directly on his lower hands.

A ragged, primal howl left him as he felt it slice his fingers directly to the bone.

"Mierda! Ghh, s-seven..." he barely managed to form the words. "th-thank you, master. Chica! Calm... the fuck... dow - agh!"

His words were cut off with another vicious hit, this one splitting his skin dangerously close to one of his wings - a warning.

She wielded the whip with impeccable skill, her aim flawless. They went on like that for Satan knew how long. The time Lute calculated in-between strikes was clever, precluding him from growing numb to the agony. She might lack common sense and restraint, but she clearly understood pain and how to execute it to the max. And she made sure there wasn't a spot left on his skin that hadn't been ravaged, from his shoulders, the entirety of his back, his lower arms, to his thighs.

His back must be a bloody, mutilated mess. He could feel chunks of his skin barely clinging on to him as his body swayed. The lacerations in his back throbbed, aching and hot. The blood only added to the heat already overwhelming him as it soaked his legs and pooled on the floor around him. He didn't want to look at his back even if he could, knowing he would probably hurl from the gory sight.

"Th-thirteen..." his voice came in a broken, shaky whisper. "thank... you, master..."

The counting was intended to debase, and it accomplished its exact purpose - to break down his pride, and the humiliation flushed his nerves.

They reached the fifteenth strike, and only then he noticed how his entire form shook. The terror, rage and pain had shrouded him from noticing such minor details, but now that he did he couldn't ignore it. His movements also shook the chains, causing a brittle rattle to jingle in the air like background static.

Either he was shamefully out of form, or this was the most intense pain he has experienced in a long, long time.

An unhelpful, taunting voice whispered at the back of his mind that deep down he knew it was the latter.

He whispered profanities under his breath between hits to ground himself and tamper the mounting agitation. The air hissed as the whip snapped through it with reckless abandon. 

Over... and over... and over... and over again...

His efforts to convince himself that he could take it, that this torture was only temporary and he will get out soon dwindled with every hit.

He didn't know at what point his legs had completely given out beneath him, but the rising, unbearable pressure on his upper wrists sent white hot agony down to his shoulders. His arms were on fire as they held the entirety of his weight. There was no other way to describe it. It felt like they were going to detach from his body at any moment.

He had thought the first twenty lashes were ruthless, now the idea seemed almost laughable. It was child's play compared to the brute violence she was currently subjecting him to, a warm up to wear him out before the real punishment. Every single strike hit so deep it mercilessly tore muscle and reached down to the bone.

Every. Single. One.

He was utterly exhausted. Combined with the fact that he hadn't eaten or drunk anything since they captured him only further inundated his senses with crippling dread. His eyes closed, too heavy to be held open anymore. His muscles were sore and they twitched and spasmed at unpredictable points. He couldn't keep his head up anymore, it dropped forward, rolling sideways with every hit racking his body.

The pain was horrible, unfathomable. He didn't know he even could feel pain so excruciating. He had been whipped before naturally, but he had never been whipped this brutally. It had never been this many times and those experiences now felt like gentle pats compared to the brutish force Lute invested into her hits.

At this point, he barely even made a sound apart from his counting. Every last noise, keen, moan and scream were thoroughly rung out of him. His throat hurt, making his voice a trembling, hoarse rattle.

"T-twenty- fo-four..." he sobbed out, unable to contain the tears anymore. "Th-thank y-you... m-master..."

He hated how pathetic he sounded.

He didn't want that stammering, weak voice to belong to him. He didn't want to be the person saying those words.

The more time that passed, the more his skin was cleaved open, the more difficult it became to call her "master".

Because... the more time that passed, the more impossible it became to pretend he has any choice in this.

The only thing keeping him tethered was his counting and it took every ounce of his concentration to keep it on track. He didn't know how he even managed to remember the number, let alone utter the words, but he clutched onto whatever invisible force kept him from completely blacking out. Or, perhaps he wasn't even keeping track at all, he might be guessing or he might have skipped past a few numbers in the frail hope that it would end soon.

Lute was strangely nonverbal, but she didn't need to be talkative, the room was loud enough already. His own voice sounded distant, as though resounding from behind a thick, impenetrable wall of glass.

It hurt... everything hurt so fucking much and all he wanted was for the pain to end.

He didn't know at what point that unshakeable confidence masked behind eager, albeit forced, promiscuity flickered into the trembling disappointment he felt like now. Tears streamed freely down his face. His entire body shivered uncontrollably. It didn't feel like his body anymore, it felt like a withered leaf that would crumble in the slightest breeze.

She had destroyed him. With a simple whipping session she had reduced him into a pitiful, helpless mess. And even despite the shame curling his insides into a tight knot, he couldn't stop the quiet, hitching sobs from breaking through.

Between hits, they were the only thing that filled the silence.

He was shaking... so much.

She struck him again, and he blearily felt his lips mumble the word twenty-eight.

He was so close...

Despite being two hits away from finally ending this torment, the effort seemed impossible.

Whatever his plan had been to escape or avoid damage to his body had thoroughly dissipated into dust. He couldn't even remember it, every thought was banished from his mind, leaving it a blank, wailing void.

By now, it felt as though someone hovered the sun over his back. It would have had the same effect from how impossibly heated and feverish he was from the pain.

Then... he heard himself mumble "Thirty." before he thanked her.

He almost couldn't believe he had done it, that he had reached fifty strikes still conscious by the end.

Finally - finally, the hits stopped.

A thick, suffocating silence fell over the room, broken only by Valentino's stuttering, wet breathing. His lungs couldn't get the oxygen he so desperately needed, resulting with him practically wheezing in desperation for air.

"Congratulations," Lute spoke, or perhaps Valentino had imagined the words. He couldn't really properly assess his surroundings at this point. "I didn't think you could do it."

No, evidently she didn't, Valentino thought, overly-smug. But, he couldn't even find the energy needed to smile, thoroughly exhausted.

He was just relieved that it was over.

His ears heard some faint shuffling, before Lute viciously whipped him again.

He cried out this time, the surprise of it catching him off guard.

No...

No no no no no..!

"You-" he ground out, hoarse, croaky and blindsided.

He had done everything he was supposed to. He had counted, thanked her and addressed her like she wanted after every hit.

And yet, Lute broke her own conditions. She flipped the game board and created new rules. She had chosen to cheat, while he had played by those rules like a fool.

"Let this be your first lesson," she said and Valentino didn't have to look to know there was a shit-eating, vile grin on her face. "slaves don't get a choice."

Then... she hit him again.

And again...

...and again.

...and again.

...and again.

He should have expected her to lie; there was a small part of him that secretly did, but what options did he have? If it was him in her place, he probably wouldn't have honored his word either. She was never going to stop, no matter how well he behaved, and inwardly he kicked himself for trying to trick her and expose her true thoughts so slyly the way he had. 

Now, he was paying for it.

He wanted to curse her, insult her and throw the most heinous verbal poison he could think of, but ultimately, all he did was let out a weak, self-deprecating laugh. Finally, he had met someone sadistic and cruel enough to warrant his approval, even his respect.

Eventually, his voice completely petered out again, his struggles weakened and his fury died down.

...he was done.

He was done. The hits ravaged his body as he simply hung there, slumped in his chains. He didn't move a muscle, didn't make a sound as lash after lash opened up in the mutilated flesh. He lay there and took all of it, too tired to react.

The word "stop" was at the tip of his tongue, begging him to say it. But, he won't. He can't. He can't let her win, he can't surrender in defeat so soon. He just...can't.

He couldn't take it anymore, but Lute wasn't stopping and the mounting feeling he feared and loathed more than anything in the world clawed through him: he felt agonizingly, soul-crushingly defenseless.

He didn't know what number they were on. Sixty? Seventy, maybe? His body felt faraway, a distant weight associated with him, but no longer a part of him.

A short pause blessed him. Then, the whip cracked through the air once more before Valentino experienced the worst pain he had ever felt in his entire life. It landed between his shoulder blades directly where his right wing connected to his back.

The scream that he released could only be described as inhuman.

It was a sound he had never made before. It was a demonic screech of a wounded creature he didn't want to believe came from him. It was a wail of agony he wasn't aware his body even could make.

Lute knew what such a strike would do to him, and even after claiming she would avoid the spot if he obeyed, she still targeted it.

Valentino didn't have the energy to comprehend what just happened. His guttural, ear-splitting scream was the last thing he heard before his body completely failed him.

Darkness descended over his vision and he finally passed out.

Chapter Text

All he could feel was pain.

Nothing except mind-numbing, unbearable pain. Darkness veiled over his senses like a titanium blanket, dousing the rest of the world under that oppressive sea of agony.

His mind blipped in and out of consciousness at random, sporadic times. He couldn't process anything. His vision swam out of control like a turbulent river. The ringing in his ears remained persistent and unremitting. From what Valentino could gleam the room remained empty after Lute left, but even if someone visited him he wouldn't be able to compute their presence.

He hoped no one was there. He didn't want to be seen like this: strung up by chains, helpless and mutilated like a slab of meat. He didn't want to be so vulnerable in front of anyone. It was bad enough that he couldn't channel sufficient energy to even lift his head up; he was quite certain his upper arms have sustained permanent nerve damage by now, leaving him completely defenseless. They felt like ice, just a couple of frozen blocks attached to his body and estranged from his circulatory system. 

He couldn't move a single muscle.

Not that he invested much effort in attempting it, but the few, pathetic times he did, he immediately slumped from the fresh wave of exhaustion it stirred. Lute must have definitely severed some of the muscles and tendons in his back. Even the fingers on his lower arms were torn through, rendering them useless. He supposed he should be glad she didn't completely tear them off his hands - a frail, insubstantial consolation he clung to.

Hours and hours and hours and more hours passed in that whirlwind of burning pain. Has it been that long? He didn't know. The possibility of an eternity having passed was just as high as the probability of it having been a few minutes. Time was reduced to nothing more than a slippery whisper of a foreign, lost concept. He still couldn't grasp how Lute had managed to destroy him so thoroughly and it dissipated whatever optimism he had that any future torture couldn't be that bad. He thought he could handle her whip.

He was wrong.

If he hadn't passed out he wouldn't have been able to restrain himself from arguing or worse, pleading.

It could be his imagination, but a wafting buzz of a human voice breached through the phantom webs obscuring his awareness. It took him a moment to resurface out of the agony and even with all of his attention mustered he barely managed to make out the words.

"-Ho...-fuck. Lute rea... did a number... on you..." a man spoke.

The voice sounded like it came from underwater, its animated nature muted into a dull, underwhelming whirr.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Valentino knew who that voice belonged to. But, even with that knowledge he just couldn't raise his eyes to look at Adam.

He just... couldn't. Everything hurt too much. And he doubted he would even feel the new pain if Adam decided to hurt him more.

"-ou look... ike shit."  his sentences rippled incomprehensibly.

Valentino paid him no attention. He simply hung there, his chin pressed low and his eyes determinedly closed.

He already had a heightened sense of smell, just like his hearing, far exceeding the average sinner's and the putrid smell of blood and sweat infusing the air only plunged him deeper into discomfort.

Something poked him in his ribs, a light, experimental prod that sent shivers running through him despite not being accompanied by any pain. He couldn't even properly react anymore. Adam then shoved him a little more roughly, causing him to slightly swing to the side. Still, Valentino didn't react.

A long silence followed that he was too tired to be concerned about. He focused on evening his haggard, wounded breathing, an attempt to forget the threat looming before him.

The silence continued and it made the already festering worm of apprehension in Valentino morph into a biting snake.

Eventually, Adam spoke again.

"This wo... n't do."

A brush in the wind skittered over his fur, followed by something pressing on the chain holding him up. The next thing Valentino felt was his body slamming into the hard, cold ground.

The sudden motion elicited an involuntary grunt from his throat that sounded faraway. It jostled the wounds all over his body and he hissed. 

There was more blood on the floor than he initially thought. His arms slid easily into a less torqued position, naturally settling themselves to avoid his injuries stretching. The movements woke his upper arms and the scalding ice in them gradually began to melt away as blood rushed back in. He barely managed to refrain himself from whining, it felt like thousands upon thousands of tiny needles were attacking his arms.

His head slumped heavily downward as he lay limp on his side. The abrupt shock of being let loose apparently sobered him up a little. His eyes blinked open sluggishly, the view just as muddy and unfocused as before. His eyelids were too heavy, but the instinct to open them was automatic.

As he tested his vision, he saw a yellow and purple blurry blotch entering his view. The sound of shuffling footsteps echoed and the sight of a black mask lowered down to Valentino's level.

Adam's head tilted to the side, assessing him. His hand reached out to grab Valentino's chin and used the grip to direct his face towards him.

Now that he could see him, it was easier to decipher what Adam was saying.

"-ook at you." he mumbled condescendingly. "I'm supposed to believe you're this scary big bad overlord. Bitch, please."

He lightly shook Valentino's head and a sharp, stabbing pain erupted in his temples, further muddling his vision.

His hold was less bruising than before, but still firm.

Valentino didn't want to imagine how morbidly bleak his expression must look. He didn't particularly care to fix it and he mentally kicked himself for being so incapable. He should fight against this treatment, he should bite Adam's hand off for even thinking he could touch him like this. But, he couldn't move an inch. If he had the opportunity, he would fall asleep right then and there

"Nothing?" Adam taunted.

Valentino barely blinked in response, he only stared at him numbly, too wrung out for more.

"Damn," he lamented, but even with the mask Valentino sensed the underlying glee Adam brimmed with. It was the type of glee of someone with utter and complete control, someone who knows they've won and can now bask and gloat about their victory. "I told Lute not to rough you up too much. Guess she couldn't help herself, heh. That girl can be pretty intense, and she really doesn't seem to like you."

Oh, how Valentino knew that better at anyone. He's barely surviving the effects of intimately bearing Lute's deplore firsthand. Intense was an understatement, it didn't do her passion justice.

A day ago he would have murdered someone point blank for daring to paint this image of him, beaten and mauled like a hound, whimpering and aphonic.

"Hmm," Adam mused. "Still nothing? Cat got your tongue? Not so smartass now, huh? Did you learn your lesson?"

Valentino's entire body throbbed, blood finally soaring into neglected places that have suffered without it for god knew how long. It caused him to sink further into exhaustion and he blearily found his eyes drooping.

Noticing, Adam shook his head, harshly yanking him back to reality.

"Hey." he snapped his fingers in front of Valentino's face. "Eyes here, buddy."

His expression must have remained vacant, because Adam clucked his tongue.

"Well, you're no fun like this." he griped, sounding genuinely annoyed.

Valentino's vision went flying when Adam suddenly dropped his head to the ground, eliciting another gruesome headache.

It took him a moment to come back to himself and when he did he saw Adam standing over him, tall and imposing.

"Came to beat you up a little, but you're as useful as a limp dick." With a huff, Adam walked over to one of the corners of the room. "It's fine. Guess we'll know better for next time."

Valentino's stomach dropped at the thought of a next time.

While he didn't doubt that some opportunity for escape will present itself, and that he will get out of here one way or another, as long as they kept him incapacitated like this they could do whatever they wanted to him. For however long they wanted.

"It's not like we don't have all of eternity together, eh?" Adam mocked, perfectly aware of the effect of his words. "For now though, you should enjoy the free space." he gestured widely with a leisured hand around the room. "Extend your legs a little, stretch your back. Because in the future, you'll be sleeping right here."

He smacked his hand twice against the gray square chest in the corner. It rattled and the familiar sound informed Valentino that the box he had been staring at had in fact been a cage this entire time.

His heart stuttered in his chest. Even without his glasses and with a discombobulated, exhausted mind, he could tell there was no way his body would fit into it. Either Adam and Lute hadn't accounted for his enormous size, or they somehow planned to break his bones and forcefully cram him into the cage.

The nettling conundrum however bothered him far less than the indignation of being spoken to like this, of Adam being so confident in treating him like some disobedient pet.

A dangerous, violent chill of shame shivered through his spine at the memory of Lute locking the collar around his neck, of her whip forcing the obedience out of him, of her making him count and call her master.

He will not be a dog, he will not be tamed so easily.

Even to his own ears, the promise didn't sound convincing.

He'll make it convincing. He'll get out of here and then he will flay these two arrogant fools over and over until he has enough clothes to dress all of hell.

Adam lounged his hip against the cage, smug, relaxed. "It's the perfect crashing place to sleep for someone like you. I think it'll suit you very well. And you know what the best part is? I won't make you go in, you'll crawl into it yourself."

The last statement, which was spoken with such unwavering certainty, stumped Valentino. He might be malleable to plenty of kinks, but choosing to go to sleep in a cage willingly every night was pushing the limits.

Valentino knew how to break down a rebellious whore better than anyone, but he's never been forced into the receiving role - at least... he hasn't been in a long, long time. He didn't want to think about that period of his human life filled with hurt, anguish, pain and betrayal.

In any other instance, he would be giddy about the dynamics. But, watching such intense kinks in a porn movie was very different to actually experiencing them.

"When you can get your shit together and move your fucking limbs." Adam then popped off the edge of the cage and sauntered over to him. 

Valentino still didn't move, despite the cruel words and threat of pain in Adam's steps.

"I'll be back in a few days, after you shape up and regenerate." he thrust his hands in his pockets and sighed, bored. "When I come back I expect you to play nice. Oh, and clean yourself up by then, you're a mess."

Leaving him with those demands, Adam turned and walked away, not sparing Val a second glance.

The metallic screech of the door reverberated nauseatingly through the room, leaving Valentino alone in the vapid, blaring white light.

●

Even from the top floor of the tower, Vox could hear the virulent, abrasive rancor thundering their front doors.

It's been two weeks, eight hours and forty-four minutes exactly since Valentino's disappearance, and every single second after Vox and Velvette have spent mitigating the vengeful crowds of Pentagram City. Both of them have barely slept a wink; Velvette has attained dark bags under her eyes, a tetchy, irascible mood and regrettable hair loss from the stress - much to her dismay.

His hands flexed behind his back, his posture straight and his expression stoically grim. A fortune of their already depleting resources has been spent on additional security to stave off the onslaught, and still even two weeks later it showed no sign of tapering out. Former employees, people who owed Valentino money, people he owed money to, sinners he betrayed or botched deals with, sinners he hurt or blackmailed, sinners whose homes he destroyed, sinners itching for more territory and a quick sweep over his studio to grab whatever materials they could - have all gathered around the tower, fighting tooth and nail for a way in.

Suffice to say, the list wasn't small.

All of Valentino's hard work, all those decades invested in growing his empire which he built brick by brick with blood, sweat and tears, all those hundreds of souls collected under one shared, unbreakable chain - gone in the blink of an eye.

Their profits have dropped horribly now that a third of their income has been cut off. Well, nearly a third. He and Velvette had managed to scrounge the dregs of Valentino's more committed, willing workers. For one, Angel Dust - his top earner - was back (with gutsy stipulations that made Vox see red).

At the memory of Angel's face, Vox whirled away from the window with an audible, irritated scoff. He doesn't matter - Vox kept reminding himself - he's just a meaningless whore with no real impact in their lives. He couldn't help but abhor the irony: for decades he has wanted to get rid of Angel, and now that Val's absence allowed the opportunity, Vox couldn't. He needed Angel, despite how aggravating it was. Vox's main concern now however was Valentino and getting him back.

At that thought, Vox sighed tiredly. He pinched his nose and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing.

They were nowhere close to finding Val. Not a single breakthrough in their innovations to somehow breach into heaven. They haven't heard a word from Lucifer, despite his open commitment to helping them. And not a single message, or drone, or sign came from above.

At this point, Vox prayed for a limb or an eye or a video to descend from the sky, if only so they could have something to work with instead of sitting on their asses like dormant, useless lumps.

For a moment, he just stood there in the middle of the penthouse. The TV jibbered in the distance, Katie Killjoy's perpetually insufferable voice babbling as usual. Otherwise, the room was quiet, the eerie effect potentiated by the distant sounds of collective shouting, fighting and glass breaking occurring from below.

It was too quiet, discomfortingly so. There was no shuffling sounding from the couch, no fanning of giant, gorgeous wings, no smoke danced towards the ceiling, no incessant, but endearing whining could be heard. In some instances, Vox could almost hear Valentino's voice.

Voxxy, baby, you're working way too hard. Come here, let me help you relax.

But, Vox knew it was only in his head.

Still, he couldn't help but indulge in the imagination. Sometimes, he would leave Valentino's cigarette burning on the table, if only to preserve the smoking, thick aroma.

Glancing over, he saw it had run out while he had been brooding through the window. He walked over to it and picked up Val's cigarette holder.

He assessed it, turning it between his fingers absentmindedly. He wanted to return it to its owner, but its owner wasn't here. 

Vox felt something sharp and foreign pinch his heart.

"They can't keep you from me." he mumbled suddenly in a dark, yet soft tone, almost as if the holder harbored Valentino's essence.

He diverted his gaze toward the crimson sky and glared at the bright, celestial form of heaven looming over them.

"I will find you."

●

Valentino didn't know how much time passed before he regained enough consciousness to move his limbs.

His motions were still stiff, every excessive stretch sending a fresh jab of pain. He would have stayed motionless if he could, not eager for Adam to return once he saw Valentino had replenished enough for another bout of torture. But, he felt awful. His blood stuck in thick, gooey lumps on his skin, matting his fur into a crusty cake. He was covered in sweat and his inability to move and stay awake resulted in bladder incontinence.

He didn't know if the room had cameras, but he couldn't lay in his own filth anymore. Adam's words rang through his head Clean yourself up by then. Valentino had a lot of time to mull over them - albeit most of it had been spent sleeping, and if Adam expected him to clean himself up it must mean there was a sink somewhere in the room, or a bath, or even a hose. Val will accept anything at this point.

His back was on fire, but at least his muscles and tendons had stitched back together. The bittersweet irony that the pain precluded him from being awake from most of the recovery was the only thing keeping him tethered. It seemed like his wings were both still attached to him, albeit barely, despite Lute's merciless strike. He pushed himself up, slowly, oh so slowly. By the time he managed to settle on his knees, he felt like he had run a marathon. 

He was exhausted, he hasn't had any food or water in ages. His throat was dry as a desert and his stomach rumbled loudly. But, he pushed on. After straining to slip his chained lower arms through his legs and in front of him, he raked his weary, sapped gaze around the room and cursed when the only thing he could see was white. However, over the back wall he could vaguely gleam a set of slim shadows.

He crawled over to them, not strong enough yet to stand up. Grunts and huffs escaped him, unbothered whether someone might be watching him since he already looked dreadful. He reached out a hand to assess the space and knitted his brows when it made contact with a cold, porcelain surface. 

Touching around the object a bit more, his mouth dropped open in triumph. He used his hands to feel the tub, then he made his way to the rest of the objects and turned the faucet of the sink built next to the bath. Sure enough, fresh, clean water poured through. Next to it was a bar of soap and upon holding it he felt a heavenly melody in his head.

He had soap.

He felt himself ascending.

He had soap!

They can torture him, but he had soap now, he can handle anything.

Adam and Lute might be barbaric and vicious, but they had standards.

With a silent, gleeful cackle, he turned the tub on and let it fill while he relieved himself. He tossed his boxers to the side; he definitely won't miss those. He didn't have any other clothing but he didn't have anything to hide - on the contrary, his nakedness might hopefully discomfit the two angels.

It took every ounce of his strength to climb into the tub, further inconvenienced by the manacles around his wrists and ankles, but he managed to slip in. Panting, he slouched on his side, breathing heavily. Gathering his breath, he dispersed the darkness descending over his vision and started to dissolve the soap. 

Immediately after, he thrust his hands under the faucet and cupped them. But, before he could bring the water to his lips to drink the collar around his neck started to flare up. 

He stilled.

Anticipating the undoubtedly unfathomable pain it promised, Valentino held his breath. But, it never came.

Exhaling, he raised his hands again to drink.

As soon as he did, the collar heated up again.

He dropped the water like he had just burned himself on a stove.

"What the fuck..?" he slurred.

Furious, stubborn and persistent, he cupped some water in his hands once more and went to drink it. Again, the collar started to sear his neck.

He slammed his fists against the edge of the tub, stifling a hiss.

He couldn't drink water.

No.

No, that was wrong.

He hasn't been given permission to drink.

His pulse quickened, boiling, hot anger coursing through his veins. He was dehydrated. He was starving. He was allowed to bathe for their comfort, but he wasn't allowed to drink the water that was so close to his reach. It was a creative form of cruelty to permit him to plunge himself under, but not allow him even a sip.

"I will... kill you..." he whispered, barely audible. It wasn't a statement, it was a promise.

Pushing down the earth-shattering indignation that in any other scenario would have prompted him to murder an entire neighborhood, Valentino proceeded to wash himself.

His mouth watered and his throat begged for him to drink, but he couldn't, he wasn't allowed to. Unless, he wanted his skin to be scorched so gruesomely it would be eroded down to the bone.

He thanked whatever universal force was listening that he had four hands, otherwise he wouldn't be able to reach certain parts of his body without them. His wounds ached and burned, hindering his range of motion. He tapped carefully around them with a cloth he found nearby, trying not to further irritate them, and watched as the water below turned progressively darker with blood.

"Gah!" he winced when his hand accidentally jolted the angelic knife Adam had left in his back.

He's been so out of it he didn't even notice it was still there. He thought about leaving it in, more blood loss would only leave him more exhausted. He weighed his options, then, he pulled out the knife.

Suppressed grunts and whimpers throbbed for release, but he continued. When it was finally out, he used the cover of the water to hide the knife in one of the folds in his crumpled wing. The chain wound around it held the blade in place, while the wing hid it from sight. 

He just needed to get close enough to Adam and Lute now.

After that, he gave himself a moment to simply rest. Softly slumping his head against the edge, he curled his arms around his knees, bringing them to his chest. His entire body relaxed. For the first time since they brought him here, the room was quiet. 

If it wasn't filled with Adam or Lute's taunts, the sounds of Valentino's pain, or his own stormy, uncontrollable thoughts, the room was constantly loud. Except for now. The water wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm, the perfect temperature to soothe him while cooling off the inflammation in his injuries.

The soap emanated no particular smell apart from artificial, corporate misery. Vox would have loved it. But, nonetheless, it was calming. He closed his eyes, savoring the peace before it would be snatched from him.

Then... he felt the collar heat up again.

His eyes snapped open.

His body bolted upright, sobering him from his brief reverie.

The collar stopped glowing.

Valentino reached his hand towards it. His fingers hooked around the hard metal and he began to tug.

He tugged and tugged and tugged.

It didn't even bend. Not a millimeter. It was rounded near the edges, presumably for a more refined appearance. He tried to find the lock, but it didn't seem to have one. It was an unbreakable, infinite ring of condensed angelic light.

Unless he managed to take the collar off, he had no chance of escaping. But, even Carmilla Carmine would have difficulty cracking it, what hope did a weaponless, enfeebled demon like Valentino have?

After what felt like an eternity of attempts to tear it off, Valentino's arms collapsed into the water, defeated.

"Fuck..." he cursed and went to lean against the edge, but then remembered the collar won't let him relax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... fuck..."

Whatever he was feeling, he decided to shove it deep down, lest risk his temper slipping from his frail control. He emptied the tub and stepped out, feeling fresher and lighter.

Wet and dripping, he spent the next few hours simply exploring the room - despite its limited capacity. The walls were surprisingly metal, luckily just the regular kind. The steel door was locked tight, without a window or opening installed. Other than that, and the cage in the corner, the room was completely empty.

When he was finished, he slid down a wall to rest. Thankfully, the collar allowed him to fucking lie down, at least.

He chose to ignore the daunting dread racking his insides, he ignored how he could still hear Lute's whip slicing the air, and he ignored the creeping sense of impending despair. It wouldn't do him well if he lost his ability for rational thinking so soon.

So he focused on mapping out escape plans, musing over ways to break the collar, slice Adam and Lute's throats with the knife, how to leave whatever this place was, weave through heaven without anyone spotting him, ways to transport himself back to hell, then somehow convince Lucifer to null the contract - and the more he checked off impossible obstacles the more his optimism doured. Occasionally, he would delight in the images of Adam and Lute's bloody, desecrated corpses pinned over the entrance of V tower, if only to comfort himself and stave off the cloud of depression weighing him down.

He will get out. No matter what, he wouldn't give up. The odds might be stacked against him like a mountain, but he won't succumb to this. He had a studio to come back to, a show to run, workers to make sure stayed in line, and his partners who are probably diligently working to get him back.

He needs to get back to Velvette and Vox.

Chapter Text

His dreams were forsaken of joy, but neither were they filled with any pain. He drifted in an endless void, abstracted from time, a lifeless, numb dessert cooling after the searing sun desecrated the land.

He was violently jerked to the present however when the steel door swung open with an ear-splitting screech.

It took Valentino a moment to recognize his surroundings, but the agony still searing his back thrust his memories to the forefront of his mind. He didn't have time to mull over his daunting predicament because in a matter of seconds two figures marched over to him.

"Well, hello princess." Adam taunted, crossing his arms as he stood over Valentino. "Did you enjoy your little vacation?"

Valentino strained to sit up; the shock of their arrival released a bout of adrenaline in his limbs which facilitated the action. It did not however still the fast pacing of his heart. The last time he saw Lute was when she shredded most of the flesh and muscle mass straight from his bones and the sight of her face instinctively ignited an apprehensive spark in him.

He held her cold gaze briefly before averting his eyes.

He didn't know how to formulate an answer to Adam's question that didn't carry a stinging jibe that would exacerbate the punishment. He needed to stay level-headed and avoid any more damage to his body if he wanted a chance for escape. Besides, his brain hasn't even rebooted properly yet, he might say something incredibly reckless in retaliation.

When Adam received no answer, he clucked his tongue. "Really? Still sticking to the silent act? I thought I told you to play nice when I get back."

Anger and irritation seeped into his voice, indicating to Valentino it was time to sober up. Quickly.

He needed to be smart about this.

"I..." he purposely made his voice sound small, wounded, even though he felt the furthest thing from docile. "I am."

Adam's raised eyebrow betrayed his surprise. Valentino hated how weak he felt pinned beneath his looming snare.

It wouldn't last long, he reassured himself in a diligent attempt to keep calm.

"Good." Adam said gruffly. "So, you're not going to get any more hard-ons?"

Shame, he had hoped his nudity would deter them, but they didn't seem at all bothered by it. "No."

"You're not gonna make Lute uncomfortable? See Lute?" he teetered his head towards her briefly, proud. "See how supportive I am of women? Those chicks at the club didn't know what they were talking about. Women love me, I'm the best."

"No." Valentino remained neutral.

"You're not going to act like a cocky, moaning slut?"

Valentino barely managed to prevent his teeth from grinding at Adam's arrogant smirk, but he exerted enough control to form another "No."

Adam nodded thoughtfully, his and Lute's gazes never leaving Val's form. "Alright," he hummed. "I'm guessing you probably want these?"

From his pockets Adam procured a water bottle and a packet wrapped in aluminum foil which Valentino could only assume was food.

At the sight, the bottomless pit in his stomach began to claw at his insides, hungry, empty, desperate. It felt like a cavern has formed in his middle and his throat was so dry he couldn't tear his eyes away from the items. No wonder his wounds were healing so slowly, he's been starved, malnourished and dehydrated for what felt like years.

He nodded wordlessly.

Adam tilted his head, victorious. "Prove it."

Valentino watched as he walked over to the cage and with a slight jump sat on top. A rattle echoed through and dread filled Valentino that Adam might already going to order him to get in the cage.

But instead, Adam simply swung his legs in a leisurely, bored manner and lifted his chin. "Well?" he asked dumbly, as though bothered he's been made to wait. "Come on, tell me what you've learned."

Well, shit.

Usually, torturers didn't like to run their mouths so much and chatter, but it seemed Adam was an exception. Valentino could have navigated this if he'd just been told what to do instead of trying to tiptoe around hidden traps that could set Adam or Lute off at any point if he worded his sentences wrong.

Unfortunately, these were the cards he was dealt with. He had no choice but to play the game if he wanted to win.

Gulping, he straightened up and tried his best to mitigate his frustration and don a non-threatening appearance.

"I'm supposed to serve you. To teach me humility." he tried carefully, opting for a simple, obvious answer.

"Uh uh, sure." Adam nodded. "It's just good old torture like we said, dude, since sinners can't actually get redeemed. But, I really like that you're committing to the bit. Go on."

"You want me to be a slave." he ground out in a pretentiously husky croak, as though uttering the words out loud pained him.

They did not, they've been said before but in a playful, exciting setting; it was the person he was speaking them to that caused him pain.

Adam huffed, unsatisfied. "No, bitch. You are a slave now. Get it right."

Lute stepped forward intimidatingly, as though waiting for permission to strike him for his slip up.

Noticing, Valentino amended "Yes. Of course."

He didn't act frightened because he was actually scared of Lute - he was, but he maintained the pitiful act mostly because he needed a functional body. And if Lute strung him up again for another whipping session, then Valentino will only double the time he's already spent imprisoned here.

He can't afford that. There are people down in hell who are expecting him and a spider awaiting punishment. At the thought of those three familiar faces, Valentino fortified his will.

"I am supposed to obey you, and not talk back." his throat burned as hot as the wounds on his skin, but he pushed on. "I shouldn't disrespect you, or step out of line, or-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there." Adam interrupted him, raising a hand. "I'm loving the submissive energy, but you need to put some effort into it."

Valentino was quite certain this was the first time in his life both on earth and in hell he's been told he's not performing submission correctly. The comment was so insulting he wasn't even mad about it, more bewildered than anything.

Adam rolled his eyes then indicated with two fingers. "Come here."

Valentino slowly shuffled forward. Thankfully, Adam wasn't far away, so he only had to crawl a couple of steps.

"Alright," Adam leant forward and indicated toward Val's knees. "That. See that? Don't tell me you're shy now, spread them."

Valentino licked his lips. Evidently, Adam was dead set on receiving the full picture of submission. Why Val thought he could scrape by with just ingratiation, he couldn't remember.

He spread his knees apart and if he was with Vox he would have reclined his body in a sinful display, he would have slowly brushed his hands over his chest and thighs, he would have seductively arched his back and accented his chest with a sharp, confident smile, aware of how attractive he was because he would have been with people he knew, people who wouldn't torture him senselessly. But, he didn't do any of that, knowing Adam wouldn't appreciate it. Exposed like this, there wasn't a part of him hidden from Adam's piercing stare.

"Mhm, now the wings." Adam insisted.

Valentino slid his wings further, not letting them shield his body and his soul shriveled at their creased, awry, unkempt look. Water still dampened the fluff that was now littered with matted clumps and slashed tears. This is the first time they looked anything less than seamlessly beautiful and cared for.

"Now, the hands." Adam directed him, as though Valentino was a fresh, innocent sinner newly picked from the streets in training on how to be a good whore. Fuck, that was his job, and the role reversal sent his mind in a tizzy. "Put your top ones on your thighs and your lower ones in front where I can see them. Palms up on all of them."

Valentino did exactly that.

"Good." Adam approved and his tone mellowed from the addictive power satiating his sadistic desires. "Now, bow."

Valentino bowed his head, vulnerable, beaten.

He rarely gave such submission to Vox and Velvette, giving it to someone as vainglorious and simple-minded as Adam roused untold shame to course in his veins. To receive Valentino's cruel attention and be dominated by him was already a privilege, but to have his subservience was a rarity Adam didn't deserve.

At least, the obscurity of his features from Adam's view relieved them of the effort to maintain a faux, calm compliance. The sound of footsteps clicked behind him and the next moment Valentino felt a pressure on his nape.

It increased, forcing him down. His lower arms instinctively slid forward to avoid being crushed as Lute led him to the floor with the sole of her boot. He dropped lower and lower until his forehead made contact with the cold marble floor.

Velvette used to do this, before she realized she strictly liked women. She would push Valentino down until he was practically sprawled at her feet whenever he was too mouthy or brassy about her height. She would taunt him about being the short one now and he would absorb the degradation like sweet honey.

He snapped back to reality when he felt a pleasant warmth pool in his gut.

No. No, fuck, he can't think about his time with Velvette. Lute had beaten him within an inch of his life the last time he got aroused, and if he did so again right after professing his fake deference she will undoubtedly tear him apart. 

He bit his cheek to distract himself, focusing his mind on the gruesome, dispiriting reality of what was currently happening.

"Perfect." Adam's voice wheedled serenely, almost admiring. "When you address me in the future, you're going to do it in these positions. Understood?"

Valentino clenched his teeth so hard he was vaguely worried they might crack. "Yes."

"Yes, what?" he warned.

"Yes, what?" Valentino asked, his grip tightening around Angel's hips, possessive, unrelenting.

"Y-yes Val." Angel gritted out through moans and whimpers. 

Valentino backhanded him.

"You think you deserve to call me that after that disaster of a shoot?" he knew he was pushing him beyond his limits; the exhaustion and misery blared from Angel's expression. And, oh...

...wasn't the sight just divine. No amount of begging or pleading would get him out of this.

After a particularly well-aimed thrust of Val's hips, Angel cried out, his hands desperately clutching onto Val's shoulders.

"Daddy!" he panted, winded, needy, and in pain. "Yes, daddy!"

"Yes, master." Valentino kept his head low, his back hunched and his voice meek.

"Oh, fuck me, this is even more satisfying than I thought." Adam mused dreamily like he was getting all the birthday presents he asked for. "God, why couldn't you have been a girl? We would have had so much sick fun together. That nice little mouth of yours would have been put to good use day and night and we wouldn't have had to beat those manners into you. Doesn't that sound great?"

No. No it didn't.

"Yes."

"Yeah, it does. It's a shame we couldn't snatch that pornstar, Angel Dust. At least he kind of looks like a girl with those tits."

At the mention of Angel's name, the person responsible for all of this, Valentino felt that quivering, violent betrayal stiffen in his core like a buried, festering memory.

The insinuation that they didn't even want him was already too insulting even without the comparison to Angel. Did these morons have any idea what people would do to have this control over Valentino? Did they have any idea how lucky they were?

"But, fucking Sera decided we're supposed to pick you up." he woefully spat the word as though Valentino had committed an unspeakable, unforgivable travesty to him. He knew he should be more attentive, but at this point he simply let Adam vent out his incoherent frustrations. "And I'm not some fag, heh, ew. I'm not one of those... those queers. I like women, girls, pussy, the whole rack. I mean look at me, you think any of this isn't straight?" from the swishing sound that flapped through the air, Valentino assumed Adam was gesturing to his appearance.

The more Adam drawled on, the more certain Valentino became that his suspicion of Adam's denial ran deeper than even he could see it. And for someone who has a reputation of liberating countless men of that self-inflicted repression, he knew personally how that denial never prevailed against the insuppressible, natural desire clawing through.

He couldn't quite pinpoint Adam's approach to torturing him. His methods were typical: fists, slaps, knives, whips. And he seemed quite reluctant to fuck him despite his obvious inconsideration of other's boundaries, but Valentino knew intimately how effective sex was as a tool to cause pain and he wondered how long it would take for Adam to dissolve his inner inhibitions and utilize it.

And besides, maybe Adam truly was straight, it didn't matter. Sex was almost never about attraction, at least not for Valentino, it was a vexing concoction of potential, both pleasure and pain mixing together to create a beautiful tonic. Once Adam gets a taste of that potent, exhilarating poison, he will realize that sex is power, it's a way to inflict indelible damage, a hot rod to permanently mark someone's memories with his visage, to paint his touch in invisible handprints on someone's body.

Good thing Valentino didn't plan to wait until that moment came. He will be out of here and none of these observations will matter.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this anyway. Not like it matters what you think." he appreciated the low bow of his head since it concealed the derisive eyebrow he raised. "Really, the only thing you're good for is being pounded about. Must suck to be you right now." he laughed, exaggerated and jeering. "I admit, I was excited to break a few limbs or something, but I'm liking this little exchange."

Of course, he did. He had no idea that only a handful of people in the history of hell have had Valentino so vulnerable at their feet. If he wasn't so stressed from the foreboding, imminent threat of pain, he might have siphoned the power emanating from Adam as his own. He knew how intoxicating it was.

"So," he loudly clapped his hands and Valentino cursed himself at his failure to fake a flinch. "where were we? Ah, right, you were embracing your new life. Well, don't stop now. What else did Lute teach you?"

Valentino let a long, tense moment swoop through as he contemplated his next moves. If he made one wrong slip up, he will be in even more grueling pain than before. Adam was expecting his shift in view, his acceptance and recognition of their authority. 

Fuck, he was smart, but he wasn't patient. He could distantly hear Vox's voice berating him, urging him to moderate that tempestuous, fickle fire that might make things worse.

Gathering his impulses under control, he released a shaky, brittle breath. "I'm sorry."

The deceptive, over-the-top fawning wasn't difficult for him to simulate. Besides, it never failed to thwart arrogant, prideful men who strive to prove themselves as the cleverest in the room. Adam was one, and so was Vox, and while Vox could run circles around Adam as he effortlessly does with such gullible egomaniacs, Vox still always fell for it. He never missed an opportunity to patronize Valentino during one of his dramatic fits when he thought Val was too stupid to recognize the patronization, and the method worked like a charm.

Hopefully, Adam would be similar enough to manipulate.

He couldn't tell if the two angels were taken aback by his apology and quailing tone. The only thing he heard was Adam demand "About?"

"E-everything." usually, the tears came smoothly, but the throbbing pain and shock must be dulling his skills. He was an actor, after all, albeit with a different assortment of roles that didn't quite fit the criteria of "pleading, whimpering victim". But, he wasn't anything if he wasn't versatile. "I'm sorry about my vulgar behavior. I... I won't do it again. I promise."

The sound of his heavy, exaggerated breathing infused the room. After a moment, Lute spoke up, her voice doubtful and carping. "Sir, I don't believe him. He's proven himself a lying wretch. It's obvious another lesson is in order."

The weight of her foot increased on his neck and he winced at the crushing pressure.

Her words plowed through his reflexes and he quickly implored "No! No, I swear, I'll do anything!" he looked up at Adam as best he could, a risky move, knowing he hadn't been given permission to, but he needed him to see the desperation in his face. "Anything. Just... just don't... don't hurt me again. I'll do whatever you want."

God, he hated how he sounded, but it was necessary. He didn't want to disappoint Vox (even though Vox would rather chew his arms off then beseech anyone like this, but he has always been a hypocrite).

"Oh, really?" Lute then removed her foot and suddenly grabbed his undamaged antenna, cruelly yanking his head back at a painful degree. "How come you didn't have any problem hurting others? You gladly beat your workers, but you can't handle any pain yourself? Pathetic. We know everything about you, freak. Or did you not listen that first time?"

"I know!" he groaned, seeping his voice with misery and distress. "They're only movies! I'm just the director! I don't... pain is not something I... dios mío, I swear! I'm sorry!"

With an offended, repulsed scoff, Lute abruptly released his antenna. His head lightly thumped against the marble, but he kept it hung low in a show of surrender.

No one said anything, the profound silence stretching through the confining cell like hot butter. Lute's presence was unfortunate, she is much more difficult to fool after what happened between them, after she attested first-hand how subtle and wily his cunning could be. But, he still hoped his performance might at least spare him from another "lesson", and even if it isn't enough he wouldn't stoop to pleading.

He will not beg.

Snivels and sniffing tumbled out of his throat, truly a pitiful sight. After what felt like an eternity, a sigh breathed through from Adam.

"Okay, come closer." he said patiently, like a savior who's better than everyone else for taking pity on Val.

Valentino slowly lifted himself up on excessively trembling arms and legs. He crawled over to him, his movements stiff and minute, his head bowed low, his eyes fixed on the ground.

When Adam was within arm's length, Valentino acquired the position expected of him: palms visible, posture hunched, knees wide. Hopefully, it would momentarily pacify the bloodlust curling within Adam's soul.

Another sigh left Adam, this one winded and drawn out, as though Valentino was making unnecessary trouble, but Adam - oh, so gracious as he was - wasn't punishing him for it.

Val didn't want to give him the opportunity to derail the topic, so he quietly repeated "I'll do whatever you want."

He subtly twitched when he felt Adam curl his antenna around a finger. He still didn't move, didn't make a sound.

"Yeah. You will." he said confidently as he absentmindedly fiddled the antenna. His motions were gentle, but that only accented the threat of pain harboring in them, letting Val know that the gentleness can morph into violence at any moment. "As my slave you should know what I want, but it's good that you're cooperative about this. It makes it easier for both of us."

"I... have skills." Valentino timidly began. He knew the weak, helpless image men like Adam were enticed by, he's indulged plenty of them to be able to recognize it. "I can be of use. I can do the things you mentioned earlier just don't let her..." he paused to deepen the effect. "don't let her hurt me again."

From the way Adam's hand stilled and his breath hitched, Valentino knew he hit the nail on the head.

He's got him.

"Well, that's great, but I told you. I'm not gay, you prick." 

"I've serviced many straight men," Valentino quickly rectified after sensing Adam's choler spiraling. "when I was a worker. They knew what they wanted, it was just sex, nothing more. I can make it fun, pleasurable."

He dared to lift his head to assess Adam's reaction, deliberating on his next course of action as he pointedly ignored the other angel behind him.

"You... you've won. I'm yours. You can do whatever you want to me, and I can make it feel good for you, master. I can make you feel powerful."

Suddenly, the hand toying with his antenna harshly twisted. 

Valentino winced, his neck craning to alleviate the strain.

"I don't need you to make me feel powerful." Adam goaded, crude and cutting. "You think you have any power left to give me? I fucking own you, bitch. I already have all the power, or are you too stupid to still not get that? Should I tell Lute to bring out the whip again?"

"No!" Valentino automatically grasped Adam's knees with his top hands. "No, I understand. I just meant that I'll be good if you want to use that power."

The force in Adam's grip slightly abated and that was the moment Valentino realized his undisclosed advantage. Adam hadn't actually forbidden Val from touching him.

Using that knowledge, Valentino dared to shuffle even closer until he was nearly between Adam's knees. "I was an overlord, not many have had me in this position. Only the most powerful or richest, or both."

He was tired, he was hungry, he was so fucking exhausted, but he had to see this through. If he gave up now he was done for. Subtly, he began to slide his palms up Adam's legs, slowly enough not to alarm him.

"And you are by far the strongest. I haven't met a man like you, power suits you well." Adam's features remained vacillating, but he wasn't lashing out, yet. Valentino took that as his cue to continue. "You seem to know what you want and you know how to get it, if I met you down in hell? Well, querido, I wouldn't have looked anywhere else. You're different. You have a commanding presence and if you want me to pleasure you I'll gladly do it."

"Pff, ugh, well," Adam squinted, the previous assertiveness shrinking into a shy stutter. "I mean - hell yeah, that's right! First man, hello? I literally command an army."

Valentino leaned forward abruptly. "And that is so... fucking... hot, master." 

Whatever nonsense Valentino was currently spewing, he didn't care. He can worry about replenishing his dignity once he gets out of here.

His words seemed to have achieved the intended goal. Adam's mouth dropped open gently, his brows knitted yet his face slacked, enamored.

Valentino's hands reached Adam's hips, and if it weren't for the manacles, searching his pockets for a key to his collar would have been much easier, even though he doubted he would find one.

"We don't have men like you down in hell." It appeared, stroking Adam's gigantic ego proved to be the correct technique. "Confident, brave. I bet all the girls are throwing themselves at you."

Their faces were inches apart, and before Adam could gather his senses, Valentino slid his hand over Adam's crotch.

Instantly, the shine in Adam's eyes returned, hurling him back to reality. "Whoa!" he jumped, trying to put space between them. "What the fuck do you think-?"

Valentino pushed himself forward and put his top hands on Adam's shoulders, pressing him down further against the cage.

"And I bet you're good in bed." one of his lower hands replaced the previous one and he continued to stroke Adam's member. "I bet there's an impressive cock you're hiding here. I bet everyone wants a piece of you."

"Fuck! No, stop-!"

He can't let Adam give him an order, otherwise he wouldn't be able to disobey so he gave a firm squeeze, cutting Adam off.

Adam's eyes widened in panic and he gasped. His hands thumped weakly against Valentino's chest, trying to push him back, clearly caught in surprise.

"And I bet no one will miss you when you're dead." Val growled ominously as his free hand grasped the handle of the dagger hidden in his wings.

Then, before anyone could blink, he quickly drew it out and rammed it straight into Adam's neck.

...

...

...

...or tried to.

The knife shone with a haunting, lethal glint, its tip barely a millimeter away from Adam's throat.

Valentino's whole body was frozen. He couldn't move an inch. Looking down he saw his arm encased in a white, radiant veneer of divine light reaching up to the collar around his neck.

He felt his heart cleave in two.

A vicious, chilling shudder raked through his entire form. His ears began to ring and his throat closed up as a merciless, violent torrent of horror desecrated his soul.

Fuck! He only had one shot at this! But, he couldn't move! His hand strained in vain to shove the dagger in, the chains loudly rattling from his efforts. But, the collar's light was petrifying him in place.

Adam's face was affixed in gelid shock. No one said anything, silence permeated the room like a noxious, suffocating gas.

It felt like an eternity passed. Suddenly, Valentino was violently pulled by his throat away from Adam.

He crashed on his back with a howl, the injuries still inflicted sending an unendurable wave of pain that momentarily sent his vision swimming. The knife flew from his hand, clattering onto the floor. His throat burned from the force, causing him to cough.

Lute was standing over him, her distressed gaze flicking between him and Adam. "Sir?" she addressed him, concern ebbing her fury. "Are you alright?"

Adam stared vacantly at the floor as though he hadn't heard her. Valentino had been doubtful of whether the dagger had been forgotten, or was just an intentional move to gauge what he would do. But, judging by the consternation and dismay on Adam's face, it seemed it had indeed been a lapse.

Noticing, Lute stepped closer and Adam's head snapped up.

"Huh?" he mumbled, discomposed. "Oh, uh, ah yuh. Of course, I'm fine. Fuck off!" he bounced off the cage angrily and brushed past her.

His steps screamed with fury, his previous shock twisting into righteous vindictiveness. Valentino barely managed to prevent himself from scrambling away as Adam advanced on him with a murderous glare.

"You piece of shit!" he roared and brutally punched Valentino in the face.

He fell on his back again, the side of his face wailing with fresh pain. 

"You're going to regret that." Adam sneered and squeezed his fist in the air, and before Valentino could even lift his head the collar began to sear.

His hands reached up towards it as a raw, ragged scream tore through his throat. White, hot fire plunged his whole world into a sea of endless agony. 

Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck! No!

He clawed at the collar, but to no avail. It wouldn't budge. Panic gripped him like an iron fist. He could do nothing but writhe and scream as the scalding, unfathomable heat melted away at his flesh.

But, even that description didn't do it justice. It wasn't just regular heat and it didn't just target his neck. It was divine energy in its purest form seeping into his hellish soul and eating it away from the inside. It felt... wrong. It felt so wrong it was unlike any pain Valentino had ever experienced. There was no possibility of enjoying this or ignoring it. It was a foreign essence violating every inch of his being, slithering like a snake where it didn't belong and polluting the soil with its poison until every blade of grass and flower was dead.

He couldn't take it off!

"You think you're tough shit trying to kill me? Me?" Adam's voice echoed in the distance, drowned out by the screams filling Valentino's head. "You're out of your goddamn mind you fucking cunt!"

The pain was less intense that the first time they shocked him except that only made it so much worse. By now, he should have already dropped unconscious, but the collar won't let him. It injected just the right dose of angelic light to make sure he was profusely suffering while keeping him awake for every second of it.

He couldn't even process his surroundings anymore. Adam and Lute had faded away into a distant memory as he screamed and screamed. He blearily wondered how he was even still alive. It hurt so fucking much he couldn't believe it hadn't killed him already.

He just wanted it to stop.

His own voice sounded foreign to him, the pain twisting it into a sound Valentino didn't want to believe was associated with him. He clawed at his throat; he clawed and punched the ground - anything to make it stop. His muscles spasmed and convulsed, his movements out of his control.

Even after his body had slumped on the floor, exhausted, defeated, it continued to glow and ruin him until he couldn't see what was in front of him anymore.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours until Valentino finally - finally - passed out.

●

If he thought he was in pain before, now he felt like he was swimming in it. His mind floated above a boiling, scorching river of lava intent on pulling him under.

His neck wailed in agony and it took Valentino an infinity to make sure that his head was still attached to his body. He felt faraway, as though the pain had transcended him beyond this plane of existence to a place where no thoughts or sound or sight existed.

The reality of his situation dawned on him even before he fully awoke. The panic seized his senses once more, spurring the adrenaline running rampant in his veins. 

He startled with a gasp. He couldn't see anything. Darkness surrounded him from every direction with an uncomfortably intense synthetic smell infusing his senses.

His hands instinctively began to flail, but an abrasive, harsh force kept them in place. Honing his focus, he realized both pairs of his wrists have been tied together against his chest. The rope wound all the way around his back, immobilizing him.

What confused him more however, was the sticky, plastic duct tape wrapped around each of his hands. He tried to push against it, but the tape held firm, effectively locking his fingers in the form of a fist.

Before he could make sense of any of it, he heard a suction in the distance. Suddenly, the converging darkness closed around him with staggering speed. 

His whole body locked in, as though encased in some cocoon. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe! He didn't know what was happening and his instincts set ablaze.

He couldn't breathe!

He began to thrash, confused, terrified, panicked. But, still nothing. He couldn't move an inch. Whimpers of fear tumbled out of him freely, unable to be contained. His legs were pressed together just as tightly as his arms. There was pressure from every side, holding him down. His entire body had curled in on itself in a fetal position. He couldn't fucking breathe!

He fought to inhale, his lungs frying themselves from the inside. Then, suddenly, air entered his mouth.

A long, hoarse gasp escaped him as he gulped lungful after lungful. He sagged, his mind whirling in alarm, completely discombobulated.

"There we go." an all too familiar voice said.

A harsh, unexpected slap landed on Valentino's thigh and he flinched. The sound it produced was peculiar and too well-known for him. Now that he could breathe, he finally realized what the darkness wrapped around him was.

Judging by the texture and smell, he was trapped in thick, tight latex. It was probably why his fingers were sealed in, to block him from clawing his way out.

...fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck...

Already, he felt unendurably claustrophobic. The rigid, stretched plastic obscured his eyes, ears, nose and mouth, preventing him from speaking. It covered every inch of his body, keeping his limbs and wings fastened tightly in place. His attempts to somehow wiggle out of it were useless and pitiful. It pressed so snugly against him it felt like a second, suffocating skin.

It was unfathomably agonizing and panic started to seep into his soul again. His heartbeat quickened, his nerves tingling with the urge to run and scream and hit.

He wasn't allowed enough time to ponder his predicament, because the hand at his thigh coolly began to trail up his body. It tapped at his waist, then it prodded curiously at his ribs, then it cupped his shoulder before finally laying flat on his head. The touch was almost loving.

Almost.

"You..." Adam began, low with a tilt of uncontained malice. "...have no idea the amount of pain you're about to be in."

He sounded like he spoke from behind an impenetrable wall of glass.

Valentino could do nothing to fight him. Not only was he starved, dehydrated and tortured, but it felt as though the collar had drained all the life out of his bones.

He had been so close. He had been so fucking close to burying that dagger into Adam's neck that the failure desecrated his durability just as much as the collar did. All of the debasement, the submission, the humiliation, had been for nothing. The crippling shock, the thing he had tried to avoid at all cost, had happened anyway. If it weren't for the thing around his throat he would have already escaped. He would have been out of here and the entire dreaded ordeal would have been nothing more than an unpleasant memory.

But, he hadn't. And the collar was making sure he would never forget it.

Above him, he heard the sound of a tape unfurling. The next second a pressure landed against the opening on his mouth and his airway was abruptly cut off.

Immediately, he began to suffocate. His body convulsed, the latex squeaking with his movements. But, nothing dislodged the tape. 

A piercing, twisting pain erupted in his gut. He couldn't breathe and the agony felt like someone poured boiling water down his throat. If he had any food left in his stomach, he probably would have thrown up from the nausea. He flailed and cried out and fought but it did nothing.

It could have been seconds or it could have been minutes confined in that deathless ocean of misery. Just when he thought he would pass out again, the tape covering his mouth was removed.

Again, he hauled in air like never before.

The sound of his desperate breathing filled the silence. It was so quiet, yet so distressingly loud.

"Oh, I'm so going to enjoy this." Adam gloated, gleeful and sinister.

Just as soon as he said that, he slapped the tape back against Valentino's mouth.

The panic returned tenfold.

Even though he knew there was no escape, he couldn't still his body. Terror took complete control over his movements, the natural urge to run plowing through his rationale.

Valentino couldn't comprehend the sounds he was making anymore, he just knew they were pathetic and weak. An agonizing, horrid eternity later, Adam finally removed the tape.

By this point, it felt as though his lungs were littered with bruises. The frustration simmering in him was maddening, like a furious, feral swarm of bees ready to explode.

"It's quite ingenious." Lute's voice came from above.

"I know right?" Adam said with a proud chuckle. "I saw it in a movie once. I've been dying to try it out."

Valentino wanted to scream. He couldn't even process the indignation from the onslaught of overwhelming sensations caging him in.

"Which is bad news for you." he tapped a finger where Valentino's lips were hidden under the latex. "One good thing about sinners? - as hard as that is to believe. Is that you can't really die. Sure, you can go poof by angelic steel, but if it's just good old regular asphyxiation, you'll come back to life as good as new."

An uneasy shudder vibrated through him. Valentino didn't know why such a haunting, foreboding feeling fell over him, but Adam's next words sent a frost of scalding ice freezing his heart.

"I wonder how many times someone has to die for them to lose their mind." he spoke thoughtfully. "Let's find out."

Valentino tried to lean away, but there was nothing he could do to stop Adam from sliding the tape over his mouth again.

His hand lingered over it firmly for a few moments, to make sure the tape stuck against the latex without a millimeter of leeway to let air in. 

"I'm going to make you wish you had never been born."

He heard Adam shuffling back and the debilitating fire searing Val's composure morphed into a blizzard when he heard his and Lute's footsteps fading farther and farther away.

No...

They... they wouldn't. They wouldn't?!

"See you soon, sucker! Have fun!" Adam hollered with ostensible, sadistic derision.

The metal door banged closed with a loud, shrill creak. They left Valentino alone, unable to move, or see, or speak, or breathe. He couldn't breathe.

He began to thrash.

He couldn't breathe...

He couldn't breathe!

Chapter Text

The moment the steel door locked closed after Adam and Lute left, Valentino began to panic.

The vacuum was left turned on, still suctioning all of the residual air between Valentino's body and the latex. The tape stuck tightly to it, impossible to dislodge.

It was agonizing.

The panic caused him to flail wildly. His heartbeat quickened. His lungs begged for oxygen that just wouldn't come. His movements were erratic, desperate, as he twisted every which way to somehow get air in.

But, it was pointless.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck!

His body was trapped in an unbreakable, solid coat of dense, unbending plastic. His head hit the ground multiple times in his attempts to thrash free, crazed, terrified out of his wits.

He couldn't see, he couldn't smell, he couldn't move an inch. He couldn't fucking breathe!

He couldn't breathe! He couldn't breathe!

Fire scorched his chest, his abdominal muscles straining to inhale.

Eventually, his ears began to ring and his mind grew dizzy. He didn't even notice he was dropping unconscious until he actually felt his body sag from the exhaustion.

He had no air. He had no energy. He had no strength left. 

All too soon, Valentino passed out.

●

He woke up with a choked off, startled gasp... except he didn't actually breathe anything in.

What should have been air flooding his lungs, they were instead met with nothing.

His entire body seized. 

It took him a moment to remember what was happening, but the debilitating pain in his torso reminded him of his horrifying reality.

He curled in on himself as much as the suit allowed. The latex squeaked and scraped as he began to thrash. He tried to prod at the tape with his tongue, but the opening was too small and the little he could slither out was held back by the tape firmly glued in place. He couldn't nor did he want to comprehend the pitiful, pathetic sounds he was making. Grunts, wails, moans, keens, whimpers, and squeaks erupted from his throat, unable to be contained.

Panic gripped him again.

He couldn't help it. He knew he should stay calm, but the natural instincts that came from being suffocated ignited his entire body into action.

Stop stop stop stop stop! He inwardly screamed at himself. 

But, it did nothing. No internal monologues or berating could still his panic.

Barely a minute after he woke up, he felt that crushing, ominous darkness descending on his awareness again.

●

He startled back to awareness and immediately started to choke. 

His throat bobbed beneath the latex, his limbs shivering, his body straining to break free. The fire in his lungs rose to a cataclysmic wildfire. It hurt so much Valentino wondered how his ribcage hasn't caved in yet.

There was no fun to be found in this. It was nothing like any torture he's ever experienced before. No matter how fervently he tried to rationalize his thoughts, he couldn't grasp any of them. His mind swirled in an incomprehensive, uncontrollable storm. 

He didn't have the ability to plan for an escape. All of his instincts grew primal, rabid, leaving him thrashing and gasping on the ground for air like a frightened animal.

Multiple times, he's considered summoning his smoke. But, just the thought of enduring the power of the collar thoroughly belied those suggestions and caused his blood to turn cold.

He thrashed and thrashed and thrashed and the frustration boiling his soul morphed into a ticking time bomb. 

Eventually, his efforts flagged again. His blood longed for oxygen that just wouldn't come and again, Valentino died.

●

His fingers carded through white soft fur absentmindedly, the motion almost habitual at this point.

The onslaught of delightful sensations immersed Valentino in a misty, pink fog as he gazed lovingly in Angel's eyes.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me, cariño." he whispered, lightly tightening his arms around the other's form.

Angel's eyes glinted, his lips creasing into an endearing smile.

Valentino cupped his cheek, then slowly brought his lips to Angel's.

The other returned the kiss, deepening it, his body shuffling forward as though magnetised. It was a gentle thing, unlike the passionate, rough kissing that they usually did. Because, now they both knew they were in no rush; they had all the time in the world.

Their lips gently, languidly moved against each other. After a few seconds, Valentino broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against Angel's.

"Thank you." he hushed, holding Angel close. "Thank you for choosing to be my star."

Angel huffed and closed his eyes, melting into Val's touch. "Always."

The contract lay neglected on the table, golden and shining with both their names written down on it.

It was beautiful.

●

The next time he woke, he did so with a scream.

His lungs had no air in them left. It felt like they were caving in on themselves and Valentino was quite sure if the asphyxiation didn't kill him this time, then his organs failing would.

But, even that thought process was difficult to follow. His brain was scattered, his senses thrown askew by the alarm and unabated horror seeping into his heart. 

He didn't understand why this was happening. He hadn't done anything to these angels. Nothing!

It hurt so much. All of his limbs were drained like he had run a marathon. His skin couldn't properly breathe. The latex pressed so tightly against it they almost practically fused together.

It hurt. It hurt, everything hurt! Tears had pooled into his eyes at some point. Only, they couldn't escape the latex, so they collected heavily, creating an unimaginably uncomfortable pressure in his eyes.

And his joints were beginning to ache dreadfully from the lack of mobility. His neck and shoulders were as stiff as a rock and his hips screamed from lying so long on the cold, hard floor.

But, he couldn't take notice of all those overwhelming sensations because in an equally short amount of time he felt his body failing again. 

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his fighting flagged. Once more, he lost consciousness.

●

He jerked back to the present. His chest automatically expanded, begging for air.

...Valentino felt it trickle past his mouth.

He heaved.

He heaved and heaved in air like he had never done before. He didn't know what was happening. The intake of oxygen momentarily dazed him, sending his sense of orientation spinning. It hurt as it scraped his throat like shards of glass to reach his lungs that suffered so long bereft of it.

It caused him to cough, the dryness in his throat further worsened by the fact he hasn't had any water for god knew how long.

He was hyperventilating. Sharp, rapid gasps diffused in his mind as he fought back sobs. His muscles were pulled taut as he continued to heave like a cornered, hunted rabbit.

The opening in the latex was small, but he lapped all the air it allowed, desperate for more. 

"Damn, dude." that awful voice spoke and Valentino felt a stone drop in his stomach. "Tuberculosis called, it wants its disease back." Adam mocked with a cruel laugh.

Against his better judgment, Valentino growled, furious, vengeful, and utterly murderous.

He was rewarded immediately after when Adam violently kicked him in the stomach.

All the air flew back out as Valentino groaned in pain. He couldn't bring his knees to his chest to protect himself, the latex immobilizing him completely. Trapped in it the way he was, he was a sitting duck.

The vulnerability was soul-shattering and Valentino felt goosebumps rise on his skin. Adam could do anything to him like this. He couldn't remember the last time he was this exposed, this defenseless.

Perhaps, never.

The blow eradicated the dregs of his strength, causing him to slump against the ground. 

Adam loudly exhaled above him. "Aww, look at you." he crooned, feigning sympathy. "All stuck in latex. Do you feel stuck? I bet you feel stuck. How long has it been? One? Two days?"

He... has been dying repeatedly for two days straight...

Valentino didn't know how to feel about that. Of course, Adam could be lying, but just the likelihood that two days was believable churned his gut. It both felt like less and more time has passed.

"You must be boiling in there." his words vaguely registered in Valentino's brain. Not only was the plastic inhibiting his hearing, but he still couldn't moderate his breathing. It overlapped with Adam's voice, mussing his sentences. "Do you regret trying to stab me, yet?"

Valentino wanted to claw his face off.

He would have if he could, because the next moment, Adam laid a hand at the back of his neck. Valentino twitched.

"That was a really stupid fucking thing to do." his voice quietened, but the edge of disdain was still there. "I thought Lute nearly whipping you to death would be enough to get the message through that thick skull of yours, but I guess it's not. If there's one thing I'm not gonna tolerate, it's disobedient bitches who refuse to learn their place."

His words were scornful, but his touch was gentle as he began to tap at the bumps of latex where Valentino's vertebrae protruded. He hadn't even noticed how much the starvation had emaciated him until Adam touched the proof.

"You. Are not. A person anymore." Adam accentuated through gritted teeth. "You don't have a home to go back to. You are nothing but property, you don't get to just leave."

His breaths still came in heavy, and Adam's looming presence did nothing to assuage his trepidation. He was lying on the ground, wounded, starved, dehydrated, bound, and unable to fight back in any way against someone who despised him.

"But, you know what? I'm gonna be nice about it." Valentino highly doubted that. "I knew you were a piece of work when you came to us. And, you bet your ass some rebellious attitude isn't anything I can't handle. I'm the first man. I've handled tougher shit that you. This phase where you're trying to act all strong and mean will end. I'll make sure you're back to that nice submissive behavior you had going on before. I don't care how long you have to stay in this suit for that to happen."

The hand at Valentino's back suddenly pressed down against his injuries, hard.

He grunted, his body lurching forward. His wounds wailed from the pressure, but he couldn't escape it. 

The pain prompted him into another panic and he began to pant. A few frail, alarmed keens left him. The opening in the plastic covering his whole face was too small and it only caused his panic to rise.

"There, there, shh." Adam hushed. "Come on, you had to know what would happen if you failed. Or were you just that dumb to think I'd let you go easy?"

The pressure increased. Valentino began to violently shake as the pain tore through his nervous system.

"Your only purpose here is to suffer. As long as Sera sees you crumble, she doesn't care what we do. So, you're all on your own, no one's coming to save you. You will realize that, in time."

That was wrong. Adam was wrong. Someone will save him. If Valentino couldn't do it himself then Vox and Velvette will. They always do.

They will find him.

"I was on the fence about halting the exterminations just to get one sinner in exchange, but now that it's happening? It's not so bad."

Abruptly, Adam removed his hand and Valentino breathed a sigh of relief. His touch still lingered however, its shape tingling on Val's back like angry, bilious needles. 

"I mean look at you!" Adam proceeded to brush his hand against Valentino's side, albeit more subtly. As much as Valentino wanted to tune Adam's acrid charade out, he knew he should pay attention. Types like Adam, who adored hearing the sound of their own voice, usually failed to filter what comes out of their mouth. Adam might yet say something substantial Val could use to escape. "All helpless and weak. Do you really expect me not to take advantage of this? Torturing you is becoming the highlight of my day."

Helpless... weak...

The two words rang in his head like a reawakening, ancient whisper whose only purpose was to decay his mind with its pernicious venom. Valentino stilled, dumbfounded, as he realized much to his chagrin and horror how true Adam's observations were.

"Listen, this whole thing is new for me too. I'm an honest guy, I won't lie. But, ho boy, it's getting me excited." Valentino wondered whether most of the people who pander and yield to Adam's whims do so just to get him to shut up. "The exterminations were great. Ten out of ten experience. But, it's like once a year, for fuck's sake. You, however? I can have fun with you any time I want. And you can't do jack shit about it."

To emphasize his words, Adam stuck the tape back against Valentino's mouth.

The motion was unexpected, and Valentino didn't have time to even try to evade him. He started to writhe again, his body once again deprived of air and the agony simmered in his very soul.

His groans and squeaks mingled together, drowning out the silence. The latex scraped with his movements and Valentino didn't doubt the pitiful sight of him struggling satisfied Adam.

Just when he felt the lava in his chest nearly knock him out again, Adam removed the tape.

Valentino wheezed, quick and shallow. The humiliation, the helplessness, the rage, pillaged his composure. Unable to suppress it, a hoarse, ragged scream tore out of his throat.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this uncomfortable for you?" Adam taunted. "I don't suppose this screaming means you want to apologize?"

Valentino's pierced, painful breaths still waved heavily, but they briefly salved when a whooshing sensation breezed over the latex covering his mouth and the next moment, he felt the opening stretch wider.

Finally able to open his mouth, he gasped in large lungfuls of air. His jaw ached, sore from disuse and the perpetual grinding of his teeth from the pain and fear.

Inexplicably, the latex still clung tightly to him, evidently augmented by the angelic undercurrents of Adam's magic.

He must have been wordlessly hauling in air for a while, because Adam impatiently complained "Well? I'm waiting."

Valentino was going to kill him. He was actually going to kill him.

"You-" he broke off with a cough. His voice sounded foreign to him, never has he heard it this wounded or fragile before. Gulping down the dryness, he tried again "you... want an apology?"

"Hmm, yep!" Adam answered, exuberant and puerile. "You were so good at it before 'I swear! I'm sorry! Just d-don't let her h-hurt me.'" he mocked in a high pitched tone. "Remember?"

He slapped a comradely hand on Val's shoulder.

"And you can start by calling me Dickmaster."

Valentino felt his embarrassment anneal. His brows creased "...I'm not going to do that."

Adam slapped the tape back on.

The next few seconds passed in that same unbearable cloud of hysterical agony. Valentino convulsed and shook, ready to practically leap from his skin. 

Eventually, Adam removed the tape again.

Valentino breathed in deeply, labored and incensed. Then... he laughed. A dark, caustic laugh that would have instilled bone-chilling terror in any of his workers.

"The only apology you will get from me... will be me ripping out your entire spine and using it to beat your dead, bloody corpse!" 

The supple, inoffensive tone from before was gone, replaced with one so dreadful and raw evil itself could have dripped from Valentino's tongue. However, the vitriol marring its gruffness was marginally trivialized by the ostensible damage to his throat.

Even on his most unfortunate, miserable days Valentino hasn't sounded so acrimonious and scathing. 

"You think... you're some big hotshot? You think you can "own me?" Valentino rasped, croaky, vaguely worried about his teeth shattering from how hard he clenched them. "You bitch! Maldito bastardo, I tear apart morons like you every day without breaking a sweat!"

"Now, listen here yo-"

"No." He didn't know how he still managed to form coherent sentences. But, he didn't care. He didn't care, he was so enraged he might as well have melted from the boiling intensity. "You listen! Escucha, pedazo de mierda arrogante y malcriado! Just shut up! Shut the fuck up! Get me out of here, right fucking now! Or, I swear to god, I'm going to tear every limb from your body and feed them to that sadistic pale cunt who follows you around like a dog!"

He knew he was crossing a line with no return. It was too late to go back now. He could vividly imagine Vox's disappointed frown. Every inner thought Valentino had repressed in favor of pacifying Adam, was finally being released without restraint. Adam is seeing first hand how despicable Valentino was capable of being, how unexpectedly he could switch between moods, and how easily that scalding temper unleashed itself. 

With his whores Valentino has no need to moderate it; it hasn't ever been a problem. With Adam he should, however. But, he couldn't. He just couldn't maintain that servicing, miserable appearance anymore. He's never been good at controlling his emotions. He solves his problems with guns, fists and violence! It's always been that way, and the methods never failed him.

"I'm going to show you what real pain looks like! I'm going to fucking rip you apart if you don't let me out of this thing! I'll kill you. Then I will kill everyone you love. I'm going to bury your body so far underground you'll never-"

"Alright, that's enough out of you."

Adam's hand slid over his mouth and with daunting horror Valentino felt the latex magically stitch itself back together.

His breathing was completely cut off this time. The wrath roiling in him accelerated his adrenaline and his trashing grew fiercer, more belligerent. 

Still, the latex would. Not. Give!

"Rude motherfucker." Adam grumbled. 

Through the squeaking of the latex and the billowing screeching in Val's ears he managed to hear Adam shuffling. 

Suddenly, another violent kick landed on his stomach. 

And another one.

And another one.

"Lute was right." he kicked him again. Valentino felt his consciousness slipping as the taste of blood filled his mouth. "You really are a manipulative, toxic wretch."

Adam panted above him. But, Valentino couldn't focus on him.

His entire body was screaming in pain. And the shock of the hits thoroughly wore him out.

He couldn't breathe the air he so desperately needed. He didn't care what sounds he was making or what his limbs were doing anymore. Panic flushed his system, plunging him into that familiar, biting sea of agony.

His resolve petered out along with his awareness. Before he could process anything, he felt the suffocation drag him into an endless, oppressive darkness.

●

The soft, linen sheets caressed his skin like a fluffy, dense cloud. Closing his eyes, Valentino allowed himself to drift on it as the rich, calming smell of strawberries wafted through.

"Release all the worries trapped in your mind..." Velvette oozed in a meditative, reflective tone as she gently ran the tips of her pointer fingers over Val's cheekbones.

Valentino smiled, trying not to laugh at her dramatic performance as a therapeutic masseuse. Instead, he sighed, following her instructions.

"Thaaat's it..." she continued, monotone, peaceful. "Relax your body. Let go of the stress..."

"Hmm..." Val breathed, letting his limbs slump on the bed. 

Velvette, sitting cross-legged above his head, was in a perfect position to witness all of his microexpressions. So, when she noticed his lips twitching in amusement, she lightly smacked him on the cheek.

"Ow." he fussed.

"Find your spirit..." she continued, nonplussed and dreamy. As light as a feather, her fingers slowly brushed over Val's eyebrows. "Listen to your core..."

"I'm trying."

She smacked him again, before continuing to caress his features in delicate, intimate touches. "Expel your anxiety... Thaw your muscles... Breathe in, breathe out..."

"Tell me you're not doing that zen yoga crap again." Vox's voice loudly broke the tranquility.

Velvette flopped her hands on the mattress with an exasperated exhale. "Well, not anymore."

Valentino blinked open groggily.

With a stretch, he smiled at Vox's blurry blue figure. "Hey, baby. Why the hate? It's quite nice."

"Of course it's nice, I'm doing it." Velvette pointed out confidently.

"Sí," Valentino agreed, for the sake of sparing his cheek from another slap if nothing else. "He's just jealous, mi amor." then used his top hands to draw an invisible square over his head, indicating to Vox’s screen.

Vox huffed, insulted. "I can still feel." With a raised, cocky eyebrow, he added "You should know."

Oh, so he's in a good mood. The complaining was just his usual grumpy self.

Valentino's smile widened. "Do I?" his tone turned teasing; Vox never failed to lift his mood. "Maybe you should remind me."

Above him, Velvette groaned. "Can you two try not to fuck each other for like five seconds?"

"Why would we do that?" Valentino queried smartly as he watched Vox - very sexily - shrug his coat and bow tie off.

He threw them haphazardly on a nearby chair, then with a smug, satisfied grin he climbed on top of the bed.

Valentino spread his legs, inviting him in. His lower hands wrapped around Vox when the demon plopped himself atop him.

His upper arms began to softly trail gentle lines across the edges of his screen and his own expression mellowed when Vox's eyes slightly drooped from the touch. His hands kneaded small circles into Valentino's waist, his touch warm, his skin soft.

"You guys are insufferable." Velvette objected with an audible grimace, but her tone lacked the genuine bite to support her statement.

"Voxxy, she's so mean to us." Valentino whispered.

"Mean?" Velvette bent at the waist, threateningly towering over him. "I take it you don't want the face massage now?"

"No, I want it." he defended petulantly, closing his eyes.

"Thought so," after a moment she mumbled under her breath "brat."

Vox laughed quietly, the vibrations of it delightfully whizzing through Val's body.

Velvette softly sketched his facial features, commentating balmy harmonies in his ear the entire time. When Val felt a second pair of fingers trace the outline of his jaw, he cracked an eye open.

Vox was smiling at him, a serene smile that he rarely showed to anyone else. Valentino felt something in him tingle; it wasn't disquieting, but it wasn't lukewarm either.

He shifted his gaze upward only to see a beatific glaze overtaking Velvette's expression. She was usually quite strung up, her brain working a hundred miles an hour which accelerated her thoughts and actions. But, now she looked... undeniably peaceful.

A calm, comfortable quiet fell over them again. At some point, Val's upper arms subconsciously slung around Velvette's smaller form, while his lower ones dutifully encased Vox in an equally tight embrace. Wrapped up in each other like this, with both of them caressing his face, it was almost impossible not to be lulled to rest.

"My god," Vox's voice reached through the rosy haze dimming Valentino's senses. "Vel I think we finally managed to shut him up."

Velvette snorted, but otherwise continued to pet him.

"Fuck you both." Valentino sweetly warned.

"Shh, now you be quiet, princess." she didn't abandon her meditative, brooding tone for a second. "Let us do all the work, as usual."

"Okay." he replied with a big, content smile.

"He really is a princess." Vox supplied. "You should get him a tiara."

"Make sure it has red jewels." Val whispered helpfully. "Or pink."

Velvette chuckled softly. "Sure. Anything for you, princess."

●

Agony doused every inch of his being.

His very essence was bathing in it. There was nothing but mind-numbing, endless pain. In his wrists, his back, his face, his lungs, his abdomen, his hips, his legs. It was everywhere.

He didn't know he could feel pain this profound. He had thought the whipping was gruesome, but this took suffering to a whole different level.

Usually, it took a few long hours for a soul to resurrect itself after being asphyxiated. Valentino didn't even want to know how many hours or days have already passed. He didn't want to know how many times he had died, and despite being surrounded by nothing but misery, he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

In the short, merciless intervals of being semi-awake, he thought about Vox and Velvette. They should have already found him by now. What the fuck was taking them so long?!

Did they believe Valentino could get out of this himself? If so, then he vowed to force them into full-body latex and jeer once they realize there was no possible way to break free.

Those thoughts never lasted long, because soon enough, his mind would give up and surrender to the lack of oxygen.

●

Every time he awoke, he did so with a scream. It wasn't voluntary, he couldn't fend off the pain from forcibly drawing it out.

After that, his voice would dwindle. Like an old, cheap candle melting away into nothing. It was better that way. He didn't want to listen to himself screaming. He didn't want those sounds of agony to remain etched in his memory forever.

●

"Oh, darling. Aren't you just gorgeous?" Valentino mumbled as his top hands languidly stroked up Dia's stomach while his lower ones pressed her legs forward by the crook of her knees. "All open and ready for me."

The demoness' chest rose and fell softly, her eyes rolling at her periphery as she tried to make sense of what was happening. 

She'll definitely know in the morning. 

He softly brushed his lips against the inside of her thigh. She didn't react, too high on Valentino's saliva to process the touch.

She laid pliant beneath him, susceptible to his whims, as he began to lay featherlight kisses against her skin. When he indulged his urges by sinking his teeth deep into her thigh, Dia gave a reaction.

Groaning, she slurred "Wh-what?" her breathing quickened.

Valentino ignored her, instead focusing on licking the blood dripping from the wound. She tasted magnificent. 

The bite must have roused her panic for she began to squirm. 

Valentino tightened his hold. "Relax, babygirl. Don't fight," he assured in a tone that was softer than his grip. "it will be less painful that way."

Airy, delightful gasps rumbled out of her. "No..."

Valentino pressed a thumb against the wound, grounding her focus. His hands continued to grope and explore her body, greedy and unobstructed.

"By the time I'm done, you'll reconsider signing that contract."

●

He died. Over and over and over and over.

His lungs... felt like they had disintegrated into volcanic ash.

His ears rung with a chronic, unending shrill. His heartbeat pounded like drums blasting into Valentino's head. It was so loud and rabid the more his focus honed in on it, the more his adrenaline spiked.

And atop those encumbering, unconscionable sensations, his back had begun to heat up at some point. Valentino didn't know much about biology, but he learned enough to know that wounds needed ventilation, they needed to breathe. And the latex prohibited any ounce of air from reaching his skin.

If he hadn't developed an infection before, he certainly had now. His entire body felt feverish. Sweat beaded to the surface of his skin, trying in vain to breach the plastic. It matted and glazed his fur, further suffocating him.

It was unbearable.

It was absolutely unbearable, but he didn't have to endure it for long. Because, time after time he quickly passed out.

●

Valentino's fingers flexed around the squishy bundle in his arms. Through the doorway, he could hear the sounds of despondent sniffling.

A shiver of regret passed through him, but then again that's why he was here. To apologize. Something he rarely ever did, but in this instance it was warranted. 

He gingerly knocked on the door, and his lips creased into a lopsided gloom when the sniffling stopped, but otherwise no one answered. He knocked again and winced when a wounded, defensive voice filtered through:

"What?!"

"It's me amorcito," Valentino solemnly responded, trying to inject as much soothing blithe in his voice as he could. "you've been ignoring my calls. I was getting worried."

His wording might have been misconstrued, because Angel angrily bit "I don't want to talk to you. My shift's done."

Valentino rolled his eyes. When will he understand his shift was done when Valentino said it was done? But, he didn't reprimand him. He was here to apologize, after all. 

"Aw, don't be like that, Angie." he simpered. "Are you still upset about yesterday?"

He received nothing in response. Valentino tried not to take that personally, he had hit Angel quite hard. Multiple times. Naturally, Angel would be upset.

"Things really got out of hand, huh? I know I can get a little crazy sometimes, but you can forgive me, can't you? I also brought you somethiiing."

He paused, hoping his glib honesty would garner him at least an open door. But, still, Angel remained quiet.

"Don't you want to see what it is?" he tried, and for emphasis he lightly bounced the piglet in his hands.

The little creature gave a few surprised snorts. 

"What was that?" Angel piped up. 

"You'll have to let me in if you want to know." Valentino teased in a playful tone he knew Angel couldn't help but get swept away by.

He rocked the piglet again, eliciting another round of curious, adorable squeaks. Valentino held his breath, and just when he felt his hope diminishing, the door creaked open.

Angel barely opened it more than a few centimeters, but it was enough for Valentino to see his bloodshot, tear-stained face. His expression was miserable, with a split lip and a large, purple bruise painting his cheek.

Pushing down a victorious grin, Valentino tilted his head gently to peer down at the other. "Hey, baby." he smiled warmly. "Are you feeling better?"

Angel pouted glumly, his body language askance and reclusive. His gaze landed on the piglet in Val's arms.

His eye widened.

"Why the hell have you got a pig?"

Valentino lifted it up, its small body barely weighing anything. "Oh, this sweet little thing? Well, I thought a very special someone might need cheering up."

And like the coy asshole that he is, Valentino showed off the piglet in a circular motion in the air. Angel's eyes followed it, then he subconsciously cracked the door open slightly further.

He glared menacingly at it. "Why is it so fuckin' cute?"

"Because it's for you." Valentino extended it toward Angel.

The demon simply stared. He blinked blankly as the pig blinked back at him with equally large, curious eyes. Watching them, even in this small interaction, Valentino knew he had hit the jackpot. Already, he could see the downpouring hurt cascading away from Angel's soul.

Tearing his gaze away from the creature, Angel looked at Valentino and hesitantly pointed to himself. "For me?"

Valentino softly nodded.

"But, why?"

His gaze mellowed, saddened by Angel's disbelief. "Because you're my star. Because I want you to be happy here."

Treading carefully, Valentino reached forward and grasped Angel's hand. He ignored how Angel stiffened at the touch.

"Here," he brought his hand up and laid it atop the piglet's fuzzy head. "take him."

Angel shyly caressed it, and instantly light returned into his eyes. He glanced at Val, before deciding to pick up the pig with all four hands.

"...thanks."

In that moment, Valentino knew it had all been worth it.

He would get him a thousand more pets if it meant receiving that gratitude in return, if that's what it takes to keep Angel by his side.

Valentino knew he was a difficult person to love most of the time, but there was no amount of fights or tears that would make him want to give up on Angel. Val might be tougher on him compared to all of his other workers but that was only because Angel was art in its purest form. And gorgeous art like him deserved to be preserved; a face and body that deserved the spotlight; the world deserved all of his existence captured in film. How could anyone blame Val for wanting to exalt it, to elevate it and save Angel from himself. He was an artist after all; Val has to step in otherwise that marvel would be lost to the streets, to drugs and bad decisions and reckless, greedy bastards who selfishly want to waste it on themselves.

That vulnerable personality always craving closeness, that needy desperation that feared abandonment more than anything, those effervescent eyes that were just as stunning carved into half-moons by his laugh as they were soaked in tears. There was beauty in his tragedy. His existence was lethal, and yet that same remarkable uniqueness showed people what it means to be alive.

Valentino will never give him up.

A few minutes passed in content silence. Angel admired the pig, while Valentino admired Angel. Eventually, he spoke up "Does it have a name?"

Valentino pursed his lips in thought. "Does it matter? He's yours, you can name him whatever you like."

"Mhm, I don't know..." Angel mused, scratching behind its ears. "You can't really do much, huh?" he accused it, and the pig tilted its head with a questioning snort. "You're like a potato. A fat potato."

The pig squeaked in protest.

Val raised an eyebrow, enjoying the exchange. If he focused hard enough, he could almost visually detect a soul bond building between the two.

"That's not bad actually..." Angel whispered and the piglet snorted again.

Valentino felt a smile creep up on his face, delicate and genuine.

●

The pain rotted away at his resilience.

If he has any at this point.

A visceral, gut-wrenching agony like nothing he had ever felt before clawed away at his chest cavity. His autonomic system had gone berserk, doing more damage to his body than actually helping it by repeatedly trying to grasp for air.

He was spasming and convulsing uncontrollably. But, his chest wasn't the only thing shriveling into a dense, tangled knot. His abdomen wailed like a tremulous echo fading into an endless, dark tunnel.

He wasn't sure what he was dying from anymore. The suffocation? The starvation? The dehydration? The panic? He was quite certain however that they all took turns killing him with equal efficacy. 

In what felt like an eternity, Valentino has died more times than he has in the entirety of his life spent in hell. And to worsen his predicament, those long-forgotten, bittersweet memories kept invading his weary mind. Memories of the Vees, memories of Valentino with his workers, and memories of Angel Dust which Valentino tried to ignore more than any of them lest risk his heart shattering.

He knows Angel like the back of his hand, he knows him better than Angel knows himself. He may have those idiots at the hotel fooled into thinking he was a good person, that he was capable of change. But, deep down he can't help that broken soul yearning for danger, for the addictive thrill of a high, for the rush of violence and blood. Always, no matter how many times Val hit him or abused him or mistreated him, or how many times Angel's tried to escape him or face a withdrawal, he always came crawling back to Valentino to gulp down the softness of his cruelty.

Because that's who he is. Because he needs him. That's why they were perfect together.

But, the person who would subject Valentino to this torture? Who would plot and scheme and manipulate to have Valentino be forced into literal slavery?

That was not Angel.

He may be a flawed, reckless bitch, but he wasn't cruel. Not like this. And Valentino for the briefest of moments wondered whether this had even been Angel's intention, or had Adam and Lute thwarted his wishes to completely subvert the situation to satisfy their sadistic proclivities?

Whichever one it was, it was Angel's fault. And Valentino will never forgive him.

He will never forgive Angel for this.

Ever.

The pain was so gruesome and unfathomable, he couldn't even keep up the train of thought and before he knew it, he was out like a light.

The last thing he saw against the darkness of the latex was Angel smiling with the hotel crew, overjoyed that Valentino was gone.

●

He awoke with a choked off scream for what felt like the millionth time.

Immediately, he started to suffocate and the unfettered panic was so agonizing it was impossible to become inured to it.

His entire body seized, unable to inhale. But, just when he thought that hateful void would claim him again, he felt the latex rip open. 

A raspy, sickening wheeze sliced the silence as the air struggled into his lungs.

It hurt to breathe, as though his ribcage was littered with rows and rows of thick, sharp needles. He coughed, nearly spewing the acid in his stomach from how hard his muscles strained.

"Oh, yeah, no. It's worse now."

At the sound of that voice, Valentino's entire form stiffened. 

"I don't suppose you want a cup of hot water with honey?" Adam gibed. Valentino couldn't find the strength to be angry... "I hear it's good for a dry throat."

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout and yell and curse and spew the filthiest profanities his depraved mind could conjure. But, he couldn't.

He... couldn't.

The only sounds he was making... were those pathetic, wheezing gasps.

Adam shoved him by the shoulder suddenly, but the plastic squeezed Val too snugly to let him roll over. "Oh, what's this? You're all out of backtalk now? Last time I was here you had a lot to say."

Valentino tried to swallow, but his throat was so dry it felt like gulping down sand. "Wh-" his voice was so shaky he barely recognized it as his own. "what... do you... want?"

"I can't believe this," Adam scoffed with a tetchy laugh. "Lute, did you hear him?"

At that, the billowing storm in Valentino quenched into a dull, terrified breeze.

Lute was here too.

"Dude, how many times do I have to say it? What I want is to see you suffer."

Suddenly, a blunt, violent force brutally struck his thigh.

Valentino screamed, the sound rattled and croaky. Fresh, unmitigated pain blossomed through his entire leg and all he could do was lay there and bear it.

"I want to do this." Adam hit him again, this time on his lower back.

Another wail erupted from Valentino. His body automatically twitched, terrified of the towering figure abusing it.

"And this!" the heavy, baton-like object landed on Valentino's upper arm, harder than the previous ones. "And this!"

Adam reiterated the same phrase over and over as he beat Valentino repeatedly. Each strike varied in intensity and location, but the one thing they shared in common was Adam's consistent disdain.

Valentino couldn't fight him. He couldn't even lift his arms to protect himself. Adam circled him like a hungry predator, picking apart the most vulnerable, weak spots that caused Valentino to howl.

He was shaking. He was shaking so bad, not just his physical form, but his soul also trembled, ravaged from the repeated, ceaseless assaults.

When Adam hit near his wing, right where Lute had nearly torn it off, Valentino released a scream so raw and primal the entire room reverberated it.

"Stop!" the word was out before he could hold it. "Stop... just, stop!"

No... 

No, he can't do this. He can't allow himself to succumb to the anguish. After all that he endured, after all the pain, suffering, cowering humiliation and groveling ingratiation, he can't lose like this.

He can't lose.

He can't lose...

"Now, why would I do that?" Adam answered simply. "After all, this is why you're here."

Valentino felt his soul sink further into despair.

"Anything..." he hated himself. He hated himself so much for this. "I'll give you anything... just, s-say your price and I'll g-give it to you."

He didn't know who spoke those words; he didn't want to believe it was him. Because, speaking them now was vastly different to speaking them while trying to fool Adam and Lute. Because...

Because, now they were real.

They were authentic and genuine and Valentino wanted to die again if only to preclude himself from hearing them uttered out loud.

He felt himself plummet when Adam laughed, loud and wicked.

"The hell have you got to give me?"

Valentino racked his brain for suggestions, all too aware that he shouldn't flounder the opportunity of Adam actually listening to him.

"You said you wanted a girl." he fished, investing all of his remaining strength into forming coherent sentences. "I have plenty. Hundreds of them under my contract. Gorgeous women. The sexiest, most beautiful demons in all of hell."

Adam snickered above him.

Valentino didn't know why he found that funny and the confusion only amped the desperation chipping away at his durability. "You can take your pick! You can have them all, dammit! Just... fucking let me out of this thing!"

Adam's snickering rose into a full-belly laugh, loud and exaggerated.

"Oh! Oh, my god!" he yelled between laughs. "This is too good!"

He still couldn't understand why Adam was laughing, and the need to desecrate everything in sight plowed through him like an avalanche.

"Lute! Lute." he fought for breath. "He doesn't know. Oh fuck, this is hilarious."

The more Adam circumvented the topic, the more Valentino wanted to slam his face into the floor.

"You don't..." another wheeze. "You still haven't noticed?!"

"Noticed what?!" Valentino screamed with a sharp jerk.

Adam laughed for a couple more seconds before eventually forcing himself to calm down. "Ah, shit. I haven't had such a good laugh in ages. Thanks for that."

Valentino's breathing quickened. Not only was he in inexorable, insurmountable pain, but, somehow Adam's ridicule topped all of it.

"Dude, brother, champ, pal, buddy," Adam clamped a hand on his shoulder. "I'll get to the main thing in a sec, just want to get this straight: The reason you are here is to become a better person, or whatever. And you just offered to trade hundreds of lives to save your sorry ass. Talk about misunderstanding the assignment."

"I can line up anyone willing. You can take the ones who want to go." Valentino didn't expect for Adam to worry about consent, but he grasped whatever straws he could.

"Bitch, I don't care about that." It seemed Valentino's initial assessment had been correct. "You think I give a shit what those losers down there want? No. I don't care about them - doesn't matter how hot they are, just like I don't care about you. Besides, could have been worse. At least, you're not unattractive, I mean, sure I guess you're hot. Like... a lot."

"Sir." Lute's voice reproved.

"Those legs, damn..."

"Sir..."

"My point is," Adam groaned. "you're fucking fascinating, do you know that? First, you make their lives a living hell - literally! You whore them out, use them up like toys to make yourself rich and satisfied. Then you offer them up for torture. Tsk tsk tsk," he clucked his tongue. "You really are a nasty piece of work."

"No. No, it's not like that!" he mustered the most heart-rending voice he could summon. "They all signed contracts! All of them! I didn't force them to do anything they didn't agree to. They gave me their consent!"

It wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't a lie either. Valentino didn't know what he was saying anymore. The harrowing pain muddled his thoughts so efficiently he couldn't focus on the schematics of the conversation.

"Oh, please!" Adam's hand tightened - a warning. "Cut the crap, will ya? Fucking Christ, you just can't stop lying, can you?"

A scoff resounded from further away. "Just like I said," Lute's spiteful voice wafted through like a cold whisper of death itself. "we were right to bring him here."

"Mhm," Adam agreed. "absolutely. We'll fix you up nice and good. I thought leaving you here for days at a time might do the trick, but I guess not. You're just plain evil down to the core." he sighed, tapping his fingers against Valentino's shoulder. "So, what to do with you now?"

"We can strap him to a table and light a fire underneath so the latex melts to his skin." Lute suggested.

Valentino froze in shock. Horror diffused every inch of his being as the heavy weight of her words blanketed him like steel.

He has done revolting, unspeakable atrocities to other people, but Adam and Lute were surpassing him in every single aspect.

None of them said anything. The pervasive silence stretched, thinned into a shrill whistle as the sordid, heinous, utterly barbaric images plagued his mind.

"Lute..." Adam gasped, appalled. "...that's genius!"

"No!" Valentino began to thrash.

He didn't have enough energy to do so, but the despicable reality of what they were going to do to him ignited fresh adrenaline.

If they decided to go through with it, Valentino didn't think he would survive it. Not with his mind intact anyway.

Though, deep down, somewhere he didn't dare venture to... he knew his mind was already far from intact.

"Yes." Adam coolly countered. "A couple days in the fryer ought to shape you up."

Then... Adam's hand began to re-stitch the latex over Valentino's mouth.

"No! No!" he screamed. "Wait! Wait! Stop! Just, wait!"

To his surprise, Adam halted.

"I'm sorry," Adam fawned, utterly unapologetic. "did you have any more sluts you wanted to put up for sale?"

"No! No, it's... ugh, okay. Okay!" he barely enunciated the words over his panting. "Fine, I admit. That was wrong. But, you can't blame me! Those whores all had it coming! They're nothing! Just worthless nobodies I found on the street!" he was rambling, unsure if what he was saying was the right or damnable thing. "I gave them a job. I gave them money, fame, shelter! I saved them! They would have gone to waste if it wasn't for me. All I asked of them was to follow basic fucking orders! That's it!" he growled, and realizing his ire was escalating, he smoothed out his abrasive tone. "But, if they're not what you want, we can make a different deal. Anything! You can have anything... lo que quieras, name your price!"

He broke off with a strangled choke, his throat too bruised to allow him to continue.

A deafening, tense quietness fell over them again. Valentino couldn't decide between holding his breath, or inhaling as much air as he could before Adam decided to seal the plastic over his mouth again.

His choice was made for him when Adam muttered "Wow..."

Valentino frowned, dread pooling into his gut and dousing that frail hope that progressively waned with every passing minute.

"Damn..." Adam rued, and he didn't sound angry, or derisive.

He sounded disappointed.

And for some reason that terrified Valentino even more.

"I knew you were... bad, but," Adam spoke slowly, measured. "I didn't know you were this awful."

Fuck.

Fuck...

Val's pulse sped up.

"Now, like I said, I don't give a shit what happens to those guys down below, but watching you run your vile mouth is... making this entire thing so much better."

Adam placed his hand on Valentino's head, light and harmless - for now.

"In any other instance, I might have accepted your offer. A dozen insanely attractive chicks no one would miss warming my cock all day sounds great. But, I would trade it in a heartbeat if it means I get to hurt you."

The more Adam spoke, the more Valentino became fidgety and afraid.

"Heaven... will celebrate me after I reform you. They will wave fucking banners and flags congratulating me. Those whores you're talking about? - Are probably praising my name like a god for saving them from you. And I wouldn't give that up for the world."

Valentino's mouth opened, but after realizing he had no counterpoint, he quickly shut it again. Because... he wasn't sure whether Adam was right or not...

Angel's face intruded his vision, bright, joyous.

Happy.

"Besides..." that same dreadful laugh whittled from Adam. "you wouldn't be able to give me their souls even if you wanted to."

At that moment, something in Valentino shifted.

He couldn't identify its nature, but he knew he didn't like it.

He didn't like it one bit.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, not wanting to know the answer.

He didn't need to look at Adam to know he was smiling. "You really don't know?"

"Know what?!" he asked, deja vu blipping through his body.

"That you don't own their souls anymore."

For a moment, Valentino pretended he didn't exist.

He pretended none of this was real because he couldn't imagine such terror as he was feeling infesting the world.

That daunting, ominous sensation proliferated like a disease.

It was silent, so unsuspecting in its movements it slithered like a venomous snake in his veins. But, it's poison was virulent. It was corrosive and devastating as it rotted away at his tender flesh. It was a biting, aggressive monster that caused his heart to beat so fast he feared it might break his ribcage.

"Wh- You..." the words toppled over themselves. "You're lying."

"That's rich coming from you." Adam snidely remarked. "But, no. I'm not lying. Didn't you notice their souls aren't in your possession? You're no longer a citizen of hell. You belong to us now, bitch. Those laws don't apply for you. Winners don't play by those rules. We don't sell each other, unlike you savages. All those poor souls are returned exactly where they belong: out of your reach."

His breathing picked up faster than he could handle it. He began to hyperventilate as he painstakingly realized that thread of ownership to his thralls...

...was gone.

The vacant, cavernous pit in his soul wasn't hollow because he was in a different dimension where he can't access their chains like he had stupidly thought, but because he no longer had any claim over them.

"Fuck..." he sobbed out, a thick lump rising in his throat along with his tears. "Fuck!"

Everything he had worked for...

His empire.

His career.

His fortune.

His home.

...all gone.

His entire life's work... was all gone in less than a second via a decision that wasn't even his.

His soul shattered at the thought of Vox and Velvette.

What will happen to them? Will Valentino's workers seek retaliation? A transient image of hundreds upon thousands of pissed off, begrudging, dangerous sinners swarming the tower flashed in his mind. The possibility was ruinous, but what worried him more was the possibility of-

...was the possibility of Vox and Velvette not caring enough to look for him now that he wasn't an overlord anymore.

He... wasn't an overlord anymore. They didn't need him. He was useless...

He wasn't an overlord anymore...

The sentence torturously rebounded through his head over and over and over.

Angel!

Oh god, Angel..! He... he can't lose him. He can't lose him!

How could he have been this fucking oblivious! His entire world was crashing down. He was breathing so fast he was going to pass out again. Growing increasingly lightheaded, his whole body shook uncontrollably.

None of this was his fault! He hadn't done anything to deserve it. Lucifer made that deal, not him. He shouldn't be here! He shut his eyes, hoping to anyone who listened to let all of this be just a terrible, awful nightmare.

It was just a nightmare.

It was just a nightmare.

It was just a nightmare!

"Let's see how you like feeling powerless." Instantly, that loathsome voice grounded him back to reality. "Like you made your workers feel every single day."

"You can't do this!" he roared, panicked, horrified, tactless.

...beaten.

"I already have." Adam replied curtly, too calm against the destructive, wailing storm of grief overwhelming Valentino. "Karma's a bitch, ain't it?"

Valentino heaved, his panic skyrocketing. Sobs, moans and grunts mingled with his gasps, creating an incomprehensible track of desperation that vaguely registered in his brain as a panic attack.

His heart split in two when he felt Adam's hand muffle the noises to magically seal the latex back.

Valentino writhed, erratic, wild, as he violently jerked and yanked his head to dislodge Adam's grip. But, it was unyielding.

Too soon, his breathing was cut off again.

He began to suffocate.

"Good chat."

Valentino screamed.

He screamed so loud he tired himself out before the asphyxiation could defeat him again. 

His unfettered panic nudged him over that precipice of exhaustion and the fire in his lungs carried him into that same, familiar darkness.

●

He lifted his arms to cover himself, his whole body shivering from the cold.

Snowflakes sauntered gently from the night sky. With an insouciant expression, Valentino watched them descend on his scarcely-clad arms and shoulders. 

However, his features brightened when he felt something warm and heavy wrap around him.

"Cariño, ven aquí. You're shivering all over." the man's deep, husky voice said.

Valentino glanced at him. The man's face was contorted in ample concern as he carefully wrapped his coat around Valentino's shoulders.

A red, cheeky blush snuck onto Valentino's cheeks. He gingerly stepped into the other's waiting arms, accepting the kind gesture. "Gracias, señor."

The man smiled, and Valentino immediately felt the chill in his limbs thaw. He has already done so much for Valentino, but that smile was always the gift Valentino looked the most forward to.

As they walked the empty, melancholic road, Valentino thought about how lucky he was to have found Alejandro. 

Chapter Text

"Mamá?" Val hugged his mother tighter. "Why did the boy lie?"

She quickly glanced down, her big brown eyes softening when they landed on him. She shrugged "Because, he wanted to be funny. And he thought playing pranks on others would be amusing."

Valentino furrowed his brows. "But, why?" he asked again, genuine puzzlement trickling from his tone.

The corner of his mom's lips twitched upward. "Because..." she paused, the gleam in her eyes turned sad, mournful. "the boy wanted attention."

Valentino felt that sadness transfer to him and he plopped his head on her shoulder. "But, doesn't he has friends?"

"Maybe." she kissed his forehead. "Maybe he just felt bored. Guarding sheep all day can get lonely. So, he lied that there was a wolf nearby so all the elders would gather."

"That's stupid." he remarked honestly.

His mother laughed. "Yes, mi corazón. It was." she turned the page of the book and instead of directly narrating the text, she elucidated with her own words. Just as she always did so Valentino wouldn't grow bored of the story. "The elders were angry that he lied, and the boy promised not to do it again. But, the next night he was once more left to guard the sheep and he broke his promise."

Valentino rolled his eyes with a scoff.

"He rang the alarm that a wolf was near and the sheep were in danger." her fingers gently threaded through his short black hair, the motion soporific. "The men came with their guns, prepared to slay the beast. When they arrived the boy started to laugh. He mocked them, and they became angry. Which is why, when a wolf did attack the sheep on the third night, and the boy called the alarm?" she turned the page "... no one came."

"Nooo." Val whispered even though he's heard the story before.

"The boy screamed for help, but everyone ignored him." her tone dropped to a suspenseful one. "He yelled and cried out, and no one came."

"Because they all think he is lying again." 

"Sí," she nodded. "the next morning, the elders came. They expected to see a herd of happy, healthy sheep. But, what they found instead was the boy crying in the shed. The sheep were gone."

"He deserve it." Valentino bit, then rubbed his eyes as he stifled a yawn.

"Hmm," his mother hummed, thoughtful. "do you think-?"

In the distance, a loud, nasal snore erupted in the living room.

His mom closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and clenched her teeth. Valentino saw the agitation simmering in her, even though she tried her best to shield him from the fact that she clearly didn't like his father much.

"Do you really think so?" his mother asked then, brushing away the annoyance. "Do you think the boy deserved to be abandoned and blamed for everything?"

"Yes?" Val said, slightly more unsure this time. "He lies. If he don't lie the elders would have kill the wolf and the sheep would be alive."

"Mhm, yes. They would have. But, do you think they should have left the boy all alone out there?"

Valentino blinked, realizing he hadn't thought of the story that way before. "No? It is peligroso."

"Exactly," his mother kissed his forehead again. "And do you think that maybe the boy was too young to watch over the sheep? He's nearly your age."

Valentino didn't think he could guard so many sheep. Not against wolves. "Yes."

"Do you think maybe the boy was scared and he didn't want to be all alone?"

"Yes. But, you say he is bored." Val rebuked.

"One can be both, mi amor." she put the book down and snuggled closer to face him. "There's always more sides to one story. And people can do the wrong thing when they're afraid. In the end, the sheep got hurt, even though they didn't do anything wrong."

"Like papping waper."

His mother's face contorted in confusion.

"You rip waper to get candy." he elaborated.

"Wrapping paper." she corrected with a laugh in her voice.

Valentino flushed with shame. "Wappring pawper."

"Wrapping paper."

"Wrapp...ing... paper."

"Yes! Well done, mijo!" she hugged him tight. "Your English is getting better every day."

Valentino brimmed with pride. He knew how much him learning English meant to her. He didn't understand why, but if it made her happy he would do it.

"Why didn't he ask someone to help?" he didn't feel particularly self-conscious for his abundance of questions. His mother always encouraged his curiosity and ability for critical thinking.

"Maybe he was shy, or embarrassed. Or maybe there wasn't anyone who wanted to help him. He lied so much, eventually, no one believed him when he was telling the truth. Even when he was screaming for help, they all still thought he was trying to trick them."

Valentino fell silent as he processed the words. He always looked to his mother for guidance on what was right or wrong, because she was incredible to him. She was smart, and capable, and above all, kind.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, warm and snug under the blankets, wrapped in each other's embrace.

"Mamá?" Val asked in a small voice, sheepish about disturbing the pleasant quiet.

"Mm?"

"...why did they tell him to watch sheep?"

"You mean the elders?"

"Sí," he felt his eyes drooping, but he was curious so he asked. "why is he left alone?"

Her hand continued to softly brush his hair and it was the last sensation Valentino felt before he began to drift off to sleep.

"Because, mijo... people can be cruel. They can be lazy, and mean, and selfish. And there are many of them out there in the world who can do bad things to you. Which is why you have to remember," her grip on him squeezed. "you always have to be careful."

Valentino had practically already gone to sleep, but he had enough energy to assuage her concerns. "Yes, mami."

●

Darkness surrounded him from every direction.

It wasn't the silent, enveloping kind of darkness, but a suffocating void that sucked all the life out of his soul.

His body was gone. He simply stared into the abyss. He couldn't shut his eyes even if he tried to.

His name...

He couldn't remember his name.

Did he even have one..?

It probably wasn't that important if it didn't exist.

But, while his physical form reflected itself as nothing but a phantom figment of his imagination, the darkness wasn't devoid of matter entirely.

In front of him, so far away yet so close, stood a hooded, faceless figure.

He couldn't move toward it.

He wanted to run from it.

But, it was familiar. He knew that figure.

They've been meeting more frequently as of late.

It reeked of...

He wasn't sure what it emanated. It felt ominous, arcane. Something solemn he's felt before but somehow still felt like he was experiencing it for the first time.

It was a foreboding sensation haunting his nightmares. Plaguing his deepest inhibitions. Choking him raw.

The figure twitched its head in his direction.

The darkness shifted. Its depths morphed before his very eyes as though sentient. Alive.

The figure slowly turned around and behind its back a long, lethal scythe appeared.

The void began to wail.

The figure's hood dangerously lifted, revealing a bony jaw.

Then a skinless face.

Then hollow, empty eye sockets.

The darkness converged around him. Hungry. Eternal. The apex predator of the universe itself.

A deep, wraithlike sigh left the skeletal figure.

He couldn't move.

The sigh grew louder.

It stared directly at him.

And louder.

It was coming for him.

And louder!

Valentino screamed.

●

A bright, blue light stretched beyond his eyes' periphery, as far as the world can see. 

Valentino supposed he was looking at the world. His world.

Vox's smile never left as he gazed lovingly up at Valentino. His hand so warm covering Val's own. His lips so soft against Val's knuckles. His smile so sharp amidst the danger of Valentino's presence. He was beautiful. Intoxicating.

Fierce.

So unique and above the measly, useless rabble populating hell's streets. A brimming star illuminating a desolate, dismal landscape.

The fire in his eyes was invincible and it sparked when Val cupped Vox's screen. It continued to burn as they kissed. It burned so much Valentino felt it light up his entire heart.

●

This is what he gets. After everything he's done for them. 

Death.

Death over and over and over raising its scythe above his head.

After everything he's sacrificed. After everything he's given them. His workers never showed gratitude properly, but Valentino had truly been a fool to think maybe they'd at least realize his value.

If it weren't for him they would be begging for scraps amidst the rest of the trash scattered over hell. He protected them. He took them under his wing. He fabricated the very politics of hell. He brought order into the city. It might not have been the hierarchy that satisfied everyone, but no one else could have done it like him. No one else deserved to rule it like him.

He was irreplaceable.

He was a pillar so many souls circled, seeking his guidance, his orders, his firm hand, unable to walk away lest risk getting lost. They would all rather walk on hot coals than look away from his grandeur.

It seemed, the coals have cooled.

The rabble has grown tired of the hierarchy.

And the betrayal hurt more than the asphyxiation.

No one has come for him.

Not Vox.

Not Velvette.

Not his employees.

Not his guards.

No one.

As far as pimps go, he wasn't even that bad - despite Adam and Lute's proclamations. He should have been more cruel. More ruthless. More vicious. He should have given those whores exactly what they deserved. They never would have survived the things Valentino survived. He - the person Valentino has been trying to forget for years - would have broken them completely.

Val knew he was a monster - conceited, explosive, violent and unforgiving. He didn't mind. He would gladly be a monster if it meant keeping himself safe. He needed to be to maintain his position because, as he always told Angel whenever he dared to insinuate they were equals "That's just how it works, baby."

He still upholds those beliefs. This was hell. There was no room for kindness or leniency. It was a game of survival. It was every sinner for themselves and Valentino had no qualms about stepping on others to climb to the top. All is fair in death and war. Either he fulfilled the role of predator, or suffer as pray.

Val had been too kind and too lenient. Had he grown so comfortable in his impunity he forgot the game that was always at play? He should have expected the worthless, spoiled scum he had saved to turn on him so swiftly.

But, he supposed he was worthless now too...

He had no souls to command anymore. They stole the money and positions he traded them, bled him dry and threw him to the wolves without changing a shade.

His clubs and studios have probably been pillaged and desecrated. And he doubted he could summon his smoke as strongly as he could now that the source of his power has been snatched away.

...he wouldn't blame his Vees if they didn't bother to find him. Why would they? He wasn't an overlord anymore. What use is he to them?

Perhaps that's why they haven't come for him yet.

Perhaps they're not even trying to...

●

Broken furniture littered the penthouse. The windows were shattered, glass strewn haphazardly around; the lights killed, plunging the room in darkness.

Darkness, even that familiar, stunning blue light couldn't disperse because it laid broken on the floor. Vox's body was slumped against the ground, exhausted, his screen cracked, his antenna bent, his body covered in bruises and scratches.

Valentino stared sullenly at the product of their incurable tempest. His knuckles were scraped raw, with fragments of Vox’s screen buried in the bloodied flesh.  He couldn't get up, the aftershocks of Vox’s electricity sizzling through his body and dazed mind; his frizzled, charred antenna still steaming from Vox's violence. 

It was almost poetic how volatile their love was. 

It was a broken, anomalous thing. They were broken.

And they always will be.

●

There was yelling again.

On most nights Valentino ignored it, but a mixture of curiosity and boredom prompted him to peek into the living room where his mother and father were locked in a heated argument.

Or more accurately, his mother discharged her struggles as his father pretended to listen, reclined on the sofa.

She would always tell Valentino they loved each other, but Val wasn't stupid, or blind. His father wasn't a bad man, he loved his wife just as he loved Valentino, but he never showed that love. Instead he hid it beneath a dank, unapproachable layer of laziness and inconsideration. His mother did all the work. He never saw his father helping her, or clean, or cook, or wash their clothes, or fix the lights, or go to work. And whenever he did lift a finger, it was always after his mother had to practically beg and nag him to do it. He didn't make her happy.

And he never read Valentino bedtime stories like she did every single night. He never held him, or complimented him, or brushed his hair, or hugged him when he cried. He never told him he loved him.

He was just... there.

And the proof of his emotional absence in their lives reflected itself clearly from his unaffected expression, his evasive gaze, his disinterest, as Melina picked up littered bottles, leftovers and junk from the room.

Valentino felt his heart clench for her. Not only did she work two full-time jobs to save them from poverty from what he's managed to gleam, but for the entirety of his nine years of living she had always been the one taking care of the home. Even now, with a second kid on the way, she worked.

And she consistently tried to contain how exhausted she was from Valentino, smiling against the smattering of tears held in her weary eyes.

But, he knew.

And he didn't want that life for her. He wanted her happy. Relaxed. Safe. Free.

And he vows to give that to her when he grows up.

●

The memories temporarily allayed the suffering. At least, the more pleasant ones did.

Some weren't so palliative. Filled with blood, sorrow and grief reaching back decades ago, they fueled the pain overflowing every single inch of Valentino's body. 

There wasn't much he could do but relive those memories, whether he wanted to or not.

Over and over and over death reclaimed him. He couldn't stop it. He couldn't fight it. He couldn't do anything about his predicament. He was weak, tied down and injured so badly he couldn't even flail against the latex. 

The fire in his lungs had grown to an unimaginable degree. He had tried everything to escape. Everything. He had tried seducing Adam and Lute, repelling them, lying to them, deceiving them, attacking them, simpering and degrading himself for them, threatening them, provoking them, bribing them. Everything except-

...he hasn't begged yet.

But, he doubted they would show him mercy even if he did plead. It wouldn't matter. It wouldn't make a difference. Him begging wouldn't change anything. Right?

The choice wasn't his to make anyway. The latex pressed against his mouth, prohibiting him from speaking.

"Let this be your first lesson," Lute's voice waved through the sounds of his agony as he remembered her words. "Slaves don't get a choice."

"No, bitch. You are a slave now. Get it right."

Valentino tried to dispel the voices, but they kept coming back.

"You really are a nasty piece of work."

"You have terrorized hell for far too long, it's about time someone cleaned up the stain. By the time we're done with you, you won't even remember the person you were. We will fix you. You will be nothing more than a mindless bug, loyal and obedient, as you should have been from the start."

His body felt foreign at this point, like a distant sensation that merely registered as a phantom limb, no longer a part of him. And judging by the fresh, searing patches haunting his skin, Valentino was quite certain he had been beaten while unconscious. Repeatedly.

"What's my name?"

"Master."

The fire in Valentino's lungs decimated him from the inside, incinerating him to barely a speck of dust.

"This is what you get for stepping out of line. You could have avoided this if you had watched your behavior in front of your superiors, slave."

"You. Are not. A person anymore. You don't have a home to go back to. You are nothing but property, you don't get to just leave."

The simmering light of his soul flickered, waning with every second he spent unable to breathe. It was so far from the powerful, blinding sun that left others breathless.

"Don't tell me you're shy now. Spread them." Adam's voice rebounded through his head again.

"Spread them." a different man whispered this time.

Valentino's entire body bristled.

It was a voice he hasn't heard in an age. A voice he thought death had saved him from so long ago. A voice that would break him if he allowed it to infiltrate his mind.

He fortified his will against it for as long as he could before the light in his core completely died out.

The voices followed him into that inescapable darkness.

●

Valentino kicked out at the man on top of him. He fiercely punched at his arms, but the client wasn't budging.

Panic overtook his body and he writhed beneath him, desperate to remove the pillow over his face. Unfortunately, the man was strong, far stronger than Valentino.

He didn't understand how anyone could get off on this, but he didn't object. If the client wanted to suffocate him, Valentino will let him. If the client wanted him to fight back, Valentino will fight back. If the client wanted him to lay still and take it, Valentino will lay still and take it. If the client wanted to fuck him while doing it, Valentino will keep his mouth shut and his legs open.

That's what Alejandro always reminded him. And Valentino didn't want to disappoint him. He was young, and he had to seize the opportunity to prove himself to his employer while he could. He didn't want Alejandro to throw him away because he couldn't handle some rough treatment. He had already done so much for Valentino; he has taken him under his wing, offered him his protection, supplied his family with a hefty sum of money, showed him love. This was the least Valentino could do in return.

Besides, when the session ends Alejandro always waits for him with an open, warm embrace. Valentino will endure the agony, he will endure the asphyxiation, and he will endure the sharp pain of every thrust, because it will all be worth it in the end. 

He couldn't have asked for anyone better to take care of him. He needed Alejandro. 

He needed Alejandro.

He needed Alejandro, and he repeated the sentence like a mantra as the client used and manipulated his body to his heart's content.

It was fine. Valentino could take it. He would handle anything for Alejandro.

●

When he woke up again, he didn't do it with a scream, or a gasp, or a groan, or a cry.

...he did it with a broken sob.

It bullied its way out of his chest. He couldn't stop it. A thick, impenetrable lump welded itself in his throat which had already dried to a soul-shattering degree.

His body was shaking heavily, wracked with sobs aggressively summoned by that forgotten, buried memory.

No... no no no no, please... please, he can't think about Him. Not here. Not now.

He didn't know where the memory came from, and it completely disintegrated the last remaining hope he clung to. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't shrug off the latex, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe! He needed to remove the pillow but he can't move!

No! Oh, god, no... he can't... he's not there! He's not back at that house! Alejandro can't hurt him! Val's in a cell, in heaven, locked in latex. He wasn't back there. He wasn't there!

The panic conquered his body completely. It dragged him down into a depthless pit of dread and terror and before Valentino knew it, he was out like a light.

With a final, crippling thought, he thanked that darkness for alleviating the suffering.

●

"Please!" Val screamed as the men continued to brutalize his body. "Señor!"

Howls of agony erupted from his throat at every merciless punch and kick. He curled in as much as he could, his knees to his chest and his arms over his head. He felt so small.

But, it did nothing to stop the assault. His ribs, his arms, his legs, his stomach all radiated with pain. Blood dripped from his mouth, his split lip, the numerous cuts and scrapes on his skin.

"Please! Please! I'm sorry!" he sobbed, tears cascading like a river down his face. "Señor! I'm sorry! Por favor! Lo siento!"

Alejandro simply pinned him under an icy, emotionless glare. 

After an eternity, he calmly lifted up a hand. 

His men backed off.

Valentino trembled on the floor, too shaken and afraid of moving. His sobs infused the room which had gone deafeningly quiet.

"I'm disappointed in you, Tino, mi tesoro, mi estrella." the words elicited a loud, tremulous cry from Val.

"Lo s-siento..." he croaked out, wretched and pitiful.

"I don't know if I'm more disappointed that you wanted to quit," he continued, ignoring Valentino's pleas. "...or that you thought you would succeed."

His eyes turned dark, even colder than when he watched his men beat Valentino senseless. 

Valentino felt a chill run down his spine. Alejandro's men were ruthless, but there was nothing more terrifying than that expression.

"You have a gift, cariño. I'm not letting you waste it. What else can you do besides work for me? There is no leaving for you." he said more softly, but the danger in his tone didn't vanish. "There is not a place in this country you can hide where I can't find you. It's you and me, hasta el final."

"I didn't señor... I didn't try to leave," Valentino told the truth. "I swear, I j-just... wanted to see my familia..."

Valentino couldn't remember the last time he's been allowed to visit them. He couldn't remember when this bedroom became so suffocating. He couldn't remember when it became his home...

"You will see your familia when you've earned it." Suddenly, Alejandro sat up. The blithe veneer over his features didn't disappear as he straightened his suit.

"He's all yours. Make sure he never thinks about running again." he snapped his fingers as he walked out of the room with the gait of a very rich and very powerful man. He didn't spare a single glance behind.

"No... No! Señor! Wait! Please!" Valentino yelled after him, but he never came back.

He shouted his name and implored him to call his men off, but Alejandro never returned. Not even when they flipped Val over on his back and pinned his arms to the floor, not even when they wretched his legs apart, not even when Valentino begged them to stop, not even when they tore him open and violated him for their own pleasure over and over again.

They took what they wanted from him, then left him alone and unable to move for an entire week.

●

He roused back to life, this time, it didn't take long before he was reduced to ragged, splintered sobs.

He couldn't take any air in, which resulted with his body seizing. He didn't make a sound anymore, he couldn't. He simply twitched and convulsed on the spot, his soul crying while his body was dying. A never-ending, perpetual cycle of agony.

He has never been in so much pain. Ever.

It wasn't the tangible kind of misery. It wasn't something his body could detect as a threat. It was an inner, festering suffering that cocooned his entire being.

He didn't know when he had started to long for the darkness to permanently claim him, but he didn't have the strength to contemplate it. He didn't care. He just didn't care. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

He just prayed for the moment when death extended its hand again. Initially, he had recoiled from it in fear, but now he simply slid his hand over its own, ready to let it take him away to a more peaceful place.

This time, death didn't come for him, because suddenly the latex over his mouth split open.

He heaved in air, coughing and sputtering as it irritated his fragile lungs. It burned. It burned his entire chest but he couldn't stop breathing it in, his nervous system killing him in its attempt to save him.

He hadn't even heard his captors approach.

"Well, isn't that just music to my ears." Adam goaded, mordant, and Valentino wanted to die again if only so he couldn't hear the victorious mockery in his voice.

"Ghh... mm..." the words abandoned him.

"Oof, sheesh, save your breath buddy."

With the latex no longer obfuscating the sounds of his pain, the sobs and gasps breached louder into the space. Valentino winced, instinctively trying to hide his face into the floor to stifle them.

"There we go. Nice and easy." Adam caressed his nape in faux sympathy as Valentino slowly came down from the panic. "You wanna know something interesting?"

Valentino didn't answer. He couldn't. His voice was gone.

"In the last three days you died of a heart attack four times! Yeah. That's gotta be a bitch to deal with on top of everything else you're going through. We knew what was happening of course. We have records of everything, and I personally volunteered to take authority over yours."

A hand hovered over Val's chest, right where his heart beat. Weak. Flagging.

Defeated.

"Maybe if the dark sludge for a heart you have in here wasn't so cold, it might have been stronger." his voice lowered and Valentino barely had the energy to comprehend his words. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep and never wake up again.

"Too bad it isn't." he said solemnly. "If you had been a better person you wouldn't even be in this situation. All choices have consequences, mate. Take it from me. And it's about time someone put you in check."

Drool dribbled from Val's mouth, the tears still slid against the plastic and frail, irregular sobs tumbled freely out of him. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, but he couldn't find it in himself to worry. He was so beyond the humiliation and embarrassment they had no effect on him anymore.

"You're probably wondering why we haven't roasted you to a crisp like Lute suggested," Valentino blanched; his brain so desecrated it hadn't even wandered to that question. "And there's a very good reason for it. You see, tomorrow is a very special day. It marks your one month anniversary here. And we thought that deserved an equally special celebration." 

Valentino sobbed harder. He didn't know what he was crying about anymore. The pain? The fact that he's been here for a month which should never have happened? Or that Adam and Lute were going to burn him alive tomorrow?

He couldn't take it. He couldn't fucking take Adam's gloating. He couldn't take the suffocation of the latex. He couldn't take the abuse anymore. Feral, rotting desperation annihilated him from the inside, skyrocketing to a dangerous level.

Something in Valentino finally broke.

"Please..."

The word escaped his mouth before he could stop it. And in that moment, it felt like time itself rippled.

"P-please... I... ngk... please..."

He hasn't begged ever since he dropped in hell. He has refused to let history repeat itself. Hell had been a new opportunity to start over. To build his life anew and learn from his past mistakes. So that he would never repeat them. So that he would never give anyone power over him again. No matter how dire, critical or exigent the situation got, he hadn't begged.

Not once.

He had thought that wouldn't change with these angels. He had thought he was stronger. He had thought he was indomitable. He had thought he would be home by now, safe and protected. 

He had been a fool.

"Well, would you look at that?" Adam remarked. "I knew you'd break before the month ran out. And you nearly made it! Nearly. You only had one more day to go! Lute owes me twenty heaven bucks."

Valentino couldn't focus, the unbridled, boiling shame ripped his soul apart. It was excruciating. His entire body was shaking. It was shaking so badly, like a loose, sickly leaf barely holding against a turbulent wind.

"Unfortunately, begging won't help you." To Valentino's utter, heart-crushing horror, Adam began to seal the latex over his mouth again. "Do you really expect me to fall for that again, you lying prick? You think you can just say some pretty apologies and all is forgiven?"

"No! No, please!" he pleaded, unsuccessfully wringing his head away from Adam, too weak to fight back. "Please! I'm b-begging you! I can't..! I can't! Please don't! I'll do anything... anything!"

"As much as I love the sound of your desperation," he riposted cruelly. "you still have to be punished for what you did. Gotta make sure the lesson sticks, so that you never think about attacking your masters again."

Make sure he never thinks about running again. Alejandro's voice wafted through his debilitated conscience.

Another bout of sobs racked Valentino. "Wait! No! Stop! Please! Stop!" he screamed, hoarse, wounded and unimaginably frantic. Desperation gripped him, unrelenting. But, Adam didn't stop. "Please! No! Vox! Vox!"

Adam halted.

"Holy shit," he puffed a derisive laugh. "are you seriously calling for your boyfriend to come save you right now? Oh my god, that's so pathetic!" he laughed, boisterous.

Valentino tuned him out, painstakingly aware of how much he needed Vox. He needed him so badly.

Vox's face invaded his vision, blank and ashamed.

Vox... would be ashamed of him. He wouldn't help Valentino, he wouldn't pity him or comfort him or hold him. He would look down at him and lament the death of the invincible, mighty overlord he knew so well.

Val didn't know where that overlord dissapeared to, he wasn't in this room, not anymore. Instead, in his place stood a trembling, weak shell of a man who neither looked, acted nor sounded like the great overlord Valentino.

If Vox saw him now? He would be disappointed. 

"Ngh... please..!" Valentino wept, on the brink of shutting down completely.

Adam's hand tightened on his nape, causing Valentino to flinch. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Valentino racked his brain which was additionally hampered by the panic and terror pillaging him. Eventually, he kicked himself for not realizing sooner.

"Master," he hushed. "please."

Adam won.

He had won and Valentino didn't even care.

He just wanted the pain to stop...

"Hmm, nope!" Adam piped up and Valentino's entire world flipped.

"N-no..." he choked, raspy and ruined. "No... please no..!"

He was cut off when Adam finished sealing the latex. "See you tomorrow, bitch."

Valentino screamed and begged, but to no avail. Again, unable to breathe he began to suffocate.

But, Adam didn't stop there.

After cutting off Val's air, he proceeded to land swift, vicious kicks to his abdomen and legs.

The blooming pain barely registered. Valentino couldn't even process it anymore. Bruises seeped into his skin like ink in water and he didn't need to see them to know they were horrid and gruesome. He cried in the confines of the suit, unable to do anything against his assailant. He laid there, limp, choking, convulsing and whimpering as Adam beat him.

And when death's hand finally entered his field of vision, Valentino eagerly accepted it.

Chapter Text

"Where is it?"

"Fuck you!" the coral demon, Nigel, screamed as he thrashed against the firm grip of Vox’s guards.

Vox released a closed-mouthed exhale, stifling his anger.

"I'll ask again," he leaned toward the kneeling figure. His tone dropped as his left eye started to swirl. "where is it?"

"I... fuck... off-" the demon's defiance tapered out. His mouth gently dropped open, his features slacked and his head tilted, dazed. "It's... ngh..."

Neither the blood cascading down the sinner's face, nor the various, swollen bruises painting it dissipated Vox's contempt. Vox amped the hypnosis, his claws digging into the flesh of his palms which he pointedly hid behind his back.

"Where is it?" the command wafted through like a dangerous omen.

Nigel gurgled, but after a moment, he obliged. "Safe... behind..." a grunt escaped him as he strained against the order in vain. "... the wardrobe."

Vox whirled at the wall of computers. "Did you catch that?"

"Heard it loud and clear, sir." the officer's voice responded through the telecom.

"Find it." 

"Copy that."

Vox watched from the safety of his office as his men trashed the sinner's apartment. Their brutish wrecking elicited a panicked shriek from the distance. Yelling interfered in the footage but the officer didn't turn toward the source. His sole focus was aimed at the built-in steel safe being broken into by a couple of his armed men.

Vox impatiently tapped his foot as he waited for the safe to be cracked. When a high-pitched pang erupted followed by a smoggy puff of smoke, the safe opened.

The men shuffled to clear it out, thrusting the camera feed into an incomprehensible haze.

Vox leaned over his desk to get a better view, frustration, nausea, rage and anticipation boiling him from the inside.

"Sir," the officer's voice cracked through. "we found it." he said, lifting a sleek USB drive into the camera's view.

Vox released an anxious breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax into a more natural posture.

"Good." he said, more calmly this time. "Bring it to me."

"What about the detainee?" the officer asked. "Should we have them dispatched?"

As the officer turned toward the suspect, the camera caught the image of a huddled, terrified ram demon handcuffed and surrounded by officers.

"No!" Nigel screamed. He thrashed against the guards, but they only tightened their hold, pushing him further down. "No! Don't you fucking dare! They had nothing to do with this! It's me! It was all me! I stole the data! Kill me!"

Vox regarded them with disinterest. An unsympathetic raised eyebrow and silence was his only answer as he mulled over their fate. The injustice of this mediocre, vain sinner having his partner safe and sound, still down in hell, while Vox's was forcefully kept in a different dimension, whisked Vox's mercy askew. His indignation and anger soared.

"Sir?" the officer called when Vox didn't give a response.

He clucked his tongue. "No. Don't kill them. Tie them to a radiator so they can't leave the apartment."

After a moment of obvious confusion at the obscure order, the officer unquestionably answered "Yes, sir."

Vox terminated the feed. All the computers snapped to black.

He turned around with a long sigh and inclined against his desk, enjoying the momentary quiet after a successful job.

"Thank you." Nigel's surprised voice came.

Vox tilted his head, studying the other. He looked awful, somehow the stress of watching his loved one's life be determined by his boss must have scared the life out of the poor man.

Vox's mouth quirked up in a vague, lopsided grimace. "For what?"

The barest hint of uncertainty passed through his features before he timidly offered "For... letting them live?"

Vox's grimace widened into a skewed grin and he saw the visible chill that sprung up the other's spine.

"I don't see a point in wasting bullets on a dead person."

His voice was cutting, calculating, and Nigel bristled from it.

"But... you told them not to kill-"

"Oh, they won't kill your beloved." Vox interrupted. "You will."

Nigel stilled, his efforts to wiggle free evaporating like water on a burning sun. His eyes widened as his brows furrowed, confusion, apprehension, fear, detestation all presented in a panicked mix on his face.

"I would never." he gritted, and Vox nearly admired him for his loyalty. It was a rare thing in hell.

Vox took a few steps toward Nigel, slow and deliberate, and stopped before him. His lour and proud stance exuded his discontent.

He gave Nigel one wicked, sharp-toothed smile before he addressed his guards. "Take him to the operation room."

At his feet, Nigel gasped in horror.

"And tell them to replace all of it. Don't just add a regular chip. Replace all of it."

"The... entire amygdala... sir?" one of the guards asked skeptically, evident discomfort in their tone.

He should have summoned his usual guards, not these new amateur trainees.

Vox's eyes narrowed. "All of it. His whole brain."

"NO!" Nigel sharply jerked, his scream echoing through the spacious office. "No! Fuck! Please!"

"Ah ah ah," Vox tutted as his guards grunted from the effort of holding Nigel down. "Nigel you've worked at this company for how long? Thirteen long years. In that time you had every opportunity to learn our company policies. A very important one is - oh, that's right - confidentiality." he tapped his finger to his temple noncommittally. "It guarantees the protection of our data, security, products, employees, investors, private documentation, manufacturing and above all, our clients."

Before him, Nigel was practically shaking. Terror etched itself across his whole body as Vox continued in a calm, steady tone.

"And as someone who's worked here for thirteen years, surely you have read and agreed to the conditions of employment? Where it clearly states the consequences for breaching a company policy."

"It doesn't state a goddamn lobotomy you psychopath?!" Nigel shouted in desperation. "It doesn't say brain transplant! You sick fuck!"

"No, it doesn't. Of course, not. What do you think we do? Harvest organs?" Vox huffed a derisive laugh. "We value our bodily autonomy. And in the contracts it states Any disclosure of proprietary information classifies as a violation of the confidentiality agreement and warrants the current employer to implement necessary practices and/or exercises for the employee's psychological reformation and improvement." he monotonously cited the policy, word for word. "And you signed your consent."

"Yes! For fucking therapy sessions or whatever!" Nigel spat, incensed and disconcerted in equal measure. "Not this!"

"Well, therapy sessions are covered by the agreement, yes. But, in this case I think a full reform is required." when the sinner began to curse and writhe frantically, Vox added "You stole confidential information and threatened to sell it to the highest bidder to bankrupt us. How did you think that was going to end?"

"You deserve to be exposed! This entire company deserves to collapse! You're a farce! A fraud! Your products are a scam! This entire building is run by indentured servants! The public deserves to know the truth!"

Vox rolled his eyes. All of Nigel's statements were true. In that single USB he had managed to garner a stash of information so incriminating the Vees wouldn't have been able to see daylight for at least a hundred years.

Unfortunately, for him, his story would be added to that long list of crimes. And his foolish valiance would never be known.

"The only truth you and the public need to know," Vox continued, blasé and unaffected by Nigel's terror and pleas. "is that Voxtek's only mission is innovation, visualization and modernization for the health and safety of all." he poked Nigel's chest with a sharp, cyan claw. "And after you get fully integrated into our foundations, you will kill your partner, then you will help us grow and develop for the rest of your existence. You will never think about hacking our database again."

"Like hell I will!"

Vox lazily waved away his guards.

"Perhaps, you should have read the fine print better." he said coldly.

His expression remained apathetic as they dragged Nigel away who kicked and screamed and hurled heinous profanities the entire way. Yet, even the rancorous vitriol couldn't shroud the blazing fear possessing his instincts from the knowledge that in a few hours his brain will be removed and replaced with an engineered, biomechanical one manually controlled directly from Vox's office.

The procedure was slow, but auspicious. Nigel will lose his sense of self, his memories, his ability to feel emotions, his free will. Everything that made him who he is. His brain wouldn't be able to regenerate due to the solid mechanical gadget inserted in its place. And it wouldn't be obvious to the public - naturally they would protest it as "inhuman" or "monstrous", but Vox's employees would know. They will see it every day at work. They will fear it every day.

And from Vox's experience, fear was the most effective tool to keep people in line.

Sometimes, Vox deliberated on whether he should authorize the procedure on all of his workers. After all, why not? There would be no disobedience, no tardiness, no sense of exhaustion, no need to eat or sleep or complain. An empire run on robots under his sole command. It was a cathartic fantasy. 

"That's the fourth operation this week." a familiar voice said.

Vox plopped on his desk chair before giving Velvette a brimming smile. "Well, hello, my dear! To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"Drop it," she quipped curtly. "I have three girls in need of a chip, when can you book them?"

"I believe I can schedule them for an appointment after lunch." he said as he began to type away at the keyboard, pointedly ignoring the tetchy mood the other injected into the atmosphere.

A moment of silence stretched between them, only broken by Vox's experienced tapping.

"This place is going downhill." Velvette said eventually.

Vox's fingers halted before he managed to dissipate the temporary dread of truth.

"We've had a hitch. We're handling it rather well all things considered."

A deep, exasperated sigh resounded from behind him. Vox didn't need to see Velvette to know she had performed a stellar eye roll.

"You and I both know that's bullshit, Vee." her voice sounded from much closer this time.

Vox pretended to be busy in the hope that her words would sink into non-existence, but then Velvette penned him in by leaning against his desk.

He could feel her gaze bore into him.

"We're doing our best, and that has always produced excellent results." he answered blankly.

"Except, this isn't like always." she disputed. "Vox?"

He didn't look at her, and he was overtly aware she could see the drivel he occupied himself with to excuse his lack of engagement in the conversation.

"Vox?" she repeated, more firmly.

"Mhm?" he feigned ignorance.

He expected her to blow up in his face, or to at least steam on the spot as the frustration of not getting his attention rained on her. But, instead she wordlessly laid a gentle hand on his arm.

And that stilled Vox's movements more successfully than any admonishment or shouting could have.

Finally, he looked up at her.

All he saw in her expression was stoic, incisive concern.

"... we need to talk about it."

Vox felt some of the processors in his head rattle. "What more is there to talk about?"

"Him."

And just like that, Vox felt that taut thread holding his self-control ring in alarm. The shrill noise filled his ears, dousing the rest of his surroundings into a dense fog of insignificance that left only Velvette in his line of sight.

"We don't need to talk about Val, we need to make sure this place is running for when he gets back." he laid a comforting hand over her own, siphoning sympathy from the deepest, most isolated parts of his soul where it barely resided. "And that's exactly what I'm doing."

"How?" she brushed his hand off and crossed her arms, levelling a cynical look down at him. "By transforming your workers into Robocop?"

"Says the woman who asked me to chip three of her models a minute ago."

"A chip isn't the same as a brain removal Vox."

"It had to be done. That latest one I just sent? Had decades' worth of filth on us." he reclined in his chair to better assert his argument. "They're growing bold, Vel. All of them, not just Valentino's pawns. We never had this before. This... temerity. It's new. It's a problem. Our usual methods to get it under control aren't as effective as they used to be. Profits dropping isn't even our main priority anymore. So forgive me for taking drastic measures to protect our heads from rolling."

He exhaled, long and hard, contemplating their disastrous situation before looking at Velvette again.

"I know he rules his studios with a rod of iron, but..." he didn't expect his voice to sound so lost when he spoke. "Did... Valentino really have such a steel grip on this place? Was he the only thing keeping it in check? Was he really so terrifying that an entire empire of workers cowered in fear?"

The question had plagued him every day since Valentino was abducted. Vox had always liked to think of himself as a strict, principled man who kept a tight shift, but the rising insurrection of his workers wasn't just a toilsome task to mitigate, it was also a sign. A sign that overlords could be knocked down, a sign that no one was exempt from the chopping block, a sign that the population was growing tired of the increasing polarity between those who ruled and those who kept the ruling class afloat.

It was a sign of change.

And as much as Vox was an avid purveyor of advancement, he didn't take it too fondly when it threatened his success.

"No," Velvette blithely broke through his thoughts. "Don't get me wrong he was an absolute pissant nightmare and my entire studio hated to see him. But, I don't think he was some god. I think he was just the match that lit this whole thing ablaze."

"So it was inevitable." he drily commented. "All it takes is for them to get a glimpse of light once Val's shadow is removed."

"Maybe. But, that's not what I want to talk about."

"Then what?"

Vox dreaded the answer before it even came.

"You!" Velvette flopped her hands on her thighs exasperatedly. "I haven't seen heads nor tails of you in ages! When was the last time you slept-?"

"You expect me to take a vacation when we're fighting off an uprising?" he tried to dissimulate his inner annoyance with a strained smile, barely stopping his choler from slipping through his polished façade.

Velvette's eye twitched, and Vox inwardly cursed himself but he also partly cursed her. It was a carking idiosyncrasy of hers to always expect him to remain level-headed and agreeable, while she couldn't handle the same brash attitude she directed at others to be directed back at her.

"I'm not talking about a vacation." she mimicked. "I'm talking about how you're clearly starting to lose it! And you don't even want to talk about the reason for it!"

"I'm not-" his claws dug in his seat, and he strained to smooth out his ire with a thick gulp. "Losing it."

"Okay, what about the previous one you sent to get lobotomized? Hmm? You switched him because he spilled coffee on some papers, for fuck's sake."

"They were important papers." he teetered snidely. "And he hasn't spilled any coffee since."

"I'll tell you what's important in a minute. My fist up your-"

"What do you expect from me Vel?" Vox huffed sharply, frustration kept at bay for weeks searing him from the inside. "I've done... everything. Everything! And I still have no way of rescuing him!"

"I know you-"

"Do you think I'm not focused on him because I enjoy tormenting the morons who work for me?" he cut her off. "Do you think I've forgotten about him? Do you honestly think I don't spend every fucking minute of every fucking day thinking about how to get him back?!"

Her expression contorted into unease the more Vox snarled the worries that have been eating at him. But, he couldn't contain them. He was tired. He was overworked. He was pissed and irascible beyond measure. Vel had intended to extract the truth from him, and as always she was getting exactly what she wanted.

"There's nothing - nothing, I can do." the veracity of his words lodged them in his throat. A rueful, crushing sense of shame fell over him at finally revealing his worst failure. "He's in heaven! Where he doesn't belong. They could be doing god knows what to him right now as we're speaking and we can't do anything to help him!"

The office reverberated his admissions, echoing them back in his head where they spun repeatedly. Here he was. In control of the entire city. His cameras scattered throughout every corner, nook and cranny. His ears catching the faintest of whispers. His mind able to connect to any device and gadget and collect thousands of gigabytes worth of data he could use to destroy lives in a heartbeat. His screens were everywhere. He was everywhere. Nothing was beyond his purview. No one could escape him. No one.

All he had to do... was connect to his computers and activate his hypnosis to own every single unfortunate soul in hell.

It was that easy.

Pentagram City belonged to him.

There wasn't a single inch of it out of his reach.

He was unchallenged, and the bitter irony was scathing. He was one of the most dangerous, untouchable overlords in the history of hell, yet he was unable to save the person he lov...

The person he...

"It's been a month." he pointed out plaintively as he realized... he hadn't ever gone this long without Val. Ever. The blinding angelic light from the collar eliciting those awful, guttural screams from him played over in Vox's head like a movie. The sound of Val's pain haunted his nightmares as often as it possessed Vox's mind during the day. "It's been a fucking month and we haven't heard a single word!"

"Would you rather we did get a limb?" Velvette remarked unhelpfully.

"Don't twist my words, it's frustrating you to pieces too." he seethed, only now noticing how winded and heavy his breathing had gotten.

"Of course, it is. But, I'm not tearing apart my own damn department because I don't know what to do with myself!" she yelled, getting in his face.

His heartbeat thudded in his chest. "You're insinuating I'm not doing anything? Well, if I'm so useless, why don't you go get him back?"

"Oh, come on. Don't pull that victim shit on me." Velvette bit back, pointing a finger at his chest. "I have better things to do than worry about your fragile feelings! For one, I need my fucking business partner to get his head out of his ass and cool off."

"You underestimate the amount of restraint I'm already investing in every second."

"We're losing customers, Vee! Do you really think no one notices the robot behavior? People are getting freaked out! There's already rumors spreading online about us being a tyranny."

"Who do you think is stopping those rumors from spreading?"

"Well, clearly you're not doing it well." with every word out of her mouth Vox felt that precarious tilt of his fury wobbling. "Or there's so much that not even you can control them anymore."

She averted her gaze with an inflamed scoff, mumbling something under her breath about him being a massive control freak.

"You know," she pursed her lips, her chest rising and falling. "I didn't want to say anything because you're sensitive about Val-"

Electricity dangerously sizzled up and down Vox's body in transient sparks. The complaint laid bare on his tongue but before he could speak, Velvette beat him to it sternly.

"But, ever since he got snatched, my work... has been so fucking easier."

Vox gaped at her. His mouth hung open, the shock of her admission silencing him.

"I know I shouldn't say it." Velvette continued, albeit more calmly. "But, it's true. I don't have to wait for my models to regenerate just because he felt like shooting someone. I don't have to wait for my studio and designs to be chemically cleaned of the blood. I don't have to watch my girls scream and tremble at the mere sight of him. I don't have to slap the daylights out of them because they can't get their shit together afterward."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." Vox mumbled incredulously, judgment and disappointment blazing from his tone. "Did you conveniently forget that Val is responsible for a third of our income?"

Velvette merely sighed, tired. "Of course, I haven't. You think I don't hate feeling like this? I just didn't expect my other friend to take his place now that he's gone and become an even more unmanageable pissbaby."

The electricity frazzling around Vox's tense body grew into an erratic gale.

He bolted upright and instantly clamped his hands over his desk to prevent himself from snapping. The last time Velvette needled his constraint, he had obliterated the entire sky.

"Don't say anything else." he advised, more patient than he thought he would be. "Don't talk about him as if he's dead."

He was mad. He was so fucking mad he could incinerate the entire building. But, he wasn't just furious at Velvette, or himself, but at Valentino too.

He left Vox. It might not have been out of his own volition, but his actions and behavior have managed to leave Vox completely alone to fix the mess, pick himself up, keep the entire company standing while figuring out ways to save his arrogant ass from seraphim.

How was it possible for one man to be so consistently inconsiderate, Vox would never understand. He knows Valentino has no regard for other people, he never has for as long as Vox has known him. He was a charming bastard who enjoyed playing with people before eventually growing bored and tossing them in the fire like a spoiled child. Even the ones closest to him and the description of their relationship lost its conviction the more time passed with them separated.

"Or what?" Velvette confidently stepped into the gust of electric bolts zapping haphazardly. "You're gonna fry the whole office, hmm? Don't you think it's time you stopped doing that and instead tried to see reason?"

Vox closed his eyes. "I... am... seeing... reason..." he growled through gritted teeth.

"God, you're a fucking hypocrite. Or delusional. I don't know which is worse."

He was going to blow the entire office.

He was actually going to decimate the entire fucking tower.

"And you're being insufferable."

On a good day, he would never dare to insult her like that. But, he was losing control.

And if there was one thing he detested? It was losing control.

A gasp left Velvette. "I'm being insufferable?! Have you looked at a bloody mirror Vox?! I'm not the one glowing like a flashlight!"

"Maybe if you'd get off my fucking back I wouldn't be either!"

Fuck fuck fuck fuck! He was going to regret this later, but the scathing words spilled from his mouth like a broken dam.

"I will when you stop letting the fact of your boyfriend getting abducted and tortured affect this company!"

Bolts flew in numerous directions like bullets.

"Velvette-!"

The snarl in his expression disappeared when an unexpected, incoming call popped up on his face.

It rang, disrupting the icy tension diffusing between them.

"Ugh!" he sharply transferred it to one of his computers. "What?!"

Whatever heinous vulgarity he had intended to spew died on his tongue when Charlie Morningstar's face occupied the screen.

"Oh, gosh, sorry!" she lifted her hand placatingly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you! But, well, it's kind of important."

His heart skipped a beat, catching onto the severity of her call before his brain could. Whatever he and Velvette had been fighting about vanished in a hot, suffocating cloud of dust.

"What is it?" he practically breathed the question out as a wave of anxiety drenched his chest.

"Remember when my dad said we might get a message from heaven?" she winced. "It's here."

Vox froze.

A scalding layer of frost crept over his limbs, locking him in place.

The moment they had been waiting for for an entire month, the message they had been waiting for as their only way of finding Valentino... was finally here.

Velvette's breath hitched next to him. When he made no indication to speak, she elbowed past him.

"And the drone?!" she barked at the princess, urgency radiating from her tone. "Tell me, you managed to catch the drone!"

A shrill, high-pitched ringing sprung in Vox's ears and he felt the ground slip beneath him when Charlie answered.

"We got it." her eyes drooped, almost doleful. "And we also have the package it was carrying."

Chapter Text

By the time the latex over his mouth was sliced open, Valentino had long given up resisting.

He coughed and sputtered when his speech was liberated, not even trying to plead. His body lay exhausted and limp on the floor. The shaking in his limbs had dialed down to weak, sporadic spasms and the piercing intake of air against his sensitive throat barely registered.

The shame had flushed his system clean, dousing whatever frail pride might have still clung to him. He had nothing to fight with anymore, no defiance, no grit, no resolve, no dignity.

Nothing.

They had taken everything from him. All the air out of his lungs. All the strength out of his muscles. All the life out of his bones. All the soul out of his heart. 

His brain was so discombobulated by the incessant overflood of memories and bitter regrets haunting him like heavy rain of melancholy Val couldn't focus on what Adam was saying. It must be him, no one else possessed that chronic need to babble.

His voice wove muffled and dense in Val's ears, as though resounding from beneath an oppressive ocean of water. But, after he mentioned something about Valentino's "One month anniversary," Val's pulse quickened with adrenaline, sobering him up as he remembered Adam's promise.

"-ike we said we would. But, you wouldn't really be suffering in a fryer, would you? You'd just be kept dead and crispy the entire time. You'd hardly feel a thing."

Valentino heavily doubted that, but he didn't argue. Even if he physically could, he wouldn't.

"So, me being me, I had a great idea. We're not gonna light a fire under you like Lute suggested. We're gonna bring the fire to you." he proudly announced. "Then we're going to do to you what we should have done from the start, and we would have if you hadn't been such a cheap harlot."

Dread filled Valentino; the apprehension of fearing being burned alive rattled him as equally as the debilitating alarm of not knowing what they were going to do to him.

Faint rummaging sounded from Adam's direction like he was searching for something. After a moment, there was a click followed by a consistent whirring noise.

"You hear that?" Adam asked. "That's the sweet sound of a motherfucking blowtorch."

Valentino blanched. He viscerally felt the little blood left in him curdle as a wave of terror infused his entire being. 

A small wail of distressed panic sneaked from his throat that made Adam chuckle.

"You're still coherent, then," the hissing sound drew nearer and it spiked Val's instincts into action. "Good."

He thrashed, or tried to. He was so exhausted he couldn't do more than muster a few frail jerks, despite summoning all of his strength.

"Lute, hold him down."

Lute draped her body over his upper midsection, letting all her weight fall on him. The constricting motion managed to squeeze the air he had managed to retake and once again he found himself wheezing desperately.

"S-stop..." his croaky, wounded voice tapered out.

"Hell no, I've been waiting for this." Adam grit as he suddenly swung his leg over Valentino's hip and pinned him under his body.

Just like that, with both of them holding him down and the latex still snug around him, Valentino couldn't move an inch.

Not. A. Single. Damn. Inch.

Panic assaulted him like a bullet to his heart. He began to pant. The exertion of trying to shove them off was equally as futile as the wrecked pleas tumbling from him.

"Hold tight, don't let him stretch the latex." Adam warned.

The words barely had time to reach Valentino's mind because in a few agonizingly short seconds he felt a scorching, unbearable pain erupt in the middle of his stomach.

He screamed out. Hoarse, ragged screams that amplified in volume the more Adam pressed the blowtorch against his skin.

"Stop!" he found himself yelling. Desperation gripped him in an unyielding fist. "Stop! Please! Stop!"

Adam didn't stop.

He didn't stop for a single moment.

The blowtorch made its way in a horizontal line along his midsection. Wails and screams flowed from Val's throat like a descending thunderstorm. No matter how much he thrashed or wiggled or attempted to throw Adam and Lute off the blowtorch stayed focused on his skin.

"Please!" A few days ago he would have been mortified if he heard himself begging so pitifully like this. But, as his skin melted, as the latex seeped into the burned, desecrated flesh, as the astronomical pain shot through every weeping nerve in his body, Valentino couldn't find it in himself to care.

It didn't matter how much Valentino strained to break free, their grip was unforgiving. His stomach must be scalding lava, a pool of agony and horror impeded into his body. There was no other way to describe it.

Hysterical anguish overtook him like never before. All thoughts abandoned his mind. There was nothing but that excruciating pain muddling his entire world. He couldn't even detect the progression of the blowtorch anymore. Adam didn't let it up for a single second. It could still be roasting the flesh where it had started or it could have made its way to the opposite side entirely.

But, its location made itself perfectly clear when it began to melt the flesh of his wings.

His body lurched forward, instinctively trying to get away. But, there was no escape. His screaming rose so high it cracked, the pain stealing his voice.

The pain seized him. It was everywhere.... everywhere! His heart beat so rapidly it bordered the verge of shutting down.

"Fuck!" Adam yelled suddenly. "Dammit! I said hold him still! Don't let the latex tear!"

White hot agony flared across his entire back as the torch persisted, boiling the hot, viscous plastic into the delicate, overtly-sensitive tissue of his wings. The devastating noises that blared from him were nothing short of primal. He couldn't form words anymore, couldn't beg, couldn't run, couldn't fight.

This pain will kill him. And if it didn't he would still never be free of it; for the rest of his life the memory of how helpless he was against his captors will remain like a leech, sucking away his confidence until it bled him dry.

So engulfed in the unfettered agony, he almost didn't hear when the blowtorch shut off.

"Okay," Adam's bleary voice broke through the screeching in Valentino's head where it dissolved into incoherent, groggy fragments. "That - ust... ha...-ve hurt."

Then... a cooling sensation breezed over the new wounds and Valentino jerked to the present with a confused gasp.

The pain that nearly made him pass out suddenly dulled into a lingering throb. Like Adam had thrown a bucket of icy cold water straight onto that pit of lava.

"There we go," he said, his hand hovering over Valentino's abdomen before healing his side then finally his back. "Isn't that better?"

Valentino couldn't answer due to the surge of unprecedented relief drenching his body and causing it to slump. Lax and exhausted, he could do nothing but heave heavily on the ground.

Though, vaguely, from somewhere faraway, his rational senses detected a new stiffness across his middle. If he tried to shimmy, his skin tensed up, indicating that the latex had successfully been glued into the bruised flesh. A dark, gory band of firm plastic separating him in two halves.

He accepted that reality with a quiet sob induced with sheer, unadulterated horror.

"Alright, let's flip him now," Adam scooted above him and grabbed Val's knees. "Careful not to yank the vacuum."

As Adam lifted his knees in a herculean grip, Lute leveraged his upper body weight by shifting his shoulders. Valentino could hardly stop them even if he tried. But maybe he should have, because as soon as they flipped him on his other side and mounted him again, he heard the tell-tale click of the blowtorch and his whole body bristled with fresh terror.

Despite being starved, dehydrated, beaten, tortured, suffocated and god knows what else, his body still managed to produce a guttural, distorted scream when the blowtorch began to sear his other side.

He begged. He begged and begged and begged with a rusty, dissonant voice that couldn't function anymore. It was a pale imitation of his once smooth, alluring melody.

The pain was worse than anything he had felt before and he found it astounding how every day that sentence kept repeating itself as the new agony somehow surpassed the previous punishments.

It just... kept... getting... worse.

By the time the blowtorch finished connecting that dreaded circle branded across his waist, Valentino was sobbing, body wracked with stuttering spasms and voice hoarse and breaking.

...he didn't recognize himself.

He didn't recognize the pathetic demon cowering in on himself in fear, so shattered he had no choice but to let the torture happen. The fire overcoming his senses burned almost as fervid as the flames dancing in the eyes of a once powerful, respected overlord. An overlord who had brought hell to its knees and reigned supreme for decades.

The fire in that overlord's eyes... had been doused. A barren, charred void was all that's left, full of misery, suffering and terror.

When had the transformation occurred? Had it been a gradual decline? Had Adam and Lute drugged him with something to potentiate the effects of the torture? Or perhaps they were lying about how long he had been imprisoned here because Valentino refused to believe that stunning, menacing overlord could be reduced to such a whimpering, unrecognizable wreck in only a month.

He didn't have the strength to ponder it or to bear the crippling shame of those invasive thoughts. So, he relegated them to the back of his mind for later, deluding himself that that overlord was still in him. He was still there, hiding, keeping himself locked away due to self-preservation. He will resurface again... when the time comes...

Valentino didn't notice Adam had already healed his other side until the pain ebbed away.

Now that the most blinding factor of his agony had flickered into a smoking, dense throb, Valentino could better take notice of the other aggravations hurting him. The stiffness in his muscles from being cramped in one strict position for so long, that in hell would have caused him to whine and take a day off work to visit a chiropractor, now hardly felt like "real" pain. Blood flooded back into neglected places numbed by his immobilization like a released flurry of sharp, pinching needles.

He didn't have time to acclimate himself to the grievous sensations because a violent ripping stole all of his focus. He flinched as the plastic constricting him below his waist was abruptly torn open.

Cold air whipped at his bare legs as they sagged lamely to the floor. He had grown so habituated to the confinement that freedom felt foreign, too chilly, too loose, too light. In all that time trapped in it, Valentino hadn't truly felt how matted and sticky with sweat and blood his fur had become. But, now that his legs were free it was impossible to ignore.

Adam grimaced above him with an audible "Ew."

He felt disgusting. He felt abused and filthy and neglected and awful in the worst way. He had thought relief would swathe him at being released from the suit - the fantasy had swirled in his mind incessantly during the time he spent in it, but now that it was gone Valentino felt nothing but untold shame and revulsion.

The urge to curl his legs toward his stomach shifted them into motion. Valentino didn't recognize that urge, or... at least, he hasn't in a very long time. Since he dropped to hell, he has never had a problem with being naked; his body was a rare, gorgeous thing meant for the spotlight, to be displayed and lusted over. But, now that stilted urge to hide, to cover up, to do anything in the hope of getting away was back.

He didn't have enough strength to move his legs much, so instead they ended up weakly twitching against the ground.

He was tied up, pinned down and bare. He felt agonizingly vulnerable.

The vulnerability didn't dissipate when Adam waved a hand over his legs, making Valentino's fuzz stand up. The rancid smell disappeared and the oily sensation mucking his skin miraculously vanished.

Valentino's mind couldn't help but drift to the time Adam had ordered him to bathe that now seemed years ago. He could have magically cleaned Valentino up himself, he had just wanted Valentino to suffer, to touch the water that he was prohibited from drinking, to reach over his back and hiss in pain while cleaning his own wounds.

Everything Adam and Lute did was to cause him pain... No matter how minute, frivolous or gratuitous it was. If it hurt him, then it was worth it.

His thinking might be hampered, but by the dregs of his common sense he understood why they had fried his midsection: to release his legs while preventing the vacuum from popping. With that realization, the taut pull of his skin upward became more obvious, almost unendurably so.

He shuddered when a rough hand roused him from his musings by harshly grabbing his knees again to roll him onto his back, the warmth of Adam's touch sharply diffusing into the numb coldness of Val's limbs.

Valentino's legs were so atrophied they immediately flopped sideways, unable to stay up. They hadn't even begun the actual torture and Valentino was already done. Adam didn't say anything; he merely picked up Val's right ankle and slid it to the side.

"Hey, pass me the bar." he snapped his fingers, sounding more placid.

Valentino's brows creased in confusion, breaths still coming in shaky and disrupted.

Faint rummaging ruffled above him. Then Adam fidgeted with something metal and cold at the back of Val's ankle before a sleek leather strap fastened around it.

It held firm, and Adam wrestled his leg upright as he grabbed Val's other ankle. Unbridled dread seeped into Val's heart when Adam hauled his legs uncomfortably wide apart and repeated the motion by slapping the second cuff on, locking both of his legs into the spreader bar.

For a moment, the screams in Valentino's head quenched into a bone-chilling, deathly silence as the situation started to dawn on him.

No...

No...

Adam's hand slowly wandered the mauled canvas of his left thigh; the ghostly, dangerous touch tingling the soft fuzz as he made his way up to his hip. It settled there and all Valentino could do was hold his breath against the onslaught of fear disintegrating his chest into boiling ash.

His grip made Val more aware of how much his hip bone protruded. He knew he had been starved to the point of death for weeks, but he hadn't realized how sickly and emaciated it had made him.

A nerve-wracking, tense silence ensued. After what felt like an eternity of being spread bare for Adam's eyes, Adam lifted his hand off Val's hip.

The momentary relief dissipated when he leaned over and prodded at Val's lips with two fingers.

"Open up," he commanded sternly. "Unless you want to take them in dry."

A breathy gasp left Valentino.

He had been right.

They were going to do it...

They were finally going to do what he knew they would, what he had expected since the very beginning when Adam had stepped into his line of sight, when he had attested to that familiar fire in Lute's eyes as she wielded the whip. Every unsolicited touch, every violent strike, every hateful glare all lead to this.

He had clocked them from the start and he had vowed to escape before they did this to him.

He had failed to keep that promise.

His lips trembled the more Adam pressed for entrance. His breath skittered over them as his voice begged him to say something. But, nothing came to his mind. With Lute pressing down on his shoulders and Adam towering over him, there wasn't anything Val could say to dissuade him.

His mouth parted open.

Adam roughly slid two fingers in and Val gurgled with a strangled hitch. They pressed down on his tongue, as though Adam purposely wanted to draw out gagging noises. Valentino tried to adjust by slipping his tongue between his fingers to subtly push them away.

Noticing the obstruction, Adam retracted the digits. Valentino gasped in air, but before he could so much as steal a breath, Adam instantly shoved his fingers back in.

This time, Valentino choked.

"If you even think about biting," Adam ground out menacingly. "I will rip all your teeth out with a fucking spoon." 

Adam didn't give him time or opportunity to ease them in carefully and it took every ounce of concentration for Val's jaw not to instinctively snap down on them. He knew if he did the torture would get significantly worse.

His gag reflex was something he had long forgotten, but as Adam thrust his fingers deep down his throat, scraping it raw, Valentino couldn't stop himself from gagging. Water hasn't graced him in over a month; his body couldn't even produce spit anymore, leaving his throat painfully desiccated. Adam knew that. He had no intention of actually collecting Val's saliva, he just wanted to humiliate and toy with him.

Unfortunately, Adam's callous movements caused the insides of Valentino's lips to graze against his teeth. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but the stinging pain was a mild inconvenience compared to the fact that he couldn't get any air in now that Adam was blocking his only airway.

Adam moved in harsh, intrusive strokes that Valentino failed to follow. He tried slithering his tongue around Adam's fingers - not to push away, but to genuinely slick them as much as he could.

This game of abasement between a tormentor and his recipient lasted until the fire licking at Val's lungs turned so severe he had no choice but to jerk his head away.

Adam's fingers dislodged out of him and he coughed in air. A weak trail of drool dribbled onto his swollen lips, but all he could focus on was the small reprieve.

"Wow. Really?" Adam derisively mused above him. "This is the best you could do? You really are a slut for pain, aren't you?"

Adam leaned back and Valentino felt his heart skip a beat when Adam angled his legs further apart for better access.

The instinct to clamp them shut was overwhelming, but the metal bar kept them secured and unable to do more than fitfully convulse. He couldn't move them at all, couldn't close them, couldn't nudge Adam back. The ache of being spread open settled in his bones, however the helplessness it evoked fluttered far more painfully in his gut.

"Wait... w-wait..." his voice was so shaky the words could barely be heard.

"You want me to wait? It's not much, but are you sure you want to let it dry up?" he asked, referring to the spit on his fingers.

Valentino's voice caught in his throat, torn between imploring him to stop and preventing himself from openly acknowledging what's happening.

But, in the end, he said nothing. He said nothing because he didn't trust his voice not to betray his crushing fear.

Adam's clean hand settled flat over his thigh, sending a shudder of dread down Val's spine as budding goosebumps rose on his skin. His fingers tapped absentmindedly over the fuzz slower this time, exploring him, teasing him, feeling him. Adam lightly brushed it upward, knowing he had all the time in the world to do whatever the hell he wanted to him. He grabbed Val's hip again in what could be considered a gentle squeeze before he tightened it, pressing him against the floor.

He pursed his lips into a thin line and willed his body to calm down. He could do this. He's been through it before and he's survived. He could do it again. In retrospect, this should be nothing to a demon like him. He was the overlord of lust; it should be impossible for him to be hurt by sex. Just because he's been raped before doesn't mean he will break this time. Everyone has a bit of trauma. Either you let it drown you or you learn to swim. Either you learn to shape it into a weapon and make something of your life or you die a victim. That's life. It's just how it worked. If Angel Dust could overcome it, if Val's other whores could bear it for so long, then Val can too. He's not weaker than the rest of them. He's not weak!

All those emboldening thoughts vanished into leaden vapor when Adam prodded at his entrance.

Val involuntarily went stiff despite all of his instincts prompting him to run, to squirm, to bolt. His breath caught in his throat when Adam abruptly slipped a finger inside. The spit wasn't enough to smoothly glide it in and Valentino winced at the burn when Adam began to move his finger in and out.

"Nothing to say?" Adam asked in a disdainful, contemptuous tone. "I seem to remember you begging me to fill you up."

He curled his finger, rubbing away the tension in Val's inner walls, stretching him, and Val forgot to answer, all of his focus stolen by the intrusion.

"I asked you a question."

Suddenly, Adam added the second finger in, too fast and too soon, and Valentino hissed, reflexively trying to arch away to escape it, but Adam's other hand held him firm.

"I..." he stammered, the panic freezing him.

Fuck what was wrong with him?

He hasn't been acting like himself for days, but that was hardly his fault?! He should be able to handle a case of bad fingering like it was nothing. The stretch burned and stung, but the pain wasn't nearly as unbearable as what he had gone through in the past few weeks and it still dissipated his weakening resolve.

Velvette has always referred to his love language as physical touch which couldn't be truer. He needed contact, he was well aware of that; in hell he hadn't gone a single day without a good fuck or even casual, innocent intimacy. After an entire month of cold, hard chains and brutal, hateful fists, this was the first time he is being touched... and it made his whole body jittery, confused and agonizingly oversensitive. It contrasted the gruesome whipping, beatings and suffocation, and it was still somehow the most terrifying out of all of them.

When he failed to procure a response, Adam scissored his fingers, sending flaring spikes of discomfort that elicited a pained grunt from Val.

"Come on, I thought you'd like this." he murmured cruelly as Valentino's legs twitched in their restraints. Adam moved slowly, but purposefully, twisting and widening and bending and curving his fingers in a distracting, sparking pattern that stole Val's breath. "I'm finally giving you what you asked for and here you are acting like an ungrateful bitch."

A particularly harsh thrust had Val gasping for air. Adam began to ram his fingers in, hard and merciless, the previous sluggish, firm motions morphing into quick, brutal ones.

It hurt... a lot... He had no technique, no patience, no finesse, and no intention of actually relaxing the ring of muscles. Valentino wondered if all the girls Adam had been with weathered the incompetence or if he reserved its callousness specially for Valentino.

"Fine. If you don't wanna talk then don't." Adam suddenly pulled his fingers out and Valentino exhaled a sigh of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed when Adam said "Hand me the big one."

Above him, Lute perused the various, inscrutable pile of objects and Valentino hated the rising wave of frustration tingling him at not knowing what was happening. The latex obscured his sight and the visual deprivation only amplified all the other sensations encumbering him.

A few seconds passed before he felt Adam slightly lean back and then an insistent, blunt object teased his rim.

A rush of fresh, unmitigated panic gripped him again. He wasn't prepared properly, not nearly well enough. If Adam inserted the unlubricated toy now he will rip him open.

"N-you can't..." he rasped, his shallow wounded edge jarred into a rushed, frantic one. "Hold on-You can't... I'll tear!"

Adam nudged the toy forward, almost imperceptibly, as he took in the words. When he spoke, Val didn't need to see his face to know a vicious, sadistic smile widened on it.

"I know."

He drove it in in one swift, ruthless motion.

Valentino screamed. A guttural, tormented scream as the toy was forced deep inside him. It was curved and unacceptably thick, an enormous size Val would have difficulty taking even with time and proper preparation. His walls instinctively clenched around it, too stiff and too tight to properly accommodate it.

It felt like he had been split in half.

It was too much... It was too fucking much! Caught in unbridled terror, he attempted to kick out, to writhe his body away, to wiggle free and somehow dislodge it, but he could do nothing to stop Adam. His efforts caused the latex to squeak uselessly as the dildo bullied its way in, tearing him apart.

The pain was so excruciating Valentino could have sworn he momentarily passed out. His wretched, tragic gasps and groans infused the space; noises born out of sheer, inexorable agony.

He just wanted it to stop!

And he hadn't even yet taken its full length yet judging by the fact it was still entering him, reaching private places few people had touched, places that would now never forget the violation.

He couldn't even plead, the pain wrung out every last desperate hope he clutched to. He would take Lute's whipping, he would take Adam's beating, he would even undergo another round suffocation in the suit for god's sake if only to stop this!

After what felt like an eternity of him wailing out the pain, Adam stilled and with crushing horror Valentino realized he had fully inserted it down to the base.

"Took the whole thing in like a pro." Adam commented, inhumanly blasé and calm.

He was insane. He was actually insane and Valentino was at his complete mercy. Even with Val's most disobedient whores he hadn't punished them by ripping them open like this, they would have been incapacitated for days.

His heart pounded against his ribcage and his pulse drummed in his ears at an alarming rate. Disgust deflated his stomach, needling his urge to throw up. He felt impossibly full. He didn't even notice he had dropped semi-unconscious until Adam grabbed his jaw and shook him back to reality.

"-ey! Don't you dare clock out on me." 

After a firm, solid jostle, Adam let go of his face only for Val's head to immediately loll limp to the side. Adam caught his jaw again and out of nowhere brutally backhanded him.

Val's head shot in the other direction with a disturbing crack. Still, he didn't move. 

Adam slapped him again, equally as hard.

Valentino didn't even twitch, didn't make a sound. His face remained slack, his mouth hung open, all of his energy invested in moderating his irregular, wounded breathing.

He heard Adam sigh in frustration and dread pooled into his gut which was already overflowing with it.

"You want to be a smartass and ignore me? Alright. Maybe this will wake you up."

The toy was yanked out of him and Valentino grit his teeth, groaning as it grazed his ruined insides. He did however give Adam the reaction he wanted by howling in agony when Adam remorselessly thrust the toy back in.

"Ghn..." his shattered voice managed to ground out. "-agh... p-please...!"

"Oh, look who's talking now?" he began to tug it out, slower and more deliberate this time. "But, since you begged for it so nicely, I can oblige. You really are just like any other simple slut. All it takes is a few good thrusts to get you all pliant."

To emphasize his point, he began a steady, temperate rhythm.

Every angled shift, every deeper dive, every unexpected push dragged out pained whimpers from Valentino. Blood soaked the floor beneath him, its quantity chilling. He didn't even know he still had that much blood left as more and more kept leaking out with every pull. 

"You have got to be kidding me." Adam cut through the debilitating storm thundering in Val's head. "Do you always squeak like a chew toy when you're getting railed? That's fucking adorable."

...Valentino hadn't even realized squeaks of misery had been ringing out the back of his throat with every thrust. The pain burrowed so far into his conscience, sinking its claws like a feral beast, the rest of the world drifted away. He couldn't think properly, but he had a suspicious, portent feeling the memory will accompany him every day from now on, eroding his self-esteem and bringing him back to this moment.

Oh, god, what was wrong with him? He didn't want to believe those were his thoughts. He should be stronger than this! He shouldn't let it break him so easily. But, he's been breaking for such a long time now the cracks deteriorated the unstable foundation.

Every single swipe roughly rubbed his prostate, igniting him on fire and spurring his body into erratic, helpless squirms. An inner, festering flame heating his lower gut, soaking into the gelid frost creeping up his broken limbs, that still did nothing to excite his arousal. His body didn't even have enough blood to send between his legs where his cock lay flaccid and untouched with only the occasional twitch.

Whatever pleasure the abuse forcibly injected into him came in transient wisps, a stark contrast to the burning agony running through his entire nervous system. And Adam was merciless. He gave him no time to adjust as he rammed the object in and out, his tempo increasing, his intervals of reprieve growing more unpredictable.

"Oh, Lute you should feel him." Adam breathed. "He's shaking like crazy."

Valentino managed to ignore it for the most part - the act facilitated by the mind-numbing pain shattering him, but it was undeniable that his entire form trembled and quivered like a newborn, terrified fawn, perhaps worse.

It took longer than expected for Lute to respond, and when she did her usual characteristic wrath was absent. "I can feel him."

There was a discomfited, almost distant stiffness in her airy tone, but Valentino didn't have the energy to decipher it.

He didn't care. He just didn't fucking care anymore. It didn't matter what he did or what he thought, these angels had the power to do whatever the fuck they wanted to him and it made no difference how much he fought or schemed or pleaded. He didn't know what was happening, everything was so disorienting, messy and haphazard he couldn't tell left from right.

And so it began. Ceaseless flashes of agony stretching the minutes into infinity. A litany of castigating filth spilled from Adam as he tortured him without restraint or mercy that Valentino strained to tune out.

For the first time in weeks, he received the darkness covering his eyes with an eager welcome. Maybe, if he stared at it intently enough it would swallow him whole and take him away from here.

He yelped in surprise when a rough slap violently landed on his rear.

"Yeah, cry for me, babe. Don't space out now, we're not finished with you yet. Let me hear those pretty noises." Adam's grating voice ridiculed.

The angle was inconvenient, what with Valentino's legs spread the way they were, but it didn't stop Adam from striking him again, his hand landing directly on the unhealed lashes on his skin. The sharp, biting sound pierced the room, muddling with Valentino's cries.

Adam swatted him again, no doubt leaving deep red markings on his skin.

And again... and again... and again...

The strikes varied in intensity and location; each one making him flinch. Adam switched hands with no predictable order or intent, alternating between each cheek, never letting go of the toy for a moment. Val had bitten his tongue numerous times, fresh blood ameliorating the dryness in his mouth, but the cuts didn't even hold a candle compared to the damage in his lower body.

Hot, stinging pain bloomed in the back of Val's thighs and ass and he keened when Adam paused after what felt like a lifetime.

"You can't tell me you don't want this." he rumbled, pressing a thumb against the abused flesh and kneading rough circles in a messy pattern. "Not when you're moaning and yelling like some desperate whore. I suppose you're hardly worth even that now."

The pad of his thumb prickled against the heat radiating off Val's skin like a local fever.

"You should be thanking me. A needy bitch like you can only go so long without sex." Alejandro said, his hands pressing Val down, his voice overtaking Val's mind. "I bet this isn't even enough for you. You need the real thing to be satisfied."

Valentino shivered in his hold, trapped under Alejandro's body, engulfed in the weight of his power over him. 

"Do you need your master's cock, slut?" he asked and Valentino frowned. Alejandro wasn't so crude. Val must have done something really bad to anger him so much. "Come on, beg for it. You begged for it so sweetly before, I know you can do it again."

Valentino racked his brain for the elusive memories, confused. When had he begged Alejandro? It did sound like something he would do, yet he couldn't recall. And why did Alejandro call himself Val's master? He usually demanded to be called papito or señor, but never master?

Was this some kind of game? Did Alejandro expect him to play along? That should be easy, Val was very good at playing along. But, his battered throat captured his words. His chest ached with lacing sears. And it hurt down there too. So... much...

Why was Alejandro so rough with him? Why was his smile so cruel? He rocked into Val as though he hated him. Why was Alejandro punishing him? Why was Alejandro even here? He had died! He had died so long ago and Valentino had seen his dead body himself? Why was Alejandro back?! He shouldn't be here! He should be dead!

...

...Alejandro.

Alejandro.

Master?

Alejandro..?

He was dead...

Alejand-

...

...

...Adam!

Valentino jolted to reality with a horror-struck, gutted gasp.

Oh, god...

His mind was so lost he couldn't differentiate between past and present, memories overlapping, tears cascading, pleas repeating, his body once again used, once again violated, once again under someone else's control.

He began to hyperventilate. Heavy, brittle pants of a cornered pray overtook him as the ground threatened to swallow him whole. Why did this have to happen?! Why did Alejandro have to haunt him? Here? Now?

"Whoaa!" someone rapidly tapped at his face. "Easy there! You're gonna knock yourself out, calm down!"

Valentino couldn't calm down.

Hands were on him, grabbing him, pinning him down, squeezing, bruising, taking. He couldn't shove them off. He was theirs to do with as they pleased. He wasn't a person. He was a toy, an expensive, beautiful toy for others to enjoy and ogle.

He hadn't escaped that house... had he?

Perhaps, he had only been fooling himself this entire time, opting to ignore the truth, burying it under a mountainous pile of dead bodies, painting his hands red with the blood of his victims, gripping his guns like an anchor as though it could protect him from their faces.

Faces laughing. Faces grimacing and mocking and snarling. Faces sunken in ecstasy. Faces of different genders and races and appearances. Unimportant faces with no features, yet Val could see them. He saw them every night. He was seeing them now, floating in the darkness, creeping closer to him. And one face stood above all the others.

Stars covered Val's vision, sparkling and bright as they embellished Alejandro's frame and it only caused the panic seizing his body to surge.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't fucking breathe!

Someone slapped him, hard, sending Val's head flying to the side.

"Snap out of it!"

Val could lie to himself, he could pretend he had survived him, he could vaunt his riches and power... but, he will never escape Alejandro. He will forever remain a shadow following Val wherever he went.

His heart pounded so fast it felt like it would shatter any moment. The ground dipped. The coldness melted away. But, Alejandro's face didn't. Val could still see it.

He could still see it and he screamed from the frustration, sorrow and anguish.

The outburst shocked him out of the fear and he looked around in the darkness for a distraction. Anything. Anyone to replace Alejandro's immutable, phantom presence. Desperate, he let his mind latch onto the first face he associated with safety.

A face of effervescent moonlight. A blue, enchanting light shone in Val's vision, gentle, calm red eyes curved by a sassy smirk. Lethal cyan claws caressing Val's face, warm, comforting arms ensconcing him, plush, electric lips against Val's own.

...Vox.

Vox.

Vox.

Vox.

His moonlight dancing over the waves above Valentino like a silky, magical waltz of devotion. Blue which pulled Valentino from the tumultuous water and carried him to shore.

"Fucking finally," Adam groused, his voice clearer in Val's ears now. "Took your damn time. You with us? Jesus christ."

Remembering where he was, Valentino couldn't stifle the pitiful sob that clawed its way out.

"Aww," Adam smoothed a hand over his temple, sympathy feigned behind a veneer of malice. "There we go, shh. It was just a small panic attack, that's all."

The syrupy sweetness in his tone only egged Valentino's sobs further. They rose in volume, eyes leaking dry tears, throat hiccupping as he started to cry.

"Tell you what," Adam crooned like a balm against the misery flooding Val. "I could make this easier. If you beg me to stop."

Val's chest stuttered and glitched. Adam's demands fluctuated like the weather. One minute he was ordering Val to beg him for more and the next to beg him to stop.

"Your appetite for sex is revolting. Lust is a sin. And my job is to rid you of that. So, beg me. Beg me to stop fucking you and convince me that you can be redeemed."

Perhaps, if he remained silent he could still pretend he was back at home, safe and protected, and that this wasn't Adam. If Val concentrated hard enough he could convince himself it was Vox between his legs; maybe he had somehow tripped and accidentally impaled Valentino with his dick. He wouldn't put it past Vox to do something like that. Or maybe they were role-playing and Val explicitly asked him to hurt him.

Yes. Yes, that worked. This was nothing more than a really intense CNC scene. He was with Vox, not Adam or Alejandro, and if Val asked him to stop then he would.

...which is why he didn't. Since Adam had started fucking him, Valentino hadn't implored him to stop, hadn't said anything at all. Because he knew if he begged for this to end then he will be ignored.

Which would mean Valentino truly couldn't stop it.

Which would mean this isn't Vox.

And Val couldn't bear that. He couldn't bear to lose the last lifeline holding him together which was still nowhere in sight and even though Val tried not to let it devastate him, he had hoped Vox would remain loyal if only out of a sense of nostalgia. They had spent decades filled with trust, companionship and each other's warmth together. Their mutual... care was a toxic, fickle thing, but it was real.

At least, for Valentino it was. 

He had thought it was real for Vox too... and he couldn't prevent the disappointment from swamping him. Had he truly meant nothing to Vox? Was he so expendable they could replace him so easily?

He could daydream and delude himself to salve the heart-rending truth, but he couldn't escape it, he couldn't deny the fact that...

...that Vox wasn't here, was he?

"Stop..." he surrendered. "Please... s-stop..."

No wonder Vox hadn't come to save him. Why would he? Who would risk their life trying to save such a pathetic, useless lump? The shame plunged him so deep in despair he was sure he will never be able to eradicate it from his lungs.

"How many times did you strap your whores down like this? Did you stop when they begged?" Adam asked, detaching Val from his rotting doubts. 

Val didn't answer, afraid of saying the wrong thing and worsening his predicament.

A scoff resounded from above him and the next moment the toy was pulled out of him, leaving only the tip inside, before Adam ruthlessly slammed the entire thing back in.

Another scream tore out of Val. He wondered how many of those he still had the ability to make as his shallow, labored breathing juddered.

"When your master asks you a question, you answer." the hand at Val's hip tightened so hard he felt blood ooze in tired droplets where Adam's fingers dug in. "If I have to remind you one more time I'm gonna jab this whole thing so far up your ass you'll be closer to giving it a blowjob. So, once again. Did you stop when they begged you?"

The threat shuddered through Val's flickering grit, dispelling it, evaporating it into dust.

"No..."

He could have lied, but that would have only exacerbated the torture. His pride wasn't worth it. His pride wasn't even there anymore.

"No. You didn't, did you?" Adam iterated, sardonic accusation blazing from his tone. "So, why should I stop now? Hmm? Go on, give me one good reason, I'd love to hear it."

Another bout of silence stretched.

"You..." Val hushed. "y-you promised..."

Another brutal thrust racked him, earning a poignant groan, the force of Adam's arm increasing with every word.

"You don't get to bargain with me. If I want to fuck you six ways to sunday, I'll do it. If I tell you to beg, you beg!" Adam suddenly splayed his other hand flat over his stomach. Then... he pressed down, dragging out a garbled, overstimulated mewl from Val. "You're a fucking slave. An evil piece of shit who doesn't deserve mercy. A rapist getting raped. Tasting your own medicine? - it doesn't get more fitting than that. What a perfect way to make you atone for your sins and I'll do it as many times as it takes to get you reformed."

The words wormed their way into Val's frantic heart, their virulence seeping through like salt into an open wound.

Finally, he understood why they had waited to do this to him. They had wanted to from the start... they just hadn't wanted him to want it.

Val knew what he was: a monster, a killer, a human trafficker, a rapist. But, by god he couldn't play this dangerous, sadistic game of justified punition with Adam. He neither harbored any sincere penitence nor did he have the strength to do so even if he tried.

So, instead he surrendered to the snake of Adam's acrimony and let it poison his body while he imagined himself floating far away, with someone else, someone smart, dependable and gentle, someone who would sweep the door off its hinges and carry Valentino in his arms to safety.

Any moment now...

Adam didn't let up for a single second. His grip on both the toy and Val's hip remained unyielding despite the stutter of exhaustion beginning to whittle in his breath. Val didn't want to think about how long he had been fucking him, every minute that passed without Vox tearing this place apart to save him rung like a nail in a coffin.

Maybe, Val had been too harsh by deducing Vox didn't love him. He might be trying to save him but simply couldn't. Val's heavenly predicament wasn't exactly... an easy knot to untangle. A single TV sinner against an army of angels.

How romantic.

On one hand, Valentino dreamt of Vox coming to rescue him, but on the other he was grateful that Vox wasn't here because if Vox saw him like this, tied up, helpless, whimpering, begging, bleeding and fucked out of his mind, then he would never look at Valentino the same way again. It was the power, the prestige, the confidence, the invincibility that attracted Vox towards him; Val's unpredictable, chaotic nature and the illusion of him as an untouchable, great figure, something rare and precious Vox could attain but aware that he'll never be able to truly tame.

If that illusion broke... would Vox's affection break as well? - and Valentino's guts churned at the knowledge that it might not, but Vox would never respect him again. His usual, aggravating patronization would always be tainted with how weak and defenseless he thought Valentino was.

That's why a part of him didn't want Vox to know what was happening, what Valentino had gone through even on earth, despite his soul longing to be wrapped up in Vox's arms, to be caressed by them, to be bracketed between soft, squishy pillows and Vox's warm chest and be told it will be alright, that he's safe now and that Vox will take care of everything - just like he always tells him...

"I wonder what your boyfriend would think if he saw you like this, fucked bloody by another man." Adam's grating voice yanked him back to reality, as though he had read Val's thoughts. "Is he the jealous type? A possessive, macho guy? Or is he a sad boy who would cry at the sight of you?"

Shut up shut up shut up shut up!

"Doesn't matter, though. Not like he's here. I can't imagine how embarrassing that must be for you. Screaming and screaming his name only to be ghosted. It's hardly a surprise, I mean... who in their right mind would care about you?"

Somewhere faraway, his body continued to be brutalized but Valentino dialed it down. What was a body but a clump of cells and liquids mushed together, right? He didn't need it, especially not when his mind busied itself with rosy, peaceful memories of Vox comforting him, snug under a pile of blankets, whispering soft, balmy melodies in his ear, all too aware of the lingering truth in Adam's words that veiled the consoling fantasy with despair.

But, Val still entertained it. Vox's voice in his head called him baby, he called him darling, he called him sweetheart and Tino and love and dearest. Nothing like the "whore, slut, freak, bitch, cunt, slave" he had been subjected to for so long. He couldn't remember the last time he had even heard his own name...

No. No, he won't think about that - he reprimanded himself rigidly. He'll think about Vox and cling to the calming image of his face, the crepuscular, magnetizing blue glow of his screen, the sharp glint of his dangerous smile, the crimson, rich hue of his eyes.

He was beautiful and Valentino allowed himself to drift along that hazy cloud fogging up his senses.

"Ah, shit." someone's voice spoke. Not Adam's. Definitely not his. Val wasn't with him anymore. He was with Vox now. "My arm's getting sore. Lute? Wanna swap?"

"No, thank you." Lute answered, tone still unusually emotionless and subdued.

"Gee, thanks." Adam might complain about his discomfort, but the intensity of his motions didn't lessen.

How long had Adam been doing this to him? How long had he been ramming that toy in? How many times? How many of Val's screams had he forcibly extracted?

Val didn't know. It didn't matter. He was so used, abused and gaping his hole hardly presented any resistance against the repeated assault. Adam wasn't doing this to derive pleasure, he wasn't doing this to satisfy a craving or get anyone off. There was no ultimate goal, no expected climax, no finishing point. It was just endless torture of the most invasive, scarring kind.

He didn't understand how Adam was still getting his rocks off. Val hardly put up a fight anymore; he lay limp and unresponsive, a bland, underwhelming spectacle. The thrill of victory could linger in the air only for so long against a defeated opponent. Adam might as well have been fucking a deceased corpse.

"You know what? This isn't fun anymore." Adam suddenly griped, sounding from miles away. "Look at him. He's tapped out."

For once, Val agreed with him. They had thoroughly depleted him, sucked out every ounce of strength from his bones.

Adam shook his jaw, hurling Val's mind into a dizzy headache.

"Listen up," Adam spoke, clearly disappointed in Val's dormancy. "I'm getting really bored now. So I'll give you two options. I can call on some of my strongest girls to replace me and fuck you till the sun comes up. That's option A. Or, I can stop if you come."

It took Valentino a moment to process the words, his brain addled and malfunctioning. When he understood, his brows creased in abject confusion, dumbfounded.

He can't be serious...

"Your choice. You're lucky I'm even giving you one."

How Adam expected him to orgasm under such extreme pain, Valentino couldn't fathom. But, even if by some miracle he managed it there wasn't a guarantee Adam will honor his word. He had lied repeatedly to Val, a shameless, blaring pattern of dishonesty that illuminated the deal in strobe red lighting of alarm. 

"I..." he tried, wincing at the frailness of his tremulous, scratchy voice. "I... c... ca..."

"What was that?" Adam exclaimed, shuffling closer to hear him.

Val gulped, exhausted and beaten. "I... can't..."

Adam huffed. "Sure you can!" he settled back and gripped the toy again. "You're already halfway there."

...what?

Adam must have noticed Val's hesitation because the next moment his hand wrapped around Val's cock which... was indeed erect.

Val yelped at the unexpected touch, the sudden stimulation overwhelming his sensitive body even further like pouring fuel onto a wildfire. He had been neglected for an entire month and the warmth from Adam's hand stirred the already coiled tension in his gut.

He had gotten hard and he hadn't even noticed... In all his life that has never happened, this exhaustion drowned him so deep he had lost touch over his own body.

It was just the friction, a biological, natural response from the incessant, incendiary rubbing against his bruised prostate that provoked this reaction. It's not as if he liked the violation. He knew that... and yet it still made him feel disgusting, as though his body had betrayed him.

"What's it gonna be?" Option A? Or option B?"

Valentino couldn't think properly from the minute flexing of Adam's hand - not enough to spur him on, but just enough to muck up his ability for common sense.

"...B."

He was so tired... he was so damn tired he didn't care what happened anymore as long as it meant the pain would stop. If it ends up killing the overlord sheltering inside him then so be it.

He couldn't help but lament the bitter irony. He had screamed and fought and begged to be released from death's grip while in the suit and now he would eagerly choose that over what he was currently going through.

Adam's hand tightened and Val shuddered, legs straining to kick out, to flail, to writhe. A thumb slid over the head of his cock, smearing the beaded precum.

"Alright," Adam teased, prodding the tip of his finger the barest way through the slit, driving Val mad with conflicted frustration. "I'll help you. But, if you want my help-" He gave one smooth, agonizingly slow stroke down the length. "Then you're gonna have to earn it."

Val's breaths came in quicker, his body rousing from its lifeless slump. He couldn't keep up with the mind games anymore, thoroughly wrung out he let his instincts navigate him as he mumbled: "How..?"

"How what?"

Valentino mentally kicked himself before he amended "How... c-can I earn it, master?"

Adam hummed, satisfied. "What are you?"

He knew what Adam wanted.

"...a slave."

Something precious in him died in that moment. He didn't know what it was, but its absence was tangible, an untold loss he couldn't identify, like a footprint in the sand getting swept away by apathetic waves.

Adam began an irresistible glide up and down Val's dick, dissipating his thoughts like specks of dust adrift a wild wind. 

"Say it again." he ordered.

"...I'm a slave." Valentino's breathing hitched and if he wasn't so wrecked he would have sobbed on the spot.

The friction Adam gave him sent a restless rush of excitement through Val's system, strokes rising in speed and intensity, plunging his pleasure deeper.

"Again."

The toy breaching Valentino suddenly began to move again, stealing breathless gasps and grunts from him. He felt his control slipping as Adam stimulated his most receptive, vulnerable parts, belting a raw thrill that had Val arching up into his hand.

"I'm a slave."

He really was a whore. Getting off on his assailant's perfunctory touches for a scrap of mercy. His body squirmed as the flashes of desire overtook his movements, hot and heavy roils of it washing over him, ripping his restraint away.

And it felt wrong... It felt so wrong, passion contaminated with something acidic and hateful; sizzling poison bringing him back to life. 

"Again."

The toy hit that sweet spot inside him with every shove as Adam's hand kept up the riveting ministrations on his member, pleasuring him in asynchronized tandem. 

In a matter of minutes, the fomented heat pooling in his lower region sparked in a crescendo of exhilaration. Rising and rising with every stroke and glide and insertion, overbearing, unendurable, fiery.

"I'm a slave..."

He throbbed in Adam's hold, Adam's movements smearing the leaking fluid dripping onto Val's stomach all over his cock, slicking the drag that only heightened the involuntary, perverse ecstasy.

It wasn't enough. He needed more. His body refused to release him of the yearning ache, yet it wouldn't tip him over that maddening edge.

He could expedite the intoxicating misery if he thought of someone else inflicting it. But he wouldn't. He refused to lug Vox into this. He will rather suffer it all over again than soil Vox's image.

Val's moans and whimpers streamed uncontrollably, infusing the room in an addictive melody of pain and pleasure.

"Keep saying it."

Valentino obeyed.

He kept demeaning himself, the sentence slowly, surreptitiously snaking into the darkest corners of his discombobulated mind.

Just a little more... Just a little more and it would be over.

It was unbearable. A knot so tightly twisted despite the onslaught of sensations turning his limbs into jelly; breathing picking up, body shaking with boiling need.

Adam sped up his movements, alternating the rhythm, keeping Val on his toes, building up that dense, demanding urge. After a particularly well-aimed thrust, Val cried out.

"I'm a sl-ngh... I'm..." unable to continue the parroting phrase he trailed off, words fighting to be heard over his ravaged, delighted gasps. "I'm... augh! M-master... I can't- I'm close! I-"

"You're not allowed to come."

Valentino's heart leapt in his throat at Adam's sordid switch up. Silence amidst a rancorous storm fell over his ears.

Then... he felt something so horrid all fragile traces of bliss stilled.

He felt the collar heating up.

Panic overtook him, whisking the amalgamation of agony and enjoyment into an incomprehensible whirlwind as terror doused his volatile form.

"No!" he prayed, defeated. "No... no no no stop! Please... please! Don't!"

Adam laughed, cruel and victorious.

His movements sped up, pulling Val closer to his climax.

A despaired, wounded sob mingled with Val's heavy breaths. He should have known this would happen. He felt like a fool. He should have known Adam always hid a venomous snake up his sleeve, waiting for the opportune moment to bite.

There was no winning with him.

No matter what Val did Adam always thwarted his efforts to allay the suffering. Every choice was an illusion, a wicked joke to emblazon the punishment.

The burn of the collar dialed up to a searing degree. His flesh began to melt, the smell wafting through the air and expanding Val's revulsion as Adam brought him closer and closer.

"Stop!" 

He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it! Fuck! His throat was on fire. His body refused to obey him. The pain was everywhere. It was unmanageable. He couldn't go through this again! He couldn't go through it again!

"Please!"

But, as always, the choice wasn't his to make.

Powerless to stop it, he felt his treacherous body tense up, walls clenching around the toy, eyes rolling to the back of his head, jaw slacking, legs shaking, back arching, as Adam finally forced the orgasm from him.

His world blacked out into staticky white, but he didn't actually process any of it because the moment he came the collar went off, setting his whole body ablaze and throwing him in a sea of pain so unbearable it surpassed all the tortures already inflicted on him.

With an afflicted, broken scream, Valentino sunk into that dreadful, familiar darkness.

●

Down in hell, in the middle of the Hazbin Hotel's lobby, Vox sat rooted in place.

When they had received word of the drone's arrival, Vox had been haunted by a myriad of possibilities of what it could be carrying. All of them turned out to be as horrid as the truth. What he had just seen... pulled his whole body taut and stilled his heart with a chilling dread that could wither entire landscapes.

The TV screen had long gone blank, but the lasting imprint of the scene still remained behind Vox's eyes. The only thing he could think about was how he had just skimmed past footage of his best friend being brutally raped for three hours straight.

He could try, but he will never be able to forget Valentino's screams. Screams that couldn't - shouldn't even be associated with him. Raw, genuine pleas and desperation that Vox didn't want to believe came from Val.

And that was only the first tape... neatly wrapped in a red bow that singled it from the other dozen tapes thrown in the package. Slowly, Vox's gaze trailed down towards them, a pile of hours upon days upon weeks of Valentino's torture coiled in simple rolls of plastic.

Vox's blood turned cold in his veins.

Someone was speaking to him, or perhaps they were yelling. It didn't matter because the next moment the ballistic fire in his core that he had barely managed to stifle until this point exploded in a violent, thunderous storm of lightning bolts that decimated the entire foyer.

Chapter Text

People often say love burns like a star.

They aren't wrong.

If such an evocative illustration is allotted to a harmless, gentle love then what could possibly describe the ruination of a vengeful, grieving one?

Surely, that must be what Vox was currently feeling besides fury so profound it shook the entirety of Pentagram City. Its aftermath sputtered and steamed from the hotel's eviscerated lobby; dust danced in the air like fairies, debris fell as hard as a descending avalanche, the furniture now destroyed still sizzled with residual electricity and fire flickered dangerously around the wreckage like a garden of vibrant, incandescent bushes.

The danger did nothing to dissipate the shrill fog clouding Vox's senses. The room had ceased to exist, the only thing he could see were the vicious lashes on Val's skin, the grueling black and purple bruises covering every single inch of his legs, the claustrophobic sight of him trapped in tight latex as his body bent to Adam's will. Val's desperate struggling, his raw screams, his genuine, helpless pleas, the way he had been forced to call himself a slave.

Valentino.

Valentino. The name alone stood beyond dubiety. Valentino... an overlord who could instill fear and topple entire neighborhoods without lifting a finger, who could get half of hell to kneel in fear before him with a single word. He was untouchable.

And yet... Vox had barely recognized him when the footage had begun.

It was wrong. It was so wrong to see him in such a defeated state Vox had doubted if it had even been Val. It felt like watching something forbidden, something he shouldn't or the universe would fold in on itself. Vox didn't know how to process it; so, his body had overtaken control for him by blasting the debilitating concoction of horror, guilt, disbelief and unbridled rage, decimating the surroundings.

He felt weak.

He felt incompetent and blindsided for underestimating the atrocities heaven was capable of committing. He had known full well that Valentino was being tortured this entire time and yet he excused his powerlessness on the assurance that Val could handle it, that he was the strongest person Vox knew and that he would run circles around those angels as he effortlessly did with everyone else.

For the first time in weeks he truly understood how bad the situation was. What he had just seen on that tape... Words couldn't do the disgust it stirred in Vox justice. He had spent decades in hell, where the scum of the earth mingled in a depraved system of chaos and violence, yet the sole contents of that tape surpassed the everyday sickening horrors with astounding efficiency.

To be aware that someone unworthy had touched something that was precious to Vox - something that belonged to him - diffused his entire body with uncontrollable rage. To watch them hurt Valentino - his Valentino -  and abuse him and rape him, while Vox could do nothing but watch from a couch nailed itself as one of the most painful things he has ever had to endure.

He had been skeptical of his feelings for Val for years, outwardly denied them and shoved them into the steel locker of his cold heart despite Velvette's regular teasing. But, now he couldn't deny them. The locker had exploded against his will, releasing the love it harbored in the form of a deadly, scorching lightning storm.

He could hear that storm now as he stood amidst the desecration; voices in the fire mocking Vox in transient whispers of Val's name. It was the only thing his brain could focus on; shrill, ear-splitting static waving through the mantra.

At least, it was until a violent force suddenly rammed into his back and sent him flying across the room.

His body crashed into the wall and he barely managed to catch himself before slamming onto the floor. Groaning in pain, he tried to lift himself on his hands and knees, the motion eliciting a gruesome headache as his mind reeled from the shock.

He didn't have time to gather his wits because the next moment an impossibly white glow encompassed him. A hand harshly wrapped around his neck and Vox instinctively started to claw at it. It was no use as Lucifer fanned his wings wide and used the grip to lift Vox off his feet.

He instantly started to choke. Sparks sizzled through his battered body, his instincts set ablaze as he strained to tear the fingers from his throat. But, Lucifer's hold was as steel as his expression. He stared Vox down with wrath sketched on his face and Vox's vision momentarily went black when the king roughly drove him back against the wall.

He wailed in agony, his back and neck screaming from the brutal force, but he didn't stop fighting back. He clawed and punched at Lucifer's arm to dislodge it. Panic seized him, his legs frantically kicked out as his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen.

Lucifer slammed him against the wall again and Vox's eyes rolled back, his efforts dwindling. A wheeze wrung out of him and for a moment he thought Lucifer might actually kill him, but as his body progressively grew lax, he distantly felt his feet touch the ground.

The grip around his neck loosened and he gasped in air, the world refocusing.

"Stay down." Lucifer snarled in a sonorous tone, the command grave.

It only stirred the vindictive rage simmering in Vox. His eyes narrowed, his hatred directed at the angel responsible for all the suffering Valentino has been put through.

It was Lucifer's fault. All of this was his fault.

Without thinking, he hurled a vicious punch straight at Lucifer's face. The King's eyes briefly widened before he parried at the last second. He grabbed Vox's wrist and twisted it.

Vox grunted, unable to wedge his arm free of Lucifer's adamantium hold as Lucifer's other hand tightened on his neck.

"You asshole!" Lucifer sneered. "This is the second time you've blown up at my daughter's hotel! We just finished decorating!"

"It was... ugly... anyway." Vox rasped, boiling fury worming past Lucifer's grip.

Lucifer gasped, his features contorting comically into indignation. Flames danced in his eyes, feathers ruffling, power blazing from his form like an eclipse.

Vox didn't stand a chance against him. No amount of electric charges or fighting back could cause him any physical harm. It pained Vox to admit it, but there wasn't a sliver of possibility of him winning this fight.

Not fairly, at least.

Gathering his focus, he closed his eyes and channeled the residual power he had left before he opened them again and activated his hypnosis.

"Release me."

He didn't know if it would work, he might have just signed his own death warrant. But, after a few tense, unnerving seconds the barest twinges in Lucifer's expression grew visible. His mouth slightly dropped open, the fire in his eyes petered out and his brows creased in confusion, expression slackening.

Vox didn't have time to mull over the impossibility that it had actually worked because he could feel Lucifer's mind pushing back. It seemed while susceptible, Lucifer was still immune to Vox's powers. 

Vox widened his left eye and amped up the hypnosis, pouring all the strength he had into it. Lucifer's grip slightly eased up. He must have noticed the unusual shift, because his hand flexed against Vox's neck. His expression turned from conflicted to concerned, aware that something wasn't right.

When Lucifer falteringly tried to tear his gaze away, Vox leaned forward. "Eyes on me." his voice frazzled. Mechanical. Inhuman.

He didn't care about the repercussions of failure; he was so enraged, overwhelmed and heartbroken with grief he didn't care about anything. If he could just hook Lucifer for the barest of minutes he might be able to thwart him to at least let Vox live. 

Lucifer's arm relaxed, alleviating the crushing force he had held onto Vox with. But, he didn't release him yet; Vox wasn't powerful enough to completely snake his way into Lucifer's mind and he knew he only had a few seconds to do what he needed to do. But, as he opened his mouth to chime another command he made the mistake of averting his gaze to glance behind Lucifer.

Vox froze, his entire body tensing up as his eyes landed on Alastor who calmly stood amidst the burning wreckage. His smile sharp and eldritch, his red eyes gleaming more fervid than the fire dancing in their reflection. A heavy, dense silence fell over them, the tension palpable.

Eight years. It has been eight years since they last saw each other; hate, grief, yearning, deplore, history and nostalgia radiated from the shared eye contact.

That one short moment of distraction was all it took for Vox to lose control over his hypnosis.

Lucifer sharply snapped back to the present and hesitantly stepped away, shaking his head to fling the aftereffects of brain temperament away. "Bleabblaeugh! Eugh!" he pawed at his face, massaging it.

Vox's hand drifted to his neck and gently kneaded the bruised flesh as he gulped, steadying his breathing.

Having composed himself, Lucifer's gaze found Vox again and when it did his eyes darkened. "...I should kill you for that."

Vox clenched his teeth, a chill running down his spine, but otherwise didn't say anything. How would he even defend himself after trying to hypnotize the king of hell? They stared each other down, bodies tense, ready to pounce.

Shuffling came from the direction of the ruined staircase and a moment later the sound of footsteps pattered. Vox turned to see Velvette halt in front of them with a dismayed expression and the box of tapes safely in her arms. The rest of the crew followed after her, all of them transfixed in a state of abject devastation.

His gaze locked with Velvette's, an invoiced message of fear transferring between them as his life flashed before his eyes. He determinedly kept looking at her, glad that if he died her face would be the last thing he sees.

It felt like an eternity passed. Eventually, Lucifer sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "You're lucky I made a promise to help make this place better."

The tension in Vox's muscles abated and he visibly felt his shoulders deflate. Turning to look at Lucifer, he saw the king gazing solemnly at Charlie and, noticing the threat of murder had been lifted, Vox released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

No one said anything, the only sound infusing the taut stillness originating from the creaking flames infesting the whole room. Lucifer raked his gaze over the damage, forlorn and narked in equal measure.

Vox watched as he wordlessly raised a hand and summoned a sparkling, white glow in his palm out of which golden coils of magic slithered out. They wove through the air in a mystifying, captivating dance as they doused the flames and amended the destruction. Lucifer covered every corner of the room with them and in less than a minute the entire foyer was fixed, returned to its original state as though the explosion had never happened.

Vox gawked at the display. He knew Lucifer held great power, but it was one thing to hear of it and quite another to witness it in person. He wouldn't say it, but even this effortless, trivial feat of angelic magic was breathtaking.

The ground shuddered as Lucifer tapped his cane twice against it. Clearing his throat, he straightened his back and directed his attention back at Vox again.

"Let's just get this over with." he grumbled and snapped his fingers. A portal opened nearby from which Lucifer called forth the drone.

It floated on a gilded mist before laying flat on the newly-replenished carpet. A gleaming white net covered its form, holding it captive.

"I trust you at least brought the equipment."

Vox sobered up. Finally, he could do what he was good at. His features crinkled in distaste at his tousled, torn clothing that he couldn't properly smooth out, but garnering his priorities in order, he took off his coat, depositing it on the couch, and gruffly waddled over to the drone.

Velvette was next to him in a heartbeat, suitcase tucked under her arm. Thank god, she had managed to salvage the tools and box of tapes before Vox had lost control. From the corner of his eye, he studied her form which luckily remained unscathed as did everyone else having been previously expelled from the room the moment Vox and Velvette understood what was happening on the tape.

He didn't know whether they had seen any of the footage before Charlie had called and the possibility that they might have haunted Vox. No one was supposed to see Val in that state. No one.

Velvette plopped the case open next to the drone and squinted at its contents. Vox knelt down next to her and rolled up his sleeves "You can yell at me when we get back."

She huffed, but otherwise kept her tone low. "Nah. What's the point?"

Conceding, Vox clucked his tongue. 

"Besides," she whispered, scooting back to give him space. "I would have done the same thing after what we just saw."

Vox raised his head when Lucifer approached the drone and said "I will lower the bindings. Get it done quickly before heaven starts suspecting something's wrong. We've already wasted enough time."

Fresh anger simmered in Vox at the preternatural hubris and arrogance radiating from Lucifer's words, but he clenched his teeth, stifling the many retorts and scathing insults that laid bare on the tip of his tongue.

"Can you crack it open? Since you want it done faster so badly." Velvette blessedly answered for him.

Lucifer simply nodded with an imperceptible roll of his eyes. Flicking his wrist, he let the net drop and the casing of the drone slowly began to disassemble. The metallic pieces glided smoothly to the side, exposing the interior.

Wasting no time, Vox began to work. His hands expertly moved as he wielded the tools with experienced precision, taking apart and reorganizing and reshaping the drone to his needs. In hindsight, the only thing he truly needed from the drone was its engine and exterior that camouflaged the invasion - a trojan horse by the truest definition. Velvette assisted him, handing out the items and removing excess junk Vox had dislodged.

He pointedly kept his gaze averted from the onlooking attention raining down, the pressure aggravating, but every now and again he would glance at everyone's faces to try to discern their level of discomfort. He hoped they hadn't seen the footage, but there was one person Vox knew that couldn't resist peeking into the TV.

Vox had known Angel would sneak away to watch his ex-boss be tortured; the curiosity and potential vindication were too powerful a temptation to deny. But, the lack of catharsis in his expression was something Vox hadn't expected. Angel appeared just as disturbed as Vox felt; his arms were tightly wrapped around himself and his gaze looked lost, glazed over with consternation. And when their eyes locked Angel couldn't uphold the contact for more than a few seconds. There was a new, furtive stiffness with which he looked at Vox now that wasn't there before.

"How much did you see?" he asked, staring directly at him.

Angel blinked vaguely before his brain caught up, understanding what Vox meant. "Enough."

At least, he didn't lie which honestly surprised Vox. Valentino's whores usually stuttered and tripped over their words in Vox's presence; it appeared Angel has grown habituated to a life without Val in it.

"Did it make you happy?" Vox asked more quietly this time, careful to keep his sentences ambivalent.

"What?"

"Did what you saw... make you... happy?" Vox repeated tersely, his voice dark. "Did you wish it was you doing that to him? Did you imagine getting your payback for all the times he's put you in that same position?"

A long moment of silence stretched, the seconds ticking away. 

"No." Angel quipped sharply. "It didn't."

Vox lifted his eyes to study Angel, wondering what went on in his head. He couldn't quite fathom the whirlwind of conflicted emotions undoubtedly spinning Angel's thoughts, but he didn't let it distract him from his work nor did he let the fact of Alastor’s cryptic absence bother him either.

The demon had disappeared the moment Lucifer regained control. Like the coward he was, Alastor always vanished without a trace, leaving Vox to suffer the consequences alone.

Angel didn't quail or backpedal under his scrutinous gaze and eventually Vox lowered it, closing his eyes and trying to tamp down his spiraling resentment. He continued his work quietly and after a few minutes the interior of the drone was accommodated to suit their needs. He plucked the camera from the suitcase and began to insert it.

"Will the signal be strong enough?" Charlie gingerly asked.

"The signal is amplified a hundred times that of the usual design which can easily span to the edges of the city. I had my best engineers working on it for weeks." Vox elaborated, breaking the icy tension.

"Hopefully, it's enough." Lucifer snidely commented.

Vox briefly glanced at him and deadpanned "It's enough."

He reached into the bag again and retrieved a bottle of water and a lidded, plastic casing of food. He slotted them beside the camera, careful not to wedge them in too hard.

Velvette gave him a pointed look and he returned it with equal understanding, both of them aware who the provisions were for and why they were necessary. They might not even make it to Val, but Vox had to try, just in case.

When he took out the next item, Velvette gasped. "Oi! That's my desk buddy!"

Vox lifted an amused eyebrow as he held Velvette's pet robot in his hand, the latest Vector edition. It was a small, cute assistant that didn't really do much but had still gained popularity in recent years. Of course, he could have confiscated any of the millions of robots in his company, but the stickers and markers Velvette had decorated hers with might help Val to recognize who had sent it.

Vox smiled as he internally gave the command to activate it and Velvette jumped when two extra hands popped out of the robot's sides. One of them held a built-in miniature torch that Vox made sure burned hotter than a flamethrower, while at the end of the other a small circular saw had been installed, its edge lethally sharp. The robot's digital neon blue eyes which were his only expression morphed into angry ones and it began to beep as the torch blew and the drill began to whirr.

"Did you do that?" she queried, more intrigued than accusatory.

"Mhm, it also has additional batteries to sustain it for months." he confirmed proudly. "Thought Val might need some help and it was the only thing small enough to fit. You still think I'm useless?"

Velvette leveled a flat look at him, revealing her unimpressed disapproval of his comment. She didn't protest when Vox put the robot among the other items in the drone.

"It already had an automated opening to release the goods. We'll just have to find somewhere secluded to drop them off so no one will find them." he brushed off his hands and shut the tool case before standing up. He nodded to Lucifer. "It's done. You can close it."

The enmity in the king's face had abated now that they were finally gaining some traction. Vox commiserated; he too wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.

Just as easily as Lucifer took apart the drone he reconstructed it. In the flash of a few mesmerizing seconds, the parts and components slotted neatly together like a puzzle. The drone looked as though it had never been tampered with.

"So, how does this work?" Angel asked, though he sounded marginally less vivacious than he usually did and it wasn't because of the explosion. "Do we just shoot it up or..?"

His question was answered for him when the drone steadily lifted from the ground. They all watched expectantly as it levitated out of one of the open windows and into the sky.

"Alright, let's see if this works." Vox muttered mostly to Velvette and himself as he took a seat at the couch. He ignored how his body stiffened as it resumed the position he had been locked in while watching the footage of Valentino.

A few ephemeral sparks traversed between his antennas as he connected to the drone's camera. His screen buffered black and white for a moment before it cleared, presenting the view of the drone. The buildings and squalid streets below grew further and further away as it ascended up towards the celestial form of heaven.

"Alright," someone - Vaggie, it sounded like - spoke. "That's pretty cool."

Vox couldn't see them, his vision overcome by the footage of the drone, but he knew they all circled him, intently following its progress. It made him feel both flatteringly essential and overly self-aware.

"...how long do you think it'll be until it gets there?" Charlie hushed.

"Awhile." Vox answered simply. "But, from my assessments its picking up speed. So, it might arrive faster than we think."

"Ah," Charlie continued. "And what happens when it does arrive?"

"It undergoes an inspection, as all of them do." Lucifer answered this time. "Since the delivery wasn't standard procedure, they'll hopefully process the drone only on surface level to avoid suspicion."

"And if they decide to look inside?" Husk interrupted.

"...then this would all have been for nothing and we'll be back to square one." Lucifer groaned, and Vox decided to ignore the words - all too aware that they wouldn't be the ones to pay for their transgressions. For Val's sake, Vox crossed his fingers and prayed for it to work.

It felt odd to watch himself approaching the place his best friend was being held a prisoner, yet still being so far away. It stung with a bittersweet ache his body didn't know how to process. But, he was getting closer, that's all that mattered. He was actually doing something and he soothed himself with that assurance as heaven drew nearer and nearer.

As the drone traveled, the feed began to glitch in and out of focus as the signal stretched thinner, but Vox's concentration held it firm. When it began to frazzle too incoherently, he heard Lucifer mumble something as a cool sensation draped over Vox's antennas before the signal righted itself. With both of their powers amplifying it, the footage effortlessly remained lucid.

"Oh, there's the gate!" Charlie jumped. "We're here!"

The drone flowed towards heaven's doors which opened upon its arrival, revealing the inside of heaven.

It... was beautiful. A stark, luminous city of lights that appeared born out of a summer's dream. It was jaw-droppingly idyllic, a place Vox would never reach, but he didn't care. It wasn't even his ultimate goal. He was looking for something far more priceless.

Winners and angels of all forms and shapes mingled, chatting, walking and laughing along as the drone blithely passed them by. The entire atmosphere reeked of peace and it felt wrong to see it. Sinners like them shouldn't have ever even gotten a glimpse of what it looked like and yet they have. Everyone quietened down as they absorbed the forbidden sight. The knowledge that they were witnessing something no one in hell has before and likely never will again fell over them like a heavy, poignant blanket.

It was the feeling of mourning.

Vox let it wash over him, his heart stuttering in his chest. True to Lucifer's claim, the drone did indeed enter what looked like a government establishment where it underwent a series of dispassionate checkups. Eventually, it settled into a storage room lined with a long column of other drones.

"Do you know where the seraphim resides?" Vox asked towards where he assumed Lucifer stood.

"I... think I can figure it out. The place has changed a lot from the last time I saw it."

Great.

Pressing non-existent lips, Vox activated the manual control and the first thing he did was open up the base and let the food, water and robot spill out. Hopefully, the storage room was an adequate place to hide them since it appeared relatively abandoned. The commands to the robot remained under his sole regulation and with barely a thought, the drone lifted off the ground again.

"The door is locked." someone stupidly pointed out.

Vox refrained from sighing as he ordered the drone to charge at full speed, consequently blasting the door open.

"That works too."

Vox directed the drone out into the dimly lit corridor which - as it further traveled - Vox deduced this might have been one of the few rooms in heaven that didn't blaze with white, blinding lights. A pang of sympathy shuddered through him at the thought of Val's overtly-sensitive eyes being subjected to this additional discomfort without reprieve.

"Maybe we should find an open window," the king said. "Sera won't be happy if we keep knocking down doors."

Vox didn't particularly care about Sera's feelings, but he conceded since he knew they needed her in an amenable mood. "Which way?"

"Uhhhh," he soughed before taking a seat next to Vox to better assess the footage. "I think - I think - we can find an open hallway to the right."

Vox headed right.

"Another right."

Vox swerved right again.

Lucifer continued directing him and as he did Vox got the general idea that he didn't know the architecture better than any of them which almost made Vox tempted to completely ignore him and start barreling through walls and windows. But, he refrained. He was simply grateful luck aided them by leaving the labyrinth of rooms and hallways relatively unpopulated.

Finally, they encountered an open window and the drone took off into the rosy, crepuscular sky.

"Okay, now up. Straight to the top."

The journey to the topmost floor was brief but nerve-wracking and Vox's chest fluttered with success when the image of the seraphim sitting at her desk popped on the footage.

"Don't break the window." Lucifer calmly warned.

Vox nudged the drone forward and reluctantly tapped the window with its front, making a metallic clink.

The seraphim lifted her head and the expression that rose on her face was nothing short of bewildered. After a few seconds of processing what she was seeing, Vox pushed the drone forward again, a clear indicator that it wants in.

She blinked, but regained composure enough to open the window with a snap of her fingers. The drone sauntered in and, as innocuously as possible, settled on her desk.

"Speak." Vox whispered.

"Huh?" Lucifer eloquently responded.

"There's a microphone built into the camera. Speak."

"Why me?"

"Speak, dammit." The serration in Vox's hushed voice deepened as Sera stared at the dormant drone. "Now."

"...Hi!"

Sera jumped, sending the papers on her desk flying to the ground.

"Sorry." Lucifer winced.

Sera's brows creased, her gaze narrowing. With a strained, cautionary tone she asked "...Lucifer?"

"Yeeep," he sheepishly groaned. "Not quite the reunion we imagined."

"I... didn't imagine we'd ever get one." Thankfully, she didn't sound too mad about them infiltrating heaven.

"Right, um," Lucifer fiddled with his fingers and Vox flicked his knee, an invoiced get it together as clear as day. "Sooo... We haven't seen each other in ages. How's it going, girl?"

"Dad... no..." Charlie whined, embarrassed.

Sera's lips curled, unimpressed. "It's going fine."

Her words were clipped and terse and Vox visibly saw her patience waning.

"That's great!" Lucifer opened his mouth to continue blabbering more of his perturbation, but Sera interrupted him.

"What is the meaning of this, Lucifer?"

Finally, someone keen to get down to business. If Vox didn't loathe her beyond belief for what she had done to Valentino, he might have respected her.

"It's - uh, well, funny story-"

"It's a renegotiation." Vox cut him off, fed up with the pointless dallying.

Sera raised an eyebrow at the realization that Lucifer wasn't alone. "Why does your voice sound familiar?" her tone dropped, low and apprehensive.

Vox inwardly smiled, her recognition like a heady tonic to his reputation - something he's been feeling a distinct lack of lately. "Because you've heard it before. You might remember me shouting when you abducted a close confidant of mine exactly one month ago."

Vox enunciated with austere, embittered accusation, his words falling over the atmosphere like a suffocating fog. No one said anything, each of them buzzing with anxiety and dread as to how Sera will react to the bluntness.

Eventually, and much to Vox's dismay, Sera scowled, the excess of emotion stark on her usually stoic face. "Now... here's what's going to happen. I don't know if it has crossed either of your minds, but what you have essentially done is commit an open invasion on heaven. That is an act of war. So, to avoid the irreparable consequences that will follow, I'm going to pretend this... foolish interaction never happened and you will never attempt something like this again. Understood?"

"About that-" Lucifer wheedled at the same time Vox deadpanned a stiff "No."

Sera pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. "I don't think you two understand the severity of what you've done."

"No, we understand," Lucifer got in Vox's face and Vox smacked at his chest to preserve his personal space to no avail. "And we wouldn't have done it without a good reason. A few minutes is all we're asking for."

"No." Sera snapped.

"Please."

"Lucifer..."

"For me." Lucifer's voice took a serious tone. "You kind of owe me, you know. Just... ten minutes," he deliberated on his next words, prolonging the interval of silence for potentiated effect. "If our friendship ever meant anything to you."

Well, evidently the king could be just as sly as the rest of hell's debauchees - a comparison his sky-high pride probably wouldn't appreciate.

Vox could see the veins in Sera's forehead dilating. After a few shrill seconds, she covered her face with a hand to hide her remorseful expression and muffle what vaguely sounded like a swear under her breath.

"Oh my god, did she curse?" Vaggie boggled. "Sera cursed?"

Sera raised her head again, chagrined. "How many of you are there?"

"It's me, Vaggie."

"And me!" Velvette piped up for good measure.

"And me! Charlie!" she shuffled closer and Vox felt short of breath as they all cramped him. "Hi again!"

Words didn't exist to adequately describe the vexed irritation that took over Sera's face. "This is not happening." she said morbidly.

"Sera..." Lucifer suddenly spoke, the heavy edge to his tone returned, casting a shadow over the conversation. "We know why you took him."

She steepled her fingers. "You don't. It was necessary."

"No, it wasn't." Velvette griped, she too getting in Vox's face. "If you need a puppet to run your torture show then take someone else. Leave him out of it."

Sera's features contorted into unease and her lips pursed. "I'm afraid the decision is final. And even if I wanted to reverse it, I wouldn't. None of you understand what's at stake here."

"Then enlighten us." Vox demanded.

"I see no reason to do so. Your friend is more important than you realize. I'm afraid whatever renegotiation you intended to achieve will be quite futile. Now, if that's all then it's time to end this-" her hand lifted, stark white rays of light erupting from her palm she aimed them directly at the drone.

"No, wait!" Vox exclaimed, caught in his panic. "I think this has all been taken out of proportion." he did his best to maintain a calm, professional façade and suppress his burgeoning anger. "You'll find we can be very forgiving people and we could overlook this... egregious offence if you return Valentino to us. We will find you a suitable substitute, there will be no need for the exterminations and we will do our best to keep down a rebellion from rising against you. I think it's a reasonable offer."

The light in Sera's hand flickered. "Is that what you think this is about?"

Something in her tone shifted their perception of the situation, dousing them in doubt.

"Isn't it?" Lucifer timidly tried like coaxing a volatile rabbit. "You've always hated the threat this realm posed."

The incendiary gleam in Sera's eyes turned into a solemn, almost regretful one. "You know nothing," her body sagged. "This is far bigger than a war between heaven and hell. Do you really think I would have approved of it otherwise?"

There was something about her words that rubbed Vox the wrong way, a cryptic, foreboding meaning hiding in them that caused goosebumps to rise on his skin.

"What do you mean?" Evidently, Lucifer felt the same.

Blinking out of the unsettling stupor, Sera shook her head. "It doesn't matter. You don't need to concern yourselves with it."

"We do actually," Vox interjected. "You've taken something of ours. We want him back."

"That's not possible." she bit, uncompromising to a fault and it thinned Vox's restraint to a hair's width.

He had hoped to avoid doing what he did next, but the seraphim had left him no choice. Tapping into his memories - ones he will never forget - Vox allowed a clip of Valentino's raw screams to erupt from his speakers.

If she refused to understand reason, then Vox would let her intimately experience the effects of what she's doing. He felt everyone bristle, caught in surprise. Sera remained steadfast and unaffected, but the more the audio drawled on, full of Valentino desperately screaming for mercy, the more Sera tensed up in horror.

After a few distressing seconds, Vox terminated the audio and bathed in the disquieting silence that followed. "This is what you've been doing to him for an entire month."

Sera didn't say anything, she simply sat frozen in place. 

"What reason could you possibly have to justify it?" Vox endorsed the acrimony sizzling on his tongue to latch onto his words.

"It's... it's necessary. That's all you need to know." Sera obstinately reiterated.

Vox let the audio run for another few seconds. Merciless, he didn't stop it until Sera had to turn her face away from discomfort to block out the wretched noises.

"Is it necessary? Or is that something you tell yourself to sleep better at night?"

Sera closed her eyes and even from the drone, Vox could see her jaw grinding. "He's a sinner. He's done unspeakable things." she tried to keep her voice even, but the anxious tremble of shame and culpability in it was now evident.

"Ah, so you're the good guy here? You're teaching him a lesson by torturing him?" Vox persisted. Despite the nausea and dread whirling in his gut, he will not let one stubborn, sanctimonious bitch keep him away from Val. "Is this how heaven deals justice? By answering cruelty with more cruelty. How does that make you any better?"

"I..." Sera sighed, the visible exhaustion, guilt and weariness of being confronted with the truth tearing her to pieces. "He's evil, and he's helping keep evil at bay."

"He's a person." Vox snapped.

Her fingers flexed as defensive fire began to flicker behind her eyes. "Do you really think I don't know why you're doing this?" she leaned forward on her elbows, staring Vox down. "You are determined in your effort to convince me you're searching for him out of the kindness of your heart, but your reasons are selfish. You are fooling no one, and I will not risk the safety of the universe to satisfy greed."

Oh, how wrong she was, but before Vox could retort, Lucifer piped up "That's not the point, Sera. The point is you don't need to do any of this." his tone turned squeamish, but the urgency in it didn't lessen. "...wait, what do you mean the safety of the universe?"

Sera stiffened. "...as I said. It's none of your concern."

"You said he's helping keep evil at bay. What does that mean?"

"It means nothing. I misspoke."

"Sera... is something happening?" Lucifer carefully prodded. 

"No." she hissed through gritted teeth. "Nothing is happening. The project is not going to be terminated. The candidate will remain in heaven's hold. And you will never attempt to contact heaven like this again."

Her hand lifted and soaked the footage in bright, divine light.

Realizing what she was planning to do, Vox hurriedly yelled "No, no no no don't!"

But, it was useless. In the blink of an eye, the feed was cut off, thrusting Vox's monitor in black-white buzzing static. She had killed the signal.

Chapter Text

Every day began the same way. With pain.

Valentino quickly grew quite tired of having to wake up and have the first thing he felt be pain. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice but to endure it. And that's what he did; over and over and over and over till the moment he dropped unconscious. 

Thankfully, the agonizing intervals of awareness were short-lived and fleeting, each of them blending and overlapping like shuffling a deck of cards. While he was awake, he could do nothing but lay on the floor and bear the aftermath of what Adam and Lute had done to him. 

He couldn't remember how much time has passed since Adam had...

Since he had...

Valentino didn't even want to say it. He didn't want to name the violation that left him as little more than a shivering bundle of nerves, despite having done it himself countless times to other people. He didn't want to acknowledge it as some indelible, lasting truth. His lower region hurt so much he refused to accept it came from his own body, pushing the excruciating pain to the back of his mind in the hope it will eventually rot away into non-existence. His throat hurt too... so fucking much, his skin charred, the smell of burning flesh invading his nostrils even hours later, perhaps days.

The spreader bar had been removed, and so has the toy, but it made no difference. He was beaten and torn apart so badly he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't speak. To his surprise - and eternal relief - they hadn't sealed the latex over his mouth again, sparing his ability to finally breathe after what felt like an eternity bereft of even that small, basic human need. The past few weeks had granted him a fresh perspective of how he had been taking something as simple as breathing for granted.

But, his gratitude wheedled short when, not long after Adam had finished with him, the fear, panic, pain and adrenaline had evaporated his body and left it helpless to soak the gelid cold back in. Spasms and tremors racked his exhausted form as he laid on the floor; he hadn't moved from the position they had left him.

Memories of the dreadful encounter kept flowing back whether he wanted them or not. Memories of Vox who would probably grimace at the sight of Val if he saw him now. Memories of Velvette who would probably sneer and ridicule him. Memories of Adam that kept multiplying every time he visited Val. Memories of Lute who was probably itching to pick up the whip again. Memories of Alejandro... who would jeer at Val's predicament and tell him how stupid he had been to think he could ever rise above the measly, whimpering whore Alejandro had moulded him into.

And memories of his family, his mother, his siblings, which he tried to deflect most of all, determined not to let the horrors happening to him sully their image or proliferate Val's guilt for what he had done to them-

No. No, he won't remiss that particular memory. Anything but that memory. Anything but that one night when he had betrayed everything he loved and incited his path to becoming a monster.

His musings got broken when he heard the tell-tale creak of the steel door to his cell slide open.

Fear plunged his stomach into a nauseous whirlwind as his heart skipped a beat. If he was still capable of producing tears, he would have sobbed on the spot. He wasn't ready yet. Not nearly ready for another round. It was too soon after the last time. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Just for a little while, just for a few goddamn days?

He made no sound as footsteps drew nearer to where he lay slumped and soundless. The person was speaking and Val could barely make out the words.

"-bitch." Adam - Valentino guessed - cursed under a muffled breath as though he thought Val couldn't hear him. "Telling me to tone it down? Hey, we're going to torture sinners. But, wait not that much." he whistled in a high-pitched, mocking voice. "Are you kidding me? Fucking Sera. Getting cold feet as usual."

Valentino tuned him out. He knew he should be listening, but he just couldn't. He couldn't do anything anymore.

Pretending to be unconscious proved more difficult the more Adam came closer to him. When he shuffled to a stop in front of him with a gruff, mopey stump, Valentino bristled.

His chest stuttered when a pair of rough hands suddenly began to tear the latex from his upper body. The chilly flush of air over his clammy, sweaty skin rushed Valentino back to reality as more and more of the plastic peeled off. The days spent in solitary recovery had weakly healed most of his wounds, allowing the surface layer of his skin to shed along with the latex. It stung when Adam removed the parts melted on his wings, but Val barely twitched.

When Adam finally shrugged off the part covering his head, Valentino could have sworn he fell through to another dimension.

It took him a while to crack his eyes open, with the first few attempts squeezing them shut right back again after the flood of lurid, white light attacked his sensitive, shrouded vision. The world swirled out of focus like he was seeing it for the first time.

Reborn.

"Well, hello." Adam chirped above him, far too leering for Val's liking.

Val tried to steady his gaze on him to sharpen the yellow and purple blotch that barely resembled a human figure. If it wasn't for his voice, Val wouldn't have been able to recognize it was Adam. All of his senses have been thrown askew from the weeks of suffocation by the suit.

But, his mind instinctively latched onto the sight of a gleaming knife in Adam's hand, sending a bout of ringing panic that Valentino couldn't keep up with. Adam crouched down, speaking and mumbling something insulting that flew beyond Val's worn comprehension. The knife glinted near Val's chest and the next moment the taut restraint of the rope holding his wrists to his torso was sliced.

It lamely fell to the floor along with Val's taped hands. Something red decorated his chest and it took Val a moment to recognize it as blood. Adam had cut him in the process and Val hadn't even reacted.

The tape from all four of his hands was removed shortly after, revealing the gory sight of Val's scratched up palms - an effect from his newly regrown claws digging in from the many, many efforts of trying to break free.

Val stared at them solemnly. A morbid sensation fluttered through his defeated soul from the sight and all he felt was apathetic, resigned.

Fingers grabbed his jaw, surprisingly less harsh than the ones leaving bruises this past month, and tilted his head. Adam was so close and seeing his face neither worsened nor improved the foreboding dismay in Val's rippling heart.

"-ou with me?" Adam seemed to ask.

Valentino didn't answer.

"Blink if you can hear me." he ordered, then after a second he added "if you disobey you know what happens."

Val's breath hitched at the promise of pain. He knows what happens if he disobeys, he knows it intimately: the collar.

Val blinked.

"Good." Adam praised. "You're still kicking then. You better be after four days. If you were still a boring slob I would have probably cut your head clean off myself."

A distant part of Valentino secretly hoped he would.

"But, I won't." his other hand found its way atop Val's temple, not pushing down, but heavy enough to prove who had all the control. "I think you learned your lesson about disobeying your masters - and about attacking them. Are you going to try something that stupid again?"

The question wasn't rhetorical.

Valentino voicelessly shook his head with empty eyes.

"Good." Adam praised again. "You're finally learning how this shit works. Try not to forget it again." he flattened with a tetchy tone before abruptly releasing Val's jaw.

His head plopped lamely to the floor. As Adam walked away to sit on the cage in the corner, Val allowed himself to sag; enjoying the overwhelming feeling of a free, unrestricted body after what felt like an eternity.

He was yanked out of his despairing reverie when Adam sighed and bluntly said "Come here."

Valentino crinkled his eyes open again and frowned. The order settled deep into his gut and if he focused he could feel the power in the collar stirring - a warning.

He didn't want to move. Every part of him begged for sleep, to rest, to forget about his predicament and escape if only for a little while. But, the more he postponed the inevitable, the more the collar began to heat up.

Like some pathetic Pavlovian response, Val's bones shook harder with panic, spiking his adrenaline. Perhaps, that was what a collar was meant to be: a basic training tactic used for animals. 

It took every ounce of his strength for him to roll over on his stomach. Looking around, he saw Adam was only a few feet away from him; odd, Val could have sworn his voice wavered from miles away. With gritted teeth, Val dug his claws in the marble and used the hold to shove himself forward. He couldn't get up, not even on all fours, the very thought of attempting to sent a dizzy wave through his head. 

One frail, pitiful movement at a time, Val inched his way closer to Adam, the potential sear of the collar prompting him forward. It didn't take long for him to start panting; sweat beaded at his forehead, shivers flooded his form, the uncountable injuries on his body stalling his progress. 

Unfortunately, the exhaustion caught up to him and he flopped chest first on the floor, heaving. "Can't-" he choked.

He couldn't take another shock from the barbaric thing around his neck, but he just couldn't continue. He has been tortured and abused in every possible way since he had been brought here and the effects were catching up to him like a growling avalanche.

Merciless, the heat of the collar dialed up. Val squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating the unbearable shock.

"Yes, you can." Adam pouted, less encouraging and more expectant. 

The sound of a chain clanking drew Val's attention and a moment later he felt an insistent tug at his throat. He craned his neck to alleviate the strain and saw a long chain leading from the collar to Adam's hands, magically brought to existence.

The pull of the chain tightened, cutting Val's breathing. His legs and arms squabbled against the ground for purchase as Adam forcibly dragged him forward by the throat.

When the last few feet had been crossed, the chain loosened and Val crashed back down into a gasping, coughing mess.

Adam's hand carded along Val's healthy antenna. "Remember what I said about your position when you're in front of me?"

Val clenched his teeth. Why couldn't the fucker just give him five damn seconds to catch his breath?

He did remember the positions he had been instructed in and the only reason he plunged himself in the agony of retaking them was the threat of the collar ready to incinerate him on the spot. He barely managed to lift himself and it took forever for him to even sit up. On his knees, legs apart, palms up and back hunched submissively, Valentino presented himself to Adam, obedient as the slave Adam wanted him to be. When his tired gaze coincidentally landed on his body Val gasped in horror.

Ribs protruding ghoulishly from his chest, hip bones jutting out in a skeletal, macarbe stretch of skin, and legs soaked in blood so abundant they had been painted red. Ghastly bruises, lashes and burns desecrated his entire being. The jagged scars Adam gifted him from the very first day had long since healed, now looking like slimy worms under skin that has never been anything less than fair. He will never be able to show himself on camera again, not with those nasty scars marring his torso. But, what really stilled his world was the sight of his wings.

What should have been vibrant, crimson, gorgeous wings sitting idly by his sides, instead they were replaced with crumpled, chained rags of pale pink, an ugly shade that reeked of sickness.

Appalled, Val traced the outlining of one wing, affirming whether those even were his wings since they looked so far from the stark grandeur Val knows should be associated with them. The frilly fuzz which should be fluffy and soft was dry and wrinkled with patches of it missing in random places.

His wings. His beautiful, precious wings...

They looked awful. They looked disease-ridden. They looked ugly - he looked ugly. A prime result of what weeks and weeks of ceaseless dehydration, starvation, asphyxiation and physical abuse could do to someone.

Val couldn't tear his eyes from them despite wanting to do nothing more. A rueful, splintering wave of despair obliterated his soul at the state his wings had been reduced to.

The hand playing with his antenna softened its touch. "Now, where have I seen this before?" Adam feigned contemplation and at the sound of his voice the misery in Val sharply twisted into fury. "Oh, yeah! That's right! Right before you tried to fucking stab me!"

Adam had done this to him. He had ruined his wings.

His hand stilled, lightly fisting the antenna, not enough to hurt, but enough to make Val shudder. "I think you still owe me an apology for that." 

When Val stubbornly didn't procure a response, Adam's hand tightened further in warning.

Val closed his eyes, tamping down his deplore. "... I'm... sorry."

Adam's hand squeezed the antenna, sending a spark of pain through Val's nervous system.

Val stifled a hiss. "I'm... sorry... master."

Fuck. Every time he was forced to address Adam as his master became increasingly more crippling. He couldn't continue this unjust game. Debasing himself for someone he despised with no reward but a scarcity of more pain was exhausting. It was starting to make him feel inferior and he wanted to claw the shame it dragged him under out of his gut.

"Hmm, I suppose it's good enough." his hold relaxed and Val exhaled a sigh of relief. "It's not like we don't have enough time to shape up your attitude."

Val gulped, convincing himself Adam's words were untrue. They weren't true. This won't last. He will get out of here, perhaps not now but someday he will, and he will never have to kneel or bow or call anyone master ever again.

"Give me your hand," Adam sternly demanded.

For a moment, fear washed over Val, suspecting Adam will hurt him again, but after he hesitantly offered his hand - unwilling to suffer more cruelty for the sake of maintaining his recalcitrance - Adam turned it over and slapped the dagger on it.

Val gawked at it.

"Well," Adam released his hand, giving him sole custody of the knife and presenting himself bare for Val to attack. "What will it be this time?"

Val froze on the spot, painstakingly aware that Adam was testing him, gauging out whether Val has "learned" anything from the previous time he held this exact same dagger in this exact same position. The collar won't let him drive the knife even an inch into Adam's flesh, Val knew that, but the temptation of retribution laid like an invigorating tonic on his tongue, egging him on, whispering in his ear to Do it. Just do it and make him pay for everything he did to you.

The tension glazed over the room, palpable as Adam waited for his response. The dagger weighed heavy in his palm, giving him the illusion of power. But, Val knew better than to fall for it.

Slowly, Val returned the knife to Adam, hilt forward.

Adam smiled, a delighted, toothy smile, as he took the dagger back and pocketed it. His hand settled between Val's antennae, harmless and gentle. "Good boy."

Val stilled under the patronization boiling him even as Adam started to caress the short, delicate hairs, his soothing touch harboring the potential threat of pain with every minute movement. Despite the condescending display of ownership, Val didn't have it in him to bat his hand away.

"You could have avoided all of that, you know? If you had just behaved. Well, all of it except that last bit. That part was always going to happen." Adam slid his hand under Val's jaw, tender in a way one might hold a lover, and tilted his head up. "You understand why we had to punish you like that, don't you? Don't think it was for my benefit, or Lute's. This isn't some kind of sexual fantasy for us. It was all entirely meant for you to repent."

Liar.

He held his gaze for a long, heavy moment. "And it's going to happen again. As many times as it takes for you to regret the pain you have caused and realize what a disgusting piece of shit you are. I'm not going to stop until you feel so fucking bad for all the things you've done that you're gonna beg me to chop your dick off."

Valentino simply stared at him. His brain floated in and out of the moment, sporadically varying between disassociation and horror at the words casually spilling from Adam's mouth. How carelessly Adam had said it to him while the burning pain still lingered in Val's lower region stumped him. He knew it was gone, but he could still feel the toy inside him, a chronic, phantom presence he couldn't eradicate. It should terrify him beyond belief - to hear how the man carefully holding his chin planned to rape him over and over again - but, for some reason all Valentino felt was numb.

He has been numb for such a long time now.

He was just so tired. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be safe. He wanted to feel something soft like a pillow or talk to someone who didn't treat him like scum if only so he wouldn't forget what it felt like. In truth, he marveled at his own train of thought; a month ago he never would have treaded those aggrieved musings and it made him reminisce all the times he's lounged on a plush, warm bed, how he had wantonly indulged in the finest meals and beverages to his heart's content, how he had spurned the most luxurious, opulent restaurants before wastefully throwing half the food away, how he had bought the silkiest, most expensive clothes while stepping on the poor beggars waiting beside the front doors, how he had derided people however he pleased without fearing being punished for his curt wording, how he had reveled in his impunity with reckless, bloody abandon and how he had been taking all of it for granted.

Now? He would sacrifice a limb to get even a taste of that back.

"But, we're not in any rush, right? You're not going anywhere anytime soon so we're gonna take it easy today. You're not really capable of doing much else anyway." His judging gaze raked up and down Val's wobbly form.

A relieved breath breezed out of Val.

"I want you to realize how easier it is when you do what I tell you. All that stuff I said when you first came here is still on the fucking table, hasn't left actually." Adam stopped petting him to instead lift Val's chin higher to emphasize his point. "This will be your life from now on. The life you lived before is over. You won't be going back to it. Forget about leaving, just ditch the idea completely. This cell is your home. Me and Lute will be the only people you'll see for the rest of your miserable existence." his hold tightened to a painful degree and if Val wasn't so out of it he would have winced. "Get me?"

There was a dangerous stiffness lurking in his tone, a clear indicator he was not in the mood to be tested. 

Fine.

Val didn't care.

He just... didn't care.

"...Yes." he hated how hushed his voice sounded.

Something flickered in Adam's eyes, a silent, venomous snake that rarely showed itself but had the virulence to deal great damage when it did. "Great. Fucking fantastic. Finally, god, you had to drag this out for a month when you could have been this good from the start. Shame."

His grip loosened, returning to the almost gentle caress.

"We're making progress that's good. Due to your bitch-ass badmouthing I didn't even get the chance to explain your redemption program. Oh, yeah, we have it all planned out. Similar to those stupid exercises Blondie is doing down below that she keeps insisting actually work." he exaggeratedly rolled his eyes with an irritated scoff. "Except ours are way better. Tomorrow - now, listen carefully, - I'm going to come back and we're going to do some bible revisions."

Val's face must have subconsciously scrunched up, baffled, phlegmatic and incredulous in equal measure.

"Yeah, it's... whatever. It's still more efficient than the bonding exercises Miss My Little Pony is doing with your previous top whore. Which - ah, the irony." a bark of a laugh rolled out of him. "He's having the time of his life you know: free housing, free food, annoying but gullible friends, he's doing great... and look where you are. How the tables have turned." 

Val didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about Angel otherwise someone will get hurt. Probably, himself.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say is your exercises will be a little more... thorough. None of those trust falls or sharing secrets or holding hands bullshit. We're gonna get right down to the basics. I know your eyesight is shit and you can't read, so I'm going to read it to you. You're welcome, no need to thank me, just doing my job. And I expect you to listen and repeat. Vices, virtues, Bible verses, everything, the whole gig. We're gonna go through them all and study your ass off."

Did this man ever shut the fuck up? Val wasn't even listening to him anymore, Adam would go on forever if allowed and Val didn't have the energy for that. He loathed to ponder Adam's version of studying, but he didn’t doubt it included some sort of punishment if Val underperformed and dread roiled in his gut at the thought.

The stiffness in his neck developed into a cramp from the way Adam kept it craned and it became strenuous trying to keep up the blank, passive appearance of devoted attention. His head subconsciously leaned into Adam's touch, letting him support its weight. Val was so tired. He just wanted Adam to leave so he can get some sleep. That's all. He wasn't even asking for much, just a few hours of rest.

"I know you people can't actually be redeemed, I'm not so naïve, but I have a task to do and I'm gonna do it well. This is only the first step, the second one is getting rid of all those sins you've checked off like a shopping list and then we can finally get to the part of making you a better person. You already know how we'll deal with your Lust," his voice dropped, ominous and suggestive. "You're still not allowed to orgasm, by the way. You're not meant to enjoy it; I'll wring every last bit of pleasure from sex out of you until you hate it. If you even come close to coming, this thing," he tugged the chain, indicating to the collar at Val's neck. "Will set off. I admit, it wasn't easy to figure out, considering how you got turned on by every minor fucking thing, but... I think we cracked that little issue last time."

Val hated the chill it released down his spine. He hated it with every fiber of his being.

He continued to stare, listless.

Empty.

"The rest will be a lot easier. Pride? You've already been humiliated beyond belief so that one's easy to get rid of. Sloth? You are a slave now, slaves work. Don't think we'll just let you sleep off your whole redemption. Greed? You have nothing. No property, no money, no clothes, no possessions. Nothing. Get used to it. Envy? That's gonna be a little tricky, seeing what a catty, jealous bitch you are, but nothing I can't handle. Wrath? You know what happens when you lash out." he tapped the collar. "I won't fucking tolerate it. Gluttony? ...Oh, right."

Adam suddenly released his face and Val blinked the daze away, returning to himself as Adam reached into his pockets and retrieved what looked like the same bottle of water and bundle of food he had brought what now seemed centuries ago.

"I assume you want these." he dangled the items in his hands.

On cue, Val's stomach grumbled, betraying his caustic hunger.

"Of course, you do. You haven't eaten anything since you came here. It's your own fault for that, I would have given you these sooner but you just had to be a cunt and try to kill me. But, since you've been so good today I'll let you have them. See? See how nice I can be? You just have to be nice too, it's quite simple, even a sinner can catch on."

Val's mouth watered, his ears blocking out Adam's self-absorbed charade as his eyes stayed locked on the water. Oh, such a simple thing thirst was, yet so destructive.

Val nodded absentmindedly.

"Alright, since you want them so bad. And because I'm feeling pretty generous I'll even give you a choice where you want to go."

His tone fluctuated to something strange and barbed. Val didn't like it at all.

"You can have them here or you can go in your cage." he kicked the cage with his leg to draw Val's attention to it.

That managed to unglue Val's gaze and he sharply looked up at Adam. His brows furrowed and the delayed response only heightened Adam's diabolical suggestion.

Adam lifted an amused eyebrow at Val's reaction. "Remember how I said I won't force you in it? It wasn't a lie - if you even know what not lying means. You can go in your cage or... you can stay here, with me."

There was something in Adam's expression that sent alarm bells in Val's head, perhaps it was the cruel, insidious upturn of his smile, or the eager spark in his eyes, or the threat woven in his words.

With me.

Lute had been wrong: Val did have a choice. He could choose to go in a cage too small and restrictive for him and he could suffer in it, or he could stay here.

...with Adam.

All along he had thought of the cage as nothing more than another device to torment him, but it turned out to be the exact opposite. For the first time he was seeing it as protection from the vicious, sadistic monster in front of him.

Adam's smile didn't damp. On the contrary, it seemed his sly glee was the only thing keeping it from brightening his whole face.

Val made his decision.

Slowly, mindful not to somehow tick Adam off, he began to inch his way to the cage in fragile, meager movements.

Adam simply raised his eyebrow higher and dissipated the chain connecting them. His predatory gaze followed Val's movements as he let him roam. Noticing Val's limited range of motion from a body too tense and sapped, Adam opened the door of the cage for him and lounged atop it, giving him time.

Valentino's shoulders subconsciously tensed, his head lowering, his fur standing on end, askance and wary if Adam will hit him for somehow "choosing wrong." When the opening was within reach, Val stopped. Up close, it didn't look as small as he approximated, it might actually fit him, but he would undoubtedly be uncomfortably jammed.

He knew he had been imprisoned, but he couldn't deny that truth when an actual visual representation of it stood before him, threatening to swallow him whole. The narrow inside of the cage vibrated menacingly, making him claustrophobic just by looking at it. Torn, he glanced up at Adam, for what he didn't know.

A sympathetic, compassionate expression was all he saw, so far from the scowling hatred usually affixed on Adam's face. "Go on." he said softly, patient and soothing like encouraging a toddler to take his first steps.

Val didn't want to go in, but the prospect of spending another minute more with Adam discouraged him even more.

When he finally mustered up the will to move forward, he had to close his eyes. He didn't want to see himself sealing his own fate.

The bars dug in his skin, cold and unrelenting, as he shimmied in a fetal position, tucking his legs in, and he jumped when Adam kicked his wings inside like kicking a stray feral dog. Val instantly brought them to his chest both to shield them and to calm himself with their faux comfort.

The next moment, Val violently flinched when Adam aggressively threw the food and bottle of water inside, nearly hitting his head. It was an insignificant, fleeting thing this cage, but when Adam slammed the door shut with a loud, metallic rattle, something in Val died like snuffing out a light.

The acrid sensation lingered in his heart even as he scrambled for the water. His fingers shook as he tried to pry the cap off. Adam's piercing stare bore into him, watching Val struggle to open up the bottle. It fell from his hands a few times, his arms so weak they couldn't keep a firm hold on it. The casing creaked from his efforts and his muscles burned from the exertion and an anguished sob crawled out when it grew too unbearable for him to continue.

It lay lax in his hands, slumped against the bottom of the cage as Val heaved in defeated breaths.

Lounged on the cage, Adam hummed above him. "Too bad." he noted, disinterested. "If you had chosen to stay with me I could have opened it for you."

It was there. The water he has been begging for for over a month was right there and he couldn't reach it. His instincts took over, desperate and primal, and without thinking he brought the bottle up to his face and bit down with all his might, slicing the plastic.

...Water trickled into his mouth.

Blessed, heavenly water doused the desecrated dryness like a raging river sloshing over a barren desert. He couldn't process the noises he was making, all of his focus concentrated on lapping up every single drop. His arms trembled, his breathing coming in heavy; tears involuntarily cascaded from the corners of his eyes as his throat lunged into relief.

"Pff," Adam huffed. "Whatever." The cage shuddered as Adam removed his weight from it and Val barely registered that he was leaving the room before Adam gave him one last "Enjoy your new home." and shut the door behind him.

Silence stretched into the vacant cell only broken by Valentino's haggard gasps. When he finished with it, he let the empty bottle roll out of his grasp and he sagged as the debilitating thirst ebbed away.

It didn't take him long to reach for the aluminum-wrapped bundle of food, frantic and starved, he ripped the casing open, but when he finally saw the single loaf of bread that was inside his heart cleaved.

His fingers tested the density with specks of flour sprinkled atop their pads and his frown deepened. It was light and powder dry and looking at it he couldn't help the influx of sobs that finally bested his restraint.

The humiliation, the pain, the whipping, the suffering, the latex, the rape, all of it had been for this? For this single, pitiful excuse of food? Val didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that after a month of unremitting starvation this was his reward.

His chest rippled as the tears rushed through and, in the end, Val still ate the entire thing.

Chapter Text

Pebbles bit the soles of Valentino's worn out shoes as he strode angrily along the sidewalk. Junk, gum, rubbish and god knew what else littered what would be a relatively charming neighborhood, but they didn't pollute it nearly as much as the racist gringos that liked to accost Val.

His knuckles still gleamed with his fresh blood despite his mother's best efforts to dab them clean. She had been truly affronted when she had found out he had involved himself in another fight the other day; she had called him reckless, foolish and stupid and he had argued back, naturally. He knew why she worried about him, antagonizing white boys always held the possibility of blue and red sirens banging on their door the next morning, but how could he be blamed? She was the one who had instilled a reactive sense of justice since he was a child then she expected him to quietly soak in the abuse without protest as an adult? How does that work?

The exasperation in her expression however had mollified after Valentino had relayed the slurs and vulgarity they had shouted at him. He never needed to hide anything from her and as much as that was a safety net of relief it was also an expectancy he didn't always feel comfortable falling into. After fluttering rumors of his affinity for both girls and boys had reached her ears she had developed more consideration for his right to secrecy. 

And it felt good, knowing she wasn't disgusted at him for it (without taking into account the months of adjustment and despondency that her child was a queer she had to endure), but it only incinerated his anger at the rest of the world for it. If his mother could overcome her biases then so could the rest of society, they simply didn't want to and it fueled Val with resentful righteousness and only made him more confident. After all, why should he care about the opinions of people who would never like to see him rise above anything than the silent, inoffensive dirt they believed he should be part of?

Besides, he hadn't even... been intimate with anyone that way yet, he had merely been frosting the interest into kisses and gentle, but passionate touches. But, it didn't stop people from talking. He was well aware of the promiscuity people associated with him and he was torn on whether to rebuff it or not. On one hand, he reveled in the attention and praise aimed at his attractive looks. He wasn't really good at anything else - a downpour to his mother's aspirations for him. The third school his mother had sent him to was currently tipping over the line of kicking him out like the previous two had done for his "rebellious" tendencies which had never been anything other than self-defense (except on a few aberrant, more aggressive occasions when he felt bored). Not that anyone ever asked him, and he didn't exactly have a track record of good grades. He wasn't good at science, or literature, or geography, or history; he wasn't like his sister who was bright, smart, kind and a much better person than him. Except for her snark, that was one thing they shared proudly.

His talent for music and art currently served as the only thread tethering him to a good future. His mother still encouraged his talents. All the time. The occasional smack of a slipper only made itself present when his quick fists or volatile mouth got him in trouble. 

But on the other hand? It was dangerous. His parents had managed to secure themselves in a safer area despite the empty pockets they had come with, but news travels fast, gossip spreads, people jabbered, and word of a queer, Hispanic boy terrorizing good, respectable whites would undoubtedly stir some unwanted ire. It worried his mother and he tried not to let his failures damp her peace. He did his best to help around the house and he will finally be able to apply for a job when he turns eighteen next month. She really needed more help since his father had begun slacking on his own teetering job to do nothing but lounge on the couch, and she'll especially need it now since she discovered she was pregnant with another baby.

"Oi! Fairy!" an aggravatingly familiar voice yelled out.

Val halted and clenched his teeth. Didn't this asshole ever get the memo to leave him the fuck alone? "Pinche cabrón."

He heard a distant "Sissy." followed by a predictable "Poofter." indicating Clyde wasn't alone this time. Val twisted around and saw a group of the same three gangly, smug morons who usually liked to terrorize the neighborhood. Their heads didn't need to be full as long as their daddies' pockets were.

A brief look at Clyde's swollen black eye - courtesy of Val himself - had Val smirking. "You here to get the other eye to match?" he asked, cocky.

For a moment, Clyde grimaced before chewing on his cheek to tamp down his fury. "You mean this?" he pointed at his face. "Hardly felt it. Nah, me and my buddies are here to sock you into the ground."

Val raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Clyde had never been good at beading insults creatively. Or fighting for that matter. "Can't handle me yourself so you called for backup, huh?" Val observed with pointed derision, a laugh in his tone.

Clyde snarled. "As long as it gets degenerates like you out of my town-" neighborhood. "- I don't care how many of us it takes."

"You gonna call your mommy next?" Val needled, his fingers flexing over the handle of the shopping bags.

"Or I'll just go to your momma," at that Val bristled, his body tensing up. "Pay her a little visit. Might finally get her to go back where she came from."

Val dropped the bags.

His heart stuttered in his chest and his blood coursed with fresh adrenaline.

He didn't doubt Melina could stand her own ground, especially against this lanky, incompetent prick, but just Clyde's gall to talk about her that way had Val seeing red.

His hands clenched into fists as he fully turned his body towards the trio, muscles pulled taut, ready to pounce. "Bring it, hijo de puta."

All three of them settled into a fighting position and Val's confidence slightly waned when they each pulled out a weapon, the first a crowbar, the second a broken bottle and Clyde a knife. They really meant business this time.

Val didn't relinquish his ground; it might have been stupid, but no one spoke about his mamá like that. No one. Val's heart sped up when they began to advance, gazes hateful and weapons hoisted, but suddenly they halted and Val stiffened in confusion.

Was this a trick? Did they bring more people and only used the trash talk to distract Val? Paranoid, Val turned around, looking for anyone trying to stalk up behind him, but all he saw was a sleek, black limousine parked a few feet from where he stood.

The window rolled down and Val had to lean to ascertain the person sitting inside, their face obscured under the car's shadow. 

"Do we have a problem here boys?" came a smooth, deep voice.

"Uh," Clyde stuttered. Val has never seen his eyes so wide before. "No."

"Good." the man in the car spoke again. "Run along now." it wasn't a question.

Val vaguely detected the hint of an accent, but what intrigued Val more was his confidence. He spoke as though the very ground bowed to him and he couldn't help but tilt his head further, squinting to gauge out the man's features.

Clyde and the other two idiots scattered as if a rabid pile of dogs was biting at their ankles. The sight was so ridiculous, Val didn't understand what the hell had just happened; Clyde never respected any authority that wasn't ordained by himself.

Slowly, his neck creaked to look back at the man.

"Wish he'd listen to me like that." he commented honestly.

The man huffed and lifted a cigarette to his lips. The brief golden glow of the tip weakly illuminated his face and Val gleamed a hint of sharp cheekbones, a charming, crooked nose, thick, mean eyebrows with hair just as stark, and a pair of deep brown eyes that danced with the light like a fire in the night. The man lowered the cigar and just like that, those features disappeared into the darkness once more.

"What's your name, niño?" he asked.

"Valentino." he answered warily. He didn't usually give his name so spontaneously but the man captivated him.

"Valentino." he repeated, mulling over the syllables. "Perfect. It suits you."

There it was. "Gracias." Val hesitantly said, creeped out. He bent down to pick up his bags and quickly said "Thanks for stepping in, you saved them a trip to the hospital." more than ready for the conversation to end.

"Wait." the man quipped with obvious amusement in his tone.

Shit.

"I don't suppose you could humble me with a few minutes of your time." 

Well, he was definitely eloquent with his words. Few men were these days and if Val were anyone else he probably would have fallen for the amorous allure. But, he knew better.

"I'm sorry, senõr, but I have to go." he tried to turn the man down politely but clearly as he slowly stepped away from the car.

"Back home to your family, huh?" he pointed out, taking another puff of his cigarette. "You having some money problems, chico?"

Val bristled, halting. 

How did he know?

The man must have noticed because he lazily flicked a pointed finger up and down Val's frame. Following it, Val looked at his clothes and to his shame saw the blaring indicator of their financial struggles. Pale patches littered a once vibrant red shirt, the seams of his pants stood up, torn, and his shoes were dirtied and creased from years of use.

"Está bien, you don't have to be embarrassed." the man assuaged. "I can help."

Val's fingers squeezed the bags as the man reached into his jacket and pulled out a white card.

"I have a free spot in one of my clubs, if you're interested." he extended his hand.

Val stared at the card for a moment before cautiously accepting it. He couldn't prevent the indignant scoff he let out when he saw exactly what kind of establishment the man had in mind.

He didn't know who the man was himself, but Val's good people skills have involved him in the neighborhood network well enough to recognize the place. Now, he understood why Clyde had run away like that.

"I'm not a whore." he snidely returned the card.

The man laughed. "No, no, cariño. You misunderstand me." he waved Val's hand away, refusing to take back the card. "You won't be doing that kind of work. I only need someone to wait the tables."

Val's brows scrunched up, unconvinced, but some of his chagrin ebbed away.

"Come now, don't be silly. I wouldn't offer that to someone like you. How old even are you, baby? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Seventeen." Val wanted to leave.

The man crooned "So young. You shouldn't have to worry about money at your age. So, how about my offer, hmm? You wouldn't have to do anything you don't want to except serve some drinks and give a few smiles." his voice became softer, more sympathetic. "Surely, you must have noticed how beautiful you are. You're also funny, clients will roll in just to see you. All you would have to do is stand and look pretty, nothing more, I promise."

Praise flowed easily from his mouth and as he talked, Val couldn't help the red flush that snuck onto his cheeks. Usually, the compliments he received were crude and propositional, but this man didn't weave his own selfish desires through, he simply highlighted Val's beauty.

Val supposed he should take any compliment he could get, even if they were only directed at his looks; it's not as if his personality was anything to be admired. And yet, the man had called him funny. He was interested in Val's charm and the things he had to say.

Val raked his gaze over the man's silhouette, trying to decipher him. It was entirely possible he was swindling him, doting on him to get his guard down to then stuff him in his trunk or something. But, he hadn't invited Val into his car. If he had, Val would have bolted from the scene faster than the speed of light. He wasn't an idiot.

...but, he also wasn't someone who had an abundance of offers at his disposal he could whimsically decline. Beggars couldn't be choosers. And while he didn't doubt one or two would sprout in the future, his conscience twinged with guilt. His mother had overworked herself his entire life while telling him not to spoil his childhood by slaving away at a job. He helped with the home and chores as often as he could, but washing dishes and babysitting hardly counted as moneymaking. She needed a break. She deserved a break.

The card weighed in his hand, light and permissive, though the number on it held high value. It sounded good, too good even. He could console himself, but he knew that whatever job proposition he received later on wouldn't be as auspicious as the one staring him in the face.

He could use the money. His mom and sister could use the money. They all could. All he had to do was serve tables for a few hours a day.

...for a while anyway. Perhaps, he could worm his way into the man's good graces and snatch a promotion. Men like him who practically shimmered with the clatter of falling coins were a gold ticket to success. If Val played his cards right, he could pry his family out of poverty's clutches using this man as an anchor. He could make something of himself. He could finally be someone his mother could be proud of.

"...how big of a pay are we talking?"

The man's smile stretched. "We can discuss the details. All you have to do is show up and we'll get you settled."

Val looked at the card again. Such a simple thing: a place, a number, and a name. Alejandro Ramírez. 

Well... whoever he was, Val wasn't naive enough to get manipulated so easily. If the job didn't suit him, he'll decline; he won't let himself be sucked into an infamous man's scheme. He was smart enough to see this man for who he was and he had no intention of succumbing to anyone's charms or promises.

"...I'll call you." Val finally said.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Adam came the next morning with a bible in hand.

With a swift kick to his cage, he jolted Valentino awake. It took Valentino a while to recognize where he was and why his body ached so horribly; his neck and shoulders throbbing from the stiffness of being confined in a box all night. Luckily, when Adam let him out, Val had the opportunity to stretch his limbs, but the archangel didn't give him time to gather his wits before he grabbed his collar and tugged him between his knees again, forcing him to bow.

Adam studied him for a moment. "Tell me everything you know about the old testament."

And so it began.

First, they spent a good hour or two drawing out all of Val's preemptive, exceedingly shallow knowledge of the bible. Once Adam got the general idea of where they should begin, he opened the book and began reading.

They covered the more basic books and teachings; stories known to the general public and every once and awhile, Adam asked Val how much he understood, what the verses personally meant to him, how much they resonated, his moral stance on the matter, how he thought a virtuous person would act and so on. Valentino gave his semi-honest answers, naturally, but deep down he wanted to scream the whole time.

Not only did he find his attention flagging every five damn seconds - and he knew Adam wouldn't appreciate him zoning out so he had to focus - but, the topic itself was one of the most drab, boring and life-sucking ones he has ever had the displeasure to engage in. He did not care how badly God had fucked over Job, he did not care how Gabriel had told a teenage girl she had suddenly been impregnated, he did not care about the giant-ass boat Noah had to build. He didn't care, he didn't care, he just didn't care!

Val found his thoughts drifting occasionally, but can he really be blamed? He could feel his brain cells dying. Why was this happening?! He couldn't be paid to listen to this drabble, but unfortunately he had no choice unless he wanted to be beaten to a pulp by that very book.

The swotting lasted for a short time before Adam eventually descended into a self-centered rant about his own history. At least, the drama was much more titillating, despite being told by an unreliable narrator who spent a whole hour derogating the king and queen of hell. What a pathetic little man. Even Val, as possessive and controlling as he could be at times, couldn't stomach Adam's solipsism.

The minutes passed in tense frustration and after Adam finished regaling Valentino (who could not care any less), they started over again. When Adam went to the beginning, Valentino's stomach curled, except this time, Adam ordered him to repeat what he said. Somehow, Val managed to keep up, ignoring the indignation of being lessoned like some kindergartener. 

...But, he did understand one thing from the hours they had spent:

The bible never explicitly prohibits or condemns slavery.

In fact, the more pages they covered the more Val got the general idea that God's idea of devotion meant suffering and mindless obedience. Penance, sacrifice and martyrdom were the fast passes to heaven, exactly what his "training" constituted of.

How convenient.

No wonder Adam had made it into heaven. Perhaps, that's why he had been accepted, a place dictated by a single, redundant book that says "Oh, beating your wife is fine! Yeah, slavery is cool too! We hate gay people for some reason, let them burn." Worshipping a god who would send his creations to an eternal pit of suffering for wearing different textiles simultaneously or eating sea food will undoubtedly accept souls who filled the criteria. Or, perhaps Adam had found a loophole in that very twisted system. After all, didn't the worst of the worst get dumped in hell? Or were they all just evil and the universe flipped a coin?

And yet, Adam was in heaven. How? Why?

Overall, no particular moment stood out from the day's session. Adam didn't hurt him, or force him to hurt himself which was mostly attributed to Val doing everything Adam asked. Finally, Adam closed the book with a long exhale and Valentino practically sagged from relief.

While he reflected on how easier this day had been compared to the rest, Adam suddenly pulled out a heavy, metal file and gave it to him. "For those ugly things." was all he said.

He watched the entire time as Val filed his own claws - them having regrown during his days trapped in the latex.

His hands worked automatically as he submerged in the limitless hatred and stewing resent he harbored for this disdainful man. The fantasy of Adam's blood spattering on Valentino's hands as he wedged the file deep into Adam's heart soothed him; an unattainable dream while that ring of metal still circled his neck but a dream nonetheless. And if Val had learned anything from his time on earth and in hell, it was that good things come to those who wait.

He could wait. He would wait for however long it took to murder the idiot who has hurt him so much. He filed and scraped and sanded and abraded all twenty claws and he winced when he snagged too close to a blood vessel.

Taking that as his cue that he was finished, Val put the file down.

"Did I say you were done?"

Val snapped his gaze up. His brows creased and he presented all of his - now, blunt - claws for Adam to see.

Adam's expression didn't change. "Keep going." he said coldly.

Val felt his spine shiver. Hesitantly, he picked up the file again, but after several more scrapes he had to stop as blood beaded at the tip of his finger.

He turned to look at Adam and this time he couldn't mask his abhor.

"I said," Adam snarled. "Keep. Going."

Val didn't.

They stared at each other, shrill ringing piercing the silence. Val continued to defy him with pure, unadulterated detestation written in his eyes until he felt the collar activate.

His teeth clenched against the threat and when the heat rose too high he averted his gaze. Shame pillaged him, but the collar terrified him more. Reluctantly, he raised the file and began to mangle his own hands.

It didn't take long for him to start shaking. Tremulous hisses and gasps tumbled from his lips as the pain spread through his hands. It hurt so much he could barely keep the tool steady. Blood dripped in rivulets down his forearms, painting them red and he violently flinched when he reached too deep into his bone, the pain too unbearable for him to continue.

The file clattered to the floor as Val cradled his blood-soaked hands and he flinched again when Adam sharply stood up and stomped over to him. Before Val could do anything, Adam backhanded him.

He raised his hand to his stinging cheek, smearing blood on his face and he startled when Adam fisted his fluff and pulled him closer. 

Instinctively, Val tried to punch at his arms to dislodge his forceful grip, but where his hits landed, a blaring white veneer leading from the collar to his fists encased his limbs that prevented him from striking Adam.

Adam's hold only tightened upon seeing Val's resilience but Val couldn't focus on it from the aggravation of being unable to harm even a hair on Adam's head. The collar didn't let him get even close, as though it shielded Adam with a bubble designed specifically to protect him from Val.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Val didn't remember exactly what happened, his mind whirling from the discordant haze of punches, kicks, slaps, shoves and Adam's hostile visage towering over him.

When he was done, Adam crouched next to the bleeding, bruised, panting moth slumped against the ground and turned Val onto his back.

Val rolled over limply, his arms flopping to his sides, exhausted. Everything hurt. Every part of his body blared with the agony of Adam's violence. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the pristine, white floor covered in pools of his blood.

He vaguely heard a scoff from Adam who said something Val didn't manage to hear. It was probably some insult about how pathetic he was, and when Val didn't even twitch in response Adam threw another angry punch to his face.

His neck cracked to the side. It did so again and again as Adam proceeded to land more and more punches. The last thing Valentino remembered seeing before passing out was his own red blood on a fist breaking up the vapid white consistency of his cell.

●

The second day came quicker than Val would have liked.

Adam extricated him out of the cage Val didn't remember entering, ignoring Valentino's whimpers as he forced him to move too quickly from yesterday's beating session, except this time, Adam immediately jumped to reciting. 

...they completed the whole bible from start to finish. It took hours. Fucking forever. And the exercise was greatly exacerbated by Val's slurred speech due to the pain of a purple, split lip. His knees ached and his back cramped and by the time they finished, Val's tongue tingled from overuse and mind-numbing boredom. 

Though, he supposed it was better than the alternative: the collar, and the thought was the only thing that kept him going. Still, no matter what Adam did it wasn't nearly as inexorable as the pain the collar was capable of. Val had a choice: pain or even worse pain. He didn't think Adam will just let him off without some kind of punishment - even though Val had done everything he was supposed to - and he was right.

Adam crooked his finger, calling Val forward who cautiously slid closer, fully aware that Adam will hurt him. But, whatever he had been imagining vanished into thin air when Adam procured an innocuous bowl of food. Val couldn't detect a particular smell despite his advanced senses and he dreaded to think what it consisted of. It looked like some sort of porridge. Alright - he thought. He's had worse.

Val waited for Adam to offer him the bowl but the angel merely took a spoonful of the food and told him "Open up."

Tamping down his humiliation, Val tilted his head and parted his mouth open - painstakingly aware of the last time Adam had barked at him to open his mouth before he had grazed his throat to the point of bleeding.

Adam raised the spoon, but inches away from Val's mouth he tipped it over, spilling the food onto the floor.

At Val's dither, he raised an eyebrow and with an evil smile said "Well, go on."

Val stared at him. He wished he could stare at him for the rest of eternity in the hope he might burn him with the hate of his gaze, but his stomach burned hotter with hunger and Val couldn't help it. He bowed low and let his tongue roll out.

The shame of licking the food straight from the floor as Adam loomed with voiceless derision above him clawed at his very soul, but he didn't stop. He couldn't. Satiating the hunger that had killed him over and over was too delightful. He barely sensed the bland, cloying taste.

When he finished, he sat back on his hunches and wiped his mouth.

Adam's lips tilted in a grimace. "I guess I've always wanted a dog."

Val made a mistake then.

"I'm not a dog..." he whispered.

Adam frowned. "What?" He sounded angry.

Val bristled. Adam was already too bloodthirsty while in a good mood, he was monstrous while in a bad one. Fuck, why did he have to talk back? He should withhold his pride from provoking Adam and just keep silent to let his body heal so he could escape when the time came.

"...I'm not a dog." Val repeated even quieter and he hated how his shoulders shrunk in on themselves.

He pointedly avoided Adam's gaze and the more Adam dragged on the agonizing tension the more Val wallowed in his stupidity. In the end, Adam didn't say anything, didn't strike or scorn him like Val had thought; instead, he calmly reached for another scoop before lifting it for Val to take.

As expected, the moment Val opened his mouth for it, Adam tipped the contents to the floor. Val tried not to let the odd sensation of disappointment and relief swamp him.

"Clean it." Adam bit.

Choosing to err on the side of caution, Val bent over and licked it clean again, his elongated tongue working with fluid prowess. He braced himself for an attack, but once more, Adam merely spilled another spoonful onto the ground and ordered him to eat it.

The next spoonful however landed on Adam's boot and even before he uttered the command, Val knew what he wanted him to do. He had to close his eyes this time to stave off the shame as he licked Adam's boot clean.

"Hands behind your back." Adam poked his arms and Val obeyed, shuffling for better balance as Adam dropped another piece of food onto the same spot.

On his knees, back bent, head bowed, hands removed, Val licked Adam's boot every time he ordered him to. His mouth felt dirty, his throat stained, his stomach contaminated in the most awful, nauseating way. He had lost count of how many spoonfuls had passed and when Adam tossed the latest one on the floor then promptly stepped on it, smearing it with his foot, Val decided it didn't matter.

For some reason, that was the part where his body decided it couldn't do it anymore. The embarrassment, the humiliation and the indignity turned his soul into stone and, oh, how heavy it was. It dragged him down, down down down into a bottomless sea of despair.

Having seen his reluctance, Adam coiled his fingers around Val's antenna and gripped, hard. Using the hold, he tugged Val's head to the floor until his face met the smudged, dirtied food.

Val didn't feel hungry anymore.

He didn't have a choice.

Adam didn't let him up until Val ate all of it.

Closing his eyes again, he disconnected his mind from what was happening, opting to let it drift somewhere faraway in a time destitute of this abuse.

Still holding his antenna, Adam said "You're collared, kneeling before my feet and eating straight from the floor." he craned Val's head, urging him to meet his gaze. "Tell me again how you're not a dog."

Val opened his mouth, the instinct to answer the command automatic before he caught himself, wondering when he had begun to obey so blindly. Unquestioning, just like God preferred his followers.

"You're not even a dog now that I think about it." Adam kept going. "At least, dogs are cute and loyal. You? You're a twisted, vile thing. I wouldn't pick you up from a shelter if they gave you away for free."

Again, Valentino tuned him out, consoling himself with the knowledge that there were thousands of sinners in hell who would pay a fortune for him. What an odd comfort that was, and an uncertain one too; with those nasty scars on his chest he doubted he would ever be as expensive again, maybe after a few dozen surgeries to get them removed, but still the mental injuries would remain.

"You're hardly worth the effort, anyway. Dogs can be trained-" he snapped his fingers. "Like that. I had to bust my ass with you for weeks and you're still trying to fucking argue." His voice dropped to a grizzly, irritated one and he rummaged in his pocket before drawing out a pair of pliers.

The urge to squirm away drilled in Val's bones but Adam only yanked him back by his antenna, keeping him in place. Briefly, he let go and before Val could even twitch to escape him Adam grabbed his jaw and pried his mouth open.

"You're worse than an animal. You're a slave." Adam's hold was unyielding as he pressed the pliers over Val's gold tooth.

Fear gripped him and he started to thrash to dislodge Adam's hand. After a few seconds of fighting, Adam bolted upright with a frustrated groan and used his whole body to push Val onto his back.

Adam's legs pressed Val's lower arms to the floor, flush and incapacitated against the cold marble, while his hands steadied Val's head.

"And slaves don't wear gold."

Val screamed and kicked and fought as his tooth was pulled from his skull. It wasn't even a real one, but Val has had it for so long the gold had habituated with the nerves and the agony was so excruciating he couldn't prevent his consciousness from slipping.

Later, as he lay curled up in his cage again, Val did his best to numb the pain by pressing his cheek to the cold metal. His hands unfortunately, were just as inflamed and he didn't know what pain to focus on anymore as he mourned the loss of his gold tooth, the one he had given himself to match with a certain ungrateful slut who had gotten his own tooth knocked out in a street fight.

He mourned the loss of the only thing that still tied him to Angel.

●

Thankfully, the tooth Lute had knocked out had regenerated, otherwise the itching of two teeth growing back in would have driven Val mad. As he waited for the days to roll by and sweep away the pain, Val thought of all the things that had passed in the last few weeks that he hadn't even thought of.

For one, the aforementioned tooth had reinstated itself. Secondly, and most horrifyingly, he hadn't even considered the nicotine withdrawal his body had suffered through. The torture had been so extreme he hadn't even felt it, or perhaps it had only added to the unbearable sensations the latex had already overwhelmed him with.

No matter. It was done now. It was over. Just like this imprisonment will end. What happened before, the begging and screaming and soul-crushing helplessness, was a onetime thing. He had simply fallen to a low point. Now that Adam had gotten his edge off it wouldn't happen again.

...it wouldn't.

Oddly, Adam was the only "visitor" Valentino had these days. He hasn't seen Lute since she helped hold him down as Adam raped him. For better or worse, he couldn't tell. Better, he decided eventually after hours upon hours of solitary confinement in the cage.

Adam liked to keep his visits unpredictable, but even if he had a consistent schedule Val wouldn't be able to tell the time since there was no sunlight or traffic or birds to indicate it. The food he gave him consisted of either leftover, half-eaten pizza crusts or some grotesque, bland protein shake to "help Val heal faster," a lie of sympathy veiling Adam's desire for Val to heal faster for no other reason than to hurt him more often. It did return some of the color to his skin and weight in his body, but any time Val grimaced at the taste Adam would remind him the food wasn't meant for him to enjoy so that it will help with his Gluttony. Lies. Lies after lies after more lies.

They both knew the redemption excuse was nothing more than a façade, but Adam seemed adamant on maintaining it. During one of their sessions together, Adam had dumped a bucket of rice on the floor and forced Val to kneel on it for hours. To further worsen the agony, he had ordered him to keep his arms up in a T position the entire time and while Val had an impressive, toned upper body, his muscles could endure only for so long when laden with hunger, thirst and lack of exercise. His knees stung and ached and his arms had been shaking like a leaf barely an hour in and every time they dropped closer toward the ground Adam would hit him with a steel baton, marking his ribs, chest, back and arms with fresh, black bruises, uncaring of the tears that streamed down Val's face and when he had chained his wrists with heavy manacles to weigh them down further Val couldn't keep his arms up anymore.

Adam had then proceeded to beat him until he painted him red with blood.

It had taken Valentino an eternity to even move his limbs after that. Unsurprisingly, the darkest, most gruesome wounds had been the ones on his knees.

The angel did however have a new practice he adored implementing: every time Valentino failed to recite a verse or answer a question correctly Adam will order him to roll out his tongue on top of the cage. Then, he will hit it with the baton.

And Val made mistakes often.

At one point, he had instinctively flinched away, his tongue so swollen and in pain he couldn't take another hit, and inadvertently let the baton crack against the bare metal. Adam had gotten so furious he had grabbed Valentino's arm, flattened it over the top of the cage, and had proceeded to break every single one of his fingers.

Left alone for days on end, clutching his shattered hand, Val didn't have much to occupy himself with. His other hands would occasionally trace the scars on his torso in the hope to find them disappearing, but they never did. Neither did the collar. Val made it a habit to tug and scratch it when Adam wasn't present. He never even managed to leave a dent or a scrape. Knowing it was there, touching his skin and unable to be removed, stung his very soul. As long as it encased his neck, he will never be able to leave and it didn't look as though anyone from outside was willing to help him.

...and that was the most painful thing of all. More painful than any of Adam's cutting words or brutal fists or sharp knives. Val didn't expect Vox and Velvette to blow up heaven looking for him - well... not anymore - but, as he lay crumpled in his cage, he prayed every day for a sign, a whisper, a message, anything to let him know they haven't given up on him. That they haven't forgotten him...

He missed them. It was hard for a man like him to admit that, but he did. Now, more than ever, and the exigent circumstances have made him realize just how reliant he had become on those two. How would they react if he did get back home? Would they welcome him with open arms? - unaware of the begging, desperate creature Adam knew him as. Or will they turn him away for being so weak that he had allowed himself to be someone's prisoner for more than a month?

He didn't know and it terrified him.

He could have reassured himself that he didn't need them, that he was a powerful and feared overlord with heaps of money like he always did after a fight with Vox... but, he can't do that anymore. He wasn't an overlord. He had no control over anyone, not even himself. And as the days of bible revisions and beatings and nights spent in the cage stretched his durability thinner, Val decided it was best to think of other scenarios.

Often, bored out of his mind with nothing to do but endure the newest injuries, he imagined himself in one of his clubs, surrounded by gorgeous demons of all kinds; those were always a sublime haven for stress relief. Pink smoke furled in the air above him as he entertained his guests with his valiant story of how he had escaped heaven. He detailed Adam's intentions and soaked in the horrified gasps; he spread a palm over his chest as he told everyone how he hadn't caved no matter what the angels had tried to do to him, how he had stayed brave and proud till the end and how he hadn't begged for mercy even once. 

They all gazed at him with wonder in their witless eyes, as though Valentino held the entire world in his words and this was their only chance to experience it. Velvette lounged on his shoulder - having wedged herself closest no matter how many bitches she had to elbow in the face - and rolled her eyes, mumbling something about how melodramatic he was, as always. Vox was probably in his tower, watching from his cameras like his creepy perverted ass liked to do. Val had feigned sympathy and shed glib tears after Vox had relayed how Angel had somehow died in a ditch somewhere despite what the spider had done. Because Val was such a good and forgiving person, naturally.

After Val finished with his gripping story, he told everyone what he had done to Adam and Lute's dead bodies and how no one should mess with him unless they wanted the same fate. Then, they all had one massive orgy and lived happily ever after. The end.

...but when the fantasy clears, and the dust settles, does he truly realize how completely alone he is. The incessant digging of cold, metal bars in his legs and arms only potentiated the crushing wave of loneliness, making him feel pathetic like he had never felt before.

He was alone. He was all alone in a foreign dimension with no allies or friends and with two people who credited his usefulness sorely to the pain they could inflict on him. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around how he had lost so much in such a short time. He had been invincible, terrifying. Now, he was little more than a punching bag for two idiots who he could have killed a thousand times over were it not for the collar.

He could hear His voice laughing at him. 

Did you really think you can be anything more than a simple whore?

Darling, you should have known better. Power is not for someone like you.

It was only a matter of time before you lost all of it. It's just your nature, baby. 

You never had it in you.

You were never good enough.

Worthless.

Weak.

Val massaged his temples, trying to dissipate the voices which kept driving in the more time he spent isolated. He had wondered his entire life why prisons punished their more rebellious, aggressive inmates with such a seemingly benign method of putting them in solitary confinement. He understood now. The quiet, the loneliness, the claustrophobia and Alejandro were all Valentino had these days.

If only you were still with me. I could have protected you. This would never have happened.

"Shut up." Val whispered.

You know it's the truth. They wouldn't have touched you if they knew you belonged to me.

"Shut the fuck up." Val hissed, gritting his teeth. If he had his glasses he could have at least focused on the details of his surroundings to distract himself, but all could see was muddy white.

He pressed a thumb against one of his bruises to ground himself. Alejandro couldn't have protected him from this. The man had been powerful - too powerful - but, he was a pragmatist. He saw the world through the cold, emotionless stare of a snake, always looking for the next hunt, always eyeing nearby predators, patient and waiting in the grass, and he wouldn't put himself in jeopardy to save a whore, even if it was his favorite one.

Val might have picked up some of Alejandro's methods to navigate hell's network, but he wasn't like him. Yes, they might be cutthroat and manipulative with their authoritarian presence, but where Alejandro was tenacious, Val was volatile. He knew this about himself, he didn't particularly care to fix it, he had to be, he had to use the skills he had learned in that whorehouse so he doesn't end up at the bottom of the barrel. If Alejandro had taught him anything, it was how lethal a simple sashay of hips, a toothy, adventurous smile and legs wrapped in delicate fishnets could be.

Perhaps, his ability to read people was what drew Alejandro to him more than his looks. He could never be the type of businessman Alejandro and Vox were, charming, respectable gentlemen in suits with smooth voices and even smoother wallets who paid a dime of attention to him and like a naïve, lovestruck teenager Val thought he could swindle them. Unlike with Alejandro, who Val associated himself with out of sheer ambition, with Vox he had actually let himself grow fond.

Maybe, he and Angel really were too similar. He wasn't stupid like Angel to actually fall in love with his pimp, but he was stupid in other ways. The more Val thought about it the more ashamed he got at how he had let Alejandro rope him into becoming a sex worker. Waitering had been alright, but when the lingering gazes grew in number Val's clothes had shed piece by piece in equal. When strutting scantily clad had led to a customer mistaking him for a stripper and dragging him into his lap, Val had decided maybe shifting from eye candy to arm candy wasn't so bad. When he got too good at stripping, everyone had practically been drooling over him and Alejandro had given him the option to pleasure one of the regulars. Of course, Val had first watched and learned before taking on a client, but with Alejandro's support, consistent praise, assurance that he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to, and above all his money, in just a few years Valentino had gone from a waiter to an expensive, desired prostitute.

He still didn't know how he had allowed it to happen. Each dollar reflected the future Valentino wanted to see, a future where his family was safe, where he was someone important, someone reliable, where he was the next Alejandro who ran a brothel better than Alejandro ever could; he had failed to see that future wafting further and further away. Val had lost his virginity to a client for fuck's sake, Alejandro had taken something significant from him that should be shared with a loved one and ruined it, and at the moment, blinded by dreams of success, he had simply been grateful for the promotion Alejandro had given him after his first time.

Of course, when Val had eventually collected his senses it had already been too late to leave.

As the detrimental thoughts swelled in his mind, the door suddenly creaked open and Val's newest captor meandered into the cell.

Val tensed, his body preparing itself for another several hours of misery, apprehension and agony. He couldn't tell what day it was, but his fingers and tongue hadn't fully recovered yet, and it plunged his courage into a pit of anguish. If Adam just gave him some time to heal, Val could face him more readily.

But, that mercy wasn't an option Adam wanted to give.

"Out." Adam swung the door of the cage open, his tone uncompromising.

Pushing down his dejection, Val shuffled out, ignoring the part of his brain imploring him to stay curled up inside where it was safe. Carefully cradling his injured arm, Val picked himself up into a kneeling position.

Adam flicked his hand and in his open palm a silver chain appeared, elongating like a vine towards Val's neck where it connected to his collar. How disenchanting; to watch a leash wrap around him after holding thousands like it for decades. He never thought he would be at the other end of one.

He hadn't even sold his soul. It had been taken from him, trapped under a ring of angelic divinity.

Adam tugged at the chain. "Come on." he said blithely.

Val followed. Another thing Adam forbid him from doing was standing up, unless of course it was explicitly ordered from him, but Adam mostly made him crawl on his hands and knees. Sometimes he would make him crawl in circles around the room over and over and if Val showed signs of flagging Adam would charge up the collar as a warning. He said it was intended to combat Val's Pride, but Val knew Adam just liked to assert his control and see him humiliated.

Adam dragged him to the bathtub, then he reached down and hoisted Val up by his collar.

Val choked and sputtered as Adam practically threw him into the tub. Just Valentino's luck to be captured by the leader of an army of angels, one of the few people capable of lifting his size. He hissed as the fall jostled his injuries.

Adam turned the faucet on, soaking Val in cold water. In a few minutes the tub was full with water and a shivering moth. Bubbles sprung to the surface as Adam mixed some soap in.

Silence rose. Val didn't dare say anything. He simply sat frozen in the tub, waiting to see what Adam will do. Caught off guard, Val bristled when Adam took one of his wings in his hands and just like that, the vulnerability squeezed his paranoia into fear.

He waited for Adam to rip or crush his wing, but it never came. Instead, the angel hooked a hand under the chain restraining it and began to unwrap it.

Val gasped as the chain was removed, his wing liberated and able to stretch for the first time in weeks. Blood soared into the tender flesh and, feeling bold, he extended it a little.

The breath of relief he released got broken when Adam sniped "You're not allowed to cover yourself with them."

It hadn't even been on Val's mind to blanket himself, but the order still ignited his rage. Clenching his teeth - which, thank god, had regenerated by now - he forced himself to remain docile as Adam unchained the other wing.

After chucking the second chain aside, Adam brushed his hand over Val's wings the way tourists dreamed of feeling up ageless art: pawing something they shouldn't. Val must have subconsciously leaned forward to evade Adam's touch because Adam suddenly yanked him back by the leash, straightening his spine like a rod.

"Pretty." he commented. "How come you get such pretty wings while other fuckers are so ugly?"

Valentino had learned most of Adam's questions weren't rhetorical. "I don't know, master."

Adam huffed, but otherwise didn't say anything. He simply picked up a sponge and began to scrub the canvas of one wing. His movements were gentle and slow and if the circumstances were any different, the scene would have been calm, intimate.

Caring.

Adam's fingers impishly tapped at the base, playing with the sensitive, ticklish fuzz and he chuckled when Val shivered, wings fluttering.

Blood seeped into the water below as the sponge dampened Val's fluff with smooth, tangy soap, something Val hadn't felt for an embarrassingly long time. He was due in need of a bath. So far, the cage only opened for him to relieve himself for a maximum of around fifteen minutes before the collar started to heat up, a fact he had painfully found out the first time he had lingered too long outside.

Ignoring the silence, Valentino brought his knees closer and wrapped his arms around them. He tried savoring the wavy feel of water around him and the temporary peace that came from lack of violence, and oddly, Adam's soft touch.

Val hadn't been touched in so long, hadn't been held, hadn't been kissed that even Adam's gentleness was irresistible. Being caressed by the hands that beat, assault and violate him every day felt intoxicating. It felt good. He felt disgusting. It was awful. He needed it.

Adam's fingers patiently untangled the fluff around Val's neck, cleaning the matted grime, sweat and blood. "I've been thinking," that never ended well. "Did we ever cross paths down in hell?"

Val grimaced.

"I mean, I've been doing that shit for a long time - killing demons - and you've definitely heard of me. To think, I could have killed you."

He didn't know what to answer to that.

"Some other nasty schmuck would have taken your place and you would have been... I don't know, dead, gone. You tell me, you were the one dying for two weeks straight."

Water dripped down his form and he prevented himself from groaning when Adam began to brush his back, callous with Val's wounds.

"Well, tell me." Adam demanded and somehow his voice was still soft. "What's it like? Dying?"

Val thought for a moment, deliberating on the best way to phrase his sentence so Adam's fastidious ass doesn't get nettled.

"Dark." he said eventually, equally as quiet.

Adam paused for a moment before continuing to clean him. "Sounds boring."

That's your future Val prevented himself from spitting.  He knew very well that this service from Adam wasn't out of generosity, it was to advertise his control, to let Val know he could grope him however and wherever he wanted and that he should be grateful Adam was treating him so well.

"Here," he handed Val a towel. "You gonna get to work or should I do everything? These wings are fucking massive, you know."

Val quickly accepted the towel and began to clean his legs. He took care of his private parts himself, not wanting Adam to touch him there again. The water was now dark red as he brushed his skin absentmindedly, almost featherlight to avoid aggravating the numerous wounds that covered almost every inch, but he was swiftly brought back to the present when he felt something soft graze his shoulder.

He could never mistake the feeling of plush lips against bare skin and warm, fragile breaths skipping over his collarbone. 

His body subconsciously tensed up and he craned his neck to look at Adam. Immediately, he felt the sensation lift from his shoulder and saw Adam innocently concentrated on cleaning his wings.

He turned around and bit his cheek. "I know what you want." he said, more audacious than anything he's said in the last few days.

"Oh," Adam resumed carding through the fluff. "And what's that?"

Valentino's lips twitched into a knowing, lopsided grin and he shook his head. "Just get it over with. I know you want to."

Adam's hands stilled.

Val cursed inwardly. What the fuck was he doing? 

"Get what over with?" he prodded, clipped.

He was baiting him, egging him to say what they both knew but wouldn't admit.

"...Just fuck me yourself already."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Val felt a dense, suffocating cloud of suspense drench the room. He hasn't been so straightforward with Adam, not even when he had molested the angel before trying to kill him. Adam had ruined him after he did that. He didn't know what he will do now and it terrified him.

Adam huffed behind him. "Don't be gross. You're a demon, and worse, a man. I wouldn't stick my dick in you if-"

"Oh, stop, pendejo." Val moaned exasperated. "Stop lying, it's a sin, remember?" he smiled at his own mocking rebuttal. "You can keep me here. You can beat me, torture me, do whatever you want, but you can't lie to me."

He must have stumped Adam for he didn't cut him off. Val took that as his sign to continue; he might not get the chance to say what needed to be said again.

"You might have control for now, but that won't last. Someday you will die. I don't know when, where or how, but you will, and it will be by my hands." His arms were shaking and he dropped them under the water, steadying his breath with a long, deep exhale before he scowled in an embittered, low voice "I will... kill you. I will make you pay for everything you've done to me a thousand times worse and you can punish me for saying this - make yourself feel strong if it helps you feel better about your miserable, useless life because you will never be anything more than a vain, insecure bitch who can't grow out of his attention-whore phase. Dios mío, you couldn't even keep a wife as the only man on earth. Pathetic. I'd think you're just terrible at pleasing a woman, but your attitude is so fucking insufferable no dick size in existence can compensate for it. But, I promise you, I will kill you. I will take you back with me to hell where you belong."

...

...

...

...

Silence.

Silence was all Valentino was met with after his bold admission. Gelid, boiling silence that sunk into his very bones and instilled horror in them. The urge to run vibrated through his body as strongly as the fear of moving a muscle.

After what felt like an eternity, Adam sighed, leaning away from him.

"...I've been too nice to you, haven't I?"

None of the rage and defensiveness rippled from Adam's tone. He almost sounded... impartial. 

"Shame." A louder, longer sigh left him. "I told Lute we shouldn't be giving you all those nutrients. Now, look what happened. You got cocky."

Lute... had vied for him?

He didn't know what to think about that, but the musings were snatched from his control when Adam sharply pulled him back by his leash. Before Val could so much as blink, the angel grabbed Val's healthy antenna at the same time he pulled a knife from his pocket and when he settled the blade at the base of the antenna all rational thoughts evaporated from Val's mind.

Panic seized him. His hands scrabbled for the blade, trying to pry it out of Adam's grasp as his breathing picked up. "Don't." he rasped, alarmed and shocked.

"I've been reading up on moths lately and did you know that if you cut off their antennae they won't be able to smell, fly or navigate?"

"Uh..!" Val stuttered, Adam's calmness and the knowledge of where this was heading freezing him in place. "Yes! I- I need them!"

The blade dug deeper into the stem and Val's heart picked up its pace to a painful degree. "You're already missing one and you're nearly blind too. Talk about bad luck," Adam noted, impossibly pacific. "I wonder what will happen if you lose the other."

The only sound to pierce the air were Val's petrified gasps as Adam prolonged the tension by keeping the blade pressed to the antenna.

"...Nah," he abruptly let go and Val practically lunged forward. "No point in getting rid of a perfectly good handle."

The edges of the tub creaked under Val's herculean grip as he held onto it with all his might. He knew Adam had utter and complete control over his body but it hadn't truly clicked until now. He didn't know what he would do if he lost the other antenna; the only sensations he would be left to rely on would be touch, taste and hearing and the daunting prospect sent undulating waves of dread through him.

"But, ignoring your unacceptable behavior, you were right about one thing."

Val wanted to jump out of the tub.

"I do have to punish you now."

Before Adam could blink, Val swept his wing through the water, soaking Adam from head to toe, before grabbing the leash to yank it from Adam's grasp.

Adam yelped, covering his face, but his instincts were too fast and noticing the chain slipping he instantly tightened his hands around it.

Mustering all the energy he had left, Val swung the chain like a lasso and hooked it around Adam's neck. He pulled, leveraging his whole body backwards so that Adam fell in the tub.

Adam's eyes widened and he barely caught himself over the edges of the tub. His other hand drifted to the chain and he quickly shrugged it off before Val had a chance to dunk his head under the water. When he raised his gaze to look at Val, all Val could see was pure, undiluted wrath.

Adam lifted his hand and clenched his fist.

Val dropped to his knees in the tub as the collar began to sear his neck. His scream pierced the room but it was swiftly cut off when Adam grabbed him by his chest fluff and pushed him under the water.

He flailed as his breathing was cut off. Bloodied, dirty water entered his nose, ears, eyes and mouth as he fought against the grip keeping him under. His legs kicked out, his body thrashed, his throat burned from the soap as he clawed at Adam's arms in vain.

Finally, when Val felt his lungs getting ready to succumb to the pressure, Adam harshly hoisted him up. Val coughed the water out of his throat, desperately heaving in air as Adam held him by his fluff, their faces inches apart.

"You're fucking insane!" the angel roared at him. "I decide to give you a bath and this is how you repay me!"

Furious, Adam plunged Val back in before he had the chance to say anything. He started to panic again. His drowning body begged to be released and more and more terror infused him the more Adam held him under.

Once more, he let him go just before the fire in Val's lungs got ready to welcome the water. "Wait-! he screamed, choking and hoarse.

Adam didn't wait. He dropped Val in the water again. This time he let him up much faster, but the feeling of suffocation was equally as debilitating nonetheless.

He allowed him to cling onto his arms as he found his breath. Adam was seething above him, his breathing just as heavy and when he spoke his voice was full of scorn. "You want to get fucked so badly?" he shook Val to regain his attention. "Fine."

With abnormal strength, Adam wrestled Valentino out of the tub, ignoring his grunts of pain, and dragged him across the room before violently throwing him over the cage.

Val crashed on top with a shout, fingers grappling for purchase in the metal bars. Bent over in a kneeling position, Adam grabbed his neck above the collar and pinned his body flush against the cage. His breath stuttered when Adam kicked his knees apart.

Both of their bodies flattened together, wet and dripping, the sound of water pattering on the ground like a ticking time bomb. He tried to push against the grip holding him down, but Adam was unyielding and he squinted as the metal dug into his cheek. However, his gut churned with panic when he felt Adam's clothed hips press against his bare ass.

"I should have known a little bit of rape wouldn't be enough to train a depraved whore like you," Adam said as the sound of a belt unbuckling sounded.

Val's lower hands instinctively went to push him away as his upper ones tried to claw at the hand holding him in place. Adam groaned, exasperated, then snapped his fingers and, in a flash, steel manacles encased all of Val's wrists and locked them to the far sides of the cage, spreading his arms wide.

Unobstructed, Adam lifted his robe up. "Remember," Adam lowered himself to Val's ear and whispered. "You asked for this."

He aligned himself with Val's entrance and, without warning, pushed into him.

Val's entire body tensed up, his hips bumping into the cage as he leaned to get away but he couldn't. Adam had him thoroughly trapped and the noises of discomfort echoing from Val easily transformed into wails of pain as Adam drove in deeper and deeper.

The tears from the last time hadn't fully healed and it caused Val to writhe, his chains clanking, as Adam reopened them again, grazing his walls and stretching him. His dick wasn't nearly as big as the toy had been, but it was bigger than most and it hurt so much. 

When Adam finally inserted himself to the base, Val was shaking and gripping onto the cage for dear life. "Shit, that feels so good." A delighted exhale left Adam and after a few moments of basking in the warmth of Val's body, Adam gripped Val's hip and pulled out.

Slowly, he dug himself back in and neither the blood leaking down Val's thighs nor Val's cries of pain stopped Adam from picking up a steady rhythm.

"S-stop-" Val keened, overwhelmed and devastated.

"Hell, no," Adam said in-between grunts as he rammed into Val with lost fervor. "You wanted my cock? You're getting it."

Val buried his face in the cage. The shackles progressively sliced his skin, but he couldn't stop tugging at them. Everything hurt, every thrust extracted cries of distress from him, the pain spreading through his entire nervous system and lighting it on fire. 

Minutes passed in that cloud of agony, Adam's breaths of pleasure tumbling above him and mixing with Val's whimpers. The water clamming his body had dried up as bruises gradually spread on his hips where Adam's fingers squeezed roughly.

"Thank me." Adam suddenly gasped, breathy. 

The command was so abrupt Val didn't answer, partly because of the shock and partly because his voice was lodged in his throat and if he unleashed it then only sounds of desolation will escape.

"I'm giving you what you asked for. So, thank me."

After he received no answer, Adam thrust into Val so hard he saw stars in his vision and the wretched scream that tore out of him rung through the room.

"Thank you," Val tersely answered. "...master."

Adam moaned. His movements sped up, hips ringing with the slapping of skin on skin. Val's dick barely twitched; Adam wasn't interested in satisfying him, that's not what Val was here for. He was here to be fucked and hit and used for someone else's fun.

It just went on and on and on. Did fucking always take this long?

At some point, Adam's moans became lewd, loud noises of pleasure and his thrusts grew quicker, sloppy as he focused on chasing his climax. As he did, Val kept his face pressed against the cage, doing his best to take the abuse without breaking as tears cascaded down his face and squeaks chimed from his throat.

"S-" Adam stammered, his voice pitched and needy. "Say... ngh... say my name."

He moved with frantic desperation, getting closer and closer and the force of his thrusts reached an unbearable degree when Val didn't answer.

"Say it!" Adam snapped.

Val's cries rose in volume and he finally gave in. "Master!" he yelled out, his voice brittle and splintered. "Master..!"

"Oh, fuck!" Adam came with a drawn out groan, burying himself deep in Valentino and spilling hot, translucent ropes in him. He draped his heaving body over Val's back and rested there for a minute, uncaring of the discomfort of the demon beneath him.

The entire cage rattled from Val's shaking body and he sharply inhaled when Adam finally lifted his weight off.

Val nearly growled from frustration when Adam scooped up one of his wings and used it to clean the blood and cum from his dick before dropping it. After pulling his pants back up, Adam snapped his fingers and the restraints holding Valentino vanished.

Val slumped to the ground, trembling and leaning heavily on the cage for support. Blood pooled between his legs and onto the floor, laced with streaks of white which made Val nearly throw up just by looking at them.

He sat mute, staring at the mess on his lower region as Adam paced back and forth a few feet away, the silence of what had happened falling like a snowstorm between them. Had it been a spur of the moment? A spontaneous decision on Adam's part? Or had it been a long time coming where Adam's restraint had finally snapped?

Both, probably. Definitely, judging by how much he had ripped Val's insides. Again.

Adam's pacing needled Val into madness. The angel seemed lost, zoned out, but it was better than having Adam's attention on him. As if the universe was set out to spite him, Adam stopped and turned towards him.

"Okay," he said uncertainly, taking measured steps in Val's direction and with every one Val pressed himself against the cage, having nowhere to flee. "That was... fun."

Val tilted his head to look up at him, eyes puffy and red, cheeks stained with tears and lips drooling pink saliva. The picture of misery no doubt.

Adam covered his mouth with his hand for a few seconds before addressing Val in a serious tone. "You're not gonna tell Lute about this." It wasn't a question.

Val just stared blankly, monotone. "Yes, sir."

Adam pulled a face. "What? Didn't you like it?" he raised his hands incredulously. "I did that for you? Not for me. I'm not into guys or... or fucking them. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it." he said softly, faux consideration incapable of hiding the malicious intent dragging his insecurities along.

Val knew what he was doing. Adam knew what he was doing. But, still. Val couldn't tell him he enjoyed it.

They stared at each other in quiet, rigid restlessness before Val lowered his gaze, unable to look at Adam.

A second later, Adam crouched to his level and Val flinched away when Adam went to touch his face. The angel wasn't dissuaded by that reaction however as he slid his hand under Val's chin and gently turned his face back toward him. Adam wanted Val to meet his eyes, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. He wanted Adam to leave so he could get some rest.

"Was I good for you, master?" he asked.

Adam recoiled back a few inches, caught off surprise. "Uh, well, I..." he tripped over his words.

"Did it make you feel powerful like you wanted?" Val widened the wound further, fully aware of how he was pulling the carpet of control from beneath Adam's feet.

Adam blinked, clearly not expecting Val's composure. "Y-Yeah..?"

Val smiled then bowed his head, subservient. "I won't tell anyone about you." he promised sweetly.

Adam removed his hand. "What?" He sounded genuinely confused.

Val tilted his head coyly and leveled the most innocent look he could at Adam. "About your... preferences."

"What do you mean preferences? This is..." he scoffed with an insincere laugh. "That wasn't... what are you talking about?"

Fucking idiot.

Val kept his expression inscrutable, blasé. "...that you're gay."

The sheer revulsion that overtook Adam's face was priceless. He stood up, backing away from Val as though he could burn him just by touch. "Wooah!" he raised his hands placatingly. "You are wayyy out of line pal! That wasn't-! I'm not... Hey, I'm not like you! Ew! Fuck! Why did you say that?!"

Val clasped his hands in front of him, doing his best to seem guileless and honest. "I just... well, I understand it will be difficult for her to hear, but I won't tell."

Adam's brows could have reached the ceiling from how high they rose. "What?!" he shouted, genuine panic and bewilderment blazing from his voice. "What the fuck does that mean?! Who's she?! What are you talking about?!"

Val aimed his gaze at the floor, shrinking in on himself with fake guilt. "I'm sorry, sir, I thought you knew about my other master."

Adam put his hands on his hips, looking as though he could explode from frustration alone. "Know what?"

When Val answered, he looked directly into Adam's eyes. "That she's in love with you."

For a moment, they just stared at each other, mindless, jittery and stymied. Adam's eyes were fixed on the floor, the hurricane of thought processes whirling in his brain.

Well... Val might not be able to harm Adam physically, but there were other ways of hurting someone.

Val allowed himself a small smile. In truth, he didn't know if Lute had any feelings for Adam, but he knew about the more personal desires she didn't want anyone knowing. It would be difficult for anyone who got off on pain, torture and dominance not to at least admire their boss who craved it in equal measure, besides Adam was most likely bi but Val had no intention on educating him. He and Lute were both in the same pot of sadism, they liberated each other, except it seemed Adam was too stupid to see it.

Or perhaps he wasn't, judging by what he said next.

The angel rubbed his face before saying in a measured, dark tone "You had to ruin it, didn't you?"

Val's brows creased in confusion and he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. He had pulled every card he could and it still felt lacking.

Adam shook his head vehemently and huffed a laugh that did not reach his eyes. "Fuck, you nasty piece of shit. You just had to ruin it. Lute... she's not... Ugh! It wasn't your secret to tell!"

Good, Val thought. It was about time he took something from Adam. But, that consolation was immediately snatched from him when Adam squeezed his fist and activated the collar.

Val's hands shot to his neck to alleviate the burn, but it kept increasing. "Wait!" he yelled put before the pain rose so high he doubled over, thrashing onto the floor.

"Did you really think I'm stupid enough that I can't see what you're trying to pull?" he snarled stepping toward Val's writhing form.

His entire neck screamed with agony, fire licking up his temples, simmering in his chest, melting his arms as scream after scream tore from his throat. Subverting Adam's wiles hadn't been the smartest decision, but he didn't regret what he said. This would have happened anyway, but at least he hadn't been so weak to fear it this time.

When Adam finally let up on the collar, Val was panting and crying on the floor. The room spun out of focus, his surroundings swirling like a turbulent river. Vaguely, he could see a blurry figure looming over him.

"Touch yourself." Adam's muffled voice ordered.

A crazed laugh barked out of Valentino. "You are gay!"

"No, I'm not! Shut up!"

Adam clenched his fist again, plunging Valentino in another wave of unfettered pain. This time, he released him sooner but it still felt like the agony dragged on for hours.

Maybe, if he kept calling this repressed asshole gay he might leave him alone. But, his voice was gone, all he could do was heave and spasm on the ground and he barely noticed Adam hovering over him until the angel grabbed his arm.

"Get up." he hissed like scolding a dog after it had eaten too much furniture, and yanked Valentino into a sitting position.

Val followed the tugging and pulling, not knowing which way was up or down. After a gangly untangling of limbs, Adam maneuvered Valentino on his knees. The leash hung loosely from his neck and Val shook his head, the blood-loss and shock from the collar had sent his vision spiraling.

Fingers found their way to his jaw and his head was suddenly nudged back. He groaned as another headache struck his temples, but the breaths near his ear worried him more. Adam was so close and the realization grounded him to the present.

One of Adam's hands held his head back while the other found its way to Val's hand. He clasped his wrist and guided it to Val's crotch. Val went to look at what Adam was doing but a sharp yank pulled him back, forcing him to gaze at the ceiling. He understood what Adam wanted when he wrapped Val's hand over his own dick.

"Get on with it." Adam insisted. "I am not getting off on this. I'm doing it to help redeem your selfish, stuck-up ass. It's why you're gonna do it your-fucking-self this time. I'm done with you." 

Adam still didn't let go of him; he released Val's hand and cupped his hip, balancing Val so he wouldn't tip to the side, and for some reason it was all Val could focus on. He didn't want those hands on his hips and neck. He didn't want Adam touching him. He didn't want Adam so close. He didn't want Adam inside him. He didn't want to be naked while Adam was still fully clothed. He didn't want to get himself off while Adam watched. He didn't want it! He didn't want any of it!

You asked for this, Adam's voice spoke in his head and Val had to close his eyes to stave it off because he couldn't handle how true it was. He had asked for this. He had told Adam to fuck him and Adam did. What the fuck had he been thinking?!

He didn't realize he had gone stoic until Adam lightly smacked his rear, urging him to get on with it. Val gulped, after a moment he took his dick in his hand and started steady movements up and down the length.

He didn't understand how this made Adam feel less queer, but in that weird mind of his it must make sense. Val didn't care, he just wanted to get it over with. He did his best to ignore the warm hands on his body and instead focused on his own ministrations, letting his mind levitate, set itself afloat, as his hand pumped and squeezed at exactly the right time and right places Val liked.

Airy breaths fell from his lips as heat started to spread in his gut. He reached between his legs and slicked his hand with his own blood for an easier, smoother glide, smearing his cock red. His skin became clammy, sweat beaded at his back and forehead, moans threatened to rise from his throat.

It didn't feel good. It felt good down there, sure, but the entire thing made Val want to get swallowed by the ground. The waves of pleasure that kept growing as his pace quickened coursed like poison through him, heightening his addiction for more.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head on Adam's shoulder, no longer fighting the noises of delight straining to be released. His dick was throbbing and hard, leaking precum onto the floor and his hand. Yet, somewhere at the back of his mind, Val could still feel Adam's hands on him, possessive and watchful, fingertips brushing the barest, imperceptible inch through Val's fur, and it turned his entire mood sour.

He picked up speed, tightening his fist to get this over with quicker and he moaned, loud and vulgar, when a particularly good slide sent flaming sparks in that dense knot curling his gut.

He must have been squirming in Adam's hold because the angel complained "Hurry up." gruff and abrasive before suddenly pushing Val forward.

With one hand occupied and one broken Val barely managed to catch himself on his two remaining palms. He ignored Adam with a roll of his eyes and resumed pleasuring himself.

Adam shuffled behind him and a brief flash illuminated the surrounding before disappearing and when Val turned to look through half-lidded, drunken eyes he saw Adam holding a dildo, except the reflection of the light felt wrong. Val blinked to sharpen his gaze and when he realized Adam had conjured it from pure angelic steel, he jumped forward.

Adam caught him by his lower arm and roughly pulled him back. "Where do you think you're going?" he noticed Val distrustfully eyeing the toy and he smiled. His grip tightened, keeping Val in place, as he prodded at Val's hole before slowly pushing it inside.

If he hadn't stretched Val beforehand, the toy would have ripped him anew and Val whined in pain as the divine energy of the steel met the open wounds inside him. It burned, it wasn't the usual burn that accompanied an intrusion like this but a sickening, unnatural burn.

"Stop!" he screamed, kicking back and clawing at the ground to get away, but Adam held firm. "S-stop! It hurts!"

It felt wrong. The metal shouldn't be anywhere near such a vulnerable spot but Val couldn't do anything but keen and groan and howl and weakly slap at Adam's hands as the divinity seeped into him like poison.

After Adam inserted the whole thing, he bent over and whispered "Good." Acrid venom dripped from his tone as though hatred itself was concentrated in it.

Val's legs shook and his chest stuttered as he panted for breath, trying to calm his frantic heart. Unfortunately, Adam didn't give him time to acclimate himself to the insidious sensations as he began to thrust the toy in and out.

Each slide and pull sent a fresh dose of that angelic poison through his body and Val wanted to scream. Adam redirected Val's hand back to his dick, a clear indicator to resume what he had been doing.

Val decided that was a good moment to swathe himself in the darkness of his eyelids and let himself get swept away. His arm worked on autopilot, performing movements he has done countless times before sorely on muscle memory as the angel wrecked him from behind.

...it didn't take long for Adam to find that sweet, delicious spot deep inside and when he did the pain gradually fused with unwanted bliss.

Val arched his back, settling on his elbows as his muscles tensed like crazy. The stimulation on his cock and prostate sent torrid roils of pleasure washing over him; his nervous system floated on a fuzzy cloud and he bit his lip to stifle the noises as they worked in tandem to lead Val over the edge.

He was getting close, each stroke and thrust setting his body alight and he barely noticed the collar heating up until it had reached a scorching degree.

His hand stopped as his eyes shot open in terror. The heat of the collar didn't stop rising and Val bolted up in a panic to grasp at it.

A hand at his nape stopped him and pushed him back down. "Did you seriously forget what I said about coming?"

A horrified gasp left Val. "But, you said-"

"Yeah, I did." Adam's hold tightened, keeping Val's face pressed against the floor. "I also said not to badmouth your masters but you went and did that anyway."

Val scrabbled against the ground, torn between running and finishing the job, but whatever option he chose the collar will set off. It will set off. It will set off. It will set off!

The inevitability of it ignited his adrenaline, whirling his fight or flight instincts in a frenzy and he didn't know what his body was doing. Somehow he ended up under Adam as the angel fought to pin him down. Adam still didn't let up, forcing himself between Val's legs and holding him still by his neck. His harsh grip paled in comparison to the fire of the collar and Val felt tears stream from his eyes as the helplessness burrowed in his heart.

"Stop..!" he thumped at Adam's arm, too enervated to shove him off. "Please! Stop!"

Adam didn't. He kept going, pushing Val beyond his limits, hitting his prostrate repeatedly in a merciless pace, adding fuel to the flames building in Val's gut and Val felt his body finally escape his control as the orgasm was forcibly drawn from him.

As he disobeyed Adam's orders, the collar triggered, lighting Val's entire form on fire as the divinity tore at his soul. From somewhere far away, Val screamed his lungs hoarse, the pain dragging on for maximum torment and when it grew too much Val slipped away, letting his mind dive into the darkness it already knew too well.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck do you mean you're calling it off?!" Vox snarled into the telephone.

A sigh resounded from the other side. "Look, we tried contacting heaven and it..." the princess' girlfriend, Vaggie, paused. "It was a bust. Even if we wanted to help we can't really do anything."

"So, you're jumping ship?" Vox hoped his disappointment whittled from his curt tone. "I seem to remember this was a collective problem."

"Yeah, it is, but we don't really have any other options." 

Vox could sense her tolerance waning. It seemed the only thing tethering her to the conversation was the need to permanently conclude whatever brief alliance they had agreed on.

"And your first instinct is to give up? No wonder that hotel of yours is failing."

"Hey," she chided. "If you really have to know, guests are starting to roll in, so we don't exactly have time to fish parachutes out of the sky."

Vox pinched the space between his eyebrows, closing his eyes and pointedly ignoring the new package heaven had dropped sitting idly on his desk. They had forfeited the drone delivery system, opting instead to deliver their messages via parachutes that couldn't be traced back to them. It seemed they had learned their lesson.

The gold tooth sitting atop the pile of new tapes gleamed in the blue light of Vox’s office that almost made the blood splattered over it appear violet - Val's blood.

"Tell me, angel," he spoke in his phone, low and meaningful. "You are committed to the princess' dreams, aren't you?"

There was another pause at the other end, before Vaggie skeptically said "Yeah. Of course."

"And you would do whatever you can to make them come true, yes?"

"Get to the point."

Vox prevented himself from gauging his desk. "It's just that I find it odd that you would let her hotel be slandered and dragged through the mud on every news channel and review site there is."

Her breathing was all Vox could hear for a few seconds. "You already tried those threats before."

"Yes, yes, I did. This time I will be sure to execute them." he promised in a voice that would make any of his employees rip their own heads off to avoid his wrath. "And sweetheart believe me when I say, I will make sure you never get a single demon to even touch your front doors."

He was exhausted. He was tired and at wits end with all of his options drained. He had no way of reaching heaven, no way of contacting Valentino, no way of helping ease the torture he undergoes every single goddamn day while Vox is safe and comfortable in the tower they shared.

The blood on the tooth invaded his mind as he waited for the angel's response.

"...you-" she broke off, mumbling something in Spanish. "Look, there's nothing we can do. Just drop it. If you don't... I guess we'll have to handle you the way we handled the last extermination."

The warning didn't pass by Vox, but he couldn't focus on it.

Drop it.

Drop it...

Her words lodged themselves in Vox's mind, setting alight the poorly stamped down rage simmering in him for the last one month, three weeks, four days, twelve hours, twenty five minutes and fifty six seconds since Valentino had been taken, never letting Vox rest for a moment.

How she dedicated herself to her partner while demanding Vox give up on his he couldn't compute. He would never drop it. He can't. He won't.

He will not give up on Valentino.

"It's so easy for you, isn't it?" he couldn't prevent his smile from stretching and by the silence on the other end he knew Vaggie had sensed it too. "To pretend, to preach about kindness and justice even when no one is listening, but deep down you are just the same as everyone else you consider lesser." he spoke slowly, inconsiderate of her feelings. "You don't care what happens to the demons you call your future guests, but you will pretend to be better if it helps you sleep at night. And when the occasion calls for you to actual prove the virtues you purvey you do nothing. At the end of the day you're still the exorcist murdering thousands of demons."

Haunting silence was all he was met with. Scrunching his brows, he checked his phone to see if the girl had hung up on him, but she was still there.

Finally, in a raspy voice, she muttered "Fuck you, man. Whatever's happening to him, he deserves it. And so do you."

Vox straightened up, a cutting counter building in him before realization dawned on him. "So, you still don't know what happened. You haven't seen the tape." he said matter-of-factly.

"No..? That's your business."

He had misjudged Angel Dust, for better or worse.

Vox tapped his fingers on the desk, letting each metallic click ring to still his frustration. "So... I presume it wouldn't be very beneficial for your hotel if the princess cancels the entire thing when she sees the tapes?"

"Why would she do that?" 

She really doesn't know. None of them have any idea what's on those tapes. Vox would have thought the short audio he had played to guilt-trip Sera would have been enough to rouse their contrition, but it seemed not. Caught at a standstill, Vox evaluated his options. He could threaten to expose Valentino's most vulnerable moments to their enemies, or risk losing him forever.

"Because I will personally inform her of what her actions have resulted in. Or is her good heart not that pure to stop someone's pain for the sake of her ambitions?"

"Now, listen here," she hissed, half yelling and half whispering as though she didn't want anyone catching whiff of their conversation. "Charlie doesn't know what's happening - at least, she doesn't know the details. And she won't."

"But, you've heard about it?" Vox whirled around, fingers grappling at empty air as he started pacing back and forth. "You know what happened and all you have to say is he deserved it?!" he couldn't bite back the scorn this time, his screen glitching as he caught on to Angel's motives: the spider didn't want to bare the weight of knowing what Valentino was going through, but he lacked the benevolence to inform Charlie about it. And they had the gall to call Vox selfish...

"I'm not-" she stuttered, her voice guilt-ridden. "I'm not saying... he deserves that. But, we have bigger problems to deal with now - demons who actually want to try and be better people."

"I don't see you trying. You're not exactly setting up a good example."

"Who do you think you're trying to convince here? You do realize who we're talking about?" Vaggie finally snapped, the volume of her voice rising. "You're asking us to risk our lives for the gilipollas that exploited Angel and threw Charlie out of his studio for trying to intervene."

"She shouldn't have intervened, then. It's called consequences."

"Go fuck yourself." she cursed, crass and pissed off. "These are your consequences, not ours. If you were better people this wouldn't have happened to you. It's not our fault or responsibility."

"So, that's it?" Vox pushed, nearing his boiling point. "You're giving up? What happens when heaven pops out another contract for you to sign? Will you sacrifice more of us? And when they've snatched up every last demon and there's no one to even glance at your hotel will it finally be enough?"

"It... it won't come to that. Charlie is working harder than ever to prove redemption is possible."

"And if it's not?"

"It is. It's possible we just need time." 

"Well," Vox crushed the edge of his desk in his palm, ignoring the metal shards that clattered lamely to the floor. "While you're figuring it out, the person you sent up there is getting tortured every second you waste."

"Dude," she groaned. "What part of there's nothing we can do that you don't get?"

Vox opened his mouth, ready to spew another caustic retort, but nothing came out. He closed his eyes again and loosened his fist, unwilling to admit that Vaggie was completely right. He had hurled every card up his sleeve, every threat and manipulation tactic he knew, but he didn't want to let them go, they were the last chance and the last ally he had to get Val back.

She noticed his tongue-tied state because her voice eased its barbed edge. "For what it's worth, I... hope you find him."

An electric spark zapped down his frame when he realized she was going to terminate the call. "Wait-"

"Goodbye."

"No! Wait!" he shouted into his phone. "Don't!"

She hung up.

"Fuck!" he chucked the phone and slammed his hands down on the desk.

The sound rattled throughout his office as the phone fell in the aquarium and he watched, frozen and breathing heavily, as one of his sharks lunged at it, clearing it from sight with lightning speed.

He exhaled, running a hand down his face. "Fuck..." he trailed off when his gaze landed on the fallen box of tapes on the floor. The sight elicited a wince from him and he shuffled over to tentatively pick up the contents. The plastic burned his hands with the knowledge that Adam and Lute had probably touched these very tapes themselves, tapes that held more footage of Val's torture.

A sharp pang struck his heart and he halted when he saw Val's gold tooth lying haphazardly a short distance away. With the utmost caution, Vox picked it up, ignoring the dried blood crusted over its surface - an indicator that it had been yanked out some time ago - and cradled it close to his chest.

The pain Val must have been in when they had extracted it... Vox couldn't fathom it. It made him feel worse, to have something that belonged to Val, something that provoked soul-crushing nostalgia in Vox just by looking at it, but with no Val in sight. 

Vox clasped his hands over the tooth, bracing himself against the swell of sorrow that caused him to accidentally zap one of the monitors with a bolt of electricity, turning it on.

"Please! I'm b-begging you!" Val's frantic voice echoed from the screen. "I can't..! I can't! Please don't! I'll do anything... anything!"

Vox's head shot upwards, dismay plowing through him like an avalanche at the tape he had forgotten was still in his computer drive. The memories rushed back to him from the previous night when the heartbreak and despair had risen so great he had been forced to turn off the footage. Now, it resumed playing where he left it, at the part when Val...

When Val had...

"Wait! No! Stop! Please! Stop! Please! No! Vox! Vox!"

Vox's hold tightened over the tooth. He hunched in on himself, letting the cold, hard floor send a sting up his knees as he sat there, stunted and unable to rid his mind of Val's pleas.

Val had pleaded for him... He sounded so helpless, so desperate, it crumbled Vox on the spot. Vox had seen every single tape heaven had sent from the first batch, had watched Valentino be whipped nearly to death, had watched him get trapped in a latex suit, had watched him struggle and suffocate for days inside it, had watched him die over and over and over again, had watched him cuss and bribe and beg Adam, had watched him get raped, all from the comfort of his office, unable to help him in any way.

"Val..." he whispered to no one.

Since their visit to the hotel, Vox had rewound the tapes in the hope to snag some clues to help them save Val, but all he found was misery and suffering. How many times has Val screamed Vox's name off camera? How many times has he whispered his name silently in his head as he waited for Vox to come only to be met with nothing? How many times has he cried in anguish at the thought that Vox might not be looking for him? What new tortures was he enduring every second Vox failed to reach him?

From the screen, Adam was saying something, probably forcing Val to call him "master" again and Vox felt his entire body frizzle with electricity. He knew hate intimately, perhaps better than anyone, but no detestation in the history of mankind could match the contempt Vox felt for those angels.

"No... please no..!" Val's panicked cries tore through the room again.

Vox bolted to his feet, unable to listen to the ragged, raw screams of hopelessness blaring from the monitor. Shutting his mind from the noises, Vox entered one of the computers and traversed through miles of data to pop into his penthouse.

He was met with a dark, gloomy atmosphere, an empty lounge that should be filled with an overtly melancholic, pent up moth waiting for Vox to arrive. The instinct to list expendable employees rushed through Vox before he caught himself, remembering Valentino wasn't there.

The flush of nostalgia only heightened his self-deplore and he angrily stalked towards the bar at the far corner, swung open the wooden door to the liquor cabinet, and picked up the nearest bottle without looking.

He popped the cork open with his teeth and began to chug.

●

The bottle clinked against the others already littered to the floor as Vox reclined on the couch, wiping his mouth. He had lost count of how much he had drunk by now; it would be enough when it dulled the debilitating ache in his heart. Until then, he emptied his alcohol supply with reckless abandon.

He didn't usually do this; no, he never did this. Drinking during work hours with no afterthought? He wouldn't be caught dead attempting it. Yet, here he was, drinking away the thoughts in the hope it will help.

It didn't.

Agitated, Vox pushed himself off the couch and immediately stumbled to the side when a wave of dizziness struck him. He clutched his head, willing himself to focus.

With a wobbly gait, Vox meandered out of his suite. He didn't have a clear destination or goal in mind, but his brain caught up as his legs lead him towards Velvette's own private quarters. Yes. Yes, she was exactly what he needed. Perhaps, he could needle her to yell at him, insult him, berate him. Maybe, he could be obnoxious enough to even get her to hit him. He needed to be hit, he needed to be humiliated in some way to distract him from his failures. It's what he deserved anyway. He could afford to share some of the pain Valentino was experiencing every single day.

When he got there, he didn't bother knocking. He simply pinged himself in the form of lighting through the door's gap and to the other side and briefly blinked to accommodate his eyes to the warm, rosy lights that greeted him. She was here then. Good.

Vox stubbornly strode over to her living room and his chest tingled from the anticipation of what her ire would have in store for him, but it all paddled into nothing when he saw Velvette soundly asleep on one of the couches.

Her lashes fell softly against her cheeks, lips parted open and eyes closed in dreamy repose. Her phone lay neglected next to her pillow, the screen gently illuminating her face, but as peaceful as the sight of her sleeping was, Vox could only focus on the picture she had been looking at.

On the phone, Vox saw an image of Velvette and Valentino. They were in some mall, embracing each other, hands making peace signs and cupping one another's shoulders, both of their faces radiating with their bright smiles. For a moment, Vox simply gaped at the picture as he painstakingly noticed the tear stains on the pillow where Velvette rested her head, indicating that she must have dozed off fairly recently.

The more he absorbed the innocent sight the more he regretted his previous accusations that Velvette didn't care about Valentino. Of course, she cared; she just suppressed her fear better than Vox could.

...Vox felt like an ass. Exhaling a tense breath, he reached over to turn off Velvette's phone before putting it in his pocket. As gingerly and as quietly as he could, he slid his arms beneath her - thankfully, light - frame and scooped her up. Holding her close to his chest, Vox walked them toward her bedroom.

She stirred, her expression sketched with dozy disquietude, probably sensing her body being lifted. Arriving in her bedroom, Vox carefully laid her on the bed. After putting her phone on the nightstand and taking off her slippers, he covered her with the blanket, tucking her in. Instantly, she melted into the warmth, her entire body relaxing; she must be exhausted. Hesitating, he considered plopping next to her to sleep off his slightly inebriated state and further delay having to watch the new batch of tapes before he thought better of it, knowing she wouldn't appreciate waking up next to a hungover man.

While awake, she was never any less than a blazing, really mean firework, but now she looked so... small, vulnerable, and it grounded Vox with the realization of how easily those angels could take her too. If they wanted to, they could snatch her away at any moment just as easily as they had taken Val. Needing to affirm her presence, Vox settled a hand on her head, tenderly brushing the stray strands of hair back, before he leaned down and gently kissed her forehead.

A soft mumble tumbled from her lips, but other than that she didn't move. With one last, long look to ensure she's comfortable, Vox turned around and left. In the end, he had gotten what he wanted after all: his mind freed from Valentino's screams.

On his trek to his room, he reminisced about mushy memories of when they had all been together and before he knew it, he had arrived back to his place but just as he went to throw himself on his bed he noticed the room was off.

His heart leapt as he realized he had accidentally entered Valentino's bedroom. Despite the frantic thumping of his pulse, the room was eerily quiet, the pervasive silence that came from something important missing. And here Vox thought the cracks in his soul couldn't grow wider; as his gaze tracked the dusty furniture, the unused bed, the neglected skincare and makeup products on Val's vanity table, the dimly lit pictures atop various shelves and surfaces of him smiling and happy, Vox progressively got overtaken with the urge to rip out his heart if only to stop the pain.

With nothing to do but stew in the crippling grief, Vox's fingers slowly tapped at the red satin sheets, claws gliding across the delicate fabric, his traitorous brain giving him the urge to lift them as though he could uncover the person he needed more than anything and then everything will be alright again.

He retracted his hand as though he had been scorched. The rancor from hell's citizens had blessedly died down in the past weeks, profits had stabilized and the threat of retribution had petered out as soon as the initial fury had. So, Vox took his time, unrushed. Moving with languid, lolling steps, he dragged himself to Val's wardrobe. He didn't know why, perhaps curiosity, perhaps a need to be closer to Val, perhaps pure desperation itself.

Val's wardrobe was long and stuffed with outfits of various kinds. They were all maddeningly expensive of course with most of them bought by Vox's own credit cards, but Vox didn't mind. He would give Valentino all the money he had if it meant having him back. As Vox passed sparkling dresses and sleek suits he got swept with Valentino's distinct rich, sugary cologne swathed with a tint of cigarette smoke. It smelled so much like Valentino.

Unmistakable.

Overwhelming.

Vox dropped to his knees. A loud thud echoed as sharp pain sprung up his legs, but he didn't care. His arms shakily reached out to hold onto one of Val's outfits, a satin white dress laced with glass beads that gave the impression it had recently risen out of water, and brought it to his face. He inhaled sharply, memorizing the smell before the winds of time stole that from him too.

"Come back..." he found himself whispering, his voice muffled by the dress. "For once in your life do what I say and come back."

His plea was met with silence. He kicked himself internally for demanding that of Valentino. If Val was capable of escaping he would have by now. It was Vox's responsibility to help him, to save him.

And he was failing.

"I'm sorry." his voice shattered, his hands subconsciously crinkling the dress, their grip hardening as though Vox could drag Valentino back to his arms if he clutched to his clothes strongly enough. "I don't know what to do." the admission left him before he could stop it.

A part of him waited for an answer, a sign, a whisper to solve his problems, but it never came. He didn't know how long he stayed there, holding Val's dress and silently apologizing in a pathetic pretense to beg for Val's forgiveness which he didn't deserve. It could have been his mind's eye deluding itself, so Vox ignored the crackling, distorted noises waving from outside until they rose so high he couldn't excuse them as just a figment of his imagination anymore.

Confused, he craned his neck, but saw nothing. Val's bedroom was still empty, yet he could hear vague static resounding from somewhere. Vox thumped his head, ascertaining whether his processes have been screwed, but the noise still echoed.

Growing paranoid, Vox rose to his feet and followed the sound. It lead to one of Valentino's drawers, the private ones he didn't let anyone touch - in fact, he had threatened to shoot Vox the first time he had tried.

The more Vox crept toward the source, the more his primal instincts started to buzz at the dreadfully familiar frequency in the air and as the radio waves increased in strength Vox got flooded with the urge to run. He didn't know how this was possible, but there was a faint voice Vox didn't dare to name interwoven through the static, words jumbled and incomprehensible. Vox couldn't mistake it if his life was on the line.

He tried opening the drawer, but unsurprisingly it was locked. Sighing, Vox pressed his thumb over the lock and sent a searing surge of electricity through it, melting it down. When he managed to pry the drawer open, the voice became lucid.

"-yone there? Testing! Call incoming, can you hear me?" Alastor jokingly called out in that lively, carefree tone that in the past would have made Vox smile.

Vox cautiously picked up the small radio in the drawer huddled amidst music cassettes, pictures of all three Vees and what looked like several diaries, wondering why in the ever-living fuck it was there. Had Val been keeping one this entire time? Vox knew the moth got off on danger, but this was too crazy even for him.

Val you fucking idiot! - Vox screamed in his head, his adrenaline soaring through his veins and effectively clearing out the drunken daze.

"Is this thing on?" Alastor was still going. "Can you hear me-?"

"What? What? What?!" Vox barked, needing Alastor to shut up so he can think.

"Ah, well if it isn't my old friend turned spectacular disappointment."

Vox's hands tightened over the radio. Alastor had always had an idiosyncratic ability to poke at people's deepest, most riled up inhibitions until eventually they snapped. He never failed to inflame Vox's with preternatural aptitude.

"I was about to say the same thing." he retorted confidently.

"Hmm, no. I don't think you were." Alastor mused as nonchalant as ever and Vox wanted to strangle him.

Eight years. It has been eight years since Vox last talked to this impossible, irritating man.

"How are you... here?" Electricity licked up and down Vox's frame as he felt his left eye sync to his resentment.

"Just because you decided get pissy and throw temper tantrums like a child, doesn't mean your friends did too." Alastor paused, but Vox couldn't find it in himself to interrupt him, stumped from the implications. "In fact, Valentino has tuned in to some of my shows this past year. It seems your moving pictures have finally bored him."

Laughter rippled out of the radio from an imaginary audience as Alastor chuckled at his own derogatory jibe.

Vox pinched his brows, questioning how Valentino has survived this long before Alastor spoke again. "Yet, he hasn't checked in in quite a while. I've only now sensed a human presence, naturally I was curious so I called, and imagine my surprise when I saw it was just the man I was looking for. Though the pathetic sniveling I heard is a new low even for you, my dear; it does make one wonder for Valentino's whereabouts."

Vox's eyes widened, his fury stirring at Alastor’s knowing, suggestive tone. "You know damn well where he is. You all do."

"Calm down, old chap, there's no need to get emotional. I was merely making idle talk."

"Well..." Vox seethed, prepared to crush the radio in his palm. "While you're making idle talk I have work to do, you selfish prick. So, take that massive ego of yours and fuck off."

His claws dug into the wood, moments away from splintering it.

"Oh, ready to leave so soon?" Alastor leeched with a short, ominous crackle of static. "Shame. And here I thought you might be interested in this tidbit of information I happened to come across that might help you get your friend back. But, if you insist on being as stubborn as usual, then I'd best be on my way."

"Wait!" Vox instinctively reacted, gaze locked on the radio in wary interest.

Alastor never did anything out of the kindness of his heart, to him the world was a casino and he traipsed it as a dangerous, experienced gambler; if he truly had information that might help Vox save an overlord who has presented himself as competition to Alastor then Alastor will undoubtedly demand a steep price for it.

Vox pushed down his pride. "I'm listening."

Chapter Text

Silence stretched from the radio in Vox's hand and for a moment he worried Alastor had indeed left, but then the demon gave a simple "Well, in that case I suppose we can come to some sort of arrangement."

There it was.

"What do you want?" Vox asked tersely, not having the patience to beat around the bush.

"We can discuss the details tomorrow-"

"No, we'll discuss them now." Vox cut him off. If Alastor had any viable information that might help them get Val back then Vox will attain it as fast as possible.

"I think not." Alastor counteracted and if he were there Vox would have tossed him through a window. "As entertaining as your desperation is, I think we'll make this deal a little more formally."

Vox barked out a laugh. "Absolutely not. I'm not as naïve as those playtoys you have at the hotel. I know you Alastor, and I'm not going to make a deal with you unless I have time to weight the benefits."

"Hmm, no, I wouldn't say naïve." Alastor hummed noncommittally. "Temperamental? Yes. Reckless? Absolutely, ha ha. It's a miracle you've managed to reach your level overlord status with those liabilities."

Vox's screen glitched. "I have my strengths. I can demonstrate them if you'd like."

"I seem to remember them faltering the last time you tried to threaten me. Really, Vox? Don't you ever learn from your mistakes?"

"I learned from you," he admitted furtively, a heaviness dropping in his chest. "And you were the biggest mistake I've ever made."

His words fell like freezing water over the conversation and the smallest, most infinitesimal pang of remorse struck his heart. Usually, their mutual barbs weren't so heartless. They were bitter and cruel and cutting and pejorative, but they weren't nostalgic, as though they both strived to distance themselves from a time when they could have been called friends.

What's worse is that Vox hadn't actually meant it.

"Rude." Alastor finally said, his voice poignant in a way he couldn't hide. "You really are fascinating. You talk and talk and talk about modernization and improvement, you will change your appearance, your voice, your personality, anything that makes you remarkable, yet you haven't changed at all. You are always so focused on having all eyes on you that you're failing to see yourself."

"Oh, please," Vox scoffed, disregarding the stony weight that settled in his gut. "As if you're one to talk, you've never cared about anyone other than yourself."

Laughter rippled through the radio, crippling Vox's confidence with expeditious ease. "Typical of you Picturebox to believe what you see and never what you hear."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Alastor stayed quiet for a moment. "...No matter. I don't see a point in dawdling on pointless topics."

Vox nodded his head dejectedly, his ire growing at his persistent vexation. "Yeah..."

"Meet me tomorrow at Pentagram Square." Alastor quickly sniped, getting down to business. "Sharp at noon."

"Why won't you tell me what you want?" Vox asked with an exhausted exhale.

"Where's the fun in that?" Another chuckle fluttered through, as though this was all a game to Alastor. It was. "After all, if he truly means that much to you, you wouldn't gamble with his life. What's a simple deal with an old friend compared to the worth of his life, hmm?"

Vox slid a hand down his face, caught in a corner. "Fine." he grit out.

"Wonderful!" Alastor exclaimed as he usually did when he got what he wanted after a generous abundance of nagging. "I shall set the date. How exciting!"

"I hate you," Vox deadpanned with what he hoped was an intimidating scowl but only earned himself another laugh.

"I know," was all Alastor said before the radio flickered off with a click.

●

As much as he detested Alastor for making him wait until the next day, Vox was grateful for it. If he had barged straight into a deal with one of the most nefarious, underhanded demons in Pride while drunk off his ass it wouldn't have ended well for him.

The blood-red sky bathed the city in a shower of misery as Vox stood in its midst, his screen and suit disharmonizing the scenery with their striking, blue vividness. He clung to the side of one of the buildings circling Pentagram Square in a more secluded corner, not wanting to expose himself publicly as he waited for Alastor.

Much to his embarrassment, he jumped when a pair of shadowy hands landed on his shoulders from behind. "Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Alastor grinned in Vox's peripheral. "Pentagram City's most darling television host."

Vox shrugged him off, ignoring the phantom coldness of Alastor’s touch which he hadn't felt in nearly a decade. "Alastor." he said flatly.

"My, to finally see you again in the flesh," his smile stretched, an inscrutable blankness setting over his eyes. "You've made yourself quite the celebrity. Should I be honored to stand in your presence? Should I bow?" he winked mockingly.

They had slightly stepped out of their sequestered, private corner and into the light and, as if on cue, a small group of demons came scuttling over to them.

"Mr. Vox! Mr. Vox!" they blabbered, overlapping with one another before one of them finally calmed the others down enough to ask "Excuse me, could we get a photo with you?"

Her smile was bright and hopeful and even without looking Vox sensed how Alastor’s eyebrow raised comically high. However, his own expression mellowed from its stolid, cynical grimace to a charming smile in the blink of an eye. "Of course," he affirmed and tried not to wince at the squeals it elicited.

After he took a quick photo, or two, or three, he kindly shooed them off and turned back to Alastor. His scowl returned "Alright, those girls won't be the last so let's get this over with."

Alastor's smile twitched, his eyes curving with amusement, studious, and it injected Vox with the urge to squirm. "Famous celebrity, indeed." he drawled thoughtfully, not taking his gaze off of Vox for a second as Vox tried to stand his ground. "Very well, then. I shall be quick, come along now."

Before Vox could protest, Alastor swung an arm around his shoulders and dragged him out into the open. "What are you doing?" he hissed, pointedly aware of all the curious stares that latched onto them as they waved through the crowd.

"I just thought we'd get out into some proper lighting," Alastor answered casually, his grip tightening on Vox's arm when he sensed him trying to wiggle free. "That television head of yours is a bit of an eyesore."

Vox smiled at the copious amount of people that were now blatantly gaping at them, phones flashing as they took their picture. He couldn't blame them, already his mind grew dizzy from the limitless rumors he will have to eradicate from the Internet that he and Alastor have reconciled. Or worse, are together.

"This is not what I agreed to," he complained angrily, a stark contrast to the friendly greeting he did at some particularly excited demons that whistled at him. 

He wasn't used to this. Always, he scheduled his visits with fans on his terms and conditions which were already rare enough to count. His expertise lay in the solitude of his office where every possible variable was predicted and easily controlled. He never put himself out in the open like this; not only was it a potential PR nightmare, but it was also incredibly dangerous.

Alastor didn't seem to care.

"Calm down, you'll be back to that silly old tower of yours in no time where you can stay holed up for however long you like." Alastor finally stopped dragging him and Vox's body relaxed.

"I'm not holed up." he bit defensively.

"Mhm," Alastor hummed skeptically. "Yes, you are. And so is Valentino."

At that, Vox sobered up completely, any previous nervousness evaporating like steaming water. "No more games, Al. Tell me what you know." He demanded, uncompromising.

Alastor lifted a finger to his chin and shrugged. "I will, but you'll have to do something for me in return."

Vox's teeth clenched, his patience waning. "What. Do. You. Want?"

When another group of sinners rolled up next to them asking for selfies, Vox snapped. He whirled on them, activated his hypnosis and seethed "Leave."

Faces blank, minds empty and voices stolen, they stumbled away. But, the command didn't get rid of the ring of viewers gathering around them, whispering behind their hands in an unsuccessful attempt to be inconspicuous.

Alastor watched the exchange unfold with poorly veiled interest. His hands lay clasped over his cane and Vox couldn't help the burst of elation he felt at seeing the broken, poorly-taped handle. Alastor could hold his head high, but all of hell knew about his defeat at the hands of Adam.

...something stirred in Vox at the thought, odd and intrusive as the previous elation melted away. For some reason, Adam's victory over his greatest nemesis wasn't as cathartic anymore. Now, Vox would give anything for Alastor to have won that fight all those weeks ago and he blinked in surprise at his change in perspective.

In front of him, Alastor raked his gaze over their surroundings, taking his time. "Quite the audience we've collected here," he pointed out coolly, not looking at Vox. "To imagine, if I had accepted your offer to join your little team I would have had to suffer this on the daily. Ho ho, what a disturbing thought; look at them, they're recording your every move, later to be watched by thousands."

Vox tapped his foot against the ground, restless. "God dammit Alastor, just get to the fucking point. What do you want?"

The smile on Alastor’s face quirked up slightly before the demon swiveled his head back towards Vox. He stared at him with the intensity of a hungry predator before he finally gave his terms.

"Kneel."

He said it so softly, so lightly, that Vox questioned for several long seconds whether he had heard Alastor correctly. But, as the sharp glint in his eye seared into Vox, as that lethal smile remained wide and giddy, and as the demand circulated through Vox's mind repeatedly, Vox accepted that Alastor hadn't misspoke, nor had he been joking.

He had come prepared with the knowledge that Alastor’s terms would be grueling; he had expected him to ask for Vox's soul, or make him destroy his own company, or trade his information for sordid favors, yet this hadn't crossed Vox's mind. It should have however, and he internally kicked himself for stupidly following along with the demon's crooked, deceitful plans.

"You've gotta be kidding me." he breathed out, incredulous and livid.

Now, he understood why Alastor had insisted on meeting at a public place, why he had tugged Vox out in the middle of one of the busiest, most crowded intersections in the entire city, and why he had stalled until they had been swamped with attention. Because he needed that audience. He needed the world to see Vox's humiliation, he needed everyone to witness and forever remember Vox admitting Alastor’s superiority.

Alastor tilted his head innocently. "No, I don't think I am."

And that was exactly why Alastor was one of the most dangerous beings in hell. Unlike everyone else, Alastor didn't chase any particular goal, he didn't need control, power, influence, sex or wealth; he already had most of those. All Alastor strived for was entertainment, to watch the political scheme unfold while he sat back with a bucket of popcorn and laughed as the chess pieces crushed each other. There was no way to bribe him, or extort him, or cajole him, or threaten him. Even with his majestic defeat captured forever onscreen, he has no weakness. Vox has no leverage over this man.

"I'm not kneeling." Vox stubbornly spat, shaking his head.

Alastor merely shrugged, his eyes blinking in a disappointed fashion. "Suit yourself," he splayed a palm over his chest solemnly as he turned away with a deep-throated chuckle. "My heart goes out to your friend. You never even got to say goodbye. Such a pity."

"No-" Vox reached over and briskly grabbed Alastor’s shoulder.

A flood of wild, bloodthirsty shadows split the space between them, causing Vox to immediately release him. Taking a few steps back, he realized it was Alastor’s shadow with a murderous, baleful snarl on its face.

Alastor glared at him from across his shoulder, pitch black voids behind ticking radio dials fixed on Vox. He spun around and calmly stalked toward Vox before stopping. "Either you meet my conditions... or we're done."

Vox's fingers grappled empty air at his sides, at a loss on what to do as Alastor waited for his answer. The rise in boldness from the crowd gathered around them didn't pass by Vox; they had crept closer, itching with desire to hear their conversation.

He assessed his options carefully. Alastor stared him down, posture straight, features relaxed like he had all the time in the world. 

Vox didn't want to do it. He didn't want to kneel before him. After all he has suffered at Alastor’s hands, all the rivalry that has spanned for so many years, all the blood they have shed, all the damage they have caused to each other, to culminate it so pathetically by admitting Alastor's victory? He couldn't do it.

He had a choice: either preserve his dignity and risk losing Val forever, or yield and ruin his reputation irreparably. Whichever it was... Alastor had won.

"You bastard..."

Alastor’s grin sharpened.

The overwhelming sounds from all around quelled in Vox's mind as Valentino's image overtook it. Val with his beautiful, deadly smile, his crimson, cunning eyes, his sensual voice, his soft words and his hard touches. He was remarkable, irreplaceable, one of a kind, a treasure for which an adequate price didn't exist. Vox will never find anyone like him even if he searched for all eternity. He belonged with Vox, away from those angels that only wanted to hurt him, to discolor the world by breaking that precious marvel.

It was that image that Vox clung to as he slowly dropped to his knees.

Shocked gasps erupted from the onlookers as Vox burned with shame. He was overtly certain he will never be able to scrub the sensation from his soul that will remain as a permanent, indelible mark to remind him of this moment. The bright, flashing lights of phones increased in number and Vox had to squint his eyes. His hands fiercely held onto his pants to anneal the debilitating embarrassment. He didn't lean back on his hunches, wanting to remain as tall as possible as he returned Alastor’s gaze in a last, vain attempt to preserve his pride.

Alastor's expression was... vague. There was sadistic glee present, but his amusement and triumph outweighed it.

"Color me surprised," he murmured quietly, barely surpassing the frenetic whispering from all sides. "I didn't think you would do it. He must be truly special for you to finally recognize your position beneath me."

Vox clenched his teeth so hard he feared they might shatter. 

Before he could say anything, Alastor lifted his cane and settled it underneath Vox's chin and it took every ounce of self-control for Vox not to slap it away. "Tell me," he tilted Vox's head up. "If I had asked for your soul... would you have given it to me?"

Vox focused on controlling his breathing, fighting to stave off a panic attack. "That isn't part of our deal," he grunted, taken aback at his humbled tone. "You said you have information - and I swear to god - it better be good."

"Well, you're no fun. Can't I take my time to savor this moment?"

"Alastor..." Vox growled; he couldn't imagine the calamity of posts and videos already swirling online. He just wanted to get this done.

"Oh, alright then. So hasty," he tusked. 

Alastor removed his cane to lean down to Vox's level. His voice was barely a hush as he relayed the knowledge that explained... everything, and after he did Vox could only stare in shock.

His eyes remained glued open as Alastor leaned back. "How do you know this?"

Alastor wagged his index finger. "Ah, ah, ah, that isn't part of our deal, remember?" he threw Vox's own argument back at him.

"How do I find her?" Vox quickly deflected, his mind turning in on itself.

Alastor shrugged, inspecting his nails. "That, I'm afraid, is up to you to figure out, my friend." he redirected his gaze back at Vox and smiled devilishly. "Is the floor so comfortable or do you simply enjoy kneeling before me?"

Taking that as a cue that they were finished here, Vox gave on last snarl before he wordlessly disappeared into a bolt of electricity through one of the nearby phones without looking back. Alastor’s wicked laughter echoed behind him as he navigated through billions of data to reach his office.

In his hurry, he crashed into his desk chair and frantically pulled out his phone to dial the number. "Velvette-"

"You motherfucker!" came her eloquent, expected fury.

"My dear, I need you to-"

"I'll fucking kill you!" she screamed, ignoring his placating words. "Do you have any idea what you've done?! It's all over social media! The Radio Demon!? Have you actually gone insane Vox or did you jus-"

"I know how to get Val back." he said stoically.

Velvette went silent. "What do you mean? Vox, was that why you did it? You made a deal with him?"

"Yes," Vox kept his tone even as he rolled his chair to face his wall of computers. "And I'll need you to help me control this thing from spreading."

"Yeah, no shit," she sighed, albeit calmer now. "I'm already doing it."

"Good," he got to work immediately, scanning through the specific hashtags and key words for every post detailing the event he could find, his fingers tapping with lightning expertise. "After we deal with this, I'm going to do what I should have done ages ago."

The plan was already brewing in his mind, lies and illusions twisting into a neat pattern and he cursed himself for not having thought of it sooner.

"And what's that?" Velvette asked.

Vox's smile stretched upward. "It's about time his royal highness knew what his wife has been up to."

●

The cards crinkled under Lucifer's grip as he watched the gambling demon - Husk, he remembered - win another round. A litany of curses spewed as everyone chucked their cards on the table in defeat. Husk only laughed, enjoying the scene.

Lucifer crossed his arms; he didn't usually get so immersed in card games, but they've been going at this the entire night and he had yet to win a game. Besides, it has been so long since he has socialized with such... ease; he had misjudged these demons, they weren't so bad when one got to know them.

His ego was bruised purple by now and it took every ounce of his control not to cheat. Just when Husk began dealing another round they all heard the TV behind them crackle to life.

All heads snapped towards the unexpected disruption, faces scrunched up in confusion and worry as a familiar voice broke through.

"Dear citizens of hell," Vix? Vox? - Lucifer couldn't recall, entered the screen, hands clasped tightly as he leaned his elbows on a desk, his gaze piercing straight at the camera. "Apologies for this sudden announcement, but it is to my greatest pleasure and highest honor to inform you all that we finally have breaking news about Queen Lilith, the first woman and leader of hell."

The chair clattered loudly to the floor as Lucifer bolted to his feet, the motion instinctual. His entire body went stiff and his breathing grew heavy as a dense tension fell over the room. He couldn't look at the others, his gaze locked warily onto the television, but he knew they were all staring with equal shock.

Vox's smile gleamed wicked. "We have received reports by none other than our very own partner, Valentino, who has volunteered to be an operative in heaven to help us rise above the oppression heaven has forced us under for centuries. For the past two months, Valentino has gathered information and risked his life to help us; I myself can vouch for the honesty of his word, and according to him, Queen Lilith has spent these past eight years fighting with all her strength for your freedom."

"What the fuck?!" Angel Dust squawked, his expression contorted in a mix of abject astonishment, confusion, unease and distress.

No one answered, all of them fixated on the bombshell happening in front of them.

"My dear listeners... the moment we've all been waiting for is here." Vox stood up with an aura of captivating graveness, his voice righteous and commanding. "We have endured heaven's cruelty for far too long. We have scraped by every annual extermination and we have suffered under their iron fist. But, no more."

Charlie hesitantly walked over to the TV. "What is he doing?" she asked in a quiet, unsettled voice.

On the screen, Vox's left eye widened unnaturally and if Lucifer hadn't previously been put under his hypnosis he wouldn't have recognized what the demon was trying to do. "It's time for us to rise up and rally against this violence. So, I call upon all of you to stand beside our Queen and retake what is rightfully ours."

The ground wobbled underneath Lucifer's shoes and his mind whirled with the onslaught of new information, but he still held a modicum of composure to be able to answer Charlie's question and as he did he felt the very fabric of the universe shift.

"He's starting a war against heaven."