Chapter Text
“Hmmm...a little to the right. Sí, sí…STOP! STOP FUCKING MOVING! Perfecto.”
Velvette cleared her throat and tapped her foot impatiently, the pointed toe of her boot making a sharp click click click on the polished marble floor. Val still didn’t turn around—he was too busy admiring the handiwork of the two VoxTek grunts he’d bullied into helping him. They’d just finished mounting a TV on the wall across from Val’s giant heart-shaped bed—a very specific TV, one sporting a slightly battered screen and a rage-contorted facial expression. They’d had Vox on mute ever since that fateful day he’d almost royally fucked everyone in Hell, but it was clear from the subtitles flashing at the bottom of his screen that the disgraced CEO wasn’t happy at all with his new arrangements.
“Valentino you worthless whore! Just you fucking WAIT until I get my body back…I’ll come for all you motherfuckers who ruined all my plans…I’LL DESTROY ALL OF YOU…”
“Love you too, Voxy.” Val blew a kiss in Vox’s direction, sticking out his ass and giving it a suggestive wiggle for emphasis. “Don’t think of this as a punishment. Think of it as a little vacation, entiendo? You get to hang there and relax for a few weeks…relax and watch me fuck my way through my entire roster! Sounds like so much fun, right? Almost as much fun as that time you thought you were God and treated me and Velvette like total shit!”
“Speaking of Velvette,” interrupted Velvette pointedly. “Shes gettin’ pretty fuckin’ tired of waitin’ around, babe. When are we leavin’?”
Val spun, his black sparkly cape swirling magnificently around him. Velvette couldn’t help but feel a little burst of pride—she’d designed that cape, and Val looked fucking fantastic in it. She was wearing a matching one of course. Capes, she’d decided, would be the hottest trending accessory of the season. Sort of a superhero aesthetic, to distract from the fact that she and Val had been complicit in most of Vox’s villainy.
“Ohhhhh, right…” Val’s smile faltered slightly. He glanced back and forth between the silently-screaming Vox and Velvette, fiddling with his gold body chain awkwardly. “I really want to go, babe, créeme…but I’m just so busy tonight. CEO stuff. Emails and spreadsheets and—just a lot of boring shit I have to get done.”
“What?! But you’re the one who wanted to go to this fuckass show in the first place!” Velvette pulled up the digital tickets on her phone. “The DJ calls himself “Dubious Consent”. Ugh. And he’s gonna be at that disgusting Klub Kaiju, the one with the terrible lighting. For fuck’s sake, the only two reasons I was willin’ to be seen at that shithole were first, my viewership with the lower class has been down recently and second, my best friend wanted me to go with ‘im!”
Val swept over, leaning down to grasp both of Velvette’s hands in two of his. He gazed into her eyes with an earnestness that was borderline theatrical.
“Vel, cariña, I’m soooo sorry. I got those tickets from Zeezi before everything happened, and now…it’s just been super busy since I became the boss. I just have so much going on all the time—so many movies to shoot, so many bitches to manage…you know how it is, sí?”
Disappointment and annoyance twisted in Velvette’s gut, even as she reassured Val that it was no big deal and of course she understood. She pressed the elevator button for her floor of V tower moments later, screaming at the other occupants of the elevator to get the fuck out. She waited until she was blessedly alone in the gilded car before letting out a long, exasperated sigh.
Really, it didn’t surprise her in the slightest that Val had bailed on their plans. Ever since he’d taken over VoxTek he’d slowly started trending in the same direction Vox had—a little too egotistical and self-important for his own good.
Men.
Velvette sighed again, adjusting her elaborately-braided burgundy wig as the elevator slid to a stop with a pleasant ding. How had she ended up with not one but two idiot men as bosses? The worst part was that she still loved them both—Vox for recognizing her potential and giving her a platform in Hell when she’d first arrived, and Val for being her best friend and partner in crime.
She just wished they’d take her seriously. Just for once, she wanted them to care more about her than they cared about all the plotting and scheming and drama.
Alone in her apartment, Velvette found her feet taking her to her favorite place in the whole of Hell—her massive walk-in closet. “Closet” was too narrow a term to describe it, actually. It was her place of worship, her sanctuary from all the bullshit she had to deal with on a day-to-day basis. Velvette ran a manicured hand over a neatly-organized row of boots on a nearby shelf, inhaling the comforting scent of expensive leather. She buried her face in the soft lapel of one of her favorite fur coats and felt any lingering tendrils of disappointment, anger, and loneliness recede to the outskirts of her mind.
Who needed men when you could have clothes? Who needed anyone or anything when you could have clothes, really? Velvette glanced down at her current outfit—a sleeveless burgundy minidress, black snakeskin boots, and the aforementioned cape. She’d put it together specifically for this show—she wanted to be the hottest in the room (obviously) but not in a showy way that would make the club regulars nervous or distrustful. That was the power of fashion; you could shape how people perceived you so easily just by changing out an accessory or two.
It’s a damn shame to waste this look, Velvette thought, glancing back at her phone where the tickets to the show were still pulled up.
Fuck it.
Her online engagement really could use some rehab given her lingering association with Vox’s failure. She’d just go for a bit, hop on a live and pretend to be enjoying what was sure to be a piss awful set, and then fuck off before the crowd got unbearably rowdy. If Val happened to watch her story later and be a little jealous he’d missed it, that was simply icing on the cake.
All it took was a sharp glance and toss of her burgundy pigtails for the bouncer to lead Velvette to one of the VIP booths at the back of the sprawling venue. She settled onto the somewhat sticky black pleather sofa and barked “vodka soda” at the intimidated-looking server girl hovering nearby. Velvette assessed the scene over the purple-tinted glasses she wore sometimes for fashion rather than function. Klub Kaiju was full of exactly the crowd she’d expected—sinners of various shapes, sizes, and states of intoxication danced and jostled each other to the up-tempo music blasting from VoxTek speaker arrays in every corner. Neon party lights illuminated the throngs of patrons in a frenetic kaleidoscope of color. The DJ, a jacked hellhound with an impressive collection of vaguely racist tattoos, showed up fashionably late for his set. Velvette rolled her eyes as he slammed the airhorn button several times on his controller, but she plastered a camera-ready smile on her face and held up her phone, tapping “go live” in the corner of the screen.
“Hey babes, it’s your favorite #bitch Velvette comin’ to you live from Klub Kaiju! I’ve got a VIP seat for the—er—hottest new DJ in town, Dubious Consent!”
She flipped the camera around, zooming in on the stage where DubCon was now overlaying the club remix of Verosika Mayday’s “Vacay To Bonetown” with ill-timed record scratch sound effects.
“Hey Velvette!”
Someone plopped down next to Velvette, and she nearly dropped her phone as the couch buckled and sagged. She glanced over—or rather, up—at the enormous pink dinosaur sporting neon green hair and a hideous black crop top set.
“Zeezi! A pleasure, as always,” she yelled over the music. Zeezi was the owner of most of the clubs in Pentagram City, and although Velvette disliked her overly-boisterous demeanor and general lack of fashion sense, she and the other overlord generally got along. “Thanks for the tickets. I’m truly…enjoying…myself.”
“Anytime, babe!” Zeezi threw an arm around Velvette’s shoulder, nearly snapping her in half in the process. “But where’s the big boss Val? He promised he’d make an appearance, lend some celebrity to the event, ya know?”
“Val got tied up, and not in the fun way. I’m standin’ in for tonight,” Velvette replied, straightening and trying to exude as much confidence as possible.
“Oh…cool…” Zeezi smiled, but there was obvious disappointment in her eyes as she got to her feet. “Well I’m glad to have you, Velvette. You always bring a certain—um—unpredictability when you rep the Vees!”
Velvette frowned at the implication. Zeezi must be referring to the overlord meeting with that geriatric bitch Carmilla that she’d apparently ruined just by asking a few simple questions. Vox had made her apologize for it in what was one of the most humiliating moments of her afterlife. Clearly Zeezi was of the same wrong opinion as everyone else—that she’d been disrespectful and immature and blah blah blah…
Fuck ‘em all.
Velvette gave Zeezi a stiff nod before turning back to her phone. Her eyes flicked over the comments scrolling by on one side of the screen.
wait, val isn’t there?
LAME. I wanna see moth daddy!
vox was kinda fascist but at least he wasn’t fake like u
ZEEZI SIT ON MY FACE 🙏
the vees are so over #agendahotel
Collab? DM me!
that cape is ugly af
✌️bye chat. i was only here for Val 🥵💦
Velvette felt her heart drop faster than her viewer count. She ended the livestream, sinking back into the couch and wrapping her cape around her like a blanket. The Velvette from a year ago would have kept streaming, negative comments be damned. But then again, the Velvette from a year ago rarely got any negative comments. This whole Vox business had upset the delicate balance of online opinion. Everyone was suddenly so over her, but somehow none of the hate extended to Valentino…because of course it didn’t…
The social media overlord crossed her arms, looking around grouchily. Where was that damn server with her drink? She grew restless after several more minutes of waiting and got to her feet, taking a deep breath before exiting her booth and pushing her way through the crowd. She headed towards the bar, which stood in the back of the room beneath a row of TVs that were all tuned to 666 News. Katie Killjoy was babbling on about the reconstruction efforts that were ongoing ever since Vox’s angel-powered weapon leveled several blocks, though the throng of sinners clustered around seemed far more interested in acquiring alcohol than keeping up with the local news.
Velvette elbowed her way between two burly incubi, leaning over the bar. As her eyes scanned impatiently for someone to yell at, they snagged on a woman sitting across from her, hunched over a beer with a stormy expression darkening her features. Cropped silver hair poked out from under her black hood, and the lower half of her face was covered by a black gaiter. She certainly wasn’t fashionable enough to catch Velvette’s eye on a normal day, but when she looked up, her bright golden gaze made a flicker of recognition spark to life in the back of the overlord’s brain.
She’d seen this bitch before, though she couldn’t put a finger on where.
Velvette was about to round the bar to investigate when the timid server from earlier appeared in front of her, offering her a vodka soda with a side of profuse apologies. Velvette snatched her drink, glancing over the girl’s shoulder at the place where the mysterious not-stranger had been a second ago. Except now, she was nowhere to be seen.
Velvette shook her head and took an unladylike gulp of vodka. She wondered if she was seeing things, or maybe she’d just gotten a little paranoid. Given recent events, could anyone blame her, really? She finished her drink and ordered another, letting the warm fuzzies of alcohol on an empty stomach soothe away some of her rising panic over how poorly the livestream had gone. She glanced in the direction of her booth but ended up headed towards the exit instead, one hand fumbling in her designer purse for her vape. Fresh air and a couple hits always did wonders for her nerves before a shoot, though she doubted they would be as effective now, when it felt like everything was crumbling down around her.
Once outside, she leaned against the cold brick wall of the building and raised the vape to her lips. She was about to take her first deep inhale when motion in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Someone was walking away from her down the grimy street of the clubbing district—someone with short silver hair and a black hooded cloak fluttering behind her in the breeze.
“Hey—hey you! Stop!” Velvette hastened forward, cursing her choice of footwear as she stumbled along the uneven pavement. The mysterious person didn’t stop—in fact, she increased her pace, glancing over her shoulder furtively to check if Velvette was still following her.
Dodgy. Extremely dodgy…
Velvette stuck out a hand, summoning a glowing purple rope fashioned into a lasso. She tossed it into the air and used her magic to send it hurtling forward at inhuman speed. It looped around the woman’s shoulders and she gasped, tripping and crashing face-first into the pavement as Velvette pulled the rope taut.
“I told you to stop, bitch,” Velvette said with a cruel smile as she caught up to where her captive lay on the sidewalk. The woman struggled weakly against the restraints, her face turned defiantly to the side. Squatting down, Velvette grabbed her by the chin, forcing down the gaiter and pushing back the hood. Shocked recognition flooded over her as she took in the black halo and all-too-familiar face that were now on full display.
“Wait…aren’t you that motherfuckin’ exorcist who wanted to kill us all? What the actual fuck are you doing sneakin’ around Klub Kaiju? Lookin’ to finish the job your shitty boss started?”
She straddled Lute gracefully, pinning her to the ground. Surprisingly, the angel appeared to be completely unarmed—her usual spear was suspiciously absent. Velvette was just cursing herself for not bringing the little pink handgun with angelic steel bullets that Val had gifted her (the thigh holster was too damn bulky and ruined her aesthetic) when Lute let out a resigned sigh and closed her eyes.
“If you’re going to kill me, go right ahead,” she growled. “In fact, please do…just fucking get it over with, you disgusting sinner.”
Notes:
I wanted to write a real enemies to lovers and I was really disappointed with the lack of Lute content in season 2 after she had that one badass song…suddenly I found myself writing 10k+ words about the rarest of rarepairs…Velute? Luvel? #SpearBitch? Whatever. Such is the nature of my inspiration 💕
If you’re here, thanks for the read. Lmk if you have any ideas for character interactions. I’m gonna have so much fun with this one.
Chapter Text
“So remind me…why are we in your closet again?”
Velvette scowled, pulling the belt binding Lute’s wrists—one flesh and one metallic—a little tighter. The angel was seated in the center of the closet on one of Velvette’s kitchen chairs. The overlord had managed to sneak her captive into Vee tower by conjuring her a baggy VoxTek warehouse worker uniform complete with a hood to conceal that conspicuous black halo. Lute’s wings were as suspiciously absent as her spear—she’d obviously been trying to go incognito on her little Klub Kaiju escapade.
But why ditch the wings but keep the halo? Why hide at all? And why is she even in Hell in the first place?
Velvette felt her brain shifting into detective mode as she grabbed two more belts from her considerable collection and got to work fastening Lute’s ankles to the legs of the chair. No, she scolded herself firmly. It doesn’t fuckin’ matter why she’s here. All that matters is that you get rid of this scum as quickly as possible.
She’d decided to restrain Lute in the closet while she searched her apartment for her gun since her magic was hard to maintain when she got too far away from the target. Her closet door had a complex deadbolt system that rivaled a bank’s vault—Velvette’s clothing collection was worth more than the assets of many banks, after all. She’d added the belts as a final touch to dissuade Lute from destroying anything inside the temporary prison. The idea of this genocidal maniac laying her filthy hands on any of her precious clothes made Velvette physically ill, but the closet had been the only place she could think of to imprison someone on such short notice.
“Don’t wanna answer me, huh?” Lute watched Velvette work with a cool, assessing gaze. “I suppose I can’t blame you—Victoria, was it?”
Velvette couldn’t stop herself from letting out an offended little gasp.
“Victoria?! I am SO not a Victoria!” she snapped, double checking that the ankle belts were secure before getting huffily to her feet. “I’m called Velvette. Not that it should matter to you since you’ll be dead as soon as I can find my fuckin’ gun.”
Lute cocked her head, lips twisting into an infuriating smirk.
“Whatever you say, Vic.”
“UGH!” Velvette clenched her fists to stop herself from punching the other woman square in the face. She would NOT be rage baited by this piece of shit—Vox would have been, but she was better than Vox. Turning stiffly, she headed for the door, stopping to give Lute a warning look.
“If you fuck with anything in here, I’ll make your death long and painful, babe. Trust.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Lute’s malicious expression suddenly shifted to one contorted by rage. Velvette smiled cruelly, pleased to have finally struck a nerve. She pulled the closet door shut slowly, staring down Lute through the shrinking gap.
“Don’t like it? Maybe you should’ve thought twice before all that Victoria bullshit, eh babe?”
Alone in her vast apartment, Velvette began frantically searching for the angelic steel gun in all the places she usually put the gifts Val gave her—the weapons safe full of various other firearms (most bedazzled), her lingerie drawer, and even the huge black toy chest he’d given her last Christmas (stocked with a wide variety of sex toys since “you never open up to me about your kinks, cariña”). But try as she might, the little pink gun was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” Velvette muttered under her breath as she dug through the piles of dildos and vibrators. “Fuck fuckity fuck.” What was she going to do? None of her other weapons or magic would work on that bitch, and the longer she spent looking the longer Lute had to find a way to escape and finish whatever dastardly plan she’d surely been carrying out when Velvette interrupted her.
Val.
The obvious answer to her problem finally hit her. Valentino was sure to have other angelic steel weapons in the massive arsenal in his penthouse. She hated admitting that she couldn’t handle this situation on her own, but time was of the essence here. Velvette scrambled towards the elevator, slamming the button for Val’s floor and praying frantically that leaving the angel alone in her room wasn’t a massive mistake.
The doors slid open after what felt like an eternity, and Velvette stepped into the lurid red sitting room beyond.
“Hey Val, sorry to interrupt your important CEO work,” she called, crossing to Val’s office and knocking on the door. When no-one answered, she pushed it open, glancing inside and finding it dark and empty. That’s odd, she thought, turning and looking around thoughtfully. It wasn’t late enough that Val would be asleep already. Had he gone elsewhere in Vee tower to work—?
That’s when she heard it. A loud smack followed by a moan emanating from Val’s bedroom. Velvette felt a flash of anger ignite in her stomach, and for a second she forgot about Lute or why she was even up here in the first place. Stomping back across the sitting room, Velvette thrust out a hand. The closed bedroom door flew open against the sudden gust of glittering purple magic.
The lights were dim and the air was heavy with the sweet scent of Val’s aphrodisiac-laced smoke. Vox was still hanging on the wall across from the bed, and for once the subtitle bar at the bottom of his screen was empty. He wore an expression of dazed shock, his eyes fixed on the two men in front of him—one face-first on the red silk sheets, trousers around his ankles, and the other standing behind him with a black leather-covered paddle raised in preparation for another strike.
“VALENTINO!” Velvette barked, flipping on the lights to make sure she wasn’t just seeing things. “What in the actual FUCK is HE doing back ‘ere?!”
Val froze, the paddle still raised over one shoulder. He turned slowly towards her, a look of guilty surprise plastered across his face. He wasn’t wearing much—a red lacy lingerie set and his favorite black fishnets—and to add insult to injury he still had on the black sparkly cape from earlier. But it wasn’t her friend’s state of undress or even the activity he was obviously engaged in that had Velvette utterly shaken (she’d walked in on Val wearing far less, doing far worse).
It was the fact that the man he appeared to be in the middle of spanking was the radio demon, Alastor.
“SOMEONE FUCKIN’ EXPLAIN!” Velvette demanded. Val opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally managing to form the syllables.
“Vel, babydoll…lo siento...” He used the paddle to nudge Alastor, whose unnaturally-wide smile was somewhat dimmer than usual. “Care to share the reason you’re here, querido?”
“Certainly!” Alastor pushed up on one elbow with a dramatic sigh. “I made a friendly wager with this lovely gentleman and wasn’t clear enough about the…er…terms before shaking on it. Silly me!”
“He lost a bet, and now he’s mine for the night,” Val clarified, smirking at Alastor and then at Vox, who still looked shell-shocked. “Back when he was Vox’s little prisonero, we bet on how long it would take for Vox to start referring to himself as God…Al said a month, I was a little less charitable.”
“I didn’t think ‘yours for the evening’ meant…all of this,” Alastor grumbled, glancing at the paddle. “I assumed you’d just have me running errands—laundry, light tidying, perhaps an assassination or two. I suppose I should have assumed the worst from an overlord with your reputation for degeneracy. Oh well…it is always quite fun to make Vox squirm a little, so there’s a silver lining—“
“SHUT UP! Both of you!”
Velvette squeezed her eyes shut, massaging her temples as she processed what she was hearing. “So you lied to me,” she said finally, fixing Val with an icy stare. “You blew me off because you were busy with ‘important CEO shit’, but in reality you were plannin’ to spend the night making Vox watch you fuck the creepy deer man. Do I have that all correct?”
“Sounds right to me!” Alastor replied cheerily. “Now, if you don’t mind Velvette, I’d really prefer to get this nightmare over with as quickly as fucking possible…”
“Vel, wait, I didn’t mean too—“ Val began, but Velvette held out her hand again, cutting him off.
“We don’t lie to each other, Val. Trust—isn’t that supposed to be our whole fuckin’ thing?”
She turned and left without another word, stomping back through Val’s apartment and riding the elevator back down to her floor. The betrayal and anger were so pervasive that she didn’t even think about Lute until she stepped into her apartment and saw the wide-open closet door and the angel lounging on the huge sectional couch in the center of the room, her nose buried in one of the books from Velvette’s large collection of romantasy novels. Lute was back in her normal clothes—a short grey dress, black leggings, and thigh-high boots. Her wings had rematerialized too. They were spread luxuriously out behind her, and for a second Velvette caught herself wondering how it would feel to run her fingers over those rows of soft, silky-looking feathers.
What the actual fuck. She’s dangerous and she escaped the closet! This is no time to be ogling…
“How the fuck did you get out?” she demanded, forcing an authoritative note into her voice as she approached the couch. Lute looked up from the book—a monster romance about a human girl who falls in love with a 200-year-old basilisk prince—and shrugged nonchalantly.
“It took two minutes to break out of those sad belt restraints and two more minutes to pick the lock on the door. I was a military lieutenant for millennia. Learning to escape from pitiful sinner traps was like…day five of basic training.”
She closed the book, giving it a frown. “I can’t believe you read this trash, Vic. No wonder you’re stuck in Hell for all eternity.”
Velvette stared at her for several seconds before finally letting out an exasperated sigh and dropping onto the couch next to her. She snapped her fingers, creating a purple chain that bound Lute’s ankle to her own.
“Didn’t find your gun then, did you?” Lute asked matter-of-factly, glancing down at her new restraint.
“Until I figure out what to do with you, you ain’t leavin’ my sight, babe,” Velvette replied tiredly.
“I’m not going to run away. I could have while you were gone but…it sounded kind of nice, I guess.”
“What sounded nice?” Velvette sank back into the couch, snapping her fingers to instantly change into comfy sweatpants and a her favorite “Witch Bitch” tshirt.
“Dying,” said Lute simply. “I mean, I figured you’d be too pussy to kill me, and I was right. But part of me kind of hoped…” she drifted off, gazing at Velvette with vacant eyes.
“First of all, I AM going to kill you, just as soon as I get the chance, bitch.” Velvette couldn’t suppress a yawn, and she felt her eyelids growing heavy. “Second of all…why are you so goddamn emo all of a sudden? The Lute I remember was all ‘rawr, kill everyone, rawr’, not this mopey sack of shit.”
“I don’t have a purpose in life anymore. Not after…everything,” said Lute, closing her eyes. The chain between them clinked as she pulled her knees into her chest, and Velvette found herself too tired to even complain about those boots getting dirt on her couch. “But I’m not confessing anything else to a filthy fucking sinner, so don’t ask.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” retorted Velvette. “Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”
Lute didn’t reply, and when Velvette glanced over, she saw that the exorcist was already fast asleep, her head resting on one of the many purple fuzzy throw pillows. Velvette grabbed a pillow of her own and stretched out. She’d have to come up with a more permanent solution for containing Lute, of course, and given Val’s betrayal today she was now determined to handle the situation all on her own without his help or input.
This is good, she thought as she finally started to drift off. This is exactly what I need to prove to the other overlords and everyone else that I’m the one to love and fear…
The last thing Velvette saw before closing her eyes was Lute’s face—calm, peaceful, devoid of any rage or malevolence for once as she slept. Her long eyelashes were fluttering slightly against her angular cheeks, and her pink lips were parted in a tiny “o”.
It’s a damn shame that beauty is wasted on total arseholes.
Notes:
Oh hey look, it’s another fav crack ship of mine, radiomoth ❤️
I love petty nicknames in an enemies to lovers 💕
Yep, that was Kiss Of The Basilisk that Lute was reading, for all you other monster romance readers out there 🐍
Sorry this was a kind of short chapter, next one will be longer and have more plot 🫠
Chapter Text
“Alright everyone, let’s begin.”
The overlords seated around the long table turned, their various side conversations dying down as they regarded Carmilla Carmine. The leader of their loose alliance was standing at the head of the table wearing her usual ballet-inspired uniform and bitchy half-frown.
Velvette twirled a red ringlet between her fingers. The corners of her mouth trended downward as she glanced across the table at Val, who was sitting next to Alastor. Both looked tired—she didn’t care to speculate too deeply about why, though she figured it probably had something to do with the little scene she’d walked in on the night before.
She was still furious with Val for lying to her. The worst part was that if he’d just told the truth originally, she wouldn’t really have minded. She’d have judged the hell out of him, sure (Alastor? Really?). But she’d have accepted the match purely due to its potential to piss off Vox. The lie had been completely pointless, purely to save face, and Val was obviously sorry—he’d been trying to apologize all morning. Velvette wasn’t quite ready to forgive him yet. She’d kept her favorite purple headphones on, pointedly ignoring him as they ate breakfast and rode the limo over to the meeting.
“It looks like everyone is accounted for,” Carmilla was saying, cross checking a list on her phone with the assembled overlords. “Except—Velvette, who is this?”
She gestured to Lute, who was sitting next to Velvette looking completely unrecognizable in a full face of makeup, new outfit, and shoulder-length wavy black wig. Velvette would never admit it to anyone, but she’d fully enjoyed giving the insufferable woman a makeover, especially the part when Lute’s eyes lit up as she first caught sight of herself in the massive vanity mirror. It was clear the angel liked how she looked, despite the excessive grumbling she’d done about “sinful decadence” throughout the whole makeover process. She really did look good too—the black hair particularly suited her, contrasting starkly with her fair complexion. Her simple grey sheath dress accentuated the strong, athletic figure that Velvette had tried not to notice as she magically resized the outfit. Velvette was used to working with stick-skinny models with more or less the same physique—no hourglass figures, no toned muscles, no sturdy thighs that made you wonder what it would be like to bury your head between them…
Velvette was horrified to feel her cheeks growing hot and her heartrate quickening at this train of thought. Snap the fuck out of it. You just haven’t shagged anyone in ages, that’s all…
“This is my new assistant—er—Lucy,” she replied to Carmilla, jerking her head in Lute’s direction. “She’ll be taking notes and, you know…doing assistant shit.”
Carmilla surveyed Lute with an utterly inscrutable expression. Velvette felt her heart thrumming in her chest for an entirely different reason than before—fear. What if Carmilla recognized Lute, jeopardizing her entire plan?
“It’s a pleasure,” Carmilla finally said in that irritating, overly-civil tone of hers. Velvette breathed a sigh of relief as the geriatric bitch moved on to a mundane list of announcements (“Remember, your overlord alliance membership fees are due at the end of the month—no, Alastor, we’ve been over this; you have to pay me in actual money, not in dubious promises of future ‘favors’”). It appeared that for now at least, Velvette’s ruse had succeeded.
The meeting continued on relatively uneventfully for the next half an hour, each overlord giving their usual business update. When Val’s turn came, the moth seemed completely oblivious. He was whispering something to Alastor, the two of them sitting close enough that Velvette was sure they were playing footsie under the table. She wrinkled her nose in disgust—or rather, she tried to, but she had far too much Botox to allow it.
“Valentino—?” Carmilla sounded patiently annoyed, like a tired mother dealing with an unruly toddler.
“Huh—qué?” Val whipped his head around, his heart-shaped glasses slipping down his nose. “Oh, right, business…” He looked thoroughly caught off guard, despite the fact that he’d been to dozens of these meetings before. “Lo siento, pero…can I go next time? I was going to get a presentation together last night but I sort of…ran out of time…”
Alastor let out a sarcastic little ‘ha’, and Velvette rolled her eyes. Val was making not only himself look stupid, but the Vees by extension—Vox had been fucking crazy, but at least he’d always been prepared in situations like this. Velvette pulled out her phone, quickly pulling up a holographic projection of her storage and scrolling past file after file in search of a particular spreadsheet.
“Fair enough, we’ll look forward to VoxTek’s projections next month, then,” Carmilla was saying. She started to turn to Zeezi, who was seated to Valentino’s other side, but Velvette cleared her throat loudly.
“I’ve got the projections for my side of the business.” She flicked a finger to expand the glowing purple spreadsheet, which included a graph showing stable growth quarter over quarter. “I don’t ‘ave a fancy presentation but it’s somethin’ at least.”
“Oh—well, thank you, Velvette,” said Carmilla, raising an eyebrow. Several other overlords looked mildly surprised as well; it appeared they’d underestimated her.
So, business as fuckin’ usual then…
After the meeting adjourned, most of the overlords left immediately, but Carmilla and Zestial lingered at the head of the table in hushed conversation. Gesturing to Lute to stay put, Velvette braced herself for what was sure to be an unpleasant next few minutes before squaring her shoulders and striding over to the two of them.
“Hate to interrupt,” she said, secretly hoping she had interrupted. “But could I have a word, Carmilla?”
“Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Zestial,” Carmilla answered stiffly, crossing her arms over her chest. Zestial took a dainty sip of his tea, and Velvette had to actively swallow the dozen or so old man jokes that popped into her head at the very sight of him.
“Right, fair enough,” she said through gritted teeth, digging the nails of one hand into the palm of the other behind her back. “I’m in need of an angelic steel weapon—ideally a gun, although anythin’ would do, really.”
“Pray tell thine purpose behind this request. Perchance thy desire is to carry on Vox’s doomed scheme?” Zestial prompted, setting down his porcelain cup and regarding her with his four glowing green eyes narrowed.
Velvette frowned, mentally struggling for a second to process the spider’s annoying Olde English way of speaking. “I just—think it’s important to be prepared,” she replied finally. “In case I run into an angel or somethin’. I don’t wanna be caught off guard.”
She heard Lute let out a mirthless little chuckle behind her.
Carmilla tilted her head, studying Velvette for a long moment before—to Velvette’s surprise—nodding in agreement.
“I think making sure you’re prepared is a very wise choice, Velvette. VoxTek could be a target for any remaining exorcists determined to continue Adam’s genocide. Just because we cooperated with the angels once doesn’t mean millennia of contention between our realms is fully resolved.”
She stood, gesturing for Zestial to follow as she headed for the door in the back of the room. “Stop by Carmine Industries Thursday morning at 10. I’ll make sure to have a selection of weapons ready.”
“Er—thanks?” Velvette tilted her head, bemused. She’d never had an interaction with Carmilla that could be considered even remotely pleasant. Velvette had fully anticipated having to use the blackmail material she’d had her followers dig up on Carmilla’s teenage daughters a few months earlier (one of them wrote some extremely embarrassing self-insert RPF about the Seven Sins, and the other liked to share some interesting photos of herself online that would have shocked even Val).
“Oh, and Velvette…” Carmilla paused before leaving, glancing back over her shoulder. “Thank you for coming prepared today. I must say I was impressed.”
“Anytime bitch—er, Carmilla.”
“There you are, babydoll.” Valentino smiled as Velvette climbed into the VoxTek limo a few minutes later, followed by Lute. “What took you so long?”
“None of your business.” Velvette took her customary seat at the back of the cabin, pushing Val’s feet out of the way—he was stretched out across three seats, a glass of champagne dangling from the long fingers of a lower hand.
“I’m still mad at you, you know.”
“Velllll, I’m sorry…I’ve said it a hundred times already!” Val whined. “I’ll never lie to you ever again, lo prometo—“
“I’m not askin’ for that. I’m just askin’ for my best mate to respect me enough to tell the truth about the little things. Even if the truth is embarrassin’ as fuck…Satan’s tits, Valentino…did you really fuck the radio demon last night?”
Val drained the flute of champagne and gestured for his RoboFizz assistant Kitty to pour him another. “It was just to punish Vox, it’s not like…anything serious. ¿Entiendes? I’ll probably never even see him again…well, besides at overlord meetings…and he’s taking me to his tailor later this afternoon…”
“His—what?” Velvette snatched the champagne bottle from Kitty as she passed by, taking a swig before handing it back to the little robot.
“I don’t know, he was talking about tailored suits and…well, he said I’d look good in a custom tailcoat…”
“Well thank Beelzebub you have a best friend who’s a fuckin’ fashion designer, then!”
“Obviously I like your clothes the best, cariña, but…you won’t be mad if I go to this other guy just once…?”
“Betrayal! I was mad at you before, but now I’m fuckin’ furious!”
The two of them continued to bicker all the way back to V tower. By the time they pulled up outside the opulent building, Velvette felt much better—Val was an idiot, sure, but he really hadn’t meant to hurt her. She let him help her out of the car, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze as they waited for Kitty and Lute to follow them in.
“Who’s this lovely creature?” Val asked, apparently noticing Lute for the first time despite the fact that she’d just attended the same meeting the Vees had. He reached over, tracing a thumb along the angel’s angular cheekbone. Lute’s expression immediately darkened, and it looked like it was taking all of her self restraint to not bite the finger off. Velvette felt a sudden burst of something—jealousy?—flare to life inside her, and she grabbed Val’s upper arm, steering him out of Lute’s vicinity.
“Stop fondlin’ my new assistant,” she chided sharply. “We wouldn’t want Alastor gettin’ jealous, now, would we?”
“Shut up, bitch.” Val gave Velvette a playful swat, but mercifully didn’t try anything else with Lute as the four of them approached the main elevator.
“I gotta run,” said Val, bending nearly in half to kiss both of Velvette’s cheeks. “Oh—would you mind feeding Shok.wav for me? ¿Por favor? I don’t wanna be late…”
Velvette rolled her eyes but nodded, leading Lute into the elevator and pressing the button for Vox’s security level.
“He doesn’t do shit around here, does he?” Lute said once they were alone, casting a glance back in Val’s direction. Her face was still shadowed with lingering dislike.
“He does…things,” replied Velvette. “But only things he wants to do…when he wants to do them…”
“Sounds just about as fucking useless as my new boss,” said Lute, blowing a lock of black hair out of her eyes and crossing her arms. “Abel. Nepo baby—got the job I deserved simply because Adam was his dad. And of course Sera wouldn’t stand up for me, the annoying bitch. She’s a real piece of work, same vibes as that pointy-haired chick who was leading the meeting, actually. All she and Abel want to do is sit around with their thumbs up their asses; I’m the only one who ever tries to take action.”
“They sound like real arseholes—“ Velvette started, then realized she was empathizing with an angel and quickly backpedaled. “—but I’m glad they didn’t let you ‘take action’ or me and everyone else down ‘ere would be fuckin’ dead. Now stop yappin’ and go grab the chum bucket from that fridge over there—I don’t wanna get blood on my new dress.”
They’d entered Vox’s main surveillance room, the one where he used to spend the bulk of his time spying on anything and everyone within camera range. The massive array of screens was surrounded by a huge circular tank that spanned several floors of the tower. A handful of small mecha sharks swam around lazily in the murky blue water, their lights bathing the room in a faint red glow.
“There’s a ladder over in the corner—“ Velvette started, but Lute was already rising into the air, the large chum bucket in one hand and her wings flapping magnificently behind her. She flew to the top of the tank and tipped the contents of the bucket into the water, watching as the bloody chunks of meat—some still vaguely in the shape of limbs—cascaded slowly downward.
“Last month’s bottom performers,” Velvette explained with a little smirk, nodding towards the mess. Lute chuckled, returning to the ground and looking on with admiration as the massive form of Shok.wav loomed into view. All the other sharks scattered in his presence, and Vox’s pet gave Velvette and Lute a many-toothed grin before swallowing the remainder of the chum in a single gulp.
“There’s so much badass shit in Hell,” commented Lute, voice full of awe. “All the animals in heaven are cute and harmless and boring as fuck. Adam always said I’d like it down here…”
Velvette felt the questions swimming to the forefront of her mind once again as she watched the other woman—Why are you here? Why stay in heaven if you clearly hate it there? Why are the two of us so fucking similar? Once again, she bit her tongue, turning towards the door so Lute didn’t see the conflicting emotions that were surely visible on her face.
“Let’s go, babe. We don’t have all fuckin’ day.”
“Whatever you say, Vic. You’re the boss, after all.”
They shared Velvette’s king-sized bed that night, their ankles chained together again with glowing purple magic. It made more sense than the couch, Velvette reasoned—she never slept well on couches, and her beauty sleep was immensely important to her.
Usually she had no issue drifting off, but that night she found herself scrolling mindlessly on her phone for at least an hour, trying not to glance over at the exorcist snoozing away beside her—the kind of gorgeous, kind of funny, kind of hard-to-hate exorcist who’d made an excellent fake assistant during Velvette’s shoot earlier. Most assistants she’d had in the past were too timid, cowering and groveling whenever she yelled at them and barely able to keep all the models in line. Lute, however, took no shit from anyone—she’d had twenty models dressed and lined up with military precision in a quarter of the time it usually took. She’d actually taken pretty good notes in the meeting earlier as well, filling several pages in the notebook Velvette had given her as part of her disguise. She’d also doodled a highly unflattering drawing of Carmilla, which granted her extra brownie points by Velvette’s estimation.
Remember who she is and what she’s done, the overlord reminded herself. This is your chance to fix everything. Don’t fuck it all up now.
Her plan was to execute Lute during her usual Friday night livestream—it was the perfect chance to redeem herself to her audience and generate some serious hype. She’d already made several posts teasing that something big was coming. The stage was set. Now all Velvette needed to do was not be a pussy, to prove Lute and everyone else wrong…
Her internal pep talk was interrupted by a strange sound coming from Lute’s side of the bed. At first Velvette thought the other woman was just snoring, but then she noticed the slight trembles wracking her body and realized she was quietly sobbing. Lute was facing away from Velvette, her wings wrapped around herself like a blanket. When Velvette reached out and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, she found the feathers just as soft and silken as she’d imagined they would be.
“For fuck’s sake, babe,” Velvette murmured into the darkness, trying not to sound as concerned as she felt. “Either tell me what’s the matter or go the fuck to sleep.”
Lute didn’t say anything for several moments, sobbing even harder than before. Velvette had just resigned herself to the fact that the angel wasn’t going to talk when Lute finally spoke, her voice soft and quivering with emotion.
“I don’t know who I am anymore. Here I am in Hell, surrounded by the very abominations I swore to kill, barely caring if I live or die…I came down here to find him, but now I don’t even know if I want him to see me like this.”
“Who?” Velvette felt a pang of curiosity that was too strong to quash. Without even realizing it, she’d scooted closer to Lute, her hand beginning to massage small, comforting circles between the angel’s shoulder blades.
“Adam,” said Lute. “I know, I know…you probably think he was a…”
“Total and complete jackass?” Velvette supplied with a grimace. “Honestly babe…you’re hung up on that wanker?”
“No one knew him like I did.” Lute sounded so deeply sad that Velvette found herself actually listening as she explained how Adam had believed in her, how he’d seen her potential back when she was just an exorcist grunt who didn’t fit in with most of the happy-go-lucky crowd that dominated Heaven. He’d promoted her despite others’ protests that she was too inexperienced and too brutal, helping her hone her skills until she was his perfect lieutenant and most trusted advisor. Velvette couldn’t help but be reminded of her feelings towards Vox, but she kept her thoughts to herself, allowing Lute to finish her story.
“Sure, he had his…faults,” the angel admitted, tucking her wings more tightly around herself. “But he was always there for me in a way that no one else has ever been or will ever be again. That’s why I feel so disloyal—for questioning it…all of it…and for staying here long after I should have left.”
”You came down here to find Adam?” Velvette prompted. She was painfully aware of how close they were, their bodies separated by mere inches, and when Lute arched her back into Velvette’s chest the overlord found herself not shying away from the contact.
“Yes,” confirmed Lute quietly. “I don’t know if he even ended up here, or anywhere…but I needed to at least try. I’ve visited all the places he used to go when he visited Hell—he loved live music, loved partying…”
“Oh I’m sure he did.” Velvette rolled her eyes. She’d had limited interactions with Adam, mostly only seeing him from afar during extermination lockdowns in V tower, but his reputation for being a complete asshole was well-known throughout Hell. Despite Lute’s claims of what he’d done for her, Velvette found it hard to believe that someone so strong and capable would have high regard for such a dickhead. She felt a pang of the same uncomfortable feelings she’d experienced earlier when Val had touched Lute—jealousy and an urge to protect. Against all logic, she realized that she hated seeing Lute unhappy.
“Well, if I’m killin’ ya anyways, might as well help you find ‘im first,” she heard herself saying out loud.
“What?” Lute rolled over to face her, her teary eyes wide with surprise.
“I’ll help you find Adam, if he’s in Hell,” repeated Velvette. “Don’t make it a bigger deal than it needs to be; this doesn’t change anythin’—“
Lute’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her into the warm cocoon of silken wings.
“Thank you, Velvette,” she whispered into the darkness. “Just…thank you.”
They stayed like that, pressed together, for a long moment before both seemed to simultaneously realize what they were doing and separated quickly. They bid each other goodnight, awkwardly avoiding eye contact and scooting as far apart as they could on the bed. But as Velvette finally closed her eyes, she let herself indulge in it for a second—how good it had felt, wrapped in those warm, enemy arms.
Notes:
Okay here’s my hot take…Lute is Heaven’s Velvette in the same way that Emily is Heaven’s Charlie 📣
Valastor has been upgraded to a secondary ship of this fic now apparently…?
Sorry this chapter took longer. I rewrote it like 5 times and moved a few things around, plus my kid is sick so writing time was limited 😭
Chapter 4: No Remedy
Notes:
Hi guys 👋 I added a tag for it, but I wanted to call out that it’s very lightly implied in this chapter that Velvette has an eating disorder, in case that’s a trigger for anyone.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Don’t lie to me, Vic. This is your first time, isn’t it?”
“No…it’s not…my first fuckin’ time…it’s just different from…what I’m used to…”
Lute grinned devilishly. She was thoroughly enjoying the sight of Velvette spread out beneath her—ragged breath, sweaty skin, wild eyes. She leaned low, much lower than was strictly necessary, until her hips brushed the overlord’s lilac afro and her bare midriff hung inches above Velvette’s flushed face.
“Alright, then,” she murmured into the muggy air between them. “Prove it. Prove to me that sinners aren’t a bunch of weak pussies.”
Velvette let out a positively pornographic grunt of exertion as she extended her arms, pushing the weighted bar shakily up to its full height. The angel reached down, expertly guiding the bar back onto the rack before Velvette dropped it on herself.
“Fuck,” muttered Velvette, her breath still coming in gasps as she closed her eyes. “You really do this shit every single day in Heaven?”
“I only bench three times a week,” replied Lute. “But of course I work out every day. Unlike some people, apparently…”
She looked around, surveying the massive, state-of-the-art gym, which occupied nearly an entire floor of V Tower. It was full of every type of exercise equipment one could imagine, from racks to yoga balls to kettle bells, most of which looked suspiciously unused.
“I fuckin’ told you, I do a Helloton spin class every night before bed.” Velvette sat up on the bench with some difficulty, refusing to look at Lute as she reached up to fluff her wig. “Satan is my favorite instructor; his HIIT rides kick my arse but I’m ALWAYS top of the leaderboard. Plus, I did a fashion collab with ‘em last year—their best sellin’ collection to date, I’ll have you know!”
“Oh, is that what I’m wearing?” Lute glanced down at her lurid magenta leggings and matching sports bra, neither of which provided much support for her rather sizable assets.
Velvette nodded, standing and giving herself an appraising look in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. She pulled out her phone, snapping several pictures as she posed in various suggestive positions. She was in a Helloton-branded set as well—black-and-white tiger striped biker shorts and a matching top—and she’d applied a full face of makeup for some reason. Lute chuckled and shook her head, leaving the overlord to her preening. She retrieved several plates, setting up for her own bench warmup. Soon, she’d fully settled in to the familiar high of a solid workout.
When Lute had inquired whether V Tower had a gym earlier that morning, she hadn’t had high hopes. She’d woken up silently cursing her lapse the night before; it had been a mistake, crying and babbling on about her darkest secrets to a sinner of all people. Exercise had always been Lute’s refuge, the one thing that restored her equilibrium and self-confidence, so she’d breached the topic over breakfast.
“Of course we have a fuckin’ gym,” Velvette had snapped. “Do I look like I don’t work out, babe?”
“You look like you don’t eat.”
Lute had glanced down at Velvette’s untouched açaí bowl. She’d already downed two bowls of her own, plus a heaping plate of bacon and scrambled eggs. She had to begrudgingly acknowledge that food at V Tower was tasty as fuck—the creepy moth man’s robotic assistant had turned out to be an accomplished chef and could whip up pretty much anything you wanted at all hours of the day or night.
Velvette had fixed Lute with an argumentative stare. She’d raised a bite of blended purple berries to her mouth and chewed deliberately. Lute hadn’t been able to stop her gaze from snagging on those full lips, on the way the smooth skin rippled over Velvette’s delicate throat as she swallowed.
Over the past few days since arriving at V Tower, Lute had eventually admitted to herself that she found the sinner attractive—but it was natural to be physically attracted to people you found otherwise deplorable…wasn’t it?
“Well, I suppose we do ‘ave time to kill before my first meeting,” Velvette had mused, wiping her mouth with a napkin and pushing the açaí bowl towards Lute. “We can work out, then spend some time plannin’ for the search tonight. I already picked out our outfits, of course, and I made a list of some of places we could check out…”
Lute had nodded absently, a grin playing on her lips as she’d continued studying Velvette’s face. Despite the circumstances—she was going to be executed on something called a “livestream” in less than two day’s time—Lute felt oddly better than she’d felt in months. Maybe it was the food, maybe it was the break from all her stressful Heavenly responsibilities…or maybe it was all the fun she was having teasing her captor. For someone as confident and competent as Velvette obviously was, she was extremely easily flustered, and Lute took every opportunity she could to get under the overlord’s skin. She’d spent too much time around Adam to not be a bit of a jackass.
Plus, angry Velvette was just really fucking adorable.
“Are you going to actually work out or just keep taking pictures of yourself?” Lute called over to Velvette as she finished her last bench set and moved to the deadlift platform.
“Shut up. I gotta make a reel…” Velvette was sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat, typing away furiously on her phone.
“Reel…?” Lute gripped the bar and let out a short puff of breath as she executed her first rep with impeccable form.
“Yeah—wait, do you not have social media in Heaven?” Velvette sounded positively aghast.
“We do…”
Lute crossed the room to join Velvette on the yoga mat. She unlocked her own phone, tapping a blue-and-white app depicting wings and a halo, before turning the screen towards the sinner.
“It’s just a bunch of boring, wholesome shit.” Velvette frowned as her eyes flicked over a video of a baby pangolin befriending a baby capybara that Abel had reposted that morning. “Where’s all the drama? The gossip? The sexy selfies that make everyone else feel like shit about themselves?” She shook her head mournfully. “Checks out that you holier-than-thou pricks wouldn’t understand the whole point of social media. Only good shit I saw on there was your username. DangerTits69…I gotta hand it to you, babe. You ate with that one.”
“Thanks.”
Lute grinned outwardly, but she felt a pang of melancholy course through her as the memory replayed in her head.
“Awesome job, Danger Tits. Pound it.”
The old nickname was yet another reminder of him—like “babe”, like the black lieutenant’s halo that she’d worn as faithfully as a wedding ring since the day he’d granted it to her. Besides her moment of weakness the night before, Lute had managed to mostly ignore the complicated tangle of feelings she had for Adam ever since meeting Velvette. But now they were creeping back up again, consuming her blissful post-workout mood with a familiar dark shadow of despair.
“I’m gonna shower,” she said, standing and turning away quickly so Velvette didn’t see the look on her face. The overlord cocked her head, obviously a bit surprised at the abrupt change of topic, but then she nodded and pointed towards a door at the far end of the room.
“Washroom’s over there. Promise me you won’t escape out the window if I don’t go in with you, alright?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Lute was already walking briskly towards the door, not stopping until she was alone in one of the large shower stalls. She closed her eyes as the hot water washed over her face, trying to suppress the building panic attack that was threatening to drown out her sanity. More memories played unbidden before her mind’s eye—Adam laughing obnoxiously after telling a stupid joke, the way he looked fighting and killing beside her, his lifeless eyes staring up at a red sky as golden blood soaked into her dress.
“Pathetic.”
It started as a faint whisper, but by the time she was out of the shower, the all-too-familiar voice had grown in volume until it echoed all around her. Lute braced shaking hands on the vanity counter, raising her eyes slowly to the mirror.
He was there behind her of course, exorcist helmet on and mouth twisted into a mocking grin.
“Holy fuckin’ shit, babe. Look at you…you’re a goddamn mess.” Adam drifted forward until he was inches behind her. “I thought you were my top bitch…thought you had what it took to avenge me. Apparently I was wrong, and you know I fucking hate being wrong.”
“I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you—“ Lute started, but Adam kept talking, ignoring her as he leaned forward until his mouth was inches from her ear. She felt herself subconsciously falling back into him, her body tingling with the familiar longing she’d always denied and suppressed until it was far too late.
“You’re fucking pathetic. I never should have trusted you. I never should have trusted anyone but myself.”
Tears were streaming down Lute’s cheeks and she started to feel lightheaded. She stumbled over to a bench, sinking on to it with her face in her hands. Her wings wrapped around herself like they always did when she was this miserable.
“You’re supposed to be destroying sinners. Not flirting with them,” Adam accused.
“I’m not flirting—“
“Don’t fucking argue with me, bitch!”
Lute let out a garbled sob, shame coursing through her.
“I’ll find you,” she murmured into the silence. “I’ll find you, and we’ll finish what we started, together.”
“Don’t let me down again. It’ll be the last time if you do…I don’t fuck with pathetic losers. Just winners. Are you still a winner, Lute?”
Lute nodded, rocking silently back and forth on the edge of the bench. She ran fingers over the cold metal of her prosthetic arm, trying desperately to stoke the dwindling fire of vengeance that used to drive her.
If you love him, you’ll avenge him.
She’d said it herself: her rage was terminal. There was no remedy but to burn down Hell and every sinner in it—no chance of happiness with someone else, not even the release of death. She’d been a fool to even start to think otherwise.
When Lute opened her watery eyes, Adam was nowhere to be seen. She clenched her fists and stood, dressing in her disguise with military efficiency and striding out of the locker room. Velvette was rolling up her yoga mat, and she turned with concern in her eyes as Lute passed her on the way towards the exit.
“Who were you talkin’ to in there—?”
“It’s none of your fucking business. I’ll see you at the meeting in an hour,” Lute snapped, slamming the door behind her and stomping down the hall towards the elevator.
She didn’t look back at Velvette, because she knew if she did, it would crack the foundation of her already fragile resolve.
Lute spent the rest of the afternoon playing the perfect assistant—taking notes in meetings about fashion trends and social media campaigns and all manner of other boring bullshit. Velvette tried to ask what was wrong several times throughout the day, and Lute responded with a terse “I’m fine” every time. By evening, the awkward silence between them was palpable. Velvette didn’t meet her eyes as she handed Lute a neatly-folded pile of black clothing.
“Here’s your outfit. We’ll be visitin’ several of Val’s clubs, and we have to look the part.”
Lute glanced down at the slinky minidress and thigh-high stilettos, scowling in distaste but accepting the outfit. Whatever it took to find Adam, she’d be willing to do. Velvette, for her part, looked absolutely stunning in a sequined red bodysuit and fur-trimmed cape. Little gold skulls adorned her voluminous purple wig, matching her dangling earrings and choker. Lute tried not to look, tried not to think the traitorous thoughts that popped in to her mind. She stiffly donned her own disguise in the privacy of the closet and followed Velvette down to the lobby, which was dark and empty at this late hour.
Dark and empty, that is, until they passed a shadowy alcove and a lamp flipped on, revealing a tall demon wearing a red tailcoat and a creepy smile. Alastor was seated on a white leather sofa, a bowl of some kind of steaming stew in one hand and a spoon in the other.
“Ah! Good evening, you two. Lovely out, isn’t it? Well, lovely for Hell, at least…”
“Alastor! W-why the fuck are you here…?” Velvette stepped forward, shielding Lute with her body as she did.
“Oh, don’t mind little old me. I’m just having a snack to restore my strength after another tedious…rendezvous…with Valentino. I lost another friendly wager, I fear, so I was under his power once again…”
“At what point are you two just going to admit that you’re datin’?” Velvette crossed her arms, smirking slightly as she regarded the other sinner.
“Dating—ha! No. Never…” Alastor said breezily, taking a dainty bite of his stew and washing it down with suspiciously viscous red liquid from a goblet on the side table. “But I’ll keep hanging around for as long as Kitty keeps making this jambalaya! Absolutely delightful…you two simply must try it!”
“Right, maybe some other time.” Velvette took a step towards the door. “Lucy and I are goin’ out. We’ll see you later, I suppose—“
“Lucy…hmm, curious, I seem to recall her name being something slightly different…Lola, or maybe Lacey? Ah! Now I remember. Lute, wasn’t it?”
Velvette froze, her eyes flicking nervously between Alastor and Lute.
“What are you gettin’ on about? I just hired Lucy earlier this week…you’ve never met her before the overlord meetin’—“
Alastor set down his bowl, rising up to a height that was even taller than Lute remembered him being. The lamp behind him flickered, and the sound of static that seemed to follow the radio demon everywhere he went intensified. A slightly battered staff topped with a microphone materialized in one of his hands as ominous, antlered shadows began stretching across the room towards the two women. Lute crouched slightly, instinctually adopting a combat stance.
“You both seem to have forgotten that yours truly was there during the last extermination, when you and your little army paid a visit to a certain hotel,” Alastor said, his smile stretching wider as his glowing red eyes trained on Lute. “I never forget a face. Especially not that of an exorcist.”
“Fuck off, Alastor,” Velvette growled. “Lute is my captive. I’m handlin’ the situation, alright? No need to mention this to Val or anyone else for that matter…”
“Oh I have no doubt that you are. You’re the only one around here who isn’t a complete idiot, after all. But I don’t keep secrets for free…”
“What do you want?” Velvette’s voice dripped with dislike.
“Barely anything, really.” Alastor was standing between them and the door now, his right hand outstretched towards Velvette. “I was just hoping you’d consider a simple deal…”
Notes:
No hate to Peloton, okay? Love me some Peloton…
I really love Lute POV, it turns out. So much juicy angst 😭
Chapter Text
“So…tell me again, why is he coming with us?”
Lute glanced over her shoulder at Alastor, who was strolling along down the sidewalk several paces behind she and Velvette. His staff was in one hand and he wore a contented grin on his face.
“Ugh. He was gonna out us—you—unless I let him tag along, so I made a deal with ‘im. It’s a demon thing,” explained Velvette, rolling her eyes. “He said he was just bored and…I dunno, hopefully he won’t be a giant pain in the arse.”
“He better not be.” Lute narrowed her eyes at Alastor, but his smile just widened. “Where are we going, anyway? You said it’s one of Valentino’s…establishments?”
“Right! You said you’ve tried all of Zeezi’s places already, so I asked Val this mornin’ which of his clubs he thinks attracts the most dickheads, and he recommended this one!”
Lute frowned. “I’ve literally been looking for Adam for months. I doubt we’re going to find him at the first place we check…”
“Gotta start somewhere, eh babe?”
They rounded a corner and a black brick building with a neon sign depicting an eye and the words “Eye Candy” came into view. There was a flight of marble steps leading up to the door, which was guarded by a rather muscular imp with large striped horns and a cocky expression.
“Welcome to Eye Candy. I’m Chad,” he said as the trio approached, dipping his head in a suggestion of a bow. “Right this way, sir.”
Alastor proceeded in the direction he indicated, disappearing through the door into the dimly-lit foyer beyond. When Lute and Velvette tried to follow, Chad stepped swiftly in front of them, blocking their path.
“Oh, I’m sorry…I simply can’t let you two in. You see, this is a gentlemen’s club. We only allow men. Well, men and hot women who will contribute to the general atmosphere.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” demanded Velvette, puffing out her chest and raising herself up to her full—albeit rather diminutive—height. “You work for Val, yes?”
“Ah, yes…” said Chad, somewhat dreamily. “Valentino. One can only aspire to his level of business acumen, sexual conquest, and alpha male excellence.”
Velvette rolled her eyes. “Right. Well that explains a lot. Listen here, Brad—or whatever the fuck you name was. If you work for Val you work for me. I’m Velvette, the other Vee.”
“I only remember Valentino and Vox,” mused Chad, looking rather confused. “You say there’s a third one named—?”
“Velvette,” Velvette repeated. “Now, kindly step aside; you’re taking up my associate and my precious time…”
“Hmmm. No. Rules are rules,” said Chad with a shrug. “Maybe I could let you in if you were a little hotter…or, if the two of you had good chemistry. Our patrons love watching a little girl-on-girl action, after all.”
The disgust and annoyance that had been brewing inside Lute since the moment Chad started speaking began to boil over. She took a threatening step forward so she was towering over Chad, fixing him with her fiercest stare.
“I’d be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, bitch,” she said, voice dangerously low. “I’m not known for my patience.”
“Are you threatening me?” Chad demanded, puffing out his chest indignantly. “We have security, you know—“
“Lute, stop. For fuck’s sake….just—come ‘ere.”
Lute let out a little gasp of surprise as Velvette grabbed her shoulder, spinning her abruptly so the two of them were facing each other. She had only an instant to take in the look of resolve in the overlord’s eyes before they fluttered shut.
“What the fuck are you—?”
Lute was cut off as Velvette went up on her tiptoes, closing the distance between them. The kiss was awkward at first; their noses bumped together and their lipstick smeared. A soft hand touched Lute’s cheek, guiding her face into a better position, and they were full-on making out before Lute had even totally grasped what was happening. The fire of her rage was still burning, stoked by the irritating bouncer and this whole fucked up situation, but as the kiss fell into a passionate rhythm the heat inside her started to morph into something primal and a little desperate. Lute’s hands fell to the dip of Velvette’s waist, and Velvette arched her back in response, crushing their bodies together until they were separated only by thin layers of fabric and sequins. Velvette nibbled Lute’s bottom lip with sharp incisors, and Lute couldn’t suppress the low, needy moan that was unlike any sound she’d ever made. She felt rather than saw Velvette’s smirk.
For seconds that felt like hours, it was just the two of them—wrapped up in each other, both forgetting entirely that they were putting on a performance to gain entry into this shitty sex club. Then, Chad cleared his throat loudly, and the spell was broken. The two women broke apart, panting slightly and avoiding eye contact.
“Ugh. You’re holding up the line,” Chad complained. “I suppose you can go in. You two might have a modicum of chemistry. Like…I’d maybe give it a 3/10.”
“I’d give YOU a 3 out of 10, cunt!” Velvette barked as Lute grabbed her, dragging her past the imp in the direction Alastor had gone.
“Make sure not to kill the vibe!” Chad’s irritating voice called after them.
“What the actual fuck was that?” Lute hissed as she escorted Velvette through the dimly-lit foyer and down a long hallway. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was acutely aware of the place where Velvette’s flesh touched hers as she tightened her grip on the other woman’s wrist.
“It was the fastest way to get us in, obviously.” Velvette was still refusing to meet Lute’s gaze, but she didn’t wrench her arm away as they continued down the hall towards a black mahogany door. “Tell me I’m wrong. Your approach of fuckin’ him up, while it would have been immensely satisfyin’, would have certainly gotten us perma-banned.”
“Whatever. You always have to be right, don’t you, Vic?”
“I don’t have to be. I just am. It’s a fact. Now are we gonna look for your boyfriend or are you just gonna keep bitchin’ all night?”
A butler opened the door for them with a flourishing bow, and the two women suddenly found themselves in a large, circular room littered with black leather sofas and surrounded with curtained-off alcoves. Women in various barely-there outfits flitted about like exotic birds—serving men drinks, giggling foolishly at whatever they were saying, and perching playfully on their laps. On a recessed dance floor at the center of the room, several couples—and thruples—swayed together to slow jazz. A heavy scent of spice and patchouli hung in the air, and Lute wrinkled her nose, fighting the urge to cough.
“If he’s here, he’s probably in one of those,” Velvette muttered, pointing at one of the alcoves. Faint moans and other sounds of pleasure emanated from behind the heavy black velvet curtain, and Lute cringed.
“I don’t want to interrupt him. If he’s…being intimate with someone.”
“‘Intimate’? You sound like a fucking virgin.” Velvette grinned mischievously. “Was that your first kiss back there, babe?”
“Fuck off. Just because I’m an angel doesn’t mean I’m a virgin—“
“Shh!” Velvette reached over to clap a hand over Lute’s mouth. “Stop with the angel talk. You’ll draw unwanted attention.”
“We already are…”
Lute glanced around at the other patrons, several of whom were watching them argue with suspicious frowns.
“We must be ‘killing the vibe’, as Chad would say.”
“Alright then,” said Velvette with a sigh. She reached down, lacing her fingers through Lute’s and leading her out onto the dance floor. The pianist—Alastor, Lute suddenly noticed—was playing a languid, sensual tune, and the other couples around them were dancing even closer than before. Their forms shifted and blended together in the dim mood lighting so it was hard to tell where one body ended and another began. Lute gulped. They certainly didn’t have places like this in Heaven.
“If you don’t want to catch him in the act, I guess we’ll just have to wait ‘im out for a bit.”
Velvette’s eyes were hooded as she reached up to drape her arms over Lute’s shoulders. Lute’s fingers caressed the skin above the low-cut back of that red sparkly bodysuit as she took Velvette’s waist once again. The two of them swayed to the music, faces falling in and out of shadow as they moved. Lute looked into Velvette’s eyes and saw what she was feeling reflected back—confusion and fear, but also excitement and desire. It was all too much and yet not nearly enough. Her first instinct was to run and hide from this, whatever “this” was, but there was a rebellious part of her that wanted to gather the sinner into her arms and carry her over to one of those alcoves instead. She’d had a few flings over the years with fellow exorcists, and then there’d always been Adam. But her body had never responded the way it had during that kiss, or the way it was now, under the covers of darkness and masquerade.
Velvette was close enough that Lute could smell the sweet, expensive scent of her perfume. The overlord’s plump lips were slightly parted, her dark lipstick still smeared at the corners, and it was the sexiest fucking thing Lute had ever seen. The angel was just about to throw caution to the wind and lean in for a second kiss when she heard a familiar voice behind her—one that made the golden blood freeze in her veins.
“Lute? Wait, no fuckin’ way…is that really you, bitch?”
She let go of Velvette quickly, whirling around to face the three souls who had just entered the room. The pair of women were succubi—tall, curvaceous, and hanging off two of the four arms of the sinner in the center. He was tall, his long black robe emblazoned with an upside-down cross on the front. A double set of translucent wings sprouted from his back, the membranes striated with dark venation. Segmented antennae protruded from unruly brown hair, and golden eyes fixed on Lute from behind an obnoxious pair of purple sunglasses—two large eyes with three smaller ones in between.
It appeared that Adam had ended up in Hell after all.
“…Anyway, then I took her back to my place and played the guitar for her—Hell has the coolest fucking guitars, you HAVE to see my collection—and she was SUPER impressed. Obviously, because I’m awesome. So then we fucked for like four hours—I could have kept going, but she totally pussied out. Said she had to go pick up her kid from daycare or some lame ass shit? Whatever. She was hot as fuck though, especially for a mom…”
Velvette cleared her throat loudly, her mouth pulled into a severe frown and her arms crossed over her chest. Adam had taken them to a private room—apparently he was some kind of Eye Candy VIP member—and he was currently sprawled out on the massive four-poster bed in the center. He’d been regaling Lute and Velvette for the past half an hour with tales of his time in Hell, pausing only to take loud, slurping sips from the large tiki mug a server had brought him. Lute was used to this—you just had to wait until he tired himself out, which usually happened around the 45 minute mark. But Velvette was obviously losing her patience.
“And what exactly is the point of boring us with all of this rubbish?” she asked, rising from the armchair she’d been sitting in and stalking slowly towards the bed. Adam looked momentarily confused—he clearly wasn’t used to anyone questioning his reasoning—and he gave Lute a look as if to say “Who the fuck is this again?”
“I’m just sharing about my weekend. No need to be a bitch.”
He gave Velvette a once over, all five of his eyes scanning slowly up and down her body. He’d explained earlier that his sinner form was a cockroach (“I was obviously hoping to be like a dragon or something badass like that, but did you know that cockroaches are basically the kings of the insect world? Right?! Fucking METAL”).
“Keep your eyes up here, arsehole,” Velvette growled, stopping next to the bed and fixing Adam with a look that dripped with loathing.
“Or else what?” Adam grinned maliciously. “What’s got your panties in a twist? You should smile—you’d actually be kinda hot if you smiled.”
“You little prick—“ Velvette lunged forward, her fists glowing with purple magic, but Lute leapt to her feet and threw herself between the two sinners with a reaction time that only years of military training could instill.
“Velvette, go wait outside,” she commanded harshly, pushing Velvette towards the door before turning towards Adam. “Adam—can we talk? Just the two of us?”
“Of course, babe. But make it quick. I have a threesome to get to…”
Lute sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and cracking her knuckles nervously. Adam took another long slurp of his drink and hummed happily to himself, clearly oblivious to the aura of anxiety surrounding his former lieutenant.
“I looked everywhere for you,” Lute finally began. “Ever since you died…I knew you were out here somewhere.”
“Aww, really?” Adam set down his drink next to the bowl of condoms on the side table before scooting up behind Lute and wrapping her in a tight bear hug. “That’s so fuckin’ cute. I missed you too, Danger Tits.”
Lute leaned back into the familiar warmth of that embrace, letting the realization wash over her—finally, her search was over.
“We can finish what we started. Just the two of us,” she murmured. “We don’t need anyone else. We can avenge your death, kill them all, and then eventually find a way to redeem you. I infiltrated the overlords and went to one of their meetings—they’re just a bunch of idiots, Adam, squabbling over scraps with no real plan on how to rally against us. Vox came the closest, but he’s been neutralized. Now is our time to act, to burn this place down like we always talked about—“
“Shhhhhhhhhhh. Slow your fuckin’ roll, babe.” Adam reached up to place a finger to Lute’s lips, silencing her. He shifted so they were sitting side-by-side on the edge of the bed, taking her hands in two of his and fixing her with a surprisingly serious gaze. “Listen. It’s super sweet that you wanna avenge me and all. Like, totally fucking adorable. But guess what? It turns out that Hell is kind of awesome. Like—the bitches here are wayyyy hotter. And there are no goody-two-shoes cunts like Sera and Emily telling me what I can or can’t do. Of course there’s the occasional sinner who gets all butthurt about the whole extermination thing, but over all I love it here. So—just chill out, okay? No need to get all murdery on my behalf, babe.”
Lute stared at him, the impact of his words taking a while to sink in.
“So you’re saying…everything…we’re just giving up on all of it?” she finally stammered. She felt her hands trembling in his, a cold horror twisting the pit of her stomach as the realization of what this meant smacked her in the face.
Without this…without vengeance…you’re nothing.
“Yeah. But no hard feelings, right?” said Adam cheerily. “We can totally still hang out. I can show you my guitar collection and if you want we can still hook up sometimes—not right now, obviously, but like…next time I’m bored and horny….”
“I fucking LOVED you!” Lute leapt to her feet, her hands clenching in fists at her sides. “I would have done anything for you, Adam. I’ve killed for you. I would have died to protect you too, if I’d been given the chance. And now you’re just going to give it all up—everything that we worked for together?” Her voice grew louder and louder until it was a yell that reverberated off the walls. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to tell me that it was all a waste…that my entire life was a fucking waste…” Tears began streaming down her face, and her voice cracked as emotion took over.
Adam blinked dumbly at her for several long seconds. He obviously hadn’t been expecting this little outburst, and when he finally spoke, his voice was slow and comforting.
”Aww, babe…I get what’s happening. You’re PMS’ing, aren’t you? It’s okay, it’s not your fault you’re so emotional. Do you want a back rub? Mai tai?” He proffered his tiki mug, grinning condescendingly at her.
Lute reached out, smacking the drink out of his hand. It landed on the ground with a crash, the contents soaking into the red shag rug.
“Go fuck yourself,” she hissed, turning towards the door. She was about to stomp out of the room when she heard the crackle of static behind her and turned, taking in the third person who’d suddenly appeared next to the bed. The tall man loomed over Adam, a particularly wicked grin spread across his face and black antlers branching out from between his ears.
“Ah! It’s lovely to see you again, Adam…I thought I might find you, if I tagged along with those two,” said Alastor pleasantly.
Adam opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off with a grunt of surprise as tentacles shot up from the floor beneath him, curling around his arms and legs and pulling him up from the bed. Alastor stepped forward, tipping the sinner’s chin up with the end of his staff so they were eye-to-eye.
“I seem to recall that you broke my staff. Tsk tsk, naughty boy…”
His voice was dangerously gleeful. An eerie green light glowed brightly around he and Adam, and several more tentacles sprouted from the carpet, worming their way around Adam’s ankles and up under his robe.
“Now it’s my turn to break yours.”
“What the fuck? Break my—? Wait, what are you doing—STOP. FUCKING STOP IT! GET OFF OF ME YOU CREEPY BASTARD!! LUTE—HELP ME!”
Lute slammed the door behind her, Adam’s screams and cries for help following her down the hall and out a side door onto the darkened street beyond. She tried to feel something—anger, or sympathy perhaps for her former friend’s obvious misfortune at the hands of the radio demon, but instead all she could muster was a terrible, hollow nothingness.
It’s over. It’s all over…
She stumbled down the street, her high heeled boots slipping and sliding on uneven pavement. She was about to turn a corner when she noticed someone leaning against a building several yards ahead, a vape in one hand and a downcast expression on her face.
“Velvette…”
Lute reached out, but Velvette turned away from her.
“I fuckin’ knew it,” she said, voice flat. “I fucking knew you couldn’t be trusted, babe. The second I’m out of the way you’re plotting with that arsehole, swearing him your undyin’ loyalty—just like I knew you would.”
“No—no, it’s not like that—I might have been loyal to him at one point, but all of that’s over now.”
Lute’s words tumbled from her mouth in a desperate torrent. She tried to take Velvette’s hand, to meet her eye, but the overlord straightened and tucked her vape back into her purse, turning in the direction of V Tower.
“I heard everythin’, you know. That you think we’re all just a bunch of idiots, squabblin’ over scraps—isn’t that how you put it? I left after that…didn’t wanna stick around to hear the reunion sex, I suppose.”
She started to walk away. Lute tried to follow—she so desperately wanted to hold Velvette and tell her the truth: that Adam meant nothing to her anymore, that the only person that mattered to Lute in Heaven or Hell was the sinner who’d somehow really seen her, despite her numerous flaws.
But her feet wouldn’t move. She watched as if in slow motion as Velvette got farther and farther away.
“I thought you were different,” Velvette called back to Lute when she was nearly at the next corner. Her voice was more sad than angry now. “I thought maybe we—oh for fuck’s sake, I dunno. I guess I really am an idiot after all. You angels are all bastards, through and through.”
And then she turned down a side street and was gone. Lute fell to her knees, head in her hands. She sobbed there for a long time, strangers passing her and casting sidelong looks her way as they went about their business. Finally, when the late-night crowds had mostly dissipated, she rose and let out her wings.
You don’t belong here. You don’t belong in Heaven. You don’t belong anywhere…
The voice in her head wasn’t just Adam’s anymore. It was everyone’s now—Velvette’s, Sera’s, the countless unnamed sinners’ whose lives she’d sacrificed to a completely worthless cause. The voice was an amalgamation of everyone Lute had ever let down or disappointed—herself included.
The disgraced angel took to the sky, flying away into burgundy darkness.
Notes:
ADAM DIED LIKE ONE OF NIFFTY’S BUGS SO NOW HE LIVES ON AS ONE 🪳 Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk…
I use Alastor as comic relief in my fics. Maybe someday I’ll write a fic where he’s a serious character but TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY 🥰
Chad probably listens to Joe Rogan and drives a Cyber Truck 👍
Chapter 6: The Only Soul Who’s Ever Completed You
Notes:
Sorry this took forever to post. Life got busy, yada yada…
Anyway, love you guys. I’m having so much fun with this fic, for real 💕
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“There’s no way you should be this triste over a fucking assistant. They’re a dime a dozen, babydoll. What’s really going on?”
Velvette grunted noncommittally, hugging her knees closer and burying her face in the fuzzy purple pillow she had nestled in her lap. Val was sprawled out on her bed next to her, one hand playing idly with the chain connecting his nipple piercings and another holding Velvette’s vape up to his lips. He’d been there for the past two hours, trying—unsuccessfully—to get her to explain her state of complete despondency. The irritating moth had kicked down her locked bedroom door after she’d skipped their long-standing Thursday brunch date. Velvette had initially been annoyed at the intrusion, but she had to admit she was glad Val was there, even if she didn’t feel like talking. Anything was better than spending another minute alone with her dark thoughts.
Alone. She’d never minded being alone before…or had she? Over the years since arriving in Hell, Velvette had built up a busy afterlife full of clothes and runways and social media collabs. But thinking back, there’d always been a deep emptiness behind the glamorous facade—the feeling that it was all just a distraction from the loneliness lurking within her. It had taken finding someone who’d seen her as herself rather than as the girl she presented to the world for Velvette to admit she craved what she’s previously decried as weakness: vulnerability, connection, love.
She’d found someone, and then promptly lost her. Hence the empty pint of chocolate ice cream, pile of used tissues, and streaks of yesterday’s mascara running down her cheeks.
“Hmmm…I’m thinking of doing silver instead of gold when I get my nails done next week…” Val mused, splaying out a hand to inspect his golden claws. “What do you think, cariña?”
Velvette looked up sharply from the pillow, momentarily forgetting her misery in light of this fashion emergency.
“Valentino! It’ll clash with your warm undertone. How many times do I ‘ave to tell you? Stick with gold!”
Val laughed, reaching over to pull her into a tight side hug. “I knew that would get you to talk. Now, tell Papí what’s wrong, hmmm?”
Velvette groaned, struggling to free herself from her friend’s many arms. “Fuck you! Why won’t ya just let me wallow in peace?”
“If it were the other way around, would you let me eat my weight in junk food and sulk in bed for days wearing…that?” Val gestured at Velvette’s baggy sweatpants and chocolate-stained T-shirt disdainfully.
“Well no, but—“
“Sí, sí…eso es lo que pensé.”
Velvette sighed loudly, reaching up to massage her temples. She could feel her resolve weakening as she finally met Val’s gaze and saw the genuine concern there. It would be nice to share at least part of the truth…
“Alright, fine. My assistant…she and I were a thing. Kind of.”
“Right. I mean, obviously you two were hooking up,” said Val. “That’s the main purpose of assistants, sí?”
“Um—no? The main purpose of assistants is to assist. With work.” Velvette frowned at him. “Wait, do you and Kitty…?”
Val just smirked.
“Gross. I shouldn’t’ve even asked,” Velvette grumbled. “Anyway, no. It wasn’t a hookup thing. It was somethin’ more…or at least it seemed like it might be turnin’ into somethin’ more…”
“Ooooh! You like like her?” Val rolled onto his stomach and propped his chin up on his hands. “You never like like anyone! ¡Qué emocionante!”
Velvette felt a little thrill of warmth in her chest at his reaction. She’d always avoided any real romantic attachment in the past, opting for short flings and one night stands. It was exciting to admit that she’d actually developed feelings for someone for once in her afterlife. Not that admitting it changed anything about…well, anything.
“The problem is, she’s a fuckin’ terrible person,” she said with another sigh. “I shouldn’t like ‘er. In fact, I should fuckin’ hate the bitch. She’s done a lotta awful shit—“
“Ummm, so have you,” Val pointed out. “You’re in Hell for a reason, querida. We all are.”
Velvette opened and closed her mouth a few times. She hadn’t thought about it that way before, but he wasn’t wrong, exactly.
“If she’s so awful, why do you even like her?” Val prompted.
“She’s funny. And kinda badass, like she doesn’t take shit from anyone. And physically she’s my type…”
“A muscle mommy?” Val nodded understandingly.
“A—what?”
“Muscle mommy. My eyes are shitty, but not that shitty. I saw those biceps.”
Velvette blushed, offering a tiny nod of affirmation.
“Most of all, we just ‘ave a lot in common. She just gets it, I dunno.”
“¿Cómo es?”
Velvette fixed him with a rueful smile. “I mean, she understands what it’s like to not be taken seriously, no matter what. What it’s like to be the backbone of the goddamn organization and not get any recognition for it. Stuff you could never really understand.”
Val nodded slowly, looking a bit confused. The implication of what she’d been insinuating seemed to have gone over his head, unsurprisingly.
“But she’s gone now, and I doubt I’ll ever see ‘er again,” Velvette continued, turning away from him to gaze out her floor-to-ceiling window. “I helped her find ‘er ex the other night and I think they’re back together, based on a conversation I overheard. And even if they aren’t, I doubt she’ll come back ‘ere since I kinda sorta maybe threatened to kill ‘er a couple times…”
“Girrrrlll what?! How did I miss all this fuckin’ drama!?” Val demanded.
“Because you’ve been so busy torturing me recently, my dear.”
Alastor faded into view with a crackle of static, sitting cross-legged on the bed with his staff balanced neatly across his lap. Val squealed in delight, pushing the staff aside and resting his head in its place. Velvette let out an exasperated sigh. She was just opening her mouth to tell this newest intruder to fuck off, but the sight of he and her best friend together gave her pause. It was oddly sweet and domestic—Alastor was only slightly grimacing as he gave Val’s head a few stiff pats, and Val sighed in contentment, blowing a heart-shaped smoke ring directly up into the radio demon’s face.
“For fuck’s sake, Val. He’s just using you for Kitty’s jambalaya,” Velvette teased.
“Sí, por supuesto,” Val said dreamily. “And I’m just using him to piss off Vox. We’re perfect together, aren’t we?”
“You’re mistaken, you know,” Alastor said to Velvette. His head was cocked to the side as he tried unsuccessfully to dodge a second smoke ring.
“About the jambalaya? You literally told me—“
“No, no…about your little friend from the other night,” he corrected her. He always saved that annoying, sing-song tone for when he had information that someone else didn’t; it usually made Velvette’s blood boil, but today she just sat up straight and stared at him, heart immediately racing in her chest.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice level. “Spit it out, you bastard.”
“Tsk tsk. No need for such harsh language.”
Velvette leaned forward threateningly. Alastor’s grin just widened.
“When I arrived, ‘Lucy’ was just storming out. She seemed fairly unimpressed with whatever she and Adam had just been discussing. And then, while he and I were…catching up…she never returned. Not even when he rather vocally begged for her assistance.”
“Alastor…what the fuck did you do to him?” Velvette felt a thrill of delighted horror in the pit of her stomach.
“He and I simply had some unfinished business,” replied Alastor, a fond look in his eye. “Don’t worry, he isn’t dead…I simply adjusted his hubris a little.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? Or like, immediately after it fuckin’ happened?!” Velvette scrambled off the bed, her burgundy beehive wig nearly toppling from her head in her haste.
“Why does no one tell me anything about anything?” Valentino whined. He clutched Alastor’s hand, watching as Velvette snapped her fingers to instantly change into a purple velour sweatsuit and matching sneakers. “Aren’t I supposed to be in charge around here?”
“You are…technically,” Alastor reassured, gently attempting to extricate his hand from the clingy moth.
Velvette gave her appearance a swift check in one of her many mirrors on her way to the empty doorway (the splintered door was leaning against the wall from when Val had kicked it in earlier). She wasn’t sure where she was going, exactly. All she knew was that Lute was out there somewhere, likely in an even more fragile state than she’d been prior to the meeting with Adam. Velvette prayed she wasn’t too late—that Lute hadn’t returned to Heaven, or worse, given in to her feelings of abject worthlessness and made good on her desire to die…
Velvette shook her head, pressing the elevator button for the lobby. Don’t think like that, she chided herself. She was fortunately the most stubborn person she knew, so if Lute was still in Hell—or anywhere, for that matter—Velvette was going to fucking find her.
“I said NO SUGAR! Satan’s tits, this is fuckin’ undrinkable!”
Velvette launched the plastic cup across the counter, nailing the cyclops barista squarely in her singular eye. Green liquid soaked the unfortunate soul’s outfit, and she nearly slipped on the puddle of matcha and tapioca balls pooling at her feet.
“Make it right next time, bitch!” barked Velvette as she flounced over to a table by the window, plopping down into a chair with an exasperated grunt.
Five hours. She’d been searching for Lute for five hours without any luck, checking everywhere she could think of from Klub Kaiju to Eye Candy, with a whole host of 24-hour gyms in between. She wasn’t even close to ready to give up yet, of course, but she’d stopped at her favorite boba place for a little pick-me-up and to get out of the scream rain for a little while. Humidity always ruined her makeup and frizzed up her wigs.
Velvette was staring daggers in the direction of the flustered barista when the bell above the door rang and a trio of familiar demonesses entered the cafe.
“Oh—hello, Velvette,” Carmilla said, reaching up to lower the hood of her black-and-white raincoat. Kind of a cute raincoat, Velvette thought, annoyed that it was true.
“Did you still need those angelic weapons?” Carmilla gestured for her two daughters, Odette and Clara, to go ahead and order. Velvette nodded cordially to the younger sinners as they passed her on their way to the counter. She’d actually ended up binging one of Odette’s fanfictions the night before while she couldn’t sleep—not many people could write Lucifer/Satan smut with that level of diabolical finesse. Velvette had developed a begrudging sort of respect for the author, despite the fact that she’d left the fic on an unforgivable cliffhanger during an almost year-long hiatus.
“Oh! I’m sorry I forgot to stop by and pick ‘em up—I’ve been a little busy the past few days…” Velvette said to Carmilla.
“Totally understandable. I’m sure keeping VoxTek single-handedly afloat is no easy task. I’ll have Odette drop them off later today.”
Good, maybe I can bully ‘er into updating the damn story then, thought Velvette.
“I mean…Val helps too, sometimes,” she said, getting to her feet and snatching her (hopefully sugar-free) matcha from the barista. The poor woman was holding it out with two shaking hands like a sacrifice to a wrathful deity.
“Somehow I doubt that.” Carmilla commented with a wry smile. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, Velvette. But for what it’s worth, I support you.”
“Support me…?” Velvette blinked several times, utterly confused.
“In your bid to be the new VoxTek CEO.” Carmilla’s voice was completely serious. She accepted the boring-looking cup of hot tea Clara handed her and took a ladylike sip. “If you need help ousting that fool Valentino, just let me know. Here’s my contact details.” She handed Velvette a crisp ivory business card before turning and ushering her family out onto the rainy street.
As Velvette finished her matcha and struck back out on her search, she couldn’t help but mull over what Carmilla had said. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about being VoxTek CEO. Everyone, herself included, had just kind of assumed that Val would take over after Vox’s fall from grace. When Val had been invited on 666 News so Katie Killjoy could make the announcement, Velvette had simply taken his measurements for a new zebra-print jacket and gone about her day. But why had he gotten the job, when she was the one attending stakeholder meetings, drawing up quarterly roadmaps, running marketing campaigns, and choosing underperformers to feed to Shok.wav?
By the time she arrived back at V Tower around midnight, a resolve to take action had built up inside Velvette. She was grateful for the distraction from what had unfortunately been a fruitless search so far. Not that she’d give up, not that she’d ever give up, but in the meantime she knew the steps she needed to take to restore her confidence and better her afterlife.
Val was still curled up in Velvette’s room watching reruns of The Secret Lives of Satatnist Wives and scrolling on his phone. He dangled his head over the side of the bed, gazing at her upside down as she entered through the (still doorless) doorway. Velvette coughed, crossing the room to open a window so that the cloud of cloying pink smoke hanging around the room could begin to dissipate.
“Hola, chica. Did you find her—?” Val’s voice was slow and lazy from hours of chain smoking.
Velvette grabbed her vanity chair, pulling it over to the bed so she could face Val.
“Not yet. Sit up, babe. I wanna talk to you about somethin’.”
Every muscle in Lute’s body ached, and not in a good way like the day after a solid workout. She’d been flying aimlessly all night and into the morning, soaring through the subliminal pergatory of clouds that spanned the divide between Heaven and Hell. This space had always been hers—a peaceful refuge where she could go to clear her head and get away from the cheery monotony of day-to-day Heavenly existence. But tonight, Lute’s refuge had become a prison. Every minute staring down at the blanket of cloud cover rushing by was a reminder that she didn’t belong below, just as she’d never belonged above. Her thirst for vengeance over Adam’s death had been the last vestige of a dying faith, and now even that was gone, leaving her with no attachment to Heaven. But she couldn’t opt to stay in Hell either. Not after Velvette had rejected her. Not with all the blood on her hands. In those dark hours Lute felt so entirely alone—like no one in any realm could relate to her situation or help her find a brighter path.
But there are others like you…
The thought popped suddenly into her head, and she felt her weight shifting almost subconsciously as she redirected her flight path. She didn’t stop to consider the possible consequences of returning to this particular location. All Lute knew was that she desperately needed advice, and she was the only one who might possibly be able to offer it.
The Hazbin Hotel looked different from the last time Lute had been there. Clearly Charlie and her band of idealistic do-gooders had put their hearts and souls into rebuilding the place after the last extermination—it was larger and even more of an eyesore than before, with a slew of clashing neon signage and what looked like a ship protruding from one side. It was quiet and peaceful at this early hour, and Lute didn’t see anyone outside. She’d just touched down in front of the obnoxiously large dragon statue that graced the front promenade when she heard the familiar rustle of wings that indicated someone else had landed behind her. Lute closed her eyes, resisting the urge to fight as the cold tip of an angelic spear pricked her throat.
“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Vaggi asked, voice dangerously low.
Fifteen minutes later, the two angels sat across from each other at the lobby bar. Vaggi was still obviously on edge, her single eye narrowed suspiciously as she studied her former superior officer. She clearly didn’t buy Lute’s claim that she was just here to talk, and Lute didn’t miss how she kept her spear within arm’s reach and continuously shot it sidelong glances.
“You look different.” Vaggi nodded towards Lute’s black wig, which was mussed and tangled from hours of flying.
“I’m trying something new,” replied Lute stiffly. She opened her mouth to say something else, to get to the point of why she’d really come here, but the words felt like they were getting tangled up inside her.
Maybe coming here was a stupid idea after all…
“It suits you,” said Vaggi slowly. She let out a sigh. “I have to admit, this is really fucking weird. I guess I just figured that every time I saw you, you’d always be trying to…”
“Kill you?” Lute interjected. “Yeah…that was kind of my whole thing for a while, wasn’t it?”
“And now it’s not…?”
“Now it’s not.”
Lute met the other angel’s gaze with utter sincerity. She had no hostility left—nothing but deep remorse and a desire to be understood.
“First of all, I’m sorry.” Her voice quivered under the weight of emotion. “I’m sorry for taking your eye and banishing you down here, and I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you and your friends since then. I know I can never right all the wrongs I’ve committed, but for what it’s worth, I deeply regret all of it.”
Vaggi looked away, her expression conflicted. For a second Lute thought she might get up and storm away, but then she met Lute’s eyes again, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips.
“You and Adam certainly did stir up a lot of bullshit…but as for banishing me to Hell, it allowed me to meet the love of my life, so in a way I should actually be thanking you.”
Lute smiled shyly back. She paused for several seconds as she gathered the courage to ask what was on her mind.
“How did you do it?” she finally inquired. “How did you let yourself find peace and happiness down here? How do you sleep at night, knowing what you’ve done?”
“Fuck, Lute,” Vaggi chuckled. “Heavy questions for 5 AM.” She reached under the bar, grabbing a couple of glasses and a bottle of navy strength gin.
“You shouldn’t drink when you’re on watch. I taught you better than that,” Lute teased as she accepted her drink and held it out. Vaggi clinked her glass against it, flashing a rebellious grin as both of them downed their shots.
“It’s not easy sometimes,” she admitted. “There are nights when I can’t sleep, days where I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. But then I remember that I’m not the same soul that I was back when I was Adam’s. I’m making my own decisions now and fighting my own battles. I have people who rely on me and whose lives are better because I’m around. I choose to use my strength to protect them, and in that purpose I also find happiness for myself. Does that make sense?”
Lute nodded slowly. She wasn’t sure whether it was the strong alcohol or the conversation that had sparked this warmth inside her. Maybe it was both.
“Your princess…she knows everything now, and she still accepts you?” she continued.
Vaggi nodded. “It took awhile, but we got there. I should have been honest with Charlie from the beginning, so it was kind of messy when you and Adam finally outed me. But she loves me and I love her, and in the end that was enough.”
The two of them sat together in silence for a while. Vaggi poured them each a second drink, and Lute sipped hers this time, enjoying the slight unpleasantness of the fiery liquid as it burned its way down her throat. They didn’t have shit like this in Heaven—there was alcohol, sure, but only in the form of sweet cocktails and fruity wine coolers that barely gave Lute a buzz. Hell was rougher around the edges, just like she was. She knew she’d never be as noble and pure-hearted as Vaggi, but maybe there was a way to forge her own path here; to start a new life, one that she could be proud of.
Lute reached up, pulling off her messy wig to reveal the silver hair and black halo underneath. She hesitated for only a second before removing the halo from where it levitated above her head. The otherworldly glow around it immediately faded, leaving only a dull black ring with the extra-long spike affixed at its center—a hard-earned symbol of her previous position of authority. Lute set her jaw with resolve, then stood and offered it to Vaggi.
“Do whatever you want with this. I won’t be needing it anymore.”
Vaggi accepted the halo, studying it for a moment with thoughtful reverence. Then, she promptly snapped it in two, and then in four. Lute gasped as the other angel gleefully dropped the pieces to the ground and used the heel of her boot to grind them into a pile of dust. Vaggi whistled as she rounded the bar and crossed to a supply closet, grabbing a dust pan and broom.
As the remnants of what had long been her pride and joy were swept up and tossed into the waste bin, Lute felt a wild, indescribable sense of freedom ignite inside her. She started to chuckle, and then to laugh harder and harder until tears were rolling down her cheeks and her already-sore abdominal muscles felt like they were going to seize up. Vaggi laughed too, slamming the lid down on the waste bin with a satisfying clang.
“Good fucking riddance,” she said. “Now, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you ever need a place to stay…”
Lute shook her head quickly.
“Nah. Thanks though. To be blunt, I still think this whole hotel thing is a bunch of goody-two-shoes nonsense,” she replied. “But I promise not to cause you any trouble from now on. I wish you well, Vaggi.”
“I wish you well too, bitch.” Vaggi shook her head fondly, standing to walk Lute to the door. “I gotta say…of all the exorcists, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the fallen angel type. What got you to finally see through Adam’s bullshit?”
“Let’s just say it’s less of a ‘what’ and more of a ‘who’.”
At 7 PM sharp on Friday evening, Velvette clipped her phone into her ring light stand and hit the “Live” button in the corner of the screen. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, still wearing her comfy velour tracksuit and minimal makeup. It was the most casual she’d ever looked for a livestream, but tonight it felt right—authentic in a way she’d seldom been with her audience. As the viewer counter started ticking up, the overlord drew in a deep breath and smiled somewhat sadly at the camera.
“‘Ello bitches,” she began. “So…I know you lot are expecting’ somethin’ big. And I do ‘ave some news to share, although it isn’t what I’d originally planned.” She sat up a little straighter and squared her shoulders. “As of Monday, I’m takin’ over as VoxTek CEO. Valentino will still oversee the entertainment side of the business, of course. But I’ll be in charge of, well…everythin’ else.”
The comments and reactions were already pouring in, but Velvette hit a button to hide them. She’d look later. But for tonight she just couldn’t muster the courage to face the rejection and ridicule that surely awaited her.
“I’m sorry if I don’t sound that excited,” she continued. “I dunno…I guess it’s just been a lot recently…”
Velvette proceeded to open up about her recent feelings of self doubt and her struggle to rebound after Vox’s failure. She admitted that she’d been wrong to trust him; she even apologized on behalf of the Vees for the crisis that had barely been averted. Finally, she found herself talking about the thing that was weighing down her soul the most these past couple of days.
“I met someone,” she said. “We were opposites in a lotta ways, but…I think we woulda been really good together. Of course, I fucked it all up, and now I’ll probably never see ‘er again—“
“Are you sure about that?”
Velvette froze, then spun, taking in the woman leaning casually against the frame of the balcony door. Lute looked different—her natural cropped hair appeared to have been dyed black, and the halo was missing from her head. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders were hunched with obvious weariness, but her mouth was twisted into that smug, teasing grin that Velvette had come to adore. Velvette gave her audience a hasty wave before ending the stream, springing to her feet and leaping over the couch to throw herself into Lute’s waiting arms.
“I’m really tired, you know,” commented the angel. Despite the claim, she lifted Velvette easily, hands sliding up the overlord’s thighs as she walked slowly in the direction of the bed. “And shouldn’t we talk first—?”
“I’m in charge ‘ere…” Velvette murmured, lips pressed to the other woman’s ear. A delicious shiver ran down her spine as Lute palmed her ass with a cold, metallic hand. “…and I think we can talk after, babe.”
“Mmm. Whatever you say, Vic.”
Notes:
Headcanon is that Velvette learned Spanish so she and Val can make fun of Vox in front of him and he fucking hates it 👍
Alastor being extremely anti-PDA and Val being VERY into PDA is just ~chef’s kiss~
Next chapter is smut chapter buckle up girls and gays 💕
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