Chapter Text
He was seething in rage, one that had been building up in years in him until he couldn’t bottle it up anymore. And Vox didn’t want to keep it for himself, was tired of suffering alone.
If he couldn’t be happy, then none of them would be. He was bringing them all down with him, and he couldn’t give a damn care about it.
They got what they deserved, for making everything go to shit, for ruining Vox’s big plan.
He was surrounded by hundreds of sinners, crying for help, praying for a mercy that wouldn’t come. Vox paid them no mind, they didn’t even exist in his eyes.
No, there was only one person that mattered. It was all for him, to finally watch this damn smile vanish from his face.
All because of this selfish asshole.
“You know what?! HAHA! FUCK HELL, FUCK HEAVEN, AND FUCK ALL OF YOU. As long as I wipe that smile off Alastor's fucking face... I DON’T CARE WHAT HAPPENS,” he shouted, pouring his rage at the world.
But it wasn’t the only thing pouring, he could feel goddamn tears running down his face. Vox hated it, hated them, hated Alastor.
He had to ruin everything, just because of his stupid ego. Because he was too fucking proud to accept a buisness partner.
Heck, worse, because he couldn’t accept that yes, friends existed in hell.
Too bad, it didn't matter anymore. It wasn’t a question to prove otherwise to the radio demon, it was all about to see him crumble. To watch the despair on his face as he realized it was over, for him, for Hell.
And yet, as he screamed, as the laser was about to wipe them all down, he was still smiling. Always fucking smiling.
“STOP IT, FUCK STOP SMILING, DO YOU EVEN FEEL FUCKING ANYTHING?” Vox broke down, hating how his voice almost sounded pleading.
God, he wanted to sob, to put himself in a ball and disappear from here. He wanted Alastor to disappear.
The demon didn’t do anything. He standed still, staring at him as if Vox was merely a child throwing a tantrum, unimpressed.
He saw from the corner of his eyes Valentino and Velvette coming his way. He didn’t want to hear what they had to say, didn’t care if it killed them all.
He was about to throw another fit of curse, shoot his wires towards his nemesis, and tear this smile to shreds. But then a gasp escaped his mouth and his body felt too hot, too heavy.
His breath fastened until it was unable to fill his nonexistent lungs with air. He blinked in confusion but his sight remained blurry because of the tears.
Something was wrong, something was really wrong with him! Why couldn’t he breathe, why was he so hot, why did his legs feel so weak?
Drool, spit, saliva ran down his chin as he hyperventilated, trying to force some air inside his stupid body. People were probably calling him but if it was the case, he couldn’t hear it.
Even his own screen wasn’t working correctly, his vision disappearing and coming back, changing colors to its own want.
He knew he was screaming, letting out startled gasps and they definitely glitched. An even smaller part of him knew he was being observed right now, every sinner in Hell witnessed whatever was happening to him.
But Vox didn’t give a fuck, he was too panicked, too angry.
He wanted it to stop, he still wanted to see Alastor lying in his own blood. He wished none of this ever happened, he wished they all died in agony.
Then it hit him, a lighting of lucidity in this storm of confusion.
The heat, his fucking heat.
Something he hated as soon as it manifested in him when he ended up in Hell. A whole fucking new gender that had never existed on earth, and that he had been bestowed upon when him he died.
A fucking omega was what they called it.
A curse, a disease he couldn’t rid off. And those fucking heats that would make his body burn, yearning for an embrace while his mind was still clear, fighting against his instincts.
They were always random, for Vox, someone who loved to have a schedule for everything, his heat had been the only thing that never followed his plan. And it appeared now, like the last nail in the coffin, here to end him once and for all.
“Fuck, no, NO!” he screamed, pulling on the side of his head.
He needed to get rid of his body, to keep only his head intact. Then he would be able to act, not clouded by the warmth flooding inside him.
He could feel it, the slick running down his legs, he needed to tear them apart. The laser, he needed to obliterate this useless shell he was given as he died.
Vox knew he wasn’t thinking right, that he was being influenced by all of this, his heat, his panic attack, the mess of this situation. And mostly, his rage.
It always came to it, the rage.
Vox was spiraling around, and the only thing he could think of was how angry he was. How humiliated, desperate and fucking yearning he was.
Another gasp, louder than the other one. His legs gave out, failing him too, deeming him unworthy. Everyone betrayed him, even his own body. He refused to, he would betray them first.
He expected to reach the floor, to taste the dust in his mouth. None of this came, something wrapped around him, covering his sight until he was blinded by red and purple.
And then there was the soft silk touching his skin, and the unwanted relief. Someone caught him and any will left Vox’s body.
He was just a limpless corpse, panting like a dog, his body screaming for more touch, for pleasure.
His mind cried for some peace, for a silence, that if it could, would last forever.
He was granted neither of it, because Vincent Whiteman was this kind of loser. He never got what he wanted in the end.
In the face of defeat, there was nothing left to do. And maybe it was it, maybe there was nothing to do in the first place. Never had been.
He was cradled in arms and it brought him no comfort. Soft words were whispered to his ear, it would have reached him as much as if he had been deaf.
A hand pressed against his lower back, he let out a whimper, his pheromones spreading further.
“Make this end,” he half sobbed, half begged. A caresse. So soft, so underserved.
“Shh, I know, I know, I’ll help you as soon as I can, mi amor,” someone shushed him.
It was a lie, Vox knew it was a lie. It never ended, couldn’t be cured. That was his own curse for getting here. Being as unlucky to be maybe the only one.
“Just let me die,” he demanded, his last plea. An ungracious one, but he couldn’t care even less.
They might all hear, it wasn’t important. Vox wouldn’t be here anymore to hear their laugh, to see their mocking face. They didn't matter anymore. And Vox didn’t either.
“Not yet, Voxxie, not on my watch,” the moth demon replied.
He let out a strangle and broken laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. He couldn’t even be granted a merciless death. What a joke, but what did he expect from Hell after all? This land wore its name well, to his greatest dismay.
Vox let out a heavy sigh, his screen glitching. He was used to being denied what he wanted, he shouldn’t be disappointed.
It still fucking hurt.
~~~~~~
Valentino was used to his babe’s violent outburst. It wasn’t the first time he witnessed it. But as tears showed in his partner’s eyes, he knew it wasn’t like all the other times.
That wasn’t the Vox he came to know, something was happening and it was big.
The shout grew louder, the final resignation in his eyes. And he realized they were all going to die.
Vox didn’t care if none of them survived. Valentino did care, it wasn’t his time yet. Neither was it Velvette or Vox’s time.
The media demon might have pissed him off these past days, going on an ego trip in which his two partners didn’t exist anymore. The moth demon couldn’t bring himself to care when the man he loved looked in so much pain, showing weakness he would never have before.
He glanced worriedly towards the laser, they needed to stop it before it obliterated them all. He needed to get back his Voxxie to reason.
“Babe, calm down, you’re not killing us on a petty revenge!” he shouted, running toward the smaller man.
Velvette followed, of course she did. She was probably even more pissed than him, but in the end they could never abandon their third partner. That was the thing with vees, as much as they fought, they still cared.
“Stop this madness, V, I swear if you kill us all I’m going to haunt you forever!” she screamed with frustration.
But Vox didn’t hear them, or if he did, he had no reactions. Which was even more worrying.
The two vees looked at each other, a single nod to make them agree. They needed to stop Vox no matter what and get out of here as soon as possible. If they flee far away enough, they might be spared by the angelic weapon.
Valentino cursed, if only his Voxxie wasn’t so obsessed with this deer demon, things wouldn’t have gone to shit. He should have killed the fucker while his babe was looking away. Would have spared them all this mess.
They were close, he just needed to extend out his hand and Vox would be in his reach. But of course things had to explode at the right moment. Vox let out a gasp and then electricity coursed all over him.
“Ouch fuck!” Valentino shouted as his leg was half burned by the intensity of the power.
He used his torn wings to push Velvette away, saving her from one nasty shot. He looked down at the man of his life, the one he decided to follow no matter what.
And his eyes widened as he realized what was truly happening. As a beta he couldn’t smell it, but he saw Vox in this situation so many times, and helped him when the smaller one accepted.
He recognized a heat when he saw one.
“Mierda!” he cursed, knowing how bad the situation was.
How dangerous it was for Vox, what could follow. He needed to get the man out of this place now, take him far away where no one could see him.
A single glance around him told him people were already catching up to what was happening. The way their pupils dilated, their mouths watered unconsciously.
He snarled, they would not touch a hair of his man. But if he couldn’t even approach Vox, how was he supposed to save him?
“Hey what’s going on? What’s wrong with him?” Velvette asked him with an urgent tone.
Probably she was stressed by Valentino’s own worry. She didn’t know, of course she didn’t know. Only Val knew about Vox, the only person he trusted with his secret.
The only one worthy to stand at his side.
And yet he was standing there, powerless. There was only one solution, one that would definitely hurt like hell. But it was worth the cost, everything for his Voxxie.
“Don’t let them see him, I’ll be back!” he ordered, not replying to her questions. He would not betray Vox’s trust, would let the man decide if he wanted to tell their third partner his secret. Velvette spluttered, confused and ready to retort.
“Now, Velvette!” Valentino shouted. He would apologize later about how he treated her. Would lend her some money to get her forgiveness.
But now wasn’t the time. The woman groaned before nodding, understanding it was rather urgent. Valentino trusted her, he turned back towards Vox and gritted his teeth.
“Oh you better kiss the shit out of me once we’re done,” he grumbled.
He stepped forward, flinching each time Vox’s electricity zapped him. What would he do for fucking love. As he got closer he was surprised to see that his man’s power was decreasing, slowly feeling more like a mosquito bite rather than being shocked out of his mind.
Which rang more alarms in Valentino’s head.
And then he saw it, when he seemed to fall apart. He caught him before his knee touched the ground. His arms wrapped around his most precious treasure, his lips whispered words of comfort and his wings hid him from the world.
They didn’t deserve to see him like that, such a sight wasn’t made for their eyes.
His hand lowered too much and then a moan escaped from the radio demon’s mouth. Valentino cursed inwardly, he knew how Vox hated when he made this kind of sound, especially in public.
If he could, he would have made everyone around deaf. Instead he worked on covering even more parts of his man, until he was a simple cocoon in his wings.
Vox pleaded, Valentino replied, reassured. He tried his best, used his smooth voice, the one he knew his man always fell for. But it seemed useless right now, deprived of any power.
“Just let me die.”
And this chilled him to the bones.
For once Valentino truly felt fear, the one of losing what he cherished the most. It was worse than the fear of dying itself.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, he had to be strong. He replied something, but to be honest couldn’t really remember what. Vox sobbed louder in his arms and he knew it was really time to leave.
Holding his babe in his arms, Valentino looked back towards Velvette. The woman didn’t really have to distract the sinners, they were all too worried about the laser about to kill them.
Instead she was actually helping them to shut it down, their gaze met, her was full of anger and worry. He waved his arm at her, they were strong enough to deal with it without their help. They needed to take advantage of their distraction to flee, to get Vox in safety.
But then as she was about to join him, the laser started to destroy itself. There was a bright light and a loud sound, Valentino shielded Vox and himself away from it. He waited for a blast that never came.
And when he felt brave enough to look up again, the angelic weapon wasn’t there anymore. Instead a big hole was threatening to get bigger under their feet.
And someone came out from it, of course Valentino knew who it was. The king of Hell, bloodied, battered and yet still alive crawled up to the ground.
His eyes lifted up towards them, Valentino knew it was their last chance to get away. Unwillingly he unwrapped his wings around Vox, making him visible to the world again.
He extended a hand out to Velvette and though he refused to acknowledge it, he knew his expression was a desperate one.
“Velvette!” he shouted.
The woman didn’t even need the rest of his sentence, she jumped to his side, catching his hand. He wrapped two arms around her waist, holding her on his side while Vox was on the other.
And then he flew, back to safety, back to their home.
~~~~~~
What an idiotic moron.
Too stupid to understand, too stubborn to let go.
That had always been the problem with Vox, asking too much from Alastor. Hoping for things that would never happen.
He told him himself, there was no friends in Hell. It was for the foolish one, those who believed it made them stronger. When it actually made them weak.
He asked for Alastor to have feelings which the demon had. Just not the one Vox wanted to see, and it was his problem.
The radio demon wasn’t weak like him, and wasn't letting himself be moved by such feelings. He would have never started crying just because his plan failed, because his enemy again and again refused to acknowledge him.
They might all die, Alastor wouldn't stop smiling. Because everything about this situation was so ridiculous and laughable.
And if a part of him wondered if it was really worth it, if it was what he wanted, he shut it down. He didn’t have time for such useless thoughts.
He stared at the man that he had used to drink with and hang out in a far away past and Alastor convinced himself he felt nothing. He glanced at the angelic weapon, watching it as it was threatening to put an end to their life. When Alastor was finally free, all of this to just die.
He didn’t want to accept it.
But as cheesy as he sounded, he believed in Charlie, knew the princess of Hell would somehow find a way to fix it. It was something that would always remain a mystery. How she managed to put himself in the worst situation and always get out of it, as if she was blessed by some kind of angel.
It sickened him as much as it was convenient.
But first they needed to take down the absolute idiot, to put a stop to his little tantrum.
He watched as the moth pest walked forward, acting as if he was some shining knight in armor coming rescuing his lover. Only to get rejected by this one.
Alastor felt his static fight with Vox’s one and he gritted his teeth. They were stronger than he expected for a man that was all cry and snot. But not once he imagined to back down. He was about to show what was the true extent of his power, what kind of nightmare he was now that he was free from those disgusting contracts.
But he caught the whiff of something in the air. Something he never thought to smell in a place like Hell.
His pupils widened, his ear perked up and he unconsciously searched for the source of it. His eyes scanned his surroundings like the hunter searching for his prey.
Alastor hated his instincts of alpha as much as he couldn’t deny them. There was an omega around and his scent was enticing, looking so tasty. He wanted to get a bite of it. It wasn’t sweet as he thought it would be, it was metallic, strong, old.
It should have disgusted him and instead he was salivating just at the thought of it.
His eyes searched and searched, he wondered if it was some trick of the mind. If he fell under some kind of illusion. A very strong and realistic one.
And then his gaze landed on the last person he thought it would be.
Because he didn’t care, because it was impossible, because he would have known after all these years.
“What,” he blurted out to himself, so surprised that he had to voice it.
He stared at Vox, at the tears keeping on running down his face. He watched how his face showed a kind of light blue and he knew the man was blushing. Though the tv demon didn’t seem aware of it.
And mostly, he noticed how good he smelled.
Alastor liked to think he was rarely taken off guard, that not much could genuinely shock him. Learning Vox, someone he spent years at his side, was an omega definitely wasn’t something he expected.
And he had no idea how to react to this information, he wished he remained indifferent about it. As much as he felt bored by everything that constituted the TV demon.
But he knew it would be a lie, because he was definitely feeling something. Too many things actually.
Belwirement, confusion of not knowing it sooner.
Anger, resentment that the man never told him when he still considered him a good pal.
Hu- No not that, Alastor never got hurt, he wasn’t weak.
Disappointed, yes, it was the word. Disappointed that Vox’s words had all been lied, wanting to be his fucking buisness partner when he never revealed his true gender.
And then the man had wanted to deepen their relationship, what a joke!
Alastor had been right to reject him. But then there was also the possessiveness, the want to own, to claim him.
He would not act on it, he was better than that. He wouldn’t let mere instinct guide his movements, his decisions.
The moth man wrapped himself around Vox, hiding him from his sight. Alastor snarled, he couldn’t help it, he hated being deprived from his prey.
He probably would have done something, attacking the insect demon, tearing his wings into shreds until he could get back what rightly belonged to him, his enemy. To finally get the chance to lend the final blow, to watch as the screen turned off and thus for the last time.
But then Charlie tugged on his sleeve and Alastor refrained himself at the last moment from snapping at her. He whirled his head around and realized the angel Emily had started taking care of the angelic weapon while he was distracted.
“Please, Al, we need your help, we need everyone's help!” she begged. A part of him wanted to slap her hand away, that he had no time for that, that he had something to retrieve.
His most rational part reminded him that if he didn’t, he would probably die here, like all the sinners surrounding him. Not that he cared about them, their life worthed nothing to his eyes. At best they were mere preys he could feast on the flesh.
With Vox’s scent hidden by the moth demon he was less distracted and decided to make the choice that would benefit him in the long term.
“I would have to my dear, unfortunately I need a certain someone to fix my staff!” he announced, grinning as his eyes found Rosie in the dark. Charlie made a worried expression, glancing around her.
“I-I don’t know how to!” she replied, powerless.
Alastor rolled his eyes, he never expected her to do it in the first place. The princess was pretty useless in general anyway. He watched as Rosie came out from the shadows, definitely pissed off and it only made his grin wider.
“Don’t you have any shame? You’re really rotten to the core,” she accused.
It affected him in no ways, it was even flattering. He was a demon, what did she expect?
He extended out his staff, she huffed but complied. And then he was finally to his truth puissance, the most powerful sinner in Hell. Not this pathetic Vox.
He was tempted to glance back toward the demon, to get another glimpse of him. Instead he raised his hands, joining the other overlords, working on sparring themselves from a quick but final death.
He focused on his task, emptying his mind from any unwanted thoughts. All that was leading to the same person.
Not now, not ever.
He saw it, when it got close to exploding. Alastor narrowed his eyes as he shielded himself from getting blind. He took a step backward as the floor gave out under them, catching Nifty by her collar so she wouldn’t get carried away.
And then, as if coming back from the dead, a body emerged from the debris. One that was very unpleasant to look at for Alastor.
The king of Hell was in a pretty bad shape, his golden blood covering his face and body. The radio demon stared at him unimpressed, uncaring of the kind of fate that was deserved to him. Though he was intrigued, as soon as the smell came back, Lucifer’s eyes widened with surprise and Alastor whirled his head on the side.
There, he could see Vox again, his screen entirely glitching, his body arching in the moth’s arms. He gritted his teeth, filthy, he was being touched by something filthy.
He was ashamed to say he realized what was happening too late. An extended hand, a body throwing itself in it. And then three sinners were fleeing away, taking with them Alastor’s source of every trouble, what he was supposed to deal with himself.
Vox was taken away and he felt his antlers grow as his anger increased. He snarled, glaring holes at Valentino. They could run away as much as they wanted, Alastor was the strongest one now, nothing could escape his grasps.
Even less someone who shared the same statics as him.
~~~~~~
Lucifer was having a bad day.
Well, if he was honest he was having a bad day for years now.
Though today might be worse than usual, having his energy drained by some kind of machine was actually not pleasant. At all.
He got his fair share of unlucky events, being banned from heaven being the first one. But getting used as a power source for a weapon was actually a new kind.
He could feel his mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as he was stolen from his own vital essence. He even wondered if it could actually kill him. He doubted it, or more exactly he really hoped it wouldn’t be the case.
He looked up, whatever was happening above him couldn’t be good too. There was his little princess out there, who probably needed his help, that he had to protect no matter what.
Instead he was trapped like a fool here, because he had been too trusting. He sighed, maybe that was why she seemed so reluctant to spend time with him. Because Lucifer always managed to fail everything he did.
No, he shouldn’t think like that. Fuck you depression, he wasn’t going to lament about his own fate.
The intensity of the machine increased and he almost blacked out by the sheer force of it. Maybe it was a good thing if he wasn’t conscious anymore actually, better to not feel the excruciating pain.
He could feel it, something was going wrong with the weapon, building up the power it was taking from him. He might not be the smartest person in Hell but Lucifer knew that it was about to explode.
He would survive, probably, but oh god how it would hurt! But what about the sinner above him, would they? He had no idea if the explosion was directed somewhere or would explode right there, but his targets wouldn't make it out alive.
“Please Charlie, be safe,” he prayed. Everything but his baby.
He tried to pull one last time on his shackles, doing anything he could to stop alimenting the machine. It didn’t budge as he should have expected. As everything shook around him, Lucifer could only watch helplessly the catastrophe that was about to unfold.
He screamed as he felt another sharp pain in his body and then there was light, sounds, and his body was sent flying against crumbled walls. He closed his eyes, using his arms and wings to shield himself as much as he could and tried to reduce the damage on him. Which wasn’t really conclusive, everything ached and his sight was blurry because of his own blood.
The taste in his mouth wasn’t pleasant either and he spat on the side, trying to get rid of it. Though it didn’t work.
Once his mind was slightly clearer, his first instinct was to keep quiet and listen. He looked up, where a huge hole was showing him Hell’s sky.
And then he heard it, her voices, so many voices. Lucifer sighed in relief, she was alright, his wonderful daughter saved her people, again. Weakly, he used his wings to fly, he wanted to join her side, even if she might still be pissed at him.
“Right, can do it,” he coughed as he focused on his simple task. As strong as he was, being drained from his force and then getting caught in an explosion took a heavy toll on his body.
His hand finally gripped the ground and relief seeped in him. But only for a moment.
As soon as he was on the surface, he caught it, the scent.
He frowned, at first thinking it was coming from him. But it wasn’t possible, he rarely had heats and his body didn’t feel hot at all.
He tried to look around, wondering if somehow another angel was in Hell and was going through a heat. But Charlie’s friend was gone and all that was left were sinners. He heard a shout and that was when he noticed him.
His eyebrows shot up, his body flinching with pain, as he stared at the demon resting in mister moth’s arms. The same one who put him in this cage.
“H-how?” he whispered unconsciously.
It didn’t make sense, sinners weren’t supposed to be omega, only angels were. The Almighty makes sure of it as they created gender for the afterlife, alpha were supposed to be down there and the omegas above. As for the beta they belonged on both sides.
Lucifer was convinced that the tv headman wasn’t an angel, he would have known, he always recognised his own. Which meant that somehow a demon had been attributed the wrong gender.
In centuries, Lucifer had been the only one down there. Going through his heats with the help of his wife, and when she left, alone, surrounded by his ducks as he waited for it to pass.
And now there was a second one, someone who knew what it felt like.
It disturbed him more than he thought.
He couldn’t fathom how God managed to make such a mistake, and if it had been on purpose what was the goal of it.
Their eyes met, for a brief second and it awakened things in Lucifer that he hadn’t felt in a while. Even as omega he could feel enticed by another's scent, and it had been so long that he smelled one, he had forgotten how sweet it was.
He didn’t think the media demon recognized him, or even realized that they shared the same gender, he seemed too out of it. With how much his screen was glitching Lucifer wasn’t even sure the man was conscious of his surroundings.
Before he could analyze him more, trying to discover why this sinner in particular hadn’t been gendered a beta or alpha, the moth’s demon caught his another partner and then flew away.
Lucifer blinked, the blood loss making it hard to focus. Yet, this new revelation didn’t want to leave his mind. It was just…so different, too new.
And knowing someone could relate to him in a way felt weird and hopeful at the same time. Though it had to be the same fucker who tried to kill him, which was not cool at all.
Someone tugged on his arm, a hand lifted him up.
“Come on, dad, are you alright?” his daughter asked with worry. He nodded absently, using her to get up, wincing against her side as he pressed on some wounds.
“Y-yeah, I think?” he replied. To be honest he felt like he was about to pass out at any moment. Once home he would take a well deserved nap for sure.
“Let’s get you home…” Charlie mumbled. Her girlfriend, Maggie? Varry? came to help, holding his other side.
As they took him away, his gaze couldn’t look away from where the TV demon had been.