Chapter Text
The fact was, Vox always got what he wanted in the end. This infallibility might as well be an unchanging axiom well-imbued into the fabric of reality itself. The sky of Hell will always be a shitty miasma of red; sharks will always be the best kind of aquatic creatures to have ever graced planet Earth’s briny deep and Vox has always and will continue to be a fucking winner. The only thing he ever failed at was losing. If the choice was either sink or swim, Vox always kept swimming. It didn’t matter who what he had to sacrifice to get there, as long as he was at the top in the end he couldn’t care less.
Heaven took their shot at struggling. A valiant effort, considering all of its citizens were positively lackluster in the art of war compared to all of Hell’s bloodthirsty sinners. Their only real line of defense have only ever been the Exorcists they sent down to Hell every year like some kind of sacrosanct clean up crew. Those soldiers lacked coordination now that Adam had been eradicated in the last attack, they were all scampering without command like some sort of headless chicken. More importantly, Rosie’s army of cannibals must have really did a number on those fuckers, since the quatity of soldiers sent to attack him had diminished by quite the margine by the time Heaven answered his call to war. In a way, he really needed to thank Charlie’s little hotel pet project for that. To think that the Princess of Hell was good for something afterall, Vox never thought that he’d see the day.
No, Heaven did not stand a chance. Not that Vox expected anything less, he had the Might of Lilith blow the hinges straight off those pearly gates after all, courtesy of Lucifer. Heaven went straight into panic mode, sending an army of exterminators which fell almost three days after the sheer number of sinners hungry for angelic ichor overwhelmed the battalion with every single demon armed with angelic steel provided by Carmilla Carmine. The streets were paved with gold after the battle, with the sundry maroon of demons’ blood and corpses sticking out in splatters and clumps. Yeah, it may not have been a wipe out victory— but you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
So what if Valentino got himself killed in one of the battles? If Velvet was merked off by one of the Exorcists when they were mid-argument, something about Vox having way too big of a screen and needing to get his act together.
Vox was a big enough person to admit that he really shouldn’t have made the first move. In his defense, he had already been at the end of his last rope, coping with the sudden loss of his… business partner that he may have electrocuted Velvet a bit. And with Alastor goading them in the corner— he might have lost some composure.
Velvet growled, patting away the tiny flames that scorched the ends of her follicles as her eyes glared daggers at Vox. “Seriously, Vee! You’re fucking off your hideous sixties rockers if you think I’d take that shit from you like some two-bit puppet. You can’t treat me that way or I swear I’m walkin’ out!”
“Ha! Go ahead, leave.” Vox let the television filter seep into his voice. He clenched his fists, schooling his expression back to neutrality. He hadn’t meant to electrocute her, but for a moment he had lost control of his powers and sent a blast straight in her direction. He probably should apologize, but he couldn't stand looking weak in front of Alastor…
Alastor was watching, wasn’t he? He could practically feel the Radio Demon’s gaze on him like a second skin. He’ll show Alastor just how little he relied on ‘other’s powers’. Velvet was nothing. She meant nothing. She can go out on her own, and Vox wasn’t going to stop her because Vox was powerful enough now to take on all of Heaven with nothing and no one but himself. “I don’t need you, Vel. You were just some nobody I picked up off the streets. I can have dozens of workers better and more talented than you knocking on my door by next week!”
“That’s it!” Velvet kicked the coffee table over, the impact causing the glass surface to shatter everywhere. Vox grimaced, he’d have to order another one of those, and with the way every Sinner in Pride is participating in an all out war there was no chance in Hell he’ll be able to get that delivered any time soon. “You’re a fuckup, Vox. And this fucking fossil.” Velvet jabbed a finger at Alastor’s direction, “Was right about you. You’d have no chance in taking on Heaven if it wasn’t for me and Val. And you sure as hell won’t get to rule it if I had any say in the matter!”
“Heh,” Vox’s chuckles broke off into a barren tone, his expression blanking off into the default settings he had for situations just like these. When an associate thinks they could walk all over him simply because Vox didn’t often display acts of authoritative brutality in terms of reining in his partners. No, he had been way too lenient towards the youngest of his team and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass. Alastor was right, he really should have shown the Vees who exactly was in charge more. “Are you threatening me, doll?”
His security feed system told him that Alastor was sliding off behind the desk, rolling his chair away as he evidently sensed the tension in the air. Just to be safe, Vox had the cables wrapped around Alastor tighten and hauled him off to the furthest corner away from him and Velvet. After all, he still needed the Radio Demon to witness his final act of dominance over all creation. Velvet curled her lip when she saw this display and barked out a bemused laugh. “Fuck you.” She emphasized with two steps forward towards Vox. “You bloody selfish, self-aggrandizing, deer-obsessed prick. I’ll see you dead in double Hell, that's what I’ll do!”
Velvet attempted to summon her arrows, only to have Vox grab onto her wrist and send a spurt of undiluted voltage through her before he had the wherewithal to process his actions. They ended up taking their fight outside the relative safety of the tower. Vox hadn’t counted upon Exorcists laying in wait at the time, but one moment Velvet was standing a few feet away from him and next the tip of an angelic spear was salient from her chest.
—That was nothing compared to the amount of exorcists that lost their lives in the tragically short battle. He knew because Vox had made sure to broadcast each and every one of their deaths back to Heaven, ensuring that the beings ‘in charge’ got to see exactly where their misdeeds had led them to and why they should have never crossed the Voice of God.
Vox Populi, Vox Dei.
Needless to say, Heaven caved in pretty soon after that. So did the Ars Goetias, Deadly Sins and the rest of Hell’s hellborn population the moment he had Charlie Morningstar at his feet begging for her dad’s safe return when he finally revealed that Lucifer himself was the one powering his Heaven blazing Weapon, nearly drained out of all his power. The Princess made a deal with him so quickly that he almost wasn’t able to catch the slip of Alastor’s smile. It was only by luck that he did turn his head to stare back at Alastor in that precise moment, and it filled him with so much triumph to see Alastor no longer hold that infamous smile. He was grinning about it all the way back to his tower, Alastor sat next to him in the limo, loosely tied by cables with the look of constipation on his pretty face.
“Don’t look so down, Bambi.” Vox pressed his screen closer, letting Alastor’s breath fog up his smooth protector, whispering the words into Alastor’s sensitive ears, “Try to picture how honourable it would be to die by the hands of God. You don’t get that privilege anywhere else.”
Alastor startled like a deer caught in headlights, then he rolled his eyes and slumped his head against the window sill next to his car seat, noticeably turning his head away from Vox in an act of small defiance. Smile subdued, nothing but a quirk of his lips now on either side. The red light of Hell’s city streets outside percolated through the black tinted windows, casting a shadow over Alastor’s refined features, accentuating the darkness underneath the Radio Demon’s eyes. Vox rubbed one of Alastor’s ears with his claws, caressing the dark tips of the fur gingerly. The motion was uncharacteristically gentle, put into the context of who they were and what had just transpired between them.
He had always loved Alastor’s ears. They were so expressive, in every respect, like the ones’ of a deer. Always showcasing the emotions Alastor so desperately tries to conceal with a smile always plastered on his lips as if a shield. They flatten to Alastor’s skull when he’s upset, perked up and swiveled whenever he’s homicidal or intrigued. They had been the thing he always looked towards for cues and signals to Alastor’s mood back when they were on amicable terms and Vox did his best at attempting to not step over Alastor’s unspoken lines of boundaries. Vox’s smile slowly fell into a line as Alastor gave no reaction to his touch, it was like he wasn’t there at all. He withdrew his hand, tucking his arms against his chest as his brows knitted together in frustration. He kept his tone even at his next sentence, not wanting to show how much Alastor could affect him just by giving him the cold shoulder.
“Better start counting your days, sweetheart. Who knows how long they’ll last.”
Now, he was the motherfucking King of Hell, and Heaven would be under his domain too. He had shown everyone the things he could accomplish with no one at his side and now that those two pesky overlords were dealt with, sooner rather than later, he was ready for his apotheosis. He strolled straight up to Heaven with Alastor in tow. St. Peter and Emily personally greeted him at the front gates, both with frowns on their usually positive dispositions.
“Welcome to Heaven, Mr. Vox.” Emily tried for a smile, but ended up choking back another hiccup as St. Peter flew to the seraphim’s aid concernedly. “It’s hic- great that we managed to come to a peaceful agreement.”
“Mmm, I’m sure you’re glad. You angels should have taken the easy way out when I offered. But,” Vox clasped his hands together, “You’re lucky I am such a benevolent ruler!” Alastor snorted behind him and Vox’s claws dug into the back of his hand. Seriously, now the fucker wanted to react? Not when Vox had exploded the gates of Heaven? Not when he held Alastor’s eyes open and forced him to witness the carnage of sinners tearing into the flesh of angels all in the name of Vox and his empire? Noticing the sudden influx of negative emotion from the standing Overlord of Hell, St. Peter and Emily both shared a mutual look of baffledment.
“Oh, well, um. It’s very nice to finally meet you, Mr. Vox.” Emily continued, not sounding very excited to meet him at all. Vox had better greetings from secretaries he had nailed and subsequently dumped during his days as a mortal. Would it kill the seraphim to not act like he was going to ruin the very cloud he stood on just by being there? “Would you like a tour?” She forced herself to offer.
“I think I’ll manage. I prefer a much more hands-on approach with my new subjects. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.” Vox grinned letting just enough of that lethal sharpness leak back into his amicable tone, “Afterall, I wouldn’t want to leave them in the dark about what I am doing. Unlike a certain seraphim we know… and her less than savoury acts.”
Emily’s fluttering set of wings stilled mid flap and St. Peter steadied her midair before her stumble could lead to a full on fall. “I can see that you’re a very wise ruler already.” St. Peter cut in before Emily could burst out something decidedly unstrategical, like trying to defend her sister to Vox who would only taunt her efforts and bait her into breaking the treaty. “But wouldn’t you at least like to see the tower you requested? We followed your specifications to the T. Emily here actually did all the customisation herself.”
“Yes. That’s true.” Emily nodded when she finally reigned herself in, “We’ve been really looking forward to your arrival.” Vox didn’t need their words to see the obvious silhouette of a neon blue tower protruding out of the clouds at the centre, circled by a sea of gold and white buildings, but appreciated the groveling anyways. “That is very kind for an angel. You really shouldn’t have! And to think, just a few days ago you said ‘a sinner would never be able to rule Heaven’.” He mocked openly, twisting the knife deeper in more ways than one. “Al, are you seeing this?”
The vibrations around Alastor’s signal screeched, and that was the only sign that Alastor even heard his question. He seemed to be making a conscious effort to keep ignoring him.
“Um, hello.” Emily took the brief opening to greet Alastor, clearly concerned for the demon glued to Vox’s side. One of the reasons being that he was tied to a chair right in front of her and seemed to not want to be there at all. Also, his face was tingling a sort of familiarity in her mind— wasn’t he the hotelier at Charlie’s Hotel for Redemption? She floated down in front of him, waving with a more genuine smile on her lips. “Welcome to Heaven, …Al.” She tested, not equipped with the Sinner’s full name.
Vox’s exultant expression immediately turned into a disgruntled frown, glaring at Emily like she had committed some sort of taboo. “Don’t talk to him.” He barrelled towards her threateningly, snatching Alastor by the back of his swivelling chair in an ambulation too quick to catch and Emily backed off immediately with a yeap.
The intimidation tactic was all but lost on the other sinner with him though and Emily gaped when Al began to laugh. “So rude, Vox. The poor girl was only trying to be a polite host. It would do you well to learn some manners from her, don’t you think?”
Vox practically shoved his face inches away from Alastor as he baritone out his words in gritty breaths, “Test me more and see what happens. Hm? You want your death to be more painful then go on right ahead, you fucking
masochist."
“I suppose we’ll have to fucking see, won’t we?” Alastor countered, not skipping a beat.
While normally Emily would be appalled by such strong language, all she felt then was a sense of perplexed wonder at the situation unfolding before her very eyes. How was this… Al brave enough to stand up against Vox tied to a chair when even Emily, a seraphim, was reduced to scraping on her knees trying not to step on his toes lest he bring down his wrath on Heaven’s citizens? And to not back down at all after being threatened with death?
Emily felt like she was blending into the background as the two engaged in a staring match right in front of her and St. Pete. Slowly so as not to break whatever moment the two Sinners were having in front of her, she ducked her head next to St. Peter and she whispered conspiratorially into his ear, “What is going on?”
He answered with a shrug and an uncomfortable smile. Then jerked his head once towards the direction of the gates, darting his eyes repeatedly back and forth in a ‘let’s get out of here’ motion.
She looked back at the two figures still engaged in their silent staring battle and braced herself for some sort of explosion. Surely, Vox wouldn’t take Alastor’s insult lying down? Yet, to her utter amazement, Vox did nothing more than shove the chair away and brush down his shirt with a sneer.
“Tch, brat.”
Wow, she really should ask Charlie about this ‘Al’ person the next time they have their underground meet up. That is of course, if she can get Heaven through its first day under Vox’s regime.
Alastor was a fucker he should have offed decades ago. Or weeks ago. Depending who you were asking. Vox had put it off, like it was some project to be procrastinated over, when Alastor was practically a ticking time bomb nearing explosion with every breath remaining in his lungs. That or he was a bomb wirer. The point was Alastor’s bad news. Something Vox had been putting to the back of his mind until now.
How dare he react only when that seraphim engaged him? Vox was his captor, damn it. Alastor should be high on alert whenever he was around and if he knew what’s best for him respond to whatever Vox had to say. So why? Why is he so damn cold? When Vox has finally won— had taken over Heaven with no one by his side.
Why wasn’t he impressed?
Maybe Vox was wrong, after all the Radio Demon was notoriously hard to read. Alastor had to be impressed now, right? He did it, he had taken over Heaven. Alastor’s life was ticking closer and closer to his private execution. And it will be by Vox’s hands no less.
“Look at me.” Vox demanded, squeezing Alastor’s malleable cheeks between his large claws. He made sure to dig in just enough to sting but not mark. It would be a shame to ruin such fine features after all. Despite his considerate efforts, however, Alastor didn’t automatically roll over and give him the time of day. No, the deer just had to keep being a brat and kept his pupils fixed at a certain spot on the ground. “You want to play hardball?”
Vox sent a jolt of electric power directly into Alastor’s unprepared system, and finally the high and mighty radio demon deigned to set his gaze upon him. “Say it. Say you want me to stop. That I’m the strongest sinner- no, being you’ve ever seen.”
“Even now, you want my approval.” Alastor barked out a series of laughter that tapered off into a fit of coughs. When he finally got his coughing to settle, he lifted his head, hooded eyes looking straight into Vox’s heart. “You’re too much, Vincent! Simply, too much! The fact that you could take over Heaven isn’t proof against your incompetence, you foolish simpleton— just evidence of everyone else’s. You really haven’t changed, have you? Just as pathetic as the day you tried your luck against me.”
Vox kept the smirk on his lips, it was almost frozen on his features now as his eyes darkened, narrowing to something chillier. He shot his hand up to grab a fistful of Alastor’s hair, including those stupid fluffy deer ears into his hold. He didn’t say anything, he felt completely past words by then and sent another bolt of lighting down his hand. Yet, the intended effect did not settle as Alastor only continued laughing.
“You won’t win.” Alastor hoarsely ended off, eyes popping, hair wildly sticking up and curling at the ends due to the recent electric shock. The corner Vox’s lip twitched into a frown, hands flexing against Alastor’s shoulder after he slid them down his neck. “Face it, Vox. This is a temporary arrangement. Do you actually think the rest of Hell will continue to fall in line once they realize just what kind of insatiable devil you are— when all your promises eventually fall through?” Alastor shuffled away from his grip, and almost by instinct, Vox let him go.
“Like you have room to talk.” Vox muttered under his breath while he folded his arms in front of his chest. “They will if they know what’s best for them.”
“You’re not going to kill me.” Alastor declared unflinchingly, a flicker of mania in his eyes. “You need me.”
“Do I?” Vox expurgated any visible emotions, keeping his voice placid. “Look at where we are right now.” He gestured at the golden view of Heaven below them. “You think that little ‘picture box’ could have done this? The man you rejected is dead, and soon you’ll get to join him.”
He snagged Alastor’s hair into his fist again and yanked, ignoring the way the radio demon’s antlers tripled in size as his scleras oscillated between red and black, irises transforming into radio dials. “Say it. Beg for mercy, bitch.”
“You should really make it snappy, Vox.” Alastor cracked his neck tilting his head completely to the side, green stitches showing up on his features as the air around them turned bleak. “Personally? I prefer a lead cocktail to the head, but I’ve always wondered what it’d feel like to be given the chair.”
“Wow.” Vox laughed mirthlessly, letting go of Alastor’s red hair. “You’re really not gonna gimme a break, are you?”
“Don’t blow a gasket over it, old pal.” Alastor canted in the chair, dipping to rest his legs on the backrest. “You’re becoming such a drag.”
Vox grumbled, “We’ll see about that.”
There was a brief pause, the silence in the eye of a hurricane. They stared back at one another for a moment, Vox was the first to avert his gaze.
A cough, “Well, goodbye forever. I guess.” He muttered, inching a hand closer to Alastor as a wire cord swung free from the ceiling, lowering down in front of them.
“I am not going out by asphyxiation, Vincent.” Alastor snided, showing his first signs of resistance. “It’s pedantic and overdone. Certainly a bit Freudian as well, think of the implications!”
“What implications?” Vox choked, even though, if anyone should be choking right now it certainly shouldn’t be him.
“Only the most obvious one, my oh-so-depravious friend!” Alastor exclaimed.
“Ughhhh, fine. You’re such a fucking picky bitch, Al.” Despite his tone, Vox switched the cable out for something more conductive. “Looks like you’ll be getting your wish after all.”
Four shocks and one anticlimactic death later, Alastor’s body laid deathly still in the middle of the room with Vox pacing in front of it listlessly. His eyes fluctuated between the ground and Alastor’s unstirring body, then he kicked the chair Alastor was sitting in frustratedly sending it crashing into his newly minted office desk.
He had thought- Well, some part of him had believed that if Alastor were gone. That the feelings he had for the deer demon would follow him into the abyss or whatever afterlife existed after the afterlife. But now, it was like something had gone amiss, and there was a hollow ache inside his stomach.
And after all of it, he still wanted… Alastor’s approval. Something he had never gotten even up to the radio demon’s demise.
Vox glared at his palms. He didn’t need the bastard’s approval, he tried telling himself but the thought rang hollow and he grimaced the moment he had allowed himself to deny it.
Because deep down Vox knew: whatever he did, whoever he was— All he ever wanted was Alastor’s approval.
And now the man’s dead, so what’s the point-
Fuck it. Who was he kidding? He’s god, damn it, he shouldn’t have to settle for less!
And there was no one here to judge him. No Velvet to curse him out nor Valentino to placate with sweet nothings. He was completely and utterly alone. Just the way he liked it. And if he wanted Alastor to be there alone with him, then that’s no one else’s business but his.
Normally, a sinner can’t be killed by any means other than angelic steel. And certainly, if it was anyone besides him doing the killing, Alastor wouldn’t have been lifeless for so long, five hours going on six by now, his internal clock reminded him. But Charlie’s deal with him had catapulted him into a status beyond the run of the mill Overlord, compound that with a full approval rating as a boost and it wasn’t hyperbole when he called himself a ‘God’. He could annihilate anybody he wanted and also-
He hadn’t tested that part of his powers yet, but his system did send him a notification when that part of his upgrade finished loading. Now was as good of a time as any.
He took a deep breath, lugging Alastor’s lethargic body back to him with a quick wave of his hand, twining the wires around the hydraulic stem. He slapped his hands onto Alastor’s chest and discharged a brand-new spark into him.
He frowned when nothing happened. Maybe he had been too hasty-
A gasp.
Alastor’s eyes snapped back open with an electric blue glow.