Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was rare for sinners to be summoned to earth, but it did happen once in a decade and usually only to powerful Overlords. 

This wasn’t the first time that Alastor had been summoned, not even the second time since his connections to nature and voodoo magic made him a prime target for humans hoping for actual magic to help them get whatever stupid task they think they need a demon for done. 

The Radio Demon hummed at the mess he had left behind in the basement of whatever poor saps house he had been summoned into. Some stupid teenagers had just been reading off of a guide they had found online but they had messed up the butchered Latin they had found so badly that they had somehow managed to loop back to actual Latin and had been able to summon a demon without an actual task that they could give him. 

Much to their dismay, because Alastor had just been about to go hunting in the streets of Hell for his next cannibalistic meal, yet actual untainted humans were so much better. 

The deer chuckled evilly to himself and made sure to dip a hand in one of the blood puddles he had made and then stamp his handprint on the wall as he climbed the stairs out of the basement, making sure that his fingerprints were clear as day and even ruffling his hair a bit to get a few strands to fall out. The police would drive themselves crazy with this one, looking for a man long gone from the mortal plane. 

Looking around the house he had been summoned into, Alastor found the lights on yet no other presence around from what he could see. His little triple murder had also caused quite a ruckus, and if there was anyone else around he’d like to imagine that they would’ve come running at the sounds of violent death.  

The Radio Demon then made a slightly loud pitch shift in startle as there was a knock on the door and then a chorus of, “Trick or treat!” coming from beyond what he assumed was the front door. 

The deer moved in the shadows until he was in the window by the door but still unseen, and watched as a group of small children dressed in colourful costumes waited around for a bit before seemingly giving up and walking off the front porch and then kept going until they reached the house across the street and did the same knock and yell routine, and this time the door was opened and candy was dropped into the bags they were holding.

Other kids on the street skipped past the house that the demon was in, having seen that no one had answered for the last group.

“Ah, All Hallows Eve.” Alastor said to himself as he realised what was happening. Halloween in its current state was unfamiliar to him, the holiday only just starting to turn into this when he was alive, but he had heard a lot about how the holiday had changed over the years from newer sinners. 

This would explain why the hotel had been dressed up with fake spiderwebs and paper bats that Niffty kept trying to clean up then. Maybe he should actually listen when Charlie explains why they're doing things...

Oh well. 

The Radio Demon then got an idea. 

There was a known trick among hellborn demons that they could travel to earth for the night of All Hallows Eve without their disguises and walk around as if they were just any other human, but there was a rumour that even sinner demons could exist freely on earth on this night until dawn hit. 

With this in mind, Alastor used his shadows to slip under the door and braced before materializing again, and was then pleasantly surprised when there was no burning pain. 

Summoned sinner demons could not leave the area that they had been summoned into without harsh punishment in the form of full body pain until they clawed back into their allowed space, something that the Radio Demon had once learned the hard way. 

Though as Alastor started taking steps until he was on the sidewalk and found himself still free of lava hot pain, he thought that maybe that little sinners on earth rumour had truth to it. 

“Hey man! Nice costume!” A random young man said as he walked past the Radio Demon, his hat on backwards and his breath reeking of beer. “Those teeth and ears are so realistic! The haircut is a bit wacky though.” And with that the man was back on his way, stumbling down the sidewalk. 

Alastor growled quietly at the comments as his ears pulled back a bit. At least he didn’t need a disguise though, since humans were too stupid to tell the difference between fake and real features. 

With that thought, the Overlord made up his mind and started walking the streets into the busy night. It would be nice to breathe the fresh air of earth for a while, even if the more he looked around the more he realized that the shitty sight that was modern Hell was quite accurate to modern earth. It was a disappointing discovery to see all the stupid little handheld picture boxes in people's hands, but Alastor tried to not let it bother him in favour of untainted air in his lungs. 

He didn’t know where on earth he was, but anywhere on earth was probably better than anywhere in Hell anyways, no matter how much he longed for Louisiana. 

“Whoa! Nice costume Mister!” A young girl shouted at him from across the street that he had found himself on. “You really look like you belong to the Blitzø Party down the street! They have all the best costumes there!” She whined to herself. 

“Uh, thank you?” Alastor said, hoping that it didn’t sound too much like a question, unsure if he should be interacting with humans right now or not. But he didn’t want to leave the young child hanging. She was dressed as a princess of some kind, a purple dress and a huge blond braided wig with a pretty crown on her head. 

“Wow! Voice effects, I wish that had those.” She complained to herself again and then perked up as someone further up the street called for her and she went running with a shout of, “Coming!” without a single hesitation.

Alastor chuckled to himself as he realized fully that as long as it was Halloween, no one would question anything, not even the children. He was even still splashed with drying blood and yet no one had said a fucking word, no one had even done a double take as far as he knew. 

“A party, huh?” The Radio Demon asked himself in a dark tone. 

A party that he would fit into by the sounds of it, a good place to maybe commit a bit more murder and then get back on his merry way to Hell with enough human meat to last him into the new year. 

With his mind made up, Alastor kept on his way down the street to the distant loud music that his sensitive ears could pick up. The music sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place why because it sounded like modern garbage and he shouldn’t actually know it. 

The house that the music was coming from came into view rather quickly, and Alastor stopped on the sidewalk in front of it and studied the outside for a moment. It looked like a basic, if a little on the larger side, modern house. Two floors and a basement most likely, going off the sounds of water there was probably a pool in the backyard. There would most likely be an unused and dark space that he could pull some poor soul into and kill them without anyone noticing. 

But then he looked closer at the few people that he could see loitering on the front yard, and realized why he would fit into the party so well. 

They were demons, all of them were actual demons from Hell. 

The deer sinner was aware that the hellborn liked to party on earth on All Hallows Eve, but he didn’t expect to come across it. 

Alastor debated with himself on whether he should still go inside, but he could smell something sickly sweet inside that was just calling his name, probably a human that had wandered in completely unawares, and figured that maybe his hunt wasn’t quite over yet with a shrug. 

Inside the house was loud and the perfect headache inducing mix of darkness and bright lights. The music was harsher on his ears now, and he realized that he recognized the music as stuff that a popstar succubus made that VoxTek had playing on every speaker in Hell sometimes thanks to her being on Vox’s record label. There was a banner hanging on the wall that said ‘Fuck Blitzø’ and there were various cut outs of what looked like a poorly drawn version of an imp that all had knifes and various other weapons in them, and even an imp shaped cake that was suffering the same fate. 

There was no sign of any humans though.

“A whole party to celebrate hating one guy?” Alastor whispered to himself, wondering just how shitty a person this Blitzø guy was to warrant this. People didn’t even hate him this much, and he was the fucking Radio Demon. 

There was sudden chanting from the open backyard door, and that's where whatever delicious smell that Alastor had been tracking was coming from, so the deer followed his instincts and made his way through the crowd until he reached the back patio and froze as the drunken chanting became clearer without the interference from inside. 

“Vox! Vox! Vox! Vox! Vox!” Various people were shouting as they punched at the air, and then there were excited cheers when a demon slammed a bottle of earth vodka on the table in front of them and then threw their hands up in victory, clearly having finished chugging it, from full if the way they swayed harshly for a moment was anything to go by.

Alastor nearly screeched with feedback. That was in fact Vox. Overlord Vox, the stupid little picture box.

It didn’t matter that he had a human head with a full scalp of thick black hair with red streaks in the bangs even if his eyes stayed the same red with mismatched eyelashes instead of outlines, or that his face was practically ghostly pale even if his visible hands were still a navy blue with sharp cyan claws. That was his Vox, the sinner, the Media Demon. 

The smell that he had been following must’ve been the toxically sweet scent of Vox’s coolant. The tech-head had probably thrown up at some point tonight already and caused the smell to come out of his overworked body like it did in the past whenever a younger Vox had overdone it.

To further the idea that it was in fact the Vox that Alastor knew well, the other Overlord turned to talk to someone behind him and gave the Radio Demon a clear view of the back of his jacket, a high quality black leather number that had the ever present ‘Fuck Blitzø’ on it, but the name of the imp had been crossed out with cyan paint and underneath it a huge ‘Alastor’ had been painted on instead. 

The deer sinner barely managed to suppress a growl at the phrase. How had Vox even gotten here? Vox had never been summoned to earth before as far as Alastor knew, the fact that the tech-head was modern when most people who summoned demons were thinking more about ancient beings making sure of that fact. 

More importantly, how had he gotten a human head with such handsome human features? If this is what Vox's face had looked like when alive, the deer sinner can maybe understand how he became so popular on TV. 

Alastor didn’t have to ponder this question long before Vox turned back around to accept a red cup that was being handed his way that he threw back without a single hesitation. The movement had caused the necklace that the Media Demon was wearing that the wendigo hadn’t noticed before to swing on his chest and catch the light. 

It was a pendant, and the small heart shaped stone at the end was an impossibly hot pink crystal shard that just dripped of powerful magic, that was not unlike the kind that Lucifer left behind, when the Radio Demon used his own magic to tune into it a bit. An Asmodean Crystal no doubt, a powerful jewel that gifted the ability to travel to earth and camouflage that was illegal for sinners and heavily regulated throughout all seven rings of Hell. 

A new question arose: How in the ever loving fuck had Vox gotten his hands on one of them, and how did it work on him when it was only supposed to be able to disguise hellborn?

Alastor hid in the shadows and watched as Vox’s face suddenly gained a green hue, and then the Media Overlord excused himself from the people around him before moving as quickly as he dared into the house, not seeing Alastor as the red Overlord stayed hidden in the dark, not even picking up on the Radio Demon’s signal in his haste. 

The deer sinner followed him as he navigated the hallways until he came across a small washroom that was thankfully empty and then waited in the blissfully quiet-ish hallway for Vox to finish fighting with his stomach. 

After a few minutes, Alastor grew impatient of waiting for Vox to come back out and very simply pushed open the door, using a quick flash of magic to bypass the lock, and he entered to see Vox breathing hard as he sat on the floor against the wall by the toilet. 

The Radio Demon carefully shut the door behind him as Vox looked up at him with blurry eyes. 

“What kind of sick joke is this?” Vox managed to slur out as the sight of the red demon came into focus after a moment. 

“Why, I was in the neighbourhood and came across this atrocious party!” Alastor said, staring down at Vox as the other man tried to keep his breathing steady against the feeling of being sick. “I smelled the most delicious scent from here.” The deer then let his eyes turn to radio dials and his filter became harsher. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered a silly little coolant reeking picture box so very far from home.” He said darkly. 

“You’re far from home too, asshole.” Vox snapped back, clearly not intimidated in his drunken state. 

Though he was starting to look better with every moment that passed, and Alastor briefly remembered a conversation about the other man trying to make some tech that could help improve his biological filters in his biomechanical body. Looks like he had succeeded in being able to rid himself of the effects of alcohol faster with that venture, explaining why he could get shit-faced, throw up, and then hop right back into chugging a whole bottle of pure vodka again so quickly. 

Looks like Vox would be a lot less fun when out drinking now, not that Alastor went out drinking with him anymore. 

“Yes, but at least I’m here legally.” Alastor teased, rolling his eyes when all he got was a blank look from Vox’s red eyes that were framed rather beautifully by blue eyelashes on his left eye and black on his right. “I was summoned.” He clarified. 

“Lucky bastard.” Vox whined, having always wanted to be summoned. “And I’m not here illegally, Ozzie lets me keep the crystal shard as long as I don’t cause a stupid amount of chaos." He explained, protectively covering the hot pink rock on his necklace with a hand. "Halloween offers a lot of leeway for demons but a flatscreen that’s only like an inch and a half wide for a head is still going to be seen as fucked up to humans."

Alastor hummed in mild agreement, his ever present smile widening. He had just struck a goldmine of a discovery, but he tucked it away to hold over Vox’s head at a later date since he was pretty sure that none of the other Overlords were in the know of whatever was happening because Carmilla surely would’ve made a stink about it if it was known that Vox was able to legally access earth even if only for a night with a legally obtained Asmodean crystal. 

“What are you even doing here? You’ve never been one for parties like this.” Alastor also sat on the floor a little reluctantly so that he could be eye level with Vox as he let his cane be unsummoned into his pocket dimension from where he had been holding it at his side, genuinely curious.

Vox preferred nights out at quiet bars if memory served correct, and he stuck to that habit even after taking in Valentino and later Velvette who were both quite into partying wildly at clubs. 

“I’ve been coming to these things for like, six years now, I think.” Vox wondered out loud, his eyes on the ceiling as he thought about it. “Verosika insisted after putting up with my wallowing for long enough, been doing this for Halloween ever since. It’s okay I guess, and shitting on some guy that I barely know is actually a lot of fun.”  

“You don’t even know this Blitzø person?” Alastor raised an eyebrow. 

“No, no, I know him. I’ve even hired him once, he’s a hitman of some sort but he and his team will do other tasks if you pay them well enough.” Vox waved the question off, cyan angelic steel claws glinting dangerously in the harsh washroom lighting. “Every single person here is one of his ex’s, Verosika was his longest ever relationship before his most recent one and he broke her to bits, once she realised how often he does that she starting throwing these things so that everyone else who’s been hurt by him can just forget about it or take their frustrations out for a night.” Vox was able to recite the cause of the parties by heart after hearing his talented musical friend go off about it time and time again. 

“Everyone here is one of his past partners?” Alastor asked as his ears stood up straighter in surprise. There had to be over one hundred people at this party, how could one little imp have had so many people fall for him to then only be hurt by him? 

“Everyone but me.” Vox pointed to himself, sounding a little too proud of himself that he hadn’t fallen into the trap that was Blitzø. “That little red prick fucking wishes though, fuck, after the amount of zeros I paid him he was practically begging to get on his knees for me.” The Media Demon grumbled to himself, barely loud enough for Alastor to catch. 

“Ah yes, instead you are here to celebrate your broken heart from me.” The Radio Demon said, trying not to laugh at the way that Vox’s human head snapped back to him. 

It was only now that Alastor realized that the other Overlord was wearing a cyan turtleneck to protect against the cold autumn weather under his leather jacket that probably wasn’t a great protector against the cold as he studies the front lines of the black jacket, one of the lapels even had the wi-fi symbol on it in modern Vox fashion.

“The bold statement on the back of your jacket is rather telling.” Alastor explained further before Vox’s intoxicated computerized brain could catch up to the hint or he could even simply just ask. 

The Media Overlord scoffed. “It was a gift from Verosika.” He says, and then scowls. “Plus, after what you did to me, it’s a little warranted I would say.” 

Alastor opens his mouth to try and defend himself, but he’s interrupted before he can even start by the washroom door opening rather violently. 

“You are not going to fucking believe who showed up!” Both Alastor and Vox look up at Verosika Mayday as she looks down and realizes that Vox is not alone from when she saw him heading towards the washroom not too long before from her place on the indoor balcony. “Are you shitting me!?” She yells when she registers what she is looking at. “Both fucking ex’s showed up tonight?!” 

“What do you mean?” Vox asks, a worried look in his eyes as he pays no mind to the displeased sound that Alastor makes for being referred to as an ex. 

“Fucking Blitzø showed up, apparently all the way back at the start of this party so that he could fucking apologise to everyone to try and get Stolas back, if you can believe that.” She starts to explain with an eye roll. Alastor makes a curious little tuning sound, wondering just who this imp is that he was even with who he assumes is Stolas the Goetia Prince. “And now this radio fuckhead is here too?! How did he even get up here?” She starts shouting again, pointing a sharp black nail at the red Overlord. 

“He was lucky enough to get summoned on Halloween in this neighbourhood.” Vox says simply, not sounding all too mad about it this time. 

Verosika makes an angry sound at that, but she looks more upset than mad. “God fucking dammit, we’re going to have to get a new location for this next year.” She starts to complain. “I’m so sorry V, this party has turned into a disaster.” She says to Vox with a genuinely sincere voice. 

The Media Overlord shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve thrown up twice tonight and I’m still having fun I think. Plus the fact that I don’t hear a riot out there is probably a sign that the human hitman wasn’t actually seen by too many people?” Vox raises an eyebrow in question at the succubus. 

“No, I’m pretty sure that only Stolas and I actually saw him, but I know that Vortex sniffed him out too.” Verosika answers, sounding rather relieved by that fact. 

“Then it’s not a total loss yet.” Vox reassures her with a gentle smile, and Alastor finally notices that his sharp teeth and tongue are still a glowing cyan blue even with the human head. “Everyone else is still in the blissful dark about the surprise guest, so why don’t you grab Stolas and take him on a walk or something to cool down and then come back here and fall back into the vibe.” 

Verosika smiles at that, a proud glint in her eyes now. “Actually, Stolas found a hook up and is busy with that at the moment.” She says smugly. “So I’ll probably just go smoke a joint or something and mellow out now. You want in?” The pink succubus asks as she holds a hand out to Vox, completely ignoring Alastor. 

Vox groans to himself, but he still has a smile on his face. “Sure, why not?” He asks rhetorically. 

The sinner then tries to get to his feet, a clean pair of black and cyan boots for his footwear instead of his usual heeled dress shoes, but before he can actually stand up straight he’s swaying harshly and would’ve probably fallen over and cracked his head on the vanity if not for Verosika grabbing his hands to keep him up and also the way that Alastor was quickly surging upwards to also help stabilize him. 

“Vox? Are you okay?” Verosika asks, eyeing Alastor wearily as he holds Vox by the waist. The succubus had heard every last complaint about the Radio Demon, had watched Vox shed tear after painful tear for the other Overlord, and if she thinks for even a single second that Alastor is going to cause trouble she’s going to kick him in the balls as hard as she can. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” Vox answers slowly after a moment of regaining himself. “My advanced filters and processors have only just turned on so my body is still gonna be fuzzy even if my head isn't.” He explains sadly. 

Verosika hums, and then gently pulls Vox away from Alastor and starts to lead him out of the washroom and into the hallway. “Maybe you’re the one that needs the walk, get yourself moving again so that you don’t crash?” She wonders out loud. 

“Maybe.” Vox says after a moment of thinking it over since fresh air did sound rather nice at the moment. 

“I’ll take you, it’s been a while since I’ve just been able to meander while on earth.” She says, starting to shoot a glare at Alastor who has been following them and is already glaring for being ignored and then dismissed, but then there's excited screaming from the main room that the party is happening in, and a very sweet honey-like smell fills the air. “Fucking dammit, they cracked into the Beelzejuice.” The pink girl grumbles to herself. 

“You go handle that, I’ll just wait out front for you.” Vox nods at her. 

“Or I could take you for a walk.” Alastor steps in before the plan can be confirmed, putting on his best ‘I’m innocent’ look. 

“I’m not your fucking pet.” Vox grits out just to be like that, leaning on the wall of the hallway.

“I don’t think so.” Verosika says angrily, stepping in front of Vox protectively. “You’re going to wait here so that I can call Asmodeus and he can come drag your ass back to Hell.” She practically demands. 

“Oh, do calm down.” Alastor says in a fake cheerful voice. “If I wanted to hurt Vox I would’ve already done so.” He says it like it’s reassuring. “Plus I’ve taken care of a drunken Vox more times than I can count, this is practically routine.” And it’s the truth. Alastor honestly kind of misses those early A.M. walks that he and Vox used to take back to their homes from the bar where both were without a brain-to-mouth filter and just said whatever came to mind, back when Vox was still fresh and starry-eyed. 

“I mean, you were there for the great mimosa incident of ‘76 and managed to get me home somehow.” Vox says, sounding mostly like he’s talking to himself because his inner filters weren’t exactly perfect against a full bottle of earth vodka and whatever else he’s taken in tonight. “Rosie was soooo mad at me.” He then whines as he places his forehead against the wall and sighs happily as how cold it is against his skin. 

Verosika seems to think about it, but then the shouting from the other room grows in volume and she makes a frustrated sound. “Fine, he can take you if you want him to, but you keep your fucking phone in hand and if I don’t hear from you in like an hour I’m going to start a manhunt.” She tells the currently humanoid headed sinner sternly.

Vox salutes sloppily. "You got it." 

Verosika nods and moves to march into battle, but she stops before the Media Overlord and leans in gently to press a light kiss to his cheek. “You be safe, okay?” She says to Vox. 

“As safe as I can be.” He answers easily, like this is routine for the two of them, and then Verosika is gone and it’s just Vox and Alastor in the hallway. “Let’s fucking go.” Vox says in a more playful tone than angry, and is then grabbing Alastor by the arm and turning them into electricity so that they can travel into a plug socket and through the wires of the house at light speed until they are at the smart doorbell beside the front door and rematerializing out of the camera. 

They have successfully avoided the crowd inside, but Alastor doesn’t feel better for it. 

“That was unpleasant.” The wendigo grits out past clenched teeth as he smooths down his now staticky hair, willing his stomach to stop doing flips. 

“Well then we're even.” Vox says as he starts walking down the walkway of the house to the sidewalk. “Travelling through your shadows fucking sucks too, bitch, and you’ve forced me to do that hundreds of times so you can deal with a little static.” 

Alastor rolls his eyes unhappily, but supposes that fair is fair and follows after Vox easily. 

They walk in silence for a bit, making random turns as they get deeper into the suburbs. It’s quickly gotten rather dark out and most of the houses have their lights off since it’s gotten late enough that no self-respecting parent would let their kid go trick-or-treating right now so it’s way less busy than it was when Alastor had entered the party with only a few young adults occasionally wandering by. 

“Whatever you want to ask, just ask.” The navy sinner says snappily, even though he doesn’t seem to be fully navy coloured at the moment. “I can literally hear you debating. Just because I don’t have my antennas right now doesn’t mean I’m not also in the air.” 

Alastor flushes a little at being caught letting his mind wander onto the radio waves, but takes the invitation and lifts an eyebrow curiously. “How did you get an Asmodean Crystal?” He questions, red eyes zeroing in on the pendant around Vox’s neck. 

“It’s not an Asmodean Crystal.” Vox corrects him. “It’s an Asmodean Crystal shard.” He puts emphasis on the last word, and Alastor thinks that the tone that the other sinner is using sounds a whole lot like he’s only saying it for legal reasons. 

The Radio Demon rolls his eyes again. “Fine then, how did you get an Asmodean Crystal shard?” He asks again with the slightly changed phrase and the same emphasis that the other man had used. 

The other sinner smirks at the phrasing now. “It’s off of Verosika’s crystal, she was fucking around with it like a decade ago when we were supposed to be working on an album and we made the discovery that they can work on my head with how interchangeable it is.” Vox starts to explain, a small smile on his face as he remembers that day, though something in the back of his mind is asking why in the world he's telling Alastor this. “Oz was pissed but he couldn’t deny that me having a disguise was useful so he let Verosika break a shard off of her crystal for me and then let me keep it as long as I don’t cause any trouble because of it. I’m only allowed on earth for Halloween though, and I have to keep it on the DL.” 

“A Sin just lets you keep an extremely powerful object like that?” Alastor assumes that Vox is talking about the Sin of Lust Asmodeus, who’s nickname was commonly known to be Ozzie and that the short form for that is Oz.

He also vaguely knew that Vox was friendly with the Sins since the Media Demon was the only thing standing between Hell and a new dark age, but this seemed a little too good to be true.

“Ozzie likes me.” Vox confirms his line of thinking, swinging around a street light pole like he’s in a movie as they come across it before getting back on the way quickly with a little bit of a sway from spinning. “I keep his boyfriend in working condition, and his ring, and all the rings… I’m important, I power all seven of those fuckers.” Vox gets quieter as he keeps talking until it looks more like he’s talking to himself. 

“You’re not just drunk are you?” Alastor asks, looking Vox up and down as he lags behind the Media Demon a bit to watch his steps stagger a few times. He’s seen drunk Vox enough to know that he does get a little bit wonky with his speech patterns, but this is a little too much and a modern Vox is way more likely to want to keep a grip on himself even if intoxicated, unlike what he’s doing now. 

“I smoked a joint with Verosika when we were setting up the party.” Vox says, a small smirk on his face. “And I’m still a bit fucked up from Val pouring a bag of cocaine right into my vents this morning.”  

Alastor makes a scoffing sound that’s a little disgusted sounding. “And you just let him? Why do you insist on hanging around that moth anyway?” It’s a question that the deer had been pondering for years since Vox had first fallen into the pimps life, and continued to do so as their relationship grew and grew until Alastor couldn’t take it anymore and started to distance himself from Vox. 

“I let him do it because I haven’t slept in nearly a week and I needed the pick me up.” Vox tells him with a matter-of-fact tone, ignoring the tuning sound that Alastor makes at the information. “And I hang around him, because he’s the only one who fucking stayed.” The Media Demon says angrily now, and stomps ahead of Alastor quickly until there’s at least a good two meters between them. 

Alastor’s filter makes an angry sound, but he makes it stop and keeps following Vox. A drunk and high Vox is an informative Vox, but more importantly, it’s an entertaining Vox even though he currently seems more upset than carefree and cheerful like Alastor is used to from him when he’s in this state and it may not actually be worth it to stay. 

“And who’s fault is that?” Alastor hisses. 

“Yours!” Vox shouts as he turns around to face that Radio Demon, a scowl on his lips. “It’s all your fault!” 

Vox then stomps off again, and it’s now that Alastor realizes that they have come across an empty park. It’s a small open field with a few young trees and a rather lackluster play structure in a pool of wood chips, a few benches here and there, a concrete walkway that has colourful and childish chalk drawings on it, and a small rusted swing set that only has two seats hanging from it with one of them now being occupied by Vox. 

Alastor makes his way over slowly, unsure why he is doing so. He should really just leave Vox be in his wallowing, should just let him cool off by himself and head back to Hell where he and the TV headed demon will fall back into their regular antagonistic routine. 

But he doesn’t, and he finds himself sitting down next to Vox on the other swing. He watches the other Overlord gently rock himself, humming a little tune that sounds like Beelzebub's lastest hit that Alastor had been forced to listen to by Angel Dust, clearly calmed back down from his anger again. 

It’s silent other than the sounds of crickets, Alastor and Vox’s usual buzzing that only the two of them can hear, and the tech-head’s humming.

Until a few cop cars whiz by with their lights flashing and their sirens blaring, and both sinners turn in their seats to watch them race by.

Alastor can’t help the laugh that he lets loose once he realizes that they’re heading in the direction of the triple murder he had committed. 

Vox catches onto his little gremlin crackle rather quickly, and narrows his eyes at the wendigo demon. “What did you do?” He asks, his own filter becoming harsher for a moment as he switches his attention between his company and the many cop cars and even the ambulance that flies by. 

“I was summoned by idiots, they deserved what was coming to them.” The deer says in explanation, his smile bright. 

Vox rolls his eyes at the murder confession and untwists his body from watching the emergency vehicles as they get out of eyeshot and their sirens fade into the distance so that he can look forward again. 

He somehow fails though, a mixture of his weird intoxicated state and his sudden movements letting his ass slide backwards on the swing until he is falling off of it with a surprised sound and his back is then flat on the cold hard wood chips that also surround the swing set with a painfully winded noise, his legs on the swing seat now. 

Vox wheezed for a moment, trying to get his breath back through his mouth until he remembers that he is usually more mechanical than organic and that he still has vents on his ribs, the things turning on to stop his unsteady breathing and his fans starting to make noise from his chest. “Ow.” He manages to complain in a deadpan tone as his voice comes back. 

Alastor starts laughing at the Media Demon once it’s clear that he isn’t about to die, thoroughly amused by the show. 

After a moment Vox starts to laugh too, until they are both breathless with it. 

Both are then suddenly overcome with the feeling of nostalgia, and it’s almost like they are back to being two friends trying to make the most out of a life in literal Hell instead of two rival Overlords that haven't really said anything to each other for the better part of a decade other than hurtful words meant to destroy. 

Vox sighs with the last of his chuckles, opening his eyes to stare into the endless darkness that is the earth night sky. There are a few stars, but not as many as there had been when he was alive since the beauty that was space had been covered up by the light pollution of humans. When Vox had found out about a decade after his death that he had missed the moon landing, he had been a little more than pissed off. 

“Why are you here?” Vox asks after a moment as Alastor also calms down. The Radio Demon makes a slightly annoyed sound, because hadn’t it just mentioned for the third time that he had been summoned? But then Vox keeps going, “Not here on earth, you lucky prick, but like, here with me?” 

Alastor thinks about it, really thinks about it. Why is he here? Again, he should really just leave Vox alone. It’s not like the Media Demon is going to get in trouble for being on earth so there’s not going to be a fallout to watch, and Vox is good enough to handle himself if someone is stupid enough to attack him even when this intoxicated so it’s not like he needs protection, and Verosika Mayday will probably start an actual war for Vox if he doesn’t come up okay eventually in a clear sign that the other sinner isn’t alone in the land of the living. 

He doesn’t actually need Alastor here, and yet for some reason that seems to be the answer for why he wants to stay. Vox may not need him, but Vox has always proven time and time again, that he wants the Radio Demon around. 

“Because you want me to be here.” The red sinner eventually answers. 

Vox doesn’t argue this statement and instead he just closes his eyes and sighs in self deprecation, a dead giveaway that Alastor has hit the nail right on the head. 

“Where have you been then?” Is what Vox chooses to say next. “If you’re only here right now because I want you here, then where have you been for the last seven years that I’ve wanted you around?” 

Alastor sighs. “That’s none of your concern, old pal.” 

Vox makes a frustrated sound, his eyes rolling so hard that his hypnotism activates in his left eye for a moment. “Fucking asshole, I wish that I could actually hate you.” The Media Overlord whispers, but in the quiet of night with prey ears, Alastor is able to pick it up. 

“The duet that you started and the jacket that you are currently wearing say that you do hate me, and I’ve also seen that mug whenever one of the others in the hotel has the TV on when your stupid talk show is going.” Alastor raises an eyebrow at Vox, who is still on the ground. 

“First of all, I found out that you were back from Valentino of all people who got the information from fucking Angel Dust, you can probably understand why I would be pissed off at that. Secondly, the jacket was a gift and so was the mug.” Vox starts listing off on his fingers, his claws glowing unnaturally with the material that they are plated with. “And thirdly, I have never once used fake laugh tracks for Vox-2-Nite, so you can go suck a dick.” 

“I’d rather not.” Alastor banters back, watching in amusement as Vox bends at the waist and manages to get his hands on the chains that hold up the swing and tries to pull himself up without actually having to stand, but he quickly gives up after only a few seconds of his tired and intoxicated body failing to actually move, and he flops back on the ground with his arms splayed to the sides as if he’s waiting for God’s judgement. 

Unluckily for him, God judged him already, nearly seventy years ago, and the outcome had not been a very good one. 

It’s silent for a moment as Vox stares at the sky and Alastor watches him doing so. 

“Do you actually think that I hate you?” Vox asks eventually, head turning so that he can look at Alastor with his LED eyes piercing the dark to practically look right into the Radio Demon’s black soul. The deer can’t say for sure if he likes the human head or not after to long with the television, even the flat- screened one, but Vox must be having a blast being able to have full use of his neck while laying down.

“No Vox, you are far too obvious for me to actually think that.” Alastor reassures the other Overlord. “You always have been.” 

“Okay, good, good good good good good.” He starts repeating to himself as if he’s trying to convince himself that it is, in fact, good. “Do you hate me?” He then asks, a little disjointed-like, like the alcohol is once again catching up to him.

Were Vox’s internal filters failing him, or was he purposefully doing this as an excuse and a chance to not have to remember? 

“No, Vox. Not really anyways.” Alastor repeats, the tone in his voice sounding tired like he’s answering a toddler who just asked why the sky is blue for the twelfth time but is still expecting an answer. 

Vox just hums in acknowledgment this time, turning back to the sky like the answer doesn’t actually matter. 

Alastor narrows his eyes at the other sinner a bit. It was such a bland reaction, so unlike Vox. 

“What did I do that made you think that I hated you?” The deer decides to ask, standing up and taking a couple of steps around the swing so that he can sit on it again but facing Vox, who has made no new attempts to try getting up, without having to twist his body uncomfortably. 

“Mmm, lots of things.” Vox drawls, eyes scanning the sky for constellations but not finding any. Maybe if he switched his eyes to night-mode?... “There was the way you kept pulling away from me since the eighties no matter how much I tried to keep you close to me. There was the way that you rejected me and then nearly killed me for it. And then you just fucked off from Hell entirely, I mean you were even off the air and I hadn’t not felt you in the air before so that was a bit terrifying.” 

“Oh dear, I can assure you that my missing persons case had nothing to do with you.” Alastor assured Vox once the TV headed demon who didn’t actually have the TV at the moment seemed to be done talking. “That was just an unfortunate and unavoidable thing on my part.” He mysteriously explained, hoping that Vox wouldn’t pry for more answers. 

The Media Demon hummed again, looking a little unconvinced. “So what was everything else then?” He asks further, sounding reserved. 

“Well, you were starting to branch out into the future, making friends with that disgusting moth and trying to make more and more technology, and I figured that I would let you do as you pleased.” Alastor said, pushing his feet to the ground lightly so that the swing would rock a little bit. “I do suppose I did overreact to your business proposal though, perhaps that was just my Overlord Killer instincts taking over.” 

The Radio Demon runs his eyes over Vox’s face, watching as the red streaks in Vox’s hair, his antennas in human form, spark a bit with cyan electricity at the reminder of his near death at Alastor’s hands. One of the streaks is a harsh zig-zag against the rest of Vox’s soft waves, and the deer is sadly reminded that he had been the one that broke Vox’s antenna.  

“Business proposal?” Vox repeats like he’s just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. The navy sinner finally takes his feet off of the swing and sits up straight in the wood chips, his legs crisscrossed under him as he stares at Alastor. “That wasn’t a business proposal, I was offering you a contract that I had already signed that said that I would never betray you if you wanted to still be allies because I knew that you would've never believed me without it. There was never going to be any actual business, I knew from the very start that you would’ve never joined the Vee’s or anything new age that I was doing so why would I even try asking? Do you really think so low of me?” There are tears building up in Vox’s eyes and he sounds genuinely hurt by the idea. 

“I- oh.” Alastor is rendered a little speechless, his ears falling down to the sides as the reality of the situation hits him. “... It appears that there’s been a misunderstanding.” He concedes. 

He had been pissed when he had met up with Vox at the tech-head’s request only to see a contract waiting for him. He had thought that the Media Overlord had been trying to get him to join the Vee’s, that had really only just been Vox and Valentino at the time and Alastor fucking hates Valentino, and he had lashed out rather quickly thanks to burning resentment and anger that had been building since the eighties when Vox had first befriended the pimp Overlord and grew close to him. 

He supposes that maybe he had jumped to conclusions rather quickly, before Vox could even get more than ten words in, though he also thinks that the conclusions were probably a little warranted since Vox had been on a kick for the future and was constantly talking about computers and finding more and more ways to upgrade his own body.

He had been thinking that the Media Demon had let his plan for the future and his neediness for Alastor come forward together in the worst way possible.

“Misunderstanding.” Vox mocks in a perfect trans-Atlantic accent, his head shaking to match the childish tone of voice that he had used to make fun of Alastor. “I loved you, you fucking prick, I just wanted to keep you by my side.” He admits quietly, claws playing with a wood chip as he frowns at the ground and refuses to look back to the Radio Demon. 

Alastor watches him, studies the way that Vox holds back the tears in his eyes, and decides to make an impulsive decision for the first time since the last time that he had been with Vox for anything but harsh words or a bloody battle. 

The wendigo stands up from the swing again and takes the few steps over to Vox, the ground crunching loudly under him so that Vox can be aware of his movements, and then comes to a stop before him.

The other Overlord tries to ignore Alastor by keeping his eyes stubbornly on the ground, but then the deer's shadow is manifesting properly and is slithering away from the Radio Demon to appear right in front of Vox on the ground. It’s dark enough that it can barely be seen, but Alastor forces a bit of power into it and its eyes glow blood red so that it can be spotted. 

Vox yelps at the sudden appearance, and he falls back with his arms flailing a bit to try and help him keep his balance. 

Before he can actually fall all the way backwards again though, his hands are being taken into Alastor’s and the red sinner is pulling him upwards with the help of some shadowy tentacles. Vox makes another surprised sound at himself suddenly being forced to stand, and he stumbles over his own feet right into Alastor’s body until they are pressed completely together and Alastor has to wrap his hands around Vox’s waist to help steady him unless they both want to go down. 

It’s quiet for a moment as both of them take in what has just happened, Vox’s human face buried in Alastor’s shoulder as he breathes hard to calm himself down from the sudden frights he had gotten.

“Let me go.” Vox eventually whines and straightens up as best he can, putting up a rather pitiful fight to get out of Alastor’s grip considering that the Radio Demon’s hold on him isn't all that tight. 

“No, I don’t think I will.” Alastor says playfully in return. 

Vox sighs and turns his head a bit to glare at the deer, which just causes Alastor’s smile to turn mischievous. 

“Oh no, I know that look, whatever you’re thinking-” Vox is cut off from attempting to tell Alastor off by another yelp from his own mouth as Alastor’s body suddenly starts playing an upbeat tune and the deer starts to lead them in a dance. 

It’s relatively slow paced compared to what Alastor used to have them dance, but Vox is in an intoxicated state and hasn’t actually done any real dancing in quite a while so he is quick to stumble over his own feet again which just sends him right back into Alastor’s body, their fronts plastered together. 

“Fucking asshole.” Vox grumbles to himself, trying his hardest to get into the steps of the dance because once the Radio Demon pulls you into a dance there is no escaping it. 

Alastor pays no mind to Vox’s complaining though. “It appears that I owe you an apology, my daring.” He says, and nearly bursts out laughing at the way that Vox’s head whips up from where he had been looking at his feet in an attempt to not step on any toes, eyes wide and mouth fallen open in shock. 

“What?” The Media Demon asks, eyebrows furrowing. 

“I acted irrationally and hurt you, you didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry that it happened.” Alastor dares to clarify, lifting a hand off Vox’s waist to move his hair out from where it had fallen in his face. His own red claws brush against his broken red streak oh so gently, and the thing sparks with a little spiky heart. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, because Vox is staring in disbelief. 

The water builds up in Vox’s eyes again, but the frequency coming off of him is quite a happy little buzzing. “Thank you.” He says softly, giving Alastor a small genuine smile, one that he doesn’t think he’s actually used in years. “I have really missed you, and your crazy dancing.” He admits. 

Alastor hums happily, letting his hand fall back to Vox’s waist. “I have to say that I have missed you quite a bit too, Picture Box.” He says honestly. “Life has gotten rather dull without your spontaneous shark rants and challenging people to chess matches that you’ll never lose.” He chuckles a bit. 

The other sinner laughs along too. “And I think my life has gotten nothing but worse without your cooking and random late night walks.” Vox’s smile then drops a little and his eyes go back down, only this time he isn’t really looking at anything instead of at his shoes as he just lets Alastor guide him in the dance and doesn’t let himself worry about what his feet are doing. “I love you, y’know that?” He says, a light purple blush on his cheeks from the mixture of red blood and blue coolant in his veins. 

Alastor lets his smile become more relaxed as his head tilts a bit to the side, his ears following the movement. “I did say that you were rather obvious, and even if you weren’t you did say it a few minutes ago.” 

Vox laughs, and it sounds a little self-hating. “Yeah, I’m a good presenter but I guess that acting is something that I could always find room to improve on.” Vox lifts a hand off of where they had found their way to the deer’s shoulders and scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“You’re good at acting, how else would you have convinced nearly everyone in Hell to buy your shitty products?” Alastor jokes, laughing when Vox rolls his eyes. 

“They’re not all shitty.” The Media Demon defends himself. “It’s just that sometimes you have to put out something less than perfect to keep people complacent.” 

“You keep telling yourself that.” The wendigo teases more, but then he sobers up a bit. “I don’t think I’m capable of love.” He says sadly. “Not the kind that you want anyways.” Now it’s his turn to look down at his feet as Vox looks back to him.

Vox smiles gently, putting his hand back on Alastor’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it through the padding that’s in the red suit. He knows that the Radio Demon is usually one to despise the touch of another, but he was all for contact when it came to real proper dancing, and had always let the TV headed sinner get away with quite a bit in the past. 

“I know, I think I’ve always known.” The navy and currently skin-toned man says lightly. “But I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. If you want to give me anything that is, if you just want things to stay how they have been, I can live with this little bit of closure.” He shrugs a bit, looking sad but accepting in a way. 

“Now now, don’t get too ahead of yourself, cher.” Alastor’s smile brightens. “You were my best friend too, and I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone else more than I’ve liked you, and you may be the closest I’ve ever gotten to loving another, other than my mother that is.” The deer chuckles to himself a bit. 

Vox melts a bit. “So, friends again?” He asks, voice full of hope. 

Alastor smirks mischievously again, but before Vox can even attempt to ask what he could possibly be up to now, he leans forward a bit and presses a kiss to the man’s cheek, so light and soft that Vox would dare to compare it to a butterfly. “A little more than friends maybe, you were always nice to fall asleep against after a night out, you tend to run the perfect kind of warm.” 

He also doesn't feel like sharing Vox in any capacity again now that he’s got the other Overlord back, but he'll find a way to deal with Valentino later.

Vox’s face is now completely flushed purple, and Alastor laughs at his stunned expression. 

“O-okay.” Vox manages to stutter out. “Sounds good.” 

“Wonderful.” The red sinner agrees. “We can start this new era with a dance then.” 

“We’re already dancing.” Vox reminds him, regaining his composure and smiling playfully. 

“A new dance then.” Alastor concedes, and the music playing from his chest switches to a waltz beat and the two Overlords quickly fall into the new steps, Vox leading now because it's one of the few dances where he can actually do so confidently and Alastor can be nice sometimes.

Vox then takes a gamble and lets his head rest on Alastor’s shoulder, sighing happily when he is not pushed away. 

They dance for who knows how long, both allowing the world around them to fade and existing by themselves for the first time in decades as two demons in the human world on the one light a year that they're allowed to. 

After a long while, Vox allows the push notifications connected to his brain that he had mentally turned off for this conversation to turn back on, and then his head suddenly shoots up with panic in his eyes as they start coming in with quite dings inside his head.

“Oh shit, Verosika.” He says to himself, summoning this phone from the back pocket of his jeans in a small burst of electricity as the dance pauses for him because Alastor does not want to deal with a murderous succubus, pulling up his messages and wincing at the amount of texts he has from the hellborn. 

Honorary Vee: You’re not back yet, can I give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you got lost? 

Honorary Vee: Vox? Are you okay? Answer me. 

Honorary Vee: Vox? 

Honorary Vee: VOX!?

Honorary Vee: You’re literally connected to your phone at all times so you should be answering, are you dead??? What happened to keeping your phone in hand????

Honorary Vee: If you don’t answer me in sixty seconds I’m coming after you. 

Honorary Vee: That’s it, I’m going to look for you and I'm bringing Tex.

Honorary Vee: If you’re dead I’m going to kill you.

Honorary Vee: I thought you said you couldn’t dance? You’re such a liar, even your jacket is a fucking lie. 

Honorary Vee: I mean… unless you want to use the other meaning of the phrase ;)

Honorary Vee: I took pictures, give me the Saturday interview with Velvette or I’m leaking them 

Honorary Vee: ... I won't actually but I still want that interview, I'll delete them as soon as I get the confirmation email :)

Honorary Vee: Glad you’re okay though, and I hope that whatever it is that happens turns out good for you

Honorary Vee: Just remember that we have a recording session the day after tomorrow and I want all the details since I know you won't be coming back to the party tonight

Honorary Vee: Be safe. 

“Oh boy, I think I’m in trouble.” Vox says, happy to leave Verosika on read for now even if it will make whatever lecture he will most definitely get worse. He will have to get the pink girl that interview though, because while he knows that she would never actually leak the photos he doesn't want to chance it by having them exist but he still respects Verosika’s privacy, as he wants to keep whatever it is that he and Alastor have now out of the public eye so that he can keep it to himself.

He also knows that the Radio Demon will probably go on a killing spree if he’s forced to play with the paparazzi. 

“You did always have an odd ability to attract it.” Alastor confirms, watching Vox scroll through his phone for a second before it’s being shoved back into his pocket. It then takes no time for him to whip Vox into another dance, a jazz tune playing this time. “Yet you also have quite the skill to get out of it, not many people would be able to take up air space from the Radio Demon and still be alive nearly seventy years later to tell the tale.” He jokes about how the two of them met. 

Alastor had been rather pissed when a new signal had taken to air in the late fifties, and when he had gone looking for the thing with the intent to kill whatever it was, he found a box-headed and starry-eyed new sinner.

Vox had somehow managed to talk his way out of it, mainly by appealing to Alastor’s ego, being able to recognize his voice right away from how much Vox had listened to old recordings of his radio show when alive and practically begging that he wasn't meaning to cause trouble for the wendigo. 

“How long are we going to dance for?” Vox asks as he picks up the new one relatively quickly, his old forced dancing lessons with the man in front of him from decades ago coming back to him. 

“Until dawn, my dear television, until dawn.” Alastor tells him happily, and the smiles that they both give each other are real and filled with something good. 

***

“Oh, where is he?” Charlie asks as she paces the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, ringing her fingers through her already messed up hair from how often she had been doing the action. “He’s got to be okay.” She begs to herself. 

“Char, babe, it’s Alastor.” Angel reminds her from his place on the couch, tiredly glancing up from his phone. “He’s okay.” 

The Radio Demon had been on his way out for a ‘late night walk’ the evening before, but before he could actually leave a portal had opened up beneath him in the hotel lobby and had swallowed him whole before closing just as quickly as it had opened. 

Lucifer had been able to identify it as a summoning, and had then gone on to explain that powerful demons, even sinners, could be summoned to earth if a human was determined enough. The King had also said that most demons would return home after the job they had been called for was done, but it had been hours and Alastor still wasn’t back yet. 

Since then everyone in the hotel had been camping out in the lobby at Charlie’s insistence so that they would be there when Alastor came back to make sure that he was okay. Angel was still awake but just barely with Husk in the same state laying across his lap. Cherri and Niffty were playing some kind of card game on the floor that involved a spoon, Vaggie was only half awake on the couch across from the one that Angel and Husk were on, and Lucifer was tinkering with a very tiny duck that spits fire by the coffee table in the sitting area that they were in. 

The Princess of Hell was still pacing holes into the lobby floor. 

“What if he died?” Charlie ignored her friend's attempted reassurance. “What if he was summoned for something bad and it killed him?” She came up with the worst possibility. 

“Baby, like Angel said, it’s Alastor.” Vaggie yawned in the middle of her words. “As much as I hate to admit it, he’s good at what he does and wouldn’t let some living humans get even close to killing him.” 

The tall blond still looked unconvinced though, until a sudden thought entered her mind and she perked up with hope in her eyes. “Dad, aren’t you able to track down the souls of demons?” She asked quickly, giving her father puppy-dogs eyes.

“I can.” The fallen angel says, but continues before his daughter's hope can get any higher. “But only if they’re in Hell. The bell-hop was summoned to earth, and I’m only allowed up there if it’s end times and I was summoned myself.” 

Charlie slumps back into herself with a whine. 

It’s nearly dawn, and Alastor had been summoned just past ten the night before. The Princess starts to wonder how long the waiting period is until a missing person's case becomes dire and it is more likely that they are dead. 

Before she can try to come up with any other ideas that they can use to get Alastor back, a diamond shaped Asmodean portal opens up in the lobby, and two figures walk through it and everyone is stunned speechless. 

It’s Alastor. 

And it’s Vox. 

Vox has his TV head back in place, the Asmodean Crystal shard on his necklace glowing with the portal magic before the thing closes behind him. He has Alastor's red coat hanging off one of his shoulders like a cape, not actually wearing it because his chest is too wide for it and he’s seen what happens to people who ruin Alastor’s clothing. 

In turn Alastor is proudly wearing Vox’s leather jacket, the thing slightly too big for his frame with the sleeves hanging down far enough to cover his palms. They had switched at some point in the night simply because Vox had wanted them to.

Both are holding Slurpee's and Vox has a 7-eleven bag in his hand that is filled with alcohol and earth candy that was mostly for Valentino and Velvette since they were well aware of Vox's earth traveling habit and that was the tax for the two of them to keep it to themselves.

“Hello.” Vox says around the straw to his flavored slush in greeting to the people in front of him. 

“A full house.” Alastor summons his staff and twirls it a bit. “Here I was expecting a few of you to be severely hungover from last night's All Hallows Eve events.” 

“Oh, dammit, I forgot about the Halloween rules.” Lucifer says as his head falls back in annoyance. He had completely forgotten that All Hallows Eve changes the rules for if a sinner manages to get summoned, let alone that the holiday was even happening. 

Everyone had kind of forgotten about Halloween since Alastor had disappeared and Charlie had started freaking out.

“Yes, the Halloween rules.” Alastor repeats smugly. “Speaking of, if a few new sinners come here looking for me, tell them that they died like cowards.” He laughs to himself a little madly, and brightens up a bit when Vox also chuckles from next to him. 

“What did you do?” Vaggie questions, looking less than impressed as she stands up to try and be intimidating. "And why is the Television Overlord here?" She finally acknowledges the second Overlord, who has been content to just sit and watch chaos unfold thus far.

“I did my duty as a demon.” Alastor answers the first question proudly. “Now if you excuse me, I need to remind Vox what a proper breakfast is.” And with that the Radio Demon is taking Vox’s hand in his own and pulling the TV headed demon to the elevator. 

Everyone else waits for the doors to close on the two powerful sinners and for the numbers on the display outside the elevator doors to start clicking upwards before they start talking again. 

“Was radio-head wearing a ‘Fuck Alastor’ jacket?” Cherri asks, sounding a little excited about it with a large grin on her face. 

“It’s Vox’s, I’ve seen the big Vee wear that thing around the tower a few times.” Angel smirks, clearly having his own ideas about how they had ended up with each other's clothes on their backs. 

“Forget that, why does Vox have an Asmodean Crystal?” Husk decides to voice, having recognized the crystal from how many hellborn used to mess around in his old casino and bars. 

Lucifer’s head suddenly slumps to the table in defeat, and everyone can hear him go, “I knew Vox was going to cause trouble with that thing, I just knew it.” in a whiny tone. 

"Oh, this is going to be so good for my fanfictions." Niffty cackles to herself, pulling out a paper and pen from her pockets and starting to scribble rapidly.

A new round of questions start up in the lobby, but upstairs Vox is sitting at Alastor’s kitchenette table watching the deer dance around the space like the chef that he is as they both wait for the coffee that Vox had started to finish brewing. The two Overlord’s happily ready to start this new chapter of their afterlives.