Chapter Text
“When will you understand?! The only reason I did anything was because of you. After seventy fucking years, I’m still the same pathetic sap who’d do anything for you, even if it costs me everything. I was ready to destroy Heaven and Hell just to get you to look at me. Actually see me. I don’t want your power, I didn’t need it! I just…wanted you….Hell, I’d sell my soul to you, if you asked.”
The two demons stood in the console room of the old radio tower, long abandoned since their first falling out. Dust and cobwebs had gathered, coating every surface during Alastor’s seven-year absence, and he had yet to return here since moving into the Hazbin Hotel. He couldn’t imagine seeing Vox in this old haunt again, especially in the aftermath of the fiasco that was the attempted war on Heaven. When the angelic beam nearly took out half of Pentagram City, Alastor thought that their long-standing rivalry had finally reached its final chapter. Vox had actually meant to kill him. It was the end, and Alastor had accepted it. But then the attack failed as all sinners united against Vox, even his own precious Vees. It was Vox’s end. Now Hell moved on into a new era, and Alastor was thrumming with power in his newfound freedom. It was a new beginning.
Yet on this night, just a few weeks after the failed takeover, he felt the buzz of a familiar signal in a forgotten place. A loose end that refused to be tied up. Vox was calling back to him, and he answered.
“…Half.” A terse response from Alastor.
“…W—what?”
“I’ll only take half…and I suppose it’s only fair if I give you half of mine in exchange.”
???
“You wouldn’t be you if I owned your soul. That’s not what I want. I…. No one else gets to—“
“Al…what are you saying?”
“I’m saying—I…it should just be the two of us. Equals. No one is going to own my soul ever again, but…
“I would share it with you, if it means you’ll stay.”
Alastor reached out with an open palm in a familiar exchange, although he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact. If the heat rising in his face meant anything, he certainly wasn’t going to bring it into view.
Vox, meanwhile, always had his emotions on clear display. His screen flickered, flashing blue and static while his face morphed into a manic grin.
“I—what the fuck?? Are you suggesting—“
“Don’t make me say it again.” Alastor’s ears pinned flat against his head, his eyes staring harder into the ground.
“I just—God, if this is another one of your fucking mind games—“
“Now or never.” Not a threat, but rather reluctance and embarrassment threaded underneath Alastor’s voice in a rumble of static. He felt himself instinctively shrinking back into the shadows.
Vox, who suddenly felt his heart drop down to his stomach at the thought of him disappearing again, snatched up the radio demon’s hand with his own. All at once, power surged from the two overlords’ grasp in cyan lightning and bright green energy.
A deal had been struck.
Two souls, not bound, but intertwined.
The exchange of power didn’t feel apparent at first. Since being freed from his original deal with Rosie, Alastor still wielded immense power from his conquest of overlords in his heyday. Vox, on the other hand, owned millions of souls through VoxTek’s massive influence, though his access to said power was limited by his public ratings. Still, between the caliber of souls under Alastor and the sheer number of those under Vox, they truly did rival each other. The power dynamic among hell’s overlords did not shift.
What did stand out as evidence of their deal was a rather…persistent manifestation of their chains.
A single ring, glowing blue, encircled a finger on Alastor’s left hand. Must it be so obvious? Alastor’s smile tightened in a near-permanent grimace. The ring refused to fade, in what Alastor could only assume to be Vox wanting to brandish his claim for all Hell to see. His only solace was that the same chain was paralleled in his own shade of green on Vox. After all, he felt just as much wanting to make his mark known. He would never admit to being a jealous man, but there were certain pests floating around he wanted to keep at bay.
In any case, Alastor had taken to keeping his left hand out of sight: behind his back, in his coat pocket, or enveloped in shadow. Most of the hotel residents were none the wiser, used to Alastor being obfuscating and secretive.
Most of them, except for Husk.
Husk knew Alastor long enough to know when he was being more cagey than usual. But what actually struck him was a subtle shift in his own chains, now feeling a pull in two directions.
What the fuck just happened?…
Husk had been watching Alastor more intensely for the past few days, checking for cracks in the façade. Alastor wasn’t oblivious to the weight of his now heavier gaze, but feigned ignorance all the same. Still, Husk kept watch, until one late night as he was closing the bar. A shadow slipped into the bar cabinet, wrapping around a particularly fine bottle of whiskey.
“Last call was ten minutes ago, Boss. Don’t make me rat you out to Charlie.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Alastor remarked as he materialized out from his shadow, whiskey in his right hand, his left grasping his staff behind his back. It wasn’t the princess’s business if Alastor wanted a little nightcap to relieve some stress. Not that anything was worrying him of late.
Husk didn’t answer. His jaw dropped open and his eyes widened, appalled. He had just seen a flash of unmistakably bright blue light, unnatural and out of place on the red and black demon’s hand.
“What the actual fuck?!? Did you make another deal?!”
Alastor’s shoulders spiked upward, his antlers branched out, hair and fur raising stick straight. His eyes flicked into radio dials, glowing ominously against black.
“You saw NOTHING, Husker,” Alastor growled, yanking down on the chain around Husk’s neck. Husk barely caught himself and slammed his hands on the counter to protect his head from the impact instead.
“Look—” Husk strained, “I—I don’t want to know the details. I just want to know why my own deal is being roped into this. I can feel…well it’s not like before, but it sure as hell feels familiar.”
Alastor should have known. Soul contracts didn’t necessarily go up the chain (hah) of command if one’s owner was themself on a leash. Husk, however, being a former overlord, could recognize the subtle shifts of bonds being reformed. Not only that, Alastor’s new deal was an uncommon, if not unique, case: a mutual bond, more…intimate.
Husk had never seen a deal like this before, but fuck if he was gonna corroborate. He didn’t need to know about Alastor’s…whatever this was. And he especially didn’t need to know if it was with who he thought it was. No way in Hell.
On the other hand, he also needed to make sure Alastor didn’t flay him in his next live broadcast.
“I’m not getting involved in this,” Husk said. “I only noticed because you chucklefucks—” Alastor let out a screech of radio static at the implication of someone else involved. “—seem to be flaunting it around, whether you’re trying to or not.” Those chains wouldn’t show themselves unless it was intentional. “You know I ain’t running my mouth. Hell, Niffty probably feels it, too. She knows you better than me. But she wouldn’t say anything if you didn’t want. If anyone slips up, at this rate it’d be you or…the other guy.”
Husk tried to think back if he saw a similar glow in recent TV broadcasts, but it was unlikely, since it would’ve caused more of a media circus. He wasn’t even sure the demon himself was making an appearance lately. Not that he knew who was on the other end of the chain—not saying shit. But he also knew that Alastor would never let this…branding…go unmatched. The other guy could only hide it for so long. He was more surprised that it was being hidden at all on his end. But again, not his fucking business.
“I’ll only say this….this new thing between you two…it’ll be less of a shitshow if it comes from you. I know you’d rather control the narrative or whatever. Ain’t it your thing to broadcast your own tales?”
Alastor didn’t take kindly to being lectured about his…fraternizations…by a drunkard who was lovesick himself over a certain absent spider. Not that love had anything to do with this, fuck you. This was a tactical deal to keep that overzealous picture box from creating another apocalyptic spectacle and keeping their rivalry in check. Begrudgingly though, Husker was only saying what Alastor had been avoiding in his own denial. The deal was already in motion, and Alastor was trying not to think too hard about why he was going through with it. He really ought to just get it over with before it becomes a scandal. Or at least before a certain sensitive dreamer starts mourning in song over not being told about the…alliance personally. He could only deal with so much sentimentality from the princess.
“…Fine,” Alastor finally grumbled in response, after a stretch of a threatening silence.
“I suppose I have an announcement to make tomorrow.”
Alastor typically breakfasted in his chambers, preferring a fresh hunt to start the day. This morning, however, he made a point to join the menagerie in the hotel’s dining hall, where Charlie hosted a full breakfast bar, according to her colorful banners. The idea was to get residents to break bread, literally and socially, and start off the day with ~smiles and friendship~. The reality, however, was that most sinners, even those sincerely striving for redemption, were usually too hungover or otherwise indisposed and uninterested to wake up early enough for a glorified continental breakfast. As such, the only ones enjoying the pastries and coffee were the hotel’s de facto staff. Niffty was flitting about, clearing dishes and roaches. Cherri, still ambling about groggily like being awake was a personal punishment for her sins, was up early to feed Fat Nuggets in Angel Dust’s absence. Baxter was actually a morning person, a muffin in hand while reviewing his latest notes on the futile project of redemption. Even Husk was present, albeit slumped over on the table next to what was likely a cup of Irish coffee. At the head of the dining table, Charlie and Vaggi were enjoying a full plate of fluffy pancakes, topped with whipped cream and fresh fruit. Charlie had clearly prepared them, arranging the toppings into a saccharine smiley face with a maple syrup drizzle. Her eyes lit up when she saw Alastor entering the hall.
“Good morning, Alastor!! Are you joining us today? Let me get you a plate!” Charlie was practically bouncing out of her seat now that the morning attendance increased by one.
“No need, Charlie,” Alastor waved her off and summoned a fresh cup of coffee for himself in his favorite mug. He sat down in a cushy dining chair, surreptitiously slipping his left hand from behind his back to his lap under the table. “I’ve come down to deliver some good news.”
“Oh!” Charlie clasped her hands in delight. Her eyes shone with expectation. Alastor was always one for theatrics, which Charlie appreciated, even if his skewed a little more…violent? But if he made a point to change his usual routine, it must be something important.
“Now, now, Charlie. I can see the little bees in your head all abuzz, but it’s just a small thing. You’ll find that the hotel no longer will be hearing much from those slanderous Vees. Given recent…transgressions, I’ve given my old pal a talking to, and we’ve agreed on a truce, if you will. They won’t publish any more falsehoods about the hotel, and I won’t be needling them any more than necessary.”
Husk still kept his head on the table, but had one ear pointedly listening in to Alastor’s announcement. At the last statement, Husk rolled his eyes behind half open lids.
“Oh!…Wow. Okay. That’s…great?” Charlie stammered, somewhat lackluster from her usual enthusiasm. “I mean—no, yeah! That’s really great. So does that mean you’ve…made up? That’s great! I…think?”
Alastor cocked one eyebrow up in response, his smile still ever present.
“No, I mean—I’m so glad you’re practicing forgiveness.” Charlie’s face shifted into something softer, almost like a mother giving a young toddler praise. Alastor’s eye twitched at the indignity. “I know you’re not interested in redemption for yourself, but it is the first and most important step. I just…”
Just what?
“I know you guys have a history. And there was the whole kidnapping thing…both you and Dad…and he did try to, like, perma-murder you…and us…along with half of the city. It’s not easy to forgive something like that, and if you were able to talk things out, that’s amazing! I just…”
“Spit it out, Charlie.” Alastor snapped back a little too quickly.
Charlie blinked back in slight surprise. Vaggi, who had been watching Charlie with concern, was now glaring daggers at Alastor. Husk opened one eye. The rest of the room held their breath at the conversation unfolding.
“I know you do a lot to protect the hotel, but…are you being honest with me? With yourself? I don’t want you to pretend for my sake.”
“Charlie, I have no idea whatever you could mean by that. I don’t do anything I don’t want to. The whole debacle was well within my plans, Vox was never a real threat.”
Charlie’s eyebrows scrunched in concern. “Alastor, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I care about how you feel. You’ve gone through a lot. I…I notice if you’re in pain—“
“I am perfectly fine, Charlie.” The antlers on Alastor’s head began to stretch taller. “I’m stronger than ever right now and well within my capacity to support the hotel. Vox and I have come to a cordial agreement—”
“Does this mean we can start celebrating?”
Niffty suddenly popped up over Alastor’s shoulder, her cheeks propped up on her hands in a gleeful smile.
“Celebrating?”Charlie pondered, a little confused. “Oh, I guess we can…. You’re right, if the Vees are off our backs, that’s great news! Ooh, what should I write on the banner?”
“‘Just Married!’” shouted Niffty, her wide eye squinting in delight.
The rest of the room was dead silent.
“M—married?” Charlie started. “Who—“
“Alastor and Vox! Look!” Niffty pulled up his left hand for all to see, the blue ring of light around his finger gleaming, accompanied by a deafening screech of radio static.
Jaws dropped. Eyes unblinking. Not one word could be uttered aloud from anyone else in the room.
“You said it yourself, right, Alastor? You two agreed on this.” Niffty’s voice grew more into a manic giggle. “We can talk about it now, right? I’ve been waiting for you to tell everyone! I was about ready to burst!”
For the first time in years, maybe decades at this point, Alastor was absolutely speechless. Niffty, of course, was subject to his power, and therefore she couldn’t have revealed this if he did not allow it. So the fact that she was able to say it so freely….
Did he…? No…. This is….
He couldn’t even bring himself to be angry, or vehemently deny anything. His antlers shrank back as he stared, shell-shocked.
“What. The fuck?”
Vaggi was the first to break the silence.
“Married? To Vox? When the fuck would this even—“
“Oh my GOD, I can’t believe Angie’s not here for this—“
“Well, this could’ve gone over better.”
“You fucking knew about this? This is a huge violation of our trust.”
“I thought it was rather obvious, myself. I have noted many instances that pointed to this possible scenario.”
“HEHEHE, I knew you would.”
“Alastor…” Charlie’s serious tone cut through the chaotic chatter. “…You’re not being forced into something for us again, are you?”
Somehow, her reaction was the worst.
Alastor closed his eyes for a brief moment, his smile pressed thinly on his face. “Charlie,” he sighed, and opened his eyes with a tired glance. “As I said, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. We’re not married.” He shot a pointed look at the peanut gallery in the room. “We made a deal. Vox won’t harm me nor I him.”
Well, at least more than superficially. He would still be up for a good fight.
“It’s a truce. An armistice. Simple as that. We had both crossed a line and nearly wiped out existence as a result.” It really was more Vox’s fault, Alastor thought, but he needed to appeal to Charlie’s idealistic morals. And he supposes he may have egged him on, but it was just too easy! “And while I’m always keen for a good slaughter, it’s not quite entertaining when the fun is guaranteed to end. So we talked and came to an agreement, as I said.”
Cherri snorted. “So what’s up with this?” She gestured with her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “You agree to get engaged or something?” Much like Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb seemed to have no fear poking at the Radio Demon, or maybe they both were too foolish to hold back. Either way, Alastor was displeased.
“OOoh that’s right, you didn’t have a wedding, Alastor.” Niffty was vibrating with excitement at this point. “Can I come? I can help!”
This was so much worse than keeping silent.
“A…human wedding?” Charlie’s eyes lit up from concern to something more sparkling, much to Alastor’s dread. “Oh…my…GOSH. We could throw a wedding! Here, at the hotel! It’s the perfect example of how sinners can change!”
What had happened to worrying about Alastor falling under coercion? But it was too late. The magical word “wedding” sent the princess into convoluted fantasy, and she looked on the edge of bursting into another song.
“I mean, you’re right, Alastor. I know that even you wouldn’t take a joke this far. I just was shocked at first…but I haven’t gotten the full story, so I just have to take your word for it.” Charlie beamed with an unsettling fondness at Alastor. “You can take your time telling us. For now, we should be happy for you and celebrate!”
What is happening.
Charlie was already in her own world, launching into plans in rainbow-colored crayon drawings. How the hell did she pull those out so fast? She was chattering at full speed to Vaggi, who slowly eased out of her tense suspicion with a loving smile while her girlfriend went into full planning mode. Cherri and Niffty eventually joined in, and—oh dear, Charlie had started a vision board.
On the other side of the room, Baxter resumed his morning review of notes, the events just now wholly expected and therefore, uninteresting. Meanwhile, Husk had his face completely buried in his arm on the table, his body shaking with laughter and trying not to draw his boss’s ire. But damn, this was better than he expected.
At least someone found this entertaining, Alastor thought with a roll of his eyes. He may as well get something out of this, too—turn the humiliation around. And he knew just whose buttons to push. He sent out a brief transmission, on a private frequency that hadn’t seen use in a long time.
Vincent.
A jolt of static, a significant pause. Followed at last by a stuttering response.
Y—yeah, Alastor?
It seems we will need to start planning the wedding.
Across the city, at Vee Tower, the power went out explosively, a blackout fizzling in waves throughout the entire pentagram. By the time the outage reached the hotel, Alastor cackled.
Oh, this will be fun.