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Alastor’s soul.
Vox didn't even know that was on the table, but holy fuck Lilith really wanted 51% of VoxTek and was willing to bargain dirty to get it.
Vox thinks he's probably going to regret this at some point. But that point is not today.
The other Vees are mad at him for weakening his control of the business for a personal trifle, but in the end, the rest of the deal isn’t bad either, so they can’t say he didn’t negotiate well. VoxTek is moving into military tech and now he can compete with Carmilla. After all, there’s a war coming, isn’t there?
And it's hell so Vox really can do whatever he wants with Alastor. He could kill him. He can fuck him. He could torture him. He could make him work for VoxTek and fulfill all three in one stroke. Vox feels his thoughts logjam with the possibilities.
What does he want?
He doesn't want to move too fast at first. He should just test the waters without letting Alastor know anything has changed.
This is the first overlords meeting Vox has been excited about in a long time. He’s owned many souls as an overlord, so he is familiar with the control he can exert. He’s practiced from the years, but it’s always a bit different with a new soul. He doesn’t want to give it away all at once; he’d like to see Alastor squirm to figure out what’s going on.
He waits until the meeting is in full swing. And then, when Alastor goes to make another comment, Vox tugs at that invisible chain, and Alastor can’t speak. The look on his face almost makes Vox lose it right there, but he holds it together, just watching. He lets go and Alastor relaxes somewhat.
He waits a bit longer and sees his moment when Alastor goes to stand up in defense of his point. Vox pulls with his hand under the table and Alastor is yanked back into his seat. There’s a few confused glances from the rest of the group, but the argument is heated enough that most of them are too busy to notice anything out of the ordinary. Vox for his part, yells some of his own arguments to distract any suspicion.
This is fantastic.
He feels Alastor reach out through that chain, and Vox shuts it down. He feels Alastor reach out to Lilith and he cuts it off as well. No point in him getting answers that quickly. This is way too much fun. He’ll let him talk to her tonight. If she’ll even answer.
Alastor is internally freaking out. What the hell is going on? Lilith has never impeded him in things like this before. She’s never cared a whit what Alastor does in his own time. And this felt so random and petty, with no rhyme or reason to what he could and couldn’t do. At least he doesn’t think anyone else knew he was being hindered. Except for garnering a few strange looks from Vox, his behaviour had stayed within the normal for that group.
He reaches out again to Lilith and this time there’s no block. He appears in front of her.
“Alastor. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
That is even more concerning. Didn’t she notice anything had happened?
“I had an unusual thing happen this afternoon. You didn’t notice any intrusions on our contract?”
“Our contract? He hasn’t told you yet?” She laughs lightly. “I sold your contract last week.”
Alastor’s face is frozen in an extreme grin. “You what?”
“There were no hard feelings, it was just business. I need VoxTek working for me for the upcoming future.”
The point hits Alastor immediately. His teeth grind.
“You sold my contract to Vox?”
“I’m sorry, it was nothing personal.”
Alastor knows better than to start a fight with the Queen of Hell but holy does he want to. He spends a few more seconds thinking frantically before he realises that he’s just wasting her time at this point.
“Well, I hope you will continue to think of me as a friend and valuable partner, as I do you. Perhaps we shall work together again in the future.” He bows deeply.
“Quite,” her response is tepid, but she is smiling. “You are dismissed Alastor.”
He disappears in a swirl of smoke.
Well, this explains the meeting. Damn that Vox sitting there and laughing at him without saying anything! This is… This is unacceptable. What is he going to do? What is Vox going to do? Alastor needs to plan. He needs time to figure out the game here.
He feels a tug at that omnipresent shackle at his neck. The hair on the back of his arms stands up in anger. Of course the ruse is up now, no point in Vox hiding himself any longer. It’s a signal to appear. No obstructions on the magic now; Alastor can feel that it leads straight to the Vees’ tower. He hesitates, trying to quickly formulate a plan when the pull comes again, stronger this time. Alastor doesn’t want to be dragged if he can avoid it. He should actually be impressed that Vox gave him two chances before forcing him.
Alastor takes a deep breath as he dissolves.
Vox is sitting in a desk chair with dozens of screens behind him.
“Vox.” Alastor dips his head in greeting and ignores Vox’s grin widening in response. “It would appear that we have business together.”
“Ahahaha, oh Jesus, this is so much better than I expected!” Vox cackles for a moment. Alastor stands still and waits. Vox stands up and walks toward him. “Holy shit, this is real. I feel like I’m dreaming.” Vox circles around Alastor. “The fucking Radio Demon, here. On a leash. On MY leash.” Alastor whips his eyes to meet Vox’s in defiance, but he says nothing. Vox laughs again. “This is. This is too good. This is unreal.” He pokes at Alastor’s chest, and Alastor’s grin widens ever so slightly.
“Whoo. Oh boy.” Vox chuckles again as he walks back to his desk. “Um. Anyway. I haven’t decided what I’m doing with you yet.”
Alastor turns his head in confusion. He’d been preparing to take damage. Vox is not generally one for delaying gratification.
Vox falls into his chair, a broad smile across his screen.
“Did you call me here just to tell me you don’t know what you want me to do?” Alastor’s tone has too much of his normal snark and he sees the reaction in Vox immediately.
“Yes.” Vox enunciates clearly, leaning forward in his chair. “Because I can do that. Because I can call you here for no reason at all if I want. Because your every breath is at my whim now.” He jerks the now-visible chains, tightening Alastor’s arms to his chest and dragging him forward and down to his knees. “And you’d do better to remember that.”
Alastor plasters on a tame version of his smile and says nothing.
“Leave now, I’m busy,” Vox says.
Alastor is gone as soon as the chains loosen.
This is insufferable! How is he supposed to put up with being at this idiot’s beck and call? What does Vox even want? Alastor realises that he’d been expecting something physical. He’s not even sure what. But their fights have always leaned toward the intimate. Alastor realises he’d assumed that Vox would push that immediately given half the opportunity.
Vox’s brain is running in overdrive. This is real. That was Alastor on his knees in front of him. Vox can imagine every wretched situation he’s ever thought of playing out. He imagines Alastor tied up. Alastor as his secretary. Alastor getting spanked for mouthing off. Showing him off at one of Val’s nightclubs. Vox fucking him in his radio booth, with Alastor's noises on broadcast.
Vox takes his dick in hand and pulls up the footage he has of Alastor. He plays back Alastor chained on his knees and imagines it without that suit on. He imagines those chains digging into Alastor’s skin, and then imagines his fingers digging in instead. His cock is hard and he rubs over the head. He can envision that redhead’s mouth swallowing him down. He bucks into his hand imagining those ears twitching. Vox thinks about pushing Alastor over his desk, video in real time playing his face back on the monitors in front of them both as he thrusts into that tight body.
Vox grips himself tighter as he imagines Alastor whining beneath him. He wants to know what sounds he’ll make for real. He thinks about holding Alastor still and going down on him. What would he sound like in orgasm? What would he sound like with Vox’s hand inside of him? Searching out just the right places. What would he look like spread open on Vox’s bed? Vox speeds up his fist as he nears the end. He pants as he thinks about all of it, getting to explore that body, getting to learn what turns Alastor on, what he responds to. He comes in his hand, and slumps back into his chair.
This could be good.
Alastor is resigned to doing whatever Vox wants. Until Alastor can escape this deal, he’ll have to put up with what’s requested of him. Alastor made this bed years ago, now he has to sleep in it.
He’s expecting it when he’s summoned by Vox the next evening.
It’s Vox’s personal living room this time. Vox looks relaxed. He’s sitting on the couch and he gestures Alastor over.
Alastor acquiesces. Vox immediately wraps an arm around his shoulders and Alastor stiffens up.
The TV is playing and Vox says nothing.
After ten minutes, Alastor speaks up, “Is there something you need from me?”
Vox rolls his eyes. “Are you capable of relaxing at all?”
Alastor takes a breath and sits back again. Until Vox’s other hand is sliding up his leg.
“Do you need the farce of this insipid programming for this?” Alastor waves at whatever nonsense is playing on the television.
“God, you’re aggravating,” Vox says but there’s no bite to it. He turns the TV to music instead and moves closer to Alastor.
He tips Alastor’s chin towards him. Their faces are close. It’s not the first time they’ve been in such close proximity, and it makes them both think back to past encounters. Their blood rushing, their muscles aching, and skin bruised and battered. Breathing in the same air.
“You can’t tell me you never thought about this. Never wanted this.”
“Hm, it’s hard to tell now.” Alastor’s teeth are gritted.
“You protest too much.” Vox leans in to kiss him, and Alastor lets it happen but all the tension drains out of Alastor’s face, leaving him slack.
Vox pulls back to look at him. Alastor has a half-hearted smirk left on his face.
“Kiss better,” Vox demands. Alastor’s lip curls but he dives at Vox and fulfils the request. Vox wrestles against him, their arms fighting for a grip on each other. He pins Alastor down on the couch and stops to take a breath. Alastor still looks bored.
“Doesn’t this make you feel anything?”
"I hold up my end of a deal."
Vox growls. “Is that what you call this?”
“I’m sorry, where does it say you get to control how I feel?”
“Oh, I forgot you have to always control that. You can’t ever just let yourself actually feel anything. Even when you know you’d enjoy it.”
“It is somewhat more difficult at the moment.”
"Can't you just... act like yourself?"
"This is myself. Do you want me to put on a performance like Angel Dust?"
"No! Just. Be more like your usual self."
Alastor's eyes flash in defiance and that's what Vox is looking for, but it's gone as soon as Alastor complies. “You mean to call you out on your insurmountable idiocy?” Alastor grabs at Vox’s throat.
He's saying the right words, making the right moves, but it's hollow. Every hit, every insult, is grating at Vox in the wrong way. Alastor's not even a bad actor, he’s taking his obligations seriously, but acting is not what Vox wants. That fire in Alastor’s eyes is gone and it just makes Vox feel ill. There’s a hand pressing into his crotch but Vox’s stomach turns.
“Stop. Get the fuck off me.” Vox rubs his screen where his temples would be. “What is wrong with you?”
Alastor’s eyes widen almost comically in holding back his retort. “If you wanted a real fight, perhaps you should choose partners who can object.”
“You’re a terrible loser.”
“You’re a terrible winner.”
“At least I won.”
"Did you? Enjoy it while you have it. See if I don’t kill you in the end."
Vox is done with this charade. He doesn’t feel threatened. But he feels tired. “Go where you want for tonight. I’m going to bed.” Alastor tests his ability to disappear, and Vox doesn’t stop him.
Vox sighs in frustration after Alastor's melted into blackness. This is garbage. Trust Alastor to never do what you want him to, even when all you want is for him to be annoying enough to fuck through the mattress. This should be easy, how is he fucking this up?
Alastor reflects on this mess. He can admit that what Vox wants had crossed his mind a time or two in the past. It’s possible that he might even have been willing to sleep with Vox before all this. He had occasionally envisioned something more between them. Vox isn’t delusional that Alastor had flirted back. He just hadn’t expected things to jump this fast. Perhaps he’d never really considered that Vox might get one over on him and, thus, hadn’t worried about what he might have been implying in that case.
But that's dead now. Their game is over. Vox thinks he’s won? Screw that. Alastor will do what he has to do and leave as soon as he can find a way.
***
Vox has told him to always agree with him in meetings, and for the most part Alastor finds this a reasonable task. Vox doesn’t have ideas that are overly idiotic too often. But sometimes there are things he’s not properly considering.
Vox has been a light touch lately and Alastor is forgetting himself when he brings up an aggressive counterpoint. He thinks it would have slipped by if Zestial hadn’t latched onto it, completely derailing Vox’s goal.
“What the fuck was that?” Vox and Alastor are alone in Vox’s rooms.
“I apologise, I should have found a more tactful way to bring it up.”
“You fucking think?! It’s going to take me weeks to get them back on board!” Vox paces the floor. “Fuck!” He whips Alastor’s chains, slamming him to the floor. Alastor’s arms are roped behind his back. He’s actually been surprised that Vox has been holding back in this regard for months now. “You fucking…” Vox sighs in aggravation. “What do I even fucking do with you.”
He pulls Alastor into the air to look at him. Alastor’s rage is simmering just beneath the surface. Vox throws him into a pillar and Alastor winces and slumps to the ground. Alastor picks himself up, dusting off his jacket and watching to see what Vox will do next. The wary resignation is nothing that Vox wants to see.
Vox thinks about telling Alastor to suck his cock. But he can see it play out in his mind and it’s not what he wants at all. He wants the natural push-back of Alastor giving in to his desires not this flatness of Alastor pushing down his instincts.
Keeping Alastor around isn’t even worth it when he doesn’t respond the way he should.
Vox is roiling in anger. This should be everything he's ever wanted! Why is it so empty? He knows Alastor has desires; Vox isn’t blind, he can see it. But if Alastor won’t pursue his own wants even when he has the excuse of being ordered to, then what’s the point?
Vox can see now that he was never going to win over Alastor. The whole thing had been a joke from the start. There was never any way to get what he really wanted.
“Go home.” Vox doesn’t wait for an answer before zapping through a screen and away from the room.
Charlie was surprised by the call. Vox has never really even considered Charlie as a player on the same stage as him. She knows that, and also knew it was generally for the best to keep off the radar of the overlords, so it never concerned her.
She also knew that something had been strange between Alastor and Vox lately. Everyone knew of their rivalry, but it had been different recently. Alastor’s vitriol at home had increased but his statements in public had all but stopped. She’d suspected that Vox might have been blackmailing Alastor, but she hadn’t predicted the truth.
Vox had offered Alastor’s soul to her outright and asked if she had anything to make the deal worthwhile. Charlie hated making deals. She grew up seeing the worst sides of them and was never confident in protecting herself like her father was. She asked Vox what he wanted and was confused by his lack of enthusiasm. Eventually she’d suggested a favour. She’s not as naïve as everyone thinks. She knows a favour from the Princess of Hell is valuable currency, regardless of her frivolous reputation.
Vox goes for it without further negotiation and it’s another red flag in Charlie’s book, but she can’t pass up the chance to get Alastor’s soul back.
“Aren’t you worried that he’s going to retaliate?”
Vox merely shrugs. “He can do what he pleases now. Or what you please, I suppose. I expect it will work out to much the same.” It’s bizarre to see Vox with such a lack of emotion, he’s usually such a constantly expressive person.
“Thank you, Vox.”
“Thank you, princess. I’m making out the better in this deal, that’s for sure.”
When Charlie tells him, Alastor feels his soul easily push past all the bounds that have been on him for far too long. He inhales deeply, his chest opening up and filling with air in a way he’d forgotten he was capable of. And then he stops. Charlie still owns him. Just because she’s not familiar or not comfortable with controlling souls doesn’t mean he should take that for granted.
Charlie catches his worries immediately though. She chews at her lip. She knows that Alastor is still dangerous despite his outwardly helpful intentions.
“I don’t. I don’t want to keep your soul, Alastor. But if I give it back to you, you have to make some promises.”
Alastor won’t believe it until the deal is signed. He’s gotten his hopes up too many times in the past.
Vox relinquished his soul? Alastor had not predicted this. Why would the man let him go, when he hadn’t even gotten what he wanted yet? He’d barely had Alastor do anything besides back him up in overlord discussions and get dragged out to bars on Vox’s arm. And Alastor knows he hadn’t quite been satisfactory at those tasks either. Alastor is lucky he didn’t get killed. He’s lucky that he has some value to someone as important as Charlie, but it’s still dangerous to sell a soul like Alastor, knowing that it might come back to haunt you. Vox must have gotten something pretty worthwhile from Charlie to take that risk.
Alastor signs the new deal with a flourish, delighted to be the one making decisions about his own self again. He can’t say it wasn’t worth selling his soul in the first place, who knows where he’d be now otherwise, but there were certainly moments when he regretted it. His power surges beyond all past limits and it feels good. All he had to agree to was to not harm Charlie or those she cares about, as well as not to impede her goals to redeem sinners, and that was certainly an easy choice to make.
“What are you going to do to Vox?” asks Charlie timidly.
Alastor’s form glitches, blackening and looming, but it seems to fizzle out. Charlie watches him resume his normal form.
“Aha, my dear! I suppose we shall all have to wait and see, hm?” he teases, but it feels off to Charlie.
“I guess everyone gets what they deserve eventually,” Charlie muses.
“Yes, quite.” It sticks in his thoughts as Charlie walks away.
What Vox deserves. In the past, he would have said a painful death no question. So how is that contestable now, after Vox bought and sold him and treated him… like he did. He’d never taken what Alastor had expected. And then he’d sold him to someone Vox had to have known would set him free. What a stupid move. A suicidal move. What was Vox thinking?