Trintrin0919
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Summary
A month after the disaster, Vox (Vincent) pays dearly for his fatal obsession with Alastor: Val and Vel bury him in a hell of endless paperwork inside V Tower—broken contracts, demonic lawsuits, never-ending audits. No screens, no control, only suffocating bureaucracy meant to humiliate him for nearly destroying everyone.
At the same time, in the blood-scented streets of Cannibal Town, Rosie confronts Alastor in her private parlor. With a razor-sharp smile and a venomous voice, she demands:
—Give me back your soul, Alastor.
He refuses, his smile intact, but nervous static crackles in the air.
—I warned you what would happen if you tried to tear out your roots by force—she continues, lower now. —Not because you aren’t capable… but because you weren’t made to survive what lies beneath.
Alastor freezes, eyes sparking with genuine shock; his smile falters for an instant as something ancient and dark throbs in the shadows behind him.
Rosie sighs, almost cruel:
—Don’t make me choose between protecting you… or stopping you.
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Summary
About a month after Vox's failed takeover of Heaven, Baxter drags in his dismembered body through the hotel lounge. The sight leaves Alastor to wonder what has become of Vox, so he gets an idea and decides to pay him a visit. The two strike a deal, and now Vox has his body back, but he is stuck at the hotel, and Alastor gets to bask in his humiliation. Vox slowly realises something is going on behind the front. Alastor puts on, and what was once an unrequited love on Vox's end might not be so unrequited anymore.
Or
Vox regrets making a deal with Alastor at first, and somehow, things start looking up for the two of them.
Chapters Written: 39/?
Chapters Posted: 36/?
Chapters w/Art: 2,3,4,5,7,10,11,15,16,19,21,
23,27,29,31,33,34,36 -
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Summary
Alastor huffed, leaning forward, voice rising with that familiar theatrically sharp edge. “Do you think I am amused? That this this deliberate avoidance would go unnoticed? That your petty games, your careful withdrawal, would not rattle me, gnaw at my patience?!” He gestured wildly, as though the air itself had been complicit in Vox’s crimes. “I am not accustomed to being ignored! Not by anyone! Certainly not by you!”
A pause. Vox leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk now, fingers tapping in silent rhythm. And then words. Complete sentences. Complete thoughts.
“I’ve lost myself in you for too long,” Vox said, and Alastor’s breath caught slightly at the weight behind the voice. “I’ve missed out on so many friendships, so much love. I don’t blame you. I did it to myself, really falling for the Radio Demon’s trap. You’re an enigma. It’s not your fault. It’s your nature.”
The words landed like blunt instruments against Alastor’s carefully constructed armour. He froze, cane halfway lifted, mouth opening and closing like a puppet caught mid performance.
or the one where vox tries (and fails) to move on.
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Summary
Vox's punishment can't really match the crime without being, what some princesses would consider, "unethical," but Sera thinks of the next best thing. Vox will start his road to redemption with a clean(er) slate. In his human body!
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Summary
When the other Vees don't show up to stop Vox, Alastor is forced to, once again, save the day himself. He offers to make Vox a deal. One martini in exchange for saving the world.
Of course, every deal made in Hell has much more to it than what the words alone say. Their personal history with the cocktail goes back to the 1960's, a brand new sinner named Vincent getting the lay of Hell, a wide-smiling patron of the arts, and an utter refusal to ever define a relationship.
It's a love story, if you squint.