Chapter Text
Vox walked through the quite halls of his tower, eyes focused on the paperwork in his hands. It wasn’t an unusual sight for the workaholic overlord. Even after forcing his employees to stay late, he was usually the last one here; checking over mistakes, signing checks, and making sure everything kept his empire running smoothly & efficiently. He strode forward, not looking ahead and seemingly unbothered by the quiet atmosphere. He knew the building by heart, and any direct line to his personal office especially.
He finally reached his destination, opening the door and stepping into his personal sanctuary.
“Hm?”
He finally looked up, off put by the darkness. He always set the lights to automatically turn on whenever someone entered. They were definitely working when he was here just a few hours ago looking over something on his computer. Thankfully for once that his mechanical head acted as a natural light source, he turned toward to the wall searching for the switch.
‘Off? Who the fuck did that?‘
Confusion and anger set across his screen. His employees knew better to mess with his office or otherwise end up fish food. ‘Must have been some new intern or cleaning staff’
Sighing in defeat, his shoulders slumping at having to fix someone else’s fuck up, he approached the switch dejectedly.
‘Just another mess I have to clea-WAOH!’
Before he knew it, something wrapped around his ankle and lifted him upside down. The papers formerly in his hand scattered around like snow, launched by the momentum of whatever mechanism entrapped him
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” He tried to steady himself as he looked at the wire wrapped around his leg, suspending him upside down. ‘Seriously!? A rope trap?’
“About time you showed up.”
A voice sounded off in the darkness, alerting the still trapped and upside down Vox to look forward for his assailant. Unfortunately, his current predicament meant he could only see their legs from his vantage point. Not that it helped conceal their identity. He’d know those legs anywhere. Bright white ballet slippers leading up to sensual legs wrapped with white leggings in a crisscrossed X pattern. He tilted his head up just to confirm nonetheless
“Carmilla! What’s a surprise! I didn’t peg you for someone into ropleplay. Not that I’m complaining. What’s the occasion?”
Vox effortlessly slipped into his ever charming professional persona - sharp smile, eyebrow raised, even maneuvering his arms behind his head and his free leg crossed over the still his trapped one. As if she had just caught him lounging in his office instead of ensnaring him in a trap.
The other overlord steeped fully forward, now illuminated in the darkness by vox’s ever present light projected from his screen. Hands perched on her hips and eyes bearing down at him with a cold, impassive look. A beat passed between them as she waited for him to change his tune or react in any meaningful way. The only occurence being vox’s smile becoming slightly more strained as he struggled to maintain his relaxed position under his current predicament.
With a sigh and roll of her eyes, she took hold of the rope holding up his leg and gave it a tight pull. The momentum bringing him eye level with Carmilla and shaking his previous false bravado. She tied off the rope on his nearby desk and took hold of his screen between her large hands.
“I thought I’d give you a reminder of what today is, since you seem to have forgotten.” She spoke to him impassively, looking for a reaction or a hint of recognition for what she was referring to.
“Today? Uh, today! Yeah, totally! I would never forget…your birthday?” Vox made a wild guess, his eyes trying to discreetly look at the calendar on his wall behind her.
“Ugh! Vox! I can’t believe you forgot our anniversary!” She spun the suspended overlord with a half-hearted push against his head, stepping away so her back was to him and crossing her arms in frustration.
“Anniversary!? No! No, I definitely did NOT forget our anniversary, baby. I even marked a reminder on my phone, I’m sure of it!” He frantically searched for the cellphone on his person, finding it in his jacket pocket and searching for the evidence of his innocence.
“See! I knew I didn’t forget! It’s not for another month, we’ve got plenty of time! And I promise it’ll be a spectacular weekend away. No business, just you and me!” He happily shoved the phone forward to show her, glad he was actually right this time and not just making shit up yo save his ass like he was prone to do.
Carmilla still had her back to him, but he could tell from the silhouette cast the darkness that her head had dropped slightly, seemingly disappointed by his response.
“…Not that Anniversary Vox. You know what I’m talking about.” She turned toward him, her expression sad and wistful that he truly seemed to have forgotten what this day meant to her.
“But that was our first date. If you don’t mean that, then what other day could you be talking…about…oh.” Vox’s expression turned from genuine confusion to a depressed stupor as he realized what day she was referring to. His eyes turned downward and his arms flopped to his sides in defeat, the phone quickly dropping onto the floor.
“…You know I don’t like celebrating that day” his voice was quiet and distant, his head off in another world as he recalled the events that lead to the day she was referring to.
Carmilla approached him again, her expression softened after his seeing his distraught state. She cradled his head between her hands, gently this time rather than the stronghold she had earlier to assert dominance.
“But it’s our 50th today…I thought you would make an exception this time. And you still won’t tell me what happened that day before! What REALLY happened? Please Mi Amor?” She pleaded with him.
Vox took one of her hands in his own and matched her own stare, trying not to look away and ignore her like he did previous years. Remembering every time he’d brush her off on this day, saying he’d make it up tomorrow or saying the anniversary of their first date was just a much bigger priority to him. But the truth is he just didn’t like thinking about it…at least not what happened before he met her
“…Fine! Just …let me out of this stupid thing and let’s at least get home. I need a stiff drink if I’m gonna spill my guts.” He finally relented, crossing his arms indignantly and trying not to smirk at the way her face lit up.
“Oh Vincent! Thank you! I promise you won’t regret this. We can’t take things one step at a time and then celebrate properly.” Carmilla exclaimed. She quickly raised her leg in a high kick, using the her angelic steel heels to slice the rope holding up Vox-
“Oof!”
-and dropping him unceremoniously into her waiting arms. She let him down gently, and he quickly straightened his suit and tried to make himself presentable. He spotted tears forming in Carmella’s eyes from their heated conversation and brought a clawed hand up to carefully wipe them away. She gripped that hand within her own, kissing his palm in silent thanks.
“Carmilla. Beleive me.” Not Trust. That was the bullshit line he used with everyone else. Not Carmilla
“What happened that day, I don’t regret anything. The good, the bad and everything in between. It all led up to meeting you and I wouldn’t change one damn thing.”
More tears gathered in her eyes as she took in his proclamation.
“Thank you Vincent…that means so much to hear you say that.” She embraced him and he returned the gesture. Vox sighed as he tried to enjoy the moment. Just them, alone in the dark, holding each other.
His apprehension at telling her the whole story rose as he recalled the events that led to the day in question. He wasn’t lying when he said it was important to him. It was one of the best days of his life because of what came out of it.
The day when he first met Carmilla Carmine, when he joined her as business partners and started a successful empire together as overlords. A relationship that would evolve into romance, marriage, and true partners in every sense of the word. But he only gained such a great partner after losing another.
‘But I guess we never partners…not even friends’
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50 years ago, in a secluded bar on the outskirts of the pride ring, sat two up and coming overlords. Alastor, the radio demon, and a younger Vox. They’d meet up at this bar probably at least once a week to swap stories of their conquest or to trade information that would increase their respective influence & territory. And tonight, Vox had a very important prospective to bring to Alastor’s attention.
“Well, look, I'll just get to the point. We've been close for a few years now, right? I mean, people know US, they love US. And with new Overlords popping up every day, and before you hit me with a, "Well, you're pretty new yourself." I know, okay, but I'm much more forward-thinking, so it's in your best interest to hear me out.” Vox prattled on, trying to get on alastor’s good side with complements and even doing a small impression of his static radio voice he knew always got at least a small chuckle out of the deer sinner.
“I'm listening, pal. Barkeep, another whiskey.” Alastor’s voice answered him. His claw tapping on the bar to order another drink. The barkeep complies promptly and Alastor tosses a coin to the him in thanks.
Vox smiles and looks away. Electricity flows and crackles between his two antennae. ‘Right…here’s goes nothing. I mean, the worst he can say is no…’
“So, I've been thinking. Alastor, with your incredible power and my massive influence, we would be unstoppable. Radio AND video. Me and you-- we could rule Hell, together, as partners.” Vox finally gives Alastor his proposal, standing up spreading his arms; as if welcoming Alastor to the idea. He’d even grabbed the red demon’s shoulders mid way through his speech to emphasize his point, just like he’d done in dozens of his other successful business propositions. Surely that would endear him to his old friend.
He stretched out a clawed hand waiting for a him to return the gesture, only for Alastor to start chuckling. A small chuckle quickly evolved into a mad cackling laugh, throwing his head back. Vox’s joyful expression dropped in confusion, even his outstretched hand wavering and eventually returning to his side.
“Oh, that's- Oh, you're serious? Ah-ha-ha, come now, Vox! I knew you could be pathetic at times, but I didn't realize you were so WEAK.” Alastor’s hysterical laughter evolved into full on banging on the table, disturbing the other guests and bring everyone’s attention to the two overlords. Not that they’d ever dare say anything to quiet them down or otherwise ensure their wrath.
“ haha…What?” Vox chuckled weakly, utterly confused by his friend’s outburst and accusations towards him. He just stood there in stunned silence, the smile he wore proudly just a second ago now completely wiped clean from his face. ‘Weak? Pathetic? What’s happening right now?’
“ Oh, fuck! You need me to join your team. And here I thought you might actually be approaching my level, but asking for assistance? A partnership? I am quite disappointed in you.” Alastor’s turned to look at him fully, now over his laughing fit. But now instead of laughter and mirth, he seemed to look at him now with nothing but pity in his eyes.
Vox looks down, distraught by his words. He sits down at the bar, or more like drops, not sure is he can stand much longer after such a thorough tongue lashing from someone he thought he was close to.
“ I- I just thought, you know, since we're friends-“ Vox begins, his vision blurring as he looks down towards his hands.
“FRIENDS?!” Alastor’s response startles him out of his distress. He spoke it like it was venom on his tongue.
“There ARE no friends in Hell, Vincent! I thought that was something you understood. How embarrassing.” Alastor’s laughing continued, and Vox finally broke out of his stunned reaction, anger and hurt clear on his face.
It was mostly a blurr after that, his rage getting the better of him in that moment. He knew from reports later that he and Alastor fought. He remembered Alastor standing over him at the end of the encounter, Vox’s own body half buried in the rubble of the building they destroyed together. The former bar patrons running away and screaming in fear. Everything on fire.
Alastor was looking down at him with an estatic smile, clearly enjoying getting to beat down on vox and assert his own power over the TV overlord . Alastor reached downward and gripped one of the antennae atop Vox’s head and bent it an unatrual angle. He said something to him, or at least Vox assumed he said something. His lips were moving as he gestured with his radio staff in the other hand. He couldn’t really hear anything over the ringing in his ears and pain overtaking him. Seemingly finished, Alastor let out a sigh of disapproval and disappeared into shadows.
‘Fucking bastard…couldn’t even have the decency to finish me off…’ Vox laid there in the rubble defeated, replaying their conversation in his head over & over again. His expression shifting as he contemplated everything Alastor told him.
He tried to lift his body out of the debris, but groaned in defiance and flopped back down. The memory kept replaying, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He flashed back to all the years they’d seemingly bonded together at this bar, now destroyed and the remains lay in a burning pile of rubble & ash. He closed his eyes and took a breath to calm his emotions. But the only thing he could focus on was the memory of alastor’s laugh, mocking him and berating him.
‘Alastor…’
sparks of electricity started flickering around his body. His claw twitching by his side as he forced his body to move in spite of the pain
‘Alastor…’
More sparks flew from his body and a a steady electric current started forming around him. Small pieces of debris were starting to rise in the air around the current. Vox finally opened his eyes, his face becoming distorted and filled with static as energy exploded from him.
‘Alastor!‘
A lightning bolt shot upward, creating an explosion of brick & glass at where Vox laid previously. He stood now, The bolt of electricity he expelled freeing him from his prone position under the destroyed bar. He was breathing heavily, a mixture of exhaustion and righteous anger overtaking him. He looked around the abandoned street, somehow expecting Alastor to be waiting there. But there was no one. All the bar patrons had run for the hills or died in the initial fight. It was just him, standing atop the trash and debris of his crushed dreams.
“Agh! That FUCKING prick!” He screamed into the sky, more bolts of lightning flying off him in random arcs.
“You think you just get to reject me and leave me here! No one treats me like that and gets away with it!” He gathered his hands together and shot another lightning bolt into the sky, not aiming at anything, just venting into the endless void of hell’s night sky.
“I swear…if it’s the last thing I do-“
He wrapped his arms around himself, more electric currents rapidly forming around his body. Random offshoots started sparking around the debris and starting small explosions here or there.
“I’ll wipe that stupid fucking smile off your face! ALASTOR!!!” He raised his arms and released the charge he’d been holding in, a massive lighting bolt reaching high into the night sky and briefly illuminating the abandoned street corner.
Vox stood there for a moment, hands still outstretched and bathing in the fading light of his outburst. But the adrenaline from his anger soon wore off and he slouched over in exhaustion, breathing heavily and holding his side in pain.
“Oh shit…oh fuck…I really shouldn’t have done that…ugh!” He stumbled forward, nearly tripping down the path atop the rubble as he descended downward. He finally reached solid ground and took a moment look back one final time at the remains of the bar. A glint of light from underneath a crushed shelf caught his eye. He kicked over the broken wood to reveal a bottle of scotch that had somehow survived all the drama.
“Well, Would ya look at that.” Vox reached down to grab the bottle, his body groaning in defiance. He picked it up, unscrewed the cap, and held it high over his head; hoping to drown his sorrow in booze and maybe forget this night ever happened. But the liquid never touched his lips.
(BANG!)
A gunshot rang out and the bottle in his hands exploded. Vox took a second to process what just happened. He stared at the liquid gold dripping from his hand and the glass from the bottle on the ground, joining its brethren among the remains of the debris from the bar.
“Who has the BALLS! to shoot at ME!” Vox screamed in indignation, electricity building around him. Although it was much less than he previously summoned.
Vox turned to wear he heard the shot rang out. Across the street, he spotted a shadowy figure hiding behind a trash can. It looked like they were holding a sniper rifle. The figure shouldered the rifle and slowly back stepped into the darkness of the alley beyond the street, as if challenging him.
Vox rushed forward, his pain all but forgotten in his anger & fury.
“Oh hell no! You think you get to fire off a round at me and then walk away! Not a chance! I can’t kill Alastor, but I can sure as hell rip you limb from limb! GET BACK HERE!!!”
He reached the entry to the alley, but had to stop and catch his breath. He was barely clinging to consciousness at this point. His body bent forward and hands clutched his knees to keep himself standing. He looked up and spotted the would-be assassin just beyond a streetlight hanging overhead.
Now illuminated by the light, he could make out their appearance better. A humanoid sinner in a skin tight black outfit. A woman, if he had to guess, judging by the wider hips and long legs. They had a mask and hood pulled over their head, but he could still make out their eyes; blood red with glowing white Iris’ and slitted pupils. Her most notable feature by far were the large forearms and hands. They almost looked like massive gloves at first glance. She was just standing there, the sniper rifle holstered over her shoulder.
Vox stood straight on wobbly legs, glaring with all the hatred he could muster at the woman.
“Who the FUCK do you think you are?” Vox whispered under his breath, uncaring if she heard him.
She didn’t reply verbally, keeping the same impassive stare she’d worn since he stopped in front of her. Instead She simply lifted a hand up and made a ‘come here’ gesture, like she wanted him to approach her.
‘Seriously?’ Vox raised an eyebrow in confusion. ‘Whatever. She’ll be dead in a second anyway!’
Vox rushed forward, his only focus on the woman in front of him. As soon as he came within arm’s reach, she jumped back. Vox’s claw swung at thin air.
“Goddamnit! Will you stop playing these stupid games and fight me alre-WAOH!” He took another step forward but found himself quickly lifted into the air by a rope that had snagged his ankle. ‘She set a trap!’
Vox swung back and forth upside down, the rope holding him up being leveraged by the overhead street light.
“AGH! Bitch! Let me down! Who the fuck even are you? What did I ever do to you!?” Vox knew it was a stupid question as soon as it left his lips. It was Hell. People killed each other for no reason all the time.
Vox flailed angrily in the trap, trying to cut the rope from his hanging position or use what little power he had left to zap it. But the damn thing wasn’t budging! like it was shock proof or something. At best, he just caused the streetlight to glitch out.
The female assassin stepped forward from her safe position beyond his grasp. She lightly pushed him, causing his dangling form to swing in a circular motion. He spotted two more similarly black outfitted figures hiding just out of sight behind a dumpster. They wore masks, but not hoods like the woman. One had pale skin, blonde hair and large glasses while the other had darker skin and curly hair.
He swung back around to face the woman, her hand grabbing his boxy TV head to stop him from swinging forward anymore. While she kept one hand on his head, she used the other to remove her mask and hood. Her face fully revealed, he took a moment to take in her appearance.
Her skin was ashen and grey, with a darker pattern surrounding her nose & eyes. It almost resembled a masquerade mask. Her lips were painted black and he could see fangs peeking just beyond. Her hair was bright white, save a single streak of grey that carried out to her bangs. It was styled in a way that made it seem like she had small horns atop her head. He’d already seen her eyes through the mask, but now with the full picture they seemed to stare even more intensely at him.
“Who am I?” She finally spoke up, waking Vox from the small trance he’d been in since she revealed her face. He noticed her voice had a distinct accent. Hispanic or Spanish maybe?
she brought Vox’s head closer to her face now, gripping it with both of her large hands and fully illuminating herself in the static from his screen.
“My name is Carmilla Carmine. And from this point forward, YOU and your power belong to ME!” She angrily declared to him, getting as close to his face as possible.
Vox’s expression changed to pure fury at the insinuation. He grabbed her hands holding his head and attempted to struggle free again. But before he could put up a proper fight, something hard and metal smashed into the back of his head.
Everything went black…
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“-and that’s when Odette cold clocked me with a metal pipe from behind.” Vox finished retelling the story of how they met. He handed a glass of scotch to Carmilla, the weapon overlord taking it gratefully from her place sat upon their shared bed.
They’d retreated to their room so Vox could tell his story in private, Carmilla listening all the while with rapt attention. And just as he promised, he brought out some drinks from his private stash to ease the frustration of having to retell the memory of his parting with Alastor.
Carmilla smiled fondly at the Vox’s last remark. She took a sip of her drink and finally chimed in.
“You’re not still mad about that, are you? I’d have done the deed myself, but I thought it better to have your attention on me than risk the girls’ safety.” She reached upward with her free hand to grasp Vox’s.
He was standing just before her, one hand holding up his own drink and the other squeezing her outstretched hand in a silent show of affection. He had been pacing back and forth all across the room while telling his story. He could never sit still when he got worked up. He’d even mimed his more dramatic moments like shooting lighting into the sky. She’d of said he was exaggerating for dramatic effect if she didn’t see it for herself that night.
Vox looked down at her, his wistful smile becoming more sharp and playful.
“Oh, quite the contrary! She’s got a hell of an arm. Couldn’t be more proud.” He replied, as if he was talking about his own child hitting a home run in a game of baseball rather than pummeling his head with a blunt object.
He leaned forward, coming to eye level with Carmilla on the bed.
“But I am still a little pissed at you for ruining good liquor. You could’ve gotten my attention some other way, y’know?” Vox whispered to her, referring to the rescued bottle from the destroyed bar that had been shot out of his hand.
“What can I say? I needed you worked up and It was the perfect opportunity” she replied, her smile becoming more flirtatious.
They shared a small chuckle between the two of them at the memory. Vox put his drink down on the table beside their bed and finally sat down. Reliving all the trauma from that day had exhausted him. He gave a long sigh and looking up to the ceiling. Just waiting for Carmilla to bring up the obvious elephant in the room. They’d reminisced on that story together for years, but this was the first time he’d told her what happened that day at the bar before she arrived.
The room was quiet for a minute, the only sound occupied by Carmilla slowly swirling her drink absentmindedly. She took one more long sip before placing it on the table just like Vox had earlier. She turned to face him on the bed, grasping his shoulder in a comforting gesture.
“I’m sorry…about what happened between you and Alastor. I knew you two had some kind of falling out, but I didn’t think he could be so cruel to someone he was close to. You deserved better.” Carmilla spoke softly to him, trying to broach the subject with care. It was obvious is still a touchy subject for Vox despite how long ago it occurred.
“No I didn’t.” He looked at her with a sad smile. His arm reached out to remove her hand on his shoulder, but didn’t push her away.
Carmilla looked at him with confusion.
“Looking back…I was just like him. I used people. I manipulated them. Made them think I was their friend just to stab them in the back when they weren’t useful to me. That’s why I wanted Alastor to be my partner. I thought we were so similar. That maybe we’d be good for each other…a-as partners I mean.” He quickly corrected himself, diverting his eyes away from her stare.
Carmilla wanted to disagree, but she honestly couldn’t raise an argument to what he said. In their early relationship as business partners, he was just as he described. Callous, selfish, an opportunist that took advantage of people without hesitation. But she couldn’t just let him retreat into another fit of self loathing.
“Vincent, look at me.” She grabbed the side of his screen to turn his face towards her. His eyes focused on her, but he still had a faraway look on his face
“Maybe that’s something you can take out of this experience. You saw the worst aspects of yourself in Alastor. You saw what someone like that did to other people. And you changed.”
“Pft! Yeah right…I’m no angel.”Vox scoffed at her response and attempted to stand
“And neither am I.” but Carmilla pulled on his arm to bring him back down to the bed, keeping a firm grip on one of his shoulders to prevent him from escaping.
“I’m not sure it’s possible to be a good person in our positions.” She continued. It took a lot to become an overlord. Soul contracts, dirty deals under the table, taking advantage of catastrophes just to increase one’s own power & influence. She definitely wasn’t one to judge, being a weapons dealer in a place where violence was an hourly event.
“But you ARE different. You don’t have to be a saint to see value in people. Not just money or power, but real value and respect. At the very least, to those close to you. The man I met all those years ago didn’t have that in him. He just saw people as an opportunity” Carmilla spoke passionately, pleading with Vox to listen to her words.
Vox stared at her in silence, contemplating her words. She was at least partially right. He was never going to be a “good” person. He was a media mogul in hell. He still took advantage of people and spread trashy news.
But he wasn’t a monster. Or at least not as much as he was when he was with Alastor. He routinely gave his employees a better deal than what he could get away with given his position. He veto’d news scandals that would ruin lives without proper proof. He supported Carmilla’s daughters in their endeavors, despite it bringing little-to-no money to his company.
He could say it was just so he could make his employees content. To keep his news trustworthy. To suck up to his step-daughters(and it was partially true). But the truth is he just did it because… he wanted to. Because despite Alastor’s words echoing in his ear from all those years ago, he knew it was the “right” thing to do.
“Maybe you’re right.” He smiled somberly, taking both her hands into his own gingerly.
“Carmilla, I’m sorry. For putting you through all this. For never wanting to move past that day enough to celebrate together. I just didn’t want that awful memory to come between us. If I wanted to celebrate that day, I wanted it to just be about us. But I guess I kinda fucked that up already, huh?” Is she was frustrated enough to recreate the rope trap that ensnared him on their first meeting just to remind him of that day, she had to have resented him for years over this.
“It’s okay…” she lied. She was still mad at him for not trusting her with this, but it was a step in the right direction.
She leaned forward, giving him a peck on the lips.
“And it’s not too late. Maybe we could celebrate when we became partners instead.” She suggested. They had a public anniversary for when their joint company came to fruition, but it wasn’t when they started working together. And it was usually more of a work event than an intimate day together like she wanted.
Vox chuckled in response, moving one his hands to behind his head as if he was rubbing an injury that wasn’t there.
“That’s easy for you say. For you it was a different day. For me, it all bled together like a bad dream. But…yeah. Yeah! That actually sounds good. Y’know what? Fuck Alast-mph!”
Carmilla rushed forward to capture his lips. Mostly to keep him from saying that name again. As they kissed, she slowly pushed him down to the bed and took a position on top of his hips.
She separated from him, towering over his prone form on the bed and placing her large hands on either side of his head.
“That’s enough talking about the Radio Demon. Say his name again, and I’ll…why was it you said to me all those years ago? ‘Rip you limb from limb’?” Carmilla teased. She leaned back to settle on his hips, her large arms reached behind her head to undo the intricate bindings keeping her hair in its horn shape. It flowed down to cover her back, and even spread out more to cover Vox’s legs behind her.
Vox bit his lip in anticipation and gripped her hips with his claws.
“Heh, Don’t tempt me. I love a woman that can straight up kill me…” he leaned upwards to kiss her.
In their tight embrace, haphazardly removing pieces of clothing as they got more comfortable atop the bed, Vox flashed back to the start of their sordid relationship.
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