More than Redemption- Alastor x Vox, RadioStatic/RadioSilence

𝓕𝓾𝓬𝓴, 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴, 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴

A/N this is after S1, some chapters are abt their past. anyways, enjoy yall

Vox was so pumped to see Alastor get fucked. He had popcorn and all that shit. But that one excuse of a 'powerful' coward escaped.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Apparently, according to the news, Adam had died. Alastor should've died right with him, but here he was, probably sitting on his ass in his radio tower shithole. It wasn't fair.

Vox sighed loudly, looking at the screens framing him. He dragged his gaze from one screen to another tardily, his eyes meandering over every single inch. Nothing interesting happened. Since the battle, he couldn't risk sending his drones to the hotel in case of any angels. That was his delusional mind, however.

Abruptly, on a screen, a picture of Valentino shuffled on. 

"The fuck!" Valentino's yell almost ripped Vox's eardrums off. Vox raised his eyebrows. Valentino was drowning in pink smoke and drool soaked his chin. "That worthless slut is getting attention, and I didn't even help him with it! How the fuck? Without me-"

Vox raised his eyebrows even higher, clearly unfazed. "Angel dust?"

"That attention seeking whore!" Valentino roared lividly, raucously stomping around the room. Vox honestly felt bad for the floor.

Vox shrugged. "What did he do this time?"

Valentino thrust his face towards the screen and screamed, "you are coming here, now, Vox. Now!"

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Yeah, yeah, ok," Vox rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck me."

____________________________________

After the battle, more people came to the hotel to see what it was like. As far as Alastor was concerned, if redemption was a thing, no way they could be redeemed. All of them were either bloodthirsty, horny or sadistic. Of course, there was the whole package deal demons too, with all three traits. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Alastor stood at the hotel door with a vast smile sketched onto his face as always. Some of these pieces of shits made him want to frown, however. A file of demons were sprawled out ahead of him and chatter grazed the raw air. Alastor saw hundreds of horns and hundreds of hues.

His eyes lagged onto the next customer. It was a demon with their face veiled by a black mask; despite this, Alastor could tell his head shape was rectangular. He wore a black suit.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Mask," Alastor welcomed him, shaking his hand, "quite a pleasure, really!"

"Me too," he murmured.

Alastor put a hand to his ear. "Oh, sorry, what was that? I couldn't really hear you under that dreadful mask. Could you take it off?"

"Uhm," he shook his head. "It's part of my form."

Alastor laughed mockingly. "Ah, yes! Your form!" Alastor tugged at the antenna poorly hidden under the mask.

"Can I go in?" he grumbled impatiently.

"I'm afraid I'll have to go in with you, sir," Alastor announced.

The demon shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his pathetic little bow and shuffling his feet. The sinners lined up behind him yelled at the demon to move faster and complaints scratched Alastor's ears. 

"Move, you little prick!"

"What's taking you so long?"

Anxiety was voracious and it feasted rapaciously on the mask demon, slaughtering all his confidence. The mask demon fidgeted with his bow.