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arahusk · 3 months ago

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Teamwork Makes the Dream Work

Characters/Pairing: Alastor/Husk, Niffty, Vox, Valentino, Velvette

Word count: 5378

Ao3 link: [here]

The spats between Overlords in Pentagram city could be called the very definition of petty.

It’s one of those things from his prime that Husk can say he didn’t really miss at all. Just one unintended slight, or a little extension of one’s territory into another, a sale of a faulty product or even just a small rejection, could start a whole gang war. Other sinners, or even other hellborn, would get caught in the middle of it. Such spats left things in ruins, or destroyed afterlives, making it a nightmare to rebuild again.

The V Tower is effectively wrecked, but the Vees themselves are still standing, still high and mighty, as they loom above the wreckage over Husk, an overeager Niffty, and his bitch of a boss.

Whatever set either of these fuckers off this time, Husk had no damn clue, but the ache in his shoulder told him that he’d be paying the price for it either way.

“You really thought it would be like last time?!” Vox shouts from above a pile of disfigured television sets, red spittle dripping down his screen. His face is cracked, but not enough to mess with the hypnosis that was moving demons from underneath the rubble, weapons of all kinds in their hands. “You’re stuck in the past while I’ve been innovating! Because that’s what technology does, you red piece of shit!”

“You know, you’re yelling right in my ear,” Velvette grouses, just a few strands of her dyed hair out of place.

Smartphone in hand, she barely glances at it when she swipes a thumb down. It seems to send a signal, one that opens up a hidden door and more sinner monstrosities in broken high heels and tattered dresses turn up with murder in their eyes, drugged out of their minds.

Valentino isn’t doing much except looking mighty pissed at his coat being ripped at the back. He cocks the trigger of a bedazzled gun, grinning fiercely. “He’s just having fun, Vel, honey. Though he fucking owes me a whole new wardrobe after this.”

Husk in particular hates that guy. For a lot of things, but right now for the bullet he left in his damn shoulder.

“What next, Sir!? Can I try to get that bad boy again?” Niffty is, of course, living this up, and at least her rabid speech makes Valentino look a bit unsure.

Husk waits for the next order. There would be no point in refusing, and he and Niffty would just have to continue this stupid war until enough of them keel over.

Except, even with the onslaught already coming for them, still climbing over ruined wires and broken letter V’s, Alastor still doesn’t say anything. Husk risks a glance, finding the Radio Demon standing still, hands over his mic, looking straight ahead at nothing.

His coat’s even more frayed than usual, and the fight had left his hair a bit messy, but he’s the least worse off. Even Niffty had a scratch over her cheek, and blood running down her fingers…from accidentally stabbing herself with her own needles.

The demons are still heading their way towards them, and it makes Husk a bit nervous. “Er, boss? We doing something?” No way he just summoned them here just to have one stupid last stand.

At that, Alastor picks up his head slightly. He looks over at Husk on his right side, then at Niffty on his left, who is still bursting with energy at the seams. After a moment, he looks forward again. “Right. Looks like we’ll need a bit of an intermission!”

With that, he makes a sweeping gesture with his arm, keeping his other hand on his cane. The shadows that spring out from the ground range from tiny, impish beings to gigantic ogres, all with stitches connecting their limbs and smiles carved into their doll-like faces. Another gesture with his fingers, and they propel forward with the help of dark tendrils, clashing against the demons so that it becomes just another chaotic brawl.

And more tendrils shoot up, closer to Alastor’s feet, so that they converge on each other, surrounding the three until they are all encased in a slightly transparent dark shield.

“Oh, this old trick again?! You’re so boring!” Vox clenches his fists, directing his hypnotic gaze at them. “Get out here and fight! You cowardly fuckass–!”

Another gesture, and the shield becomes solid black. Soon there’s no more sound from outside, and the only light that exists comes from the strange red glow of Alastor’s cane.

“Finally, I can think for a bit,” Alastor mutters.

Husk looks around in confusion, while Niffty ooo’s and aaa’s at her boss’s powers. She pokes at the shield with her bleeding fingers. “Hehe, it’s sproingy!”

“So are we just twiddling our thumbs until the Vees tear this shield down?” Husk asks a bit more bitterly than he intends. The wound on him is really stinging now. “If we’re not fighting, then at least get us the fuck outta here.”

“We are not doing that,” Alastor says, cracking his neck sharply to glare at Husk. “I haven’t won.”

Husk blinks. Then, slowly, he grits his teeth. “Oh fuck off.”

“I can win for you, Sir! Just let me at’em!” Niffty raises up her hand, waving erratically. “I almost got that bug boy too!”

“Niffty, dear, you’re swell. But I still need to think—”

“What, we’re just gonna stand around while you mull it over? I’m fucking tired and I just wanna go back home and drink.”

“You can drink yourself to death anytime, Husker. Now let me just—”

“Ohhh, sure. You’re right, I’d rather die from getting mauled to death by some brainwashed cultists outside!”

“Maul! Maul! I wanna do some mauling! Can you let me, Sir? Please?!”

“If I wasn’t bound to you, I’d be hauling ass and letting you deal with this shit yourself!”

Suddenly, pressure.

The chains appear out of the air, latching onto both Husk and Niffty’s necks. Husk stiffens, while Niffty is bouncing up and down on her toes. But both effectively quiet down, all while Alastor looms above them with a tight grin on his face, a hand gripping both chains, making them rattle. The static feedback sounds even louder within the small, dark space.

“I said, let me think.”

Husk should have stayed quiet, and he almost does, but both the anger and blood loss is probably getting to him. “Finally caught yourself between a rock and a hard place, huh?” If only because of the man’s pride and nothing else.

Alastor doesn’t respond. The feedback keens just a bit higher, but only for a moment before he turns around, slamming the end of his cane into the ground.

Niffty is still waiting eagerly, but she leans over to Husk, whispering loudly, “He’s gonna have a really fun idea!”

Husk scoffs. “If you say so, little lady.” He doubts hard. At the most, Alastor is probably planning for them all to go on a suicide mission and hopefully get Vox along the way. His defeat from Adam must still be a big sore spot for him.

The sound finally builds from outside like a rolling wave, which means the deadly mob is probably getting closer. And still, Alastor stands around like a fucking moron, tapping his fingers against the mic. The hell did he expect would happen from this?

Both bored and aching, Husk groans. “You fought Vox by himself last time. Don’t know why you thought fighting all three would be any easier.”

Then, he feels the chain tighten. But not to throw him to the ground like he half-expects, but from Alastor turning around. “What was that?”

His boss is being really damn obtuse for some reason. “I mean, it’s three against one. Not like me and Niffty even count really, at least not anymore.”

Alastor stares, then tilts his head a bit. “Is that so?”

Husk gestures to the chains he and Niffty were leashed to. “Binding contract, remember? Your memory getting spotty now?”

“I love being tied up though!” Niffty cackles, her bright eye shining with adoration. “Best deal I ever made!”

“Speak for yourself,” Husk grumbles.

In his heyday, maybe Husk could be more of a threat. Heck, from what he heard of Niffty, she’d also been a force to be reckoned with. But not many really remembered the power of the Needlewoman and her love of pointy things.

Alastor pauses again. He’s considering something, though Husk can’t really guess as to what. A new strategy to get at Vox? Maybe cataloging through his arsenal of abominations to unleash a counterattack. Or maybe just thinking up a way to get Husk to shut up.

Then, Alastor shrugs. “Well, I see no other way then.” He brings his hand up, the chains laying slack in his palm, and snaps his fingers.

Husk feels it right away. The weight lifting off his neck. He widens his eyes and looks down, just in time to see the fragments of metal and chain links fall away into nothingness.

He’s free.

“You and Niffty have been released from your contracts. You may thank me later!”

Niffty also looks down at herself, then at the ground, then at the air again as she tries to piece together the links that had once housed her soul. “Oh no! Does Sir not like me anymore?!”

Husk stares, and stares. He then lifts his eyes to face Alastor. “Excuse me, but, what?”

Alastor just grins. “You now have your full power at your disposal again.” A small twirl of his cane as he faces them fully, unmindful to the ruckus outside. “Though perhaps not as much as when you owned souls.”

Husk still has no idea what to make of this. It’s almost like the door of his cage has been flung open wide, and he’s not sure if he should head for it. And as he feels Niffty grip his arm, also shivering at her newfound freedom, she seems to be feeling the same way.

And then, Alastor grins wider. He reaches out his hand. “Which is why I propose we all make a new deal instead.”

Of course there’s a fucking catch.

“You think I’m that much of a sucker?” Husk blurts out. He points a claw at Alastor. “This is some kind of trick. No way you’d let us go that easy.”

“Don’t throw me away, Sir! I can be better!”

Alastor remains motionless, hand still outstretched. The sounds outside are growing louder.

“Instead of working for me, how about we all become business partners? Is that enticing enough?” He quirks up an eyebrow. “All those souls you once owned will now be back at your disposal.”

Husk now really wonders if he’s not just been knocked out and having one hell of a coma dream. Alastor, the Overlord who sees everyone as beneath him. Alastor, the Radio Demon who would rather go to war than take the offer of joining the Vees’ team. Alastor, the narcissistic prick who would probably gnaw his own arm off then ever seeing anyone else as his equal.

But then, Husk pieces it all together.

“You know you can’t win by yourself,” he says. “Not unless we’re all at the top of our game.”

Alastor’s right eye twitches a bit. His frazzled hair makes it look all the more menacing.

“Motherfucker. You’re that desperate.”

“I believe I already told you,” Alastor says quietly. “I won’t be humiliated.”

But Niffty, who has now climbed to the top of Husk’s left wing, gasps with happiness. “That means we’re all going to get married!”

A record scratch echoes around them, one that makes Alastor’s fingers move back and forth. Then, “Whatever works, dear!”

“For the love of—” Husk glares, and he does a small, experimental search through his soul. It’s faint, but he does find something. It’s been locked away by door and key, one that he could only scratch at but never get through. The pit of his soul where a sinner’s power grows, but how it can grow even more with another couple of souls at his fingertips.

From Alastor’s palm, a green flame erupts. It has shifting faces in it, merging from all the souls he still held onto.

Husk can’t help but look into the fire. It’s enticing. It’s addictive. And the fact that this would be an even playing field this time…

He once thought he didn’t miss being an Overlord, but suddenly, he feels so hungry.

“What makes you think we’d accept—”

“I want to be a beautiful bride!” Niffty cries into his ear.

“Ugh, fine. What makes you think I’d accept this? I could just walk off right now. I can break through your dumbass shield and never see your ugly mug again.”

He probably didn’t even need his old powers to do so. He could see the shadows begin to fade, how the spiderweb cracks spread behind Alastor. His boss—no, his ex-boss was running out of time.

Still, the only thing Alastor did was reach out further. A finger pressed underneath Husk’s chin, bringing up his gaze.

“Because I know you.”

Husk swallows. Even without the damn chain, he feels immobile.

“You’ve always been a greedy kitty. It’s why it was just so easy I could even get your soul in the first place!” Alastor laughs a little, as if reliving an old memory. “And I know how much you also like to win.”

The thrill of winning can be so intoxicating.

Husk watches as the shield cracks even further, until a part of it ruptures, giving them a view of the outside. He sees the ruins of the V Tower again, and some of the shadows getting decimated by brainwashed sinners. He hears gunshots, and knows Valentino is probably having the time of his afterlife, which frankly irks him.

Niffty is salivating as she sees the carnage, and he feels a particular heat from her. Her pupil dilates, and her sharp teeth elongate. Her limbs, already thin as twigs, seem to get even thinner, like the sharp points of rusty needles.

The Overlord of all things sharp and stabby. Rumors say she typically cut apart most of her acquired souls out of habit, which probably made it all the more easy for Alastor to win her over.

Alastor ignores the commotion, even that of Vox’s unhinged ranting that they could hear once more (“Oh, finally showed up again?! Well, here’s another fucking thing! Your bob haircut is tacky!! I’m gonna shave off all that shit!”), and just keeps his gaze on Husk and Niffty.

Though, Alastor has already won Niffty over long ago. So it’s really just Husk.

His finger slowly slips from out of Husk’s chin, momentarily breaking a spell. His hand is now held open again, palm facing upwards.

“Now, how about it, dear? This time, you don’t have anything to lose.”

Husk’s wings rustle. Then they stretch—and then they grow bigger. The Lucky Gambler, once a big name back downtown, could push out a bunch of low-rollers from his casino with a beat of his wings alone. And that didn’t include the natural luck on his side, dodging a fatal blow and rolling snake eyes right between a demon’s own eyes, so that all that was left of them was brain matter and an empty wallet.

Niffty is breathing harder. He can also hear her rapid heartbeat, which is going so fast it’s like a hum.

“Equal partnership, between all three of us,” Husk states. An explosive whizzes right past them, blowing up another section of drywall from the tower. They all ignore it. “That means neither of us can order around the other. Unless one of us is into that.”

Niffty is practically frothing at the mouth, her spittle getting on Husk’s fur.

“We get access to all the souls, not just those we used to own.” Husk raises a thick eyebrow at Alastor. “If you want us to be business partners, then we’re gonna share the wealth.”

And he expects Alastor to refuse. The man barely wants to share his own alcohol case back home with anyone besides maybe Rosie. No way he would agree to share his entire stash of souls. He’d probably eat them all first.

But Alastor doesn’t do that. He looks at Husk with a certain glee he can’t even name.

“And no loopholes, or hidden clauses, none of that shit,” Husk goes on. “If you want our help with this fight, you’re gonna learn to be a team player. Okay, partner?”

Oh, how he knows Alastor hates being on a team that’s not just him and him alone, more than anything else.

But the Radio Demon is such a proud abomination, so he keeps his hand out and smiles tightly. There’s also something else in his eyes, something beyond the bloodlust and the power hungry gaze. It’s so intense.

It’s excitement.

These are uncharted waters for Alastor. He has no idea how this will end, but it’s probably one of the most entertaining things he’s ever experienced.

“Fair enough,” Alastor complies. The flame in his hand grows brighter. “So, is it a deal?”

Niffty is about to launch herself right into Alastor’s palm before Husk grips her tiny—but shifting—body in his hand to steady her. Then, he gives a nod to Alastor. He holds out his own hand.

“Deal.” He glances back at Niffty. “You still in?”

She nods rapidly. “Deal! Deal! Let’s kill some bad boys!”

Husk clasps Alastor’s hand, and Niffty slams her tiny one on top of both of theirs. It’s almost akin to some weird friendship handshake.

Light flickers around them, sealing it. Another explosion goes off, this time right at Alastor’s back. It singes just a bit of his hair.

His grin widens, and his eyes become dials, turned all the way to the right. The feedback blares.

“Shall we?”

—

Niffty, in her Overlord prime, is a terrifying, beautiful thing.

Her smile is enough to rival Alastor’s, which says a lot. She’s more spindly, more quick, and her love of pointy things has deadly consequences for nearly everyone else around her. Husk wonders if she ever heard the phrase to not run with scissors, or if she did and just decided to take up on the challenge to its extreme.

She has gigantic as fuck scissors that could cut a demon clean in half, spraying blood all over the place. She gives a laugh before she runs over to her next victim on needle-thin limbs, sometimes running on all fours which makes her even more uncanny, like a spider that had been constructed out of wires. She’s a slasher flick brought to gory life, and she’d probably cut apart friend along with foe if he didn’t pointedly get out of her way.

Maybe it’s the sudden surge of power that makes her crazy, because Husk also finds himself going insane over it. Even so, it’s a red-tinged blur of adrenaline and luck on his side before it’s finally all over.

What he can gather out of the fight between Niffty and Velvette was brutal, but somehow, it’s the aftermath itself that’s even more unnecessarily violent.

“Stop that!! You’re messing it all up!” Velvette shouts through a mouthful of blood.

Niffty uses her scissors to cut apart Velvette limb from limb. Though there’s blood and guts, Velvette’s body is absolutely abnormal. There are ball joints that connect her elbows to her arms, and her knees to her legs. Except Niffty was just sawing through what seemed like plastic that still housed blood inside.

“I used to always love playing with dolls,” Niffty whispers as she takes out one of her needles. “I loved pulling them apart then putting them back together again. Wanna see how?”

“Nooo!”

Husk makes sure to turn away while Velvette continues to scream and Niffty continues to laugh. At least she’s having fun.

Sitting against a piece of rubble, where he narrowly avoids the electricity of live wires that hung from nearby, he draws a pull on his cigar. He keeps a few of the things in his pockets when drinking isn’t doing much for him after all. Then, he puffs out the smoke at the downed face next to him.

“Shame you can’t shoot for shit,” he says. His wings stay large, casting shadows over the cracked tiles and bodies of sinners that would probably regenerate in the next month, give or take. “Those glasses really just for decoration?”

Valentino is snarling through what’s left of his teeth, then coughs up a glob of blood. Both his antennas have been ripped off (for Niffty’s collection) and his stupid expensive sunglasses have been shattered. Some of the shards have embedded into his face, making the Pimp Overlord wince. His own wings are spread out, pinned at the edges by playing cards that are wicked sharp. They’ve already been half-sliced, along with the guy’s double-set of arms, which were laying around who knows where.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, gatito.” Valentino coughs again, raising up his face to give Husk the most obnoxious sneer. “Voy a matar al cabrón hijo de su puta madraaaaaaggh!”

Valentino’s screaming, along with sizzling skin, could be heard across the ruins.

“Cállate la boca, pendejo.” Husk twists the end of his cigar further into Valentino’s eye. Further, and further, until it’s effectively ruined. Now he definitely can’t see for shit.

And further out there, he can see his boss’s hulking back—most likely relishing his victory.

Valentino eventually did quiet down and went still, which Husk took as the opportunity to stretch his legs and flick away the cigar. It arcs in the air to land right onto Valentino’s back, giving another dark patch to his already burned-up coat.

Husk walks. His ears flick. Then he quickly shifts to the side to avoid a bullet that narrowly misses his head.

“Damn, guess having one eye was the best thing to happen to your aim.” With a turn, Husk grins at the bug who trembles while he holds his last bedazzled gun in his already mangled hand. He knows how his own eyes shine like gold coins, as dazzling as casino lights. “Hope you can shoot these away, for your sake.”

But Husk always has a good throwing hand when it comes to his dice, and the newly revived Overlord’s luck is still going strong as it explodes right at Valentino’s befuddled face.

Now, he can finally shift his attention to Alastor who’s busy playing with his food.

Vox huddles before the looming dark tower that is the Radio Demon. His face could also barely be even called a face anymore, the cracks so numerous, corrupting the video feed of his eyes and his mouth. It just fragments into chaos, the visual quality flickering, then fading, before flickering again, as if there had been a sudden power surge.

The TV set that was everything about him and more, looks ready to fall right off his shoulders and clatter to the ground.

“You… I hate you…” Vox grips a hand against the side of his screen, and tries to push it back in place. There are numerous other monitors hanging from a partly collapsed wall behind him, but more than half of them are dark, and the rest are flickering or giving their jarring blue screens of death.

Alastor, further craning down his neck, says nothing. But even Husk could see from here that his grin is absolutely euphoric. It covers nearly the entirety of his face, with his eyes bright red and highlighting Vox in all of his pathetic defeat.

Between his giant, curved fingers is his mic cane, looking as tiny as a toothpick in comparison. He holds it near Vox’s head.

“Speak into the mic, old friend.”

Vox trembles, then he lets loose with a tirade—or as much as he could. His own feed is too corrupted to get anything out right anymore, buffering at an embarrassingly slow rate. “I-I-I-I fu-fuc-fucking-g-g-g HATE y-y-you!! I-I-I-I’ll r-r-r-ip yo-o-o-ou a-a-p-p-art!! A-A-A-l-l-as-s-s-s-tor!!”

A pillar of shadow juts from the ground beneath, impaling him straight into his chest. Vox then just hangs there, his blocky head tilted to the right, his screen an array of colors before it also goes as dead as the rest of his empire.

Alastor opens his mouth, his rows of teeth as big as slot machines. Husk can only imagine that his mouth is just a dark abyss, with nothing inside, because the Radio Demon is always hungry, all the time. Husk braces himself for the inevitable crunch, the final curtain for this TV mogul Overlord.

It’s all still for a moment, Vox hanging over his ultimate death, before the shadow that he’s impaled on suddenly throws him to the side. A small crash of glass and metal, followed by a spark of electricity, before going quiet again.

When Husk blinks, Alastor is back to normal, fixing up his bowtie and tucking his cane under his right arm. “He would just taste terrible.” Then he turns on his heel, facing Husk with a curious gaze. “Husker! Looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight!”

“You talking about my wings, asshole?” Husk shakes his head, before he also goes back to normal, a few loose feathers rustling loose to float in the air. He puts his power back into the pit of his soul, and his eyes burn less, no longer seeking out lady luck and her guiding hand.

He takes a quick look around the ruined V Tower, with piles of corpses and machines littering the ground. Husk spreads his hands wide. “There. You won. Happy now?”

Alastor’s eyes are alight with jovial red. An upbeat jazz number plays from his mic cane, one that was more on the swing side than usual. “Incredibly!” he answers.

Niffty turns up just then, her head rising from the rubble and breaking apart the cement cleanly. She’s only the long, spindly creature that had cut up bodies for a moment, before she finally reverts back to her tiny self—though still covered in an immense amount of blood.

“That was amazing!! Let’s do it again!” Niffty pops up further, freeing her legs before she runs up to Alastor and grabs at his coat. “Can we? Can we? I want to keep fighting in gang wars like I used to!”

…Husk then recalls an old story about the bloodbath massacre in downtown around the 60’s, before his time, much of it perpetuated by an Overlord that was said to be manic and off her rocker. Had that been her?

Alastor pets her head fondly, like she’s his loyal maid once more. Husk doesn’t expect much to happen. His ex-boss, now partner, got his victory and probably wanted to savor it without them haggling him. Lone wolf and all that.

But then, Alastor faces Husk, still with that happy grin on his face to go along with the happy tune. “You know, that did go rather swimmingly! Perhaps this truly was the best route after all.”

Husk raises an eyebrow. “I would hope so since you’re the one that came up with the arrangement in the first place.”

“Yes, yes, but I was going to double-cross you once this was through.” Alastor nods like that’s a normal thing to say. “You both are truly professionals! I didn’t even notice the other two all the while I was dealing with Vox.”

“Back up a sec, you were going to what now? You promised no loopholes-!”

But Niffty quickly overtakes the conversation, keening happily as she once again lifts up her giant scissor. There’s a bit of familiar red hair on its sharp edges, along with dried up blood. “Now that we’re all married, we can go paint the town red!”

Alastor nods again. “Right as rain as you always are, dear Niffty. Except for the marriage aspect, but whatever makes you happy!”

“Hey, partner,” Husk nags a bit, catching Alastor’s attention. “So you’re saying you want to stick with this? I’ll forgive the whole double-crossing shit if you keep giving us the fair share.”

At that, Alastor lowers his eyelids, but doesn’t do so as a threat. It’s almost like he’s so pleased with what Husk is saying, with how he looks. “Share the wealth, of course.”

Then the Radio Demon looks around at the rubble, which is when another V logo falls off the wall to crash into a million pieces. And then is promptly set on fire, for no discernable reason.

“But first, we should make our base of operations, as by the bouts of combat, we have won this very valuable territory!” Alastor taps a claw against his chin. “Now, if only we had a name…”

“We really need one?” Husk asks.

“The Vees did!”

“Yeah, and the Vees are also dead as fuck.”

“Silly boys!” Niffty wags her finger at them, now slinging her giant scissor across her shoulder like it was a loaded shotgun. “Everyone knows when you’re married that you go by the last name! Mr. and Mr. and Mrs. Radio Demon!”

“That’s a mouthful,” Husk tells her. “Also no.”

“Ah! I got it!” Alastor snaps his fingers to telegraph his obvious eureka moment. “We should call ourselves the A’s!”

“...No? That literally makes no sense with our names.”

“Well, if we get the right papers for the official name changes—”

“What name would I even get?! Husk is just fine, dammit!”

“Touchy, aren’t we?” Alastor leans suddenly very close to Husk, patting his shoulder. “Then how about the Aces?” He pokes at him. “Because of your card tricks?”

Husk considers, very briefly. He then gestures a so-so motion with his hand. “Eh. What does that even have to do with Niffty?”

“Well, I’m just spouting out ideas. Not like you’re helping!”

“Okay, fine. How about the Wild Cards? Got a nice ring to it.”

“Now, now, Husker. This isn’t all about you!”

“Oh, and the A’s name wasn’t just all for your ego!”

But the smile that’s on Alastor’s face is almost genuine, almost thrilled at Husk’s clapback. Of course he’d be happy after a murdering spree of dozens of souls, including that of one of his rival Overlords that could never shut up. Alastor then pulls in both Husk and Niffty into a hug, one that’s a bit tight around Husk’s ribs. He seems to particularly rub his cheek against Husk’s, enjoying the feel of the fur. Asshole.

“My dear partners! As long as you never disappoint me, we’ll be going straight to the top!” Silence, then static laces his voice just slightly, distorting the soft jazz that had been playing. “Right? You won’t disappoint me?”

Niffty nods while Husk rolls his eyes. “Then don’t disappoint us, either. If not, we’re voting you out.”

“I’ll always vote for Sir!” Niffty instantly proclaims.

“Niff, can you work with me a little here?”

Alastor chuckles, still holding them in his group hug, despite the fires starting everywhere and the smoke filling the air. “I see big things coming our way for sure!”

Husk glances around again. “If you mean the fire that’s starting on the south exit and heading our way, then yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Indeed! This place ought to be condemned!” With that, Alastor laughed, unhinged, neck cricking and cracking. “Haha! Hahahaha!”

“Burning alive with my husbands is the best thing a girl can ask for!”

“Seriously, can we go?”

By the time they do eventually leave, the newly teamed up Overlords still hadn’t decided on a name for themselves. What else would we even call ourselves that Alastor would want? Husk thinks once they’re back outside on the streets, watching the tower burn itself out so they can ‘redecorate,’ as Alastor calls it. The Radio Gang? Radio Trio? That’s stupid. But it’s gonna be something that makes him the head honcho for sure.

Yet, as Husk watches the smoke curl up into the red-tinged sky, hearing Niffty still laughing and Alastor hum along to his tune, he can’t say he hates it.

Maybe like his new grinning partner, he’s just as oddly excited about the future.

#hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #niffty #radiohusk #the vees #radio trio #vox #velvette #valentino #fanfiction #my fics #might post this to ao3 later #i just wanted the radio trio to be cool overlords ok #edit: posted to ao3 now! comments and kudos are wonderful hint hint

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