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Husk hadn’t been drafted.
He’d been old enough for it, or well, young enough for it might have been more accurate at that point. But Husk had seen the writing on the wall and he knew what happened to drafted men in the army; his pops had been in the first World War.
Husk had signed on as an officer and the Army had been very appreciative of his sharp shooting ability. They’d been even more appreciative of his ability to take young, impressionable men and point them in the right direction.
There were reasons that Husk was in Hell, he’d accepted that a long time ago and not all of them were due to the gambling and the alcohol he downed like it was water. He’d killed, not righteous kills either, nothing clean, shit that would have been deeply illegal if the Geneva Convention had even been a spark in someone's mind before it had all been over.
Husk had done what he’d had to do or that was how he’d seen it at least, it had been almost a century since he’d done that shit. Time tended to give you a lot of perspective, not that he was a good person now but fuck there was nothing worst than a man who thought he waws doing the right thing, especially if he had soldiers at his command.
Husk knew there was a reason he was in Hell, had accepted that pretty much the moment he’d got down here. Valentino on the other hand, that fucker was down here for worse reasons than Huck had managed.
He’d suspected some of it, saw the aftermath almost every day now that Angel Dust was a regular at his bar. Husk had been able to ignore it, it wasn’t his business, he hadn’t thought it was his business, right up until Angel had mentioned the Contract.
The Soul Contract that Valentino held over Angel Dust’s head like a whip ready to come down. The Soul Contract with no protection clause. The Soul Contract that read more like a bill of sale with no payment, upfront or in royalties.
The Soul Contract with no out clause.
Even Husk had an out clause and Alastor was one of the worst fucking people to negotiate a deal against. Husk hated the fucker but if Alastor decided to kill him without cause the Radio Demon would take a deep cut to his power and if Husker wanted out all he needed to do was give up the rest of his own power.
That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, oh the power would come back, it was his, not the collective shit you got from owning souls, but it would take decades and with the run of luck he was currently on he’d get caught up in the next extermination.
Which was why Husk was currently cleaning his guns and letting his power settle back over his shoulders like it hadn’t in over a decade. They were all Carmine arms, he’d never sold a single one, despite his gambling habit, it was one of the very few checks he’d put on himself while he’d been an Overlord, not that it had saved him.
“Husker, my fine feathered fellow,” a familiar, hated voice chirped from behind him. “May I inquire as to why you called up your contract? Should I prepare for another doomed attempt on my life? I could use a couple of feathers for my newest formal wear.”
Husk snorted and didn’t bother looking over his shoulder. “Shut up, you radio prick. You’re wearing a tailored suit, you always wear a tailored suit.”
“Indeed,” Alastor chirped, the chatter of radio static loud in the silence of Husk’s room. “But I’m not dressed for an audience with royalty and you know daddy dearest will be coming by to check on his precious spawn soon, especially after her meeting with Heaven’s Golden BOY .”
Husk’s fur stood on end, feathers fluffing up as Alastor’s voice shrieked, but his hands didn’t pause on his favorite rifle. Yeah, Husk knew about Alastor’s beef with Adam, anyone with half a brain could figure it out given his… friendship with Lillith and his general attitude towards those who preyed on the weak for fun.
Alastor thought fear was funny when he was the one causing it but he had morals. Granted they were sometimes backwards and ridiculous morals but he did have them, Husk had figured that out right off.
“May I inquire as to why you have pulled out the angel weaponry if not to take another shot at voiding your contract?” Alastor asked.
And that was the other out clause, the one all contracts were built on, a bit overly romantic if you asked Husk, where there really shouldn’t have been any romance at all. Till death do you part was the standard wedding vow and if you killed your contractor you were free as a bird.
“Have you ever seen Legs’s contract?” Husk asked.
Alastor’s head came into view, craning over Husk before turning one hundred and eighty degrees on his neck in a way that shouldn’t have been possible even for a demon. “Angel Dust is under a Soul Contract.”
That wasn’t a question even though it was very clear that Alastor hadn’t known that fact.
“Yeah, it belongs to Valentino, obviously,” Husk said, staring into the Radio Demon’s dial eyes. “There’s no out clause.”
He was braced for it but the next shriek of radio static nearly drove him over into a protective ball of fur and feathers.
“Isn’t that interesting,” Alastor said.
“I can’t go to Lucifer with it, I know you can’t go to Lucifer with it, and you can’t kill him,” Husk hurried to say.
“Oh, Husker, old pal, I believe you’ll find that I can,” Alastor cooed, only the barest hint of static enough to indicate how much danger was currently in the room.
“If you kill him his contract goes to Vox.” Husk turned around even though he knew better.
Yeah, there that terrifying battle form was, impossibly large in Husk’s room, antlers scratching the ceiling and claws tapping gently against the walls. It was still horrifying in a mind bending way, despite how many times Husk had seen it, how many times he’d fought it.
“I checked my contract to make sure I don’t qualify as an Overlord anymore,” Husk said. “I don’t, not with the fact that I’m under a soul contract with you. And if we go through the proper channels with this Angel will be dead before it even gets to the Sins, let alone his majesty. No evidence, no trial, so he needs to die before he knows we know.”
It took a moment, and a swirling wave of eldritch horror that made Husk’s brain take a brief vacation to somewhere dark and small where it could hide from whatever the fuck was happening in the real world, before Alastor was right back to his normal creepy self. His smile was slightly more strained than usual but other than that none of his power was leaking out.
“And as a soul under someone else's contract you don’t qualify to take up the role even if you wanted to, splendid,” Alastor chirped.
Husk groaned and turned back to his guns, resisting the urge to try and strangle the man. That had been part of the deal, giving up his status of Overlord to keep his power, throwing everything else away just to stay alive.
But yeah his status did mean he wouldn’t receive Valentino’s contracts upon the moth demon’s death. Which in turn meant that either one of his contracted souls would receive his Overlord status or all of them would be free for the first time in decades, if there wasn’t a soul strong enough to hold them all.
The more important bit was the fact that the other Vs wouldn’t get those contracts. They’d cornered their respective markets and were a united front against all aggressors but take out one and the others would scramble to get control of their colleges networks.
Which was what Alastor cared about in the end.
“Thought that would make you happy,” Husk grumbled.
*****
“Hey, Legs, I’m walking you to work,” Husk called out as Angel Dust took his first step out of the hotel.
The spider demon blinked and turned to stare at him for a long moment. “What do you mean, Whiskers? I’ve always walked myself to work just fine.”
“Yeah, and I need to do a run down to the red light district to talk to a supplier, they’re shorting us.” It was the truth, though Husk had been putting it off for a while now. “I can walk you back here if you want, I was gonna play a few rounds of poker while I was down there too.”
Angel Dust smiled at him. “Sure thing, Sugar.”
*****
Valentino was waiting for them outside of the club when Angel Dust and Husk turned down the street, not that Husk was expecting anything less. He knew that Vox had his eyes on all of Alastor’s known associates and contracts and Husk had his power sitting behind his shoulder blades for the first time in a long time.
He’d always been the kind of Overlord that preferred to be underestimated, it made tricking schmucks into dealing in souls easier back at the casino. People saw the height and the wings and the obvious weapons at his disposal and didn’t bother to look underneath that.
And Vox would have immediately told Valentino about Husk’s presence because the TV demon wasn’t an idiot.
Valentino was the kind of demon, the kind of abuser who absolutely hated it when his favorite punching bags found people to support them, other than himself of course. It made them harder to control, especially when you had so many to focus on, especially when they made the kind of money that Angel Dust did.
Husk kept walking and talking like nothing was wrong, winding down a story about one of the more interesting souls he’d met over the poker table. Angel Dust didn’t seem to notice his boss until they were right in front of the fucker.
“Who’s this? Thought I told you doing jobs off the clock wasn’t allowed,” Valentino snapped.
Angel Dust flinched back and shrunk in on himself.
Husk snorted. “We live in the same building, you prick, I’ve got business with a supplier a block over, thought I’d walk him down so he wouldn’t be late after getting accosted. He came back home a bit roughed up last week.”
That got the moth’s back up and Husk reached into his pocket to pull out a pack of smokes and his lighter. The first puff wasn’t great, they were the cheap kind without the additional Hell additives, just straight tobacco, which wasn’t exactly his preference.
Valentino growled and took a step forward to tower over Husk, who just turned to offer the pack of smokes to Angel Dusk. The spider demon swallowed, looking genuinely scared and shook his head.
“Your loss.” Husk shrugged and tucked the pack away, keeping the hand in his pocket as he smoked the cheap cigarette with the other.
“I know who you are,” Valentino growled. “I don’t appreciate other Overlords sniffing around the merchandise.”
Husk snorted smoke out his nose. “You think Alastor is interested in your bit? Buddy, you have not been paying attention if you think he’s interested in any of what Legs has to offer.”
Valentino leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose. “Not the Overlord I was talking about. Vox may have forgotten what you were, Husker, but I’ve got a long memory.”
“We’re doing this then, great.” Husk drew in another puff from the smoke and then blew a plume right into those blood red eyes.
Valentino howled with rage and reared back.
Husk dropped the smoke, took a step forward, right into Valentino's personal space, and pulled a pistol from his pocket in one smooth movement. The moth barely had time to register the kiss of the barrel under his chin before an angel bullet tore through his skull.
Brain matter and bone fragments rained down around him, Angel Dust screamed in shock, several people screamed before total silence fell over them. Valentino’s corpse swayed on its feet for a few seconds before crumpling to one side, hitting the ground with an audible thump.
Husk lowered the pistol, checking the barrel for damage before tucking it back into his pocket. He crushed his smoke under one foot and turned to look at Angel Dust, who was staring at him like he was the second coming or some shit.
“Do you still wanna go in for your shift or should I-” Husk started to say.
Angel Dust had six hands, it was important information, especially when four of them were wrapped around your torso and his two free hands were holding your face in place. Husk made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat as Angel Dust rained kisses down on his face but didn’t otherwise protest.
“Fuck, I could blow you right here,” the other demon said when he finally paused in the kisses.
“Best not,” Husk grumbled. “Now get off me, Legs, we’re in public.”
Angel Dust laughed, high and a bit hysterical before his arms tightened around Husk. A tiny choked noise clicked against the back of his throat and Husk felt all the hair on his body start to stand up.
“Holy shit,” Angel Dust choked. “That’s a lot of… fuck, how many contracts did…”
Husk swore under his breath as pure hellish power washed over him, boiling up from the corpse he’d killed and making a beeline for the demon clutching him to his chest. It had been a long time since a Sinner had become an Overlord through the right of succession rather than Conquest or fighting to the top of the heap of a bunch of other schmucks.
It was a sight to behold, the power around them electric and tinged with the heavy aroma of hot, sex drunk skin. Husk squirmed, trying to get out of Angel Dust’s iron hold but there was no escaping from the whirlwind that was an Overlord coming to power.
“Holy shit,” Angel Dust choked.
And then it was over and Husk was several more feet off the ground than he had been minutes earlier. He blinked his eyes open, vaguely wondering when he had closed them only to make a sound he would deny to his last breath.
Angel Dust was at least twice as tall as Valentino had been with the six arms, each tipped with long dexterous talons that were oh so gently wrapped around Husk like he was something precious. All eight of his eyes glowed with a neon pink light and a pair of fanged pintures had formed up in front of his mouth, dripping with venom.
The fur that Husk was pressed into had thickened and brightened, the white whiter, the pink the same neon of his eyes. It was probably slash proof now for all but Alastor’s caliber of claws, Husk’s own fur had been like that once.
But as quickly as Husk took Angel Dust’s demon form the spider seemed to realize what had happened and was shrinking back down to his previous shape and size.
“Well, my dear, effeminate fellow, let me be the first to congratulate you on your ascension to Overlord,” a familiar voice called from literally three feet away.
Husk shrieked and scrambled around Angel Dust to hide from his boss, glaring around a familiar trim waist. Alastor just smiled at him like he always did, wide and without anything behind his eyes.
“Thanks, Smiles,” Angel Dust managed. “Mind if I borrow Husk for a few days to help clean up the mess he made?”
“Why not at all,” Alastor crowed. “In fact keep him, as a gift, call it a mark of good faith. I have a feeling an alliance between us would piss off the walking picture box more than anything else and watching him squirm will be entertaining. Add a few classy speakeasies to your roster and I’ll be much obliged.”
Husk felt his contract manifest and then pass from one Overlord to the next in less time than it took him to blink. And then Alastor vanished back to go cause trouble somewhere else.
“What the actual fuck was that?” Husk asked the street at large.
“Well, Husky, that was me agreeing to keep my vulgarity out of his business if I’m not mistaken, plus the man’s from New Orleans, he’s probably missing some of the classier shit,” Angel Dust said.
“The last thing I’d call Valentino was classy,” Husk grumbled.
“Right, now, let’s go reorganize the kingdom you just handed me, Whiskers.” Angel Dust turned his eyes back to the club he’d been about to enter. “Leave the body, letting it rot for the rats to find’ll send a message.”
And then he walked into the strip joint with his head held high.
“You know, sometimes I forget that you were a Don’s son and then you say shit like that,” Husk grumbled as he followed him inside.