#give vox some credit man

[p1xi3h0110w]

this is what it feels like to read something where vox doesn't have battered wife syndrome

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

what about Valentino, Vox and maybe Stolas when their card declines on a date,yk those couple of gut wrenching awkward seconds before their s/o nervously offers to pay. Thank you in advance if you take this up <3

Wait, what?!

Valentino

"I'm sorry sir, your card declined."

Val sat there for several moments, mind taking a minute as he'd never actually heard those words in that order directed at him.

Turning away from you, he'd stare at the server, the feline demon patiently standing there.

Val sat there for another minute, comprehending the utter fucking audacity of a bitch.

"Your fucking with me right?"

He asked, genuinely giving her a chance to back peddle.

When she just kept standing there, Val jumped to his feet, scowl flaring crossing his features.

"Bitch, I dont need a fucking card, I own the fucking building!" He screamed at her, the girl stumbling back.

He'd go off, snarling at the girl for disrupting your date night, and for something so fucking stupid.

By the end of his rant the restaurant owner had come out, trying to mediate the situation.

He'd chewing him out, asking what kind of incompetent shitheads he hired.

As he did, you'd approach, placing a hand on him. He'd spin around, prepared to snarl at someone, but quickly backed down, shoulders slumping.

You'd take his hand in your own, leading him back to your table, sitting down.

You'd sit in silence for a little while, the restaurant popping up with some 'Complementary Desserts', the two of you eating in silence before he sighed, taking your hand into his.

"I'm sorry for blowing up like that in front of you." He spoke softly.

He was always sure to keep a certain image for you. He did a lot of bad things, far more then even you knew about, as such he did his best to keep a certain image in your eyes.

And loosing his cool and screaming at some girl wasn't helping said Image.

You sighed, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

"It's alright, I'd probably lose my cool too if my employees asked me something like that."

Val chuckled at that, leaning in to kiss your hand.

"I could apologise to her if you'd like?" He asked softly.

To which you'd laugh, scoffing as you waved him off. "Please, as if. That dumb bitch asked you for a credit card in your own club."

At that Val broke into laughter, getting up and stantching you up, kissing you deeply as he carried you out of the restaurant, the two of you only kissing deeper as you left the restaurant, your kissing only getting more heated as you made it to your Limo.

Vox

The night had been set up so perfectly.

He'd gotten a reservation at an extremely classy joint, but not too classy. He wanted it to be like 'yeah, I've got a shit tone of money, but we can still talk without people glaring at us'. That kinda fancy.

So there you were, at the end of an incredible meal, the two of you dining on some very tasty deserts when Vox had given his card, a Luxury very few in Hell had, to pay for your meal.

And as the server came back, the man expecting to be given his card back, instead the server leaned in, speaking those simple words.

"I'm sorry sir, your card was declined."

The Television headed Demon froze, screen glitching as he processed what the actual Hell they'd just said.

Vox turned to the server, staring at them for several moments before he got up, grabbing the server before getting up, and spinning them around, growling at him what the fuck he meant.

He fucking dragged the server away, getting the fucking manager, the two having an exceptionally unsubtle screaming match in the kitchen at the insult to him, Vox, fucking King Teck of Hell, having his fucking card brought back.

After some apologetic words from the manager and getting your meal comped, he'd return.

He'd act as though nothing happened, the man acting all cool and composed, while you just went along with it, finishing your deserts.

And despite the incident, you'd go on to have a lovely night, the man taking you back to his place where you ended the night on a spectacular note.

You had tea, and suggled on a couch and just shared some wholesome intimacy.

Stolas

The night was going incredibly.

You'd been enjoying your meal, talking and laughing, telling stories and jokes, it felt like the science block of a highschool, cause you had chemistry.

The night was going so well, that he was barely aware when he paid the bill, the man in the middle of a hilarious story when the server came back.

"Your card was declined."

He spoke bluntly, with no tact whatsoever.

Stolas froze, head snapping up at him, a frown quickly crossing his face as he stared at the server, the man simply staring back, hand extended, clearly expecting payment.

And so, without missing a beat, Stolas raised his hand, still with a frown, he'd wave his hand, a portal about the size of a dinner plate appearing besides him, before he simply reached in, before pulling out a sack, dropping it before him, the sack opening to reveal a small stack of golden coins.

Pulling out a few he dropped them into there servers hand, telling him bluntly.

"For the bill. No tip."

The server, grumbling to himself, turned and left, the man growling all the way.

Clearing his throat, he'd adjust his attire before turning back to you, finishing his story.

You'd go on to have another desert, Stolas paying with gold, expecting full change.

Which he'd get, with a saide of stink eye from the man.

After the desert and another glass of wine, you'd head back to his, and after another bottle of wine, you'd end up sleeping together.

No, not sex. You'd curl up on one of Stolas' more comfortable couches, the big owl man holding you close, the events of the night long gone from your mind as you slept the night away, comfy and happy in his embrace.

[weebsinstash]

As much as I strongly dislike when a series kind of "cages" the self insert/OC potential of its audience, it's becoming pretty clear that there's a certain level of pre-determined-ness to Sinners and their appearances, almost to the point it's vaguely implied entire sections of Pentagram City are like, ethnically/visually distinct and that every character we see fits into some sort of category and resembles other people. There's an Overlord who's a giant raptor dinosaur and there are other dinosaur Sinners (and also she's like the club/rave based overlord and even has a business, Klub Kaiju, interesting). Valentino is a moth and there are other moths and different bugs like spiders. In the most recent episode showing flashbacks of Hell in Alastor's past, there was a past female Overlord who had the same multi-toned angular swirling hair as Velvette does. In Vox's studio in episode two, he has members of staff that are visually similar to his own aesthetic. Even up in Heaven, Angel's sister Molly still has her spider aesthetic with a halo and cherub wings

so, i guess, to go where I'm ACTUALLY going with this post.... Moth Reader who winds up catching Valentino's eyes because "oh wow we're both moths, isn't that cute" and it escalates into him seeing you as his property, ESPECIALLY if you also have weird drugging/pheromone powers like him

Like can you imagine it? You smack down into the city while he's like having lunch at a cafe or his limo is parked at a light and you're standing up all confused and helpless and cute, hugging yourself as you look around this loud violent scary new place, and you two wind up making exact eye contact and he can tell you're crying and scared, easy prey. Could you picture Reader's equivalent of his coat being that you're in a little hoodie or jacket or shawl and it just unwraps while you're sitting with him. Idk. You accidentally inhale some of his smoke and just give a cute little sneeze and your antenna and your wings are all just poofing out, you basically just equipped that shit from your inventory. On the fence if Reader would have chest fur but maybe your hair hair is really big and long and silky

Moth Reader having eye spots on their wings that can lull someone into hypnosis, or you have some sort of pheromone that makes people weak to your demands, maybe even horny for you, like some mind controlling queen bee ordering her drones. Val's in the bathroom and some creep grabs you and all of a sudden your antenna twitch and his face gets hit with a little puff of 'dust' and suddenly he's letting go of you, "oh my gosh sweetie I am so sorry, here, take all the money in my wallet, you deserve it, I'm so sorry queen, I'm gonna go jump into traffic, sorry queen, sorry, sorry, im a worm, sorry, sorry"

Valentino having unique reactions to your "pollen" as another moth or at least an addict with a tolerance. He buries his face in your neck so you "poof" him on purpose and he's just hotboxing your scent and getting high and horny while you're struggling and squealing. He forces you to use your powers on him and others so they can feel happy and high. At some point he may even force you to keep producing the powder so he can sell it as a drug or a product and at that point you're BIG INCOME for him, he might as well carry you around like his personal vape pen

Like. Can you even imagine "oh yeah Im super lucky enough that i have these powers to protect myself and potentially manipulate others" and you think you're safe and untouchable and this man is like using his fucking credit card to shift your powder into lines to snort it like a rail of cocaine. You can turn "normal" Sinners into your helpless pawns but it loses effectiveness the stronger the person is and this man is like HOTBOXING your shit, all but passing out on the couch with you in his arms in pure drug seeking unrestrained bliss. And then he fucks ya cause I mean, it's YOUR fault he's all hot and bothered now isn't it?

Just Reader not even knowing how much danger they're in because you just got here and have no idea who this guy is and you're just spinning around looking at your new appearance and flapping your little wings and maybe you can even float or fly a little bit, all happy, big big smiles, being all "oh my gosh this is so cool, I feel so cute ^^" and you don't even realize you're practically modeling yourself on a runway to one very, VERY interested customer...

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart, Chapter 2 (Human!Alastor x reader)

Banner Alastors done by @blobin456drawz <3

Human Alastor x married reader Rated Adult for adult themes, triggering content and sexual content. I wouldn't say this is dead dove but it's dead dove adjacent. Chapter Trigger Warnings: Aftermath of domestic violence, talk of human trafficking, drinking.

A note from Kit: First, before anything I want to credit my friends @blobin456drawz, @nyx-umbrakinesis, @wendigonamecaller and the rest of you for the behind the scenes work you've done.

Onto more important matters- Please be mindful. This story is dark and triggering at times. I've written portions to elicit an emotional reaction. As you should always do with dark content, even if you're not at risk of being triggered, please step back and take a breather when needed.

Want to listen rather than read: Nyx productions brings you this Audio chapter. Part 1, part 2, part 3

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

The music was rich in the air, energy from the band wrapping the space in the electric energy that poured from the instruments. Ice clanked in the glass as Alastor spun it in his hand, absently watching the room as he tapped his foot along with the music. Sharp eyes moved from one face to another, watching bodies move and mouths form words, lives wasted. 

There were a few faces that stuck out to him, a few faces he had been monitoring, watching. He wasn’t actively hunting, not at Mimzy’s speakeasy. That would be far too dangerous. However, if his targets were themselves here, it would be sloppy not to take notice of them. 

“Hey, Al,” Mimzy slipped into the tall stool across from him, obscuring his view and demanding all his attention regardless of if he was ready to grant her it. That was how she was, always demanding someone’s full attention regardless of if they wanted to give her it at the moment. 

“New supplier working out well?” Alastor asked, clinking the ice around his glass after taking a small drink. Tonight wasn’t a night for overindulgence. 

“Well enough,” Mimzy made a show of humming, causing Alastor to raise an eyebrow. She had something she wanted to discuss and from her show, he would not like it. 

“What’s the issue?” 

“I’m so glad you asked!” Mimzy shifted, falling into what Alastor considered her damsel in distress position. She had always been easy to read, at least on the surface level. Alastor knew well that more went on below the surface than Mimzy let on, however. It was that hidden depth that made her tolerable in his eyes. 

“You see, Laurence was running next week’s supply last night. It was going great but you know how it goes- he got stopped, got off with a slap on the wrist thanks to his pretty face, but they took his goods and left him with a hefty fine.” 

“That so?” Alastor hummed as he sipped his drink, leaning back in his chair and crossing his leg over his knee. “Do you need help with supply again?” 

“No, no- Nothing like that,” Mimzy watched as Alastor’s shoulders relaxed, counting on that for what she had actually intended to ask. “The thing is, he can’t float the fine and his debts.” 

“How terrible for him.” Alastor knew what she was getting at but wanted her to say it, anyway. 

“He needs a loan from someone who isn’t a shark. Someone who’s a real stand-up guy who won’t run him around.” Mimzy leaned forward, closing some of the distance between them. “I know you got some green stashed away, and he’s as much of a stand up fella as you are. If he goes bust, I’m out a supplier again too.” 

“How much?” Alastor sighed as Mimzy took his glass out of his hand, motioning for a refill for him. 

“Well, you see- it’s not a lot a lot.” She said a lot of words while she stalled, waiting for his topped off drink. It was her opinion that you only asked for a favor from a man when he had a drink in his hand, no matter how well you knew the man. When Alastor again had his glass safely in hand, she got to the point, “A few hundred. Float him the loan, he’ll pay it back with interest. I promise he’s good for it.” 

“Oh, well- if you promise he’s good for it than I have no choice,” Alastor’s smile twitched, “but to say no.”

“Oh, come on, Al!” Mimzy pleaded, leaning on her palms as she leaned up out of the stool and onto the table, “If he can’t settle this debt, he ain’t going to be able to keep supplying me. Either you float him the loan or you’re stuck helping keep me supplied. That’s all there really is to it. You don’t want that and I don’t want to hear you flapping your yap about how much you don’t want to do it either.” 

“Mimzy,” 

“He’ll be good for the money. Just-” Mimzy waved across the room as Alastor’s eyes followed her attention to a tall man with blonde hair and a decidedly square face, calling him over. “Just talk to him? See what he can offer for collateral? Work out a deal?”

“And if I don’t want to?” 

Mimzy just looked over her shoulder at him and smiled before directing her whole energy to the man approaching, “Laurence!” 

“Mimzy! How are you, Beautiful?” The man’s voice was deep and rich, the type of voice women flocked to though Alastor found his imitation of the mid-atlantic accent to be rather sloppy. 

“Oh you,” Mimzy smacked his chest as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Such a flirt. Everyone’s such a flirt. You fellas see little ol me and can’t help yourselves.” 

“That’s exactly it,” the man said, basking in the attention the short woman was lavishing on him. 

“Laurence, dear-” Mimzy patted the man’s chest again before directing her attention to Alastor, “This is Alastor, one of my dearest friends. Al, this is the one and only Laurence.” 

Laurence held his hand out for Alastor to shake. Alastor took it after unfolding off the barstool, standing to his full height and looking down on the blonde man. There wasn’t a huge height difference, but it was noticeable enough that Alastor wanted to ensure the other man felt smaller. 

“A pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure,” Alastor said, firmly shaking Laurence’s hand, long fingers easily wrapping around the other man’s smaller hand. His smile twitched a little wider. Alastor watched the blonde man grimace as he felt the metacarpal bones in the captured hand shift under the pressure of Alastor’s grip. 

“Likewise,” Laurence rubbed his newly freed hand before thinking twice and hiding his discomfort, not before Alastor noticed. 

“Al here,” Mimzy’s hand rested on Alastor’s shoulder before wrapping her arms around his arm, pulling it against her plump chest. “And I was just talking about your situation and he is willing to float you.” 

“A loan.” Alastor added, “The details will need working out of course.” 

“Of course,” Laurence’s smile spread, threatening to challenge Alastor’s before fading. “Of course.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Mimzy patted Laurence’s shoulder as she walked by, looking over her shoulder and throwing Alastor a wink on her way. 

“Mimzy said you needed the loan because you got busted?” Alastor offered, opening the conversation. “Why should I loan you funds if you’re sloppy enough to get caught?”

“That’s an oversimplification,” Laurence tried to laugh off the critique. 

“Typically, in this line of business, one would hold enough funds in reserve to cover losses such as this.” Alastor leaned back in his chair, taking a long drink from his glass as he watched Laurence, taking in the uncomfortable shift of his position and the twitch of his jaw. “How can I be assured you’ll repay this debt? Mimzy seems to believe it will not be an insignificant sum you’re here to grovel for.” 

“I’m not groveling!” Laurence slammed his fist down, rattling the table as Alastor made a show of standing up. “Wait.”

Alastor’s smile twitched higher as he lingered half out of his seat, looking back at the red-faced man as he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. Mimzy wasn’t the only one who could put on a show. 

“I’m not here to grovel.” Laurence said again, calmer this time. “I need the funds. I’m in a bit of a spot, but I’m good for it.”

“And what can you offer for collateral?” 

“I can offer a man’s most prized possession.” Laurence’s smile turned slimy. 

“And what would that be?” Alastor settled fully in his seat once again, picking up his glass as he refused to let his smile fall wholly from his lips. When Laurence answered, Alastor nearly choked on the drink in his mouth. 

“My wife.” 

“That hardly will compensate me for any lost funds. I’m not sure what sort of man you are under the impression that I am, but I do not deal with the buying and selling of women.” Alastor’s voice was hard, cutting with his displeasure. 

“That’s not-” 

“It’ll take a few hours for me to get the funds together. If you’ll have me over for dinner tomorrow, we can finalize the details. You have until then to think of something more appropriate for collateral.” 

You sat at your vanity, looking into the face of a woman that looked like you but didn’t feel like you in the slightest. Your nightgown hung from your too thin frame. Stress and pressure to be perfect both from Laurence and from society pressed in around you as tears ran down your cheeks and dripped off your chin. 

“Laurence is a good man,” you whispered to yourself, shattering the silence in the room with the bold-faced lie told in the face of the irrefutable evidence that he was indeed not a good man. “Laurence is a good man.” 

Your arms were stiff, sore as you forced the muscles to function. Dark bruises wrapped around your biceps, evidence of his harsh hands grabbing you, shaking you. Green and yellow covered your ribs, no longer actively paining you but a visual reminder of what happened when he thought you talked back. Your shoulder ached, but that was so often the case that it felt like a constant pain.

Those marks would all be covered by your dress, at least. There were small blessings. The bruise around your wrist would be harder to cover, but first you had to cover the redness in your face. 

Your eyes were puffy, skin irritated and uneven, both from a night spent crying and from the back of his hand striking you. The blows hadn’t been too bad, sending you to the floor the night before, but it could have been worse. What was your infraction last night, anyway? You couldn’t remember. 

Your face didn’t hurt much, not as much as the rest of you. More often than not, he kept his hands off your face. Facial bruising drew too much attention. Too many marks where others could see it would shatter the impression of perfection he worked so hard to maintain. 

Cooling cream felt good against your skin as you willed the tears to stop. Now wasn’t the time for tears. What good did tears do you, anyway? Tears didn’t change your life and what was there to cry about? 

It was a good life, when you didn’t upset him at least.

He was your husband. He supported you, cared for you, and provided for you. All you had to do was shut up and do what he said. Trust him and stop asking questions. Just stop thinking. 

But that wasn’t who you were. You were a woman who liked to think, to learn and to use your mind. 

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter in the slightest who you were or what sort of woman you were. It didn’t matter what sort of woman you wanted to be.

He was your husband. He would be your husband forever. Even if he wasn’t, you couldn’t marry better than him. He had come from a good family, bringing you financial security above what you could have hoped for. Your parents were proud of the match they had arranged, beaming that your beauty and countenance secured you such a step up in the world for yourself and, in time, your children.

With one last look in the mirror, you decided your work was good enough. Your blush was too bright, not keeping in with the trends and your eyeshadow not smoky enough. Laurence wouldn’t give you the money to update to the latest trends, saying that you didn’t need it. Instead, you did the best you could with what you had.

Your dress, laid out on the bed and waiting for you, was likewise just a touch out of fashion. It was longer than that of your peers, but that was alright. Laurence said it flattered your figure better than the newer styles. You wouldn’t be able to pull off those newer styles, your frame was simply not thin enough. 

You were not enough or too much in some way or another according to him, for the latest looks. 

This was better for you. 

Laurence knew best. 

As you stood, the world spun around you. The floor felt like it was tilting under your feet. Fingers dug into the solid surface of the vanity as you counted down from five, eyes clenched shut with a deep breath between each number.

Once the world felt steady, you made yourself drink some water. Hydration wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a solid place to start. Some water, some crackers and smoked meat that you kept in your bedside table, and you’d be right as rain again.

You just needed to get dressed first. 

Joints ached as you took slow, careful steps toward the bed and slipped the dress over head. Carefully, you used your good arm to pull your sore arm through the sleeve, trying to avoid moving the screaming shoulder joint any more than needed. Once you had accomplished that feat, you switched your focus on dressing the rest of yourself, pulling the zipper up while holding your sore arm close to your body. 

You’d take something for the pain too, you decided as you rolled the stockings up your legs, one at a time. That would make you right as rain. 

The more you moved, the easier it was to move. You told yourself you were just stiff, that was all, as you slipped bangle bracelets over your wrist. If you put enough on, maybe they would obscure the dark marks on your skin. More and more you added until it was enough. 

Looking at yourself one last time, you pulled your painted lips into a smile. You were happy; you told yourself. Your marriage was wonderful. Laurence was a wonderful husband. You were lucky. 

You were lucky.

Laurence swept through the front door like a gust of wind, a wide smile on his face. Flinching when he kicks the door closed behind him, you step away from the wall you had been using as support and stood up as straight as you could. 

Laurence quickly crossed the living room and swept you up in his arms. You cringed back in pain as he spun you around without a care in the world. 

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you, sweetheart?” Laurence stepped back, hands soft on your shoulders as he looked at you with a surprising amount of concern. 

“My shoulder- it’s just a bit tender is all,” you answered carefully, forcing yourself to relax in his hands. 

He was in a good mood. He was happy. This was good. You were safe, at least for now. It’ll be a good night. Well, as good of a night as you could hope for.

“I’m sorry, you know. I am.” Laurence’s hands ran down your arms, thumbs caressing the soft fabric of your dress. “I- it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t talked back to me. A man wants a meek wife, you know that. You can be that for me, right?”

He rested his palm against the same cheek he had backhanded the night before, and you told yourself that he was right as you forced yourself to lean into his touch. Laurence was a good man, and you were lucky to have him. Why didn’t it feel like that was true? Why did it feel like you could have had better?

“Let's go out for dinner, yeah?” Laurence offered, “You won’t have to worry about making dinner or cleaning up the kitchen. How’s that sound?” 

For all the good that came with Laurence’s good mood, there was a negative side of it, too. His hand was heavy on your thigh, thumb caressing you in the theater’s shroud of darkness. 

This was another song and dance you knew well and would rather not take part in. You were not sure what was worse, if you were being honest with yourself, romance with Laurence or violence with him. 

Still, you fought back the grimace as he pulled you in for a kiss in front of the cinema after the show had ended. This was as much your duty as it was to do the washing. 

“Let’s get home, Sweetthing.” Laurence wrapped his arm around your waist, not caring about how that jammed your painful shoulder right into his side as he held you to him. 

“You’re in such a good mood,” you cringed as he jostled you into his side more, swallowing the pain.

“Well, yeah- I’ve got a business deal falling into place and we’re celebrating.” 

That was news to you, though Laurence rarely spoke of business with you. You knew sometimes when things went well and you knew sometimes when things went bad, but never the details. Women were not to know the details of business in his eyes. Their hormone filled brains simply couldn’t handle the complexities of the professional world.

Things had gone badly a few days ago, terrible, but he hadn’t told you that. You didn’t need a conversation around business to tell you that when the information was written in his mood and his fists. It was better now; it seemed and business would birth a different sort of pain for you tonight. 

“Tomorrow we’re going to be having a dinner guest,” Laurence’s grip on you kept the pressure on your shoulder and there was no part of you that thought for a moment that he wasn’t aware of the pain he was causing. He just didn’t care. Appearances were more important to him than something as trivial as your comfort. 

“That’s such short notice,” you protested, thinking better of it only when the words were already out of your mouth. 

“Don’t ruin this night for me, Doll.” His voice was deep with warning, “You’re going to make a lovely dinner and my associate is going to come over. I’ll seal the deal and you’ll show him how perfect of a wife you are, however I decide is needed.” 

You didn’t know what he was getting at, but it sounded like a threat. It wasn’t something you wanted to discover, however. 

“Hey, Al-” Mimzy tugged on the sleeve of his coat, drawing his attention from the stream of people exiting the theater. He would lose sight of his mark, but that was just as well. He wouldn’t strike tonight. Tonight was simply for observation. “That’s the pretty face of the tailor, ain’t it?” 

“It seems so,” Alastor feigned surprise as his eyes followed her gloved finger. 

He had noticed them the moment they filed into the theater. Timid little thing, meek with her shoulders slumped and his arm around her. What a magnificent turn of events to find the timid little thing appeared to be Laurence’s wife. 

Did she know her husband was willing to offer her up like cattle as collateral on a loan if he needed it bad enough? Or did she think her marriage was sacred under the cover of her husband’s rough hands?

“Is that Laurence she’s with?” Mimzy broke through his thoughts.

“Told you she had a man,” Alastor looked away, directing his attention to his companion, ignoring the way the woman’s shoulders slumped more under her husband’s touch or the way she flinched every time he grabbed her. 

“Should we go say hi?”

“Let them have their night out on the town. There will be plenty of other chances to talk business.” Alastor looked back at his friend, her eyes lingering on the couple a few moments longer. “Shall we?”

Tag List: @xalygatorx, @charlottemorningstarsdarling, @honestlyshamelesskid, @lilith-jae, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty, @rainydaysmut, @nyx91, @goyablogsstuff, @kaylopolis, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @diffidentphantom, @yui-onnero, @lunarmango, @uhhhimbored, @loveameripanshipperlove

Next? Masterlist

[finn-writes-stuff]

Jack of All Trades (pt 2)

A follow-up to -this- post, with the rest of the party. The Original Request: Hello. If you're willing and have the time, I jumbly request a TLOVM headcannon for the team having an s/o who steals their weapons and tries to figure out to use them. What would their reactions be and would they/how would they teach them to use the weapons?

Percy, Vax, Scanlan & Grog x Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

Some credit to my lovely partner for giving me accurate info about their specific weapons. As well as a discussion on whether or not you can say Percy or Orthax invented Guns. -Finn

Percy

With anyone else in the party, there's a good chance you may have used a weapon like theirs before. But not Percy and his guns. These are his own inventions, new to Tal'Dorei completely.

They are also powered by exploding gunpowder. He is a little bit worried about letting you handle them.

Hearing a gunshot when he isn't causing it is a deep cause of concern for him, please don't steal his guns, just ask.

Percy will absolutely teach you! It's a chance to have his arms around you as he steadies your aim and stance.

He's a very...specific teacher. You have to make sure he doesn't get too wrapped up in the fine details. Keep him on track with how to shoot and he won't get way into the actual mechanics of the hammer of the gun.

Let him watch you shoot after you get the hang of it. He'll start to understand why you like watching him so much.

Vax

This man owns so many knives. He has a full-out collection of daggers. Hugging him is a dangerous prospect because you never know where one is hiding.

And with all the different daggers, it can't be that hard to steal one or two of them. How could he even notice?

Stealing them proves to be surprisingly hard. He doesn't store many of them, they always seem to be on his person.

But once you manage it, it's quite a lot of fun to handle a truly well-made dagger. In a fantasy world like this, every adventurer has held a dagger, but Vax turns it into an art and his tools reflect that.

They are also insanely sharp. Don't get too cocky with them.

He swipes them out of your hands when he finds you with them, and it's obvious just how experienced he is with handling knives. He can twist and spin them without a glance or a nick.

"Well, well, someone's got sticky fingers, hey love?"

He'll teach you how to throw them accurately and how to spin them without hitting your fingers. He will also tease you while you practice before you get the hang of it.

Scanlan

Scanlan doesn't particularly use a weapon! He's fairly strictly a spellcaster.

That being said, his instruments are likely the next best thing, particularly his lute. And that is his baby, best of luck stealing it.

If you ask him, he'll let you play it and he'll teach you during downtime. He will also serenade you for demonstrations.

He'll be annoyed if you take it without asking though. His music is a source of safety for him as much as a source of joy.

Let him teach you songs around the fire at night and serenade him in return. He won't stop smiling for ages.

Grog

Grog has had some...questionable weapons. Perhaps don't borrow Craven's Edge.

But borrowing his axe or his gauntlets is a world of fun. Even if they might not be well weighted for anyone who isn't as strong as he is.

You will quickly realize how much work goes into swinging his axe and it puts his effortless attacks into a very different light for you.

Grog laughs out loud when he sees you using his weapons, but it's full of fondness and affection.

Even if he isn't exactly academically clever, this is his skill set, he knows how to fight and he does it well. So he's a really good teacher as he corrects your stance and grip.

His teaching method also includes encouraging you to just swing at him, so you'll need a bit of courage and faith that you won't hurt him.

[labyrinthofsphinx]

Behold, terrible people and the muffin they stole!

A scene from my drabble below. Wanted to do something special so a bit of art to go with. As always, let me know your thoughts, guys!

Statistical Outliers

“So, I’m your man, huh?”

“You know, it’s a fucking shame you just got that new head of yours because if you say that one more fucking time, I will bash it in again.”

The day hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but he won’t complain about the ending, at least. After calming both Valentino and Velvette down, enough that a manhunt for the imagined Alastor shadow wasn’t going to sound off anytime soon, he had to compensate them for…well, their time, he’d suppose. He didn’t expect that kind of reaction, the reactionary viciousness. Which also meant compensation had to be just as well.

Vel was easy to fix. He just gave her his credit card. Go nuts with it.

Val was harder to please, but less painful to his wallet. He still took him out, rented out the whole nightclub for just him and his groupies. They drank like fish and spent a terribly long time in the club’s backrooms. Val, still reeling from the damage Vox did to him just the night before, was absolutely ravaged by days end.

Not that the day ended when they got back, mind you. Hence the teasing.

“No need to be so hostile, Val. I’m just saying-”

“Yeah? Well, now you need to shut up.”

He was on the lounge, trying to pretend like he wasn’t showing off his legs again. As if they weren’t already covered top to bottom in marks, bites, and scratches. He stretched out, arms gliding along his hips, toying with the belt of yet another bathrobe that Vox will need to replace. The man was insatiable, he’ll give him that.

“Hmm.” He brought his head forward, right next to Val’s antenna. They were sensitive, much more than you’d expect. The slight vibrations of a voice sent them twitching. The static from a TV had them spiraling. Vox teased a breath by them. “Sure, Val. Whatever you want, today.”

He didn’t really want him to shut up. It was one of his favorite things about Vox, he’s pretty sure. Valentino was a man of ego, and he loved nothing more than having it stroked in every possible, conceivable way. He’s never said as much, but he’s pretty sure that’s why he always petitions him in the monitor room. There’s just something appealing to the man about having eyes watch them from everywhere, of hearing praise from everywhere. Especially if it was Vox’s.

He shivered when Vox ever so gently ran his fingers through with his antenna. Had he not been spent from before, Vox’s is pretty sure Val would’ve leapt up and dragged Vox to the floor with him.

“What I want would involve enough screaming to wake the damn ring.” He huffed.

“Oh, you want to scream now?” Vox teased. “I can help with that.”

“Vox, you talk too much.” He said, as if he wasn’t vibrating from the idea.

“That’s what they tell me.” He joked, pulling away enough to make Valentino miss his presence by his side.

It was always like this, this tugging and pulling. Some days, Val would want nothing more than Vox. Other days, well, Vox loses his face. One could never quite tell where the dice were going to land, but he’d be a liar to say that there wasn’t something he loved about it, in a sick sense of the word. Sure, he never wanted to get his head rearranged, but Val being in a violent mood could be fun, has been fun in the past.

It was just a whole lot less fun when he ended up with the target on his head. Honestly, he can’t even remember when that started to happen, only that he just had to account for it in the schedule and budget.

But at least it was still Vox. His anger and desire was still centered on Vox.

Until Angel Dust happened.

Cut it out, Vox. Don’t think of him right now. That line of thinking never goes anywhere good. Besides, he was still on camera! Can’t be frowning in the middle of the scene, now can we?

His hands quickly wrapped around Val’s sides. Before he had time to react, he’d already pulled him up in his arms. Val’s legs hitched at Vox’s waist, and his arms tugged across his shoulders and face.

That was another thing Val loved, being manhandled. Being eleven feet tall apparently gives people the wrong impression, but Vox knew better. Val was a moth, a fuzzy casing of exoskeleton covering nothing but softness underneath. He seemed strong because he was big, and because some of that frame gave him power to work with. But it was nothing compared to the complex dance of flesh, bone, and machinery. He’s not as tall, obviously, but there was a reason Val always chose to aim for his face or the delicate parts still left on his skin. If he bit too far, or aimed just a little wrong, Val could accidentally end up damn near breaking his own hand.

 Machines didn’t have the same rules for bodies that living things do. Both were complicated and everything inside served a function for higher operations, but machines were made to carry out everything at a hundred percent of their ability. They do what they’re programed to, nothing more and nothing less. Organic machinery was built for the opposite, the gradients and the fine tuning. One was determination made from metal and iron, and the other was calculation on the scale of nerves and cells. And Vox was a mismatched mess stuck between the two.

That meant that when he did decide to pull, there was little Val could do but ride out the wave. Not that this wasn’t already what he had in mind, given his poison nearly dripping onto Vox’s face.

“Oh, I should’ve just gone to that shitty hotel and brought you back Alastor’s head.” Val purred. “I can’t imagine what you’d do then.”

While in theory that was incredibly hot, Vox wasn’t going to be giving him any ideas. Especially since this is Val, and he might think his stupid theory is a good idea later.

“Don’t tell me your thinking of leaving now?” Vox’s voice added a bit of television fading, just as he brought a finger to tease the length of Val’s spine.

“Oh, not on your life.”

“Good.”

One last steamy session on the longue later and a cleanup in the bath that also might’ve gotten a little steamy, and Vox had them both tucked into his bed. He never smoked Val’s cigarettes, even after they were done. Sure, it might not have the same effect on him as it does others, screen head and all that, but something in the chemicals brings his thoughts around to the worst. Maybe Val smoked too much before making out, because Vox’s head was dragging him around even without the visible smoke.

Alastor wasn’t just a Vox problem. Val probably knew that better than Vel, but she’s been around long enough to know. If the king falls, the game is over, isn’t it? Is that the only reason they came charging in today? Maybe. And why would he expect something else? He shouldn’t.

Every machine had a use, a function. Vox keeps the train moving. Vox keeps the Vees at the top. Vox keeps all of Hell focused on them, loving them.

But to his fellow Vees? Vox solves problems. That’s his function.

He admits there’s attachment there but, well, let’s just say he’s never under the assumption that the attachment wasn’t built from necessity. Like a certain radio freak mentioned once, keep only the necessities, everything else is a potential liability.

But then there’s days like today. When something bad almost happened, or he thought it would, and he was a little surprised they showed up. I mean, obviously they would. As he said, he was required for things to work. The body didn’t function without a brain.

That didn’t stop his replay on Val’s and Vel’s words, ‘my man’ and ‘my boys’ respectively. He liked the sound of that.

Then, of course, there was the kid. He literally clawed his way up most of the levels of Vee tower to make sure he was alive. Not to mention that this is literally like the second time he’s promised to maim the kid and he still insists that they’re friends. If it wasn’t for the fact that he tested what the kid said about his suggestions not working before Vel took him to the spa, Vox would be questioning if he accidentally hypnotized the kid into liking him. Because none of that is normal. Then again, who the hell is normal down here?

The more he thinks on it, what was the kid’s plan? What if Alastor had been in the room? What if they were fighting? What if Vox was losing? Not that he would, because he wouldn’t be, but hypothetically. What would he do then?

He wasn’t good in a fight, that much was clear. He didn’t have powers, and certainly nothing that would stand up eldritch shadow demons…

Wait, did he just assume the kid would be on his side? Why did his calcs jump to that?

Feedback on his systems told him exactly why, playing back footage from the past several days. Simply, because Vox was his friend, and it was obvious now that there was little he wouldn’t do for his friends.

Oh, fucking damn it. The kid latched on like tumor to the brain.

He liked that kid, selfishly and stupidly attached to him.

He was trying hard not to smile, but it’s difficult to force a face without muscles to do much of anything, especially when his program literally pours his thoughts into expression. And it was hard to be in a bad mood right now.

‘My man’. ‘My boys’. ‘My friend’.

“Voxxy, your screen is pink.”

“Shut up, Val.”

“Oh, it’s practically maroon now.”

“Shut the fuck up, Val!”

Like adding gasoline to flame, the bedroom door was flung open. Distracted as he’d been, he failed to notice that Vel had come back from the spa and already jumped into pajamas. She kicked open the door, and waltzed in like she owned the place. In her arms, the kid dangled like a stuffed animal fresh out the dryer.

“I’m assuming since you guys are talking in full sentences that you’re done now?” Vel said. For once, her phone was tucked away, probably in a pocket in her lounge shorts.

“‘Till the morning, I suppose. It’s the best way to start mornings.” Val answered for them, a finger teasing the side of Vox’s head.

The kid’s expression was blank, like he was staring into a void. He was clean at least.

“What happened to you?” Vox asked.

“We went to the spa.” Mimicking Val, Velvette answered for the two of them. “I got everything done, including a two hour massage. The masseur was some centipede guy, thousand arms and all. You really need steal that guy, Vee. My back feels great.”

He kept looking at the kid, waiting for his answer. When he finally decided that he could answer with the other two around, he spoke like he was experiencing a flashback to a war.

“I now know what it’s like to be play-doh.”

Despite himself, Vox tossed his head back, rolling.

“Anyways,” Vel readjusted the kid in her arms and started walking over to the bed. “you two are dressed, yeah? Because this is an invasion.”

Well, Val was as dressed as Val ever is, kept decent just barely by the length of Vox’s robes. He really needed to start ordering them five sizes too tall at this point. As for himself, he had the decency to swap into regular pajamas…just in case he and kid couldn’t sleep and wanted to give Asteroids another go.

Not that Velvette waited for an answer. The bed was big, obviously. It had to be to hold Val. Save for when he unfolds his wings, the bed could hold an ungodly amount of people. Honestly, it was just cheaper to buy two of the same size bed when he was ordering Val’s. That’s the only reason it was so stupidly big. Vox didn’t share the bed often enough to warrant it, unlike Val.

Velvette climbed over him, landing just beneath his right arm and tucking herself against his chest. In doing so, she pulled off the blanket. Probably a smart decision because of how hot Vox was to sleep against. He was unofficially Velvette’s favorite that-time-of-the-month pillow. Val, to his left, just wrapped his arms around Vox’s legs and his left arm, as per always.

The kid was crushed in the space between Vel’s body and his own. With all that fur, he could imagine it was going to get very hot, very quickly there. Using the one arm that hadn’t been abducted yet, he punched the pillow beside his head. Then, he snuck down, plucked the kid up, and put him on it.

He was rewarded by an honest smile. In hell, that was a pretty rare gift.

Then, the little body wrapped around that arm, a big fluffy tail curling down and tickling his sides. Holy shit, he was small. The kid was curled almost entirely into the palm of his hand.

Before he even knew it, he was surrounded. Trapped, you might even say, by a tangled mess of bodies all fighting for a bit of his body heat.

Oh, there were worse ways to end the evening. Barring something amazing happening, like Alastor keeling over dead or Lucifer handing over his crown, this might just be as good as it gets.

You know, fuck that heaven bullshit. This was heaven.

“’Night, Vee.” Velvette mumbled, half asleep.

“Night, guys.”

He didn’t get to sleep right away. He stayed awake long enough to hear the little noises, an offkey song of sleep. Val squeaked in his sleep, randomly. His wings would flutter together sometimes, but the fuzz on the scales kept it from sounding much more than the sound of skin touching skin. Vel talks in her sleep, sort of. She mumbles more than anything. It was never enough to make a sentence out of, in fact it sounded a bit like baby babble. Occasionally, her phone would ping, but he was so used to the sound now that it was basically a backtrack to his day.

The kid was the newest sound. He knew now that foxes could, apparently, squeak. But, as Vox was sitting there and gingerly gliding his fingers through freshly cleaned fur, he heard a different sound.

They purr? Why do they purr?

Unconsciously, the kid snuggled his face into Vox’s hand, the ridiculously soft coat almost swallowing up his digits.

Oh, this was all too cute. This was all too fucking much for today. Cuteness aggression hit him like a truck again, and it was a struggle against every instinct in his body not to move, for fear of ruining it all by waking one of them up.

Then, he caught on something.

The collar that Velvette had put on the kid on day one was snug tight against his throat. Drowned out by his fur, Vox had almost forgotten about it. It felt so odd, out of place. The cold metal stuck flat to his skin, with only the little charm hanging a little more comfortably away.

He tugged a little, just enough to see it better.

The bright blue ‘V’ looked almost neon in the dark, surrounded by that deep red heart. It really did look like a dog collar like this, didn’t it?

Dehumanizing something was easy here. No one even looked human anymore. Very few acted human even when they were alive.

A few days ago, he didn’t give it a second thought. He couldn’t have cared less. Now though?

Carefully, he undid the little magnetic hook in the back. Unlike a normal collar, this one was designed to never come off, not unless one of the three of them did it. The key was a simple, a contrary magnetic pull that would activate the lock, but too strong or too weak of a pull would just break it and cause it to get stuck. Vel probably had the actual key in her room, but it didn’t take much of Vox’s power to undo a little magnetic flux.

He twirled it around the kid’s wrist instead, like a bracelet, not unlike the ones Velvette always wears anyways. As the clasp closed, his little paw wrapped around his palm, bringing it back up to his face and cradling it like a pillow.

“Night, Drift.” Vox said, before letting the night and its new symphony drag him off someplace nice.

That might’ve been the best sleep of his life.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11

[soft--dragon]

Loosen Up

So recently I finished Vox Machina and if you haven't seen I highly recommend it!! SUCH a good show oh my lord. Can't wait for the third season to drop :D

You can view the relationships however you like, I don't mind ^^ (except Vex and Vax, they're siblings, don't be weird :/)

Word Count: 3,138

Warnings: Kinda spoils a plot line in season one but nothing major ^^

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

It isn’t a secret that Percy is a bit of a stick in the mud.

Rarely did he let his walls down and simply be. Too caught up in his world of smoking guns and exploding inventions. A lifetime of heartache shutting his heart away in a cast iron keep that very few had a key to access. This also meant emotions such as joy, love, and contentment were rare to be exposed from behind those defensive gates.

That was before Vox Machina. 

A chaotic, rambunctious group of outcast individuals working with the skills they had to make it through another day. A ragtag family doing its best to survive in a world that would spit at their feet and tell them to fuck off. 

However, this family knew how to tell the world right back to fuck off too. 

Percy honestly couldn’t imagine his life with these people a few years ago, but now he simply could not fathom a reality without them. Tight-knit and stupid and loving, never faulting in their care. It was something Percy told himself to never take for granted, no matter how much they tested his patience. 

Much like tonight, where he was being subjected to the most irritating forces known to man: Vex and Vax when they were on the hunt for entertainment.

Percy is sitting near the fire, sketchbook in hand with rough charcoal drawings of new inventions scattering the pages. Vex and Vax have boxed him in by sitting on either side, peering at his notes and asking such incomprehensibly odd questions Percy wanted to know who the hell tutored these two monsters.

Honestly Vax, why would a pistol need a compartment for snacks? 

It took almost fifteen minutes before Percy's patience gave in and the notebook snapped shut with a dull thud. “Are you two quite finished?” Percy demands, staring at the duo with a narrow gaze. 

Vex grins, raising a hand in surrender. “We’re curious about your new inventions, love. Is there something wrong with that?”

Percy huffs, tucking his book into the folds of his jacket that is laid not too far from the flames, warming up for the night ahead. “Only when you keep badgering me to make a glove that turns whatever it touches into gold.”

“It would be quite helpful, dear.”

“And far out of my current capabilities, I’m not a wizard.”

“Oh, give yourself some credit, Freddy,” Vax grins. “Grow a beard and I’d say you’re plenty wizard-like. With your lifespan, you’ll need a cane before you know it, and it could act as your staff.”

Percy glares at him under half-lidded eyes. “Thank you, Vax’ildan,” he says sarcastically. “Remind me that I will die much sooner than the rest of you, just what I needed to hear tonight.”

Vex snickers, gently bumping his shoulder with her own so those green eyes look at her. “Oh come on, we’re just messing with you, Percival. What’s got you so grumpy this time?”

Percy gave her a mildly incredulous look. “I’m not grumpy.”

“He says while glaring, and with a bitter tone of voice,” Vax murmurs with a grin. 

Percy shoots him a dry look which the male elf only laughs at. “See? That’s exactly what I mean, man!”

Vex’ahlia laughs, dropping her arms over her bent legs and cocking her head to the side. “What is it gonna take to make you loosen up, Percy?”

“A good bottle of wine, some peace and quiet, and a book.”

“We have two silver to our name and a bear,” Vax counters. “Can’t quite match your aristocrat taste, but Trinket tells great stories.”

Trinket, nestled comfortably at the edge of the cave where the other party members are conversing, does not indicate that he knows, nor cares that his owners are talking about him. Percy envied that damn bear, able to go to sleep and easily block out the surrounding sounds. What a dream life. 

“Trinket is busy sleeping,” Percy tells them, “his stories will have to wait.”

Vex isn’t dissuaded by Percy’s bristling attitude, instead leaning more into his personal space just because she can. “Darling,” she says, “We just want to help you relax, is this such a big ask?”

“...Yes.”

“Aeugh, the drama of this man,” Vax chuckles through an exasperated breath, elbowing Percy’s side gently. 

The white-haired human flinches away from the contact with a start, his hand shooting down to rub the area. “Yes, yes, you’ve stated I am a dramatic piece of shit more than once, Vax. I believe your point is made.” 

The twins aren’t listening to Percy’s grumbles. The second he flinched, they’d locked eyes, a conversation played out with expression alone.

Vex narrows her gaze. Hurt?

No. Healed by Pike from the last mission.

Just startled, then? 

Seemed more than that. He knew we were right there.

So what are you thinking? 

Perhaps…

Vex perks a brow at her brother when his expression suddenly brightens in some kind of realization. Her eyes flit over to Percy who was unaware of their silent musings, still resolutely crossing his arms with a scowl that the fire did not deserve to be subjected to. She looks back to her sibling who is grinning now. Vax gives a small flex of his fingers, his eyebrows jumping up and down. Understanding hits Vex and her smile turns evil, nodding minutely. They wink at each other, the excitement for a game making them giddy though they contained it. Couldn’t let Percy catch on too early after all. 

“Percy~” Vex coos in her sultry voice, not missing the slight twitch in his face from her tone. The sight makes her all the more eager to extract the plan she and her brother had silently communicated. She lifts her fingernails to her eyes to examine them. “You sure we can’t convince you to loosen up at least a little?”

There was a scoff. “I’d like to see you try,” Percy muttered.

Oh excellent, an invitation. 

“Well, if the man insists, Stubby, who are we to ignore him?” Vax leaps for the opportunity with a grin that’s all charm and Cheshire-like. 

“I agree,” Vex smirks. “Shall we?”

Simultaneously, the two half-elves grab one of Percy’s wrists each and fling him onto his back, his arms being pinned by his head. A startled yelp leaps out of the human, the sudden gravity shift leaving him to stare up at the pair of matching grins. He tugs at his arms. They won’t budge. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Percy asks, bewildered and slightly on edge. 

“You said we could try and loosen you up,” Vex answers.

“By wrestling me to the dirt and pinning me down?” 

“Oh no, we just had to get you in a better position, dear heart,” Vax smirks.

“A better pos- for what?” 

The bemused and exasperated question only delights his captors further, and this is where Percival Fredrickson de Rolo the Third realizes a very fatal error. He had been encouraging the chaotic force that was the Elf Twins. He'd practically been asking for trouble. This realization only sinks in further when Vax’s free hand comes down to rest on Percy’s clothed stomach.

“Percy, you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish would you?” 

Oh.

Oh gods, no.

Memories spring to Percy’s mind of laughing himself hoarse while dogpiled under his siblings from the silly battles. The sensations scuttling everywhere, unstoppable and unbearable. His realization shows up in his face in the form of a pink flush and the beginnings of a wobbly grin that he desperately tries to keep under control.

“Oh, I see a smile trying to come out there!” Vex leers keenly, lowering her own hands to wiggle her fingers close to Percy’s side, delighting in his immediate response to wriggle away despite his efforts to seem indifferent to his dilemma. 

“V-Vex, this is ludicrous-” Percy splutters, his grin becoming wider by the second, his resolution foiled from years of inexperience in this game. 

“So you are ticklish, then?” Vax questions, his fingers gently pressing from where they are resting atop Percy’s lean stomach. 

The flinch and sharp intake of breath was answering enough. Percy’s ears were starting to burn from the attention, torn between wanting to wrench away and escape this playful teasing, or staying and trying to muscle through in a show of defiance. 

“I’m- it’s been a very long time since someone has tried,” Percy answers stiffly. 

The way the twins lit up made him cringe back, instantly knowing that was the worst thing he could’ve said.

“Well now we have to tickle you,” Vex exclaims like her word is law. Though, with her role in the group, it may as well be. 

Percy is most definitely blushing now. It was honestly adorable. “N-No you don’t!” He protests, his boots now shuffling into the dirt in hopes of dislodging his sudden capture. “I’m not even tihicklish!” Damn it.

“Was that a laugh?” Vax coos, delighting in a sound so rare from Percy who barely even grins on a good day. Percy is doing his best to try and become an ostrich with how far he’s turning his flushed face into the ground, stumbling refusals not quite managing to leave his lips coherently. 

“Why my dear brother, I think it was,” Vex chuckles. ‘Shall we see what else we can pull from our resident sour puss?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Electricity crackles through Percy’s sides and stomach in a split second, a strangled sound being pulled from a forgotten section of his vocal cords. His whole body instantly jack-knifes, legs trying to pull to his stomach to protect the sensitive areas suddenly under attack. Stubbornness makes him clamp his lips shut and bite his tongue, not wanting to give the twins the satisfaction of hearing him laugh again. He refused.

“Hmm, seems we’ve got a stubborn one in our hands, Vex,” tuts Vax, his fingers probing up and down Percy’s ribcage, noting every flinch and muffled grunt let out by the human. 

“Oh don’t worry, he’ll crack eventually.” Her eyes meet Percy’s and her smile makes his stomach twist in anticipation. She winks. “They all do.”

Her hand starts to slink down to his hip bones and- Nope. Nope. Nope. Not gonna happen, he’d rather get possessed by a demon again. Percy’s struggling kicks up, trying to find momentum with his legs to dislodge the grip pinning his wrists to the cave floor, still fighting not to crack as Vax’s fingers deftly squeeze his sides. He almost manages to heave himself to sit up, but a well-placed scratch at his lower back sends him crashing back down. His legs fly up to his stomach again, desperate to protect some part of his sensitive body while his chest shakes with restrained laughter. 

“Uh uh, not yet mister, we’re not done with you until you laugh~” says Vex, her hand dropping to lightly scuttle behind Percy’s knee that was right beside her.

Percy yelps, immediately kicking his legs back out, and scrunches into himself in a fast motion. The reaction made the twins pause, and he knew he was royally screwed. 

“Interesting, he might be like you. I think the gentler stuff works better on him,” Vex says to her brother, her hand dropping to Percy’s hips once more and scuttling her nails featherlight across the man’s skin.

“NoHAHaha!” Percy protests, his yelp swimming between stolen laughter that tries vainly to escape his throat, his head being tossed back against the floor as his body tries to do an emergency lockdown on his vocal cords. 

“Brilliant, sister,” Vax chuckles, and before Percy can prepare himself, he spiders his claws up along Percy’s stretched torso with a softened touch.  

Immediately, Percy sputters, and the dam finally cracks. “S-Shihihihit! Vehehex! Vahahax! Ohoho gohohod!” Percy gasps out through fits of boyish laughter, a sound so out of character for the gunslinger that it takes the twins aback in surprise.

His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink, standing out against his pale complexion and white hair. A wide, mirthful smile cracked out against his brooding face, nose scrunching in a way that couldn’t be described as anything but endearing. His body didn’t know whether to fight or fold, the long-forgotten instinct of childhood leaving him withering and laughing from the soft fingertips spidering along sensitive skin.

“Well, how about that,” Vax murmured, something gentle in his voice despite the mean wiggling of his nails on a particularly sensitive rib. “He can laugh.”

“Oh much more than that, dear brother,” Vex smiled fondly. “He isn’t grumpy now.”

Experimentally, her fingers swirl up Percy’s unprotected ribs to dance gently under his arm to see if it would have much effect. Oh, and it does. Percy practically squeals. High-pitched and panicked and childlike, his struggles for his pinned arms make a reappearance as the sensitive hollows are attacked by softly brushing nails. 

“Nononononohohoho VEHEehehex!” He pleads, scuffing the heels of his shoes into the floor in a half-baked bid for relief. “Fuhuhucks sahahake!” 

“That is utterly adorable,” Vax laughs, his own hand coming up to stroke deftly down Percy’s arm from wrist to armpit in a maddening pattern of soft touch. The strokes only elicit more half-bitten squeals and squeaks of protest, most noises swallowed up or blended into Percy’s laughter.

He knew he should feel embarrassed, his pride shattered into pieces from a few measly fingers and well-picked words to crack his defenses, but Percy couldn’t recall a time he’d last been in the middle of a play fight such as this. The sensations are foreign but not forgotten, too much and yet not enough at the same time. It was a conflicting state of escape or endure.

However, when Vax slipped a hand under his buttoned shirt to ghost gentle nails on his bare lower back, he was pretty sure his body got struck by lightning. 

“VAHAHAX! OHOHOhoho mihihy gohohod plehehehease! P-PLEHEhehehease!”” 

Vex and Vax pause in their movements and watch with awed amusement as Percy laughs himself mad from the briefest touch to his back, his full-bodied laughter quickly melting down into rich, honey-sweet giggles that shake his entire body. It didn’t seem real, that a sound so adorably childish could come from Percy’s mouth, and yet here he was, half curled on the ground, giggling up a storm. 

Vex and Vax share a fond, endeared smile and let go of Percy’s wrists, leaning away so he could have space to collect himself. The human wheezes through his tumbling giggles, his arms shifting to wrap around his middle as he slowly calms down. His eyes, which had been tightly closed, flutter open to show mirthful tears at the edges.

“F-Fuhucking hehehell,” he gasps, “I thohought I wahas gohohing to dihie.”

“Oh relax, we like you too much to kill you,” Vex snickers, offering her hand to Percy. She has to hold back a snort when he flinches mildly at her fingers, eyeing them distrustfully. “We’re done,” she promises.

After a suspicious look, Percy grasps her hand and allows her to tug him into a sitting position. One of his arms is still wrapped protectively around his stomach, his hand reaching far enough to rub that damn spot Vax had tickled for three seconds which caused him to fall apart. 

“Remind me to never piss you off,” Percy rasps, taking off his glasses to rub the tears in his eyes away.

Vax leans over to his supplies to snatch up his water skin, offering it to Percy who took it gratefully. “So,” Vax starts, watching Percy drink water like he hadn’t had it in years. “Soft touch and bad back, huh?”

Percy almost chokes. With a rough swallow, he recorks the water skin and clears his throat, stubbornly not looking at either of the twins. “Like I said, it’s been a long time. I didn’t think I still even was… well, you know.”

“What? Ticklish?’

Vex’s gentle tease makes Percy’s face burn for what felt like the millionth time that evening. He shoves his glasses back on his face despite the heat in his cheeks making them fog up mildly. The reaction makes the twins chuckle.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Percy dear,” Vex soothes, an arm wrapping around his shoulders and rubbing gently at the nape of his neck - tension knotting the area from hours of leaning over a workbench while inventing. Percy winced at the attention, both from the anticipation of another attack and the ache of his tense muscles. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Percy grumbles without much heat, sounding like a petulant kid. “My siblings always ganged up on me because of it.”

“You have a nice laugh, I can see why they would,” Vax hums, tucking his water skin back into his nearby cloak.

The surprised look on Percy’s face almost made Vex tackle him back to the floor and tickle him again just so he could hear how precious his laugh was. She held herself back though, he’d had enough for tonight anyway. He hadn’t been tickled in years, he’d need to be introduced back to the game slowly. Tonight was an excellent first lesson. 

“So, Percy’s ticklish then?”

The sudden voice made the trio jump and look up to the other side of the cave where the rest of Vox Machina were watching them with grins. Scanlan, who’d asked the question, chuckled at the human’s sudden flush. “Yeah no, we saw the whole thing, de Rolo. Don’t expect this to be the last time, that was cute as fuck.”

Grog chuckled deeply. “Very cute,” he agreed in that rumbling voice of his. Pike, who was sat atop his shoulder nodded enthusiastically in agreement. 

“Had no idea you could laugh like that, Perce,” she chirped, glancing at Keyleth who giggled softly. 

“It was quite sweet,” the Air Ashari tacked on.

Percy stared at the group of people he called family, his eyelid twitching slightly and cheeks flushed a rosy pink. His gloved hands come up to press over his face, knocking his head into his bent knees, wishing the floor would just cave in and murder him quickly. 

“Aww, I think we’re embarrassing him,” Vax cooed, his hand resting atop Percy’s head and gently ruffling his hair in a brotherly fashion. “It’s alright, Giggles, you know we do it out of love.”

“F’ck off and die,” came the muffled grumble buried into Percy’s hands.

The twins cackled, pleased that they not only thoroughly shattered Percy’s indifferent demeanor, but got him flustered beyond repair from simple, playful affection and loving words. They were gonna have fun with this new information. It was their right as a family to carry on the de Rolo tradition of making Percival Fredrickson de Rolo the Third laugh, they wouldn’t let Percy’s late siblings down on that front.

[macabr3-barbi3]

500 Followers Fic #1 🥳

Helloooooo everyone!

Welcome to our first fic for the 500 followers bonus:

(Banner by the lovely talented amazing @fraugwinska while I attempt to learn how to use Canva lol)

Tags: one bed only; frotting; Alastor-typical manipulation; ‘unrequited’ feelings

first attempt at RadioStatic, I hope you all enjoy!

📻📺📻📺📻📺📻

Coming into the room that Alastor had booked for the two of them on their way to some sort of antique convention the other man wanted to drag him to, Vox had solid proof that they were in Hell. Because really, how cliche could it get?

“Hmm,” Alastor muses beside him, a step in front and unable to see the warning messages that were flashing across Vox’s screen before he could get them under control as he looks at the king-sized bed that takes up nearly all of the miniscule room- no couch, hardly any space between the bed and the walls. “It would appear that the establishment has made a mistake! Let’s see if they can correct it, shall we?” Without waiting for a response, Alastor places a hand on his arm and drags him into the shadows, rematerializing in the Hotel Lobby- and fuck, Vox doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of that. “Good evening, my dear! It would seem that my reservation was made incorrectly- we were supposed to have two beds in our lodgings, but there appears to only be one.”

He throws an arm around Vox’s shoulder, drags him closer so he can feel the warmth of his chest through his suit. “As charming as my little picture box here is, I was not planning on sharing a bed with him. How can we rectify this?” The smile that he gives the young woman is wide and dangerous, sharp teeth glinting in the shitty light over the desk as he stares her down.

The desk attendant, to her credit, doesn’t cower. Either she simply doesn’t know who Alastor is to know that she should fear him, or she’s brave. Or stupid, which was basically the same thing. Rather than watching the actual threat in the room, her eyes dart over to Vox- whatever she notices, it makes her smile in a way that he doesn’t trust when she turns back to Alastor. “Let me see what I can do, sir.” She hits a few keys on the ancient computer that sits in front of her, scrolling before she huffs out a breath that blows her bangs out of her face. “My sincerest apologies, sir- I’m not sure how the reservation got messed up, but all of our other rooms are booked and the king is all we have. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience- let me adjust the room rate to a double as part of the compensation, and when my manager comes in tomorrow I’ll see what else we can do for you!”

The sound of radio feedback fills the room like a fog, screeching and harsh, and Alastor starts to change- his neck cracks to one side, the dial pupils coming to life and ticking menacingly at the attendant, and fuck, he’s about to bust the chandelier-

“Whoa, whoa, Al! Come on, she’s just doing her job- we can live with one bed for the night, right? It’s not ideal but we’ll manage it.” He has to stand a bit on his tiptoes to place his palm against Alastor’s shoulder, but the motion seems to calm him a little- he shrinks back down to his normal size, the shrieking feedback fading a bit when Alastor looks at him and acquiesces.

He turns back to the attendant, who still looks completely unphased. “I expect the room to be fully compensated,” he tells her, and she doesn’t even bat an eye. “And rest assured that I will be speaking with your manager in the morning personally. Lead the way!” He directs to Vox, and the young woman at the desk flutters her fingers in a wave at them with a small, satisfied smirk in place.

Back in the room he had tried to compromise, offered to sleep in the tub- fuck, he would sleep under the bed if he needed to, to avoid making Alastor uncomfortable- but the Radio Demon was having none of it. “No reason for either of us to be put out because the hotel made a mistake,” he had claimed, chipper and grinning as always despite the situation.

So twenty minutes later finds Vox in the bathroom, fresh out of the shower and nearly hyperventilating, overpowering the fans in his head trying not to think about being in the same bed as Alastor; he was failing miserably- all he could picture in his head was the long plane of hard, tan-furred skin and firm muscles that would shift and tense as he made himself comfortable. What if they accidentally touched? What if Vox rolled over in his sleep in the dead of night and clung to the other man like his body pillow? What if-

Fuck his afterlife, what if Alastor slept naked?

Even if that was normally the case there was no way he would do so with another person in the bed, Vox reasons with himself, splashing his neck with some cool water for some semblance of calm before he exits the bathroom- he’s only a little disappointed to know that he was correct when he spots Alastor already spread across the left side of the bed, red silk pajamas hanging delicately off his slender frame as his crimson eyes scanned the pages of a book he held in his hand. “That side is all yours,” he says, his voice low and sleepy, and Vox wishes he had thought to bring a thicker pair of pajama pants because how the fuck was he supposed to hide an erection in the silk ones he had on? He crosses the room as quickly as he can, settling onto the opposite side of the bed and still not looking at his friend as he tries to will the blood in his lower half back to his brain.

“I’m sorry if this is weird,” he mutters, and Alastor tuts at him before snapping his book closed; he can feel the weight of the other man’s eyes on his back even without looking at him. He’s always so aware where Alastor’s attention is, wishing desperately that it would only ever be directed at him.

“No need to apologize,” Alastor says, soft and sweet, and shit, Vox really needs to get under the covers and facing downward or something so his dick isn’t tenting the fucking comforter. “It was an error on the Hotel’s part, not ours. We can handle one night, old pal.” With a snap of his fingers the lights are out, the only illumination now from Vox’s screen against the wall before he slowly shifts to slip under the covers, turning down his brightness in a last ditch attempt to make sure that Alastor doesn’t catch sight of the erection he’s sporting just at his voice. “We have lots to accomplish tomorrow- sleep well, Vox.”

It was truly remarkable, how Alastor could fall asleep within minutes, his breath evening out and coming in steady movements of his chest next to Vox. It took him a few minutes longer, fidgeting in the darkness and trying to will his body to behave, making sure to keep plenty of space between them. This is fine, he told himself. A bed this big has plenty of room for two people- there’s no reason to be afraid you’ll suddenly find yourself across the span of the bed by morning. He didn’t shift around much in his sleep, usually beginning and ending his nights in the same position- having a flat head didn’t leave him room for a lot of sleeping positions besides ‘facing up’ and ‘facing down.’ As long as they both kept to their own sides of the bed everything would be fine.

He stays up a good while longer, just listening to Alastor breathe and reminding his unruly limbs to keep his hands to his damn self. When he’s convinced, hours later, that he’s not going to accidentally drift towards Alastor like a giant magnet, he decides to call it a night, calming his anxiety by making sure the steady sound of Alastor’s breathing matches his own as he slips into uneasy sleep.

His dreams aren’t anything out of the ordinary- he dreams of his friend, sitting at the head of the bed and beckoning him closer as he slides a hand down his bare torso to cup himself. His eyes slip closed, a rough moan tumbling from his lips and Vox physically cannot bring himself to look away from the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

The sound repeats, and this time Vox is stirred enough from his sleep to realize that it had not, in fact, come from the depths of his mind, but from mere centimeters away from his screen’s audio ports.

He hadn’t moved during the night. Alastor, however, had crossed the expanse of the bed in the hours between them falling asleep; one arm propped beneath his head, and the other was draped dangerously low across Vox’s abdomen. He was practically on top of him, his chest making full contact with Vox’s arm and the left side of his body, his face resting softly on the curve of Vox’s shoulder just under the corner of his screen.

Vox tried to shift slightly away, to preserve his friend’s dignity. Alastor was a profoundly private man, if he woke up knowing that Vox had seen him like this- had unconsciously touched him like this- it seemed like the absolute minimum would be the ending of their friendship. The movement made Alastor mumble in his sleep, clutching Vox even tighter, his hips repositioning in such a way that Vox could now feel the outline of his hard cock against his thigh.

Vox freezes, something in his head popping loudly. When he risks a sideways glance, Alastor’s face is contorted, the hand draped across his stomach dropping a few inches and grasping blindly at the fabric of Vox’s pajama pants before releasing, a shaky breath ghosting across his face and fogging his screen slightly.

This was so, so wrong- he couldn’t just lay here and let his friend essentially grope him in his sleep!

… Could he?

No, Alastor would see that as a huge violation. He would be horrified when he woke up, that Vox hadn’t stopped him or moved away while Alastor was having a vulnerable moment. He had never shown any sort of interest in anything sexual before, this was likely just some biological function that Al couldn’t help, might not even be aware of. He would feel betrayed and never trust Vox again, and that’s the thought that has him slowly trying to slide out of the bed, feet first.

Another sleepy moan, this one accompanied by the light push of Alastor’s hips into his side once again, and Vox panics. He tries to roll out of the demon’s lazy embrace, only to make a couple startling realizations.

The first is that Alastor is a bed hog- the single half rotation that Vox does to escape puts him not just at the edge of the bed, but over it. He had been incorrect in assuming that he hadn’t moved in the night; in his journey across the mattress Alastor had managed to shove Vox to the side as well, pushing him to the very edge of the bed.

The second realization is that Alastor’s arm draped across his waist had a much tighter grip than anticipated. Or maybe it was just an unfortunate angle. Or maybe this exact moment was Vox’s real Hell, and everything up until now had been a test to see what the most god awful situation would be for him to be subjected to, and now he was going to be forced to live in this moment for eternity. Whatever it was, when Vox rolled, he took Alastor with him.

He narrowly avoided bashing his screen off the nightstand, and there was a yelp of shock as Alastor awoke to the impact of them both hitting the narrow stretch of floor beside the bed. Vox tried to wiggle out from under him, succeeding only in smacking his head off the wall as he tried to free himself. Alastor looked confused, red eyes still seemingly bleary with sleep as he blinked rapidly to try and get a sense of what was happening. Tangled in the sheets as he was, Vox wasn’t able to separate their bodies; Alastor’s single-handed grip on his hip tightening when Vox- again- manages to slam his head into the wall. He swears, only distantly aware and thankful that there are no jagged cracks splintering his face, and in the next moment he’s pinned uncomfortably below Alastor between the wall and the bed, his friend’s eyes dark.

“Would you care to explain yourself, Vox?”

“Sorry,” he gasps out, his heart pounding out of his chest looking up at Alastor. Fuck, he was sexy. His hair was mussed from sleep, little red lines marking his face from the creases of the pillow, his silk pajama bottoms had ridden down slightly in his sleep and when Vox looked down he could see the deep V of Alastor’s pelvis above where their hips were pressed even more fully into Vox’s in his efforts to stop him from moving. Their erections are slotted alongside one another, his own apparently not realizing yet that this was a fucking disaster, Alastor’s still lost in the throes of whatever dream he had been having. “Sorry,” he repeats stupidly.

Alastor watched him carefully. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t explain why you have dragged me from the comforts of the bed to the floor with you,” he says, his voice a soft hiss in the limited space between them, and when Vox’s cock jerks at the sound he prays to any deity or being that can hear him that Alastor didn’t feel it.

“I didn’t mean to,” he defends, clenching his eyes shut and willing his hard-on away. “You were over on my side of the bed and fucking- grabbed me, I was trying to get out of your way, you just kinda… came with me.”

“Oh Vox,” Alastor mutters, sounding frustrated, and just as Vox is silently saying his prayers- since Alastor was going to fucking kill him- he’s choking on his vocal processors when Alastor presses down, a slow grind of his hips that has their cocks sliding together with a whisper of silk between them. “Funnily enough, I haven’t ‘come’ at all. And after I went to all the trouble of creating the perfect opportunity for you, even.”

“What do you-”

With a snap of his fingers, they’re deposited on the bed, the feeling not dissimilar to the sensation of ‘falling’ from a dream as Alastor properly straddles his legs, his hands spreading across the planes of Vox’s chest, sharp claws careful as they trail down his abdomen and tease at the waistband of his pajama pants. “Al, what are you doing?” Vox asks incredulously, afraid to even blink in case this is some high-definition fantasy he’s concocted. He watches wide-eyed as Alastor uses a single hand to undo the buttons of his own shirt, the soft fur of his chest exposed bit by bit, and Vox feels the drool leaking from his slack jaw, can’t bring himself to care as it pools on his chest.

“I hadn’t realized you were such a gentleman,” Alastor says, almost like he’s irritated by the fact. “Here I was, presenting a prime chance for you to confess your silly little feelings or make some sort of move, bribing the young woman at the front desk to keep us in close quarters, and you offer to sleep in the tub. Honestly, Vox, what am I going to do with you?”

“You fucking- you planned this?” He meets Alastor’s eyes while he pulls at the waistband of Vox’s pants, letting his hand dip inside, and he can’t help the harsh groan that escapes him at the feeling of Alastor’s calloused fingers against the sensitive skin of his cock as he releases him from the confines of fabric.

There’s a hum of static. “Of course I did,” he agrees. “You think I would have given up in the lobby so easily had I been truly distraught? An actual error like that in any other situation and I would have devoured the entire staff of the place.”

What the fuck is wrong with him, that his dick twitches at that? And Alastor notices, of course he does, and tightens his grip, starting a soft, steady stroke over Vox’s heated flesh. “Ah, you’ve always been more forgiving of my more sadistic tendencies- one of the many reasons I prefer your company to others.” He lets his other hand trace patterns over Vox’s chest while he tugs at his cock, the pressure of his hand fucking perfect and slick from the precum that Vox has no control over, leaking from his tip and making everything easier for Alastor. He can already feel the tightening of his balls as a warning, his orgasm approaching too quickly with Alastor’s ministrations even before the beautiful bastard opened his mouth and started talking. “Tell me, friend, would acting on your feelings have been easier if I had come to bed wearing the blood of those that inconvenienced us?”

Vox growls low in his throat, the tension in his abdomen coiling at the thought, his entire body taut, muscles clenched under Alastor. “Fuck, Al, I’m not- I was trying to be considerate, you fucking prick-” His voice simply stops working when Alastor shifts his hips down a bit, shoving at his own waistband to free his straining erection- which is fucking perfect and delicious and Vox wants everything- before bringing it into alignment with Vox’s. His hand wraps around both of them and gives a firm stroke, silky skin sliding together and the friction is too fucking good, hot and hard lengths pressing against one another in Alastor’s hold.

When the other man furrows his eyebrow in concentration and fucking spits into his own hand, the wetness of it warm from his mouth before he slicks it down both of their cocks, Vox’s muscles tense, his orgasm a hair trigger away- he tries to warn him.“W̧̤̤͇̣̥͂͐a͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛, s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅh̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛,- oh fuck, Alastor, I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟'m̰̰̹͚̙̂ͦ͗͠ g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥn̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥa͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎-”

“Don’t you dare,” Alastor breathes, and the fingers that have been warm and curious over his skin disappear, vanishing into the dark space between their bodies- and then there’s a careful hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly, not so much pulling Vox back from the edge as he was dangling him over a cliff with a hand fisted in his shirt. “You’ll come with me or not at all.”

The way he says that doesn’t fucking help, but Vox figures his only option now is too get Alastor right on that edge with him. He finally wills his hands into doing something besides clinging to the mattress for dear afterlife, shoves a hand into Alastor’s hair and drags him down to his face so he can kiss him, lick into his mouth while his other hand explores as the deer’s had- over the curve of his spine, the dip of his hip, finally gripping tightly at the plush flesh of his ass and pulling down, trying to get as close to him as possible. The angle makes Alastor’s knuckles push uncomfortably into Vox’s stomach as he tries to keep his hands moving, the faint ache of it helping to distract him from the pleasure that burns through his body, prolonging the moment that he still wasn’t positive wasn’t just a dream.

When his fingers brush against the tiny antlers that grow out of Alastor’s head, he gives a full body tremble and moans into Vox’s mouth, his hips stuttering hard where they’re pressed together, the lower hand releasing its grip on Vox’s sack to dig his claws into his thighs, piercing through the fabric and leaving pinpoints of blood in his wake.

“Fuck, Al,” Vox mumbles, and at the sound of his name Alastor groans, pulling away from Vox’s mouth and trailing sharp little bites and kisses along his collarbone. His screen is flickering, error messages about a heat warning that he dismisses in favor of focussing on here and now, Alastor fisting their cocks together and grinding down into him, leaving marks on his skin that he can touch in the morning, evidence that Alastor had wanted him, had fucking planned for something like this to happen when he booked the hotel. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, I̡̨͙͙̪̹̾͟ n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓- please, Al, come on, come with me-”

Alastor comes up from his perusal of Vox’s skin, eyes half lidded and dark, his tone snarky like he wasn’t moment away from ruining both their sets of silk pajamas. “If you in- insist.”

(Vox considers it to be a personal failure that he can even speak through the pleasure; maybe next time- fuck, he hopes there’s a next time- he can really take his time, devolve Alastor into a mess of overstimulated nerve endings and shivering gasps as he brings him to orgasm over and over and over again; licking down the length of his body, sucking his cock, turning him over and using his tongue-

For now though he relishes in the fact that Alastor- Radio Demon, smooth talking charmer, ever reliant and proud of his control over his voice- stutters on his words.)

It takes a moment longer, another couple of thrusts and strokes over where they’re pressed together and Alastor is coming- a hoarse cry of Vox’s name on his lips as he spills across his fingers, his release making everything hot and slick around Vox’s cock as well. He wills his body to slow long enough to see the fucking vision of Alastor coming first, the way that his skin flushes down to where the light fur of his chest starts, how his eyes clench shut and lashes flutter as he tries to breathe through the way his body tenses and releases, hips still grinding down rhythmically against Vox’s.

He’s glad he takes that time to watch, because before Alastor has even had a chance to catch his breath Vox comes so hard the whole hotel blinks offline, the room and the faint light of the hallway going dark like someone has flicked a switch as everything goes black.

When Vox powers back on, Alastor is standing by the door to the hotel room with it cracked- “To be fair, my dear, I did tell you that a power outage was possible,” he’s saying, and when Vox properly sits up to peek through the door he sees the desk attendant from earlier. “It’s hardly my fault that you failed to plan accordingly when I gave you all the information you needed to be successful.”

He’s wearing different pants, Vox realizes, and his shirt has been done up properly again which probably means they wouldn’t be continuing tonight. He allows himself a moment longer to appreciate the lean frame of Alastor’s body, and when he catches sight of the fucking tail that peeks out over his waistband, partially hidden by the shirt, he can’t help the wide grin that takes over his face.

“You said it might be ‘a minor short-circuit,’ not taking out the whole damn block-” She catches his eye under Alastor’s arm and he feels his face heat, screen tinting pink when she shoots him a wink, sighing and looking back at Alastor. “God, you’re lucky I’m a sucker for this trope. Whatever, I guess I’ll handle the manager when he asks. You two have fun,” she calls with a cheeky wave to Vox, and when Alastor closes the door and shadow-shifts back into the bed beside him, his face is irritated.

“So,” Vox begins, and Alastor claps a hand across his screen- which does nothing to stop his words, instead letting them come from the speakers in the back of his head. “You planned this whole thing thinking that, what- I was going to be so overcome with lust for you that I would jump your bones because we happened to be sleeping in closer proximity than normal?”

The red tint returns to Alastor’s skin, pointedly looking away from him as a blush spreads across his face. “I thought that if you awoke to find me clinging to you in my sleep you would realize that your feelings are not unreciprocated,” he sniffs indignantly. “I didn’t know you would be so noble about it all and panic-trip out of the bed.”

The smile Vox wears is both fond and irritated. “Fucking idiot,” he says with no malice. “Satan forbid I try to be a decent person because I didn’t know you were interested. In the future- I guess if you want to do, you know, this,” he adds, gesturing between their bodies, “just be clear about it? You don’t have to plot with some desk clerk to trick me into sharing a bed with you in some half assed attempt to get me to confess.”

“Is that so? Well, then…” He leans in close to Vox, one hand resting on his thigh and the other cupped softly around the back of his neck, lips trailing against the outer casing of his screen as he whispers, thoughts and ideas and promises that have him hard and aching in his pajama pants (he notes that Alastor hadn’t bothered to fix his) in mere minutes, arousal sitting hot and heavy in his gut. When Alastor finally shows mercy and relents, retreating to his own side of the bed, his smile is triumphant, dangerous, sexy as all Hell. “Is that clear enough for you, my dear?”

“Crystal clear,” Vox agrees, and pulls Alastor back across the expanse of the mattress to meet his lips again.

So while I was going over the analytics for the poll, I realized that I could see what characters were voted for together in addition to the general total for a character; a few pairings were requested more frequently than others, so I decided to work with the top three pairings first 😉

The most requested pairing overall was Alastor/Vox (7 votes together), so here is my first ever attempt at RadioStatic with the most popular trope, which was ‘only one bed.’ A little fluff, a little smut, a lot of self indulgent writing bc this is personally my favorite trope as well 🤣

Next fic for the follower bonus will be a Valentino/Reader (6 votes together) followed by Vox/Reader (5 votes)

THANKS AGAIN TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED ON THE POLL AND WHO FOLLOWS ME, ALL OF YOU ARE WONDERFUL AND GREAT 💙❤️

[ravenquingvax]

Thinking about a world where Vax'ildan accidentally made a deal with Orthax instead of The Matron of Ravens, leading to his steady corruption.

Vax is better at hiding his possession initially than Percy was on the account that Vax's whole job is pretending to not exist so he can do things people don't usually approve of without being caught doing it.

Maybe he doesn't even realise what he's done at first, he dons the armour fully believing that it's the Matron he's sworn himself to and life goes on otherwise unchanged by this moment, ignoring the extra white in Vex'ahlia's hair and the anger Vax now harbours towards Percy, which is honestly a relief giving how they still have dragons to kill.

Then, one night, he's assaulted with a horrifying nightmare where he relives every awful thing that's happened to him.

He can feel the pain, the fear, the anger, and the grief all over again as if it was real...

Then it changes, and he's surrounded by the corpses of everyone has ever loved;

His mother, both of his sisters, Devanna, Thorn, Vox Machina, Cassandra, Gilmore, Allura, Kima, Jarett... Everyone.

Twisted, bloodied, bruised...

Glaring at him in their death...

Torn apart... Viscera covering everything including Vax.

And he's terrified, screaming for an out - he doesn't want this, why is this happening, somebody make it stop!

Then there's smoke and sulfur.

His feathered mantle is set alight and it burns, ash falling all around Vax as he crumbles.

Then there's a voice, a voice that's familiar but not.

"What would you give?"

He doesn't know what to say, what would he even recieve?

"In exchange for their safety, what would you sacrifice?"

And now he is at a loss.

Vax'ildan knows better than to make deals with a demon, or with anyone in a position of authority or power over you.

But he's scared, his sister died and they're all going to die and none of it is worth it but everything is worth them-

He's so tired. He's so, so tired.

He asks what it would have?

He sees the jagged orange glass grin in a flash of light, the chuckle dark and ominous.

Really, it's a foolish question.

Vax'ildan knows better.

You can't outsmart a demon, especially one so scorned.

(He'll relearn that lesson again some other night, atop a tower with a different demon who wears the face of a man Vax loves ever so dearly.)

But he's desperate, Vox Machina need all the help they can get and, really...

How is this any different to him selling himself to The Clasp to protect Vex in his youth?

(It's so different.)

"Keep everyone safe, never let any of them die, and when the dragons are dead, I will serve you so long as you leave them alone and free from harm."

Well, how could Orthax refuse?

A skilled murderer offering his services to a demon whose bloodlust is stronger than any man's will to remain himself?

And for something so easy?

Orthax seals the deal with a cackle, another flash of teeth that look rotten and broken, and a final message for Vax.

"A soul like yours, mine for such a small price... Like taking candy from a babe, or a babe from an unsuspecting mother."

Waking up, Vax would feel different - something has changed in his heart, and he feels much heavier and warmer than he usually does.

He smells sulfur in his more violent episodes of anger, which occur all the more frequently now, and he tastes iron in his mouth at random.

"It's the trauma, give him time."

"You'd be pissed too after holding your dead twin sister in your arms, even if briefly!"

"It's the dragons. We're all scared and angry. He's fine."

"He's not had a break in over a month, let him get it out."

Vax almost starts buying it himself, the endless excuses others give for his behaviour.

What he wouldn't give to have never made that stupid deal.

But, to Orthax's credit, Vox Machina and friends do come by an extraordinary bought of luck ever since that day.

Yet, Vax suffers for it.

He grows more distant than ever before, both thanks to his unstable emotions making people anxious around him and his guilt making him stay away.

He kills with more violence than Vox Machina have ever seen the rogue use before.

He even snaps at and bickers with those he'd normally never dare raise his voice to...

And he starts drinking more.

But somehow, it's only after Grog accidentally cuts Vax with Cravenedge and the sword shrieks in response that Vox Machina finally realises that something is seriously wrong with Vax'ildan right now.

(That and that they really must do better to look after each other if they've missed two of their members being taken over by insidious forces.)

Vax tries to run away, scared that this will void his deal, but how can he abandon Vex when she stops him in tears?...

They have a long talk, Vax and Grog both restrained with magic should anything happen, and Pike does an aura check on both men out of concern.

Grog isn't too far gone, but the effects of Sylas's sword are still clear. With Vax, however...

His once bright soul is almost entirely smothered by the black smoke that had eagerly tried to consume Percy's soul not so long ago back in Whitestone.

It's terrifying to see, especially when prior to this Vax's soul had been the brightest out of anyone else's in Vox Machina.

Vax, angry and scared, begs for them to let him go - he loves them, he wants no harm to befall them, he'll be fine.

They can't, though.

It's torture seeing Vax like this, but they're at a loss.

Orthax, pissed at them for intervening again, tries to take over control of Vax's body.

On the outside, it looks like Vax is having a seizure - his eyes roll back as he gasps in pain, his body starting to spasm.

The smoke pours out of his mouth and nose angrily, Vax choking on it and crying.

They force his body into the recovery position, watching in utter horror and fear for Vax.

When Vax coughs up blood, they all jump forth in alarm.

Then Pike casts something, so hot and bright and golden, and it punches Vax in the chest.

With a wail of agony, he falls still and quiet at last as the smoke hisses and trickles away.

They all surround Vax, trying to see if he's okay... But when he wakes up, Vax is confused.

He doesn't know where he is or what is going on. He's scared.

Vex hugs him close, kissing his forehead and telling him it's okay now - they're safe.

But when he responds with "Who are these people, Momma?", it leaves everyone in shock - Vax doesn't recognise them and thinks Vex is his deceased mother rather than his twin sister, seemingly thinking he is a child again.

Pike, having exhausted her magic, can't do anything about it at the moment and everyone is so fucking tired now.

They go to bed anxious, Grog nolonger bound by magic but forcibly removed from his sword, and they all surround poor Vax to shield him in his current, very vulnerable state.

By morning, the rogue has managed to slip away.

They all panic - had Orthax come back for him already!?

But no, he had innocently walked off looking for "Vexxy" because he can't find her.

It's heartbreaking, Vex torn up about Vax mistaking her for their mother and being worried about 'being unable to find her'.

Pike checks his aura first, happy to note the smoke is gone but worried seeing how much dimmer Vax's soul is now, before she casts Greater Restoration on the man.

Vax jerks in surprise as his mind is brought back up to the present, the half-elf starting to remember all that's happened.

Vox Machina comfort him at first as he finds himself again, but once he's relaxed they immediately barrage him with questions and "what were you thinking!?"s and "you idiot!"s

It's honestly really nice to Vax, his mind finally clear again, but once everyone gets it out of their system he answers them;

"He broke me. He came to me in a nightmare and he broke me with visions of awful things... I was scared, I just wanted it all to stop... I just wanted to protect all of you..."

Percy is immediately very empathetic hearing this, he's the only one who can truly understand what happened

the others are horrified

"I was so tired and scared... I essentially told him that he could do whatever with me if he protects all of you until we kill the last of the dragons..."

and, oh, how it makes Keyleth cry to see Vax curl in on himself and as speaks in such a soft, defeated voice...

She hugs him, tells him that any of them would have done the same in his situation.

But Pike remains firm - "Did you know? Back in the tomb?"

Vax explains that, no, he didn't know it was Orthax for a bit.

He had genuinely thought that the Matron had heard his pleas and had been kind enough to return Vex without taking immediate payment - had wondered if The Matron had been merely biding her time.

And when the nightmare happened, Vax had been in no state to identify the demon - it was only as he made the deal that he truly recognised them.

By that point, it was too late.

He admits that he had stopped caring about himself entirely...

What was another claim on him if his loved ones were safe?

Vex is understandably upset hearing her brother say this, he means the world to her.

If she lost him...

It's Scanlan who asks what it was Orthax had shown Vax exactly - "All of you, dead."

Dead by his own hand? He doesn't know. But they had been brutalised and he was sat there in the gore of it all.

None of them can blame him for making the deal he made after hearing that description.

In fact, when Vax is unable to look at any of them and hugs himself, all they want to do is hurt everyone who has ever hurt him to the point of this.

They also cast Greater Restoration on Grog and destroy Cravenedge, but Vax isn't left alone for a second.

Keyleth hangs off one of his arms as Vex holds his free hand, Scanlan and Percy flanking his back and front.

They're not letting the rogue out of their sight for a while.

He doesn't blame them, but it's pretty overwhelming for Vax.

Though he understands their concerns and feels guilty, he really doesn't enjoy being confined like this...

But when an angry and vessel-less Orthax attacks them not long later, he is thankful for all of them.

He almost lost himself entirely to this monstrosity from the Hells... A truly scary thought.

That his loved ones love him no less for it is a miracle.

And if anything, he thinks he understands Percy now.

[collin-thegreat]

Ren Zotto NSFW headcanons

mature themes 18+ under the cut, MINORS🔞DO NOT INTERACT ageless and blank blogs will be blocked

A/n- I love this boy so this is much longer than any of my headcanons for any character, be sure to like and reblog if you like it but be sure to give me credit by tagging me this goes for any of my works.

mostly NSFW stuff but toward the end, it gets fluffy kinda

warnings- breeding kink, alien features/anatomy (what I see him having) fem reader, fem reader anatomy, somnophilia, dacryphilia, body worship (fem reader receiving), cockwarming, use of petnames such as "dove", "darling", "baby girl", "baby", "pretty boy", and more, oral (receiving and giving), marking such as biting, size imbalance kink, facesitting

General head canons

he is sweet but at times hard-dom

a service-dom as well

has a breeding kink (I can see it)

he uses his alien features to his advantage

pull on his horns and he goes feral especially when fucking you Man can't help but groan

he has a long forked tongue (ughh)

eating out your cunt is his favorite thing to do

as well as his baby giving him head since you struggle so much cuz his dick is much bigger than a human's

he's not shy about expressing how he feels through moaning, grunting, and praising you

Man loves seeing you cry from his size it gets him riled up

fucking you while you sleep or to sleep is another thing he loves doing

pet names are common between you two even in public

very much into PDA, holding hands is a must while in public

favorite positions and places to fuck

69 he loves having you sit on his face as you suck him off

mating press the power imbalance as well as the size difference is what he likes about it (bonus: he thinks it's one of the best positions for breeding his girl)

the shower is the best place in his opinion

the car (idk why but I so see him fucking in the backseat of his car)

doggy he loves seeing your ass jiggle with every thrust he makes

cowgirl and reverse cowgirl he likes the fact that you think you're in control but he is

full Nelson (don't think I need to explain)

fucking you against the wall

the little things he does that are a turn-on and make you feel special

he always has a hand on your lower back when walking, this always makes you a little blushy

when you two are sitting at his desk while he's streaming he always has his hand on your thigh as you are on his lap

he always asks for consent before doing anything to you that's sexual

he tends to wear your bracelets and some of your clothes

he teases you quietly by whispering what he wants to do to you

smacks your ass when you're wearing a skirt or dress

when he measures his hands to yours and then intertwines his fingers with yours

little things you do that turn him on and make him feel loved

you grab his hand when you two are in a crowd

wearing his clothes mostly his sweats, boxers(these are so fucking comfy), and hoodies

as well as wearing his merch

enjoys resting his head on your lap so you can play with his hair

he thinks it's cute that you like to wear matching clothes

you grabbing his hand during sex and squeezing

you clawing into his back during sex as well

you showing off the hickeys he left on your neck the night before by not covering them up

pulling him to you by his belt hook and belt he doesn't know why but this really gets him going

you singing with him makes his heart swell

-------------------.・゜-: ✧☾☽✧ :-゜・.---------------------

another A/n- please enjoy this very long Ren NSFW headcanons, I finished this in economics it's always economics and journalism when I finish drafts which is sad, the next character from nijisanji will most likely be Vanta or Vox idk I haven't decided.

thank you @cryingaboutit1514 for helping me with what type of headcanons to write (they sent me a post that helped a lot)

[radiomurdeer]

Starter for @xxx-angeldust-xxx

The sun, or what passed for it in Hell, had long since set, letting the shadows lengthen and eat away at every corner. Though dimmed, the light in the lobby of the hotel was still on, a sign of Charlie’s ever-present hope that someone may show up in the wee hours of the day. And a sign for their wayward resident that someone was waiting up for him. Often the self-imposed task fell to Charlie. Worry ate at her, mind conjuring one improbable scenario after another until Vaggie finally dragged her off to bed after volunteering Alastor of all people to wait up for Angel Dust. Ridiculous all around, really, when that was what Husk was for. The man had passed out some time ago, however, leaving Alastor alone to sit comfortably on one of the chairs in the parlor. It was less bothersome than he’d made it seem when Vaggie told him to wait up for Angel Dust. Oh he’d hemmed and hawed just because he loved riling her up. Had he really minded he’d have simply left them to their own devices while she screamed at shadows. Instead he was here, pondering his next steps. Sleep often eluded him anyway so the locale didn’t much matter. For now he was taking the solitude to plan his next broadcast. Toying with Vox was as fun as ever, but he’d need to do more than just that if only for appearances. Charlie would probably dislike it but for someone born here she certainly didn’t understand how to to play the Game in the slightest. 

Any further planning was put on hold at the sound of the hotel door opening. There was only one guess as to who had finally crawled in at a truly ungodly hour. If Angel Dust was even attempting to be quiet it was difficult to tell. Or maybe Alastor was simply too paranoid and giving him less credit than he deserved. There was a soft hum of a radio changing frequencies as he dissolved into shadow, reforming right next to Angel Dust in his habitual violation and disregard of personal space. 

“Well well! Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” his tone was his usual manic cheer, belying the sarcasm of his words. It wasn’t as if it mattered to him if Angel Dust showed up or not. Charlie may hope, but there was no hiding that Angel Dust was just using the hotel as a safe place to stay. The price of rent was just the low low cost of his dignity and group therapy. “Oh, and using again? Just what will Charlie say?”

He tsked playfully, splaying a hand across where his heart should be as though clutching at pearls. A hungry cat toying with its prey. Normally he didn’t get Angel Dust alone like this, there was usually a buffer of another person. Charlie usually, but even Husk knew how to handle his boss’s games and redirect Alastor’s attention. Sometimes Alastor even let him! But for now it was just the two of them, and Alastor was bored. 

[palettepainter]

I've had Loser, Baby in my head for days now. So what's been your favorite song from Hazbin so far?

Credit where credits due - even if the writing could use improvement in parts - the songs fucking slap

I'd say I'm torn between Loser Baby (Keith David's singing is honey to my ears, I hope he's having fun with this series! Like seriously anybody who follows me if you're not big on Hazbin, which I'm not as crazy over it as I was, the voice acting and singing is probably my favourite thing about this entire series) and Stayed Gone (Literally didn't give a shit about Vox before this song and then Christian Borle rolled up and said bet)

If I were to recommend this show to anybody I would do it PURELY because the singing and voice acting is that good. The songs are catchy as hell and are way more impressive then I thought they where gunna be. Hazbin may need some work in parts but man did they nail the songs

[askoverlordvox]

Rue poofs in front of you in a cloud of green smoke. “Screen man! I humbly request thy assistance in setting up a ‘credit card.’ This realm doth make the process most perplexing!” She hands you her phone, which is opened to a scammy website offering free gift cards. The phone is hot to the touch, no doubt infected with several viruses.

@ruethefae

... Okay. I'll admit. This is on me.

Vox puts a yellow quarantine label on the phone and sets it aside, producing a new one from his coat pocket and tapping the screen.

Luckily, the Sinfire comes with automatic back-up, so I can easily restore the device without all the malicious software that... got introduced.

Now, Rue, I suppose I should've given you some of the previous editions of our guidebook to Hell and beyond; most mortal souls entering Hell nowadays at least know how a lot of this stuff works. Again, I should've seen this coming, so I apologize.

But it's nothing we can't fix! So, here's some tips: first, you know how deals work, right? Something of value in exchange for something else? Hell works on that principle, too; if something's asking you for personal information, it's because they're trying to get something from you. Unless they clearly state why they need it and what it will be used for, don't give them anything. Second, credit cards are a good way to get into debt. They're basically you promising to pay someone else back, but not saying how much you'll be paying back. You'll for sure have to pay back at least what you owed initially; sometimes, you may pay back twice what you owed! They can be very tricky. Third, ask someone on my payroll if you have questions. We have help desk personnel and, as long as you don't threaten them, they're rather pleasant people.

Vox reaches into his vest pocket and pulled out a shiny, metallic blue card.

So, to help you understand how the currency of Hell works, I'm going to help you out a bit. This card is like a credit card but it's called a debit card. A credit card spends money you don't actually have; a debit card spends money you do have. Click this little button here on your phone and you can see your balance. Don't spend more than you have in the account and it replenishes every six days. Now, going back to earlier, I'm giving you something of value, so what am I getting in return? Frankly, we thought the latest security update on the Sinfire was foolproof and you somehow broke the damn thing in under 24 hours. I'm impressed! If you ever feel like taking a swing at working a job, I'd love to see what else you could do for the Q&A department. Secondly, this is a debit card, not credit, so you won't be able to go into debt; it will decline- and, therefore, stop your purchase- if you try to spend more money than you have. Third, if you need more money or are confused about how it all works, just ask.

[roppongi-division]

Zakari's Thoughts on Kobe Division

Ren Nakashima

"Wow, Ren "Vox" Nakashima, himself. Hard to believe a guy that's only 20 is known all around Japan as a celebrity. I mean, I'm pretty popular, myself. But compared to this guy... I'm a crumb while he's a whole cake! Don't take that as a sign that I'm envious of the guy or anything! I mean, it's only cause of my dad's awesome music-making and producing skills that he's the success that he is. ...But still, even I have to give credit where credit is due. The guy is a genius. A musical genius, anyway."

Max Soukoku

"I like hanging out with Max! I know everyone at school likes to give him a wide berth cause he's so scary, but really, once you get to know the guy, he's pretty cool! I mean, I wouldn't go to him if you're looking for conversation or anything, but that's fine! I do most of the talking between us, anyway! Plus, believe it or not, he's actually on good terms with Sumire in Shinagawa! When we have time, we'll often go over there and watch her participate in robot fights, which she always wins, by the way!"

"Like I said, I know people give him a wide berth, but he's only scary to people who have nothing else better to do than bother him for no reason. Let me tell you, I saw him deal with a bunch of guys who were picking on him. ...I'll say this: this kid, he is one guy you definitely don't want to meet in a dark alley!"

Kaiji Sano

"...You know, I'm a bit jealous of Kaiji. Not because of his fame or anything, but because he can pull off the feminine look so much easier than I can! I've tried watching some of his moves on PROFILE and T.V. to pull off what he does on stage and I keep failing! I've even tried dressing up like him! I took some of my mom's clothes and make-up to wear, but I still fell flat on my face! To make matters worse, both my parents came to see what I was doing and they saw me... ya' know. Boy, that was embarrassing. I couldn't face either of them for a week before my mom gently decided to broach the topic. God, that was humiliating!"

Lovesick

"Man, all these guys are younger than me, and they're already well-known across Japan. ...Well, maybe not Max, but I don't think he cares for the fame like Ren and Kaiji. ...It actually begs the question, why did he join their team anyway? Actually, why are any of these guys in the D.R.B.? It doesn't sound like Chuohku forced them. And my dad says that Ren joined because of someone in one of the other teams, which doesn't tell you much. I mean, do you have any idea how many teams are in this tournament?"

"...Oh well. Whatever the reason is, I wish Max and them the best of luck, though I'm sure they won't need it. ...Well, at least not until they face my parents and I!"

[quillyfied]

Hellaverse Theories: Hazbin Hotel S1E2

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse!

Here we are at Hazbin Hotel, s1e2 (and it's much shorter than s1e1, thank goodness):

Sir Pentious. My darling. My dearest. What a dweeb. What a maroon. This isn’t a theory, it’s a fact: I love him.

Okay, here we go, the ultra-dangerous Vees that I think get underestimated in their own ways. For a start, they’re a collective of three Overlords actively working together, which isn’t something the show seems to suggest is normal for Overlords up until this point. It’s also interesting to me that Valentino is the most universally hated, to the point where certain folks woobify Vox and Velvette into being his unfortunate victims, but. I think that’s giving Val way too much credit, and certainly not giving Velvette and Vox enough. As the tweet that Viv cackled over goes, Val is Karen to the other two’s Regina and Gretchen. And I don’t know who takes Regina George’s spot, Vox or Velvette, and I’m sure they’d fight pretty viciously for it, but all three of them are terrible and especially terrible together. How calculating and smart Velvette is will be expounded on more later, but Vox can literally hypnotize thousands of people when given the right tools, and I know we collectively aren’t ignoring how horrific the television industry can be in real life. So imagine that culture in Hell, run by a guy with a psychosexual obsession with a deer man who rejected him and a tempestuous situationship with Valentino of all people. Yikes.

Anyway, to the more important bit: the first hint that sinners can be killed and regenerated. Valentino is wrecking Velvette’s department and tore up her best model. And the show can’t wait for that unlucky bitch to pull herself back together. Could be a glib reference to how the model is useless to Velvette double-dead and how dare she die on the job. Could be more literal and sinners can regenerate from deaths that aren’t inflicted by angelic steel, it just takes some time depending on the method of death. This is too VAGUE, I need CONCRETE EXAMPLES AND REFERENCES.

Like okay to get back to the “all the Vees are terrible” argument, VELVETTE LITERALLY SELLS A DATE RAPE DRUG DISTILLED FROM VALENTINO’S VENOM. VOX TAKES ADVANTAGE OF HELL’S PANIC OVER THE EXTERMINATION TO SELL HIS BRAND AND THEN OFFERS TO FETCH A GROUP OF UNLUCKY EMPLOYEES FOR VAL TO SHOOT. Granted, his orders to his assistant seem promising, with wanting to get in touch with Carmilla about actually developing angelic security, but there appears to be no follow-through and Vox is more than happy to sit safely in his tower and peep on everyone else while the Extermination is happening, so. Y’know. Screw that guy. Anyway.

Moment of adoration for Joel Perez and his voice acting. The RANGE. The DRAMA. The FABULOSITY. Valentino is absolutely a scumbag but what a great performance.

I need to know DESPERATELY if the minions that Alastor summons are constructs of his own power, or other, less notable souls that he owns. Husk retaining his own form could be because he used to be an Overlord himself. Niffty…unsure if Alastor actually owns her soul, but it’s a good bet, and Alastor seems to like her most anyway. Valentino has moth demons that look like him manning his doors when Vox comes to see him, but it could be a uniform; Vox and Velvette both have people working for them (that they may or may not own, but it’s another good bet that they do) that have distinct looks. Which means that if Alastor’s little minions aren’t souls he owns in their own uniform, but manifestations of his own power that do his bidding, then that’s another difference that sets Alastor apart from other Overlords that’s worth exploring.

Also I keep forgetting about his shadow and I’m very curious to know if it has unique properties other than letting him teleport around. Alastor changing his form so often also seems something unique to him. The mouth-droolies that are probably blood (unless it’s Valentino and then it’s his venom) seems to just be a quirk of Viv’s art style, since Vox, Alastor, Valentino, and Lucifer all do it when they need to seem more deranged, but Alastor changing his entire look to be bigger and scarier is something we see Stolas and the Sins do in Helluva Boss, not Overlords in Hazbin Hotel. The Goetia family and the Sins are on a different level than Overlords in Hell’s power structure, but Alastor himself seems to be something else on top of that. Perhaps he’s becoming something closer to Adam and Lilith, though again, more on what I think is up with them on a later episode.

The funny thing about the Vees is that alone, any one of them wouldn’t be too much of a threat, but together, they are absolutely dangerous, and that’s fascinating. It’s the dark side version of working together making people stronger and better. But although Vox’s obsession with Alastor isn’t shared by the other Vees, they don’t fight him when he insists they have to keep an eye on the situation with him and Charlie. I don’t believe for a second that any sinner in Hell cares about the authority of the royal family outside of how the royal family can destroy them power-wise, but it’s interesting to me how even when they don’t care about Charlie as an authority figure, they do care when she spends time with other potentially powerful figures. This is a hint of Charlie as a dormant untapped power source. Most of Hell doesn’t care about who she is or what she does, brushing her off as a sort of ornamental figure. Except for Alastor. Who very correctly has singled her out as a future powerhouse, though what he intends to direct that powerhouse towards (and if it was even his idea in the first place) remains to be seen.

Moment of silence for Valentino bedazzling a gun with glue and rhinestones during a meeting with his business partners, that is good background comedy.

Alastor has a different job title every time he’s referred to in his capacity to the hotel and I find that greatly amusing. Also telling as to the quality of management at first. Because, come on, the whole premise of the hotel is based on a wild hair that Charlie has, and the sequence with Sir Pentious pretending to fit into the hotel model is a blinding spotlight into the flaws of Charlie’s thinking. The behaviors that she’s attempting to get Pentious and by extension Angel Dust to model are a very rudimentary and I’d go so far as to say childish understanding of what sin versus virtue is. But as is revealed later—it’s all they have to go on. They can see the state of Hell and make assumptions about what landed them there, but Adam himself is a glaring contradiction to the assumptions, top to bottom. It makes the whole Sir Pentious farce seem even more shallow, which is a brilliant narrative choice to laying the groundwork for Angel’s character arc, because the shallowness of it all is what hurts him.

And, most importantly: while Charlie dismisses Angel in this episode to focus on her shiny new toy, it’s Angel that she relies on to prove her point to Heaven later, a sharp counterpoint of real change to the very obvious fake change in Sir Pentious in this particular episode. (Before. Y’know. The real change Sir Pentious undergoes at the end of the episode. And then again at the end of the season. But Sir Pentious, while in Hell and obviously with his own issues, also isn’t quite as complex or deep a person as Angel Dust is. Perhaps he didn’t have as far to go to make a real change in himself. Until the nature of the rules for who goes where when they die becomes less arbitrary, we can only make educated guesses.)

But back to Charlie and how she’s the absolute perfect princess for the Pride ring: she is sparkly and sweet and naïve, but she is so sure that she’s right that she pulls the entire cast into this madcap adventure with her to try and redeem sinners without actually knowing what it means. She is so sure she’s right that she, a Hellborn demon, is determined to talk to Heaven—HEAVEN, and not just Heaven, but THE ANGELS WHO RUN HEAVEN AND AS FAR AS SHE KNOWS ACTIVELY CELEBRATE HER PEOPLE’S EXTERMINATION—and just knows she can get them on her side if she pitches it well enough.

If Charlie wasn’t so earnest, and self-aware by the end of the season as well, it would make her unlikeable, smug instead of sincere. But, like the magical casting of Rhys Darby as Stede Bonnet that makes him an earnest and likeable character instead of a self-obsessed smug asshole, it’s that core of absolute genuine care in her that saves her from being a terror. She’s learning, and she is going through her own coming of age and understanding the world around her. Not to mention that she has an immense amount of pressure on her that her parents seem to have succeeded in shielding her from until she starts actively pushing at the boundaries of her world and taking on more and more of that weight. Charlie doesn’t have to put herself out there for sinners. Lucifer tells her that. Adam tells her that. Lilith never did, as far as we can tell, but her absence is pretty telling on that front. She could let the status quo continue and live in her own happy little dream world with nothing to trouble or vex her.

But that isn’t Charlie Morningstar. She’s a dreamer with fierce independence. And while her Hazbin Hotel redemption plan is RIFE with hubris, it’s also indicative of her strength of character, and it’s admirable to watch.

In HB, the Sins that we’ve seen so far have had elements of understanding their power—I saw one post describe it as embodying their opposite Virtue as well as their Sin. Beelzebub is the Sin of Gluttony, but she is cautious about others around her indulging too much to the point of harm (Temperance). Asmodeus is the Sin of Lust, but he rejects lust by force and accepts real love in his life that’s more than just sexual chemistry (Chastity). Lucifer is most certainly the Sin of Pride, but the argument could be made of his humbling, not just at Heaven’s hands, but by breaking down his own misconceptions and worldview keeping him and Charlie from connecting and listening to her and choosing to believe in her (Humility). Charlie is heir to Pride, at the very least; she’s well on her way to accepting the slice of humble pie that comes with it.

The ring model of Hell in the background of the entire “It Starts With Sorry” sequence really makes me question if HH Hell isn’t in the same universe as HB Hell, because it’s not just a one-and-done cameo piece; it shows up several times, a fixture of the background that gets at least two different angles. So here’s another theory I’ve been cooking up: HH Hell has two moon-like objects, one that looks obviously Heavenly, one that looks obviously Hellish. I’m wondering if the Hellish moon is either Lucifer’s palace (prison), or the rest of Hell. Admittedly, that theory doesn’t work with HB, what with Blitzo setting up his business specifically to cater to sinners and thus the Pride ring is clearly connected to the rest of Hell and not its own floating sky-entity, but then again, the ring model of Hell isn’t exactly literal, from what I read in the wiki; if they can road trip to Sloth, maybe they can take a magic elevator to Pride because it’s a moon and not a ring. Who knows. I certainly don’t. And it’s not like an atlas of Hell is ever going to be released, despite how very much I would love one.

Not as much to discuss re: my overarching theories about the nature of Hell and its power structures in this one, but the next episode most certainly does, so I will keep this consistent and in its own post.

[soyhasmcaamp]

With the "shooting the employees" thing they don't actually die. I'm not saying it's not terrible (it is cruel) but he's not losing those souls. The only way he loses them is via exterminations since they die permanently. We see Angel, Cherri, and even Pentious also indiscriminately killing in the pilot. It's a violent place, but in general the consequence for "death" is severely reduced unless you have angelic weapons.

Also he may not like the grunts at his company (or view them as important) but we see him being pretty frank and normal (from a CEO perspective) with his assistant. It's snappish and snarky, but he tells his employee what is going on (Val tantrum), speaks to him with some casual familiarity, and doesn't harm the employee. So, I see evidence for Vox at least being capable of being chill if he sees value in it. I know people like to see the Vees as pure evil but we really don't always see that explicitly in my opinion. They're more nuanced than people give them credit for (interestingly people extend that nuance to characters like Alastor and Angel, however, who also have complicated moralities but that's a different can of worms lol).

I honestly kinda forgot that they don't actually die from anything other than angelic steel lol

And I didn't try to make vox (or the vees in general) seem completely evil, I love this man and think he has sillyness potential all the way, I was really just saying that I dont think he cares that much about his employees.

He cares enough about them, and I imagine he does give those who don't have any other choice some shelter during the exterminations, but he wouldn't really be all that bothered by losing some of them if they dont make it in time.

This is all just my opinion tho (tbh I lost the thread a while ago and don't know if what I'm saying makes sense so yeah this might sound like yipperish)