#picturebox

[copcomco]

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MERE by C.F. EVERYTHING TOGETHER by Sammy Harkham POMPEII by Frank Santoro

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[sequential-art]

Robert Beatty art from Kramer's Ergot 8 2012, PictureBox Inc.

[vroomvroomwee]

Something interesting that I don't often see people talk about is how loved Vox is.

We acknowledge his need for attention, adulation and validation. We acknowledge that he's insecure and he needs the public to respect and revere him, but we never talk about how successful he is at it. Because every single character we've seen him interact with thus far has... loved him.

Velvette does, it's not obvious but we as the audience know. She calls him darling, sends him kisses, and is overall much more cordial with him than she is with other people. Perhaps, it's because Vox actively tries to get on her good side and hides his real feelings well. Whichever it is, Velvette likes him.

Valentino does too. That smile and giddiness in the finale? Say what you want but that moth is whipped (and he hates it).

The population of hell does. They all see him as a source of safety and protection. They immediately flock to the TVs and displays when Vox starts his talk show. And he wouldn't be as successful if he didn't have their support.

And I think Alastor likes him too. Or at least, he DID. Alastor who hates men in general and hates taking pictures, and yet he's taken a picture with Vox and allows him to film him with his drones. He kills powerful overlords for fun, and yet not only has Vox come out alive after their last battle, but Alastor still does nothing to fight him. He only disses him out because Vox started ridiculing him.

I don't know how Vox's relationships will develop as the show progresses, but I think it's interesting how everyone Vox comes into contact ends up loving him. No wonder the fandom does too.

[sunnysduet]

"i said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" ALASTOR THE DEMON THAT YOU ARE.

[moodooivy]

Vox: "I hate you." Alastor: "I hate you." Vox: "Tacky ancient prick." Alastor: "Annoying picturebox." Vox: "You have absolutely no taste." Alastor: "You're a disgrace to all media." Vox: "Your face is made for radio because no one wants to see it!" Alastor: "You degenerate disgust me!" Vox: "I will shock you until you're numb!" Alastor: "I will tear you apart limb by limb!" Vox and Alastor: *Glaring at each other* "..." *Aggressive make out noises* Lucifer: *Watching in disgust* "No PDA in the lobby!... The fuck is Vox even doing here?"

Charlie: "Dad, that's not a rule-" Lucifer: "I'M MAKING IT ONE!"

Hazbin Hotel, Vox, Alastor, Lucifer, Charlie: Vivziepop

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Alastor seduces Valentino to cuck Vox who he knows is watching on the camera.

-Crack Rodent

Alastor's heat always came at the most inconvenient of times. 

There were no seasons in Hell, per se, no way to mark time save for the big clock at the pentagram's center, its hands now ominously slack thanks to Charlie's work, but even so, Alastor had hoped he'd have more time. Sometimes he went years between heats. He'd not had one since he'd left Hell, in fact.

But now he felt sweaty and overdressed and was starting to hope that Angel Dust would offer to suck his nonexistent dick again, so there was no denying that his reprieve was up. He needed to do something about this.

Bringing in someone new was out of the question. His reputation was already in tatters after his televised humiliation by Adam, and sex workers talked. He'd be a joke in the gossip columns by the morning. He didn't have enough prestation to get something discreet through one of the other overlords, and much as his relationship with Husk was strained at times he had no desire to force himself on the man.

Which left Vox.

Before their fight Vox had been the one he'd taken to bed. A competent lover. Willing. Would hold him close and on occasion croon a slow jazz standard in his ear in a way that made Alastor shivery and tender, voice so full of gravel that one could rake it into a zen garden. And for all their public airing of dirty laundry, Vox had never once hinted at Alastor's lack of manhood, which meant that perhaps he hoped their old agreement still held. After everything.

But there was no way Alastor was going to Vox. He would be made to beg, Alastor could feel it. He would gloat. No, Vox needed to come to him.

It didn't take Alastor long to figure out how to make that happen.

“Greetings!” Alastor manifested grin first from the shadow to sit on Valentino's desk.

“Fuck!” Valentino scrambled backwards, nearly falling out of his chair. He kicked the chair aside, putting as much distance between himself and Alastor as possible as he scrabbled around looking for-

“Looking for this?” Alastor picked up Valentino's glitter encrusted gun from the desk and held it between thumb and forefinger, letting it dangle. “I'm not here to fight, you know.”

“Fucking cañona shit ass fuck,” Valentino snarled. “Then what fuck are you doing here?"

“I have... a proposition for you,” said Alastor, folding one leg over the other. Seduction was not his strong suit, but his heat was doing a lot of the legwork there, his body telling him exactly what constituted a sexy pose as he leaned forward, twirling the gun around one finger.

Valentino tilted his head to one side, catching on quickly. “You and me, radio fucker?” He narrowed his eyes, peering at Alastor through his big pink glasses. “What makes you think I would be up for that?”

Alastor smiled, instincts telling him not to sell it too hard. “Aren't you curious? About which of my qualities sent your friend the picturebox so doolally that he's still obsessing over me years later?”

And obsession was the word. Alastor could feel Vox’s attention on him already, a prickling in his antlers from the security camera mounted in the corner of Valentino’s office. He smiled at it, letting his distortion drop momentarily as he made eye contact, before turning his attention back to Valentino, who was clearly considering the offer.

“Is it true you’ve got a pussy, Radio Demon?” Valentino asked, the lines of his lips shifting from snarl to leer.

Had Vox told him? Alastor kept his smile level. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, a purr creeping into his voice, and he was dimly aware of a power surge, probably Vox shitting himself in his control room.

“I have nothing to hide, venadito,” said Valentino, his wings pulling back to reveal the dark sequined bodysuit he wore beneath. He was graceful, a dancer as he stepped closer, over the fallen chair, until he and Alastor breathed the same air. “If you let me taste that sweet papaya of yours, I’ll even let you touch them.”

Compromised by his heat as it was, Alastor felt his body respond to the proximity, a surge of arousal leaving him squeezing his thighs together as Valentino leaned over him. Valentino was certainly tall. “Them?” he repeated.

Valentino grinned, with one finger opening a slit in the side of his bodysuit and peeling it open to reveal the satiny purple skin beneath. “Them,” he confirmed, as he peeled the suit open over his groin. Alastor watched in fascination as he revealed three members. The central one could be mistaken for human, albeit rather long, but the two either side, sitting nearly at Valentino’s inguinal crease, were curved inward, long, pale spines splaying from them. “I bet you’re wondering what they feel like, yeah?” he said, grinning, and Alastor wondered how many people that line had worked on. “Now, you, venadito,” he said, a little pink liquid trickling from his bottom lip.

Alastor’s hand went to his belt and the lights flickered with the power glitch this time. Oh, Vox was certainly watching. Certainly pissed. Lovely. Unable to match the showmanship of Valentino’s tease, Alastor opted for simplicity, dismissing his pants with a snap of his fingers, and uncrossed his legs for Valentino, putting the gun to one side.

“Fuck,” Valentino hissed, his good antenna twitching as he caught wind of the smell. “You’re in fucking heat?” He drew close, long fingers trailing over Alastor’s bare thigh, and Alastor shivered. “Big bad radio demon, gagging for co-”

“Val!” Vox manifested from a nearby power socket like a bolt of lightning, looking frazzled, looking more pissed than Alastor had ever seen him. His voice was deliciously dark, pointed teeth showing as an aura of static buzzed around him. Oh, just the sight of him was a heady thrum between Alastor’s thighs. “Get the fuck off of him, Val. He’s mine.”

“Oh, I am, am I?” Alastor grinned at Vox as Valentino withdrew from him, nonplussed. “Nice of you to inform me.”

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Headcanon - Targeting Thralls

This one never had an overarching story, just a scene and half a concept. Hope to find a home for it one day.

----------

Niffty and Husk need rescue when another overlord (vox) decides to lash out at them, to piss off their overlord. They assume this is It for them (well husk does, Niffty’s faith is unwavering). 

Unexpectedly, the blow is blocked and turned aside, leaving a furious Alastor in its stead. 

“You dare…?” 

“Oh NOW you care about the little guy? Stop the act, Al, we know you’re nothing but a baseline manipulative nightmare that only looks human.” Vox sneers back. “And we can always use that kind of moxie at Voxtek, so why not think about my offer a little harder… or something might just happen to your little toys.

[Absolute banger of a battle scene that I will write at some point etc.]

Vox cheats by leaving before the final blow is struck, but its close. Too close. 

“Did that vile picturebox manage to touch you before I arrived?” he snarls at the pair, and gets a joyful shake of the head from Niffty. Husk is too busy trying to map out how to manage the static spewing nightmare form before him, there’s no implicit gratitude for the whole… whatever that was, but he doesn’t hate that he didn’t have his ass kicked.

“Are you kidding me? In front of the HOTEL?!” yells Vaggie, tugging her hair as she surveys the annihilated lawn and scorched front of the building. “Couldn’t you go do that whole powerful dick swinging thing overlords do, elsewhere?”

That seems to snap Alastor back to himself, somewhat. “Ah, y-y…” (static) “yes, Vagathina Rose Davenport Junior, I do sincerely apologise for the whole to do. You see, that vile video podcast arrived with the express purpose of striking at Niffty and Husker, here… it was all that could be done to hurl him through the front doors before I tore his FUCKING HEAD OFF AND DEVOURED HIS HEART!”

“Charlie… out here now… we need you to do the friendship thing, STAT!”

“Friendship thi-...? Oh no, Al, what happened?”

“You CANNOT have missed all the noise made out here. Angel was hanging out a window four feet from yours firing rounds into fucking Vox, there is NO WAY you missed all that.”

“Wait, what?”

Ah, taking a closer look, its clear that Miss Morningstar might just be deep in the sleepdeprived manic hole right now.

“Hey Al, since ya saved Husk, how’s about I give ya a little ‘reward’... don’t shrink down, I’ve always wanted ta see if I could manage an Overlord in their boss form!” Angel hollers down. “Ya ever hear of a macro feti-...” mercifully he trails off.

The statement is so obviously targeted to hit Alastor’s brain as repugnant and uncouth, but it works. With a somewhat confused and mildly horrified frown, the overlord slides back to more manageable proportions. Mostly perplexed at how Angel thought he would survive an encounter with an Overlord given the… inherent proportional concerns.

“I would request that you never say such a thing again or I will hurl you into the next acid rainstorm. However, thank you for… breaking that train of thought. It was tempting to seek out Vox for a rematch.”

“You look like shit.”

“Such language, Vagathalia Junebug the 2nd! What would your dearest lady think?”

“I think her mouth can make whatever noise it wants, it’s pretty when she talks…”

“Hmmm, I do believe someone needs a good nap. Niffty, escort the Princess to her room and… non-lethally I must stress and without overt injury, please help her remain there.”

“What do you think that was about? Vox never targets the thralls, far as I’ve ever known of him. What d’ya think changed?”

“I am not certain, Husker. Perhaps he thinks its a new way to cause annoyance? Nevermind. I would not allow him such easy access to you again, not now I am aware of his ridiculous machinations.”

“Fucking how, Al? You look like shit right now, it’s a good thing you broke apart when you did.”

“Never worry about that, my good feline, this will be fine in a matter of hours.”

“Hmmm. C’mon, at least let me help click your bones back right, ‘cause I fucking hate the sound of having to rebreak them later.”

“Ahhh, the love you have for me is truly delightful to behold, Husker…”

----

Some sort of ploy by Vees to target the thralls to naturally reduce the power of other overlords. Vox wanted Alastor specifically. However, Valentino finds it amusing that he doesn’t have to fight for Angel Dust/his safety, as long as the whore is in the hotel, he’s naturally guarded by Vox’s little crush. So they leave Alastor alone for now.

Others lose dozens. Someone even tries for Carmilla’s daughters, but Rosie intervenes with teeth, with claws and a lack of decorum that makes witnesses wet themselves.

There’s an angelic hand pulling the strings, etc etc. 

Lucifer is required to stabilise Pride before the whole place explodes.

That’s another layer on the disaster cake needing careful unravelling. What if the Vees were merely the first conduit, because heaven got through to them via media at the source. They intended to have them beat down other overlords and drag them in, bind them until there would be no strong sinners to resist…

What if its already happening… and there’s nothing else that can be done. Also, hotel nonsense in the background.

[askradiostatic]

Alastor, what is vox like drunk, and vise versa

"Well, from what I remember, Vox would just get really sad and cry his picturebox heart out."

"Aha. Aha. Well, I don't even remember what Alastor was like. I guess I'd always get drunk before him."

[debaucherous-doodles]

The acid rain pelting Vox’s head made an oddly entertaining sound as he scampered through a dingy alleyway. Not long ago had he found himself in hell, which he wasn’t too terribly surprised about. He had swindled more than enough people to end up there. Having been rich and powerful on earth, he was reduced to nothing below its crust. His former status as a televangelist resulted in the fat-backed tv that he sported as a head.

If only he could’ve taken it with him. Vox was currently soaked and starved beyond belief, sending him seeking any shelter he could find. As much as he disliked cannibal town, it was the closest place that could offer refuge.

“Sounds like that picturebox above your neck isn’t the only noisy thing about you…” Alastor emerges from the shadows, spouting a shit-eating grin. Vox can feel the static vibrating through his head as he places a self-conscious hand over his belly.

As if on queue, his stomach responds with a particularly noisy rumble.

“How all of hell doesn’t know when you’re hungry is beyond me.” Alastor chuckles, poking Vox’s impatient stomach with his staff. The sound of static grew louder as Vox sunk deeper into his embarrassment and… anger? As much as he was infatuated with Alastor he could feel annoyance bubbling up through his empty belly. His stomach gave another poorly-timed grumble, sending a chuckle down Alastor’s spine as the deer broke into a series of giggles. “Goodness! Have you never eaten before?”

“How about you shut the fuck up?” Vox burst out before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Take that tone with me again, and I’ll make it the last thing you’ll ever say.” Alastor hisses with a wide grin, teeth glinting and antlers growing. “Now, who wants some jambalaya?”

[monstrousvoice]

Goodbye

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Relationship: Alastor/Vox, Radiostatic, Background Radiostatic

Tags: Background Relationships, Background Radiostatic, it’s there it's just not the main focus, Pre-Relationship, Personal Fic, Vent Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Loss of a Pet, Vark hasn’t made an appearance in the official show and that had me thinking, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, basically I push all my emotions onto Vox and have Alastor deal with it, Shark Facts, Vox is autistic about sharks like me because I said so

Summary: Alastor decides to spend the night people watching and comes across Vox instead.

AN: So as of me posting this, in less than 24 hours I will be saying goodby to my cat. I got her at 6 months old and have had her in my life for 17 years and 11 months. And now it's time for me to say goodbye to her and I’ve known it was coming for months now. So I wrote this. I don’t know why, it just helped a little.

Read on AO3!

When Alastor decided to spend his night people watching, he preferred to go to various bars and dance clubs around the Pentagram. The itch to maim and kill would arise and he'd sneak off to follow his prey for the night, but occasionally when these moods hit him he simply preferred to sit and observe. 

Tonight was one of those moods, the ravenous hunger that gnawed at him was sated for the evening and he was feeling rather…nostalgic might be too strong a word to describe the feeling, but it was the most fitting that came to mind. It would explain why he chose the establishment he did for this night. It was a familiar bar bordering Cannibal Town, and one he hasn't been to visit since…well, for quite some time. 

The building was still the same as it had been for decades, with the same worn leather booths and easy going atmosphere very few bars offered in hell. When Alastor stepped through the front door, he could have believed for a moment that he was back in a simpler time; a time where he didn't feel the oppressive weight of a collar around his neck, when the shark-toothed smile of his picturebox didn't cause such an ache in his chest-

He immediately abandoned that line of thought, focusing on the now to ground himself again. There were a few updates here and there in the building that caused cracks in his nostalgic memories. The floors had clearly been replaced recently, the hardwood stain free with fewer cracks from wear and tear. The far wall had a new coat of paint, and new framed paintings to go with it. The register at the bar was modern and electronic, and there was even a TV at the corner of the bar. 

Alastor did a double take, blinking owlishly for a few seconds before his face settled back into his trademark, unbothered smile. That was no regular TV.

Vox sat in the far corner of the bar top, eyes lidded and a soft frown on his screen. His right hand held his head up as he leaned listlessly against the counter, his left hand hovering over his glass of whiskey, pointer claw circling the rim idly. Now that he saw him, Alastor picked up the familiar feeling of static and electric frequencies that always announced the presence of the television. No doubt he had picked up on Alastor's presence as well.

A spark of glee went off in Alastor’s chest. A night teasing and provoking his old friend for attention was not how Alastor thought this night would go, but he wasn't about to complain. As he understood it, Vox rarely actually left Vee Tower these days, so buried by work and ingrained in his cameras and electronics as he was. To find him idling the night away in what was their hang out spot back in the day was a real treat indeed! 

Paying no mind to the other patrons of the building-they didn't matter anymore, not when Vox was here-Alastor made his way to the empty spot next to where the television demon sat. He still hadn't looked up from the bar counter, and Alastor noticed his phone lying in front of him. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Silly picturebox, he always got so wrapped up in work he couldn't even relax properly. Well, a good verbal spar, possibly followed by a physical one, would do the shark wonders, he was sure. And if Alastor got to bask in his rival’s undivided attention in return, then that was his business. 

“Vox, old pal! What a surprise!” His voice was cheerful and not entirely false. After seven years of not seeing the demon’s familiar shark grin, Alastor had been surprised at himself by how much he missed it. Not even the hurt from years before could dim the pleasant feeling that had flooded his veins when he walked through town and saw Vox taunting him on live television. It was exhilarating to have so much of the TV’s focus on him once again. 

He couldn't wait for those red and blue eyes to look up at him - annoyed, surprised, angry, it didn't matter. As long as Vox was looking at him-

His words got no response. Alastor’s left eye twitched, his smile tightening at the corners as he pressed in closer to the media demon's personal space. 

“Vox? Helloooo?” Still nothing. “You are being awfully rude, old friend. I suppose with all your upgrades, manners must have been lost somewhere along the way, hmm?” Static laced his voice, his only tell that the lack of attention was irritating him. He waited, bent over Vox's shoulder, eager for a response. 

Finally he was given one. Vox’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep, weary sigh. His gaze still locked on his phone. 

“Go away Alastor.” He rumbled. Well that simply wasn't going to happen. Vox still hadn't looked at him yet. With narrowed eyes Alastor peeked down at the phone, annoyed at whatever could have his picturebox so enamored. 

His eyebrow raised in curiosity. It wasn't work that Vox was staring at, it was a picture. Or rather, pictures. The TV was clearly using wireless commands on his phone to flick between picture after picture saved to the device, all of them with the main center point being his beloved pet land shark. 

“My, my, is that Vark? He's gotten rather big!” The radio demon commented. Even with his dislike for dogs, the land shark had been an exception to this rule, much like Vox has been an exception to every other rule Alastor had ever set for himself.

The shark demon's left hand stopped playing with his glass, slamming against the bar top as he finally-finally-looked at Alastor. 

“Fuck off, Alastor. I'm not in the mood.” He growled. His massive teeth were bared in his direction, his left eye swirling in apparent irritation. And yet despite the outburst, Alastor could see that he wasn't truly angry. 

With a clear up-close view of his screen, Alastor could see the stress on the demon's face, could see the lack of fire in his eyes when Alastor poked at his buttons. Eyes darting down, he took in the rest of the media mogul’s appearance. His bowtie was undone around his collar, vest slightly wrinkled, the sleeves of his undershirt unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows.

He looked disheveled, stressed. Tired. 

Very interesting. 

“Now my old friend, what could have you so out of sorts on such a fine night? A less than perfect appearance in public? Very unlike you.” Alastor couldn't keep the purr from his voice. Vox always had a way of making his softer side bubble up to the surface…

Vox scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his whiskey before looking back at his phone. As if Alastor hadn't even interrupted his apparent brooding. The flickers of irritation Alastor felt before were changing, morphing into discontent and genuine concern. This was very unlike the Vox he knew. 

He sat on the empty stool beside Vox, pleased when the action got an irritated twitch from the demon's left hand. He wasn't able to ignore him completely it would seem. Alastor brought his elbows up to the bar top, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on the link they made. Vox’s gaze darted towards him, his frown turning into a scowl very briefly before he flicked his attention back to the pictures of Vark.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say something happened to darling Vark to get you into such a state.” He prodded, not all together unkind. Even with the years of animosity between them, there were unspoken rules to their interactions. Jabs and insults were superficial and shallow, about their work or preferred aesthetics. Meant to annoy and vex but not actually hurt. If something genuinely distressing has happened to Vark, Alastor would take great care to not use it as future ammo.

Vox glared at him, confusion clear in his gaze. 

“What do you care? I'm surprised you even fucking remember his name…” Alastor blinked in response. 

“My dear, why would I not remember him? I was there when you found the mongrel and insisted on keeping him!” Alastor’s brow furrowed in confusion, smile close lipped as he took in Vox’s words. How could Alastor not remember that night? 

Vox had gone with him to one of Rosie's soirees. He had charmed many of the local cannibal residents with his quick wit and sharp smile. Alastor had been a confusing mix of pride at how much attention his dear friend had been receiving, and jealous that he hardly had a single moment of Vox's undivided attention the whole evening. It was when Susan had started fawning over the TV that Alastor had excused them both, his limit for the night reached. Alastor had walked Vox back to his apartment block, arm in arm, as the shark talked and talked, words as electric as the very power he controlled. He had been so giddy, asking Alastor in every way except words if he had done a good job that night, made a good impression on the community Alastor held so dear. 

It was a tiny squeak from an alleyway that stopped the demon's excited chatter. Vox froze, stopping Alastor too due to their locked arms. Alastor had been certain it was just a random sinner, high out of their mind and possibly overdosing, not that he cared much. They would regenerate by morning, he had reminded Vox. But the silly tv had shaken his head, insisting it was something different. He had pulled away from Alastor and gone into the alley, and Alastor had ‘tsk’ed but followed, only to see Vox crouching over a box. 

The look he had given Alastor then…wide eyes hopeful and pleading, clearly enamored by whatever he found, had made Alastor’s heart skip a beat and pound against his chest. He knew right then that it didn't matter what it was, if Vox said he wanted to keep it, Alastor wouldn't have the strength to dissuade him.

Vox had taken his blazer off and scooped the contents of the box up, wrapping it snug and tight. Curious despite himself, Alastor had stepped forward to see better, and was greeted with the most pathetic looking creature he could recall ever seeing in hell.

Vark had been a small pup, massive eyes swollen shut with infection as he wheezed in Vox's arms. His gills were scarred and battered and his body much too thin. Alastor could clearly remember the way his skeleton pressed against the confines of his filthy skin. (Vox had later explained, in great detail, that they weren't actually bones made of calcium, but rather cartilage. The only ‘real’ bone sharks had was their jaws and teeth. Alastor had been drinking his tea, trying not to let how smitten he felt in the moment show. Then Vox had said that shark's skin was actually made of the same stuff as his own teeth - dentine - and not actual skin, and Alastor had been so startled by the information he couldn't help but laugh.)

By the way Vox was cooing over the small creature wrapped like a burrito in his arms, Alastor correctly guessed that the demonic shark pup would be a permanent fixture of Vox's life moving forward. 

“The pairs of wingtips I had to replace when that pup started teething…” Alastor sighed, rolling his eyes with fondness that he only let a select few, Vox being one of them, see. “Although he is much bigger now than back then. He used to barely be able to reach your knee when on his back legs!” He chuckled, signaling to the bartender with a wave of his hand.

Vox simply stared at him in surprise as he ordered his three fingers of rye. He still didn't say anything about what had him so upset, and the two of them sipped from their drinks in silence for a few minutes. Alastor was content to sit and wait till the tv finally spoke again. He didn't have to wait long. 

“Why the fuck are you here Alastor? Why do you care why I'm here?” Vox glared at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You fucking hate me.”

Alastor choked on his next sip, the burning alcohol getting stuck in the back of his throat as his mind scrambled. Quickly trying to save face, he covered his mouth with a hand, coughing and clearing his throat as discreetly and quickly as he could. Vox looked like he wanted to laugh for a moment, before the general malaise of his thoughts settled over him again. Alastor's voice still sounded a little choked when he spoke again. 

“M-my dear-what-” He took a moment to compose himself again. “What ever gave you that impression?”

Vox looked at him like he grew a second head, indignant and offended. 

“The fuck do you mean, ‘what gave me that impression’!? Alastor. We almost killed each other.” There was the familiar fire in his eyes. Alastor was glad to see it back.

“Oh please, the occasional brawl is nothing for us! An exhilarating battle to get the blood pumping.” He responded, his smile turning eager at the thought. Vox always looked so very pretty when upset…Not as pretty as when he was flustered and shy, to be certain, but Alastor hasn't had a chance to see those wonderful expressions in quite some time…

Vox looked at him with wide eyes, mouth open in shock like a gaping fish. It was rather cute.

“I asked you to join me.” Alastor opened his mouth to respond only for Vox to keep going. “Fuck Alastor, I was in love with you.” He closed his mouth with a sharp ‘click’, staring at the TV demon. 

“You made it very clear you don't feel the same. You said ‘no’, and left. How else am I supposed to take that!?” Vox's voice was laced with static, his left eye swirling again as sparks shot between his antennae.

“Ah…I believe my dear friend…that there was a miscommunication.” Alastor watched as Vox's face went through a slew of emotions, many negative, before settling on confusion and hurt. 

“...What?”

“My dear, I had to leave no matter what. A partnership was never an option for me at the time. I was under the impression I had made that clear.” His voice was soft, red eyes watching the tv next to him. 

“I thought…the way you left, I thought it was because of-of how I felt-” Vox's voice was practically a whisper as he spoke. “I thought you hated me for it…”

Alastor felt his chest ache, realization of how Vox had felt during that time crashing into him hard, like a punch to the gut.

“Vox, my leaving and rejection of your partnership had nothing to do with emotions. Nor should it be taken as a declaration of how I felt towards you at the time. I…truly did not intend for my rejection to be so harsh that it could be taken in such a way.”

Vox looked away from him, setting his elbows on the bar top and cradling his screen in his claws. Alastor took another sip from his rye, giving the other a moment to compose himself. 

It was only a few moments later that Alastor realized Vox was trembling. He placed his drink down, and subtly used his shadows to darken the corner of the room they were in. In the next few moments he was glad he had done so, as the first few tears fell from Vox’s screen. Alastor leaned in closer, his smile strained.

“Vox…?”

“What the fuck…” His voice was barely audible, the words spoken with a shuddering inhale of breath. Alastor felt something worm its way into his gut, slimy and viscous, choking him from the inside out. Vox crying was something he had only ever seen once before, and now with new context added to the situation, he could understand why his rejection all those years ago had caused them. He wasn't sure what about his words had caused them this time. 

He laid a gentle hand on Vox's shoulder, and the other jumped at the feeling. Alastor pulled his hand away as if burned, shocked at the raw hurt and pain he saw on Vox's screen. The shark shuddered as more of his tears fell.

“I-I can't d-d-do this right now, Al-Alastor…I can't do this t-tonight-!” He hiccuped, and Alastor's own expression turned pained, smile strained and trying to pull down against the invisible stitches lining it. 

“Vox…?” His voice was gentle as he called the other’s name. Vox's eyes darted down to his phone. Alastor followed his gaze before looking back at his face. Vox’s eyes were wide and glitching ever so slightly, fat blue tears leaking down his face in rivulets and collecting on the edge of his monitor before falling to the table.

“Do you th-think it's fucking-...fucking funny!? Is that why you're here now!?” Vox gave a humorless chuckle that choked into a quiet sob, burying his face in his hands. Any other sound he would have made was muffled, only the shaking of his shoulders revealing that he was still upset. Alastor’s eyes darted around the room quickly, looking to see if anyone had noticed the apparent breakdown happening next to him. Only the bartender met his gaze, simply raising an eyebrow and nodding towards Vox, then the bottles of booze lining the wall next to him. Alastor shook his head, Vox didn't need more alcohol clouding his judgment.

“My old friend, I'm afraid I don't entirely follow.” If he could frown, he would do so right now. “I would think clearing up this misunderstanding would be excellent news! Why are you so upset-?” 

“Just-! Stop. S-stop talking, dammit…” The television's voice cracked with emotion, head still buried in his hands. Alastor felt truly lost. He was never very good at the ‘comforting others’ business, a power his mother had in spades that he never quite got the hang of himself. It hadn't ever been a problem in the past when it came to him and his picturebox; Vox was prone to anger over sadness when things in Hell became difficult, but on the occasions he was genuinely upset…Well, at the time all Alastor had to do was place his hand on the shark demon's back and that would be enough. Vox would be grounded by his touch and come back to him, tired but good as new. 

Considering the revelation of the night, Alastor was pretty certain such touch would be unwelcome right now. 

“...Fuck. You really have just-...the worst f-fucking timing, don't y-you.” Those wide, expressive eyes were back on him. Despite the fresh tear tracks, the ragged and heavy breathing, the pain in Vox’s face…Alastor still felt his insides grow warm and mushy at having all of Vox's attention on him still. 

He wasn't sure how to respond to the other's words, so he took a sip of his drink instead. 

Vox heaved a bone-deep, shuddering sigh, shaking his head gently. He took a slow sip of his own drink, and Alastor's eyes were glued to the motion of his throat as he swallowed. There was a lull between them, one that had Vox opening and closing his mouth several times. Just when Alastor thought the TV would speak, he'd stop himself, taking another sip of liquid courage as he thought.

Alastor sat and waited. 

“Vark…” Vox took a deep breath, suddenly leaning backwards and scrubbing his hands over his face hard enough his screen distorted into rainbow pixels before clearing up. As if said hands were suddenly made of lead, Vox dropped them into his lap, eyes fixed on a point in the ceiling. He blinked once, twice…and more tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. The fat water droplets raced silently down the television's face. He didn't bother trying to wipe them away. 

So Alastor reached a hand up and used his own thumb to do so. Vox startled, face snapping in Alastor's direction with shock written all over his expressive face. Concerned and confused as he was, Alastor couldn't help but file yet another pretty face Vox made into his memory to think about later. Out of all the crying faces the Radio Demon has seen in his long after life, Vox’s was by far the prettiest. 

The TV sighed after a moment, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned further into Alastor's palm, his own hand coming up to grip at the deer demon's wrist. 

“...Vark passed yesterday.” The words were muffled and quiet, so difficult to pick up Alastor’s ears twitched and strained just to catch the sound being whispered by his picturebox. He stiffened, back straightening when they finally registered. 

“He…?”

“He was old.” Vox whispered. His lips pressed against the warm skin of Alastor's palm with every word. “He was tired, and in pain. He lived for so many years…” Another painful breath in, shoulders trembling as Vox tried to speak. 

“I couldn't-...I couldn't watch him suffer anymore Al…I couldn't do it-'' A choked noise left him, a sound that came from deep in his chest. Alastor felt a pain in his chest, a sharp sting that made his brow furrow and his stomach ache. His strong, clever, independent picturebox…looking broken hearted and sad…

“My dear, I'm so sorry…” he whispered. It was all he could do. He kept his hand where it held Vox's face, moving his free hand to the demon's other cheek. Cradling his screen like it was the most delicate, fragile thing in all of hell. 

Vox gave another quiet sob in response, head bowing as he leaned further into Alastor's space. The deer simply moved with him, adjusting his hold to let the television rest his screen on his chest, wrapping his arms tight around the others shoulders. Vox's own claws gripped the back of his coat, holding on like Alastor was the only thing grounding him to reality. 

“H-he's gone-he's f-fucking gone and I d-don't…I fucking miss him so much Alastor…” Vox cried into his chest and Alastor bit his tongue to keep his own emotions in check. This was not the place for such honesty. No one else should have the privilege to see his shark demon so vulnerable. Without a second to waste his shadows curled over the two of them, melting and carrying them far away from prying eyes and ears.

Barstools were replaced with the soft cushion of a mattress under them, the sound of rowdy patrons and jazz melted away to the silence of Alastor’s room at the hotel. He felt Vox freeze where he held him, muscles tensing up as if to attack or run. When Alastor simply continued to hold him, Vox relaxed by slow degrees. His breathing still came in choked whimpers and restrained sobs. The only thing Alastor could think to do to help calm him was to reach a hand up and gently play with an antenna. 

The television demon jumped in surprise, but he did not move away. Instead, he gripped Alastor tighter, cyan claws gripping him like he would be torn away any second. The deer let him without complaint, his own eyes slipping closed as he held his darling picturebox in a way he hadn’t in decades. Did Vox miss this as much as he did? Did those two colleagues of his give him the attention Alastor knew he craved? Abandonment issues were Vox’s biggest weak point; and now Alastor knew that his main support system, his beloved Vark, was no longer there for him.

Alastor realized suddenly that he would never get to see the pup again either, and bit his bottom lip at the sorrow that swept over him at the thought. He may not be very fond of pets himself, but Vark had still wiggled his adorable shark butt into Alastor’s tight group of things he cared about, and he would truly miss him. He decided Vox should know this.

“He was a truly sweet creature my friend. You always did your best for him, I know.” 

Vox shuddered again at his words, a new wave of tears soaking through Alastor’s coat. He stamped down his immediate gut reaction of disgust. It would wash out. He could handle it. It was as he held Vox close and let the other calm down that he was struck with a sudden thought.

“When was the last time you ate, my friend?” 

Vox coughed, pulling away from Alastor to wipe uselessly at his tear stained face. His multicolored eyes stared off to the side, and Alastor was struck again by how…small he looked. Like the lightest wind could blow him away. Vox gave a barely perceptible shrug to his question. Alastor huffed, pushing lightly at the TV’s chest to stand up from the bed.

“I shall make you something. Sit here.” Vox’s eyes went wide and his hand reached out; as if to grab Alastor and pull him back in and never let him go, to hold him close. The deer demon shushed him, encouraging the other to stay still. “I’ll be but a moment my darling. Take some time to calm yourself, maybe even clean up a little. The bathroom is right through there.” He gestured towards the red wall at the beginning of his room where a door innocently sat before the wall fell away to the endless bayou scenery of his hometown. He pulled his coat off and held it out, his shadow plucking it from his fingers to be washed and dried later.

Vox bit his bottom lip but nodded, pushing himself further back onto the bed to lay comfortably against Alastor’s own hardly used pillows. The sight was one he thought he’d never see again; Vox causally on his bed, in his room, surrounded by his presence and scent. It made a dark possessive part of him hiss in joy. He was careful to ignore it. Now was not the time, Vox needed to be allowed to grieve. He would stake a claim on the television another time when Vox was in a better mindset.

He gave his shadows a silent instruction to watch the shark demon while he was away. With a step towards the door of his room he melted into shadow and stepped back out into the hotel kitchen. He was thankful the late hour meant no one was there to disrupt him. He needed to be done with this fast, to get back to his picturebox for the night. With practiced ease he whipped something up, a pan seared slab of meat (not sinner, he was careful to make sure) with some simple sauteed veggies on the side. He didn’t need anything fancy, just something tasty to get into Vox’s stomach before the shark withered away to nothingness.

When he stepped back inside his own room, two plates of food steaming, Vox was sitting right where he left him. The TV was staring out into the vast openness of his bayou, mismatched eyes darting from firefly to firefly as they flickered. His own coat was off, folded neatly on the edge of the bed with his shoes on the floor. Alastor was pleased he felt no reservations about making himself comfortable. He didn't speak, letting the peaceful sound of water lapping against the floor settle over them both. Alastor used a shadow tendril to drag his arm chair closer to the bed.

Before sitting, he held out Vox's plate. The television looked at him, gaze hollow and…so tired. It made his heart twinge in his chest. He gently pushed the plate into Vox's lax hands and settled down to eat next to him. In silence he ate, trying his level best not to stare at his companion or force feed him the dinner cooling in his lap. His patience was rewarded. 

Possibly encouraged by Alastor's eating, or perhaps he just couldn't ignore his body’s desire for sustenance any longer, Vox took his first slow bite. He chewed listlessly, eyes still fixed on the glowing fireflies hovering over swamp water. Every bite was still progress in Alastor's eyes. 

“I don't…want to go back to that empty apartment…” His voice was so soft, so quiet Alastor questioned if he had even heard the other at first. He didn't draw attention to the fresh tears dripping down Vox's screen.

“Then do not. You may stay as long as you wish.” Alastor replied. He continued to eat, even as Vox put his own unfinished plate aside. Alastor had a shadow move it from the unstable surface of the bed to one of his dressers to deal with later. Vox simply laid back against the pillows once more, tears leaking from his face but nothing else. Perhaps he was too tired to cry any longer. 

Alastor knew it wasn't going to be easy. Not for him, not for Vox. His picturebox wasn't going to be ‘okay’ for a while now. But as Vox’s screen finally powered down, Alastor found he was content with that.

[copcomco]

PICTUREBOX TABLOID NEWSPAPER COMICS CACHE - FROM THE COPACETIC ARCHIVES

These tabloid newspaper comics publications were published directly by or in association with PictureBox during the aughts. All were published in small batches (i.e. low print runs). Some are now nearly twenty years old. We have pulled together the remaining extant copies from our archives and posted them on our site. Most issues are available in very low quantities; one to three copies.

>> HERE <<

[sequential-art]

"Cody" by Gabrielle Bell in Kramer's Ergot 8 2012, Picturebox Inc.

[vroomvroomwee]

Don't get me wrong I love the fics/comics of Alastor being forced on a date with Vox (either because he needs something, has lost a bet, made a deal etc. wtv the reason) and he's suffering the entire time because Vox could not be any less impressive.

BUT

I haven't once seen a fic with the same plot, only Alastor doesn't want to go out with Vox because the date will be abysmal, but because he KNOWS he'll have the BEST time.

Think about it, we know they were friends before the "sad and complicated" falling out, which means Alastor (who barely stands men in general) must have enjoyed Vox's company so much that he allowed him in his close circle of friends, so close he actually let him take a picture. And no one can convince me that Vox doesn't know Alastor like the back of his hand.

They've spent years together, Vox would absolutely know what Alastor likes and what he doesn't. He would make the date as good as possible if only to irritate Alastor in a "this is what we could have had you fucking idiot" or a "admit that you missed me fool". He will buy him the biggest bouquet of roses imaginable, he will take him to his favorite restaurant in cannibal town (yes, his stalker ass knows which one Alastor’s favorite is), he will intentionally choose topics of conversation he knows Alastor is interested in and avoid any he isn't (*cough cough* modern tech), he puts on that charming gentlemanly attitude Alastor always falls for, he will get that man drunk off his ass and will pull him to the dance floor like he's done countless times before. He KNOWS what to do to make him happy, he's done it for years. The entire night is like one nostalgic walk in the park, it barely takes any effort from Vox. And besides, Vox's entire shtick is ingratiating himself to people and telling them exactly what they want to hear.

And Alastor HAAATES it.

He HATES how pleasant Vox's company is and no matter how hard he's tried to forget their past friendship, he gets swept right back up. No amount of denial or masking his enjoyment can hide it. He doesn't want to go on that date because he doesn't want to forget why they're enemies, he doesn't want to slide all of that pent up resentment under the rug and simply forgive and forget.

(This entire thing is made so much funnier if it's witnessed from a third person's perspective eg. Charlie. This girl is watching Alastor moping and complaining about having to go with the "ridiculous, inane picturebox" on a date like it's the worst thing that's ever happened to him and *proceed twelve hours later*, Alastor and Vox barge through the hotel doors drunk, bloody, missing several pieces of clothing, clutching onto each other for dear life looking like they've had several near death experiences, with the biggest, brightest smiles on both of their faces while they laugh their asses off.(they probably committed mass genocide))

[hellishradio]

hello again, alastor!

i’ve been meaning to ask for a while, but who do you consider to be your closest friend?? I understand you have some sort of history with Vox, and Mimzy is quite the character, so i’m simply curious. Thank you for your time! :)

" Oh I wouldn't like to rank the people I'm acquainted with, haha! That would be quite unmannerly, hm? Though I don't understand why that lousy picturebox's name is included in this letter, hm? And yes, Mimzy is a very memorable woman, isn't she? "

[moodooivy]

RadioStatic headcanons

They hate each other equally. They love each other equally. Nothing between them is one-sided.

✨Mutual pining✨💅 I don't make the rules

Friends to loves to enemies to lovers again

They will trash talk each other but in their heads they're thinking deep romantic or sexual thoughts. You can guess who's having which. (Al is having the sexy thoughts)

Hell's ultimate switches (But usually, Alastor tops. We know this, come on now)

Alastor's shadow is a Vox stan. It wants its box nuzzles back

Alastor still has the other half of the photo with Vox. It's his prized possession but he'll never admit it.

Alastor misses HIS Vox. He misses his picturebox's comfortable box head.

Vox still has bite marks from when they were friends and Alastor gets curious

Lucifer reminds Alastor of Vox, and Valentino reminds Vox of Alastor

Hazbin Hotel, Alastor, Vox: Vivziepop

(I might update this every now and then)

[sunnysduet]

alastor genuinely calling a tv a picturebox despite absolutely knowing what its called is so endearing