#i literally have been radio silent since may | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serasfanfiction · 6 days

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CW: For Valentino being Valentino. He doesn't do anything, but he does say some things.

oOo

The closer they came to V Tower, the more loud everything became.

Paper posters gave way to bulletin boards. Every street was lit with flashing signs and arrows, pointing the way to different businesses down the main strip. Advertisements were nearly plastered on every single available surface, competing with each other in a cacophony of bright colors and promises to make all of one's troubles go away, if only one bought the product.

Sinners wandered the streets, some glued to their phones as they typed out a text message, watched a video, or shouted at someone on the other end of a phone call. Some sinners loitered around various shops selling televisions, each screen showing an advertisement for the latest gadget VoxTek was selling.

The Vees made it ridiculously easy to learn their faces, as none of the trio were shy about plastering their likeness all over their wares. Vox was clearly unafraid to throw his reputation behind anything he supported, one advertisement proclaiming, "I'd buy it." Valentino left nothing to the imagination - figurative or literally - on what he was selling, with various larger than life posters that featured the moth scantily clad and in suggestive poses. Velvette was significantly more reserved, in comparison, with only a billboard advertising her perfume, named, Love Potion.

Quite frankly speaking, it was all a bit overstimulating.

Walking nonchalantly at his side, Alastor barely gave any of bombastic sights around him a second glance. He had made little commentary since they had set out from the hotel earlier in the day, falling silent as they had entered the Vees territory. Where all of this technology was practically invented yesterday, as far as Lucifer was concerned, Alastor had lived on Earth when most of the technology around them was still in its infancy stages. Advertising, likewise, was hardly new. Humans had been shouting at each other to buy this or to buy that since they'd first come up with the idea of selling a product. They may not have had flashing lights in the 1920s or 30s, but there had been posters, billboards, and radio ads.

Modern technology just made everything more... flashy.

Lucifer watched a group of sinners standing before an electronic shop, TVs stacked up in the window. Each TV was showing the same thing: an advertisement for the latest cell phone. He was a little surprised he still cared enough to be sickened as Vox straight up hypnotized the viewers into buying the phone. He shook his head in disgust a they passed group turned mob making a mad dash into the store. "Quite the salesman, Vox is," Lucifer commented, not trying to hide his judgmental tone.

Alastor snorted. He glanced at the group scampering out with their new cell phones as he drawled, "Vox has always had a... persuasive sales pitch."

It was Lucifer's turn to snort as they passed another poster of Vox, this time just the overlord and his VoxTech logo. His ever present slogan, Trust Us, curved around the logo. "You mean he hypnotizes people into doing what he wants." It was good to know in advance. No one had ever tried to hypnotize the Devil himself before and he wasn't keen to find out if it was possible.

"Hm," Alastor hummed in agreement. "Just so."

V Tower was easy to spot, even with all the noise going on in the background. The number of surveillance cameras also began to increase the closer they got to the trio's headquarters. Lucifer eyed one as it followed their trek down the street. "So much for keeping our arrival a surprise."

The redhead smirked, obviously pleased about something. Sing song, he assured, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

The blonde sighed. He was walking right into it, he knew he was. He was going to do it anyway, because damn his curiosity. "Oh?"

Alastor twirled his staff around his fingers like a baton. "All the cameras we've passed so far have been laughably easy to take out." With a practiced hand, he caught the staff, it's tip pointing at the offending camera. As they passed it, the little button on the side of it blinked from green to red. "Vox isn't paying attention to his little toys. Dear me, he must be away from his surveillance room."

Lucifer squinted at the camera dubiously. "You can tell we're not being watched, by, what? The camera not coming back on?"

Alastor laughed, short and cutting. "Oh, it's more than lack of interaction." He leaned in close, as if he were parting with a juicy secret. "I can tell when Vox is watching." His smile was sharp and cruel and said everything about how pathetic he found the overlord in question. "His attention has a certain... desperation to it."

Lucifer wasn't certain which part of all of that to focus on first: the fact that apparently Vox had flat out stalked Alastor to the point Alastor knew when he was being watched or the fact that Alastor clearly found the whole thing hilarious.

Father, these sinner could be fucked up sometimes.

Lucifer grinned, unable to pass up the opportunity he'd just been handed to needle the deer demon. "Didn't do much about the camera that recorded the fight."

Alastor's expression soured around the edges. His ears flattened as he resumed his previous position, snide as he pointed out, "Yes, well, I was a bit distracted by doing all the work. You should try joining in next time."

Alastor hadn't let him get involved in any of the attacks, insistent that he had everything covered, and they both knew it. Lucifer had let him because he always half hoped someone would kill the asshole.

Lucifer let the conversation drop with little more than a roll of his eyes, his mind drifting as he processed this new information. If Alastor could indeed tell when Vox was watching (which, creepy) and had been surprised by one of the attacks being filmed, one could infer that Vox was keeping the hotel under a certain level of constant surveillance.

After returning from their day out, he had hauled himself up in his room as he scoured the news for mention of any attacks. Had tracked down the news reports Rosie had mentioned. There had only been a number written reports and many more reposted written reports, with a single video dedicated to the subject. The video itself contained footage from the first attack, despite the news articles having all been posted fairly recently. Judging from the general comments under the articles and the video, few people were interested in the hotel itself beyond wanting to know if it still stood or not.

They had been lucky the fight had forced the drone to retreat or risk being destroyed. Distance had rendered the video quality poor enough his bleeding hand wasn't visible for all of Hell to see. Everyone already knew angels could be harmed, killed even. It wouldn't do for anyone to get it into their pretty little heads that angel weapons might work on him or Charlie, however.

(Lucifer tried not to think about the main image he had seen, again and again, in those news articles. Tried not to think about how reverent Alastor had looked like as he reached his hand out to the Devil, as if he were the only God the sinner would ever be able to touch. The framing of the image had made it appear like it was something so different than it had really been.)

Light pressure on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts. Out of the corner of his view, he caught Alastor withdrawing the hand he'd used to get his attention. It was a good thing he had, as it took a second for the sensor above the door to register their presence and trigger the door to open. He could only imagine what the media would have thought if a camera had caught Lucifer running right into the front doors of V Tower while lost in thought.

They stepped through the doors into a lobby themed in oranges and reds with purple accents. Hearts were definitely a motif, accenting arches and their support columns. Purple lanterns dotted every other column, more decoration than function. Lucifer took in the additional advertisements, some on the walls, some on a-frames. A large, flat screen tv displayed the VoxTek logo, but there was nothing currently playing on it.

There were a number of employees dotted around the lobby. A sheep sinner carrying a precarious stack of tablets raced off in one direction, while a horned rabbit sinner ran in another direction with an armful of clothing. A trio of sinners loitered off to the side, whispering back in forth in a frantic, hushed argument about what sounded like bottom lines and stocks. Near the back of the lobby, a blue and yellow sinner shouted about "messy actors" and "shitty wardrobes" as he frantically slammed his finger into the up button of the elevator.

At the center of the lobby, themed similar to the surrounding columns, was a welcome desk, currently being run by a white haired, fuchsia skinned sinner. Her tiny bat wings fluttered and drooped as she fielded calls. Distracted as she was, she failed to notice anyone had entered the lobby until Alastor and Lucifer had already reached the desk.

"One moment, please," she said to them, showing that she had at least noticed they were there. "Now where did Velvette say she wanted her calls sent to today...?" She bit her lip, finger hovering over one of a quite frankly insane number of optional extensions. Her eyes darted back and forth between two of them, before she shrugged and for all intents and purposes flat out guessed which one to send the line to. "Thank you for waiting," she said in a practiced, albeit polite monotone. "How may I... help..." She trailed off as she finally laid eyes on who had walked into the lobby, eyes going wide. She gaped as she recognized Lucifer but went completely blank as she took in Alastor's presence. The blonde was fairly certain that if he could read minds there wouldn't have been a single thought going through her head at that moment.

Lucifer fixed an equally practiced polite smile on his face. "Excuse me, miss," he began, only to pause when she failed to regain her senses, apparently still too flabbergasted by his companion. Brow twitching, he rapped his knuckles sharply upon the marble surface of the desk.

The noise seemed to do the trick, the sinner snapping out of her trance to jerk her head around. "Yes! Um." She swallowed, casting one last nervous glance at the Radio Demon. Between looking at Alastor and looking back at Lucifer, he could see her clawing her professional mask back on with the kind of experience that came from needing to remain calm when one's life was on the line. "How may I help you, sirs?" Her voice didn't even shake a little.

Noting the reaction and shelving the topic for later, Lucifer said, "Please let Vox know we are here to speak with him."

The sinner blinked, disbelief clear as day on her face despite her best efforts not to show it. "You..." Lucifer had the distinct impression the 'you' here was Alastor, even if she wasn't looking directly at him. "Wish to speak with... Vox?" Her tone suggested that had she not been speaking with Lucifer Morningstar, the literal king of Hell, she might have asked him if he was smoking something.

The noise, or lack there of, reached his ears. The general hustle and bustle of when they had entered had completely died down to be replaced by whispers and murmurs. Even without turning, he could feel all eyes on them. Lucifer glanced at Alastor, whose Cheshire Cat grin suggested he was internally laughing at all the fuss his being here was causing. His ears flicked to and fro as he followed different conversations.

Smile fixed in place, he affirmed, "Yup!" He waggled his fingers in the direction of her phone. "Now, please."

The receptionist stared off into the middle distance, the same blank look in her eyes he'd seen on soldier's who'd died at war. In the fatalistic tone of someone who didn't expect to have a job (or possibly be alive) in the morning, she said, "Whelp, this job sucked anyway."

Someone, a little too loudly, stage whispered, "Oh, I would not want to be in her shoes, right now."

Without turning, the receptionist flipped the person off with one hand while picking up the phone with the other. She pressed a seemingly random button as she put the receiver to her ear, a down right manic smile crossed her face.

Lucifer (and likely everyone in the lobby, as well) could tell the instant the phone was answered on the other end. A voice that matched the one's he'd heard in the advertisements bellowed, "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT INTERUPTING MY MEETINGS?"

Taking advantage of the fact that it sounded like Vox was a sinner who needed to breathe on occasion, the woman said, voice picture perfect cheerful, "The King of Hell and the Radio Demon are here to see you, sir."

A very long, audible pause, both on the phone and from the lobby around them. Then, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ALASTOR'S HERE??"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the redhead, incredulous. Seriously? What kind of history did these two have that Alastor showing up at V Tower was causing this kind of fuss? It was almost enough to make him forget he had been totally overlooked in that last statement.

Around them, every camera in the lobby suddenly came to life, zeroing in on them. Lucifer could tell by their synchronous motion, someone was likely watching them. Alastor's whole posture changed as he turned on one of the cameras, head tilted just so and smile lazy as he waved at it.

As one, those very same cameras began to sizzle and pop as they were all taken out.

Lucifer noted the redhead looked far too pleased with himself for that to have been anything other than deliberate. He knew Alastor hated being recorded, but that was just petty. Turning his attention to the receptionist, it was only because of his heightened sense of hearing that he was able to hear Vox, voice considerably more in control and at a much more reasonable volume, telling her to send them down.

"At once, sir." She set the phone down at leisure, as if she hadn't just had her eardrums tested by her boss shouting in them. Still looking at something only she could see, she said, "Vox will see you now." She pointed behind her to a set of elevators. "Please use the elevator on the right, as this is the only elevator with access to Vox's personal office." Placing her hands on the desk in a deceptively casual way, she finished, "Please have a hellish rest of your day."

"You, too," Lucifer said on reflex. He watched her as they made their way around the desk, throwing glances over his shoulder after they'd passed it. Under his breath, he asked of Alastor, "Think the hotel needs a receptionist?"

They had a front desk, didn't they? And a land line? Maybe? There was no mail service in Hell and Alastor had to get communications somehow, seeing as he refused to touch anything more modern than a radio. He'd check on it when he got back.

"Ha!" Alastor side eyed him. "Come now, your Majesty, you don't want poor Husker to be out of a job, do you?"

Lucifer belatedly remembered that apparently Husk doubled as not just their bartender, but also as their receptionist. He guffawed. One the one hand, Husk was indeed an great bartender, even willing to be a patient ear for one's troubles, if he tolerated them. He was certainly an exceptional judge of someone's character. On the other, was he a good receptionist? No offense meant to the avian feline in question, but, not in the slightest.

Lucifer added the mental note to check in on the receptionist later to his growing list of things to do.

The elevator opened without them pressing any buttons, suggesting that Vox, the creep, had other ways of keeping tabs on them. Lucifer and Alastor stepped in, the former not thrilled with how tiny the elevator was. There was just enough room for the both of them to stand side by side with little to spare. Insult to injury, the most obnoxious elevator music he had ever had the displeasure to have inflicted on him played over head. There were no buttons to chose from, but there seemed to be none needed as the elevator began its decent on it's own.

Lucifer reiterated: what a creep.

More to fill the silence and distract himself from the growing need to destroy the speaker putting out that horrible noise, he asked, "You ever been here before?"

In the same way most people would say, 'I'd rather die, thanks,' Alastor scoffed. "Absolutely not! I'd never inflict such poor company on myself willingly." Still, it wasn't hard to notice the little ways Alastor was on high alert, very much aware of the fact that he had walked willingly into enemy territory. His ego didn't allow him to worry, but it still paid to be alert to potential surprises.

Thankfully, the elevator didn't take long before reaching its destination. This new room was vast, with a color scheme nothing like the lobby's. Where the lobby was warm shades of orange, red and purple, this room was all cool shades of blue, red, white. The room was dark, only illuminates by dozens upon dozens of screens, most glowing with white light, a handful with red light. Red light filtered up from what appeared to be a deep pit surrounding a bridge-like walkway. Attached at the end was a round platform and attached to the platform was a seat surrounded by even more monitors.

This wasn't an office. This was a surveillance room.

Walking down the walkway was none other than the founder of VoxTek, Vox himself, striding along with all the confidence of someone who was at the top of their industry and knew it. His smile was wide and Lucifer immediately pegged it as the fake kind he usually saw on car salesmen. "Your Highness! Welcome!" Vox greeted. When he was close enough, he offered his hand out for a handshake.

Lucifer eyed it, just long enough to make it look like he wasn't going to take it. He didn't expect anyone to actually bow to him in greeting, but something about this guy left him half tempted to push for it now. Taking the hand, he allowed Vox to shake it to be polite.

When it came time to greet Alastor, the TV demon merely gritted his teeth and said, voice dripping with venom, "Alastor."

Alastor didn't appear bothered in the least by the rude greeting. Matching vitriol with amusement, he merely said, "Vox."

Lucifer looked from Vox, to Alastor, and then back to Vox. Man, he was so sorry he hadn't asked for more details on these two before they'd gotten here. Predicting this could go on a while if they were left to their own devises, Lucifer pointedly cleared his throat.

Vox's smile smoothed out, salesman mask back on place. "Yes, of course. Now, your highness," the sinner held out his hand towards the bridge, indicating he'd like them to come into his "office" proper. Lucifer didn't fail to notice there was only one seat down that way and it was meant for Vox. "May I call you Lucifer? Lucifer--"

Oh, absolutely not. They were going to have to nip that in the bud. Even Alastor, who had somehow become his rival for his place in his daughter's life and literally lived down the hall from him, was smart enough not to call him by name.

"The word you're looking for is 'Majesty'."

Vox paused, body tensing. The fallen angel got the impression he wasn't used to being interrupted. "Excuse me?"

Lucifer effected a bored stance, one hand settled on his cane as he explained, deliberately just this side of hostile, "Your Highness is how you would address my daughter." He looked Vox dead in the eye, making it pointedly clear he was deadly serious and there was going to be none of this BS about who was calling the shots. "Your Majesty is how you address your king."

Vox interestingly grew more calm in the face of his king's ire. "Of course, your Majesty," he said, immediately correcting course. He offered they move the conversation to the platform again. This time, Lucifer nodded. He followed as Vox lead the way, noting how the TV demon never quite turned his back on them, seemingly uneasy having Alastor at his back, even this deep into what was his own territory.

Lucifer took the time spent crossing the bridge to exam the pit around them. While the red light obscured the bottom itself, he was able to make out what appeared to be a very large tank behind equally large glass walls. Swimming around without a care in the world were what appeared to be several glowing sharks. He followed one as it made its way from one side of the pit to the other, able to sense there was nothing natural in their design. These creatures may have appeared to be alive, but they were all circuits and wires, through and through.

When they reached the platform, Vox showed sense by not going for his chair. He did stop in the center of the circle, a subtle attempt to regain some control of the situation. "Now, your Majesty," he began, just sincere enough it was impossible to tell if it was fake or not. "Please, tell me how I and VoxTek can be of assistance today."

Lucifer watched him. Watched the way his face was turned to Lucifer, but his eyes kept ticking to Alastor. Noted the way his body was tilted ever so slightly in the redhead's direction, as if drawn by a magnet he couldn't resist. Vox may have been putting on a show of talking to Lucifer, but he very much only had eyes for Alastor.

Someone was obsessed.

Someone was obsessed really badly.

Something that felt suspiciously like possessiveness reared its head deep within his chest. Lucifer had no more of a claim on Alastor than Vox did, but Alastor had chosen to live under his roof and was his daughter's hotelier. Finicky to the last, with all the loyalty of a feral, stray cat, Alastor was theirs.

Smile all teeth, eyes gold on red, Lucifer raised his free hand until they were right under where Vox's nose would be if he had one. He snapped his fingers, once, twice, sharply.

Vox nearly went cross-eyed, as he zeroed in on the offending digits, leaning slightly back.

"I know Alastor is very eye catching," Lucifer drawled, voice deepening as he let his displeasure seep in. "But you are talking to me. Do you understand?"

The TV demon had the grace to raise his hands, not necessarily in surrender, but certainly in a pacifying manner. It was easy to see him cycling through possible responses, as he fished for the one that would deescalate the situation the fastest. "I apologize, you Majesty, for any offense," he settled on, tone so polite it reeked of falseness.

Lucifer let him have it because it seemed Vox was finally cottoning on to the fact that there was a larger predator in the room then either of the two sinners. The reluctant king withdrew a step, pleased when Vox's eyes followed him, with not a single glance at Alastor. Now that he had the CEO's full attention, he decided it was time to get this show on the road. "I have a message for everyone in the Pride Ring. I've noticed how many people have a TV or a cellphone. I've also noticed VoxTek's reach." Lucifer said this last part only because it was true. However they had managed it, VoxTek has even managed to make it's way into the other rings.

For the first time since they'd arrived, Vox's smile actually appeared real. It put into stark light how fake the one he had been wearing up until this moment had been. "We would be thrilled to feature you on one of our television shows, your Majesty." He was smart enough not to look at Alastor, although it was obvious the next part was directed towards him. "Our viewership ratings have been going through the roof over the last few years. Statistics show that almost every household in the Pentagram City has a TV these days."

It was a good sales pitch. It might even have been true. The hotel had even had a TV, although Lucifer had explicitly forbidden anyone from bringing one into the palace, the exception being the live-in servants' personal quarters. Regardless, Vox hadn't said that to try and sale anyone on anything, he'd said it to rub it in Alastor's face that Lucifer had chosen to pass his message along over Vox's medium, instead of Alastor's.

Although they hadn't discussed it ahead of time, Lucifer found himself saying, in all the casualness of it having been a given, "If Alastor wishes to broadcast the message simultaneously over radio for our viewers who prefer the medium, he's more than welcome to do so, but we're not here to discuss that." He was fairly certain, even without turning around, that Alastor hadn't given it away that this was news to him.

The idea was reinforced by the way that Vox's eye twitched before he could regain control over it. "Yes, of course we want it to reach all of the intended audiences." Hands coming to rest at the small of his back, the TV demon attempted to steer them back on course. "Now, about the content of the message."

Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "Does it matter what the content is? Unless you prefer I go somewhere else to do this." Something that was also true. Mammon may lack any talent of his own, but he knew a cash grab when he saw one. He jumped onto the bandwagon that was television sets, TV shows, and moving advertisements as soon as the technology had hit Hell. The only reason none of his products where seen in the Pride Ring was because Lucifer limited his exposure to sinners were ever he could. If he gave him the green light, Mammon would topple VoxTek within a matter of months, if not less.

Vox paused, sensing he was in troubled waters, but not quite sure from which direction. "No, no. We here at VoxTek simply prefer to make sure that all the content we put out is content we stand by--"

Lucifer leaned in. If his tail were out, it would have been thrashing. "Are you saying your king could say anything VoxTek wouldn't support?"

Vox's screen left eye widened ever so slightly, the sclera going from a solid red, to more hypnotic red and black. It was there and gone in the blink of his eyes. His voice sounded glitchy as he gritted out a, "No."

"May I suggest something, your Majesty?"

Lucifer broke off what was quickly becoming a staring match with Vox to turn his attention to Alastor. The redheaded sinner had been standing behind him, seemingly content to watch the drama unfold from the side as Lucifer took the lead. Considering their rivalry, Lucifer was a little hesitant to allow Alastor to enter the fray, lest he potentially make things worse. However, he did appreciate the fact that these two knew each other better than he knew either of them.

Giving away the floor, at least for now, Lucifer gave a single short nod, for him to proceed.

Alastor stepped up until they were side by side.

Unable to resist now that the redhead had center stage, Vox immediately shifted to face him, Lucifer all but forgotten. He frowned, almost all pretenses of being a businessman all but thrown out the window. "What are you doing here, Alastor?" He snipped at the redhead. "I know you'll take any opportunity to move up in Hell, but I didn't take you as a kiss ass."

Alastor smiled at him, as if he were a short sighted child. "We hadn't gotten to that part, have we?" He gave his staff a little spin, noting the way Vox's eyes narrowed as he took in it's repaired state. "His Majesty asked me to stand with him as he gave his address."

Vox snorted, doubtful. "You'd never agree to appearing on screen." He actually started to laugh at the idea, until he realized Alastor was completely serious. "Wait, you said yes?" Gaping, he turned on Lucifer, seeming in his shock to forget who he was talking to. "What the hell did you do to get him to agree to show up on TV?" He glared back and forth between then, baring his teeth as he asked, "What, are you two fucking or something?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, lip curling back. In one fell swoop, Vox had just reduced himself to less than scum on the bottom of his boots. The only reason they were continuing this conversation was because he didn't feel like dragging Valentino down to the Greed Ring. "Maybe you just don't know how to speak his language," he snipped back, mouth moving before he could think about what he was saying or how much it gave away.

Before Vox could think too deeply on it, the redhead cleared his throat. For all that he preferred to be an unseen voice on the radio, Alastor did how to play his audience in person. "Let me sweeten the deal," he said, his hand running down the pole of his staff, eyeing the TV demon as he did so. "If you agree to broadcast our King's message, I'll do that one little thing you wanted me to do when you asked me to join you." He pointed the microphone end at Vox, the tip perilously close to his screen. "From when you agree to the end of the broadcast."

Vox stared at the microphone. Slowly, he raised his eyes until he met Alastor's. Something that looked suspiciously like sadness peaked through his anger, although Lucifer was certain they weren't supposed to see it. "You'd really do that. For him?"

Alastor withdrew his staff, tucking it under his arm. With his free hand, he reached out until a single claw rested under Lucifer's chin. Encouraging him to look up at him, Lucifer let Alastor tilt his head up and around to meet that fond expression on the redhead's face. "As his Majesty said, he knows how to speak my language."

Vox's eyes widened, a dawning expression coming over him. Real horror followed shortly behind it. "Holy shit," he whispered, staggering back. Lucifer tore his gaze away from Alastor's just in time to see him drop into his chair as if his strings had been cut. Dragging a hand down his face, Vox said with absolute certainty, "You actually made a Faustian Bargain."

He said it like this was his worst nightmare came to life.

Beside him, Alastor practically radiated smug triumph. It was all the affirmation he needed to give.

All of the fight hadn't been been cut from Vox just yet. Unhappy as he was with this set back, Vox was already trying to figure out how spin this in his favor. An elbow resting on each arm of his chair, the knuckles of his joined hands pressed to his lips, he countered, "Alright, Alastor does his thing and I'll broadcast whatever you want." His grin took up most of his screen, all pretenses of friendliness dropped. "Give me an hour to prepare the studio for you."

Before Vox could run off, Lucifer placed one last little condition on him. "Vox. Make sure the other Vees are in attendance." At the TV demon's questioning tilt of his head, the blonde merely said, "I wouldn't want anyone to miss my message."

Whatever Vox thought of this was hidden behind his joined hands. Instead of bothering with any of the usual ways out of the room, Vox transformed into a bolt of electricity, disappearing into one of the monitors.

Silence descended over the room. Then, "You two have history."

Alastor snorted. "You know how to use your eyes, your Majesty. I'm impressed."

Lucifer ignored the sarcasm and the insult in favor of observing his companion. The redhead's brows were furrowed with concentration, eyes closed and the very air around him warped to a noticeable degree. To Lucifer, a creature who had existed before physical matter, picking up on the way Alastor was enhancing certain electromagnetic waves around him was child's play. Hoping to kill two birds with one stone - learning more about their shared history while figuring out what the sinner was doing - the little king gave into his curiosity and asked, "What did Vox want you to do?"

Alastor didn't answer for a moment, whatever he was doing taking quite a bit of his concentration. Lucifer patiently waited him out. Several minutes ticked by with nothing by the hum of the monitors and the swimming of the sharks to keep him occupied. Cracking open a single eye a slit, Alastor reached a point in whatever he was doing where he could split his attention. Lucifer noted the pupil of the visible eye was a dial.

"Do you know how the technology in that silly little device in your pocket works?" Alastor asked by way of response.

The only things Lucifer tended to carry on his person were his cane, which was in his hand, and his cellphone, in case Charlie tried to call him (rare that it was). His cellphone, which was indeed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he eyed it. He knew it worked. He knew how to work it. Did he really need to know more? Besides, it wasn't one of VoxTek's cellphones, which made him less wary of it. Confused as to where this was going, he said, "It works, isn't that all that matters?"

"Such a pedestrian response." Alastor hummed, his microphone coming over to point at the little device. "You device works because it's able to transmit data via radio waves." He used his staff to gesture to the room around them, his eye falling shut now that he no longer needed to see to engage in the conversation. "Vox's specialty is electricity. He can interact with anything that uses it."

Lucifer remembered the way the TV demon had disappeared into his monitor, a chill running down his spine as he imagined what all else he could likely interact with.

"Radio waves, on the other hand, are my specialty," Alastor continued. This fit with what Lucifer had observed both in the current moment and back at the radio tower. "Usually I simply use them to connect myself to any radio in Pentagram City, but I can also enhance them." His edges of his smile tightened. There was no strain in his posture, but Lucifer was suspicious they might see hints of it if this carried on too long. "When Vox wanted to introduce wireless technology to Hell, he suggested that we team up. He would create the technology and the demand, and I would enhance his reach." His expression sharpened into a sneer. "I had no interest in being a mere tool in elevating him to the top."

Judging from the short interaction he'd observed, Lucifer was suspicious Vox had wanted much more than just to use Alastor as a tool. Vox had done little to hide the depth of his anger and hatred, and no one reached that level of emotion without having swung in the opposite direction first. Lucifer wondered if Alastor had really turned Vox down because of his own lust for power or if Alastor had seen the way Vox had looked at him and hadn't been interested.

Since that question was more likely to shut down the conversation then receive an answer, resigned himself to never knowing. Either way, he supposed he should be happy that Alastor had turned Vox down. Lucifer didn't want to think about what they could have accomplished if they had somehow found a way to work together.

Instead, he went with, "So, you can interact with anything that receives radio waves, then. Not just radios?"

In response, his cell phone dinged. The screen lit up to the lock screen, showing he had a new text message. Though it should be improbable, there was nothing in the place of a sender's name. Lucifer silently frowned at it, suspicious of who was the sender, but unwilling to open anything he didn't know who it came from.

As if sensing his distrust, Alastor crooned, "Go on. I promise it's not spam."

Lucifer was still wary, but he unlocked his phone. If this was malicious ware, Alastor was getting him a new phone.

The text message was indeed not spam. When he opened it up, there were simply two words:

You suck!

Lucifer glared at the message. "So, what? How would this help Vox?"

Alastor wagged a finger at him. "I'm currently high jacking every TV and cellphone with it's WIFI turned on. 666 News has never been more popular than it is right now." He paused, as if searching for something. "I excluded most of the phones in the hotel, but I do have Angel's."

Lucifer whistled, giving credit where it was due. That was honestly incredible. Terrifying in it's reach, holy shit, but incredible. A thought crossed his mind, an unholy grin slowly spreading across his face as he wondered, "Wait, if I reply to this, will the message go straight to you?"

"Ha!" Alastor shook his head, using his microphone to bop the top of Lucifer's hat. An impressive feat, considering his eyes were still closed. "Sorry, but I'm merely a transmitter and an amplifier. My abilities don't work that way."

Lucifer straightened his hat, half tempted to try anyway, just to see if it were true. Perhaps he would another time.

He was interrupted from any further questions by one of the monitors coming to life over Vox's chair. A moment later, the sinner himself reentered the same way he had left. Vox settled back in his chair, legs crossed and significantly more calm than when he left. "The studio will be ready for you in half an hour." He glanced once at Alastor, who had opened his eyes upon the TV demon's return, before returning back to Lucifer. "Let's relocate there now, shall we?"

Lucifer nodded. Instead of leading them towards the elevator they'd come down in, Vox merely joined them in the center of the platform. It became apparent why when the very middle suddenly began to rise, revealing there was yet more ways in and out of the surveillance room. Once they were back in the lobby, he led them over to elevator on the left, only sticking with them long enough to press the button of the floor with the studio, before pulling back out of it. "I'll meet you up there."

The door closed, once again leaving just the two of them and that horrible elevator music.

Lucifer glanced at Alastor. He still looked fine, but he was definitely putting out a lot of power. Feeling concerned (Alastor had agreed to do this for him) and wary of insulting him, he asked, checking in, "You doing okay, still?"

Alastor's ear twitched, the widening of smile showing he wasn't insulted, but rather amused. "Oh, don't worry your little head, I'll be just fine, your Majesty." Eyes aglow with more than just the power it took to carry out his promise, he added, "But I expect a reward when we return to the Hotel."

Lucifer felt a jolt run up his spine. The chain around his neck didn't manifest, but he could feel it tightening ever so. Alastor was invoking their deal, officially giving him his 12 hour notice. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, as Alastor had yet to actually invoke the deal since making it with him. Tilting his head so his hat hid his expression from both Alastor and the camera's gaze, Lucifer grumbled, "Should have known you'd do nothing for free."

The doors to the elevator opened, illuminating the redhead's sinister grin. A few sinners had paused to catch a glimpse of them as the doors opened, only to pale at the expression on Alastor's face. They quickly scurried off to carry out their tasks. Lucifer stepped through the doors, taking in the chaos in front of him. Numerous demons were running around, similar to the frantic energy he'd seen in the lobby, everyone getting the studio ready. A stack of papers and angry shouting from a blonde woman in a red dress (what was her name? It started with a K) suggested that something else had been planned for this hour, but had been cancelled due to Lucifer's abrupt interruption.

Lucifer might have felt bad, if it weren't for the fact that he knew without a shadow of a doubt this particular reporter was likely going to find some way to verbally eviscerate him later. He may not have remembered her name, but he did remember her particular brand of cutthroat journalism and the outright nasty things she had said about his daughter in the past. And her casual abuse of her co-reporter.

As if sensing she was being watched, the reporter turned her head a full 180 degrees, her smile down right unhinged and full of promises.

Not for the first time since landing in Hell, Lucifer almost wished he was still capable of creating Holy Water. There were some situations one just needed a spray bottle full of the hard core stuff for.

"Your Majesty," Vox pipped up, appearing from seemingly nowhere. The only reason Lucifer didn't jump was because he was still caught in a glaring match with a literal reporter from Hell. "This way, please."

Lucifer carried on glaring at her, right up until he physically couldn't. "I don't care who you've got sitting with me, I don't want her anywhere near me."

Vox followed his gaze, snorting when he saw who he'd been making a stink eye at. "Oh, no worries." He turned his own glare on Alastor. "I'll be copiloting right along with you."

Lucifer took in the two chairs. If he was sitting in one and Vox in the other, Alastor was going to be left standing. Judging from the gleam in the TV demon's eye, this was on purpose. Vox pulled out the seat on the right, the malicious reporter's coworker's usual seat, a smile so fake one would have to be blind to think it sincere spread across his screen. "Just a few more finishing touches, and then we'll be ready to begin." He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the bowels of the studio.

Lucifer blinked down at the seat. He could already feel the sheer number of eyes from the people in the studio, watching and waiting to see what he was going to do next. This was the first time almost every single one of them had ever seen him in person. He already hated everything about this. It was more than enough to make him want to retreat back to his room at the hotel and not come out for the rest of the month.

A gentle brush, an almost tickle, against the back of his neck, the feeling almost shockingly intimate, startled him. He inhaled sharply, not having noticed that he had stopped breathing. Instinctively, he turned his back on the growing crowd, his hand coming up to half way, before he aborted the motion. Turning to face him, Lucifer noted that Alastor appeared to have not done anything, standing in that default pose he favored. The only reason Lucifer could tell it had been him that touched him was from the way the redhead was watching him.

"Smile, your Majesty," Alastor murmured, voice pitched low and soothing. "The hardest part is almost over. I'll be with you the whole time."

How out of sorts had he been that even the Radio Demon was taking pity on him? That the reassurance was a comfort?

Lucifer breathed in slowly through his nose, breathing out even slower through his mouth. His racing heart began to calm, as he reminded himself that he had taken on far more terrifying beings than a room full of nosey sinners. This was all for Charlie and the safety of her dream, and for that, he could handle anything.

He dropped into the offered chair, the anticipation of a battle falling over his shoulders like a weathered cape.

A door opened off to the side, one that he hadn't seen anyone coming and going through. Stepping through were none other than Valentino and Velvette themselves. Velvette was typing away on her phone, muttering about an interruption to her photo shoot.

Valentino paused as he caught sight of Lucifer and Alastor. "Oh! If it isn't papito, himself!" The grin spreading across his face and choice of wording caused the blonde's skin to crawl. Sauntering over, Valentino nearly draped himself over desk, bringing his and Lucifer's faces far too close together. "You wouldn't want to hang around after this little show for some one on one time, now would you, mi pequeño rey?"

Lucifer had barely managed to do more than lean back in his chair, trying to escape the heavy stench of smoke and hard drugs that hung around the Overlord like a second skin, when a weigh settled heavily on his shoulder. He glanced up, finding that Alastor had stepped up beside him, hand placed in such a way that it wrapped possessively around shoulder and was beginning to snake around the back of his neck.

"Valentino." Alastor's filter was grating, a warning despite his pleasant smile.

Valentino lazily blew out a thin pink, heart shaped mouth of smoke. It hit Alastor in the face. His smile was filthy as he gave the deer demon a once over. "Don't be jealous, venado, my offer is still open to you, too."

The static glitch of a record screeching. It wasn't hard to pick out Alastor's distaste with everything from the offer to the Overlord himself. "Pass," he quipped back, shotting down the offer with extreme prejudice.

The pimp shrugged, viewing it as his loss. He turned his attention back to his original target. "What do you say, papito? We could--."

"Val." Vox's voice was barely recognizable through whatever filter he was using, the noise causing Lucifer to flinch as it grated at his ears.

Valentino pouted, somehow making it look aggressive. "Vox, querido, what have I said about using that tone with me?" He twisted around in a way that accented his figure. "Don't be upset because the Radio Demon's already turned you down."

"The show is about to start, Val," Vox pointed out evenly and sternly, despite the dig. Lucifer was beginning to pick up that when it was anyone other than Alastor, the TV demon might actually be able to keep a cool head. "How do you think it will look if we don't start on time?"

Valentino's pout to edge in the direction of a normal pout. "Spoil sport." He leaned back until he was facing Lucifer. He reached out, running a single finger along the underside of the blonde's chin. "Call me if you change your mind." Offer made, he thankfully, finally got off the desk and made his way back over to Velvette.

Lucifer was going to take a long, hot shower when he got back to the hotel. With acid. Regrow some nice, new skin that Valentino had never touched.

Alastor pulled him from his thoughts, giving the back of his neck a squeeze. Lucifer was almost sad for the loss of contact when he pulled his hand away so he could resume his prior position.

From where he stood, Vox watched the two of them, his expression unreadable. Several minutely later, the blue and black themed sinner dropped into his own seat, calling out to the cameraman as he did so. "How's the camera holding up?"

The cameraman peaked at Alastor, indicating this question was because of the redhead's tendency to take out anything with a camera around him. The sinner studied his monitor and then gave a thumbs up.

Vox clicked his tongue. "So," he gripped, irritation heavy in his voice. "You can be recorded without destroying my electronics."

Lucifer couldn't see Alastor from where he was standing almost directly behind him, could only hear the tapping on his fingers on his microphone. His taunt was malicious as he came back with, "We both know I can be photographed ...when I want to be."

The TV demon grimaced, the hit landing where it obviously hurt. He had little time to recover, as the cameraman began his countdown. As he hit zero, Vox's smile was back in place, just a lot less real.

"Top of the hour, folks!" Vox's voice was loud and boisterous, the rhythm and pace almost break neck. "Breaking news: in a rare interview, we're joined by none other than the King of Hell and the Devil himself, Lucifer Morningstar!" Vox leaned over, holding a hand out to indicate the fallen angel sitting beside him. "Please, give your people a little wave, your Majesty."

Lucifer resisted the urge to flip him off. Gave the camera a little wave with little enthusiasm.

Vox carried on, unphased, "Equally rare and unlikely to never happen again, fellow sinners, we also have radio talk show host, the Radio Demon himself, Alastor!"

Alastor didn't wave. He grinned straight into the camera, as if staring into the very souls of the views, eyes and teeth alight as reality itself threatened to warp around him.

The camera gave an alarming whine. The cameraman gave an alarmed cry as it threatened to give out.

Point made, Alastor seemed to remember he was supposed to be behaving. The camera stopped whining as reality returned to normal.

Vox's eye twitched. Smile strained along with his chipper tone, he said, "Your Majesty, I assume your being here is because of the attacks on the hotel your daughter is running?"

Lucifer gave him his own chipper smile. "You mean the attacks you only know about because of your voyeuristic habits?"

Vox laughed, a touch nervously. "You've clearly never dealt with the paparazzi, sire. One has to cross a few boundaries if they want to get the exclusive first."

Was that what he was going with?

Either blind to it or ignoring it, Vox glossed over Lucifer's offense, moving on to, "Please, tell us, do you have any idea who's behind the attacks? We're dying to know."

Lucifer highly doubted that. Or at least, doubted Vox cared. It was more likely he wanted the hotel to fail or get taken out, judging from his poorly concealed eagerness. He leaned his elbow onto the table, chin resting on his palm. "I'm not here to waste my time nor the listeners' with an interview." He took delight in watching Vox falter for the first time since the interrogation began. Over his shoulder, he called sweetly, "Alastor?"

Alastor's voice was just sweet and still more bloodthirsty. "Yes, sire?"

It was a show of how in tune Vox was with Alastor's moods that the TV demon was already beginning to sweat. He was doing a good job of hiding it, Lucifer would give him that. It was a pity he was sitting beside someone who could see right through him, when he chose to make the effort. Lucifer rose from his chair, the blue and black sinner nearly taking a screen full of wings as they manifested. "Be a doll and make certain Vox doesn't get any ideas. Like interfering."

"With pleasure." Alastor's words were nearly lost to his filter. The air around them crackled, the shadows in the corners of the room growing unnaturally dark. Vox dropped all pretenses of pretending he wasn't unnerved, leaning back as much to avoid the wings as to distance himself from the redheaded sinner.

Red and white wings fluttered, giving Lucifer the lift to make stepping up onto the desk look effortless. Papers flew everywhere and a few people made startled noises as they were hit with a few errant pages. His wings fanned out, allowing him to gracefully fall into a seated potion on the other side of the desk. He leaned to the side, placing his weight on the hand braced on the desk, head rolling until he was facing the other two Vees. "Velvette, if you value your life just sit there and look pretty for a bit."

Velvette narrowed her eyes to slits at him. "What the hell?"

Valentino waited to see what advice he had for him. When he received none, the pimp blew out a lung full of pink smoke. His expression turned sultry. "Nothing for me, pequeño rey?"

Lucifer didn't respond, not wanting to give the game away too soon. Relaxing his control over his form, he allowed the full extent of his corrupted, angelic form to appear on full display for all of the viewers to see. Far too many eyes focused in on not just the camera, but the cameraman and the sinners directly around him. Each of them instinctively shied away, hindbrains warning them they were out in the open and too exposed. Vox attempted to push his chair back, the area around the desk suddenly a little too hot, only to be stopped by the end of Alastor's strategically placed staff locking the chair in place.

Lucifer rolled his head back around, until he could easily stare into the camera. "Now, to clear up a few things: I could care less about sinner politics." He grinned in that way he knew looked off, even for a creature of Hell, leaning into the fact that he wasn't human and had never been human. "How you decide to throw away the one good thing you stupid, stupid little humans have going for you is up to you." His pupils were lost in a red glow as his temper spiked, the flame of hellfire blazing between his horns. " What I do take issue with is someone sending hitman to threaten my daughter over something as silly as potential lost contracts."

He slid off the desk, the sinners in front of him all collectively taking a step back. Only the cameraman stayed in place, too frozen to move. "Perhaps it's my fault, I've been away a while." He held out a hand, fingers searching until he found the particular contract he was looking for. "Perhaps it's yours for never reading the fine print." His hand closed around his desired target, a chain made of pink, translucent smoke, deceptively fragile, coming into being. One end led out the doors. The other end led off to the side, leading over to a certain Overlord.

Valentino's and Angel's contract.

The pimp held up his wrist, confusion evident on his face. "The fuck?"

Lucifer's grin was all teeth. He wrapped his hand around and around the chain until he had a nice, solid grip on it. Without warning, he viciously yanked on the chain.

Valentino was pulled so hard, his shoulder nearly popped out of its socket. The pimp yowled like a cat dropped into pool as he was sent crashing to the floor. Lucifer didn't give him the chance to recover, reeling him in like a particularly resistant fish, the Overlord shouting and cursing as he was dragged across the floor. The Devil gave no quarter, even when he had him where he wanted him, pressing his heel into Valentino's back and twisting moth's arm until it was just short breaking.

"You see," Lucifer carried on, tone bored and voice raised over the slew of insults being thrown his way, "There's this little clause in your contracts that say I have the final say in every single one of them."

"You little shit!" Valentino hissed, twisting in a way that should be impossible for someone who purportedly had a spine. "We had nothing to do with the attacks on that shithole your hija is running."

Lucifer pulled on the chain until he could hear the shoulder pop. The sinner's claws dug into the ground beneath him, glare baleful. "Maybe," Lucifer said, almost nonchalant. "But you're the lowest kind of sinner: the kind that profits on selling human flesh and locks people into contracts so they can never escape."

The moth demon snarled, composure gone. "Every one of those whores came to me willingly. I made them stars. They would be nothing without me."

The Devil peered down at him, unmerciful. All of Valentino's sins where on display for him to see and judge and he found him wanting. "Nothing gives you the right to abuse another human being."

Lucifer returned his attention to the camera. He wrapped his free hand around another section of the chain, pulling the links tight between his two fists. "Let everyone remember that your little deals mean nothing if I say so."

Without further ado, he pulled almost effortlessly on the chain, Valentino's strength that of a kittens next to his. A link, just off center, gave, pulling apart until it shattered. Each one of the links similarly followed suit, falling from his hand like crystalline shards. They vanished like the smoke they had originally appeared as before they could hit the ground.

Valentino's arm, free of the chain, fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Lucifer stepped off his back, releasing him. Stepping around the desk this time, he held his hand out to Alastor. The Radio Demon blinked back at him, something delighted behind his gaze.

It looked a little like victory.

He took Lucifer's hand.

"The Hazbin Hotel and every one of its residents are under my protection," Lucifer declared into the stunned silence, voice projected loud and unearthly, raising the hair on ever sinner's head, save the one in front of him. He looked upon each of the sinners in the room, gaze coming to rest on the camera lens. "I will not have mercy upon anyone looking to cause my daughter anymore trouble."

To his right, a portal appeared. Without another word, he stepped through it, pulling Alastor along with him.

As everyone continued to stare, the portal vanished and they were gone.

tbc

Translations:

-Papito: Little daddy

-Mi pequeño rey: My little king

-Venado: Deer or venison. I chose this word as a way for Valentino to make a dig at the fact that Alastor's demon form is a type of food source.

-Querido: Darling, used if you love or like someone. Chosen as a shoutout to the affair they're clearly having.

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #deer lucifer fic #someone on twitter pointed out how wifi works #and then i looked into how cellphones and wifi works #and couldn't resist playing around with it #why stop at playing with lucy's powers #when i can play with everyones?#ps i only took a semester of spanish #so sorry if i botched anything #i did double check everything #so here's hoping its all fine #i'm going to have to add so many new tags to ao3 when i post this chapter #lmao

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

Note

[Corrupted Anon]

Hold up— Ale, Rudy, Sham marriage, belt pulling, pegging… 🙂😐😏 ohhh~~ I have been inspired and fed. It’s 12:30am so it may not make sense.

Stoic!Reader again~ Until people want me to change it ofc. (p.s 141 are or aren’t already in a sexual relationship with stoic!reader, up to your minds) personally for me they are bc I’m a whore, but again up to anyone’s mind.

——————————

Well, well, well.

Stoic!Reader and 141 are working along Los Vaqueros once again. Of course this time the op was a bit— well, say to the least, odd. The mission was simple a quick in-and-out(*cackles*) grab and secure the target and those who maybe carrying vital information but that catch was, in order to access entry of said objective, married couples only.

And let’s say they don’t enjoy the fact Ale and Rudy are married because odd reasons, they need a feminine figure.

That’s where you come in. (literally)

Posing as the soft, delicate and beautiful significant other of both Ale and Rudy, recently married. Of course they let you into the establishment but unfortunately infidelity women took one look at your husbands and started to swarm them the moment you had spotted the target.

After securing the target and waiting for 141 to go and fetch said target, you couldn’t help get a dark feeling within you as you watch your ‘husbands’ get attacked with flirtatious women.

So as a good spouse, you march your way down the stairs, pushing against those skanks, I mean ladies, grab Ale and Rudy by their belts and lead them towards the bedroom you three were given.

Throwing away the radio to the side since the mission was already a success, you push both men onto the bed, not caring about their confused yet scared looks they give one another. Searching through your bags and draws you found it, your instruments of punishment.

Sauntering towards Ale and Rudy, you set off rules and safe-words. (Don’t have to read this part but for most, consent is sexy, pls dont block me)

Grabbing Ale by his belt you draw him in, his back towards your frame, the noise of his belt being undone and zipper being opened makes Rudy’s body tense as he watches his husband being undressed in front of him. It’s for the mission you would purr at them but in their shocked and growing horny-ness they silently agree as Ale is fully undressed.

His throbbing cock already turning a bright red from the situation you’ve put them in. Your hand clasped against his fleshy appendage and start to stroke him, soft wisps of whimpers leaving his lips before letting out a load moan as you squeeze his cock hard at the base, your voice sultry and demanding as you tell him to look at Rudy. “Don’t let your eyes leave your husband, not polite to ignore him, is it?”

Ale meekly gives a nod before you return to stroking his cock in your hands, watching Rudy slowly palm himself while watching you touch his beloved Ale, making them both slowly turn putty in your hands.

Your other hand already working its way to Ale’s rim, covered with lube that you’ve prepared out, stretching and toying to make sure the rubber toy could slide in.

You watch as Ale’s legs tremble as you increase your pace, stroking him faster and squeezing him harder while adding another finger inside his ass. His hand landing on top of your head as he tries to keep himself upright, the pleasure already bearing him to his first climax, his eyes still on Rudy who matches your pace with his fist on his own cock.

You watch both men unfold before you. Their cum flying onto the floor, their bodies and the bed.

Well shit. Perhaps the three of you need to do what sham throuples do, gotta make it believable, right?🫢

CORRUPTEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

MIS AMORES

MIS ESPOSOS

I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR THEM

@lyralein

FOR YOU BESTIE

#asks #just corrupted anon

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jung-koook · 3 months

Text

I don't care what you think or don't think but you crossed the line when you come to my blog and question my love and admiration for him. I've literally been here since 2012 waiting for them to debut and do you really think I'd be here because pretty face and body??? while I have to deal with disgusting people like you??? because this isn't the first time I've received hate on the internet. I'm literally tired mentally and physically having to deal with this here. there are literally 101839180101 posts of mine here on my blog talking about my story with bangtan and talking about that I'm not just here because I love and admire them as an artist but also for everything they've done in my life. I don't know what hole you came out of but go back there and please block me first, because I'm going to do the same to you (reasons why i'm replying to your message like this)

not agreeing with me is one thing, I literally knew this would happen that's why in my post I stated that I thought it wasn't a popular opinion/thought. I'm open to discussion about anything I've opined here, any thoughts I've shared here. but it's another thing completely different if someone came here to say that I'm not a real jeongguk or bangtan fan. this is literally disrespectful to my blog and everything that bangtan means to me. jeongguk literally saved my life not just once and they literally changed my life to something better. never again will I let anyone dare to come to my blog and question how important jeongguk is to me, to my life. this will be the first and last time you do something like that and if you try again you will be ignored as it should be happening now but you make me so angry.

"y'all have a problem with everything Jungkook does from the artists he collabs with to his friends." I'm here for jeongguk and not because of the people he's friends with or because of the people he collabs with. but if jeongguk or any other member collabs with a problematic artist I won't stay silent. I said that I think usher is an great artist, but I won't support someone who posts posts in favor of i*rael. if it were in the 90s I would even understand, since it was much more hard to get information there, but in 2024 this is not something I will accept. but literally my post wasn't about that, it's you who seems stupid and can't understand.

"Someone just said they think his features for seven and 3D felt calculated by the company and u shamelessly posted it ." I posted that just like I'm posting your stupid message. my blog is open to discussions. or it was because I don't know how long I'll have the mentality to put up with stupid people like you. calculating something is not a bad thing……. this is something normal lmao. literally before they release an album everything is calculated to be perfect, even the day they release the album is something calculated. why would jeongguk or bighit calculating a collab be a bad thing???? In my reply I just said "there are collabs that jeongguk chooses and there are collabs that bighit chooses". in my reply I said "there are collabs that jeongguk chooses and there are collabs that bighit chooses and that some may be random for us but that's not a bad thing". jeongguk and bighit can very well think and calculate how much a collab can help him as an artist. like I said, even if we don't like a collab or remix, we have to understand how important this can be for the success of their music internationally. bangtan managed to be one of the biggest groups in the world on their own, but even so there are many countries that don't want to play them on the radio or elsewhere if they shouldn't sing in english or collab with another international artist. but I think this conversation is too deep for someone stupid like you.

"Like u claim to be JK biased but I barely see you talking about him as an artist" it's not my fault that you don't read the things I post on my blog. but you seem so stupid that I think this is your particular problem. please fix your particular problem.

"BTS who does the most work in the studio and not a single post from you about Jungkook being nominated or winning awards" by coincidence I posted one today but it's true that I don't post everything because I have a life outside the internet. sometimes I forget to post updates from them but sometimes I have such nice people who come to my inbox to let me know about it. even though they don't need to do it, they do it because they're just nice people, but I don't think you know what it's like to be a nice person.

"PLEASE FREE HIM FROM Y'ALL LOL . THAT MAN HAS SANE FANS OUTSIDE THIS CULT LIKE FANDOM" I got this now lmaooooo you might just be a solo stan lmaoooo 😭😭😭 now I understand where this stupid message came from.

please stop annoying people and jeongguk too. jeongguk told us to live our lives until he comes back so since you are such an incredibly big fan of jeongguk, follow his advice and live a little. life isn’t just about the internet, okay? free jeongguk a little bit of this negativity, maybe after breathing some fresh air and distracting yourself with your life outside the internet you'll be less stupid. sometimes really spending too much time online can make people stupid, maybe it's not 100% your fault alone. i hope your gets well soon! I've seen many stupid people getting better, I hope the same will happen to you. ♡ you wanted my attention and I gave it to you now bye ;*

and I will stop talking about this subject. jeongguk worked really hard on his album and I hope people will always give him all the credit for everything he did for this amazing album 🥹I still think that standing next to you deserves much more recognition. standing next to you is literally a queen!!!! what jeongguk did with this song (and with everything he sings) is literally something out of this world! his vocals are so unique! jeongguk is unique and standing next to you is one of the songs that shows this clearly to anyone.

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ilikeyoualive · 1 year

Text

Part 1 of the 'Soap needs to learn how to ask for help' chapter, lol. I headcanon this explosives-obsessed man as someone with issues with always trying to prove himself, especially as the only human working in the field with literal supernatural creatures. That could give any man a complex, lol. And if you're interested in learning more about this AU, check out my Main Masterlist!

Warnings: Blood and injury, Bombs, Trapped under rubble

Word Count: N/A

Rule #3: You Have Nothing to Prove. They Know You're Human and Thus Have Human Limitations In the Field so Don't Be Ashamed to Let Them Know When You Need Help.

Three or four TF-141 members are already in the field, tasked with bringing in some criminal for questioning about the bigger fish that the task force is looking to catch.

The house that the criminal is holed up in is rigged to explode via IED in the basement, although they don't realize it at first. But when they do notice, it’s already too late and the criminal hits the detonator and the entire building goes up with the team inside. Ghost had all but thrown Soap away from the criminal and out of the kitchen (which is directly above the bombs) as the explosion happened, but the ground gives way under Soap’s feet and then he’s falling.

He wakes up to voices coming through the radio in intervals, it’s Ghost and Roach. They’re communicating with Price, occasionally asking Soap if he copies before devolving into planning mode again.

Soap raises his arm to reach for his radio and hisses, glancing down at his side, which was riddled with cuts of varying length and depth since it had been clipped by some debris as he fell. He’s bleeding sluggishly but steadily, his side already coated with red. It’s not an artery, so Soap’s not in danger of bleeding out right away, but there is a chance that he’ll go into shock if he goes untreated for too long.

Ghost had been burned by the explosion and is sluggishly healing, he's also straight-up impaled by some pipes that are nestled between the caved-in ceiling and the rubble below, limiting Ghost’s movement. Meanwhile Roach is sporting a few burns himself and is pinned from the waist down by debris, so he can’t shift to get out without severe discomfort.

They’re well and truly stuck for the time being -at least until backup arrives to dig them out- so Soap decides to write off his wounds as minor because clearly they already have enough to deal with as is without the resident human complaining about a comparatively minor injury that’s not even an immediate threat to his life.

But as they sit there, the bleeding doesn’t stop, and Soap realizes that he’s probably gonna die at this rate, he’s already a little woozy.

Soap asks Price for an ETA update on their backup, which is another ten minutes and that’s not mentioning how long it’ll take to dig them out. So, with great reluctance, Soap tells the team that he may have misjudged his initial damage report and that he’s lost quite a bit of blood and losing more as they speak, none of his team members are pleased about this development.

Ghost tells Soap to stay awake before he goes radio silent, all Soap can hear is a faint shriek of metal and the thud of moving rubble as his mind goes foggy with blood loss. His vision swims and the last thing he sees is a dark, emancipated form crawl into his little pocket before he passes the fuck out.

Cue him waking in the hospital feeling like death warmed over with a pissed off Ghost and Gaz lurking in the room waiting to chew him out while Roach and Price linger in the background looking wholly unimpressed and disappointed in equal measure.

#cod cryptid au #cryptid tf 141 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #modern warfare ii #modern warfare 2022 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty mwii #cod mw 2022 #mw2 2022 #simon riley #john mactavish #ghost #soap call of duty #soap cod #ghostsoap #ghost x soap

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hazbin-hazwas · 2 months

Text

Take Me or Leave Me

Rating: T

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Vox/Original Character(s), Vox, Original Character(s), Valentino, Rosie, Alastor, Zestial, Mentioned Velvette, Mentioned Charlie, Major Original Characters, Original Characters-Centric, Confrontations, Love Triangles, Love Squares, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Business, Rivals to Lovers, Established Relationships, Complicated Relationships, Lies, Threats

Description:

Vega (Vincent), a singer Overlord who has consistently been pestered by Vox to join the Vees, is once again approached by him with the same offer. However, there's a new pre-tense: The Vees are planning something big, and Vox doesn't want them to get caught in the crossfire. For the first time, Vega genuinely considers his offer, but someone else steps in to stir the pot:

Vera, a woman who Valentino so hatefully refers to as "Vox's bitch."

Or:

I looked at my OC, looked at @timeslugarts's OC, and went "Oooo, the girls are fighting."

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54235564

Notes: Thank you SO MUCH to @timeslugarts for letting me use Vera (and Jericho) for this, I had SUCH a blast writing these characters. Additionally, a HUGE thanks to @beansisarat7 and @starchaserbaby for beta-ing this. Reblogs are VERY much appreciated and I enjoy any feedback that you may have ^.^

The bi-monthly Overlord Meetings weren’t mandatory - far from it, actually, if Alastor’s prior disappearance and Valentino and Velvette’s consistent absences were anything to say about it. However, that didn’t mean it wasn’t in any Overlord’s interest to attend. The Vees shared information, anyway, so as long as one of them showed up things were usually fine, and Alastor was… Alastor. But Vega preferred to stay up to date on what other Overlords were doing, so she found herself sitting to the right of Rosie at an office Carmilla Carmine owned.

This meeting wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, save for some surprisingly positive updates on the Princess’s passion project. Now, they were going around the table, sharing any updates they had on their own territories or concerns they had towards others’ actions. As per usual, Vega had none either way - she doesn’t have any permanent territory and the only Overlords she had to be concerned with were the Vees and Alastor since they have (an uncomfortable) amount of control over whether her music got out into the rest of the Pride ring. Vox had nothing new to say, though, and Alastor was too busy with the Princess to focus too much on his radio show anyway.

All she wanted to do was exit this building and go back to cannibal town with Rosie for a cup of tea. These meetings were almost never enjoyable, especially when the time could be spent doing literally anything else.

Finally, just as Carmilla was about to conclude things, Vox spoke up. Vega barely bit back a curse.

“Actually, just before we leave, I wanted to let everyone know that Valentino is throwing a party later. It’s a much more quiet event than what he’s used to - Velvette and I made sure of it - so the… sexual content,” he glanced not-so-subtly at Alastor, “You all are used to will be mostly toned down. Think of it as a bonding exercise of sorts. And, of course, some more higher-class sinners will be in attendance as well, so some souls are up for grabs. I mean, who would the Vees be if we didn’t have something to offer?”

It’s silent for a moment as Overlords look at each other and consider the offer. The air isn’t tense, no, far from it, but it’s definitely not relaxed, either.

“What i’ thine catch, Vox? Surely, thou might not but summon something from these events,” Zestial asked, speaking the collective thoughts of the rest of the room.

“No catch,” Vox says, using his signature charming smile. “It’s simply an invite to relax and return to a semblance of normalcy after last month’s failed extermination.” There’s a pregnant pause, and Vega rolls her eyes while fighting back a smile. She had a soft spot for his theatrics, as annoying as they were at times. “ But! I know how secretive this group can be, and what better place to form new alliances than a formal event? Hell beat the Angels in a failed extermination, surely there are new business opportunities - and new dangers - on the rise. As I said before, who would the Vees be if we didn’t have something to offer?”

The ‘something’ dipped into his distorted tone and, for a split second - she wouldn’t have been surprised if most of the other Overlords in the room missed it - his left eye swirled.

“You don’t have to accept now. It’ll be held at Vee Tower at 8pm, tonight. Drinks and catering will be provided if any of you decide to show up.”

And with that, Vox sits down and folds his hand. It’s silent for a second again, and Vega takes the moment to look him over. His hands are folded and, on further inspection, his usual charming smile is much more akin to a smirk. He’s up to something. But then Vox makes eye contact with her and raises a brow so she looks away at Carmilla.

Carmilla clears her throat. “Alright, then. Now, if no one else has any last minute announcements,” she pauses, leaving room for someone to interject, but when no one does, she continues, “Then this meeting is adjourned. I will see you all either later tonight or in two months.”

Vega doesn’t waste time standing up and exiting the room. She feels Vox’s eyes on her as she leaves and ignores the urge to turn around and tell him off. She waits by the stairs for Rosie and Alastor to leave as well. Vox leaves last, not counting Zestial, who most likely stayed back to talk to Carmilla alone like he usually does. They make eye-contact again, though Vox is forced to look away first this time to make it to the elevator in time. She looks away just in time to see Rosie walk up to her with Alastor in tow.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya thinkin’ of takin’ the stairs down! This is a very tall building, y’know, and there are betta ways to avoid claustrophobia. You have wings for cryin’ out loud! Just open a window!” Rosie laughs, placing a hand on Vega’s shoulder. “I’m just kiddin’ with ya, I know you have a reputation on the line just like the rest of us, you gotta save the flyin’ for performin’, I’m sure. Now, are we still on for tea? Because I’m definitely not flyin’!”

Vega smiles - it’s hard not to smile with Rosie - before sighing. “Unfortunately, no. I think Vox is up to something, so I’m going to get ready for tonight to see if I can learn more.”

“Honey, when isn’t Vox up to something? Why, just ask Alasta, I’m sure he could tell you all about Vox’s shenanigans!”

“Yes, but that would require Vox’s shenanigans to be worth telling, now wouldn’t they, my dear?” Alastor jokes as well, leaning into Rosie.

Vega laughs quietly compared to their loud laughter before continuing, “True, but it’s always nice to be ahead of the game. The last thing any of us needs is to be caught off-guard because we underestimated him.”

“Oh, just come ova for tea and we’ll get ready togetha. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to any sort of party outside of Cannibal Town, it could be a’ good use to get out again. What about you Alasta, will you be joining us?”

Alastor laughs and shakes his head. “As if I’d ever set foot in Vee Tower. I’m afraid I must be off back to the Hotel, anyway. The Princess can be quite annoying if people aren’t back by the time they said they would be.”

“Ah, well, then I guess it’s just us girls tonight,” Rosie says with no disappointment - it’s not like it was hard to predict Alastor was going to say no - before hooking her arm with Vega’s and turning the group in the direction of the elevator. “Now, let’s get going. I’m parched!”

Vee Tower is weirdly empty, Vince notices, as he and Rosie enter. There was always someone working either in or around Vee Tower, so the fact that there’s only a few people present, each of which looked in the other direction or helped direct them to the party, felt off.

It’s a long elevator ride to the top of the building, but Rosie makes it all the much shorter with her chatter. It was like she never ran out of things to talk about. In terms of outfits, Rosie was wearing a dress with a layered, black skirt. The top layers are lace, showing off a branch pattern that Vince was sure she made herself. He would have deemed the off-the-shoulder sleeves as out of character if they hadn’t held the same embroidery as the lace and looped in front of her. There was a red, metal band that acted as a sort of belt and accentuated her high waist. It probably wasn’t considered ‘semi-formal,’ but when Vince pointed that out, she waved him off with a smile and said, “Live a little, wontcha?”

Vince went for something slightly more toned down. He’s wearing a long, blue, almost Victorian jacket with silver accents. It was backless so that his wings could breathe, meaning that he didn’t actually bother putting on a shirt. Instead, he buttoned the jacket in the middle and wore high-waisted, black trousers. His blue heeled boots and silver accents matched the jacket. He brought one of his microphones with him - the mic gloated in-between two angular prongs - although it really functioned more as a staff. When Rosie saw him grab it, she joked that between the switch in presentation and the mic, Alastor might as well have joined them.

Finally, the elevator dings and the doors open. Rosie cuts herself off, mid-sentence and steps onto the floor. Immediately, she notices the small amount of Overlords present - obviously there’s the Vees, but Zeezi and Zestial were also present, and while not technically Overlords, Odette and Carla are floating around the general vicinity of Zestial as well.

“I’m gonna go say hello to Carmine’s girls if that’s okay with you, Vincent. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to talk to them and just look at how much they’ve grown! Honestly, Carmilla needs to start making ‘em sleep in the drawer, y’know, get ‘em to stop growin’.”

Before Vince can respond, Rosie unlinks their arms and makes their way over. Zestial broadens his chest when he notices someone talking to them, but immediately relaxes upon realizing who it is. Carmilla must have asked Zestial to watch over them while they were here, and Vince doesn’t blame her. Who in their (non-horny) mind would willingly stay around Valentino.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you around here,” a voice says into Vince’s ear.

Vince stifles a flinch while he fans away the pink smoke emanating from behind him. 'Speak of the devil.' “I have personal business I need to attend to with the Vees,” he lies.

“Hm? And what could be of trouble now?”

Vince turns around. Valentino didn’t even bother dressing for the theme, still wearing the same stockings and pimp-jacket he usually wore. He assumes that Valentino doesn’t see him roll his eyes. “I need some dancers for a couple concerts.”

“And what do you have to offer me, instead?”

“I continue to give you business instead of finding some souls of my own.”

Vince could have been nicer about that, he supposes, but he wasn’t too keen on dealing with Val’s bullshit tonight. Val’s eyes narrow for a second before he takes another pull from his cigarette.

“How many are you looking for this time?”

“Twenty, maybe. Ten at the least.”

“Hm. Alright, then. I’ll send them by you by the end of the week. The usual spot, I presume?”

“Of course.”

Just when Vince thought that Val would leave him alone, he smirks and blows some more smoke in Vince’s face. This time, he curls his wing around to block it from reaching him.

“Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more of a dancer yourself, ruiseñor ,” he all but purred, looking Vince up and down. “You have fantastic hips . For a man, maybe not, but for Vega -” he reaches to trail his free-hand down Vince’s side, but Vince raises his microphone to block him.

“Don't touch me,” he bites.

They glare at each other, neither moving from their positions. The smoke from his cigarette swirls around them and Vince can’t help but let the surrounding air chill.

“H-H-Heyyyy! What’s going on here?” Vox’s voice breaks the tension as he slips in next to them.

Almost instantly, Vincent relaxed. He lets Vox move his microphone away from Val, who’s arm he also moves back.

Immediately, Vince notices Vox’s change from his usual attire. The navy blue with electric pinstripes he usually donned was replaced with a sparkling turquoise. His red bowtie deepened in shade but remained nonetheless, this time with gloves to match. The top hat, of course, stayed the same. It’s simple, at least by Vox’s dorky, overdramatic standards, but it somehow works.

“Tonight is not a night for fighting,” he says, looking between the two of them. “Val, why don’t you go talk to Velvette? She said she wanted to have a word with you about your outfit.” He’s more hostile now that he’s only addressing Valentino, causing Vincent to force back a laugh.

Val crosses his arms and pouts, all the while still glaring at Vince. “Fine,” he states, taking another pull. “But be careful,” he teases, getting in Vox’s face, “You don’t want your bitch getting upset.”

Vincent tilts his head, unsure of what Val is implying as he walks away. Vox groans and mutters something indiscernible under his breath about Val before turning to Vince.

“Drinks,” he implores, gesturing towards the bar. His charming smile is back, although not as wide. Vince ponders for a second if it’s genuine.

Vincent returns the smile, ultimately unable to tell, and turns in the direction of the bar. Vox puts his arm around Vince’s back as they walk together. Vince lets him.

The bar is decently crowded, but a group of three sinners move out of the way when they see them coming. Vox leans an arm on the bar and orders two martinis. Vince mirrors him for a second before leaning his back against the bar and placing his microphone between them.

“It’s been a while since Vincent has made an appearance. It’s only been Vega for at least a year, now,” Vox jokes

It’s a shallow attempt at breaking the ice, but Vince chooses to humor him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Vox at an Overlord meeting. It’s been Velvette for at least six months now.”

Vox laughs. Vince is unable to tell where it’s coming from. “Yeah, well, what can I say? VoxTek has been busy with the Extermination having been moved up and all that jazz.”

“So have I.”

The bartender comes back with their drinks. Vox immediately takes a sip of his, but Vincent only pulls him closer.

“How so?”

“TV and porn aren’t people’s only source of entertainment. People also enjoy listening to music and going to concerts. I spent all of the six months leading up to Extermination Day touring the city.”

Vince was surprised Vox didn’t know - half of his dancers on that tour were Valentino’s and at least a fourth of the outfits he had worn were from Velvette’sSex on the Beach collection. Still, Vox looks as though this was his first time hearing about it. He hums in acknowledgement and looks away from him. Vince, content with the silence - their conversations are never good for long, anyway - looks down at his martini and contemplates actually drinking it.

“Do you ever dream of touring the other circles?”

Vincent’s head snaps up to look at Vox, again, who is still looking away from him. He looks distant. “Pardon?”

“The other circles. Greed, Envy, Lust, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, do you ever dream of touring them? Seeing what they have to offer? Expanding your reach, your power, your career?”

Finally, when Vox finishes speaking, he looks back at Vincent. For a second, Vince forgets what he came here for. There is something undoubtedly genuine in Vox’s eyes and it actually scares him. Everything about Vox, all of the way down to his name, is fake. So why is he being real ? Vincent looks away first, this time.

“Doesn’t matter. Sinners can’t leave Pride,” he responds. Hell was Hell, after all; even dreams have their limits and contorts into nightmares eventually.

Vox hums again before putting a hand on Vince’s shoulder. Vince almost doesn’t let him.

“Do you want to?”

The reality of why he’s here hits Vince like a truck. He pulls away from Vox as he collects his thoughts. “Why did I even begin to think that you would just want to talk? You even said you wanted to form alliances,” Vincent says, more to himself than Vox.

Vox stands up straight. “Technically, we already have an alliance, this would just be making it official.”

“You provide me with dancers and clothes every once in a while and in return I let you use my songs in your commercials and movies. That isn’t an alliance, that’s polite business.”

“Just hear me out for a second,” Vox asks, voice partially digitalizing.

Vincent looks Vox over. His fake persona was back. Maybe Vince shouldn’t have reacted the way he did, then this conversation could be pleasant and one of them might actually have a chance at changing their minds. He narrows his eyes.

“You have 30.”

“You have a lot of inference. Specifically, you have a lot of influence in the realm of entertainment. The Vees do entertainment. Movies, social media, television, fashion, and you bring music . It works well, together. We would work well together.”

“Twenty.”

“It’s obvious that you’re powerful. You let this,” he grabs Vince’s microphone, “Inhibit your powers or use it as a crutch or something , but imagine what you could do if you fully unleashed. I want to help you with that. The Vees want to help you with that. You don’t keep many secrets, obviously you must be one dangerous opponent if your demon form has yet to see the public’s eyes.”

“Five,” Vinent counts, yanking his staff out of Vox’s hand and already turning around.

“I want you with us.”

Vince freezes.

That’s… New.

“You are everywhere . If it’s not Angel Dust or that damn hotel on a billboard, it’s you. And I don’t know when that stopped being annoying, but it did. I want it to stay that way. The Vees have a plan. Valentino may not like you and Velvette may not really talk to you, but I want you to be a part of it. Don’t make me hurt you, Vincent - Hell needs more Angels like you.”

Vincent turns around, mouth agape. Suddenly, if feels as though the rest of the party - the rest of Hell - doesn’t exist, He got what he came here for: a confirmation that the Vees were up to something and even an, albeit loose, idea of what that plan entailed. By all means, he should be leaving. There should be absolutely nothing stopping him from leaving. Yet, he’s stuck to his spot, frozen in time.

Vincent didn’t like Vox, or any of the Vees for that matter. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. They were rude, disrespectful, egotistical, brash, dramatic, know-it-alls who, unlike most Overlords, directly profited off of sinners’ suffering. It’s not like he could say too much - he was in Hell for a reason and was close friends with Rosie, the Overlord of Cannibal Town - but he was known as ‘The Angelic Demon’ for a reason. He had to have some standards, and the Vees didn’t live up to a single one.

But, just as Vox said it had for him, somewhere along the line it changed. At least, in terms of Vox. There was a fondness in the fights and comfortability in the competition that transpired between them. Their back-and-forth between Vox2Night and live performances had become his favorite part of performing. Vox was the only reason he even downloaded social media - so that their silly feud could continue on their off-hours. Every time he visited Vee Tower on behalf of business with Valentino or Velvette, they found a way to talk, alone for a little bit before things eventually turned sour and they stopped interacting for a while, only to rinse and repeat once one of them did something overly petty. It was a nice routine that was built on definitely not hate, Vince realizes now, and obviously Vox had to have felt the same way.

Because now they were here.

Vox looks genuine again and Vince loses the ability to form words. It’s scary how open and vulnerable he’s being when there’s still so many people around. If Vince didn't know any better, he’d assume Vox was begging him to accept the offer. Vince almost accepts it.

“Is there something wrong here, darling?”

The illusion of solitude shatters as a woman - a sinner, Vince concludes since he doesn’t recognize her - with blue hair, a sleek, black dress, and fire around her neck walks up to Vox. Recognition and fondness flashes in his eyes for a second before he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer.

“Just talking with Vincent about joining us, again. We could always use someone with such a strong hold on the music industry on our side,” he responds, and Vincent can’t tell whether it was a complete lie or not. More importantly, if it wasn’t, whether he had fallen for something that was never even there.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s very keen on the idea,” she glares, and Vincent takes the hint.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it, Vox. I appreciate the offer.”

Vox’s expression shifts to that of shock for a second before his usual facade slips back on. “You know where to find me when you make up your mind.”

Vincent turns to leave and find Rosie, but not before grabbing his martini and downing it in one gulp. He wanted, no, needed to leave. After all, he had gotten what he had come here for.

“I don’t like the way you look at them,” Vera states, slipping off her gloves and tossing them aside.

Vox yells from the bathroom as he undoes his bowtie. “Excuse me?”

“The Angelic Demon. You look at them the way you look at me. I don’t like it,” Vera repeats, more annoyed this time. There’s no immediate response, so she scoffs to herself and sits down to take off her heels.

“I don’t look at anyone the way I look at you,” Vox reassures, exiting the bathroom. His suit jacket is hung over his arm and his gloves have disappeared as well

Vera deadpans, “Alastor.”

Vox hesitates as he opens his closet. “That’s different. He’s… unobtainable. And a bitch.”

Vera finds it in herself to laugh at that, but doesn’t loosen up for long. “They aren’t unobtainable. Bitch? Arguably. Probably. But not unobtainable.”

“And how do you know? They have never once even begun to consider any of my offers.”

He sits down on their shared bed beside her now as he unbuttons his shirt. Vera raises her brows.

“They said they’d consider it, this time. Besides, there has to be a reason why you keep offering and they keep listening.”

Vox’s eyes widen and he looks away. He doesn’t respond.

Vera scoffs again and mutters, “Exactly.”

They finish getting ready for bed in silence. The air is thick with tension, but Vera doesn’t say anything - she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. Just as she’s about to turn off the lamp on her bedside table, Vox speaks:

“I love you. You do know that, right?”

“I never said you didn’t.”

“But you said-”

“I didn’t say anything except that I don’t like how you look at them. I was letting you know; there’s no need to put words in my mouth.”

Vox frowns but doesn’t say anything else. He turns off his lamp, which signals Vera to do the same. Vera sighs as she closes her eyes.

“And I love you, too. For the record.”

Vera sits outside of a coffee shop, waiting for Vega to walk by. She had checked the security cameras in the area immediately surrounding Cannibal Town - where Vega had been known to frequent - and was banking on her walking down this street like she usually did on the way to whatever studio or club she was working at that day.

Vox didn’t say anything about her when they had woken up that morning, seemingly forcing himself to forget that their dispute even happened.

Vera didn’t forget.

She didn’t entirely know why she was here. She didn’t entirely know what she was going to do, either. She does know that it’s dumb to act this impulsively, but something was telling her that Vega was going to accept Vox’s offer this time and she needs to let her know her place, Overlord or not. Vera laughs bitterly at that thought. Since when was she the jealous type? And since when did she consider Vox something worth being jealous over?

One of the flames around her neck shoots off to the side, taking her away from her thoughts. It hovers on the other side of the street. A few seconds later, Vega passes it.

Vega navigates Pentagram City too carelessly for an Overlord, but Vera isn’t complaining. It made her easier to find, after all. Just as Vera is about to slip out of her seat to tail her, Vega turns to cross the street.

“Shit,” she swears and attempts to hide her face in her cup of coffee. She attempts to tell herself that it’s a coincidence, but she knows she’s been caught. Not once in any of the archived footage had Vega stopped here.

Only when the flame returns to her neck does Vera look up. Of course, Vega slides into the seat across from her. She’s smiling politely and Vera is already annoyed.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Yes.”

They lock eyes for a second. Vera’s gaze hardens, daring Vega to leave. Vega laughs and looks away.

“I’ve worked both with and against the Vees long enough to know when I’m being watched.” She pauses, waiting for Vera to say something. Vera says nothing. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

“And who am I, exactly?” Vera pushes, leaning forward. Maybe this was good. It took away some of the impulsivity but still let get done what she wanted to get done - intimidate Vega.

“Vox’s bitch,” Vega laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Valentino’s words, not mine.”

Vera scoffs. “Of fucking course he said that.”

“So you’re not Vox’s bitch then?”

Vega is smirking, arms crossed. Vera glares the best glare she can while taking another sip of her coffee. “That’s a way to word it.”

“But you’re not fond of it.”

“ No. Who the fuck would be ?”

Vega bites her tongue. “What would you like me to call you? I’m Vega, as I’m sure you-.”

“I know your name. I’m Vera.”

Vega looks Vera up and down at being cut off. She was wearing a burgundy leather jacket with a black tank top and her hair was up in a ponytail. Vega couldn’t make out the rest of Vera’s outfit, but she was sure it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary, either. Save for the flames circling her neck, she didn’t look like much of a threat. Humming to herself, she pushes out her chair and stands up.

“Excuse me, where do you think you’re going?” Vera asks, standing up as well.

Vega looks over her shoulder, walking away. “Leaving. You’re not who I expected to be talking to, nor are you a threat to my well-being.”

“Oh, I’m a threat. I may not be an Overlord, but a reputation means a lot to someone who is. Don’t underestimate the kind of power I have on these streets just because I’m not invited to your special meetings,” Vera growls.

Vega huffs. She doesn’t believe that Vera is bluffing - she’s seen first-hand the kind of things that can be done to someone’s power because a sinner with none gets determined - but she still doesn’t think that her bite is necessarily worse than her bark.

“There isn’t anything you can do,” she starts, looking back in front of her to cross the street again, “That the ‘Angelic Demon’ can’t do to herself by agreeing to work with the Vees.”

Vega doesn’t wait for a response before crossing the streets. And when Vera yells, “Leave him alone!,” she doesn’t dignify her with one, either.

Vera watches as Vega crosses the street and turns back the way she came. Once she’s out of sight, Vera leaves the cafe as well and starts to make her way back to Vee Tower. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Vox, even if he is a concern, it’s that she doesn’t trust Vega. Whatever her reputation may be, when it comes down to it, she’s a sinner. And while Vera is 100% sure she can handle whatever Vega throws her way, that doesn’t mean she wants to have to catch it.

“I don’t get your point!” Vox yells, slamming his fist against his desk. He turns around and throws his arms out. “Vega joining us helps us. All of us.”

“Oh really?” Vera yells back, running her hands through her hair. Her flames are scattered around the room, floating in place. “Because the speech you were giving her at the party sure didn’t seem like it was to benefit all of us!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, we’ve been together how long and you don’t know I’m good at manipulation? And obviously I have her falling for it if you did!”

It’s been like this since Vera got home. Velvette was here, originally, but she left once they started raising their voices. Valentino called to ask Vox about something or another, but was quickly hung up on. He sent someone up to bother him but then that worker was friend almost to his second death, so now they were completely alone. They were both sure that they could be heard throughout Vee Tower, but neither was exactly keen on quieting down, either.

“Shut the fuck up, Vox, you and I both now that that wasn’t manipulation,” Vera sasses, crossing her arms. “Because if that was manipulation, then everything us has been as well.”

“That means it was good manipulation, Vera!!”

“You think you’re so slick, you know that?” Vera says, walking up to Vox. “You can admit whatever you want to yourself and you can deny whatever you want to yourself, but everyone around you can see right through your screen. You love her, or at the very least are interest-.”

“Oh my Satan, you are such a fucking HYPOCRITE!” Vox interrupts, voice glitching. He grabs the hand that Vera is pointing at his chest to stop her before dropping it and continuing, “You don’t get to stand here and yell at me about how you think I’m going to fucking cheat on you with that prude when you have Jericho in your fucking life. If you think I don’t see the way you two look at each other, the way you two touch each other, then you must think I’m the stupid one and fucking newsflash, I’m not.”

Vera backs up. “Me and Jericho aren’t-”

“Anything that you’re going to say, I’m going to call bullshit on because, first of all, it’s bullshit, and second of all, I’ve definitely said the same things about Vega. You don’t trust me? That’s fine, but then you’ve lost the trust I have for you. Which is insane , by the way, because you know how few people I trust. I fucking love you, Vera, so much that it scares me, but what goes for you in this relationship I am trying to have for you goes for me, too, so if you get to have your side-piece, then I get to have mine.”

Vox stares at Vera, waiting for her to say something, anything, but when she’s silent, he groans and starts to make his way towards the elevator.

Vera wants to say something but isn’t sure what exactly to say. Vox isn’t right. He can’t be. But maybe he’s not wrong, either? She hasn’t thought about what she and Jericho were to each other, so it’s not impossible to say that maybe there was… Something there that they hadn’t put a proper label on. But for Vox to bring it up now was fucking absurd , right? Jericho was one of her only still-living friends, it was wrong of him to imply that he shouldn’t be a part of her life.

Before she can get her thoughts together, the elevator door shuts and Vox is out of sight.

Out of the corner of her eye, however, Vera notices him show up on one of the screens on his desk. She sits down and notices camera footage from the lobby as well - Vega was standing at the secretary’s desk. She frowns to herself and pulls herself in closer to the desk. The flames return to her, floating closer to the screen as if watching, as well.

Okay, so maybe Vera was a bit hypocritical. But if anything, she was territorial, and this bitch was not about to take was hers before she could correct what was wronged.

Vega leans against the front desk of Vee Tower. The day had gotten unbelievably slower since she met with Vera, having gotten back to Cannibal Town to discuss potentially, temporarily joining the Vees with Rosie. Just her luck, Alastor was also there, and was incredibly upset at the very prospect of one of his allies joining the Vees. It was a mess and a half of a conversation, with the verdict being that Rosie would continue to be friends with her, and while any agreements - not deals, never deals - she had made with Alastor will continue to be upheld, any camaraderie they had had would be no more.

So, in other words, she pissed off the Radio Demon.

First a sinner with fireballs around her neck and a romantic attachment to Vox threatens to destroy the reputation and therefore status she’s built for herself, and next, one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords is no longer on friendly terms with her.

Fucking fantastic.

Now, she was waiting for Vox to be free. Apparently something had come up last minute, and the addition of a fourth Vee was just so much less important than whatever he had going on.

Not that she was upset that she wasn’t one of Vox’s priorities.

Because she wasn’t.

Vega is brought out of her thoughts by the elevator dinging. Vox exits, looking incredibly annoyed, but freezes in his traps when he notices Vega.

“Uh, Mr. Vox, Sir? The Angelic Demon said she had important matters to discuss with you-”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says, cutting off the secretary and dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “You’ve thought about my offer, I presume?”

“I think you’ll be happy, for once.”

Vox gestures in front of him to the entrance. “Walk with me, why don’t you?”

He wraps around her back and begins to lead her outside. Vega notices the cameras following them. Vera, she assumes. Leaning in slightly closer to Vox - if Vega had any flaws, pettiness was definitely one of them - she walks with him.

The cameras outside of Vee Tower continue to follow Vox and Vega, as well as the other cameras in the surrounding area.

“So,” Vox starts, still sounding on edge from his fight with Vera, “Has your answer changed at all, or did you not wanna say no to my face.”

He’s attempting to make humor of the situation, but there’s disappointment there. For a second, Vega feels guilty at repeatedly saying no, before remembering that she’s only saying yes this time for more information. She’s not becoming a permanent part of the Vees, so there’s no need to feel any sort of guilt.

Right?

“It has changed, actually,” Vega answers, pushing that train of thought aside. She pretends to not notice Vox freezing for a second. “I don’t have confidence that what you’re planning is going to work, but there’s always a chance. And if I’ve learned anything from this awful place, it’s that you have to do what it takes to survive. I’m in.”

Vox freezes completely now and turns to face Vega. For a second, he’s back with Vera, thinking about everything she had said. But then the second passes and he forces himself back to the moment and sticks his hand out.

“Shake on it?”

“I know better than to shake on something, down here,” Vega teases, so Vox drops his hand. She looks behind him and sees one of the security cameras from the club behind them focused on them. She smirks and holds out her arms. “How about a hug? A little bit of my style and a little bit of yours.”

Vox doesn’t hesitate before closing the distance. Vega closes her eyes for a second, feeling a sense of satisfaction that she wasn’t expecting, before opening them to continue staring at the camera.

When they pull apart, Vox rewraps his arm around Vega’s back and pulls along the sidewalk with him. “I came down here for some air, so how about you continue to walk with me and tell me what exactly it is you expect from a partnership with the Vees. I’ll message my employees to start setting up one of our vacant floors for you.”

Vega laughs before winking at the next camera she notices following them, fully aware of the double-meaning of what she’s about to say next: “Of course, what else are partners for?”

Vera stands up, knocking her chair over in the process, and rushes to one of the couches to find where she left her phone. She’s not one to make an empty threat. Pulling up her contacts, she scrolls down to the J’s and clicks on one.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I’m gonna need your help with something.”

She pauses, looking back at the computer screens and zoning in on Vox. He’s completely rid of the frustration and anger he was displaying earlier and his arm has now dropped to be around Vega’s waist.

Two can play at that game.

“Actually, Jericho? Make that two things.”

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listenbuckaroo · 2 years

Text

Flowers Part 2 - Courtland Gentry (Sierra Six) x Reader

warnings: none, sweet and happy six w/ his partner :)

word count: 1.2k

summary: your high school sweetheart appears again

a/n: hello everyone, i had quite possibly the worst week. this may be shit and short but i hope you like it <3

---

Morning honey,

Please don’t be mad at me for leaving without saying goodbye, I’ll fall into your tiny apartment again soon.

-CG

One year later, the note Courtland left on your counter still remained in its place on your fridge. Glancing at it before you start your day job is one of the best things for you. It kept you going on darker days and brightened your day even more on the good ones.

It was completely radio silent from him. You didn’t have his phone number, according to the internet he was still in prison, and he quite literally left no trace other than the note in your life. You knew he had to do something secretive and classified due to the way he left that morning.

Your life had continued on as normal, working day in and day out, attempting to make the most of your days off and not worry about the fact that Courtland could be doing something incredibly dangerous while you worked a 9-5.

Even from a young age you two had talked about being ever forever, you knew he was the one for you and nothing was going to change that. But if he never came back you could never have that conversation with him again.

When the gentle Saturday sun hit you face something felt different. You didn’t feel tired when your feet hit the floor. The water in the shower nearly immediately got hot enough for you to get in, and your coffee was the best it had been in weeks.

But nothing topped the knock on your door as you were making breakfast. At 10:30 a knock sounded on your door. You tried to remember if you had ordered anything recently or if the kids down the hall were playing ding dong ditch this early on a Saturday. Holding your coffee in your hands to keep it warm you glanced out your peephole on your door. Nearly dropping your mug you ripped your door open to see your favorite human in front of you.

Cortland Gentry was standing in front of you, with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. He proceeded to give you the biggest shit eating grin you hadn’t seen since high school and opened his arms as you tackled him for a hug.

“Heya honey.” he whispered into your hair. “God, I missed you.”

You breathed in Courtland, he smelled cleaner this time. Not like the gunpowder and blood that he did last time. But today he smelled like clean soap and spearmint, from the gum he insisted on chewing 24/7. He also looked better, there were no bruised ribs or bleeding forehead that needed tending, just a happy healthy man that you had missed so dearly.

Never wanting your hug to end, but also not wanting your neighbors to stop and berate you with questions the next time you saw any of them you pulled him inside. He kissed your forehead and handed you the bouquet of flowers you had nearly crushed when you tackled him. The roses and sunflowers complimented each other so beautifully and matched your apartment decor to a T.

“Here, these are to make up for my exit last time.” He said as you searched for a vase in your cabinets.

You tried to compose yourself, the anger and frustration you felt last time he was here threatened to bubble up over the happiness you felt.

You couldn’t be a place for him to crash but you also couldn’t give him up. He had been stripped from your life once, and you’d be damned if you were to let that happen again.

“What happened, Courtland?” you said with your back still to him, trying not to let the tears spill over.

You felt him shift behind in the chair he had made himself comfortable on. A deep sigh and sorrowed eyes met yours when you turned around. He gestured at the coffee pot that was still warm and you poured him a mug.

“It’s a long story, but I’ll tell you everything that I’m legally allowed to tell you if you have a free day.” He said, sipping his coffee.

You nodded and sat down next to him with your newly poured cup of coffee.

Over the next few hours Courtland explained his entire situation to you. From the reason he did what he did in high school, to the reason he got out, and onwards. You learned of his adventures (he spared you the gory details) in other countries that you had only dreamed about going to. By the time he had finished, the coffee was gone, you were hungry and he couldn't stop pacing.

“I have questions, but I know we're both hungry Courtland so I’ll cook something and we can keep talking, okay?”

“Would you please call me Court?” He asked “you know I always hated when you used my full name.”

“Your name is Courtland, and you broke into my apartment so I don’t think we're on a nickname basis yet.” you said picking up the takeout menus you kept on the fridge.

“Yes, but we did grow up together, and we also shared a bed the last time I was here.” He said standing up to step closer to you.

“Even so, I had to wash my sheets three times because even a shower couldn’t get you clean, you stinky ass man.” you said pushing him away and picking up your phone to call in a pizza.

“Oh how dare you..” He said picking you up by the waist, he began tickling you as if you were in high school again play fighting.

The shock and giddiness that wracked your body nearly made your brain short circuit. You were 15 again just hanging out with a boy who you loved, and had no idea of the bad things he had done or was capable of doing. In this moment he was Courtland Gentry, a boy from a small town who loved the people he was close to and would do anything for them. He was no longer a criminal or a CIA agent that didn’t exist.

He was just Courtland Gentry, and that's all you could ever ask for. When he finally set you down you found yourself planted on the counter and were finally eye level with him. Looking into the eyes that you fell in love with you felt nothing but the urge to kiss him. It may have been a few years since you had kissed anyone, but you had to try.

And after leaning in, Courtland clearly felt the same way. He ran his hand up your thighs and kissed you, not a needy urgent kiss, but one that held emotion and love. It felt like home and you never wanted to leave it, but you both had to pull away eventually for air.

He rested his forehead on yours and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe it took me 10 years to kiss the love of my life again.” He said and smiled at you.

You giggled with teary eyes and pulled him in for another hug, not really believing that he was back with you, hopefully for good.

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl

#sierra six imagine #sierra six #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you #courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry x f!reader #sierra six x reader #court gentry #courtland gentry #the gray man 2022

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terror-slut · 2 years

Text

Change of Heart

Chapter (03/??) click HERE for this fic’s masterlist!

Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.

Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader

Word count: 1192

Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are added.

A/N: it took me literal ages to fine tune this just the way I wanted omg. I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but I really wanted to upload it today <3

Is he really that shallow?

Peter sits silently at one of the many annular, white tables that the break room within Hawkins laboratory is packed with. His colleagues chatter away, taking no account of the quiet, brooding blond sitting alone, so absorbed in his own world that he barely tastes the stale food the canteen provides. Today is not a day where he can find it in himself to participate in the usual meaningless, mind numbing conversation.

The overwhelming surgical white exterior of the laboratory transits throughout the entire building, save for the rainbow room. Paired with a scent he can only describe as sterile, clean, perfect, it all adds onto his immense discomfort. The sore muscles in his legs warn him of their stiffness whenever he shifts his body, which has him subconsciously clenching and unclenching his jaw. Peter is on edge, and he knows exactly why.

The pediatrician.

Just as she was the evening before, friendly, kind, slightly apprehensive of him, she now echoes through his mind without any order. The freshly forged memories dance behind his eyes, as if she stands before him like she had the night prior. Her pastel nightgown loosely hanging around her frame, dipping just slightly by the waist, while the carefully knitted matching cardigan hugs her torso. The strict dress code for all medical staff working within the laboratory calls for the same white uniform Peter himself wears. It has been six months ever since she filled the position for pediatrician, and within those six months he has seen her in the same clothes with her hair pulled back from her face.

Still, it is the nightdress she wears when she enters his wandering mind.

The metal of the fork he uses scrapes unpleasantly against the porcelain of the plate, but his train of thought drones on.

The human brain is hardwired to be lured in by beauty and symmetry, a fact Peter is well aware of. He is no stranger to it’s effects. To say she is his first colleague to have blessed with a pretty face would be a lie. Even when mutual attraction was on the table, not one of them had been able to shake his resoluteness. It goes against his morale.

Peter knows himself to not be so shallow as to not look past her physical… assets. There is more than meets the eye with this woman. Potential bubbles at her edges, clawing it’s hungry way up her throat and begging so sweetly to overflow. The buried truth of her beliefs resonate with his ideology, and even Peter can’t deny the similarities between the pair.

Whether he likes it or not, parts of her resemble parts of him. She has captured his attention, now.

And he hers, so it seems.

Despite his friendly, thoughtful demeanor, he too remains guarded. It would be stupid if he didn’t.

It struck him as odd for her to seek him out after six months of radio silence, though there could very well be a handful of logical explanations for this drastic change of heart.

A reserved nature could be one of them, Peter thinks to himself, she could have needed time to feel comfortable enough within her new place of work before attempting to make friends. The situation she faces at home could have preoccupied her as well.

But Peter knows who he is and he knows who the pediatrician works for. Martin Brenner is a man who should not be underestimated, and Peter refuses to do so.

His appetite ruined by his endless overthinking, Peter scoffs in vexation and then pushes aside his plate.

“Not done already, are you Peter?” The chair next to his own screeches when his colleague, Alec, pulls it out to sit next to the blond. “You’ve barely eaten.”

“I’ve had enough, Alec,” his short answer sounds. “Thank you.”

He is up and away before Alec can protest, taking long strides away from the break room. An empty smile graces his lips as he makes his exit. He will remain vigilant, for now. Trusting a stranger, no matter how beautiful, could mean the end of him if he doesn’t watch his back. But perhaps there is something within her that could prove to be useful to him.

The projector in the conference room steadily whirs on as the pediatrician’s attention begins to wander away from the projected image on the white wall across from her. Other doctors surround the table she sits at, quietly listening to dr. Brenner dissecting progress reports on the children.

Fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling begin to have a drying effect on her eyes after the extended time spent in the conference room, and her head is pounding.

The night before was spent talking to Peter Ballard and sleeping on the shitty sleeping pad dr. Brenner had provided her with. The eventful night is now taking it’s toll, she realizes as she stifles a yawn.

Peter has been friendly with her from the very start and the talk from the night before has only helped strengthen her confidence in the man who is only just a couple of years older than her. He had been empathetic with her and shown her his concern for her situation, kindness radiating off of the tall man.

“Doctor?” It takes her mere seconds to realize the conference room has emptied out, save for dr. Brenner and herself. The older man looks at her in anticipation.

“Yes, sir?” she swallows.

“I expect the bed you have at home is more to your liking,” the old man’s eyes are kind when he scans her face, but it does not withhold her from worrying her lip between her teeth.

A polite laugh follows.

“It is, sir. But as I’m sure you’ve read in my rapport already, it has been a productive night,” she says.

Dr. Brenner’s hand reaches towards the brown folder in which her rapport rests. In thick, blue ink a name is printed upon the folder, ‘001 (HENRY CREEL)’

“I have,” the tone of his voice indicates nothing good. She digs her heels in the ground below her to steady herself, ready to take in his brutal critique.

“I’m not sure about this approach of yours,” he doesn’t sound condescending, but his disapproval is obvious. “001 isn’t your typical patient.”

“Which is exactly why my approach is unorthodox, sir. I think there is a lot of good I can do for Peter, which in turn will help your research.”

Dr. Brenner seems almost uninterested as he flips through the folder, and biting down on her tongue is the only thing containing her chagrin.

“Sir, you out of all people knows that Peter doesn’t conform to the seventh printing of the DSM-II. Frankly speaking, Peter doesn’t even conform to the human laws. None of the patients here do!” The mini outburst catches his attention, and a slow nod from him is all the approval she needs.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing. Don’t make me regret hiring you,” he says.

“You’ve tried it your way, sir. Now let me try it my way.”

A/N: I will genuinely suck your d1ck/cl1t if you lmk what you thought of this chapter <3 plot twist whaaa

Taglist: @sunweee @ancientbeing10 @njutul @lauftivy @madamerebloger @korekiyoss @immazebrah @severuslovebot @hobii-c0re @pechvogal @raineeace @peterballardsgirlfriend @shatteredflowers @thedoubleexposurephotography @dogmom2014 @daffy-ducks-hug @odd1seven

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist!

#mind the tags <3 #happy reading!#gasp…. betrayal #st4 #stranger things #stranger fics #peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #001 x reader #vecna x reader #change of heart fiction #change of heart #horror #period typical sexism #swearing #no (y/n)#no described defining features for reader #dr brenner #not beta read we die like papa

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noodles-n-soba · 2 years

Text

Being on a long car trip with the Genshin boys/their reactions

Scenario: The two of you have been road tripping since recently.. But reactions may vary on these kinda occasions :)

Warnings: Didn't proofread..

Characters: Bennett, Tartaglia, Diluc, Itto, Razor, Scaramouche, Thoma, Zhongli

A modern!AU

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Masterlist

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Bennett

Will be a good behaving boi and tries to keep his hands off the steering wheel or just anything in the car :>

You'd probably have to drive the entire way, because his bad luck will definitely get the two of you in a car accident

Even if he doesn't touch stuff, the fact that your petrol runs out so fast.. The car didnt start for half an hour, your windshield wipers didn't work when it started raining heavily.. Shows that even if he isn't driving, his bad luck still radiates around him.

So, the two of you will take a stop next to a gas station, you go inside to buy some stuff and refill your tank..

After a surprising peaceful night, the next morning the two of you move on

He will get bored eventually.. Saying that he could drive if you were too tired

You immediately shook your head

"Benny.. Don't get me wrong but, heh.. Uh. You.. Driving? I don't think that'll be a good idea."

He tries to play a game of 'spot the red cars', but you're way too busy concentrating on the road and driving that this doesn't work out.

You almost hit a damn deer-!? Like it literally jumped on the road out of nowhere!? Scaring the two of you to death, but you managed to stop in time

Will call Fischl and Razor to talk with them because he's getting wayy too bored

But.. his phone doesn't have any service ;v; (while your phone has service, what is this witchcraft-)

So he'll just sleep to kill time

This poor guy falls asleep, and immediately you notice everything goes wayyy easier

Tartaglia

The annoying guy who sings the entire trip, like he'll never shut up,

He's the one who's driving, so he'll decide what kinda music there will be playing on the radio

He turns the volume so high tho.. And when you want to turn it down he's like:

"AH!? (Y/n)?! You can't just do that.. It's not your turn yet."

He'll also enjoy his days long car trip by annoying you in any way possible..

Randomly grabs your phone out of your hands, falls completely silent and screams out of nowhere to startle you, everything.. Literally everything.

Will also place his hand on your thigh and just hold it.. Filling you with butterflies to the brim pf-

When you're behind the steering wheel.. He'll talk non stop on how you need to drive

"Oh! Oh lovely, did you see that board.. Oh no! You're driving too slow actually.. Hmm, what about a game of.. Spot the mistakes the driver makes?"

It's actually you who makes the most mistakes.. Not a lot, but he's actually really good at driving so..

He's never bored to be honest, but you're so fed up with staying with him with literally little to no distance between the two of you, him never shutting up and screaming along some lyrics. Like bOI-

Diluc

The quiet one who likes to listen to some good, calming beats

He will drive!! You aren't allowed to perform any labour!!!!! Whenever you touch the steering wheel with the gentlest finger placement ever, he'll gently grab your hand, press a kiss on top of it and place it back on your lap

"Don't worry my firefly, it's okay.."

Even if he's tired, he'll push through it. I mean, he's kinda used to sleepless nights so..?

He has the whole journey mapped and planned out, even booked hotels for the two of you to stay in whenever he was on the edge of falling asleep (I mean, the two of you had been on the road for 2 and a half days.. What could you expect..?).

The hotel looks like a damn palace o my lord

The diner is GREAT..

To not forget the roadtrip feeling, the two of you actually decide to sleep in the car for one night.. But you keep on waking up, so the two of you head back inside of the hotel.. Heh.

The rest of the days follow and he's literally so calm. It looks like he also slept for thousands of years.. He has no eyebags or something, just a resting bitch face.

You, on the other hand, are a complete wreck who's hella tired. He notices this and keeps on comforting you while driving. It's actually helping a lot!

Itto

Why did you even let him DRIIIIVEEEE (actually because he kept on crying that he wanted to drive..)

Well, Goodluck with this man, because the two of you aren't even gone for 3 hours or yall already lost the way..

"Ehh.. Baby, I think.. Uh.."

You already knew what he was going to say.. Ugh, you shouldn't have closed your eyes to take a small nap.. That could've prevented this situation.

"Seems like we've gotta try and make the best out of this, huh! (Y/N)?! Right!?" Will wrap an arm around you.. Saying:

"And dont worry.. Me, the great Oni, will scare away all the monsters in this forest.."

He will actually shit his pants when he even hears crows crowing, like.. He's so scared he's shaking..

Sometimes you wish you could just.. Pull out a portable Kuki.. sigh..

Will ask Ushi's help to find the way. Of course , the other one of this small team who has more than one braincell...

Thank god the small butt-wiggly cow remembered how the hell Itto got here.. It takes some time before the two of you are on the main road again, but slow and steady wins the race..

You won't let him drive for the entire way to your destination, he'll sulk and beg you but you absolutely forbid him to touch the steering wheel.

Will sit in the passenger seat with arms crossed, a pout on his face and an angry face expression.. Not speaking a word to you (its actually very calm in the car, for once-)

You know he can't stay like this for a long time, and you're right after all. He will eventually talk to you...

And tell you that this was his plan all along, aka you driving so that he could think about his next Gang deeds. (Crimes, as you describe them. Tch..)

Razor

Will be a good behaving Boi at first..

An hour later he'll get FERAL.. and there's so much energy stored in this man-

You literally parked the car and made him sit on the backseats, but before that.. He actually ran around the forest the two of you were coincidentally next to.

Would move from window to window, looking at cars speeding by, looking at you.. Leaning over the seats for his face to reach your head, whisper something inaudible in your ear and continue furiously looking around

Lord.. You made a mental note that you'd never let this guy sit in a car more than an hour..

"When.. We arrive?"

Will be calmed down if you give him a snack.. in fact, he'll sit calmy on his seat and eat.

Will fall asleep and snore when he's done eating, you sigh relieved.. Like, the whole car isn't going to be ruined by him scratching stuff for no absolute reason!!

This made you realize how tired YOU truly were.. And it didn't help that Razor couldn't take over, because he couldn't drive. So, you make a stop.

You will go and move to the backseat and lay on top of Razor. More because it's a lot more comfortable laying, and Razor is actually really warm.. Like always. And you just love being close to him. Heh

He'll always automatically wrap an arm around you, so you know you're save :)

Speaking about being save, it happened one night that someone tried breaking into the car

Of course you were absolutely terrified, but Razor just shot up and immediately went into full ninja mode.. Leaving the culprit with wounds and scratches..

My guy even bit the robber, he literally had to shake Razor off his arm which was quite the task.. In the mean time you kept on hitting the man with a fire extinguisher..

It.. Was quite the experience.

Scaramouche

One thing.. One thing this man does the entire time..

ROAD RAGING

Shouts at everyone who decides to enter the lane he's on and will honk continuously

You try to calm him down but he'll just snarl:

"DID YOU SEE.. Did you see (Y/n)?!?! *breathes in* did you see what that mONKEY did?! Didn't even turn on his damn signal!? Oh I'll make him regret every second of his life.. He will wish that he never even decided to drive on this highway.."

You found out that showering him with compliments help.. Like telling him how good he is at driving, how he shouldn't pay attention to the others making "mistakes"

After you calmed him down, the two of you will actually talk about some stuff..

Out of nowhere he takes a wrong turn.. Only to drive past a McDonald's

"Whatcha want.."

You are absolutely surprised but will gladly order something

When you go through the drive thru to collect your food, the cashier is terrified by the look on Mouche's face.. Why is he constantly so intimidating..?

You'll enjoy your food in silence (he didn't order anything because he was like "I don't eat that trashy food. Tch...") while he drives~

When he notices you fell asleep, he'll just silently continue to drive as he sometimes shoots a glance at your face to observe your beauty

Thoma

Road trips with this guy are so much fun!

He's always fully prepared.. So whenever you feel like snacking..

"Don't worry, just reach out for the bag I threw on the backseat babe."

Will contain all your favorite snacks, this man knows you too well.

Always has the type of music on which you love, and the best thing is that the two of you have the same music taste, so he enjoys too

Always has tea and car rides are never boring/silent!

Also, he'll be the one driving the entire time, unless you notice he's almost falling asleep behind the steer, but actually never happens because he's used to staying awake for a long period of time

Whenever you feel like driving because you just wanna drive, he'll let you.. If it satisfies you, he won't hesitate!

You've come across a few deer and every time he sees one of them rush through the forest, he'll make sure you know it too.

Stares out of the window with such excitement to look what's to be found outside that it's darn cute! His beautiful green eyes just curiously looking around and how he talks passionately about what his eyes observe? It makes you grab your shirt and whisper a "so cute" to yourself

After a while he'll take over the driving task, saying that he's supposed to let you rest and that you shouldn't even be extending a finger~

Will have a romantic diner outside, the two of you under the night filled with stars, a few candles surrounding you, delicious food which he prepared.. It wont get any better than this.. And just realize this happens every night..

Zhongli

He knows EVERY place, so his goal is to show you around the world and tell you everything about it while you're having fun

Will be sure to clothe you right for the occasion or weather. Will wrap a scarf around you whenever it's cold, will put sunscreen on your face with the gentlest touch if you're going to a sunny destination..

"(Y/n), my love.. We must be prepared for any occurance that will come across us and become a hindrance. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.."

You will constantly feel save whenever he's driving, it seems like he completely knows what he's doing... There's definitely no denying that..

Will tell you about the place where the two of you are heading to while driving, but he isn't your regular tourguide.. The fact that he knows so much and will mention the exact things you like makes it so much more interesting..

The only con is that you have to pay for the food, but that's the least you can do, in fact.. You actually don't really mind! (I guess..)

He'll be driving the entireeeee way, and even after diner he'll drive a few more km's before he'll park the car.. Only to see you've already fallen asleep

Will pull you on his lap and snuggle with you, being absolutely overloaded with your cuteness..

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harleyquinnzelz · 2 years

Text

Personal Update

Just some life update stuff since I went radio silent for a month.

Okay so I finally geared myself up to post about this here, on my blog, for you guys to see. It’s been weighing heavily on my mind for a few weeks because I went from steadily putting out fresh content to... well, nothing. I was constantly motivated to create, to put out new and fresh edits. I was writing regularly, making actual progress on fics. It felt great. I was in a wonderful mental state, working on writing a fic that I love, with ocs that I adore. Beyond that, I was lucky enough to have multiple outlets where I could gush about these ocs, and more specifically where I was able to have wonderful conversations with friends about all of our ocs. Really, I was in a wonderful mental state, probably the best I had been in for a long time.

Then, on August 14th, after a week spent at my parents’ house dog-sitting, I came home to learn that one of our cats, Guppy, had unexpectedly died literally within 10 minutes of my arriving home. Look, I know I don’t share much personal stuff on this blog. I like to stay pretty private in public posts, but those of you who know me well know that I adore my cats, so coming home to learn that one of them had died, after I had spent a week away was devastating.

I won’t go into too many details here, but a little over a year ago Guppy unexpectedly got outside. We are very good at keeping our cats inside usually but a repairman was working on something in the house and at some point she had slipped outside. By the time we had found her, she was under the house and it took us a while to coax her out. Once we had, we realized at some point she had gotten injured and fractured her jaw. What followed was a series of vet trips to our local emergency clinic, surgery, and a diagnosis of FIP. We were hopeful that it was a false positive in the test as the months went by and Guppy seemed to have fully recovered. For those of you who don’t know, FIP has many neurological side-effects and over the course of a year we noticed no signs that there was anything wrong. We thought for sure that Guppy was going to be just fine, so her sudden passing hit hard. She was only three years old, after all, and an energetic, playful cat. On top of her sudden death was the very real worry that it was some other kind of sickness and that our other cat, Reid, may have gotten infected.

Now, while Guppy was a family cat, Reid is and has always been my cat, brought with me when I moved in with my boyfriend and his family. He’s my best friend, and I love him more than I could put into words. He is also much older than Guppy was so there was a very real fear that I could potentially lose him as well. Thankfully, an emergency check-up with our vet showed that, aside from an asthma diagnosis, Reid is perfectly healthy for his age. Our vet was also kind enough to offer us some insight into the potential cause for Guppy’s sudden passing. As thankful as I am that Reid is okay, with that confirmation came grief over Guppy and, as could be expected, my mental health took a dive. Pair that with falls imminent arrival (seriously guys the seasonal depression gets bad) and just... mentally I was not doing great. And my creative outlets suffered for it.

I know it seems silly to complain about that but seriously, I’m a creative person and having something to focus that creative energy on really help my mental state. On top of that, with no current hyperfixation (again, I know it’s a silly thing to worry about) I felt listless. I had nowhere to focus creative energy, despite desperately wanting to create.

So now it’s a month later and... look, I’m not going to say that I’m feeling better. I still miss Guppy, and I am anticipating the end of summer when the season depression will hit hard, but I am finally getting into the swings of creating again. I don’t know yet what the game plan is, I’m torn between working on either my Scream fic or my Stranger Things fic, but you guys can expect some updated character intros (to the surprise of absolutely nobody I’ve changed a lot of characters face claims) so hopefully that will inspire me to actually write.

A bit of good news to end what is otherwise a very depressing post, we have recently become the temporary home of a mama cat who gave birth to four, that’s right four, adorable kittens, two of which we are planning on keeping for ourselves. They are absolutely precious and have recently begun to walk and I think watching their growth has helped all of us start to process our grief regarding Guppy.

But yeah, that’s what’s going on in my life currently, and this post ended up being far longer than I intended, but I’m going to try to start making content again, and I’m in the process of getting my queue up and going (And if I’ve missed posts I’ve been tagged in over the a last month I am so sorry you guys). I’m also, tentatively, working towards starting to do art commissions for character designs and am in the process of building up a bit of a portfolio of sorts. Basically, I’m trying to be productive and we’ll just have to see how that works. Anyway, I love you guys and wanted to thank any of you who have been patient enough to stick around after a month of exactly 0 content.

#cat talks #personal update #that ended up being waaay to long #so sorry about that

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isthemedia · 1 year

Note

May I ask more about Slash, Bishop and Draxum from your au? Your au is fuzzy and has potential! Very interested and excite!

Sure thing!

First off let’s start with Draxum. Pretty much it’s continuing what the writers intended-him growing to become more core to the family. There’s still some animosity with some of the boys-namely Leo-but he’s working on it.

Also he still has some issues that he denies having-like dysmorphia and the need to be in control of himself. It’s one of those things he still can’t admit to even though his family would absolutely help.

Really the only time he opens up is well…when he learns Bishop has gone through similar things and suffers similar problems.

Now for Bishop…he’s keeping his 03 backstory of being abducted-and the whole seemingly immortality he has.

However he’s getting a bit of a 12 twist-with receiving cybernetic enhancements (eyes, below his elbows, below his knees, and a external spinal connection that allows him to literally plug in and download data.

He originally had his prejudice against aliens, mutants, and youkais. The EPF is known as a threat in the Hidden City, and they’ve been on their toes since they’ve gone radio silent for about a decade.

He tends to get focused on bizarre disappearances-figuring they are somewhat related to either aliens, mutants, or youkai activities. So yes he has a team go and investigate the disappearance of Lou Jitsu. Even mutated two EPF agents with youkai DNA so they could infiltrate and get into places they couldn’t before. Unfortunately no luck-at least it’s while in the Hidden City. Though they did come across an interesting substance and sent it to Bishop for analysis.

He’s responsible for Raph’s separation anxieties. Rumors that Lou Jitsu DID manage to escape the Hidden City reached the EPF and Bishop. So another search was conducted-this time with his involvement. Which lead him into the sewers.

That is when he came across the mutant turtle toddler who was wandering about. Even if it wasn’t Lou Jitsu, it still wasn’t human. So he attempted to take it back to EPF head quarters for further inspections,

Until he’s stopped by a still in process mutation Lou Jitsu. It’s not until Raph actually cried out for his dad that has Bishop actually drop him. Because 1) it spoke 2) it sounded like a child 3)IT IS a child.

Which kinda segways into Slash well enough. The substance sent to the EPF from the Hidden City is indeed the mutagen from Draxum’s lab. In order to learn about its properties Bishop conducted an experiment on an already injured leatherback sea turtle hatchling.

Granted he included minor alien DNA as well since the mutagen itself acted more as a binding agent from the tests.

There was also an unidentifiable strand also in the mutagen-later tests would show it was Lou Jitsu’s DNA.

After the run in with Raph and Splinter, Bishop heads down to the experimentation lab. Previously he thought that the mutagen sample was too small, and that’s why there was no exponential growth in the subject over the two year span from when it started. Only to realize it’s because the subject in question was aging as a human would.

Subject 72012 (reference to his appearance in the IDW series) was let out in secret by Bishop with the help of a long time friend and second in command for the EPF-Dr. Marty Chaplin (Marty in reference to he creator).

Both Bishop and Chaplin keep Slash’s release confidential, claiming the experiment was an abject failure. When instead Bishop knew the risk of leaving Slash to mature in the lab could result in a feral nature.

Slash named himself. Bishop had an affinity for music. His reasoning is because it’s the one thing that changes and evolves through the centuries, that assured him that: yes time was passing, no he wasn’t aging, yes this was truly happening.

When Slash was younger, and still being addressed by his subject number, while rifling through Bishop’s office he found some of his rock vinyls and was instantly enamored by the image of certain well known guitarist. When asking who it was Bishop answered, to which Slash replied “I wanna be called Slash!”

One other notable thing with Slash, is once the change in priorities of the EPF-moving away from complete elimination of alien/mutant/youkai to more of aiding in them blending into human society (think MIB)-this allowed Slash to wander the EPF base. He’d hold onto Bishop’s coat as to not get lost-in fact he does it to this day even as a 6’5” 16 year old if he’s in a place he doesn’t know.

Another thing is that much like his dad (he considers Bishop as his father figure) he also has an affinity with music. However it was what Bishop used to help calm Slash when he’d get overwhelmed.

There’s more but the post is long enough as is.

#ooc #anon ask #i reply #long post is long #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #baron draxum #Draxum rottmnt #Tmnt Bishop #Slash TMNT #in progress Au

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themayonnaiseclinic · 2 years

Text

The Pains of Sleeplessness

The following is a radio play I wrote for my RADIO DRAMA class in 2010. I wrote it as I was reading Dracula by Bram Stoker for the first time. It was meant to satirize Bram Stoker. I believe??? I literally haven’t read it since I wrote it. Is it good? I have no idea. Should anyone read it? Again, I have no idea. Why the heckin’ hey am I posting it, then?!! Because it’s been on my to-do list since summer since I started rereading Dracula b cos of Dracula Daily. ANNDDDD I wanted a few months ago, to contribute to the art and hoopla and fun of Dracula Daily, and this was/is still the best I’ve got?!???? I just gotta check it off my to-do list OKAY!!??!??! What is love, what is life, baby don’t hurt me!!!!!

ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO (IF YOU ARE STILL READING THIS FAR GOD AND MINA NEE MURRAY HARKER BLESS YOU)

THE PAINS OF SLEEPLESSNESS

BY: MAYO CMEK, 2010

NARRATOR: It was midnight, and I had been walking, sleep-walking in a dreamy spot of haze. It was a shivery night under a full moon and a spot of immaculate, white, snow fall. I had just left the ‘Hairy Monk’ - a pub- although as I am not much fond of the drink, I had only one for myself. Make no mistake, the drink has had no effect upon these truthful accounts of which I am about to report to you. They are facts, and those of only the most gravest kind... [ominous pause] After meeting there with my childhood friend and long-time confidant Nick, I was making my silent way home through a dreary and patchy street of Brooklyn, New York. Washington Irving Avenue, I should think was the name of it, although under the brash hands of certain administration I have been made to understand that for “security purposes”, these locations and names must be altered to protect the privacy of the innocent individuals I chanced across. [cough slightly, as if unapproving] This paltry deed I shall do, and we shall instead refer to Washington Irving Avenue as ... Undead Avenue, which is more than appropriate and less than coincidence, as I shall hope to prove to you in time. And these individuals upon which I less than fortunately overheard are not quite the innocent that they may seem to be... [ominous pause, again.] A sound that most greatly resembled a vicious pounding of some plastic bag by the very mad and the very doomed, startled me from my dream-walking, and I looked up into a lit window and saw the waxen face of a brown, spiky haired young lady. Her hair was in utter disarray and she was standing by the open window. Why the window was open during this cold spell I am at a loss to answer, but perhaps, the ladies inside this room could not feel the harsh winds licking at their white skin, the way the rest of us with the lifeblood in our veins and beating hearts can... [another ominous pause.] BUNNY: Jump in bed, cover my head, Santa Claus is coming tonight. [speaks as if to herself, in a bored voice. Sound of hard body colliding with plastic wrapping that encases a newly purchased bed.] Night, Chinny. NARRATOR: I stopped to listen. Her tinkling voice, soaked in the most sorrowful of tragedies, appeased me as it was carried out the window on the crystalised, angelic Tears of God, each crafted in its own individual shape and harmony. Ah, snow, how it soothes me now to even write of your melodic spiraling. But, to the story, I must not stray. [pause.] It was also that name she mentioned: Santa Claus. It sounded familiar to me - perhaps a business associate, I thought at the time. Oh, if only I knew how sorely wrong I was, and how sorely I would pay for this pit-stopping, as they say in the States, from my good-hearted, Christian way. CHINCHILLA: A good night for you, sure. [plastic moves.] And Santa Claus isn’t even coming tonight what are you talking about. BUNNY: I’m only kidding. CHINCHILLA: He’s coming in six nights though I’m so excited! Bat brought me an early present home last night. I can’t waaaaait to play with him! WAIT. I’m going to go right now. BUNNY: What did you name him? CHINCHILLA: [throughout this speech, we hear BUNNY continously adjusting herself on the plastic.] Well, he already has a name, it said so on his tag on the crate, but I don’t really care. I don’t think we should limit him to just his name on the box, you know? He might have really special powers but we’ll see in a few days I guess. Since I can’t even see him during the day, ever. It’s like... I kind of think his name should be Robert, like after the hottest vampire in the world. [she huffs] I really wish we had HBO and True Blood. SANTA HELP ME AHHHHH. [hear her footsteps run out of the room] NARRATOR: Some people say we do enter freely upon these things, and of our own will, but at this point I was bewitched as if under some supernatural spell. Despite my good-headed nature and shivering fear at the brown-spiky-haired woman’s use of the word ‘vampire’, I could not take a step. The sound of the plastic - assumedly wrapped around the tender girl’s mattress, delivered freshly and neglected in the quiet, mysterious voice’s apparent exhaustion - was irksome on my muffled ears like a warning, and like the sound of frantic spoons scraping against my Grandmother’s fine China in the wash bowl it made my insides cringe. Their words and her face had piqued my intrigue however, and I could not walk away more than I could tell my Grandmother I wouldn’t make it to wash her treasured utensils the next day. Oh, the enchantments women have had over us mighty and masculine men! BUNNY: [plastic shifts, she is sitting up.] Hey, Chin, can your special powers like shut my door and light? Thanks. [more plastic noise.] CHINCHILLA: [from the other room] OH OF COURSE DUH. NARRATOR: As the room went black and the dark headed creature disapparated from sight, I could only see the prim snow blowing ever so gently inside the window - the winds had been snuffed with the light it seemed - and I wondered whether or not the harrowed voice inhabiting the room could feel it upon her brow as she tried to slumber. And what of these special powers, discussed so freely by the two curious girls? And the blood, of the truest red, that was wished to be brought with the aid of this Santa fellow? Santa, who was he and where did I know him from before? These questions plagued my freezing mind, my hat covered in heaven’s feather-like, white teardrops, and I still could not step - my body positioned like the stationary David, forevermore. And suddenly, the light and that ghastly head flickered in the window, back to life. CHINCHILLA: I’m not tired, I slept all day! SOoooOOooOOoo hungover. [she moans as the plastic shifts and BUNNY moves about, frustrated in her bed] And I think I’m going to name my little friend Pattinson. Because he kind of sparkles. Like hot vampires do. I wish I sparkled that would be so cool, and when I go out to hunt men I would like see all these guys and I would be sparkly and how could they look away?! BUNNY: [resigned plumping of the plastic.] CHINCHILLA: RIGHT?! [plastic does not reply.] NARRATOR: This girl posed herself as such a puzzle in my mind, and I fear that I can only now show my deepest regret in the failure of my wit to be called to action at that very moment. She was, I thought at the time, for such an animated and lubricious voice, a very pale and a very morbid looking face. She left the room with that so drained face, and the plastic wrinkled and wrangled underneath her dear friend’s poor, sleeping soul in her absence. The two girls, I thought, looked more painful than my poor Grandmother did, when I most accidentally and severely dropped her favorite purple tea pot onto my sturdy and fibrous foot, - and albeit covered and socked foot, due to a slight excess of hair on the utmost top that my Grandmother finds, in her worn and crude manners to be ‘retch-worthy’. [composing cough, as he comes to find this sentiment as embarassing and unnecessary as the listener does] The speaker forgives her of this, as youth cannot condemn age when he knows not the suffering of age. Still, we bleed. Where was this Santa fool to be when he was so direly needed and so desperately called for? CHINCHILLA: [sound of hard body flopping itself onto the plastic] Whore, why haven’t you taken the plastic off your bed yet it’s been like three days since you got it? BUNNY: I’m too tired. CHINCHILLA: [as she says this plastic bounces up and down with her animated movements.] YOU WEREN’T TIRED LIKE RIGHT AFTER SUNSET WHEN YOU ATE ALL MY BLOODY TOMATOES OUT OF THEIR CAN AND SUCKED THE JUICE ALL UP. You wolfed that shit down, girl. BUNNY: Oh, not really. Not yet. [scratches at the plastic, almost menacing.] CHINCHILLA: SO anyway, Pattinson Robert Cullen is not tired and we are going to go take a walk and maybe pick up some hotties. AW, balls, it’s still snowing out! I don’t want to get wet. Snow, go away! [plastic loosens as she gets up.] NARRATOR: A chill swept over me. A chill that had nothing to do with the divine snow still yet piling itself up onto my hat, almost like a Halo, a small ring of protection, and in retrospect now, I may attribute this holy sheathing to my fortunate escape. But rather, the chill came from the sudden termination of the snowfall, just as the brown-head cried it so. She stepped gracefully, but in this grace there was a sort of inhuman quality, a sort of malice that indulged in its own sleekness. She was at the window now, and I shuddered. [Silence for a short period of 10 seconds.] CHINCHILLA: Oh my God! Some drunk guy is peeing outside our window! Look! NARRATOR: I was not peeing! [SUPER OFFENDED AND DEFENSIVE! then, regains his posure, and tries to be polite once more, with effort, but fails. Voice starts slightly composed but crescendoes as the speech goes on and is almost at an angry screech by “Hell”.] I mean to say, this Madam ‘Chinny’, was - a - liar. The falsehoods that she began to utter gave way to her unmasking, and they will only land her in the dankest pits of Hell! I, a refined man of upstanding valor, would not be caught even tempted by Satan to be relieving myself on the streets, in which the public so often take refuge. It would be a crime, a crime punishable by law. [remembers purpose of story, as he was somewhat side-tracked in his attack of CHINCHILLA and resumes his ominous tones.] And here, I will say, it is a crime. Much like the crimes, oh, the gruesome crimes the missus will commit. The crimes that I, being of such courageous heart, must have been preordained by God to witness and thus bear their splintering, wooden crucifix upon my back; the crimes that are yet to come...[ominous, foreboding, back in his thought-train.] BUNNY: What, oh, wow, cool. [not shifting, the plastic lies still.] CHINCHILLA: Did you HEAR ME?! Some drunk guy is peeing outside our window. NARRATOR: [in a mumble, an undertone.] I still maintain I was very well not. CHINCHILLA: And now the snow’s all gross and yellow yuck. Did you hear me? Okay. I think he left. Or at least he’s crouched behind something like a little hunchback weirdo. NARRATOR: Excuse me, for I must interrupt. I would again, like to recall to the listener than certain words and events and names have been compromised. These words, slanderous words, are not what one first-hand historian would call fact-based. CHINCHILLA: GOD NARRATOR shut your stuffed pie hole and let me get on with the story! It’s my turn to talk. NOW Bunny, alright, alright. I’m sorry, I know I’ll let you have your little time to yourself sleep whatever you want to call it. Good night. [steps leaving. plastic rattles a little and BUNNY finally finds her resting place. All is still. Silence.] NARRATOR: [coughs, indignantly.] The stillness from the room above elicited a morose shiver down my spine. I moved my feet, the plastic sounds which intuited the movements of the body above moved in accordance with my steps. I say again, I was not in movement to relieve myself of excrement of any sort, rather, I had finally begun to understand the hellish fires that burned with the lights above, the lights above that the flakes of God could not even quell. It was then, in my course of circling below, crossing myself - and I am not as of usual a superstitious, flimsy, sort of man, by Jove - then I was able to see. God be with me, I thought. This Santa, I remembered then. I dredged up from my pool of ghastly memories; memories from catechisms and prayers whispered in hallowed spaces of Churches in towns of my travels; Santa was a man who wore only red, and visited the world only a single, grim, night a year. Saint, they called him. Saint of the red-nosed, Saint of the black, plastic bag in which gifts are carried to be given to those devoted to his pagan occult. Santa, was no doubt, a shorthand for Satan. ‘God be with me’, I said as I crossed myself from marble-smooth forehead to sinwey shoulder and back to the heart, the ‘bloody tomato’ that which these women so wanted to possess. These women, hardly can I speak of them as girls any longer, after I had enlightened as to what they were. Indeed, the white and waxen, star-crossed abominations: these women were of the militia of the Un-Dead. And HBO, why, I gathered then must have been another shorthand, standing for Human Blood (type) O. It was, at this point, clear to me what I must do. But before I could enact the plans that were bountifully blooming in my head, I heard the plastic shiver once more, and the brown-haired voice call out: CHINCHILLA: [calling from the other room, the plastic wrinkles softly.] HEY. BUNNY. That Aunt Jemima in the fridge, is that yours? Can I have some? NARRATOR: I prayed. Poor, poor Aunt Jemima, for whomever were her nieces and nephews, they would never be to look on her sweet face ever again. BUNNY: [sighs, and hits furiously the plastic covering her mattress.] CHINCHILLA: Does one hit mean yes and two no? Yes? BUNNY: [hits plastic once more.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT? BUNNY: [hits plastic.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT? BUNNY: [hits plastic, harder this time, with both hands.] CHINCHILLA: WHAT?!! BUNNY: [kicks plastic furiously, hard, like beating a dummy or a scarecrow.] CHINCHILLA: ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I get it. Lots of hits means hell yes, take a chill pill. Good answer though. Thanks. Goodnight. [still, sounds of the plastic being rolled over upon and wrinkled and slapped can be heard outside the window.] NARRATOR: I saw the diabolical Miss walk into the room once more, she lit the room and so her face was, light and bright with a fervor that can only be inspired by a spiritual madness. She was about to drink, something dark, something thick, from a red-capped bottle. I had to strip my fine, leather mitten off and stuff it in my mouth to keep from screaming, much like my fine, dear, Grandmother had when I stumbled with my socked feet upon her lower back as she was performing some Coney Island, circus-like stunt she called ‘yoga’. I feel learned in my saying that the horror and sin of the drink the women were about to share - Oh, and mistake me not, for it was blood in the bottle, human, mortal blood - would have tormented any man to histrionics, even I, most lion in heart. Oh, their deviant, zoophagus longings made me want to cry out, screech like an owl out, to a God that I now doubt. CHINCHILLA: HEY. [plops on plastic.] This is so good. It’s like delicious and yummy and mmmm. Thanks so much I’m so hungry all the time every night lately. OH my god, I should see if Rober- [sounds of body hitting the plastic moving wildly, and being thrown about on it.] BUNNY: [makes grring and roaring and howling noises.] I am going to kill you! [plastic thrashes about wildly again and it is all we can hear.] NARRATOR: [still hear the playing around of the plastic in the background.] The flowing, red-head yet unseen reared, and I could look no more. I ran, and I ran, and I ran until my legs could run no more. The thrashing of the plastic and the hard, sensuous bodies atop it were a rattle of a coming death. Coming for me, coming for the ones I loved. And I ran, as any man must do in a position such as mine. I ran, far, to get away from those creatures of the so grotesque underworld in which all men of faith must abhor. [plastic thrashing quiets but does not fade away altogether.] And so here, and of the now, I abhor them; I yet again, cannot leave them. [bodies on plastic makes one more feeble turn, and then all is quiet, silence again. Hold for 5 seconds.] The girls, haunt my dreams. The cold faces and the dark, creamy red that they feast upon trickles down their dream-chins and they never let me sleep a wink. ‘How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams.’*

As much as I pray, as much as a man may beg, that these events of this most potent evil had never happened to fall, plunking, onto my head, I must believe that there is a scientific order and purpose to all. Dear Listener, I implore you, take heed of my story. Do not walk the avenues alone, lest of all late in the hours of darkness, and believe with every piece of your innocent and God-fearing soul that these wicked monsters have not died, and will - nay - cannot die. And they will want you, and they will and very well haunt you, as they, every day that I have left on God’s greenest earth, haunt me.

And Grandmother, if you are listening, I will be home around seven, and your supper shall be prepared to sup upon around eight.

*quote comes from Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

#LMAO WHAT #AM I DOING #AND WHY #dracula daily #judge moneybag #dracula #bram stoker #me own #also back then i was an insomniac and mega related to lucy's sleep struggles #and me and my roommates had bedbugs #the great nyc bedbug crisis of 2010 #and i had just gotten a new mattress because it was a new apartment #and i slept with the plastic on the mattress for months #if this is bad i will delete it

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