ERROR: Faulty Software

by Anonymous

Summary:

After another altercation with Valentino, Vox is left to deal with the aftermath himself.

But what happens when Alastor finds him in his vulnerable state? And what happens when Vox's coping mechanisms are less than standard? Will their past bring them together again, or tear them apart?

Notes:

yeah sorry i had to project onto the silly, he's me fr

Chapter 1

Vox covered the jagged crack across his screen with his hand, leaning against one of the cold buildings that formed the dark, maze-like alleyways that littered Hell. He hadn’t moved from that spot since Val struck him hard and Vox curled in on himself in a nest of asphalt and betrayal, gritty pebbles biting into him. 

 

Him and Val had worked together in the same place, towards the same goals for years. Despite knowing Valentino’s tendencies with his whores, Vox thought nothing of it. Whatever Val did was his own business as long as it brought in viewers. Vox knew, thought he knew , he was different. What he had with Val ran deeper than that. He meant something to Val. Was that ever true?

 

Valentino struck Vox like it was second nature, like it was nothing. No hesitation before, no guilt at the aftermath; the white LEDs that ran downwards in max brightness, broken lines along the left side of Vox’s face, shock evident in his expression. No, Val just said something in that uncaring, unwavering tone and left Vox to deal with his injuries. Vox couldn’t make out what Val said, still reeling. He could only hear static.

 

What were they even arguing about? Vox could only remember Val whining about his favorite slut, Angel Dust. Vox felt a brief shudder of jealousy at the mere mention of him. Maybe that’s why Vox was so reactive, quick to brush off Valentino’s ranting so he wouldn’t have to think about who Val’s favorite really was. Now Vox knew the answer to that, and he wasn’t sure being Val’s favorite was a good thing anymore, if it ever was. The argument devolved into a petty screaming match from there.

 

Now though, Vox had nowhere to go. He couldn’t just go back home, and it would be disastrous if the media saw him slumped over in a gross alley like some hopeless drunk. Val would almost certainly be at the V-Tower, waiting on an apology that he wouldn’t get. So for the past minutes that slowly ticked into hours, Vox sat alone, grief worming its way up his chest and onto his face. And when he tried to school his features, morph his mouth and eyes into the practiced smile he often wore, he could not. 

 

Then it started to rain.

 

Of course. Of fucking course, as if this evening couldn’t get any worse, it had to start raining, the familiar pitter-patter filling the quiet streets in a lively chorus. Vox leaned closer to the concrete wall he was propped up against. A downpour could spell trouble for Vox, especially with the less than waterproofed gash across his screen. Shamefully, he choked back a sob as tears stung his eyes, a familiar telltale fuzziness needling its way into his head, clouding his thoughts as the sky darkened and a low battery warning flashed across his face. 

 

<3

 

“My, my! What do we have here?” A familiar radio-filtered voice echoed through the empty street. 

 

Vox’s screen booted to life, screen dim aside from the broken LEDs that glowed a piercing white no matter what he did. Groggily, his eyes peeled open, and he was greeted by none other than Alastor leaning down to his level, a snarky smile adorning his stupid smug face. The unrelenting fuzzy feeling did not disappear on its own like Vox hoped. If anything, it multiplied tenfold, muffling his common sense. Instead of shoving the radio demon, disappearing through a nearby camera, or anything else, he just sat there frozen, looking up at him dumbly as his expression trembled.

 

“This really is a new low for you. The great media demon, laying down to die in an alleyway.” A laugh track accompanied the scathing words. 

 

Vox took a shaky, distorted breath, planning the perfect rebuttal… and let out a crackling wail, doing nothing to hide the artificial tears streaming down his face. Alastor took a step back, briefly startled.

 

“Hm… how unusual.” Alastor pondered, eyes narrowed in thought. 

 

“Go ‘way!” Vox’s shouts were all coated in static. He pushed himself off the ground and started towards the radio demon. Instead, ailed by the broken left side of his screen, his depth perception failed him and he stumbled right into Alastor’s buttoned red coat. 

 

“Hm?” Alastor quirked a brow at Vox’s unbecoming and quite frankly, childish behavior. Vox followed through on his initial plan and shoved Alastor only to fall to the ground. Alastor stood a few feet away, completely unscathed, dusting off his coat where Vox’s hands had been clutching it.

 

“Go ‘way now!” Vox demanded in between stuttering cries. “I don’ wanna!” 

 

“Hmm… what to do with you?” Alastor wondered aloud. “I could just kill you, but where’s the fun in that? Hardly a fair fight.” Alastor’s point was punctuated by a sniffle from Vox. 

 

“Very well then!” Alastor announced after a few moments. Vox jolted at the noise. “It would be wise for you to be on your way.”

 

“Way where?” Vox sat upright, gazing up at the dumbfounded demon above him. 

 

“You’re serious.” Alastor tested. Vox just blinked at him. Alastor raised his hand, smacking Vox across the already injured side of his face.

 

“Why?!” Vox just shrieked. “Why, Al?!” Alastor’s ears perked at the nickname. He hadn’t heard that one out of Vox in 7 years.

 

“I couldn’t have you tricking me with this… immature behavior.” He gestured to Vox with his hand. “Do you take me for a fool?” 

 

“Nuh uh!” Vox insisted, shaking his head. 

 

“You…” There was a glint of something as Alastor’s expression tightened. Pity? No, Vox knew better, even in his state. “Go home, Vox.”

 

Vox froze for a second, screen buffering before crying, “No! No, don’t wanna!” 

 

“Vox, how old are you right now?” Alastor asked. Though the words were vaguely familiar on his tongue, it felt like a silly thing to ask.

 

Vox thought for a few moments. “Little,” his mumbling voice trailed off in shame.

 

“Alright. I will provide you shelter for the night, and you will tell me what caused you such distress tomorrow.” There was a genuine upward pull to Alastor’s smile. Or Vox was imagining it.

 

“Make deal?” Vox held out a hand, knowing how these agreements often went. Alastor took it, but instead of the expected green sparks, the pair melted into the shadows, reappearing moments later in Alastor’s hotel room.

 

Vox whipped around in awe, eagerly taking in the new setting, smiling despite the still visible tear tracks. “Magic trick!” 

 

“Ha ha. Yes, you could call it that, hm?” Vox nodded. “Now, what to do with you…” Alastor hummed.

 

“Cold.” Vox pouted, shivering in his wet suit. 

 

“That certainly won’t do.” The radio demon, after a bit of rummaging, presented Vox with a set of deep red pajamas. “Here. I assume you can do the rest.”

 

<3

 

Vox was greeted with a warm cup of hot cocoa when he emerged from the restroom after some stumbling, flapping around the slightly too long sleeves of his shirt. Alastor turned to the sound of the door opening, towards the TV demon.

 

“So wonderful of you to join me. Sit.” Alastor motioned next to him on the bed. Vox obeyed, throwing himself onto the spot, kicking his feet.

 

He grabbed at the hot chocolate, which Alastor held a little out of his grasp. “For me?”

 

“You will not make a mess.” Alastor instructed sternly, handing the treat over. Vox slowed his swinging feet, taking a careful sip.

 

“Yummy, Al! Thank you!” 

 

“It would do you good to get some rest.” The radio demon ordered, standing up.

 

“Where you sleeping?” Vox looked on with wide, curious eyes. He gripped the red comforter draped over the bed, crinkling the fabric.

 

“Do not fret. I will be back when it is morning.” Alastor said, voice a level above a whisper. 

 

“Al stay?” Vox tried.

 

“You will call for me if you need anything.” Alastor compromised. 

 

“‘Kay.” The little demon seemed satisfied with that, if not somewhat sad.

 

“Goodnight, Vox.” 

 

“Night-night!” Vox ducked under the blankets, and Alastor turned down the lights, leaving a small lamp on dimly. When Vox got like this, he was afraid of the dark, Alastor recalled. Before he lingered on that for too long, he disappeared into the shadows and back into his radio tower.

 

Alastor gritted his teeth, letting out a huff of frustration in the empty room. Why did he do that? Inviting Vox, the enemy, into his room, giving up his bed, and for what? Because he was upset? Because he was hurt? That couldn’t be true; Alastor laughed at the TV demon in worse circumstances. The way terror overtook Vox in his vulnerable state when Alastor mentioned home… Alastor assumed it was inevitable. He warned Vox to be wary of that moth he seemed so fond of. It was surprising in Alastor’s opinion, that it took so long for it to sour. He supposed he wouldn’t know, though. Maybe it had died a long time ago, and Vox was hanging on to a rotting corpse of a relationship. He was pathetic enough to do just that, Alastor reasoned. 

 

Then why did he care? 

 

The question stuck in the back of Alastor’s mind, but he refused to entertain that train of thought. He helped Vox out of that alley to hold the whole ordeal over his head later. Nothing more. And tomorrow, Vox would be on his own. 

Chapter 2

Notes:

GUYS OMFG
i am so flattered and overwhelmed with the praise this silly little story is getting. i woke up the day after posting to more than 100 kudos?! i never imagined smthn like this would do so well, and tbh i was expecting a lot of hate (which is why the comments r moderated! i dont want ppl who are enjoying the story bogged down by all that)

JUST

AHH zOMG TYSM TO EVERYONE WHO COMMENTED TOO U GUYS R ALL SO SWEET, EARLY CHAPTER 2 4 U!!

ALSO BIG TW at the beginning for sexual abuse and rape. it is also mentioned l8r but everything in the beginning italics are mainly what i'd avoid if u are sensitive to that sort of thing

tysm 4 reading!

“Come here, amorcito,” Val purred, the sound resonating in the pair’s quiet room. It was late, everyone else was either asleep or at home.

 

Despite this, Vox was still at his desk, working overtime on the newest shiny VoxTek product. He pretended not to hear Valentino, occupying his screen with tech schematics he pretended to analyze meticulously, like they were the most interesting thing in the world. In truth, he was exhausted, but he didn’t want to sleep with Val tonight. He would always try something, groping Vox without any warning, usually until it escalated. Val probably meant nothing by it. He only wants to help me destress, Vox thought.

 

Vox was pulled out of his dreary haze by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up with a soft smile. Val was so sweet when he showed he cared. 

 

“Love, all this overtime is bad for you.” Val draped himself over Vox’s back in a hug, resting his head in the crook of Vox’s neck. “Come to bed. I know you’re tired.” Vox shuddered at all the sudden contact, fans whirring to life.

 

“You’re-” Vox hesitated. He wouldn’t want to upset Val by disagreeing. It was too late for him to handle that properly. “You’re probably right.” Vox rose from his computer chair, relieved when Val’s arms released him. 

 

“I’m always right, dear.” Val said cockily, taking Vox’s hand and practically dragging him to bed. 

 

Once the two were lying side by side, Val’s arms wrapped around Vox’s waist with his head once again nestled into the crook of his neck, Vox began to drift off to sleep. He supposed this was Val's way of showing he loved Vox, not letting him overwork himself to the point of falling asleep at his desk again. Maybe he did care, even after they fought so much in the past months. Maybe they could make this work.

 

He was snapped out of the comforting lull of sleep by Val’s fingers raking gently up his leg once, then twice. Vox stiffened. Did Val think he was asleep?

 

Before Vox knew it, Val’s hands were on his cock, mouth kissing and biting his neck greedily. Vox, mind racing, just laid there, pretended to be asleep. Did Val know he was awake? Was he doing this just to mess with Vox, to assert some weird power over him? As Val’s advances continued, Vox froze there powerlessly, wishing he really was asleep.

 

And then he woke up.

 

Not recognizing his own room immediately only frightened Vox more as yesterday’s events washed over him. He slipped in front of Alastor in a dingy alleyway. A wave of red-hot shame washed over him as he hid from no one, curling in on himself like it would make him invisible. The memory left him feeling dirty. He was disgusting for letting that happen, and since he didn't say no, he shouldn’t get to cry over it, Vox scolded himself.

 

“Alastor,” he whispered, his mouth moving before his mind. Even so, Vox was caught off-guard by the almost invisible being in the shadows materializing in front of him.

 

“You called?” The radio demon’s chipper announcer voice was hushed, matching the stillness of the night. 

 

Vox flinched, glitch momentarily taking over his screen. “N-no.” His bluffing was obvious.

 

“I must have misheard you then. Goodnight.” 

 

“Wait!” Vox shouted, cringing at his apparent desperation.

 

“Yes?” Alastor drew the word out impatiently. 

 

“I-” Vox hesitated, realizing how stupid it sounded out loud, “I had a nightmare.”

 

“You had a nightmare.” Alastor deadpanned. 

 

A beat of silence.

 

“It’s stupid. You should go.” Vox shrugged.

 

“Tell me about it.” 

 

“What?”

 

“Your nightmare.” Alastor humored. “Tell me about it.”

 

“I’m not fucking 5.”

 

“Really? You could have fooled me.” 

 

“Asshole. I can’t just stop… that… once it's happening.” Vox averted his gaze uncomfortably. 

 

“I do recall.” At Vox’s silence, Alastor spoke. “Are you going to tell me about your little nightmare?”

 

“It was about Val.” The statement came out in a restrained mumble. Vox didn't want what he was saying to be true, but it was painfully so. He put all his trust in Val and here Vox was, afraid of the man he's supposed to love.

 

“Is that right?” Alastor confirmed in such an uncharacteristically sweet voice that Vox felt himself slipping again, unwelcome warm fuzzies invading his head like a virus.

 

“Sstop it.” 

 

“Stop what? What’s the matter, little one?” Alastor doubled down as Vox’s lower lip trembled. It’s too easy, Alastor laughed inwardly.

 

“Scary!” Vox threw himself at Alastor in a hug which was reluctantly returned. 

 

“What’s scary?” Alastor kept up that caring act.

 

“Val touched me bad! When he thinked I was s’eeping.” Vox suddenly didn’t have a full grasp of the gravity of his partner’s actions, but Alastor stiffened at Vox’s hiccuping cries. 

 

“And you didn’t want him to?” Alastor already knew the answer. 

 

“Nuh-uh! And he hurted my face too!” Vox sniffled.

 

“You poor thing... And that’s why you can’t go home?” Alastor concluded, sounding almost worried for his rival.

 

“Mhm…” Vox nodded. “No s’eep!” He pinned on hurriedly.

 

“Very well, then. Let’s go for a walk, hm?” Alastor stood, Vox taking his hand and trailing behind the taller demon. Alastor opened the door, and the pair walked down the early dawn-lit winding hotel halls. 

 

“Pretty…” Vox admired, gazing upwards to take in the ornate architecture. 

 

“But of course! This is the Princess’s hotel, after all.”

 

“Alastor?” Speaking of, a familiar blonde rounded the corner. Alastor's eyes narrowed at the minor disruption. “I thought I heard someone crying, is- is that the TV overlord?” Charlie blinked, stunned, like Vox standing there with his screen brutally cracked was just a figment of her imagination. “Is he okay? What is he doing here?”

 

“I was out on business today when I stumbled upon an old pal,” Alastor laughed dryly. Vox clamped his mouth shut, nodding while trying to appear as normal as possible. Word getting out about his weakness could only spell trouble. 

 

“And you’re… getting along?” Charlie almost squealed at the prospect.

 

“You could say that.” Alastor agreed begrudgingly if for no other reason than to end the conversation faster.

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful Alastor!” Charlie would have hugged him if she didn’t understand the radio demon’s need for personal space. 

 

“Indeed.” 

 

“I could’ve swore I heard crying though… Are you sure everything is okay?” Charlie’s brows knitted together in concern.

 

“Quite certain.” Alastor confirmed. Vox nodding in agreement was enough to quell Charlie’s concerns for the moment.

 

“Well… okay. See you in the morning.” Charlie promised before turning the corner and hurrying away with all the energy of a golden retriever.

 

Vox, who had remained statue-like and stiff while trying his best not to arouse suspicion, waited until the coast was clear. “That was way too close…” He sighed out in relief. Evidently, the event had pulled him out of his younger headspace. 

 

“Hm.” Alastor hummed noncommittally. 

 

“You-u fucking asshole!” Vox’s screen glitched in his anger.

 

“What ever do you mean?” It wasn’t genuine, a mischievous energy lining the radio demon’s perpetual smile.

 

“You used your fucking mind games to get information out of me!” Vox fumed.

 

“I calmed you down from your silly nightmare, and you volunteered information in return. I would hardly call it manipulation!” 

 

“How much did I tell you? Oh, fu-uck.” Vox gripped his screen in his hands, panic rising in his chest. What he and Alastor had has been over for 7 years. Vox couldn’t keep letting Alastor see him like this , disclosing his deepest secrets because of something that was long over . Simply put, Alastor was still a threat no matter how disarming he appeared.

 

“In any case, you will need a place to stay, correct?” Alastor’s expression was unreadable, and Vox swore he saw a glimmer of sympathy before dismissing it. The radio demon did not feel sympathy, not even for Vox. Especially not for Vox.

 

“Are you seriously implying I stay here? At the princess’s pipe dream pet project?” But Vox knew that the kindness offered here was a rarity in Hell, and he might have no other choice than to take advantage of it unless he wanted to go home to Val.

 

“Where else will you go?” 

 

“I–” Vox paused, reality hitting him in the form of cold dread. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

 

“Well–” Alastor started, but was quickly interrupted.

 

“This is it. It’s over for me! I’m ruined, I’m done!” Vox spiraled, screen overrun with static, broken white LEDs somehow glowing brighter.

 

“Enough, Vox.” Alastor said calmly, placing a hand on Vox’s shuddering shoulder. Vox flinched, almost shrugging the comforting presence away, but he didn’t. In fact, he even felt his heart rate slowing. Alastor guided them away from the halls and back into the safety of his room.

Notes:

lol the doc for this is 32 pages long in 3 days

Chapter 3

“Darling?” Valentino asked from outside the locked door of Vox’s room. “Can I come in?”

 

“Go away, Val.” Vox sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, prodding at the crack his partner left in his screen. It would heal fast, but it stung like a bitch.

 

“Don’t be like that. I bought you a gift.” He tempted. Vox took the bait. He crept over to the door, peeking through just enough to make out the moth holding a brilliant bouquet of red roses. 

 

“Ohh, you poor thing.” Val fretted at the mark he left, swinging the door wide open to cradle Vox’s face in his hand. Val slipped in and into the bathroom, preparing a vase of cool water for the vibrant flowers. He set them down at Vox’s desk, where he knew Vox liked them most. They brightened up the often dull scenery of his job. Vox’s heart melted at the gesture.

 

“Aww, Val…” Vox smiled, wincing at the sharp pain that accompanied it. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

 

“That’s alright, love,” Val reassured, producing a small first aid kit. “Let me take care of you.”

“That’s how it usually goes,” Vox explained to the persistent radio demon sitting to his right. Vox claimed he wasn't tired when he was still too shaken to go back to sleep, and Alastor claimed he didn’t trust his enemy alone in his room. So they talked.

 

“Why do you apologize to him,” Alastor inquired, “when you are always the one who’s been hurt?”

 

“Val just- apologizes differently is all… Besides, forcing him to say sorry? Ha!” Vox laughed; it was absurd to imagine Val begging for Vox’s forgiveness. Alastor, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find it that funny. 

 

“I see.” Alastor gave a judgemental stare.

 

“And while I would love to deal with Val being pissy for the rest of eternity, I have a company to run.” Vox bit out sarcastically, a pang of dread running through him at the consequences his absence must be causing. 

 

“Hm.” Alastor let the silence stretch out under the guise of deep thought.

 

“I don’t know how to apologize this time.” Vox admitted, eyes fixed on his lap. “He usually does something nice, and,” he sighed wetly, “and he’s not going to do that this time.” A brief image of the rage and hatred Valentino had in that moment ran through Vox’s mind.

 

“Separate him from your network.” Alastor stated it bluntly, like it was as simple as that.

 

“What?!” Vox turned sharply towards Alastor. 

 

“What?” Alastor’s smile reached his voice. “Is that pest really worth all the trouble?”

 

“Uh, yeah?” Vox said it like it was obvious. “Sex sells, not like you’d know.”

 

“Very interesting.” Alastor’s voice crackled with power, the space around him darkening just slightly. Vox paled. He just insulted the radio demon in his own room. Shit. But before it escalated, Alastor assumed his normal form, like nothing had happened.

 

“If you fear him so much, who is really in control? Think about it, old pal.” The pair sat in silence while Vox grappled with that, Alastor gazing out the window at the red sunrise warming the room. Old pal, huh?

“Coffee?” Alastor offered the hurried TV demon. Vox was running late. Again.

 

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

 

“That’s not something I hear every day.” A campy sitcom laugh track accompanied his joke.

 

Vox choked on his coffee mid-sip. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “You’re not funny.”

 

“Right.” The radio demon agreed, amused.

 

“Yeah! Right!” Vox retorted while gathering his notes for the day. His gaze softened. “See you after work.”

 

“Likewise.”

“It’s almost about time we head out there, hm?” Alastor’s statement snapped Vox out of his thoughts.

 

“Nope. No way.” Vox immediately disagreed. “And let the whole world know I’m here and weak enough for another overlord to pick off?” 

 

“You sure did a good job of fending me away yesterday,” Alastor remarked, a laugh track following. He only found more amusement in the way Vox’s screen flushed to an angry reddish pink, broken parts of his display flickering in and out ever so slightly. He’s healing well, Alastor thought before catching himself feeling relieved. Vox scowled at Alastor and his theatrics.

 

“I can assure you that word of your presence will not leave the hotel.” A loud, humming static in the air indicated Alastor was already fulfilling his promise. “Better to go out there than to hide like a scared child, hm?”

 

“Oh, fuck you.”

 

<3

 

Once ready for the day, Vox donning his now dry and clean suit ( Had Alastor done that? ), the pair walked out to the main room, already as bustling and alive as ever. Charlie and Vaggie were at a table discussing the next team activity, and Husk and Angel were at the bar, deep in conversation. Niffty zoomed back and forth with a needle in hand, one bug already skewered. A hush fell over the room at the sight of Alastor and Vox, a few confused mutters filling the otherwise dead air. Vaggie drew her spear before Charlie put a gentle hand on her shoulder, whispering something to her.

 

“Good day! You may have noticed our new guest. He will be residing here for now.” Alastor started. “Any questions?”

 

“Yeah-” Angel was the first to speak up.

 

Alastor’s grin grew wider before he wordlessly walked away, disappearing into the shadows after eyes were off him, leaving Vox by himself to deal with the incoming onslaught.

 

“What the fuck is the TV demon doing here?” Angel finally shouted, breaking the stunned silence. All eyes were on Vox now; the attention he normally reveled in was soured by nerves. Instead of answering, Vox kept his head down and went over to the bar.

 

“Give me something strong.” Vox grumbled out, and Husk wordlessly got to work, the rhythm of the main room gradually returning to full swing as Vox downed his drink, unflinching to the burning sensation in his throat that followed. Angel stared from the other side of the bar as Husk poured Vox another, only a few feet away from the broken-down overlord. 

 

“So. What happened to you?” Angel held back a laugh with a toothy grin as the powerful TV demon wallowed in his misery, flat face down on the table, held up only by his crossed arms.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Vox shot back.

 

“Uh, yeah? That’s why I’m askin’.” Angel leaned in closer. Vox chose not to respond, and after a few moments, Angel nudged him. 

 

“Hey-”

 

“Don’t touch me.” Vox didn’t move otherwise, and Angel let him be. At least he seemed harmless for now, Angel decided, along with the rest of the hotel residents.

 

“The fuckin’ internet keeps going out.” Angel muttered to himself.

 

“I noticed that too.” A deeper voice acknowledged. The pair both glanced at Vox, now sitting with his face resting in his hand, his expression glazed over. They ripped their eyes away from the sad display and continued to gossip in hushed whispers until a chime from Angel’s phone sounded.

 

“Ugh, Val.” Angel huffed. “He’s bein' extra bitchy today.”

 

“Fucking Val.” Vox agreed without thinking, words slipping past his half-drunk mind.

 

“Ha! Even you can’t stand him?” Angel couldn’t hold back his amusement this time. 

 

“He’s such a fuckin’ asshole!” Vox’s words were slurred. Great. His screen was broken, and he was drunk before noon. Just peachy.

 

“You can say that again.”

 

“He thinks he’s the shit, walkin’ ‘round like he owns the place! In front of me! Such a pompous bitch.” 

 

“His scripts are hot garbage too! Havin’ to read that crap with a straight face? ‘ Oh , there’s so many cocks, but only one me!’” They both devolved into laughter at the sheer absurdity of it. 

 

“Hard to believe you’re his favorite when he’s got you reading shit like that.” Vox said airily.

 

“I’m– what?” Angel stopped in his tracks. 

 

“Oh, yeah. Val makes sure I know that. He makes damn sure I’m aware of it, every day.” Vox felt a lump forming in his throat, his voice a strained whisper by the last few words. Suddenly, Vox wasn’t having fun anymore.

 

“Are you like… okay?” 

 

“Fuckin’,” he swallowed tensely, “Yeah, I’m great. Never been better.”

 

Angel raised a brow at Vox, unconvinced.

 

“I’m fine . Val’s just—just the worst.” 

 

“Wait,” Angel drew out, “did he, y’know–?” Angel motioned to the left side of his own face, Vox’s injured side. Vox only shrugged before lying against the glossy bar table to hide, but his frame was wracked with sobs. Angel rested a hand on him. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Angel tried. “Well, no, it fuckin’ isn’t, but he ain’t here right now. He’s not going to hurt you.” 

 

“Mhm…” Vox hardly noticed it, but between the high emotions and alcohol, he was slipping hard and fast. “H-he’s gonna, a-and-!”

 

“What have we here?” Alastor appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Angel jumped, but Vox was too distracted, his hearing muffled by the table he was using as a pillow, and Husk was all too used to the radio demon’s shenanigans. 

 

“Jeez, do you always have to be so creepy?!” Angel shuddered. Alastor ignored him entirely.

 

“Vox.” Alastor addressed in an almost imperceptibly softer tone. The shorter demon looked up, not bothering to lift his head. “Do you need time alone?” 

 

“I– I don’ know!” He wailed, and all eyes were drawn to him for the second time today, and for the second time today he hated the feeling. All he knew was he was scared and he was being bad right now. He was misbehaving and he was causing a scene.

 

“Come now.” Alastor took the trembling blue-clawed hand in his, and Vox followed him. Silence filled the empty hall, broken up by the occasional sniffle. 

 

Wouldn’t it have been more fun to watch it play out? Alastor wondered to himself. Watch Vox, his enemy, embarrass himself in front of everyone? Allow the news of his injuries to get out, and make Vox deal with the trouble he caused? Maybe his network would crumble. What a PR nightmare! So why didn’t he let that happen? And why was Vox regressing more than normal? It never used to be this typical or this bad.

“Al…” A small voice cut through the quiet lull of midnight. Darkness overtook the unassuming residence of the radio demon and the TV demon. Alastor stirred from his slumber.

 

“Hm?” Drowsiness carried over to Alastor’s voice.

 

“‘S dark in my room.” Vox responded with a nervous edge.

 

“How old are you, Vox?” It was a rare question now, but Alastor still held it close in his mind for his companion.

 

“Sm… small.” Vox would usually have trouble pinpointing an exact age for his headspace, but the confirmation he gave was always enough.

 

“I see. Come here, then.” Alastor squinted at the light emitting from Vox’s screen.

 

“Thanks, Al!” He scurried in, shutting the door after peering into the hallway for monsters and finding none. He practically leaped onto the bed, rattling Alastor, who let out a discontented murmur. 

 

“Say, Voxy.” Alastor asked, already lying back down. 

 

“What?” Vox replied while burying himself in as many blankets and pillows as he could.

 

“How can you be afraid of the dark when your screen lights up so bright?” 

 

“Monsters! And scary stuff.” Vox retorted like Alastor had asked the stupidest question in the world. “Duh.”

 

“Right.” A sarcastic smile lined Alastor’s words. “Of course.” He supposed that no matter what, Vox would be his same stubborn self. 

The pair eventually reached Alastor’s room. He opened the door, guiding Vox inside.

 

“We really ought to get you your own room at this point, hm?” Once the door was closed, Vox spoke.

 

“Sorry, Al.” His arm went up to block his face. “No hit, please?” 

 

“Hm?”

 

“You hitted me once, a-and… Val-” 

 

Now, that was new.  

 

“What happened, little one?”

“Aww, Voxy!” Val grinned at the surprise hug from Vox after making up from one of their fights. 

 

“Don’t call me that.” Vox mumbled back lightheartedly, hoping that Val would listen without taking it the wrong way. Val wouldn’t like it if Vox regressed now. He would likely want make-up sex, and Vox felt sick at that idea.

 

“Oh, why not Voxy ?” Valentino assessed the troubled face of the TV demon.

 

“Don’t like it,” was all he could come up with, fog rounding the edges of his mind.

 

“You better not be doing that thing again,” Valentino ground out in disgust. 

 

“Can’t– can’t help it,” Vox returned, fear building in his chest.

 

“Can’t help it?” Valentino barked out a laugh, and Vox jumped away, toppling onto the floor. The moth that towered over him leaned down and smacked Vox, leaving a dent in his TV frame, his neck aching at the force his head jerked back at. 

 

“Next time, you’ll think before misbehaving.”

 

And later, Val would apologize with a gift, or another bundle of flowers, or a fancy date. He would treat the wound he inflicted, and the pair would resume life as normal for a few weeks more. But for now, Vox was alone. The bedroom door slammed shut, followed by a frustrated yell.

“I see.” Alastor begrudgingly let Vox lean into him sometime during his rambling story. The poor thing was clearly tired, alcohol and stress getting to his head. “I apologize for hurting you.”

 

“Is okay.” Vox tilted his head to look up at Alastor with those wide, trusting eyes. “I know you did’n’ mean it.” Vox thought he imagined the quiet noise of Alastor’s breath hitching. 

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Mhm! ‘Cause you’re my fav’rite!” 

 

“Is that right?” 

 

“Uh-huh!”

 

The room grew still for a few comfortable moments. Then, there was a knock on the door. Vox jolted away from Alastor, timidly looking at the taller for instructions. Alastor put a finger over his lips as if to say, “Shh, quiet.”

 

“Hello?” Charlie’s concerned voice greeted them on the other side of the door. “Is– is Vox in there?” It felt strange to be addressing yet another overlord so casually.

 

“No. Is something the matter?” Alastor returned without missing a beat.

 

“Oh…” Charlie deflated. “No, but if you see him, let him know there’s a room set up for him!” 

 

“I will be sure to relay the message.”

 

“Thank you, Alastor.” The princess’s grin was carried in her words. As her footsteps faded into the background, Vox admired the radio demon, awestruck.

 

“Cool!” Vox complimented, grabbing Alastor’s hand in both of his.

 

“What are you doing?” Alastor wondered aloud.

 

“Hold hands!” Vox explained matter-of-factly.

 

“I see. Very interesting. Absolutely enlightening.” A peal of laughter escaped Vox at Alastor’s mock fascination.

 

They stayed a while that way.

Notes:

me when the "not central to the story" is still decently central to the story

edit: u guys are not ready for this next chapter >:3

Chapter 4

Notes:

OMFG TYSM FOR 300 KUDOS??? u guys r crazy <333 hope u enjoy the chapter!

Vox woke up with a start for the second time since arriving at the hotel, clutching the familiar comforter. When had he fallen asleep? Sluggish memories came trickling back to him. He’d gone into his younger headspace in front of everyone. His face flushed a mortified red.

 

Furthermore, he sat with the radio demon, told him more about his relationship with Val, about things Alastor did not need to know, and then they talked more and fucking played like he was fucking 5. Ugh , his head was pounding.

 

“I was wondering when you’d wake up.” Alastor greeted Vox, placing a glass of water by his bedside and smirking at the TV demon’s embarrassed expression.

 

“When did I fall asleep?” Vox took the water, sipping slowly. 

 

“Shortly after you so rudely refused to return my hand.” Alastor enjoyed seeing Vox ball up in shame. 

 

“You’re kidding.” Vox pleaded.

 

“I am not.”

 

Vox didn’t dignify Alastor with a response, instead gazing out the nearest window. It was mid-day by now. Shit. He’d been sleeping a lot, but he didn’t feel any more rested; not with Val on his mind, and the fact that he just disappeared like that. He wondered about how Valentino was doing. Was Val still mad? Maybe he should go, and–

 

“ What is going on in that flat, empty head of yours?” Alastor ripped Vox away from his thoughts.

 

“It’s not empty, for your information!” 

 

“That’s news to me,” Alastor shot back. “But really, what could you be thinking about so hard?”

 

“How do you–?”

 

“Your internal fans.” Alastor cut Vox off again. “They are quite obnoxious.”

 

“You’re obnoxious! Do you ever shut up?!”

 

“ You do?” Alastor’s question was pointed. Vox only glared back. “Good boy, there you go!” His praise was dripping with sarcasm, but it was enough to fluster Vox again, aforementioned fans whirring at high speed.

 

“Alastor, what– ”

 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Alastor dodged.

 

“That’s none of your business.” Vox refused.

 

“Very well.” Alastor conceded. “There is a room set up for you.” 

 

“What? I can’t stay.” Vox shook his head. As much as he dreaded going back, he could already hear the chaos unfolding at the V-Tower in his absence. He could imagine Velvette throwing a fit at Valentino’s attitude. They would scream at each other forever without a mediator. 

 

“You,” Alastor hesitated , only slightly, but enough for Vox to notice because the radio demon did not hesitate, “want to go back.” 

 

“I have to.” Vox corrected.

 

“You do not.” Did the lights get dimmer?  

 

“I have a company to run. Unlike some people, I can’t take a 7-year long vacation over a breakup.” Vox wished he could take it back as soon as it carelessly tumbled out of him. 

 

“That’s not what we were, but do feel free to keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night. Go to your room.” A nerve was struck on both ends, Alastor’s smile strained and his words icy. Vox fought the prickly, persistent fuzziness creeping into the back of his mind and the ugly sob in his throat. 

 

“Asshole.” Vox’s forced-out insult held no venom as he stood, stumbled with only one eye to guide him, and slammed the door shut. 

“You want to team up with that insect?” Alastor asked, almost in disbelief. 

 

“Think about it, Al! We could have our claws in a whole new market!” Vox enthused. “Something like this could be huge for us.”

 

“And you think he’s trustworthy?” There was a distrusting lilt to Alastor’s voice.

 

“I don’t think that’s a problem. He’ll listen to us if he knows what’s good for him!” A powerful surge of electric energy crackled at the TV demon’s fingertips at the thought.

 

“You’re being hasty again.” Alastor taunted.

 

“Oh, please! When hasn’t one of my plans worked out?” 

 

“When I’m not around to drag you out of whatever mess you made.” Alastor deadpanned.

 

“Right, like that'd ever happen.”

 

<3

 

“Hey, flatscreen. You been sitting there with that error on your face for a while or what?” Angel drew Vox out of his thoughts, the pop-up error box gone.

 

“I wanna go home.” Vox’s voice came out thinly.

 

“Shit…” Angel was caught off-guard. “Hey, we got a room for you here. You don’t have to go back there.” 

 

“Have to.” Vox’s stare was pinned to the ground. 

 

“Aww, come on. At least check out your room.” Angel insisted, holding out a hand. Vox took it, and Angel pulled him up. The TV demon almost fell, but Angel caught him before he could. 

 

“Woah! You always been such a klutz?” 

 

“My eye. Can’t see right.” 

 

“Is that why you were just sittin’ outside Alastor’s room all sad?” Angel wondered. “He finally get sick of you?”

 

“Nuh-uh! He–” 

 

“You alright? I mean, aside from the obvious lover’s quarrel with smiles.” 

 

“I’m fine!” Vox tried to say it in a way that seemed big, but it felt like wearing a too-large pair of boots. He wasn’t fully in one headspace or another. Vox was at an uncomfortable in-between he couldn’t pull himself out of.

 

“So you do like him then.” Angel decided.

 

“What?!” The shock certainly pulled Vox back to a bigger state of mind, even if just for the moment. 

 

“You didn’t deny the whole ‘lover’s quarrel’ thing,” he pointed out smugly. “It’s here, by the way.” Angel stopped in front of a particular door. “As hard as you’re crushing on him, everyone needs some space from Alastor’s brand of crazy every once in a while.”

 

“That’s not–”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Angel brushed off the TV demon, opening the door to his new room. It was simple and clean, the comforting smell of the freshly laundered blue bed sheets wafted through the air, plain black desk against the wall, sunlight from the window over it lighting the room. Angel flicked on the lights. 

 

“Not too shabby, huh? I helped put it together.” Angel admired his handiwork. 

 

“Wow.” It did look nice. Angel grinned toothily at Vox’s awe. 

 

“Now, would you mind telling me what the deal was earlier?” Angel leaned against the wall. “We all thought you were havin’ a panic attack or some shit.” Oh. Right.  

 

“Ugh… can we just forget it ever happened?” Vox nearly begged. 

 

“Only if you’re alright.” 

 

“Why do you care?!” Vox lashed out, white LEDs flickering to black for a split second. 

 

“‘Cause Val pulls the same shit with me!” Angel pointed out, matching the TV demon’s volume. “I figured,” he calmed, “it wouldn’t suck to stick together.” 

 

“... You’re right,” Vox sighed, defeated.

 

“Yeah? I mean,” Angel corrected, “‘course I am.”

 

“Val really is the worst, huh?” 

 

“Heh, yeah. So, what’re you gonna do about everything?” Angel asked in equal parts curiosity and concern. 

 

“I– I don’t know. Al– Alastor,” he caught himself on a long forgotten nickname, “thinks I should just… fire him.” 

 

“I know we hate that bitch right now, but Al’s got a point. You could totally do that.” 

 

“ We? ” 

 

“Well, if creepy face is starting shit with you after Val beat you half to death, leaving you in the hallway like a sad puppy?” 

 

“Hey–!”

 

“Then, yeah.” Angel finished. “ We hate that bitch.” 

 

“It’s not even his fault.” Vox’s own spiteful words replayed in his head. Unlike some people, I can’t take a 7 year long vacation over a breakup. And Alastor’s response may have stung even worse. That’s not what we were? Was that really true?

 

“Want to tell me what happened?” Angel offered.

 

“Fuck, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” 

 

“You don’t gotta tell me everything. Just– well, what’d he do?” 

 

“I told him I wanted to leave, and he said I should stay,” Vox started.

 

“Okay?”

 

“I told him that I can’t afford to take a 7 year hiatus over a breakup, like he did.” 

 

“Oh, shit!” Angel poorly disguised his laugh with a cough. “Is that for real?” 

 

“ I thought so. He left a few days after he told me to fuck off.” 

 

“Okay, but then what did he do? Was he pissed?” 

 

“It’s stupid.”

 

“No way. I won’t let you leave me on that cliffhanger.” 

 

“Ha, you’re worse than Velvette.” 

 

“Aww, just tell me what he said!” Angel nudged him playfully. 

 

“He said– he said that’s not what we were. That we were never,” It tore at Vox’s heart just to say it, “we were never anything.”

 

“Damn.” Angel took in the new information. “You still have feelings for him?” Vox said nothing, and Angel took that as confirmation.

 

“I’m sure he’ll cool off after a few days. Besides, it kinda seems like your weird thing with him is mutual.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“The fact that he brought you here instead of killing you? And then he lets you sleep in his room? And he rescued you during your panic attack! Are you blind?” Angel laid it all out like it was obvious.

 

“That doesn’t mean anything. He just wants to kill me himself.” 

 

“You’re a real dumbass, you know that?” There was no heat in Angel’s words. “Well, dinner’s soon if you want to join.”

Notes:

i had to cut a pretty big scene out of this that messed up the flow, but now i have a segment written for a future chapter (hopefully!) :D

Chapter 5

Notes:

omfg u guys are the best, showing this little thing i wrote on a whim and fixated on sm love :'D

TW for Val being Val in this chapter, smh my head

Awkward tension swept through the dining room as Vox sat. He felt out of place, to say the least. Everyone still remembered his outburst that morning, and noticed the way Alastor and Vox suddenly seemed to ignore and avoid each other after being almost friendly earlier the same day. Confused and concerned looks were thrown the TV demon's way, but Angel was busy glaring at Alastor from across the table.

 

“How was everyone’s day?” Charlie started, clapping her hands together like it would single-handedly shave off the vibe’s thorny edge. 

 

When nobody volunteered to answer first, Vaggie did. “My day was good, hun. Angel?”

 

“Yeah, fine.” He didn’t break concentrated eye contact with the radio demon.

 

“My day was good! I got 3 bugs.” Niffty announced with a cackle.

 

“That’s… great, Niffty!” Charlie encouraged her despite not knowing if she should condone the maid’s tendencies. “Alastor, how about you?”

 

“Angel, is there something you wanted to say to me?” The radio demon’s smile widened in annoyance. 

 

“Don’t worry about it.” The spider replied scornfully.

 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” 

 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to–”

 

“Enough, both of you.” Vox cut both of them off. A hush fell over the room again. 

 

“Um, Vox!” Charlie anxiously tried to redirect the conversation. “How was your day?”

 

“Just great.” He said with a bitter edge as Alastor stood.

 

“Yes, marvelous indeed, old pal.” The radio demon agreed sarcastically.

 

“Would you just s̷̠͗h̴͎̃ù̴͙t̶̠́ ̵̙̋ṫ̴̙ḧ̸͈́e̴͇͝ ̷̯͋f̶̮͊ú̴̟ĉ̸̺k̸̙̎ ̷͚̀ȗ̵̞p̵͈̎?!” Vox’s words started to skip and stutter over each other, a thin film of static over his face. Alastor, now behind the TV demon, smacked the back of his head. Like that, the skipping stopped and the static vanished.

 

“There, good as new.” 

 

“What the fuck, Alastor?!” Vox turned to see him smiling innocently. 

 

“You seemed to be having some trouble. It would be rude to leave you buffering .” He sneered.

 

“Okay, fuck you.” Vox stood sharply, the chair falling on its side before zapping Alastor with his hands, a current of electricity running through them. Using his power shot a similar pain through Vox’s screen, but it was worth it to see his enemy crumple, even if he hardly showed it. Alastor melted into the shadows.

 

“That’s right, you tacky—” Vox was cut off by Alastor rematerializing behind him, hands hooking behind his screen and tugging. The radio demon sidestepped before Vox fell, his back slamming into the table, unable to right his weakened sense of balance, and sending what remained of his dinner over him. His screen filled with colorful SMPTE bars, a harsh screech ringing through the air.

 

“I’d best be on my way. Goodnight!” Alastor walked down the hall before disappearing, leaving the room in stunned silence. 

 

“Holy shit,” Angel muttered. Even Husk was staring from where he stood at the bar, never one to be nosy. 

 

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?!” Charlie rushed over to the overlord who was still winded from being struck by the hardwood table. 

 

“You didn’t tell me you pissed him off that bad!” Angel crouched down to Vox’s level, standing from the seat next to him. 

 

Wordlessly, Vox stood, wincing at the pain that shot through his body when he did. His hands grabbed onto the table desperately as he leaned back, and he wished he was able to run away from all the disgustingly sympathetic and prying stares without falling and making an even bigger fool of himself. Instead, he walked, pushing past the tiny crowd around him. Vox kept his gaze pinned to the garish carpet floor, blinking away his blurry vision until he reached his room, where he let the digital tears roll down his burning face for what felt like the millionth time that day.

 

Vox shed his suit jacket, which had graciously shielded him from most of the food he was flung into, throwing it carelessly to the side before hiding himself under the fresh covers. All he wanted was to go home and find Val dead in a ditch on the way there. 

 

Vox craved more than anything to sit at his desk at home, to talk with Velvette about the season’s events, and just let her keep talking about whatever she wanted if she’d only keep him company sometimes. He wanted to go to sleep at a reasonable time, not drowning himself in coffee and energy drinks to stay awake past dawn just to avoid Valentino, to rest in a bed that wasn’t empty but wasn’t full of red cigarette smoke and anguish, controlling touches running all along his unwitting body, burning him over time like scorched dust to an ashtray. Was that too much to ask for?

When did it ever stop being the three of them against the world?

“That’s all the time we have for today! Goodnight!” Vox signed off his talk show, his charismatic public persona melting away the moment the cameras were off. He slouched down. What an exhausting fucking day. 

 

“Vox, darling!” Valentino called from the shadows of off-set. “Are you all done for the night?”

 

“Yeah, finally.” 

 

“Hey!” Velvette’s loud voice rang out.

 

“Vel, good to see you.” Vox greeted back.

 

“What a shame. Me and Vox were about to go to bed.” Val grabbed the TV demon by the shoulders. 

 

“We were?” Vox did nothing to hide his confusion.

 

“Ew, Val. Keep it in your pants.” Velvette scrunched up her nose in disgust. 

 

“I was, uh…” Think, Vox! “I was actually hoping that the three of us could go out for drinks.” He kept his voice level. “It’s been a while.”

 

“Damn right, it has been!” Velvette agreed.

 

“You’re sure you aren’t tired?” Valentino checked, leaning down to Vox’s eye level before resting his head in the crook of Vox’s neck. 

 

“I’ll be alright, love.” Truth be told, Vox was more than tired, but he knew he wouldn’t be resting much if he took Val up on his offer of ‘going to bed.’ 

 

“Hurry up, then!” Velvette pushed herself in between the pair, ushering them out the door and into her car, which she would always insist was more stylish. Vox figured it was also to do with the heavy smell of smoke lingering in Valentino’s and Vox’s vehicles. Vox didn’t like to tell Val no, so his car eventually stank of Val’s cigarettes too.

 

They took off, Velvette behind the wheel and the couple in the backseats. Vox looked out the window, quietly admiring the colorful neons that lit the city. His eyes fluttered shut at some point, and he leaned against the window, cold soothing his perpetual caffeine headache. He was startled out of his haze by a hand running up his leg.

 

“Val,” Vox whispered harshly, brows furrowed.

 

“Shh,” Valentino warned without pausing.

 

“You two better not be fucking in the back seat of my car!” Velvette’s scream was enough for Val to move his hand away. Vox breathed out in relief.

 

“We weren’t, doll,” Val replied innocently. 

 

“Yeah, sure.” Velvette bit back, not believing a word. “Vox?”

 

“She’s right.” Vox made eye contact with the moth. “This is her car, don’t try anything.” He regretted it immediately after seeing Val’s jaw clench in anger. 

 

“You guys are the worst.” She rolled her eyes. “Especially you, Val. Gross.” 

 

“Ha!” Vox couldn’t help but laugh. Valentino gave Vox’s thigh a warning squeeze, and he quieted immediately. 

 

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Vox almost dozing off again despite it, they pulled up to their destination. The colorfully lit signage seemed to lure them in. They emerged from the car, Velvette running ahead. It really had been a while since they all talked outside of business hours. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad at all, exhaustion be damned.

 

“Wait up, Vel!” Vox rushed after her, taking Val’s hand and dragging him along. Maybe they would all have a good time.  

 

Once they were seated and drinks were ordered, Velvette struck up eager conversation. “Ugh, it’s been forever since we’ve done something like this.”

 

“Right, it’s been too busy lately.” Vox agreed, taking a drink. 

 

“My poor amorcito, so overworked.” Valentino pouted.

 

“No offense Vox, but he’s got a point. You’ve been looking like shit recently. Do you even sleep?” 

 

“It’s just that time of year,” Vox explained, excusing his excessive schedule. 

 

“Sure you’re not avoiding us?” Velvette joked, her eyes narrowed into a suspicious squint. 

 

“Voxy would never.” Valentino shook his head, draping an arm around Vox. 

 

“Ha, right.” Vox swallowed. Was it that obvious? 

 

So they chatted for a while. Velvette’s upcoming summer fashion line-up was going smoothly as always, and Val’s porn was obviously still making numbers. Vox's exhaustion was even paying off, with the viewership for his talk show reaching a record high. A little more than a half-hour into their impromptu celebration, Vox let out a long yawn.

 

“Aww, it’s someone’s bedtime.” Velvette teased. 

 

Vox was too warm and bleary to come up with a response other than, “Nmm… Nuh-uh.” 

 

“Maybe we should go,” Val said, supporting Vox’s half-asleep body.

 

“Aww, are you kidding? We just got here!” Velvette argued. 

 

“Mhm.” Vox agreed with the shorter overlord, eyes still closed. 

 

“No way! Velvette?!" A small group of younger animal-like sinners approached the table. The one who spoke had their tail wagging behind them in excitement. "Can we get a picture?”  

 

“Hm? Absolutely, love!” Velvette stood. “Val, you keep a good eye on him.” She stuck a finger towards Val. 

 

“Of course, dear.” 

 

And she vanished into the crowd. 

 

“Voxy, love?” Val nudged the dozing demon.

 

“Hmm?” Vox looked up in mystified, cozy adoration. He brought his sleeve up to his mouth to chew, but remembered he wasn’t supposed to. Everything was so big, so intimidating. He hoped Val would protect him. He was always so strong.

 

“Vox. If you’re doing that weird baby shit you can cut it out. Now.” Val snarled, grabbing onto Vox’s shirt and pulling him closer. Vox just stared, wide eyes going glassy. His breath stuttered.

 

“I'm back! I swear, I can't catch a break.” Velvette let out a rough sigh before processing the scene in front of her, Vox on the brink of tears at Valentino’s seething. “Am I interrupting something?” Anger laced her words.

 

“No, Vox was just–”

 

“Holy shit Vox, are you crying?” Velvette had never seen the otherwise charismatic, confident TV demon cry up until that point. Even when he and Val would have their fights, it was behind closed doors and away from her. Vox tried to make sure of it.

 

“N–no.” Vox denied it as if it would fix the situation. 

 

“Yes, you are, V.” Velvette swung her arm around Vox, basically peeling him away from Valentino’s grasp. She shot the moth a glare as if to say ‘we will talk about this.’

 

“Come on, dear. We’re going home.” Velvette guided Vox to the car, Val trailing behind them. She led Vox to the passenger’s seat, sitting him down before closing the car door and taking a step towards Valentino. 

 

“You stay out there while I talk to him.” Velvette ordered.

 

“He’s my– ” 

 

“Really? I could have sworn you broke up with him. Last fucking week, Val!” She fumed. “I don’t like getting in between whatever dysfunctional bullshit you two have going on, but I’m not going to just stand there while you make him cry for no reason.” She left for the car without another word.

 

“Vel?” Vox sniffled.

 

“Hey. What happened in there?” All her rage drained away, replaced with concern. 

 

“Can’t– can’t tell you.” Vox tried to remain level-headed, fighting the sensation of his mind slogging through jelly. 

 

“Yes, you can.” Velvette took Vox’s hand, rubbing circles into the back of it. “And if you can’t… let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

 

“I stay in the front seat?” Vox requested.

 

“Yeah. Hey, I don’t blame you. I don’t know how you put up with him.” Velvette smiled, and Vox let out a wet chuckle. 

 

“I dunno neither.” 

 

“Pfft, you’re such a lightweight.” She paused, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’m telling him he can sleep in his own room tonight.” 

 

“Thanks, Vel.” 

 

“Yeah, no problem.” She gave him one last look before stepping out to yell at Valentino some more.

 

The ride home was tense. Vox almost passed out despite it.

 

As he laid down in bed that night, he found himself childishly wishing someone was there to protect him from monsters. Maybe even Val, even if he was a bit of a monster too. At least then he wouldn’t feel so alone. Vox supposed it was his fault Val hated him.

“Uh, hello? Anyone?” Angel had been knocking at the TV demon’s door for a few minutes now. “Alright, I’m coming in!” He called out, cracking open the door to peek into the room. The only indication of life in the small space was a Vox-shaped lump under the thick blue blanket, light peeking through the fabric slightly. 

 

“Hey. You alright?” Angel started, stepping in and closing the door to offer the overlord some privacy. “I brought you a sweater. I know pink ain’t your color, but–” A trembling sniff cut him off. Angel’s hand hovered over the blanket.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. Smiles isn’t usually that much of an asshole, I dunno why he’s got such a massive hate boner for you.” He shifted the sheets to be met with Vox’s quivering form. It was almost surreal, seeing an overlord with so much power broken down like this. 

 

“Go! Go ‘way!” Vox’s words were muffled by the shirt sleeve in his mouth. “‘M being bad!” 

 

“Huh.” That was maybe the last thing the sinner was expecting to hear. “What's... uh... what's the matter?” Angel tried and failed to not seem taken aback.

 

“‘M little…” Vox admitted, anxiety clawing at him for reasons he didn't yet understand.

Notes:

and the cat's out of the bag (kind of) XD

also, homesickness for a place thats bad for you is so real damn it

UPDATE: srry chapter 6 is taking longer!! i got sick and have been focusing more on my website DX will be up soon!

Chapter 6

Notes:

aaah sorry this chapter took so long!! i got sick, then had a lot going on, and then got concert tix XD

its here now tho, hoping every1 enjoys!! also TYSM ALL FOR 500 KUDOs?!!!?! it rlly does make my day even tho i've been so inactive here <33

“You’re… little?” Angel repeated, perplexed.

 

“M–mhm.” Vox let out a shuddering breath.

 

“Like what, a baby?” Angel half-joked.

 

“‘M not a baby!” Vox protested with a bratty shout. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” Angel jabbed lightheartedly. 

 

“Mhm! ‘M at leas’ four!” Vox held up four fingers to emphasize his point. “ Not a baby.”

 

“Oh shit, you’re serious.” This new information left Angel reeling. This wasn’t some weird joke or computer virus. Was it some weird way to cope? Trauma? Angel would ask about all that later, he supposed. For now, he softened the edges of his tone. “Does anyone else know about this?” 

 

“Jus– just Al. And he’s bein’ a meanie!” Vox wiped his face with a sleeve. 

 

“Heh, yeah. He’s a real piece of work.” Angel shook his head. “Now, how’s about we get you cozy and watch a movie?” 

 

<3

 

“That sweater looks adorable on you.” Angel stifled a laugh at the sight of the TV demon, the overlord who’s powerful influence could be felt throughout Hell, in an oversized pink and white patterned sweater, the hem reaching around his knees. 

 

“Nuh-uh!” He protested, an unintimidating scowl across his face.

 

“Oh, my mistake. Of course not.” Angel feigned an over-the-top apologetic tone. 

 

“Movie!” Vox demanded, his excitement palpable as he almost immediately forgot what made him so angry.

 

“Right. You stay here, got it? This is going to be the best movie night of your life.” 

 

“Come with you?” Vox asked, a timid wobble in his expression as he held out a hand.

 

“I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta be real quiet, ‘cause, uh…” Shit, he looks like he’s about to bawl. Angel squeezed Vox’s hand for a moment in a way he hoped was comforting. Think of something! “It’s a secret movie night. So you’ve got to make sure nobody suspects anything.” Phew, he bought it. Angel breathed an internal sigh of relief.

 

“Secret?” 

 

“Yeah, maybe even find a hiding spot.” Maybe that would keep Vox busy for long enough to gather everything Angel needed. This was going to be the best movie night ever, after all.

 

“Woaah. Super secret.” Vox’s voice dropped to a whisper.

 

“You just hang tight, got it?” Angel put a hand on Vox’s shoulder for a moment, and then he was gone. 

 

<3

 

Alastor stood alone in the lonely radio tower, squinting out the window and down at the world in contemplation. That scene at dinner he caused wasn’t like him. Frankly, it was quite unbecoming for a demon of his status. Not only that, but it left him feeling hollow emptiness instead of the thrill and amusement that would normally accompany mischief. Publicly humiliating his enemy was always fun, but this time it wasn’t. This time, it only made the radio demon’s gut twist in an uncomfortable, unfamiliar way. 

 

Maybe, he conceded reluctantly, he ought to apologize.

 

Exiting the tower, Alastor walked down the ornate halls at a brisk pace, an unusual nervousness running through him. Was he really so pathetic? All this internal conflict because of that foolish picture box? Quickly, Alastor found Vox’s room, knocking twice at the door.

“Vox?” Alastor was met with a quiet gasp and the sound of scampering feet. When the door remained firmly closed, he called again.

 

“I know you’re in there.” Amusement lined Alastor’s tone. Better yet, Vox would surely eat up an apology in the state he was in with no questions asked.

 

“Nuh-uh,” Vox whispered in return. 

 

“Hm. I wonder what all that noise could be then.” 

 

“Hey, do you mind?” A familiar spider rounded the corner, all four arms wrapped around a mostly pink bundle of pillows, blankets, and miscellaneous goodies.

 

“Last I checked, your room was in the other direction.” Alastor subtly rested his hand on the door handle.

 

“Yeah, and last I checked, he doesn’t want to see you. So move.” Angel attempted to shove past the radio demon with his shoulder, but Alastor didn’t budge.

 

“But he wants to see you ?” Alastor shot back, but the idea of that stung more than it should’ve. It shouldn’t sting at all, because he didn’t care if the TV demon lived or died, the radio demon reminded himself.

 

“Uh, yeah? I wouldn’t be too eager to see the guy who slammed me into a fucking table less than an hour ago in the single most unsexy way possible. Seriously, Al?” 

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“Cut the guy a break! I know you get off on his suffering or whatever, but–!”

 

“I do no such thing.” 

 

In the heat of their argument, the handle turned against Alastor’s hand, and in his surprise, he released it. The door swung open, revealing Vox standing there dumbfounded. Both Alastor and Angel hoped that he didn’t hear all that. 

 

“H’lo.” Vox whispered, scrambling to hide behind Angel.

 

“Hey, bud. Go back to your room, I’ll be there in just a minute.” Angel spoke softly. “I just gotta deal with something first.” He glared at Alastor, teeth gritted. 

 

“Al?” Vox poked his head out from behind Angel. “You gotta go ‘way now.” He said it with a smile even as he clung onto Angel’s arm like a lifeline. Alastor glanced back at Angel and they exchanged knowing looks.

 

“Why is that?” Alastor pretended to entertain the thought.

 

“‘Cause- ‘cause you hurted me!” Vox’s fans whirred to life at the first signs of overheating, “I don’ wanna talk to you!” He stomped a stubborn foot on the carpeted floor with a resounding thud. Alastor blinked once, stunned shock evident only in the way his eyes widened slightly. 

 

“You heard ‘im. He doesn’t want to talk to you.” A proud, smug smile adorned Angel’s face. Wordlessly, he skirted past Alastor, Vox trailing behind eagerly. Alastor lingered outside the door a few moments too long, his thoughts racing to catch up. Maybe the idiotic piece of e-waste wasn’t just a pushover. How inconvenient. 

 

“I didn’ even say anything ‘bout the secret movie night!” Vox announced proudly with his hands on his hips as soon as the door was shut, before Alastor could even think to leave, and Angel burst into laughter.

 

“Right, super secret.” Angel snickered before dropping his haul of blankets and goodies onto the floor. 

 

“Wha’s that?” Vox grabbed one of the protruding pillows. It was heart-shaped, pink, and fuzzy. He hugged it to his chest. 

 

“Only the best secret movie night essentials, of course! We got blankets, pillows, and I even snuck some popcorn.” Angel showed off the bag before setting it on the nearby desk.

 

“Wow!” Vox’s eyes shined in admiration as he squeezed the life out of the pillow he claimed.

 

“And movies. Obviously.” Angel set a few DVDs alongside the popcorn, trying to untangle and make sense of the fluffy heap. Thankfully, he kept a few colorful animated movies. Even though they mostly went unwatched now, it felt weird to just get rid of them. “Have you ever made a pillow fort?” 

 

Vox shook his head. Angel let out a gasp. That had to be a crime— depriving a kid of pillow forts.

 

“Alright, so to make the best pillow fort, you gotta stack ‘em like this.” Angel demonstrated the very serious business of collecting pillows. 

 

“Like ‘dis?” Vox mimicked the taller demon, picking out the pillows he deemed the best.

 

“There ya go! You want to have big, heavy ones for this part,” Angel said, taking the pillow pile from Vox. “What color do you want the fort to be?”

 

“Blue!” Vox answered immediately, and Angel pretended to scan the pile carefully before shaking his head.

 

“Sorry, I don’t have much blue.”

 

“Red?” Vox already held a red blanket.

 

“Yeah, that works! Good job!” Angel praised, and Vox lit up, following every instruction carefully. 

 

Eventually, the fluffy fortress was created in all its glory, the red blanket roof sweeping over them, pink blanket as their carpet, and a small color-changing light illuminating the space in blue, since Vox insisted. The pair was cozy, watching some simple, cute movie with a bag of popcorn between them. It really was the best secret movie night ever, Vox thought as evening turned to night. He blinked away sleep for just a little longer.

 

“It’s about time we got you to bed, hm?” Angel suggested, noting how the TV demon kept nodding off, his head resting on the pillow he’d been holding onto for almost the whole evening. It wasn’t that late, only around 10 P.M. But for a kid? He must be so tired. Angel reminded himself. 

 

“Nooo!” Vox whined, a pit of dread settling in his stomach. Bed meant bad things. He just didn’t remember why, the corners of his mind blurry.

 

“I dunno, you seem pretty sleepy.” Angel smiled lightly, nudging Vox with an elbow playfully.

 

“ Not sleepy.”

 

“Sure, of course not,” Angel drawled out sarcastically. 

 

“Sleep here?” 

 

“I dunno. It’s not very comfortable on the floor.”

 

“Is,” Vox argued, stifling a yawn. “Please?” The tired demon’s voice carried a little too much fear for Angel’s liking. He filed that away for later.

 

“Fine. Just this time, though!” Angel relented, reaching for the TV remote. “It is about time you slept, though.” Angel’s brow furrowed in pity, and he almost laughed at feeling pity for the TV overlord. 

 

“‘Kay…” Vox was already dozing off anyway.

 

“Night, kid.” Angel sat up, stretching. 

 

“Stay?” Vox requested, a thick layer of drowsiness coating his voice. 

 

“Ah, what the hell? Sure.” 

 

“D’you think… Al’s not mad anymore?” Vox said, barely audible.

 

“I think he owes you a big apology.” Angel paused, considering his next words. “You really care ‘bout him, huh?”

 

“Mhm,” Vox hummed before sleep took him, and Angel tossed a comforter over him, tucking him in. 

 

<3

 

Vox woke up on the floor with a terrible ache in his back and cloudy memories of yesterday. Where was he…? Oh, right. Fuck. Fucking damn it. Pure mortification and dread washed over him.

 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Angel laughed, standing over the TV demon, who was groggily blinking. The roof of their fort fell sometime in the night, and it draped messily over Vox’s aching form. 

 

“You still with me?” Angel squatted down, poking Vox’s already dimming screen. 

 

“Fuck… Tell me yesterday didn’t happen.” Vox groaned in exasperation.

 

“You, uhh… back to normal now?” Angel couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at Vox’s expense. 

 

“Fuck.” Vox sat upright, hissing in a sharp breath at the ache in his spine. 

 

“I told ya–”

 

“Yesterday never happened, got it?” Vox tried to sound professional, menacing, but it came out as an undignified plea. As a last measure, he tried hypnosis, but it only shot a jolt of pain through the still broken side of his screen. Fuck. Why did Val have to break the left side of his screen? It flickered pathetically, and he held it as the staticky pain died down.

 

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Angel caught onto what Vox was trying. “Don’t pull that brainwashing shit with me! I was being a good friend, making sure you were okay. I could have just as easily left you to figure that shit out yourself.” Cold guilt washed over Vox.

 

“Look, I’m sorry. I just– You can’t tell anyone. This can’t get out, or–”

 

“Got it. No problem.” Angel interrupted Vox’s rambling.

 

“That’s it? No problem?” 

 

“What are friends for? Though I’m pretty sure Alastor knows that I know, now that you mention it.” Angel recalled.

 

“Fuck.” 

 

“Aw, come on. It could be worse, at least he already knows–”

 

“Alastor.” Static took over his screen, corrupting his vision. He should hate that red-headed, old-timey asshole. So why’d he just feel a heavy pit in his chest? When he was back at home, with Val’s encouragement, he would just stalk his enemy for days at a time via cameras whenever the radio demon was feeling particularly annoying. But now that Alastor was giving him the time of day, now that Vox tricked himself into thinking the radio demon cared ? About him ? It hurt more than it should. 

 

“Woah, are you–?”

 

“I want to be alone.” Vox said, echoey and hollow, and Angel left wordlessly, nothing more to be done despite his concern.

Notes:

srry if some parts are meh, i lowkey suck at writing fluff sometimes and wrote half of this with brain fog XD

Chapter 7

Notes:

i'm sick and the only thing i have energy to do rn is write this XD

THE GOOGLE DOC IS OFFICIALLY 100 PAGES LMAO?!? also tw for val being val smfh

“Vox?” Velvette placed a hand on the dark blue computer chair. “No way. Did you sleep here?”

 

“Hmm?” Vox leaned forward from his reclining position, turning to face his coworker. Fuck, he had a migraine. He closed his eyes halfway into a pained squint.

 

“You dumbass.” Velvette let out a long, aggravated sigh. Dealing with Vox when he was all whiny and tired from overworking himself sucked, but deep down, they both knew she was worried. 

 

“My head hurts,” Vox mumbled, burying his face in his arms.

 

“How long have you been here?” Velvette asked in a tone devoid of sympathy.

 

“Two… three days?” Vox shrugged. He really didn’t know.

 

“What the fuck, Vox?!”

 

“Busy season.” 

 

“You said that last season, too.” 

 

“Oh.” Vox realized Velvette was right. And the season before that, too.

 

“You’ve got a show in a few hours.” That’s why she came to get him. She figured Vox would be doing… whatever this was again.

 

“Okay.” Vox let out a deep breath, standing and stretching for a moment. 

 

“Coffee?” Velvette offered.

 

“Please.”

“Alastor!” Charlie eagerly ran to the radio demon as soon as she saw him, Vaggie keeping a watchful eye from the distance as if she would be capable of stopping the radio demon single-handedly if things went awry. 

 

“Why hello there, my dear!” Alastor matched her optimistic disposition. As expected, the situation from that evening blew over mostly in just a few days' time. Anyone who still cared didn’t approach Alastor about it, and that was enough for him.

 

“Alastor, I have a favor to ask you.” Charlie tried to sound more professional. 

 

“Oh? And what could that be?” Alastor said in the same unchanging way.

 

“Well, um,” she hesitated before being hit with renewed confidence. “Vox hasn’t been out of his room for a few days. I was wondering— I would like you to check on him!” She corrected herself. Be assertive! She repeated the simple mantra in her head.

 

“And why would I do that? Surely it would be better to send somebody else.” 

 

“I was actually hoping you’d apologize to him?” It came out as more of a question than a demand.

 

“I did, and Vox was simply not willing to accept it.” Alastor explained, followed by a laugh that came out more sharp and bitter than he meant it to.

 

“Oh…” Charlie deflated for a moment. “I’m proud of you for trying! That takes a lot of strength.” 

 

“Hm.” Alastor chose not to acknowledge that.

 

“Would you try again? Maybe now that everyone’s had time to cool off, it might go better.” Charlie suggested.

 

“Hm…” Alastor considered it. After not seeing the TV demon for a few days, Alastor was admittedly worried, but he wouldn’t tell a soul. Why would he feel concern for a piece of dim-witted scrap metal with an overblown ego? It made no sense, and Alastor couldn’t wrap his head around what he was feeling and what had changed. If anything, seeing Vox in whatever horrible state he’s in should be entertaining. 

 

“I hardly see it making a difference, but why not? I’ll see to it, then.” Alastor started to walk away.

 

“Wait, Alastor?” Charlie interrupted urgently.

 

“Hm?”

 

“I’m proud of you.”

 

“Thank you, Charlie.” Before Alastor left, Charlie could’ve sworn she saw his smile soften.

 

Alastor found himself at the familiar door again. A couple times in the past few days, he’d considered knocking. He wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant to. It didn’t matter if Vox decided to never accept his apology. In fact, why was he apologizing in the first place? He’d done worse to his opponent unprovoked, and he’d been fine. But Alastor couldn’t shake the hurt and betrayal that welled up so obviously in Vox’s visible eye when Alastor said what he did and when he shoved Vox into that table. Did Vox… trust him? That was his mistake , Alastor told himself, indiscernible emotion aching in waves in place of the usual amusement. 

 

So he knocked on the door before he got to thinking too hard. No answer. He melted into the shadows, reappearing in the room. Charlie wanted him to check on Vox anyway. He didn’t acknowledge the small spark of worry that seized him as he scanned the room urgently.

 

It looked unoccupied— bed freshly made, floor free of clutter, sparse belongings put away. But at the desk sat Vox, disheveled but still donning his usual suit. Electricity buzzed through the air, and the demon’s screen was littered with official looking pop-ups. Alastor approached, and Vox continued to ignore him. Was this some sort of passive-aggressive game? Could he really not hear Alastor? He wasn't necessarily being quiet. For a brief moment, Alastor thought about how easy it would be to kill the overlord right now. He dismissed the idea when persistent worry wriggled inside him like a pest. 

 

“Hmm… what to do with you?” Alastor thought aloud, glancing over at Vox to see if he’d stirred. When he hadn’t, Alastor rested a hand on his shoulder. When that didn’t rouse him, Alastor placed his other hand on Vox’s other shoulder. 

 

“How peculiar.” Alastor held back a laugh, pointedly ignoring the warm, fuzzy feeling that crept up his chest. He shook Vox harshly.

 

“W̶͚̙̆͆̊͋H̶̹̮͊̾͊ͅÄ̴̜̘͔̩͆T̷̤̦͛̀͘ ̷̪͇̬̾̽T̵̥̣́͘H̴̢̢̯̉̅Ë̶̜̙͍͠ ̴̹̭̭͂̏Ḟ̷͉̉̽Ụ̸̙͗̂C̸̐̆ͅK̵̥̽̉̌?̸̧̹̃!̶̭͍̈́̕” Vox was overcome by the loud screech of static snow, spluttering as his vision cleared and he was met face to face with the radio demon.

 

“Leaving yourself open to attacks, very disadvantageous. You ought to know that.” Alastor chided.

 

“Why are you here, Alastor?” Vox grumbled, already fed up. 

 

“A few hotel residents were growing worried. Nothing more.” Alastor explained disinterestedly, dismissing the voice in the very back of his mind that said, Like me. I was worried. Because he wasn’t. That would be foolish at best.

 

“Not you, though.” Vox spat out before thinking. “We were never anything, right?” 

 

“Hm? Still upset about that, I see.” To Alastor, it was a genuine observation. He was surprised that Vox was still on that.

 

“Upset?! You’re an asshole.” Vox turned away from him harshly. “Get the fuck away from me.”

 

“Vox?” No answer. “Hm…” Alastor pondered for a moment while Vox continued to work, pointedly ignoring him. “Voxy?”

 

“You don’t get to call me that.” Vox snapped, unmoving from his work as he tried to disregard the way his fans whirred at that stupid pet name. Good, that got his attention. Alastor laughed inwardly at just how easy the other demon was to read.

 

“You weren’t the only reason I left, you know. You must think very highly of yourself to assume that.” Alastor admitted, and Vox turned to look at him directly. 

 

“Then why did you?” Vox stood, stumbling, and Alastor supported him before thinking.

 

“I can’t tell you that.” 

 

“I was worried when you left.” Vox said, easily falling back into the familiar rhythm of trusting Alastor. “I was so worried that you died, or worse.” Or worse, indeed.

 

“You were sabotaging our business by trusting that insect. You understand why I couldn’t stick around.” 

 

“I missed you.”

 

“I know you did.” I missed you too.  

 

“Did you mean what you said? That we were never-?”

 

Alastor cut him off. “No. Not a word.” Vox thought he heard uncharacteristic emotion bleed into his statement.

 

“Okay.” An unspoken I still love you lingered and died lonely at the back of his throat. It was harder for Vox to speak; his words were thin and ground out with grief. 

 

Silence filled the room, accompanied by the almost nonexistent sounds of working machinery as well as Vox’s blubbering. Alastor hoped he didn’t cry, and he told himself it was for no other reason than it being very annoying and sappy. 

 

“How long have you been working?” Alastor dispelled the awkward emotional tension neither of them wanted to deal with yet.

 

“Oh. I don’t know.” 

 

“You don’t know.” Alastor repeated.

 

“Maybe a few days. I have a lot to catch up with.” Vox excused by habit.

 

“You’ve been sleeping, at least?” 

 

“What, are you worried or something?” Vox laughed, half-hoping he’d say yes.

 

“I’ll take that as a no, then?” 

 

“I have a lot to do. I can’t afford to take any more breaks.” Vox mumbled, staring at his shoes to avoid Alastor’s gaze.

 

“Why are you really doing this?” Alastor pried.

 

“What–?”

 

“You always have been a terrible liar. It’s a shock how you have so many people tricked into buying your inferior products.” 

 

“Fuck you.” 

 

“How intelligent. You still haven’t answered my question.”

 

“I don’t have to tell you shit.” 

 

“Hm… I suppose not.” The pair sat in silence again, Alastor’s sharp smile and prying gaze boring into Vox as he sat, turned, and unconvincingly pretended to work for a few slow minutes.

 

“It’s just easier than having to think about everything.” Vox breathed out so quietly that the radio demon almost didn’t hear him.

 

“Is that right?” 

 

“It’s just Val, and… fuck, it’s probably such a mess at the tower.” Vox shook his head, exasperated. “And then, there’s y–” He clamped his mouth shut suddenly, face betraying his embarrassment and terror.

 

“Then…?” Alastor prompted, raising an eyebrow as his smile widened. 

 

“Then nothing! Yeah, nothing at all.” Vox bluffed, crossing his arms over himself.

 

“Very convincing.” 

 

“Whatever. Get out of here, I have work to do.” Vox rolled his eyes, turning back to his desk.

 

“No, I think you’re quite done for today.” Alastor spun the computer chair back around, and Vox let out a disgruntled noise.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Vox demanded. Alastor briefly asked himself the same before sweeping that question under the rug for later.

 

“You’ve worked enough, don’t you think? The lack of rest can’t be good for your injuries,” Alastor noted. His screen didn’t look much better than when he last saw Vox. It should be healing much faster. 

 

“Why do you care?” Vox scoffed.

 

“The sooner you leave, the better, right?” Alastor said. Vox felt his heart be crushed just a little. Of course the radio demon wanted him out. Vox scolded himself.

 

“Right, yeah.” 

 

“Such a sour expression.” Alastor noted. “What has gotten into you? So moody, Vox, even for you.” 

 

“Hm, couldn’t be that my company is potentially crumbling as we speak!” Vox spat out sarcastically. “No, and it couldn’t be about how much Val fucking hates me, or Angel finding out about how pathetic I am, or all the mixed signals you’re giving me when I already can’t catch a fucking break, and–!” 

 

“Shh.” Alastor took Vox’s hand, gripping it firmly enough to ground him. “There, there.” 

 

“Don’t— don’t you fucking try that.” Vox sniffled, trying to calm the tremors shaking him. 

 

“Try what?” Alastor played dumb. 

 

“You know what you’re doing, Al.” The nickname slipped out, and Vox’s screen tinged pink when he realized what he said. “Alastor.” He corrected himself, but it was too late.

 

“Al will do fine, Voxy.” Alastor removed his hand from the TV demon’s, patting his head, and Vox couldn’t help but lean into the touch. How long had it been since he had been given honest affection? 

 

“I’m not going to do that.” Vox huffed out stubbornly.

 

“Do what?”

 

“I’m not a fucking child. Stop it. You’re just trying to get information out of me or something. You don’t actually care anymore.” Ah, there it was. 

 

“I see… Voxy?” Alastor asked so gently that it squeezed at Vox’s heart. “Did you want me to care?”

 

“Huh?” Vox sat there dumbfounded for a few moments before realizing what he implied. “NO! Um, no. Absolutely not. I– I hate you.” 

 

“Very convincing.” Alastor kept a straight face while he processed it. He had suspected Vox to feel that way, of course, but he didn’t think he was actually stupid enough to let himself follow through on it. 

 

“I do!” Vox insisted. “Get out. Now…?” If Alastor left now, Vox might be devastated. 

 

“I don’t think I will.” He sat on Vox’s bed instead.

 

“Okay.”

 

“You’re more stubborn than that. What could have gotten into you?” Alastor mocked, relishing in Vox’s nervous fidgeting until he stood, sitting much closer than normal to Alastor on the edge of the bed, their shoulders touching.

 

“You’re right. I could probably afford to squeeze in a break.” 

 

“You’re close.” Alastor pointed out blankly.

 

“Ah, aha… right. I’ll just, uh…” Vox went to move over but stumbled, falling backwards. Before he could reach the floor, Alastor’s arms shot out on instinct, wrapping around and catching the clumsy TV demon. They were closer now, almost hugging. While Alastor remained unfazed, Vox had shock and embarrassment written all over him, red face emitting an awful amount of suffocating heat, his breath catching in his throat while his arms were pinned awkwardly to his sides by Alastor’s hold. His wide eyes shined in nervous wonder.

 

“Oh.” Vox let out a squeak . Alastor’s expression lightened in amusement. 

 

“If I had known this was all it took for you to be quiet…” Alastor grinned sharply, pulling Vox back up and letting him go after a moment too long. Vox already yearned again for his touch.

 

“Alastor— what is this?” 

 

“What do you mean?” Alastor knew exactly what he meant.

 

“Do you still… like me?” Vox cringed at how juvenile the words felt.

 

“Hm…” Alastor had to think about that. 

 

“You don’t have to answer now, I guess. Just—” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Could you pretend to, just for tonight?”

 

“That’s pathetic, even for you.” Alastor said, no real venom behind it.

 

“You’re right–”

 

“But I will oblige, just this once.”

 

“Can I hug you?” Vox asked needily. 

 

“Fine.” As soon as the word left him, Vox wrapped his arms around the taller demon, burying his face in the red fabric of Alastor’s jacket. After some hesitation, taken aback by Vox’s forwardness, Alastor wrapped his arms around the TV demon’s back.

 

“This really is a new low.” 

 

“I know.” Vox muttered, clinging on tighter. “I missed being hugged. Val didn’t unless-”

 

“Shush.” Vox obeyed, looking up at Alastor with desperate, watery eyes.

 

“I missed this.” Vox’s voice was small and shaky. Despite Alastor’s efforts, he was going to cry like the overly-sentimental sap he was. 

 

“I see that.” 

 

“Fuck, I think I’m still in love with you.” Vox said through gritted teeth. A few beats of silence passed, and Vox regretted it. It was way too soon; he shouldn’t have—

 

“You don’t say?” A laugh track followed Alastor’s remark.

 

“It’s not funny.” Vox put on a wobbly smile anyway, looking up at Alastor, and the radio demon softened at the sight. Just like old times. 

 

“No?”

 

“Please don’t leave me.” Vox begged. Alastor felt wet, hot tears staining his clothes, and though the TV demon looked absolutely pitiful, he felt a pang in his heart. 

 

“I am sorry I did, Vox.” Now look at him . Alastor’s thoughts shouted back at him. You let him trust that infernal pest, and now he’s hurt. The other half of his mind screamed back, Why do you care? He did this to himself. 

 

“Al…” Vox’s shoulders shuddered in heaving sobs. 

 

“I know.” Alastor moved one hand to the back of Vox’s display, softly running his nails down it in a comforting, repetitive motion. 

“Our numbers are still up, Al! Why would you ever want to leave?” Vox’s heart beat in double time against his chest, but he put on his typical practiced air of relaxed confidence.

 

“I won’t say it again, Vox. You did this to yourself.”

 

“But–”

 

“All you care about are ratings, numbers, and sales. Where is your dignity?” 

 

“Fine! Pompous asshole. You always thought you were too good for me, anyway. Well, you’re wrong. I’m too good for you.” Vox folded his arms, glaring at his ex-partner. 

 

“There are your true colors.” Alastor glared right back. 

 

“Go, then! Get as far away from me as possible! I don’t want to see you ever again.” 

 

“Goodbye, Vox. Good luck.”

 

And for seven long years, Alastor made good on that promise.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Vox admitted shamefully. “After everything, I should– I shouldn’t have come running back. I don’t deserve you.”

 

“Leading up to my departure, you became self-centered, greedy, and even stupider than before. Chasing numbers without caring what lengths you had to go to get them.”

 

“Hey–!”

 

“However, I can see what influenced you to become that way. If you apologized now–”

 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” The apology tumbled out instantly. “I should’ve listened to you. You always knew better than me.”

 

“I did not.”

 

“But you did ! You knew Valentino was bad news, and you tried to warn me, and I didn’t listen.”

 

“Remind me, who was it that always insisted we explore new mediums and was almost always successful in every new endeavor?”

 

“Pfft, shut up. Not my problem you've always been such a fossil.” Vox smiled through his teary expression, and the pair stayed a few moments that way.

 

“Val got really scary after you left.” 

 

“I could imagine so.”

 

“He got really pushy and handsy, and he would drug me,” Vox shuddered, “sometimes with his spit, but more often…” Vox shook his head. “He said it was because he cared. He didn’t want me working so hard.” Alastor pulled Vox away to stare him in the face. He looked so afraid, so broken .

 

“He would what ?” Alastor’s horns grew and his teeth sharpened, his demonic form begging to be let out.

“At least eat something, love,” Val said, setting a small meal down beside Vox on his desk. “I’ve hardly seen you rest. Our poor overworked boss.” 

 

“Aww, Val. Thank you.” Vox gushed. “What would I do without you?”

 

“Starve and die, probably.”

 

“You have so little faith in me.” Vox snorted, raising the food to his lips and taking a bite. It was good, if not for the oddly pungently sweet and perfumey afternote. 

 

“How is it?”

 

“It’s good,” Vox swore he recognized the taste from somewhere. “What did you put in there?” His question was soon answered by a needy heat washing over him, clouding his rational thought. Val saw the shift in demeanor immediately as it happened.

 

“I needed some help testing out the new love potion, and clearly, Voxy, you need the rest.” Val explained. “It’s a win-win, really.”

 

“Mhm…” Vox whined out, half listening, as the world grew more distant.

 

“Come on, love,” Val led Vox away, and that was the last thing he remembered until waking up the next morning.

“If I killed him—”

 

“Don’t.” When Alastor remained unconvinced, Vox threw in, “Please?”

 

“I hardly see why I shouldn’t.” 

 

“I don’t know what I’d do with myself.” Vox admitted, swallowing on nothing. He was flattered that Alastor would kill for him, no matter how much he didn’t want that.

 

“I don’t understand you.” 

 

“I can live with that.”

Chapter 8

Notes:

yall im sorry im so inconsistent
i will probably not do better XDD

“After tonight…” Vox started, barely above a whisper. It was late, stars dotting the dark maroon sky, full moon resting among them. The pair had been there for a while now, talking about nothing and sitting in comfortable silence when there was nothing more to say, Vox occasionally leaning his plastic head on the radio demon’s shoulder when sitting upright became too much to bear. And Alastor would let him, every time.

 

“What were you saying?” Alastor muttered back in a sleep-laced tone. It was strange, seeing him so vulnerable. 

 

“Forget it.” Vox decided a bit too late.

 

“It sounded rather important.”

 

Vox took a deep breath before continuing. “After tonight, is this ever going to happen again?” 

 

“Who’s to say?” Alastor answered noncommittally, gaze drifting to a barren corner of the room.

 

“You?” Vox pointed out matter-of-factly, taking in the radio demon’s face. He looked tired, shoulders squared in tense worry, signature smile strained across his face. Were these emotions all for Vox? He knew better than to expect something like that from someone like Alastor, but a small, greedy part of his mind wouldn’t stop insisting that Alastor was worried for him , and only him. 

 

“I suppose you are right. For once.” Alastor responded sarcastically.

 

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Vox sat upright, face scrunched in faux dismay. It was nice, knowing that for once, neither of them meant it, that their cruel, winding banter wasn’t preceding a fight. Fights that too often ended with Vox hiding in electrical currents, tending to his wounds. How often , Vox’s mind drifted, between Alastor and Val, did I spend fixing my wounds just to look presentable? 

 

“You know exactly what I mean, old pal. Unless you really are so obtuse?” 

 

“Shut up,” Vox huffed out a laugh, a small grin evident on his lips. “But really. Stop dodging my questions.” 

 

“I can’t say for certain,” the radio demon admitted, fixing his stare to the ceiling instead. Forming such a close bond with his former rival would be detrimental at best. How illogical I must be acting then, Alastor figured . Despite himself, his soul ached at the thought of losing Vox’s trust again. Despite himself, he said Vox’s name with soft familiarity when just a week ago the sight of him would fill the radio demon with disgust and disdain. They fell back into comfortable silence for a few minutes more as Vox considered Alastor’s words. 

 

“Don’t look at me like that." Vox had on that stupid, awe-struck expression again, holding Alastor in such sappy, unearned admiration. His eyes were wide, adoring, and he looked so happy in a way that made Alastor grit his teeth to hide how high his heart wanted to soar. How unbecoming, he thought, for an overlord of his status. Vox must be a bad influence , he concluded.

 

“What do you mean?” That sickeningly sweet look never left his face.

 

“Are you truly so unaware of yourself?” 

 

“You’re dumb.”

 

“And you're childish. Though I should expect nothing less coming from you.” Alastor said lightly, but that heartfelt look was wiped from Vox’s face to Alastor’s repressed and muffled dismay. Vox said nothing, and Alastor knew then that he struck a nerve if the TV demon himself had no rebuttal. 

 

“Vox?” Nothing. Just that betrayed expression. “Clearly, I’ve said something out of line.” He sounded surprisingly remorseful.

 

“Don’t call me childish.” Vox forced out. It sounded even more stupid when he said it aloud, and he cringed inwardly.

 

“Okay.” Alastor agreed.

 

“I know it’s—” 

 

“I said okay, Vox.”

 

 

“You childish brat!” Val shouted. Vox sat curled in on himself in the corner of their room with a damaged screen, discoloration lighting the affected LEDs in unnatural blueish green hues like a bruise.

 

“I’m sorry!” Vox choked out, his voice pitchy and raw. He tried to hide this time when he felt that horrible, fuzzy pull tugging at him after it was too late to fight it. He hoped it would be over before his responsibilities caught up to him, but of course , he had a meeting that evening and of course, Val had to be the one to get him.

 

“Then stop doing this,” Val said. A cold, selfish plea.

 

“‘Kay…” Vox shuddered out a deep breath. “Okay…”

 

“I’m sorry I had to do that, love. But that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  And like that, Val was kind again. He only wanted the best for Vox, for both of them, right?

 

Vox shook his head, like a liar. 

 

 

“Vox?” Harsh, hissing static had overtaken the shorter demon’s screen except for the lines that were still whited out. As the static faded, it left a faint afterimage ghosting Vox’s distraught face for a few seconds. 

 

“Al— astor.” Vox corrected himself midway. He couldn't risk that right now. He just couldn't.

 

“There you are.” Alastor let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

 

Vox, craving a distraction, reached for the pocket he kept his phone in on impulse. 3% left and a cracked screen. How? He hadn’t checked it since— his blood ran cold. 37 missed calls from Val and 154 texts. Vox paled, hastily swiping them away. 

 

“Glued to your devices as always.” Alastor peeked down at the little device anyway, catching the notifications before they left the damaged screen. “Quite the persistent little pest, I see.”

 

“He’s just like that.” Vox caught himself defending his ex-partner. 

 

“Right.” Alastor narrowed his eyes with apparent irritation. 

 

“Are you…?” Vox stopped himself seconds too late. 

 

“Am I what?” Alastor insisted.

 

“Jealous?” A devious smirk appeared on Vox’s face as he entertained that train of thought. Alastor, jealous. Over him !

 

“Haha! No.” Alastor deadpanned. 

 

“Not even a little?” Vox pushed. 

 

Alastor looked Vox up and down with a critical squint. “I see nothing to be jealous about.”

 

“HEY!” Vox laughed, shoving Alastor with little force behind it. Alastor didn’t budge. 

 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” With me, he withheld, but Vox seemed to take the hint, his fans kicking on with a quiet whir. 

 

“I am,” Vox replied softly, returning his attention to his phone. 2 missed calls from Velvette, and 13 texts. He tapped on the text bubble wordlessly.

 

5 days ago.

Where tf are you??? Val said you fought again

Hes being such a whiny bitch can you plz deal with him.

A few hours of nothing.

Whatever. Just get home safe, k? 

 

4 days ago.

you good??

V, ur going to have to deal with him at some point. 

you have shit to do.

 

3 days ago. 

3 A.M. Don’t tell me you managed to get yourself killed.

dumbass.

I’m worried asshole

 

2 days ago.

ppl are starting to notice you’re gone. 

what the actual fuck did Val do

plz answer.

 

1 day ago.

hope you’re ok out there, V.

 

Vox’s throat tightened. Velvette was worried about him. And when the social media overlord showed she was worried, she was really worried. Vox swallowed, hand over his mouth, before fumbling to respond. 

 

I’m okay, Vel. Can’t come home right now. Sorry.

 

Immediately, Velvette called, the loud, beeping ringtone threatening to wake up everyone at the hotel. Alastor’s ear flicked in annoyance, and Vox stepped away to his desk. It was only a few feet away, so the radio demon could still hear everything if he pleased, but Vox preferred it that way. Without any more hesitation, he answered the call.

 

“Where the fuck are you?!” Velvette demanded.

 

“Vel, I can explain–” Vox started with a hint of uncertainty.

 

“This better be good.” 

 

“I’m at the princess's hotel–” 

 

“What the hell are you doing there?!” 

 

“Val…” Vox trailed off. Velvette waited impatiently on the other side of the line. “I got hurt.” Vox settled on that perfectly indirect phrasing.

 

“Okay…?” To be fair, it happened all the time. Still, Velvette seemed concerned.

 

“In public. And– I don’t think he’s sorry at all. I don’t think he’s going to apologize.” 

 

Silence for a few moments, then, “Ugh. You’re such a softie, you know. I’m coming over.” 

 

“What?! It’s 1 in the morning, you can’t—!” As soon as Vox started his fruitless protest, she hung up. 

 

“She’s a handful.” Alastor supplied, Vox nearly leaping out of his seat. He forgot Alastor was still there.

 

“Heh, yeah.” Vox agreed, standing and stretching. “I’m going to wait outside for her. Don’t want to wake everyone else up.” He looked expectantly at Alastor.

 

“Go, then. I won’t be far.” Alastor promised, his form melting silently into the abundant shadows of midnight. With that reassurance, Vox ventured out into the hallway and through the main room. Not even Husk was awake, the normally bustling area unsettlingly quiet.

 

Vox set foot outside, slowly shutting the door behind him and shuddering at the crisp late breeze biting into his skin like tiny daggers. After a few minutes of idle worrying, Velvette came into view, speeding up when Vox spotted her.

 

She looked disheveled, her hair pulled into a sloppy high ponytail instead of her usual pigtails, a baggy sweater hiding her pajamas. Taking in Vox’s face, she gasped, eyes widening at the busted display, broken LEDs showing in pure white lines down Vox’s face, healing crack still reflecting its jagged corners under the light of the moon. 

 

“Fuck, V,” Velvette exhaled, wispy cold clouds escaping her. “You look awful.”

 

“You too,” Vox grumbled, no heat behind it. He couldn’t bring himself to be mad at his coworker, his friend , for caring about him. 

 

“Yeah, because of you.”

 

“I know, I know.” Vox relented, smiling. 

 

“So, what happened?” Velvette asked casually, as if it wasn’t an extremely loaded question.

 

And Vox explained what he could.

 

 

The pair of them were on their way to a date, at a fancy restaurant on the outskirts of the city. Val’s way of apologizing for last time. And he wouldn’t stop talking about Angel Dust. Fucking Angel Dust , Vox seethed.

 

“And then he moves into this shitty hotel, and—” Val prattled on and on, the past tens of minutes dedicated to his ranting. Vox was half-paying attention at best.

 

“Can we talk about something else?” Vox cut the moth off, visibly miffed despite his attempt to stay level. “Anything else?”

 

“My love, do you not care about me? My struggles?” Val complained. 

 

“I just don’t want to hear about him when we’re about to go on a date,” Vox ground out through gritted teeth. 

 

“Oh, Voxy. You know you’re my favorite, right?” Val attempted to placate Vox.

 

“Yeah, right.” Vox rolled his eyes, an ugly scowl on his face. “That’s why you talk about Angel all the fucking time.” 

 

“You’re impossible, Vox!” Val shouted, and Vox felt a small part of himself cowering, and an even smaller part that he’d never let out crying for someone bigger and more equipped to deal with these problems. Addled by the pain that echoed through the wires of his head, that was all he allowed himself to remember. 

“It was probably my fault,” Vox excused.

 

“No. Shut up.” Velvette cut Vox off, and he stayed silent. She reached out a hand to touch his face so gently, like if she wasn't careful Vox's screen would break apart into tiny pieces. “Fuck…” She huffed out, exasperated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“If I didn't yell–”  

 

“It’s not your fault.” Velvette stopped Vox, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “It is not your fault. Don’t make me say it again.” Vox felt himself crumble internally. It’s not your fault, he repeated to himself even though he didn’t agree. 

 

“Okay.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t cry about it, you baby.” She swung an arm around Vox, guiding him inside. “Now let me in! It’s fucking freezing out here.”

 

“Alright, alright.” Vox laughed. “Just keep your voice down.”

Notes:

tysm 4 reading!

Chapter 9

Notes:

YALL WE ARE ALMOST AT 10K HITS THAT IS WILD TO ME?!?!! tysm for all the support!! <33

“At least this place isn’t a total dump.” Velvette and Vox settled in, sitting on the couch in the still-dark main room, their voices lowered. Somehow, with Velvette there, it felt less creepy and more like home. 

 

“It’s not bad,” Vox agreed with a yawn. A warm, bubbly feeling washed over him in calming waves, and he hoped it was only exhaustion. That’s what it is , he reasoned, trying to convince himself. It has to be. Velvette can't know. 

 

“You still with me, V?” Velvette smirked at the dazed, slightly fuzzy expression on Vox’s display. 

 

“Mm?” Vox blinked away the standby static. “Yeah, ‘m here.” Vox zoned back in, trying to appear more alert than he actually was, straightening his spine from a tired slouch. 

 

“Good,” Velvette replied. If she noticed Vox’s slurred speech, she didn’t comment on it. “You’re still a fucking idiot, you know,” she fumed, scowling. “You seriously thought Val did all that because he cared?” She questioned him skeptically. Velvette really couldn’t believe it after what she’d seen of Vox’s and Val’s relationship. She rationalized it, assumed Vox got off on the obvious abuse, or there was a deal she wasn’t aware of, but not this. 

 

“He always ‘pologized.” Vox muttered. Velvette was taken aback by the sincerity behind it. Vox’s features drooped tiredly, defeat scrawled all over him. “Fixed me up, took me on nice dates, got me flowers… He loved me, didn’t he?” His heart ached at the sentiment of that statement in the past tense. 

 

“Vox…” Velvette trailed off. In her years watching the couple’s unique brand of dysfunction from the sidelines, she was familiar with that glint Valentino would get, the sneer caught on his lips masquerading as a smile. That was a look she knew too well— the hideous look of a man who wanted nothing but power. 

 

“Didn’t he?” Vox asked again, leaning further back into the comforting feeling of cool couch cushions to remain level against the constant waft of tiredness and nothing else . He stared her down piteously, his piercing gaze begging for her to confirm the beautiful lie he wanted to hold on to.

 

“No, Vox.” Velvette’s voice tightened around the cold truth, a breath catching in her throat as what was visible of Vox’s expression beneath the damaged LEDs contorted in grief. “I thought you knew.” She looked down at her lap instead. “I’m sorry I didn’t… do more, I guess. You didn’t deserve that.” 

 

“‘S okay.” It was insufficient, but it was all he could force out. Vox still felt like crying, but he knew there would be consequences if he did now . 

 

“You’re a dumbass,” Velvette said, shaking her head fondly.

 

“I’ve heard.” He was too exhausted and heartbroken and overwhelmed with keeping up appearances to think of a wittier response. 

 

“Bedtime already, hm?” She suggested lightly. 

 

“Nuh-uh,” Vox refused on impulse. Bedtime was dark and scary, and there were monsters . And it was boring. 

 

“Nuh-uh, huh?” She mimicked in an amused lilt. 

 

“No! I mean,” Vox scrambled for an explanation, “what about you?” 

 

“Smooth.” Velvette’s reply dripped with sarcasm. 

 

“But really. Shouldn't you go home?” Vox insisted. 

 

“Well, I just found out you aren’t dead , so you’re stuck with me tonight.” 

 

“‘Kay,” Vox accepted with a brief pang of guilt, his hand absentmindedly drifting to his face.

 

“Yeah,” Velvette drew out, “alright, time for sleep.” 

 

“Mhm.” He nodded.

 

“Are you chewing your sleeve?” Only then did Vox realize that his sleeve had made its way into his mouth. He cringed, removing it hastily. 

 

“No…?” 

 

“You’re a real dumbass,” Velvette said, stifling a loud laugh at Vox’s expense. “You’re like… good though, right?” Her demeanor shifted almost imperceivably. Vox was acting weird , she noted.

 

“Fine! I’m fine.” Vox dismissed too eagerly. Velvette narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Just tired.”

 

“Something’s up. Tell me what’s wrong.” Velvette demanded. 

 

“Nothing’s— everything’s fine,” Vox stuttered unconvincingly. 

 

“Bullshit. And we both know it, so just tell me.”

 

“Can’t.” Vox’s head was downturned, his eyes pinned to the floor. 

 

“Whatever. You will eventually.” Velvette said confidently, even though she didn’t know if that was true anymore. 

 

“‘Kay.” Vox folded his hands in his lap, squeezing them together to look more put-together.

 

“Alright, enough stalling. Bedtime, V.” Velvette grabbed Vox’s hand, the one not decorated with a damp, gross sleeve, and dragged him in the direction of the rooms. Instead of stumbling behind, though, Vox fell, his single free arm barely breaking his fall. 

 

“Shit! You okay?” Velvette held onto his hand, expecting the overlord to dust himself off or complain, but Vox just sat there dumbfounded. He took a deep, shuddering breath in and out, swallowing a knot in his throat. It was just a fall! Was he really so childish? 

 

“Vox?” Velvette squatted down to his level, nudging his shoulder at the lack of response. Vox scolded himself. Now he was worrying Vel. Schooling his expression to a practiced, professional one, he steadied his breathing. There was only so much he could do, though, his eyes brimming with promised tears.

 

“‘M fine, Vel. Don’t worry.” Vox stood at that, Velvette following.

 

Vox led Velvette to his room, a tense aura hanging heavily over them and their silent conversation. Velvette tried to peek at Vox’s face, and every time he would turn away defiantly. Anxiety gnawed at her. Vox was clearly hiding something, and she didn’t like it, especially after what happened between him and Val. What else didn't she know?

 

The first thing Vox noticed when he opened the door to his room was that Alastor was gone. Unbeknownst to him, Alastor had fallen asleep in his room a while ago after deeming Velvette to not be a threat to Vox or the hotel. Vox’s heart sank a little, and he wondered for a moment if and how he’d explain his and the radio demon’s maybe sort of relationship to Velvette. Later, he conceded.

 

“You can take the bed, if you want.” Vox said, collapsing into his computer chair. 

 

“Seriously? You’re ridiculous.” Velvette made her way over to the bed anyway. She sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep in that stiff chair. She fidgeted with the soft blue sheets.

 

After a few moments’ consideration, Velvette threw a spare blue pillow and blanket with force, hitting Vox in the face with a muted thud. Pain shot through the remaining cracks in his screen, white pixels jittering about for a few moments. He hissed in pain, and Velvette winced once she realized what she’d done; any pride in hitting her target evaporated. 

 

“Shit,” she whispered to herself sharply. “You okay?” She took a couple steps towards Vox, her concern growing when she heard distorted hiccupping sobs.

 

Vox shook his head rapidly, beyond words. If he spoke now, he knew he’d be found out. His glossy eyes reflected pain and unmissable fear. He brought his knees to his chest, curling into a trembling ball as the desk chair protested with a quiet squeak. Velvette knew she hadn’t hurt him that badly. Vox had gotten up and laughed after worse fights. This wasn’t actually about the pain, she concluded.

 

“Hey,” she said in a voice so gentle, like Vox was made of thin, cracked glass, and he may as well have been with the doubled effort he had to use to muffle his cries. She’s going to know, and she’s going to see how weak he is, and she’s going to leave. Vox’s thoughts spiraled further away from him.

 

“Hey. Stop it.” Velvette put a hand on Vox’s arm, grounding him just enough to stop his thoughts that sounded a lot like Val. Hurt shot through her at that scared expression, and she pulled him into a rough hug. 

 

“You’re not gonna like me anymore,” Vox whispered out, trying to hide his face from the world.

 

“Bullshit!” Velvette huffed out a laugh. She couldn’t imagine a world where that was true. 

 

“‘Kay.” He relaxed, holding onto the hug for a little longer before looking Velvette in the face, lip trembling, hands furrowed into defiant fists against the chair’s arms. 

 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” 

 

“Don’t wanna,” Vox turned away, pouting as if he were oh-so superior, despite the grief still readily evident in his features. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding?” Velvette sighed, exasperated. 

 

“No!” Vox wailed, his facade crumbling immediately. 

 

“Shh!” Velvette moved to cover his mouth. “You’re acting like a child, Vox.” She grumbled out, unimpressed. 

 

“Can’t help it!” Vox cried out.

 

“Knock it off!” 

 

"Can't!"

 

“Ahem.” A familiar, radio-filtered voice came from an unassuming shadow on the wall, breaking up the repetitive argument. Alastor.

 

“Al!” Vox scrambled over to him, worming away from Velvette in her surprise. He half-crawled over as he fell off his seat. 

 

“Am I interrupting something?” Alastor’s voice crackled with threatening energy.

 

“Yes, actually!” Velvette’s eyes widened at the sight of Vox running to his enemy weakly, tears streaming down his face. Stranger still was the fact that Alastor let him cling onto him without so much as a dirty look. Vox gave him a pleading gaze. If anyone, Alastor could get him out of this situation.

 

“A bit late for secrets, don’t you think, old pal?” Alastor asked, and Vox shook his head in vehement disagreement. The radio demon only laughed. 

 

“Okay, what the fuck?” Velvette stared Alastor down. Despite how untrustworthy he was, he seemed to actually understand what was happening with Vox right now. 

 

“Language,” Alastor warned, which earned a scoff from the opposing overlord. “Vox has simply regressed to a younger age. Presently, he is effectively a child.” Vox huddled closer to Alastor, shielding himself from Velvette's reaction. 

 

“You really expect me to buy that?” Velvette erupted into laughter. When she caught a glimpse of Vox, though, she stopped abruptly as the puzzle pieces clicked together. “No fucking way.” 

 

“I can assure you—” 

 

“I would’ve noticed if that was something that happened! I would’ve–” She stopped.

 

“Would you have?” Alastor echoed her thoughts, then turned to face Vox. “You should sleep.” 

 

“Nuh-uh!” Vox refused.

 

“You are tired.” Alastor informed him matter-of-factly.

 

“Monsters,” he muttered, holding onto Alastor’s arm and surveying the darkest corners of the room, illuminating them with his screen. 

 

“Really?” Velvette sighed thinly, watching the interaction in disbelief. 

 

“I suppose a nightlight would help, hm?” Alastor checked, and Vox nodded quickly, so Alastor summoned a simple one on the nightstand with practiced ease.

 

“Vox?” Velvette asked from halfway across the room, where she stood, watching in awe. “You can’t be serious, right?” 

 

“Mad at me…?” Vox’s expression wilted, and Velvette realized then and there that he was, in fact, being deadly serious. Alastor glared her way.

 

“No, no!” Velvette assured him of her own volition. She wouldn’t be complacent to the radio demon. Still, she felt bad. Was she really essentially bullying a child? If this wasn’t some elaborate trick, and the whole situation was seeming more credible by the second, she'd been a real asshole. Vox had tells when he lied, and as hard as it was for the average demon to see them, she’d been around him for long enough to see right through him. “V, I’m sorry. Okay?” 

 

Vox gasped, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “Really?”

 

“Pfft, yeah, really.”

 

“It’s okay!” Vox accepted, overjoyed that Velvette still wanted to be his friend.

 

“How sweet,” Alastor commented, “but it really is time you got to bed. It is far too late for you to be up.” 

 

With that, Vox hurried under the covers, hiding his head under a blanket. Alastor adjusted the sheets, tucking Vox in to his delight. Moments after Vox’s head hit the pillow, he was in a deep, comfortable sleep. 

 

“Now, Velvette, dear. We have much to discuss.” Alastor turned to face her, and she stood her ground, crossing her arms in nonchalant judgment. 

 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “What the hell was all that about?”

 

“I did already explain.” 

 

“No.” Velvette refused. “What did you do to him?”

 

“Absolutely nothing. To my knowledge, he was always like this.” 

 

“That’s shit, and you know it!” Velvette took a step towards the radio demon, ready to fight. “I would’ve noticed! He– he would have told me!”

 

“Would he have, now?” Alastor said lightly. 

 

“Yes! Obviously.” She hesitated. “Especially if he told you. ”

 

“Maybe Vox doesn’t trust you as much as you thought he did, hm?” Alastor's suggestion hit her in the gut. Velvette clenched her fists tightly, and she charged forward, throwing a punch, but the radio demon was quicker, melting into the shadows and reappearing a few feet away. 

 

“Take that back, asshole!” 

 

“Quiet. Have you forgotten there are people trying to sleep?” Alastor pointed out. As if on cue, Vox’s screen lit up the scene in front of him. 

 

“Fighting?” Vox pulled the blanket closer to his chest, the upset clear in his voice. 

 

“No!” Velvette shouted hurriedly. “No, everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.” 

 

“My fault…?” His question was punctuated with a sniffle.

 

“No! Course not.” Velvette dismissed. “Alastor’s fault.” The sound of a screeching record could be heard in the distance. 

 

“Nuh-uh.” Vox seemed entertained by the concept. “He’s nice to me!” 

 

“Weren’t you guys trying to kill each other last week?” 

 

“Oh…” Vox realized. That was true. “Sorry, Al. Didn’ mean it!” 

 

“I suppose I apologize too, my friend.” Alastor relented, and he found that he meant it.

 

“Friends again?” Vox kicked his feet beneath the bedsheets.

 

“It does seem that way, hm?”

 

“You're kidding." Velvette interrupted.

 

“Perhaps this is a conversation better left for tomorrow.” Alastor remarked. Vox would likely be in a more grown-up headspace by then, and if not, they would all at least be rested.

 

“Fine.” Velvette huffed frustratedly. She could agree with him on one thing, at least. “Tomorrow.”

Notes:

i stayed up until 2:30 am working on this and was surprised i woke up late the next day