#(probably because I said 'I am so sad')

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 2 - Psyche Skills

Part 1 - Part 3

[naamahdarling]

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[sashthesloth]

Finished veilguard, I finally will go on the tag as a treat because those last 4 hours put me through so much....

[rainingincale]

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[lunarharp]

scribbly first date type affair (continuation of my modern au stuff)

[ajxrn-archive]

I need to be put in a waffle iron or something

[vaguehotels]

had the most braindead repetitive conversation/argument with my parents. buzz cuts are too masculine but if you dye a design on it it become effeminate which is bad because then you look weak and if youre weak then society falls apart (all societies ever that have fallen apart for any reason are actually because of feminine men) and we start sacrificing babies. and also all mental illness is invented because only 4 people had anxiety in the 90s and covid was made up so that we would all become gay and trans and then the government can control us better and be joe biden's little sex slaves. and also i need to keep my hair long because my father finds it attractive. what

[girlivealwaysbean]

so sad for absolutely no reason

[cha1cedony]

They do not prepare you for writing the grand finale of baby's first 100k longfic. I am so sad :( I'm gonna miss it :((((( Good thing I have a bajillion other installments planned but like :(((((((((((((

[blackjackkent]

The city is hovering on the edge between summer and autumn, and the night has just the slightest hint of a chill on the air as Hector climbs the stairs to the balcony of the Singing Lute Inn, where Karlach told him to meet her.

She's already seated at the table; he can see her fidgeting nervously as he approaches, and her head snaps up, startled, at the sound of his footsteps. Then the nerves are wiped from her face as she grins brightly.

"Hi. Hi! You made it!" she says eagerly. Leaning forward, she pushes back the chair next to her at the table; her eyes run over him from head to foot, drinking in the sight of him in this place so far from camp or combat. "You look nice," she murmurs.

Hector has been nothing but excited to come out and spend this time with her, ever since she suggested the idea - but now, to his own surprise, he feels a pleasantly warm, bashful feeling settle into his chest and realizes he is blushing a little.

Their relationship has been rather backwards and jumbled, he reflects. Months of hoping, wishing, pining after someone he could not even touch, let alone have... and then the collapse, barely over the course of a day, into passionate love - which was new enough for him, when it happened. This, a more traditional romantic moment, is perhaps even more unfamiliar to him now. But unlike so many of the things he has faced that were new and terrifying... this is new and joyful, because it is with her. He is safe, with her eyes on him, no matter what.

"So do you," he murmurs, looking back appreciatively, and he is gratified to see a similar dark flush rise in her cheeks as well at the compliment.

"Thank you," she answers with a bright smile. Shifting nervously in her seat, she picks up the menu hastily and peruses it with an intense studiousness.

"Hmm. Baldurian seafood stew. No thank you..." She peers at him over the top of the sheet. "What do you think you'll have?"

He is conscious of the surreal feeling that they are performing a play for each other, each of them trying to sort out what "acting normal" entails, with a little warm thrill as they successfully hit each beat in the scene. "The grilled rothe ribs sound good," he says with a slight smile.

She grins with an air of relief. "Just what I had in mind," she agrees. She waves eagerly at the innkeeper, a broad and rather surly orc gentleman. "Two of the rothe ribs, please," she says firmly. "And two glasses of..." She pauses, looks questioningly at Hector.

"Wine," Hector puts in, pointing at the item on the menu.

"And two glasses of wine," Karlach finishes, and nods with satisfaction.

As the bartender stalks off, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes narrow, taking on a playful air as she starts to relax into the moment.

"So... you're an adventurer, right? How's that going?"

Hector grins, mildly bemused. "You've been by my side for a lot of it, you know," he points out.

She gives him an gentle nudge in the shoulder. "I know, but this is our *first date*, remember?" she says conspiratorially. "Tonight, you're a mystery to me."

His eyebrows lift in understanding, and he opens his mouth to try and answer in kind, continue the conceit of them being strangers to each other... but then he stops, and grins sheepishly. He's neither actor, liar, nor orator at the best of times, and if he is honest, he is finding the way she is looking at him... distracting.

"I'm not sure I can pretend I don't already love you," he says ruefully.

She hesitates, then laughs, shaking her head. "It's all I can do to keep my hands to myself anyway," she answers, and snorts softly. "We're terrible at this."

He reaches out, puts a hand on hers on the table, grinning at her slight discomfiture. "Want to get out of here?" he says teasingly.

Her eyes widen and her face flashes through a mix of eagerness and determination in rapid succession. "No! ...Yes-- No. We came to have a nice date, and that's what we're going to do." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him with a stubborn smirk. "Go on. Date me. I dare you."

Hector laughs softly. "You're right. So... erm... where did you grow up?" he tries, after a moment's thought, trying to determine what he might ask her if he had never met her before, if the scent and warmth of her were still things he had yet to experience. This is still not his strong suit - but he will make the effort if it will make her happy.

She brightens up excitedly and settles back into the moment with only a little awkwardness.

"Right here in Baldur's Gate, more or less," she says, gesturing out to the view of the city below them. "My folks are long gone now. But they raised me in the Outer City. Dad was a porter in town, mum did laundry." She smiles nostalgically. "Still think of her when I smell clean sheets. We were poorer than dirt, but my gods we had fun."

He leans back in his seat, just enjoying listening to the sound of her voice, her excitement, her happiness at being back in the city, all washing over him. He's heard some of this from her before - but not all of it. Perhaps this 'pretending to be strangers' bit has even more merit than he expected.

"What about you?" she asks him curiously.

(A/N: The three options here are "much like yours," "i don't like to talk about my past," and "I'm from baldur's gate too, I wonder if we crossed paths"; none of these are actually relevant to Hector's experience of growing up at the monastery. So we're going to skip over this line. XD )

He has told her some things about his life among the monks of Silverlight before - but fairly little about his childhood there. He finds himself starting to talk about it now, though. He has no real stories of joy and excitement like those she describes, and on some level he has started to realize just how barren his life was in these particular regards until he met her... but there were good memories too. He ends up telling her a little about the lessons he received - how he started being trained as a scribe before they discovered his fascination with the ancient tomes and texts of their historical library...

She listens with rapt fascination, just as he had listened to her, a slight, blissful smile on her face.

It's hard to say how long they sit there, caught in the conversation, trading stories back and forth; both of them have started to relax into this 'first date' conceit and Hector feels his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling. They're only interrupted by the eventual arrival of their food... which is wrong.

Two plates of seafood stew land on the table in front of them, along with the two glasses of wine. Karlach looks down at the plate with an air of some disappointment - but is met with a curse from the irritable innkeeper who stalks away when she tries to ask for a change.

Hector can see her struggling to mask the disappointment at the meal not quite going as planned, and she forces a smile back onto her face.

"Worst guy I ever met," she mutters wryly. "How about a toast?"

But, frazzled, she moves too fast, and the wine glass slips from her fingers as she goes to lift it, sending a spray of pale purple across the table - and over her lap. "Oh, SHIT," she snaps, and Hector can hear her voice crack.

Frowning, he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. He can feel the increased heat of the engine in her palm and knows it for a sign of her agitation, and his thumbs drift over her knuckles gently, soothingly. "We can use my glass," he says mildly, and reaches to lift it between them. "To us."

He can see her relax, his voice and touch pushing away the frustration in favor of something warmer. She smiles slightly, nods agreement as he makes the toast, and her eyes track his intensely. The conceit of the first date is gone abruptly, and he sees the full depth of feeling in her eyes, everything they have built together in the months that he has been hers.

"May we live every day as if it were our last," she says softly. "'Cause you never know when your last will come." Before he can respond, she pushes up from her chair and leans across the table to press her lips against his fiercely.

As always, the oblique reference to how little time they have left makes his heart twist in his chest -- but now it is his turn to push that down and away. It has no place here. This moment is for her - for them - to feel, just for a little while, like they can say anything, do anything... like just for one night they are not trapped in the raging river of fate that is dragging them along.

Just for tonight, he thinks, and kisses her deeply, one hand sliding into her hair. Just for tonight... we have all of time ahead of us...

-----

It must be nearly two in the morning, he reflects vaguely sometime later, as he peers out at the curve of the moon and its position slowly descending towards the west. He's barely been aware of the passage of time; the last few hours have been some of the happiest of his life. Just like she promised... no monsters, no fights, no fears, just them, together, talking about whatever comes to mind, each sentence punctuated by a brush of fingertips against a hand or a cheek, a stolen kiss, a sip of wine...

And of course, the seafood stew, which really is dreadful, but certainly filling.

Karlach leans back in her chair with a heavy, contented sigh. "That was great," she mumbles, and flicks a glance at Hector with a slow smile. "The food and the company."

They've both had a little too much wine, really. Hector's lips have been fixed in a permanent, slightly giddy grin for at least the last hour. All the dark thoughts are far behind him now and he feels as if he is simply drifting, content to be near her, and has been forever, and will be forever still.

"Lovely having a normal evening amid the chaos..." he says quietly.

She smiles wryly. "Whatever do you mean? We're just two normal people... living normal lives... very, very normally."

But she can't maintain the facade again; her voice cracks just a little, and she reaches out abruptly, putting her hand over his on the table.

He stirs slightly, the happy buzz fading as he registers something serious and sad coming into her eyes.

"I know I can't stay forever," she says quietly. There's no attempt at jocular humor this time, no wry deflection or avoidance. Her voice is soft and flat, full of love and full of grief. "Here. With you. In fact, I feel like..." She swallows. "Like I don't have long left at all."

His face spasms with a failed effort to contain the fear that floods through him at those words. Every moment he knows it is on the horizon, and yet hearing her speak of it directly, as something looming even closer than before, feels like a dagger through his heart.

Her hand tightens around his, pulling him a little closer to her. "We've been through so much," she goes on. "And the worst is yet to come. I have every reason to feel terrified, hopeless... like giving up." She draws a breath and lets it out slowly, visibly struggling to keep composure long enough to finish speaking. "But to be here, with you, in the city I love, in this world I love so much... it's all I could really ask for."

She reaches out, cups her hand against his cheek, running her thumb along the edge of his beard. It's an affectionate gesture, of course, but it also serves to pull his face towards her, to nudge open his eyes so they meet hers squarely. "You hear me?" she says, suddenly fierce, her voice cracking again as the emotion starts to overwhelm her. "*You're* all I could ever ask for. I love you... and I know that whatever else this city will throw at us, we can handle it."

He is listening with such fervent attention that he feels a muscle start to ache in his neck. And though his instinct, whenever this topic comes up, is to recoil into grief... this time he forces himself only to listen, to let her words flow through him and strengthen him.

Maybe it will end. But it meant something. It meant everything. It will always have meant everything...

He will have that to hold onto, when the pain eventually finds him. As it will, no matter how hard he tries to look away.

"I love you too," he whispers unsteadily, looking back into her eyes, his gaze heavy with all the love he feels for her. In almost every other moment, he is so careful with what he shows, how he controls himself... but not here. There is nothing hidden, not from her.

She smiles, kisses him again, slow and deep, then rests her forehead against his. "Come on," she murmurs. "There's something I want to show you upstairs."

He has to take a moment and breathe several times before he trusts himself to speak. "What is it?" he asks.

She laughs, only a little shakily. "I rented us a room for the whole night. Just the two of us -- alone, finally."

In spite of the emotional strain of the conversation, he feels a flicker of eager warmth go all through him, and she grins at the expression on his face.

"After you," he says, and pushes himself unsteadily to his feet.

-----

He has only ever experienced their lovemaking in camp. And he had never had anything to complain of. She has always been more wonderful than he would have words to describe, no matter where they are. He wouldn't have thought to ask for more even if it had been an option.

But this... gods. A soft bed and her warmth all over him, the same hungry eagerness that has marked their previous encounters, and yet... slow.

They had claimed to each other that they were going slow, that first night back in the shadowlands - but it wasn't really. It was rushed and desperate, full of need and urgency - both from desire and from the necessary limitations of sex in a camp full of other people.

This... this is slow. They have all night, and no one to bother them, nothing to distract. He is free to take his time, explore every part of her as she explores him. And the look in her eyes as their bodies meld together is something he will never forget if he were to live to be a thousand years old.

He loves her... he loves her... he loves her... and he can feel her on the edge of slipping away from him, but he will carry this with him into the darkness when she is gone.

He loves her and he is losing her and he does not know what he will do without her.

But they have this.

They have this...

[elegyofthemoon]

also to anyone who plays honkai, does anyone have other translations of the game? aside from the official?

i feel like i talked about this with a friend, but the translations just. don't line up with what's being said a lot of the time and it's slightly driving me insane x - x

[yourbleedingh3art]

Hi tumblr

[eversncenewyork]

on todays episode of: am i a huge c*nt or did my date last night rly fuck up?

[farbeagle]

Category 5 Neurotypical Moment

Ignore the dog hair. That was inevitable.

[ranvwoop]

Obligatory Statement. I have been aware of current happenings! This is for sure! I can just sort of wish that Shbble can be somewhat at peace in all of this

consider this my public denouncement of That Guy

[e-m-p-error]

Our Distance And That Person

Why My Angel Dust went to the hotel fic. Put under a cut for length.

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, M/M, AU - Canon Divergent, Cheating, Emotional Manipulation, Stalking, Coercion, Suicide, Forced Suicide, Hypnotism, Gaslighting, Daddy Kink, Jealous!Vox, Vox Is WAY Worse Than Val, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

---

Valentino always thought he was slick.

No blame could be shelved on his beautiful shoulders because he was too sneaky to be caught with his hands in the cookie jar. But he had four spindly hands that were constantly digging into the heart of every pie in front of him without care.

Vox knew what his little love was doing. Hell, Valentino knew what he was doing. If there was a manipulative little bitch in Hell, there were a million manipulative little bitches in Hell. But there wasn't a manipulative little bitch in Hell that could hold a candle to Valen-fucking-tino.

If Val wanted to run around on him, fine. If he wanted to run to some other poor fool's bed, then fine. But this wasn't simple cavorting. It was more than just playing with other toys while he waited for Vox to calm down and apologize. 

This was retaliation.

This was overkill.

This was war.

If Valentino wanted to get Vox's attention, he sure had it. Vox kept his eye on him through his browser history, through his phone, the texts he sent, and the songs he listened to. He knew that Valentino had listened to Nazareth's Love Hurts for the last two days straight whenever he was alone. Unfortunately, he knew that Valentino was spending less time alone than Vox would have liked.

No, he was out playing games with that cocky little whore of his. As if Vox of all people wouldn't notice them going out to that dance hall that Valentino liked Vox to take him to. Or the steakhouse they went to for their anniversary that year. Or the expensive lingerie store that Valentino liked almost as much as he liked getting things from Velvette. Valentino was putting his new dalliance on display, and Vox had had just about enough of these theatrics.

There was no Daddy in Hell like Vox, and it was about damn time that he reminded his runaway Bunny of that fact.

Angel Dust was a monkey in the fine-tailored cashmere suits that Valentino was dressing him in. He was a gangly, senseless lout with a mouth bigger than anything else he could offer. Uneducated, undisciplined, unimpressive. The only thing he had going for him was his looks.

Vox, meanwhile, was the whole package. Successful, intelligent, charismatic, reliable, hypnotic, sensual, powerful. 

Whatever Valentino saw in his little pawn was little more than wishful thinking. Even Velvette hadn't been able to pull out of him what he saw in Angel Dust that didn't involve his fucking legs. Or his chest. His looks.

Well, Vox was a looker, too. And he was perfectly capable of making sure that Angel Dust wasn't worth looking at anymore. If Valentino hadn't wanted misfortune to befall his little starlet then maybe he should have kept his scrawny ass out of this.

But he hadn't.

He hadn't, and now they were both going to pay the price.

When he checked Valentino's calendar, he ignored the glaring ANGEL CAKES <3 with the hot pink background on Valentino’s off hours. He needed to focus on what he was actually doing, he wasn’t going to mess around in Valentino’s spare time. No, what he was looking for was the club schedules. He didn't want to get Angel before a porn shoot, that seemed... Well. If Vox wanted to work this angle, he'd need to do so in a way that wouldn't put his precious Bunny out too much. Missing out on a day of filming If You Say So might have clouded the feelings of Rejection that Vox wanted to cultivate. There wasn't much that could sway Valentino's feelings like that, but bleeding money?

That was more likely to make him mad. Vox wanted despondent, needy, and pliant.

It wasn't uncommon for his performances to be at Club Hell 666, and when he found the one on the schedule for tonight, he smirked. Checking the time on his internal HUD, he hummed as he strode to one corner of his control room. With a glance at the screen to make sure that he was flawless—and he was—the Sinner disappeared into the camera with a static hum. 

It had been a long, long night. Angel Dust was still sore from the shoot yesterday, and then having to pour the rest of his energy into keeping Val happy? The spider was dog-tired. But that didn't matter. What mattered was Valentino’s happiness. Only part of this thought was that he loved him–and he did–the rest was to say that Valentino would be somewhat tolerable if he was kept happy during his fight with Vox. It wasn’t the first, it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the current one, and that made it the worst ever.

A little more blow disappeared up his nose and he closed his eyes, sighing softly. His lower hands gripped the vanity, and his upper hands combed through his hair slowly. Microdosing on affection helped him at his job more than he'd like to admit because it kept him grounded despite the overwhelming desire to flee. Well, usually. Tonight, the throbbing of the bass from another dancer's routine was doing little to quell the pain in his chest. 

Valentino didn't love him, of that much he was sure. Angel wasn't the smartest man in any room he'd ever been in, but he knew a setup when he saw one. Valentino's goal, in the end, was Vox. He'd known that even back when Valentino was still charming him. His priority had always, always been Vox.

That didn't stop him from growing feelings in those early decades, though. From watering them and talking to them and letting them flourish. Even now, with Valentino treating him like dirt half the time and like he was a little piece of Heaven the rest of it, he loved him.

And he hated it. Drawing in a deep breath, he reached for the vase of red roses on his dresser and his eyes slammed open again. Hurling it across the room, his chest heaved with heavy panting as he growled, eyes narrowed. It was the turning that brought his attention to the Overlord looming behind him, just out of sight of the mirror he’d been standing in front of.

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit, fuck, fuck, fuck.

”Uh— M-Mistah Vox!“ He chirped suddenly, putting on his customer service voice as his eyes shot open wide and his smile formed tight over his teeth, tense, just barely shy of a grimace, ”Ta what d'I owe da plea...sure?“ 

”Oh, Angel,“ Vox began as he placed both hands behind his back, ”Pleasure's more... Valentino's thing, wouldn't you say?“

Angel didn't like how he said that, how he kicked his leg forward when he started across the room. He'd seen his share of snakes in his day, but this was more of a shark. Wading, waiting, watching. Ready to consume at any moment.

The way he felt seen right now was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, and he was a Satan damned pornstar.

”I, uh. I... Y-yeah, I guess so.“ The spider trapped himself against his vanity as Vox finished his strut to the door, pressing his palm flat against it. For a second, he considered his next actions, before closing his eyes and reaching out an invisible tether to the nearest security cameras. Figured that they would be outside of Angel Dust's dressing room and also inside it. Using his tether to the one outside, he swung it from side to side to ensure that the coast was clear. When it inevitably was, he returned it to its perfect angle and immediately cut the signal of both cameras.

Most likely, Valentino wouldn't notice, and it wouldn't take him long to do what he came here to do. He'd flip the switch back when he was finished.

Valentino didn't need to hear his little boy toy scream in agony when the inevitable happened.

”So, can I do sumtin' for ya...?“ The high pitch in Angel's voice told him that the spider had some level of an idea of what was about to happen to him. It was about to hurt, whatever it was, and he could see that when the TV swiveled on his neck. God, he hated it when Sinners did creepy shit like that, but it kept him struck to the spot regardless.

”I don't think so, no.“ Vox's voice was dismissive, colored with static as he turned suddenly on a dime, pivoting like every move he ever made had been meticulously practiced, ”But I can do something... To you.“

”Huh?“

”Oh, nothing, nothing. It shouldn't hurt... Too much. I just need to send a little message to you that I don't think you're willing to receive if I'm not in the room with you.“ A cruel grin overtook his mouth as his left eye widened and the bullseye there pulsed. Angel's eyes reflected the black growing in waves, and he smirked.

”I need you to fetch a piece of that glass.“ Vox told him, turning to look at the broken vase, ”And I need you to draw it across your wrists. And then your throat. You can do that for me, can't you?“

”Yes, Vox.“ Angel's voice was on autopilot as the spider began to move, and Vox tutted.

”Ah, ah, ah. Wait a moment. When you come back... I want you to leave. Don't return to work. Let Valentino think you don't want him anymore. Am I understood?“

”Yes, Vox.“

”Good. I'll leave you to that, then.“

There was a pause.

"Oh, and Angel? Remember. This is our little secret. It wouldn’t do for you to go and run your mouth about this, so how about you do us both a favor and forget I was even here?"

“Yes, Vox.” Vox didn’t stay long enough to hear his name being said. The camera fizzled back online as Vox disappeared once more, leaving Angel Dust to his fate.

It wasn't even two hours later that Vox got the call. Valentino's precious 'o' face appeared on Vox's screen alongside his pet name on Vox's phone as Paul Anka’s Put Your Head On My Shoulder began to play.

Bunny Is Calling!

Vox wanted to be in caretaker mode the second he answered the phone, but he knew better than to give away his position like that. The pathetic little sniffle that started the call, however, did touch his black little heart, and he sighed.

“Are you drunk?” He questioned, “I'm not ready to apologize to you.” What a good liar, he was. Especially to a drunk Valentino.

“D-Destello,” Valentino whimpered, sobbing openly into the palm of his upper left hand, “He's— He—” Another shaky breath, and he let out a whine, “He killed himself.”

“Who, Bunny?” Sitting up, his brow creased and he threw the call onto one of his other monitors, watching as Valentino's face filled the screen. He looked like a mess, glowing pink tears slid down his cheeks and stained his skin and fur, and Vox could confirm that he was, indeed, drunk. And at home.

“A-Angie.” Came the broken reply, and the moth let loose another little whimper, soft and desperate, “I don't wanna be alone, Daddy. Please. Please.”

“Oh, Bunny. I am… I am so sorry. Maybe the attention was just too much for him.” Vox suggested, keeping the smile off of his face, but only barely. The proficient look of concern on his face was one that he had meticulously planned and practiced, and it was well worth it. Val was buying it, hook, line, and sinker, “Do you need anything?”

“Y-You,” This time, another sob shook his shoulders and Valentino dropped his phone onto the couch. Curling up beside it, he let the video continue to display the ceiling of his room, “C-come see me. I'm...”

Was he going to apologize? Vox perked up a little more, his lips parted in curiosity.

“Lo lamento, Destello. Ven aquí por favor.” 

Wow. He really did apologize, and in no small words, either. Lamento, huh? Valentino really must have been feeling lonely. Perfect.

A patient, gentle smile and ooey gooey eyes worked onto Vox's screen and he nodded solemnly.

“It's okay, Bunny, don't worry your pretty little head over it. This has obviously gotten to you, and I accept your apology. Let Daddy come and make it all better. We could go shopping if you want?”

The suggestion danced around Val's head for a little bit, before he nodded at the ceiling. Reaching over, he grabbed his phone and turned it so that it could see him again. He nodded once more as the screen rotated and the picture became widescreen.

“Y-yeah, yeah. Si. Let's do... Do that.” Oh, Vox was going to get back in with him so good. This plan was working out so well that he couldn't have even paid for it to go any better.

“I'll be right there, Bunny. Daddy's going to fix you.” He promised with a purr, rising from his seat and adjusting his bowtie, “Just a second, Bunny.”

“Uh-huh. Se-See you soon.“

”See you in just a few seconds.“ As soon as they hung up, Vox had to laugh. It turned into a violent cackle in mere seconds. He'd won! He’d won because of course, he had! Disappearing into the nearest camera with an electric hum and the scent of ozone, he was in Valentino's room in record time with a gracious smile on his face and his arms open wide, ”Bunny? Daddy's he—”

Vox didn't get to finish his sentence before Valentino crashed into his arms. Clinging to his lover tightly, the moth buried his face in Vox's neck. Clutching Vox's suit jacket with his lower hands, his upper arms wrapped tightly around Vox's shoulders. The electric Sinner gently wiggled his arms free, shifting Valentino's arms to wrap around his chest so he could hold him close.

“There, there, Bunny, it's okay—” Vox purred with a whirr of his mechanics, and he rubbed the other's back. Holding him close as the other sank to his knees to make up for the height difference, he hummed softly, “Daddy's here, Daddy's got you. Nothing's going to hurt you, now.” 

“Why'd he— He just—” Valentino blubbered against his shoulder, hiding his face there, now. He didn't wear his glasses, and the lights in his room were all off. The curtain was drawn on the window, letting in as little light as possible. Clearly, he didn't want to be blinded.

“He just...?”

“He k-killed... Himself at work.” A sob, “Did he w-want to get away-haay-haaaaaay from m-me so b-b-baaaad?” There it was, the sobbing, the carrying on, the glowing, pale pink tears streaming down his cheeks. Rubbing Valentino’s back a little more, Vox pressed a kiss to the top of the other's bald head. The taller Sinner was on his knees to be held properly, his thighs quaking.

“Noooo, no, Bunny. Nobody wants to get away from you. You're an absolute delight,” When he was behaving, anyway. Vox knew just what to say to at least get Valentino's antennae to perk up from where they laid flat against his head, “He's just some stupid junkie. He never knew what he had. He probably couldn't hack being in the spotlight with you. You're so much better looking than he is, and all he's got are his looks. You are the entire package, Baby. There’s nothing you can’t do, nothing that you aren’t. This is why Daddy wants you so badly. You’re perfect, and you’re perfect for him.” And Vox’s entire brand was perfection.

Simpering as though Valentino were a child whose ice cream had slipped down his shirt and it was such a shame, Vox cupped Val's cheeks in his claws. Kissing between his eyes, and then down to his lips, he smiled softly.

“Don't you worry about this, Beautiful. Daddy's got you. Daddy loves you. He's sorry we had that stupid fight.“

”M-mee-hee-heeee tooooo-hoo-hooooo.” Another sob wrenched from his lips and he clung tight to Vox, kissing him again as the tears continued to flow. Well, those were going to stain his screen, but it would be worth it. Valentino was his again. And that was fine by him; He’d expected this would be how this would end.

“Say it, Bunny.”

“I luh-huuuuh-hooove you, tooo-hooo-hooo.” Valentino whimpered, and Vox kissed him again, slow, shallow, careful.

“There's Daddy's good Bunny. Let's get you cleaned up and we'll go out on the town tonight, Daddy's treat.” 

At least the option of spending Vox's money was always a good way to perk Valentino right up. He wiped futilely at his cheeks and sat up on his knees with another kiss and a pathetic sniffle. It would be a solid two hours of beautification before they were heading to the limo and on their way to wherever Valentino wanted to waste some big bucks, but that was fine. Vox enjoyed watching Valentino get ready for things, it was oddly calming to him to pick out the routine.

Vox was back, baby.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Translations:

Lo lamento, Destello. Ven aquí por favor. - Spanish - I'm sorry, Spark. Please come here.