#Valentino Dinner

[lingerdingdong]

Marc Revelado Documentary clip and English transcript

[lalalalalalakakakak]

I did this dtiy for @hiwi_191 on Instagram for their 3000 followers!!

Doing full illustration is not exactly my thing (because i get distracted waaaay too easily and I am not great with colors and stuff)

But they all look high as fuck so there is that

eheheheheheheheheh

[muxas-world]

Is all gone now only the bittersweet stays ..

[captainhysunstuff]

Uh oh. I dreamed about RadioApple/AppleRadio (Alastor x Lucifer Morningstar and vice versa) from Hazbin Hotel. I’ve been infected. 😅

[thesixthduke]

[nooripoori]

[graveltrapping]

Debutant | new and novel

Female Marc Márquez

Previous | Next

Uccio doesn’t really care the first time it happens.

Why would he? Valentino was back at Yamaha, he had an incredible opening race,  and to top it off they were all currently at a very nice restaurant with good food and even better drinks. The stake he was eating was perfectly done and just a tiny bit bloody while the wine that had been paired with it was beautifully rich. Music, low and soothing, was playing in the background and melded with the chatter that seemed to come from every corner of the room. It was a quiet night at the establishment and so far no-one had come up asking for photos or autographs. Everything was good.

Everything would be even better if Vale sat back down.

The table they were sat at, tucked int the corner of the rustic restaurant, was draped in a pristine white table cloth and dressed with fine shiny silverware that glittered whenever the hanging lights overhead caught them, the glasses were the same. Polished and pristine, they glittered like crystal. The several plush chairs that had been set up around the table were filled mostly by friends with the occasional Yamaha team member but the seat near the head of the table was empty and pushed back messily, half sticking out into the servers isle before it was tugged back in by the man sitting beside it. The drink that had been ordered sat untouched by an empty dinner plate.

Valentino himself was on the other side of the room.

Uccio can see the exact reason why.

Mar Marquez had walked into the restaurant with a smile and loud laughter, giggling at something her younger brother had said, dressed in some jeans and an oversized dark red t-shirt. Her hair was wild, black coils spilling out of the short little ponytail setting at the nape of her neck. She could of disappeared in the group she was with. Smaller than the rest, most of whom were Honda engineers or family, they orbited her like she was the sun. Rooted firmly at the centre of their attention, she was unmissable even in the hustle and bustle as they were seated at a table near the bar at the back of the room. Vale hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

He had simply said “I’ll be back” and strutted across the room.

He was on her now. Standing behind her chair and head leaned down to talk to the table, both hands planted firmly on her shoulders in a touch Aleccio would consider a bit over familiar. He would consider Mars own touch even more so. Her hands had come up as soon as Vale touched her, palms smoothing over his knuckles before her hands smoothed downwards so she could curl her fingers around his own. Holding him there. Valentino didn’t seem to care, just squeezed her tighter and said smoothing funny that had the whole table breaking out into loud laughter. Marquez had laughed as well, loud and distinct, her curls brushing his throat. Mar had then said something that had the Italians attention almost immediately. Her head was tilted back, cupid bow mouth moving a mile a minute, and Valentino had to pull back a small bit to look at her properly with how close he had been.

His hands remained.

“What do you think he’s saying” Alessio couldn’t held but asked the men around him. He sipped the wine, and winced when it went down a little less sweetly.

“Probably just congratulations.” Mattia hummed as he took a long sip from his own glass “She did good in Qatar”

More laughter echoed from the spaniards tables and they watched as Vale shook hands with several Honda engineers and the brother, Alex, who looked a mix between in awe and intimidated.

Tommas a scoffed slightly “Nearly knocked him off his bike”

Mattia smiled “Ah, she’s a rookie, she’ll learn”

“Learn what?” Daniel quickly put in his own two cents as he watched Vale pull a seat up beside Mar “How to kill someone properly? She’s been pulling the same shit since 125ccs and will continue to do it until she actually throws someone off their bike”

Mar at this point was pointing out several people at the table Uccio didn’t recognise as Vale reached out to shake their hands. They were either family or part of her Moto2 team that she had brought with her up into the new class.

“I thought you liked her” Mattia hummed. He scratched his stubble and shared a look with Uccio who just sipped his drink and cut viciously into his stake.

“I do!” Daniel defended, hands raised, as a flush rose to his face “Its just…”

“Just what?” Alessio couldn’t help but chuckle, knife scarping against the plate “She got you tongue tied, batted her lashes at you and knocked those thoughts out of your fat head?”

Tommas laughed loudly this time “Think she’ll hear you, crash into you instead, run you over coming out of the box?”

More laughter raised around the table as Tommas gripped Daniels and shook him slight, pinching his flushed face meanly. Uccios grinned around his mouthful of food.

“You could ask her to kiss it better after though!”

“Shut up.” Daniel huffed as he slapped the older mans hands away from his still pink cheeks “She’s good, alright, but she just…, just not careful!”

“Who’s not careful?”

Valentinos voice had several mouths snapping shut with clicks and several others taking deep swigs of fine red wine. Tommas grinned particularly broadly as Daniel slumped in his seat, not looking at Rossi and instead focusing intently on his half eaten carbonara. The Italian pulled out the chair he was originally in, fancily carved feet dragging against the floor, and dropped down heavily. He was grinning. He was also holding a glass of white wine he had taken from the spaniards table. 

Those clever blue eyes jumped from person to person before settling on Uccio, brow raising.

Uccio stole a glance back over Vales shoulder.

Mar had her back to them, ponytail now undone, but almost sensing the eyes on her she threw a glance back over her shoulder. Her gaze didn’t go to the man looking at her, no, it zeroed in on Valentino and lingered there. Dissecting, intense, measuring him up even. Her attention was stolen by her brother a moment later. Alex said something that had her laughing, her whole body curving towards him as her head tilted backwards. Valentino glanced backwards at the sound.

Something rankled in his gut, but he gave Vale a carefree grin and decided to just enjoy the rest of his night rather than mull over a thought that deserved a more sober mind.

“Nobody”

He wasn’t much more sober when it happened a second time.

This time they’re at a team diner, everyone sat a the table exclusively Yamaha staff while the tables dotted around them are filled with the rival teams that inhabit the paddock. The tables are draped in similar white cloths, the silver is still shiny, and the glasses are just as polished. Sure the wine wasn’t as nice and they’re were no stakes on the menu to order, which is probably for the better considering how many people there were in the room, but the food that is available is still nice. Was. He had lost his appetite actually, belly flipping at the sight of what was happening across from him in full view of Yamaha head staff and who knows how many photographers that had bartered themselves an entry pass or invitation.

Valentino had pushed his chair about a meter away from the table he was sat at, abandoning his food and drinks and any chance of talking about early contract extensions, and twisted had himself at a full 180 so his back was to them all.

Mar had done the same to her own table.

The Honda team had taken their seats at the dressed up table directly beside their own, with the girl being pushed to take the seat nearest the front and across from Pedrosa who she had been chatting too when they entered. Her attention was quickly stolen by Valentino however, when he turned in his chair to poke at her back to get her to turn around. She had startled slightly, curls bouncing, but the smile she had given was broad and nearly blinding when she realised who had tapped her. Her hair was down, ends curling around her jaw, and she was dressed in a dark pair of jeans and a black button down shirt that seemed a bit tight across the shoulders and arms. The pair had exchanged a few words throughout the night after that, chatting on the way to the bar or simply passing by when talking to others, but they had seemingly fallen into a rabbit hole of conversation the moment food was served. Both pushed way from their tables and blocking a full passage between the tables, they were both staring at Valentinos phone.

He had pushed his chair out, leaning back on its two hind legs to shake Mars shoulder, and had beckoned her closer while pulling out his phone. She had gone easy, her crew chief visibly rolling his eyes when she abandoned their conversation to scoot her chair backwards and press as close as decently possible. Uccio couldn’t hear what they were talking about, the room large and full of echoing voices, but they were both engrossed in it completely. Mar was fixated on Vale, watching both his phone and as his free hand moved through these fluid motions of curving and bending around what Uccio could only guess was a race track.

Was he explaining a racing line he took? Was he critiquing a turn she had over shot? Was he dissecting her first premier class win.

Uccio didn’t know.

What he did know, however, was that Valentino was completely engrossed in the conversation he was having to the point of ignoring the literal holders of his contract. Sure, early contract extension was basically already completely assured by Valentinos name alone but security and term adjustments were always able to be changed and tweaked even in the early stages, to just get ahead of the curve. He could do as he always did. Talk, joke, charm the ass off of every person at the table and firmly cement himself back into the foundations of Yamaha. Take back the place Lorenzo was trying to fill.

Instead he was talking to the girl.

He shouldn’t really be too surprised. Vale had always made an effort with rookie riders, even supported young drivers coming up through the feeder series, but this was just…, god he couldn’t even think properly. He took long sip of his wine. It was fine, really, she was a fellow rider and rival. But she was also a girl. He couldn’t just take the liberties that he usually did with other riders but Vale, as he always was, just didn’t seem to care. Uccio needed him to. She was a novelty at best, extremely bad press at worst. Bad thing by association and Uccio wasn’t really willing to risk anything after two long and hard years at Ducati.

He supposed Vale could see those thoughts on his face when he finally rejoined the table.

“ We are supposed to be talking about business” Was the first thing he said to him. Thankfully they were seated side by side so Alessio could speak to him discreetly without drawing attention and making his problem anyone else’s.

Vale just grinned and grabbed his wine glass “You’re talking about business”

“Cause you’re talking to her”

“Yes”. Unashamed. Smug, maybe?

“Vale”

“Uccio”

A moment of silence passed between them. 

Valentino wasn’t stupid, he knew what Uccio meant the moment their eyes met. 

Mar was the first woman in the premier class of the sport, she was new and novel and basically every single eye in the motorsport world was fixated on her every moment of her career and, by extension, every person she interacted with. Everyone she looked at, spoke too, touched. Everything was under a lens. Picked apart by team members, reporters, and fans alike. All vultures in some way or another. She was sweet, yes, a pretty pr face but her riding was aggressive and left so many angles of criticism open but she just didn’t seem to care. Just smiled a shrugged everything off. It all still hung around her though. Every comment a reporter or fellow driver made followed her presence closely even as she moved rapidly up though the series, snatching championships with that aggressive and mean driving that people used as a gateway to criticising Mar and everything else she was. Everything she could be. 

Valentino didn’t need that shit on his plate right now.

But Valentino just grinned and took a long draw of his wine.

[batsplat]

Wait batsplat wdym Casey messaging Vale about his daughter.......

(follow up on this) yeah! I don't really have massively more to add to this except that valentino definitely said it. I was lazy and just pulled up one of the few (poor quality) english websites that posted it but the quotes were widely reported in italian sources and are originally from here (whole interview from early 2022 is worth a read)

"often sends me messages"... often...

while we're at it, casey obviously said a bunch of stuff around the time of valentino's retirement (and in the years since), some fairly nice some rather less so. but one of the things he said was this:

now, personally I doubt this dinner is something that has happened or indeed would happen, not least because I'm not sure valentino would be particularly interested in relitigating past events with casey. "at peace with himself" is the right way to put it, and at the end of the day that's always been a rivalry that has considerably more emotional baggage for casey than it does for valentino. but, I mean, maybe he'd be curious what casey would have to say! can someone ask casey about this again? can someone ask valentino? are they still messaging each other? do they want to schedule the dinner date? can somebody let me sneak into the dinner date so I can listen into what they discuss? why are no journalists or indeed podcast hosts asking them about any of this? why do they refuse to do their jobs properly? the people need to know

[moonshynecybin]

get a VPN girl!!!!!

watched it. he is perhaps the most dickmatized individual in human history

[shushposting]

Hell is Our Paris (2/3)

Valentino puts on his gift, Vox's repressed 1950's ass is hot for it.

princess!kink, feminization!kink, intersex oral sex, prehensile moth dick, exhibitionism/does forcing your employees to stay on video call with you while you go down on your partner count as public sex?, Vox jerks off with the train of a dress because of course he does

Part 1 here https://www.tumblr.com/shushposting/745247138870624256/part-12-staticmoth-princesskink-daddykink

.o.

The elevator paused on the ride up to the top of V Tower, the doors opening for Velvette. The twisted grin she gives him is knowing and full of filthy promises. She shuts the door on her little media clowns that try to follow after her in favor of the two of them riding alone.

“Off to your ivory tower to get ready for your fancy date with your flat-faced prince?” She teases “Did he tell you anything?”

Valentino shakes his head with a hum, “Only that a box or something is waiting for me upstairs and we have a reservation at 10.”

“‘A box or-‘ fucking hell that ‘box’ is worth more than a car.“ She snaps indignantly “And what’s in it is priceless.”

Fuck could this elevator not go any faster

“Stop looking like a kid at Christmas, Val, it’s disgusting.” But there’s no bite, if anything his enthusiasm makes her look smug, no doubt patting herself on the back for her hand in it.

“I’ve waited all day to see what this is. I don’t like waiting. I’m allergic, I get hives and shit.”

“You’re an idiot.” The click click clicks of her typing fills the brief silence before she nudges him with her hip “You’ll love it. Promise.”

“Is it hot?”

“Like hellfire. It’s..” she clicks her tongue, picking her words as carefully as she picks patterns and fabrics, “niche. Honestly, it's the first I’ve ever made like it.”

“You made it? Just for this?” It wasn’t rare for her to make pieces just for them but it made it feel more intense- intimate- that whatever it was Vox wanted had been so specific it needed to be done from scratch.

“Hand sewn by yours truly, I wouldn’t let anybody else touch it.”

“Aww Vel-“

“Upupupup- don’t drag me into the gross feelings, save that energy for Vox.” She flippantly waves her hand in a shooing motion but leaves it dangling in the air expectantly.

He catches her hand and dips at the waist to kiss the back of her knuckles “You're the best, Babydoll.”

"Of course I am." She says as the elevator opens to their shared common room and she steps off "At least remember that when you're ruining that outfit."

The doors close behind her and he watches the numbers climb- and yeah he is like a kid at Christmas, restless and damn near bouncing in his stilettos. He knew the ride was going to take up his whole damn afterlife he would have just flown up-

Really it takes less than a minute to reach the penthouse and for the doors open to the long hall leading to his rooms. Kitty and his sentry girls are already standing by with the doors held open for him. He doesn't bother to acknowledge them, just strides in and slams the door behind him.

And oh Vox, that sweet, hopeless romantic. There's a trail of petals under his feet as soon as he steps in, sweet pink candles flickering here and there along the path they made. He follows them through his flat to the bedroom. There are at least three bouquets worth of the silky red petals scattered on his bed, beautifully setting off the immaculate white of the package sitting on top of it.

The box is massive and Velvette wasn't kidding about the damn thing's worth. There was no ugly brown cardboard and cheap stickers. Like a jeweler's box, it was covered in thin, shiny leather with his name embossed across the front in elegant looping gold. Unmistakable as Vel's exclusive luxury line.

When he lifts the lid all he sees is white. White lace. White silk. White sheer gossamere. White white white

He sees the telltale lace garters and knows where this is going.

Vox's repressed 1950's ass always did get hot and bothered for Val in a dress.

He lifts.. and lifts and lifts and lifts. The sheer skirt is floor-length, slit up the front with a train, the shimmering gossamer pooling over the bed and he has to step back and hold it up as high as he can just to be able to see the whole thing. The bodice is a plunging sweetheart cut with rose-patterned lace over silk cups, the corset below was the same see-through as the skirt. Tight lace panties and a garter set are all there is in the way of bottoms under the skirt. The whole thing was more vintage bridal lingerie than a dress.

For a moment he thinks that in life Vox must have had a magazine with something like this secretly tucked away from his uppity bitch of a wife that never let him touch her unless the lights were off and they were under the sheets. He wonders how long Vox has been sitting on this little fantasy. Wonders if he'll even let him get out of it or just tear the train away from his ass and rip the panties down the middle and fuck him just like that.

Velvette was right, they were going to ruin this.

His phone buzzes, Vox's contact flashing across the screen Do you like it?

"I do." Valentino says out loud, smiling at the camera in the corner of the room

Then put it on. Strip for me.

Val unfolds his wings slowly, letting them slide away as he peels out of his leather pants, bending deep at the waist as they fall off to either side to show his ass. Staying bent Valentino spreads his legs further to slide off his heels- far enough he knows Vox can see between his thighs. He straightens slowly with an exaggerated arch of his back that keeps his hips canted out for Vox's viewing pleasure. When he turns he can see sparks around the camera and he knows the media overlord is getting off on the tease.

He walks towards the camera like he's on a catwalk as he flicks open the buttons of his shirt, his upper hands coming up to play with his chest once they're free. "What do you think, Papi? The gold rings or the diamond barbell tonight?"

He doesn't miss the zoom of the lens as he gets another text Diamonds. The ones I bought you for last year's award show.

A flash of red and Val is in the air, wings lifting him up to level with the camera as he cups and pushes his chest up giving Vox a close-up of the cleavage he's made, rolling his nipples between his claws for show while he slips his lower arms the rest of the way out of the shirt

And drapes it over the camera

HEY

This time Valentino texts back "Commit to the bit, Voxxy. You can't see me in the dress yet, bad luck or some shit."

The typing bubbles appear and disappear a few times. Valentino just laughs and thinks "I broke him" until it finally buzzes

Eyeliner. The cheap shit so it runs when I ruin you

Vox always knew just what to say to make his heart flutter.

.o.

Vox straightens his crisp white suit as he walks briskly down the hall to Valentino's penthouse suite, his assistant skittering after him. "Tell them I want the wine already poured when we sit down, leave the bottle. Wait five minutes and bring the food, then nobody enters the balcony unless I call for them. You did get my order didn't you?"

The eel furiously types up the instructions under the overlord's complex, obnoxiously specific order. "Yessir. I'll send this to the restaurant right away."

A sharp, withering look is shot over the media demon's shoulder as he adjusts his new diamond cufflinks.

"A-and I'll call as well, of course, to make sure they thoroughly understand your instructions, Sir."

"Good man. Have the driver bring the car around."

The eel walks as fast as he can without outright running from his boss. Kitty stands dutifully off to the side of Valentino's double doors, the fat bouquet of roses and little velvet box worth more than her that he'd ordered held out to him.

He takes it, checking inside the box that it's exactly what he wanted before closing it with a satisfied snap. "Kitty, have the elevators cleared, nobody hits a button until after we've left for our reservation. We won't be stopped for a second from this door to the car, you understand?"

She dips into a dainty curtsey with the tails of her bow and stays there until after the door closes behind him.

As he strolls to Valentino's room he notes everything had been arranged exactly how he'd specified, from the scent of the candles to only the most vibrant and perfect of rose petals making a path on the floor. Now as long as everyone could manage to be just as competent for the rest of the night there wouldn't be any problems and heads wouldn't have to roll.

He sees himself in his cameras, giving himself one last check. Velvette had assured him the immaculate white of his suit was made from the same silk as Valentino's outfit and the navy of the undershirt was the perfect compliment to his partner's lilac skin. 'Perfectly paired down to the last detail' she'd said.

He'd make damn sure tonight was exactly that. Perfect.

He only knocks for show, three quick raps before letting himself in with the little box tucked behind his back.

And oh he's glad Valentino didn't let him see before now.

The lights are dimmed and the moth is in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathed in the pink glow of the tower lights as he smokes. It's art, the silhouette of his long long legs outlined by the shimmering, see-through skirt and the way it fans across the floor around his feet. Hands that weren't holding the long cigarette stick were resting on his body, touching himself through the bodice, over the lace garters around his thighs, resting on his hip with fingers dipping just under the hem of his panties.. It's like the cover of one of those erotica novels and he's sure Valentino had staged the visual on purpose- the pose too modeled for it to be candid. Even from across the room, Vox can see the eyeliner rimming his eyes and a red sheen across his lower lip. He couldn't wait to smudge the hell out of them both.

Valentino's red eyes look away from the cityscape below and land on him, a hungry grin spreading until his gold fang glitters in the pink light as he looks Vox appreciatively up and down.

"Evening, Princess." Vox crosses the room, passing the bouquet into one of Valentino's hands, taking the one off his hip as soon as his own is free. "Let me look at you."

The moth sweeps the skirt out, the slit opening up to show the skin of his thighs, "Is it what you imagined?"

"Almost. Just missing one little thing.." He holds Val's knuckles to his mouth as he goes down on one knee, bringing the velvet box out from behind his back and flipping it open with his thumb.

Valentino purrs, pleased and giddy as he looks down at the massive diamond presented to him. "Christ Vox that's a fucking rock."

"I only buy you the best." Vox hums back at him, sliding the ring on with the same reverence as the prince with Cinderella's slipper.

-"S'that what gets you off? Some sweet prince charming bullshit? Put on Cinderella's stiletto and you get to go up under the skirt on your knees? Fucking hell Vox, no wonder you don't get laid down here."

"Oh fuck you, Otis."

"Nah, I'm not on the market. And unless you start earning me some big bucks with that little camera, your ~Princess~ ain't either. He's a whore Vox. My whore. Don't you go forgetting that." -

The static overlay of the memory fills him with a spiteful kind of satisfaction knowing the fat pig was rolling in his second grave because Vox was about to do exactly that.

He catches Val's eyes and lowers his digital mouth to the ring, then the inside of his wrist where the kiss turns to a barely-there lick. Daftly he moves Valentino's newly ringed hand over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, a silent signal 'hold on to me' as he moves the slit of the skirt out of the way to press his mouth just above the lace garters cinched around his thighs. A blue-clawed hand slides up the skin-warm silk of the corset and pushes the moth to lean back against the glass window.

"Come on, Princess, I said I wanted to look. Show me all of it" Vox slips a hand behind the back of one knee and hooks it over his shoulder.

And fuck does Val show him. His upper claws hold onto the free shoulder of Vox's fine suit and arches his back against the window to spread his legs while balancing on one perfect white stiletto to show off the lacey panties. One hand touches himself, guiding Vox's eyes from the little bow in the front, slowly to the strip of silk where it disappears between his cheeks, and back down to the frilly lace of his garters. Vox follows the path back up with his tongue, nibbles hickies into his thighs, and mouths wet over the silk until it clings tight to every outline and swell. He tests the hem over one hip with his teeth, it was so thin he could just bite right through.

Not yet. Tonight. Definitely tonight.

Vox's head buzzed with an incoming call, tongue vibrating in time with the ringing "Goddammit-"

Valentino's hand pushes hard on the back of his monitor, grinding into the vibrations with a pleased chirp. Digital eyebrows tick up as Vox feels the heel thrown around his back dig in, keeping him from pulling his mouth away to answer. Vox looks up the length of the moth's body, seeing expectant red eyes peeking over the fat bouquet of roses he was holding against his chest.

Fuck it, let it ring. Vox's vibrating tongue curls beneath his cock and further back, tracing over the hidden slit of his cunt through the silk, trying to tease the tight little snatch open. There's the slightest give and the first hint of cherry-sweet pheromone laced slick when the call drops. Incoming Call

Dead. Whoever they are they're dead. Dead dead dead dead. Vox shakes his head sharply, dumping the call. Blue claws slide the wet panties to the side, sharp tips stroking oh so soft over feverish skin and spreading him open, finally gets his tongue on that sweet little cunt he's been starving for all day-

Incoming Call

"Oh goddammit- WHAT?" He shouts against Valentino's skin, the pimp's hands holding him in place as the face-time frame pings into the upper corner of Vox's screen.

It's Vox's driver, wringing his chauffeur hat in his hands, pointedly trying not to stare from his perspective of his boss's static tongue lapping - the sounds this close obscene- at the porn overlord's pink-tinged slick. "I'm- I'm sorry, Mr. Vox Sir. The restaurant.."

"Will still be standing when. I'm. Done. You, on the other hand, will be lucky if I don't gift your head as a hood ornament to your replacement." Every stressed word is punctuated by thrusting his fingers hard enough Valentino is making punched-out little noises and the hand braced on the window squeaks against the glass as he arches into the feeling.

Hard-ass looking shark that he was the driver does a pretty good impression of a beaten dog "Sir, please, the restaurant called. Everything is ready, they're worried the food would-"

"They'll make it again." His tongue slides into Val's pussy between his scissoring fingers, driving in deep and pulling back off with a loud swallow. "Call them back and remind them I fucking own them. I own them, I own the restaurant, I own the brimstone under their feet, and the sky over their worthless, empty little heads. They exist only on my goddamn dime and they'll wait for me for as long as I say."

Valentino's mean laugh hisses above them as his prehensile cock slips out of the hem of his panties, dipping into Vox's mouth, trying to tangle up with his tongue as it licks at him. "Querido, he looks like he's going to cry."

"You'd love that wouldn't you?" Vox hums and takes the wriggling cock into his mouth, tangling his tongue with it, making out with it. "You're so mean, my gorgeous princess."

"You know it makes me wet when you lay down the law like that."

"Sir?" The miserable plea from Vox's speakers is ignored and the driver is left hanging on the line, knowing better than to hang up on his boss.

"Yeah? You like it?"

"Mm-hmm. Reminds me why I love to get on my knees for you and call you 'Sir' and won't ever do it for anyone else. Who else could do this to me?" A perfectly manicured claw slides down the edge of Vox's monitor and pulls him back to the dripping mess.

"Say it for me, Princess." Deep static bass vibrates through Vox's tongue as he licks long and slow through that wetness. "Tell me who else could."

"Nobody, Vox." Valentino moans, breathy and low, rocking between thrusting fingers and lapping tongue. "Nobody- oh fuck- nobody can do to me what you do. Never been this wet for anyone else. Never had to fake it, always fuck me the way you know I need it- the way only you can give it to me. Fucking ruined me for any other dick."

"Good." Vox goes down on him rough and starving, cheeking the moth's probing cock and driving into his cunt with his tongue. Licking loud and messy until slick is filling the seams of his screen and dripping off the edge into a growing puddle on the tile floor.

He pulls open the immaculate white slacks, blindly grabbing for a handful of the dress's train and fisting his cock, fucking into the fine fabric. Static crackles around him, shocking and stinging in delicious little kisses of pain over his skin and between Valentino's soaking folds.

"Vox" The flowers fall to the ground and all of Valentino's hands are grabbing at Vox's monitor and shoulders, riding his face hard.

"Cum, baby." Vox commands against Valentino's pussy, tightening his grip around himself until the friction from the dress burns and his cock starts kicking in his fist. "Cum for me. Now."

Candy pink and cherry sweet fill his mouth. A surge of Valentino's pheromones flood through Vox's fans, an instant high that chases the crest of his own orgasm and prolongs it until he thinks maybe he's cum twice.

He lets his tongue linger with unhurried slow drags through the mess they'd made until Valentino is chirping, pulling at his monitor by his antenna. "I'm going to cum again if you don't stop."

Tempting. Very tempting. But he hears traffic through the face-time feed where their driver was doing his very best to look anywhere but the screen, still waiting to take them to their reservation. He puts their clothes back in place, kisses the thigh thrown over his shoulder before setting Valentino's foot back on the ground.

"We're on our way down," Vox says to the driver before dumping the call and standing. He strokes over the skin-warm silk of the bodice before pulling the moth away from the window by his hips. "Are you ready?"

"After you just ruined me?" The moth's long arms drape over the tv demon's shoulders and waist, not sounding angry in the slightest.

Wet panties, hickie-covered thighs, and cum on his dress, Vox takes it all in with self-satisfied pride. "Tonight's all about us, about belonging to each other. I want everyone to see."

Valentino preens " Then let's go. Carry me?"

Vox sweeps him up all long legs and longer train, their ridiculous height difference putting his screen level with the moth's chest. Valentino had a few more visible hickies by the time they got to the car.

.o.

[the-grand-av3]

everyone gets wings for 25 asks

including the kids

except for valentino.

valentino loses his wings for 25 asks

OW

BITCH

Oh! I cam fly :3

man this is so much easier why dont you do this all the time

MY WINGS

Wheeeeee

You can borrow mine

HOW BITCH

Haha. Ground loser.

*Collides into ceiling fan*

[chaoticace2005]

Rules for the Hazbin Hotel, authored by Vaggie:

1. No drugs.

2. No fights.

3. No pranks.

4. No problematic language.

5. No murder (OR TERRITORIAL GENOCIDE WHAT THE FUCK ANGEL)

6. No smuggling in of drugs. Not by sticking them up your ass. Or by hiding them in a pizza box. Or by slingshotting them to the roof. Or getting someone else to. Not at all.

7. No sexual rendezvous with outsiders in the hotel. No SHOWING sexual rendezvous with strangers to people of the hotel either.

8. Make sure the pig/future pets stay in the patron’s room. (This includes eggs!!)

9. No singing Limit singing to once twice per day

10. Stop flirting with the bartender Angel

11. Don’t call Husk “Husker” unless he allows it.

12. No harassing the staff at all. This includes asking who tops.

13. Don’t suggest anything sexual/romantic to Alastor unless you want your head cut off.

14. NO CUTTING OFF PEOPLE’S HEADS

15. NO EATING PEOPLE

16. NO MAKING CHARLIE CRY.

17. Don’t ask me to put my spear “inside you” Angel, what the fuck?

18. Don’t turn the interior of the hotel into a swamp?! Keep it contained in your room if you must!

19. No stabbing staff or residents. No matter how much they look like bugs! (OR IF THEYRE NAME IS ANGEL)

20. Don’t try and stab bugs if they’re within 10 feet of another demon.

21. Don’t call anyone a “bitch” OR TALK ABOUT HOW MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE “VAGINA”

22. Limit Niffty’s access to sharp objects.

23. NO DEALS ALASTOR

24. No drinking. Limit drinking at bar.

25. No mentioning the Stock Market Crash of 1929. For everyone’s benefit.

26. Don’t blow a hole in the wall.

27. Try to keep roast battles OUTSIDE the hotel. (Or stop picking fights?? Please Alastor I swear to God…)

28. No spying on the hotel for outside sources or putting technology that can be used against us.

29. No evil laughing in the middle of the night, what the fuck Alastor?

30. No building weapons/war machines.

31. No eggs! (Fine the eggs can stay.)

32. Someone please keep an eye on Niffty. (And the eggs.)

33. Stop touching people ANGEL.

34. Don’t make other people storm off HUSK.

35. Respect boundaries.

36a. If Angel looks like he’s about to pass out/cry don’t comment. Let him do his thing.

36b. Don’t try to talk to Angel if he’s on the phone with Valentino. Honestly don’t even mention his phone calls with Valentino.

37. Please don’t call Lucifer “Daddy”

38. Don’t turn into a 20 foot tall demon-eating creature unless absolutely necessary.

39. Don’t cause angry loan sharks to show up at the front door.

40. NO EXPLOSIONS!

41. Rule #2, “No fights” can be broken if the person you’re fighting is Valentino. Or Adam.

42. Don’t lie to your girlfriend or hide the fact you were secretly an angel.

43. DONT TALK ABOUT PEOPLE’S TITS (or lack of)

44. KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING A BEDROOM ESPECIALLY IF SOMEONE’S HAVING MAKEUP SEX

45. Don’t give people makeovers while they’re sleeping, ANGEL!

46. Don’t pretend to eat someone’s pet, ALASTOR

47. Don’t die.

48. I never want to hear the words “cum-plete” again.

49. STOP HAVING FIGHTS ACROSS THE BUILDING LUCIFER AND ALASTOR!!

50. If Charlie is passed out on the couch LET HER SLEEP

51. No making bombs in the hotel Cherri!

52. Stop breaking rules and then saying it’s “FOR SIR PENTIOUS!”

53. Angel don’t try to shoot someone if they break spaghetti.

54. Don’t break spaghetti. Or “ruin” Italian food. Whatever the fuck that means. This apparently includes pineapple on pizza.

55. Don’t mention Valentino unless Angel brings him up first.

56. Don’t comment on Angel and Husk’s flirting.

57. Only call Angel “Anthony” if things are serious (or if you’re Husk)

58. Don’t use any of the nicknames Husk and Angel use for each other. This includes but is not limited to: “Whiskers”, “Legs”, “Kitty”, “Webs”, “Tony”, “Love”, and “Baby.”

59. It’s better not to question whatever facts Husk gives about his past.

60. Family dinners at 6 pm unless you can’t make it due to prior obligation. Game nights after on Sundays.

61. No hunting people for sport and NO KNIFE MONOPOLY.

62. Don’t attach knives to a roomba so you can have a “boyfriend” Niffty.

63. Keep Niffty away from Roombas.

64. Alastor, treat people with decency. Really, it’s not that hard.

65. No making giant ducks that breathe fire to chase people around the hotel just because they call you short.

66. Therapy. Everyone.

67. DONT HAVE SEX ON THE BAR WHAT THE FUCK GUYS?!

68. If Valentino enters the property you have permission to stab him.

69. “Hell is forever” is bullshit. You guys aren’t. You can do this.

[muxas-world]

Once again that is his favorite daughter

[janahanooo]

Did I get inspired by the fact that I was all alone on Valentines day? Yes, so have something I made in my misery.

Mc: I live with seven VERY handsome men

Mc: meaning, I should have at least got something from them, BUT NOOoOooo

Mc: so I wasted a night of making chocolate for nothing!

Barbatos: oh Mc... have some more tea

Mc: *sob* Barbs, why does my love life suck?

Barbatos: *he know that the bros made chocolates for Mc but they were too scared to give it to them*

Barbatos: maybe next year my dear

Mc: *sob* yeah, maybe next year...

Diavolo: OH MC! Happy romantic feelings day!

Mc: *sob* Dia, it's called Valentines day

Diavolo: oh, then HAPPY VALENTINOS DAY

Mc: close enough... and thanks Dia.

Diavolo: have some chocolate and rose! Only the best for you!

Mc: ... you know barbs, I actually don't mind that I didn't get anything from them.

Barbatos: ...alright then. Shall I reserve a dinner for the two of you?

Diavolo: OOOOH, yes! I would like that! Mc, what do you think?

Mc: sure<3

Lucifer: where is Diavolo? *has come to give him the finished documents*

Barbatos: on a date

Barbatos: with Mc

Lucifer: ...oh.

Lucifer: *on the phone* Code red Mammon.

Mammon: *on the otherside of the call* on it boss!

Mammon: *yelling to the others* RELISE SATAN!

Satan: *demonic rampage*

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ " i'll never smile again "

The hazbin boys are visibly stressed

Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.

Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer

▢ vox ᯤ

- Offering sexual favours -

Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.

He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.

Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.

Whoopee fucking doo.

"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."

"Here, sir."

"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"

"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.

"You're a little creep, y'know that?"

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"

She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."

His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"

"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.

Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.

"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.

A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"

He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"

His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."

"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"

He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."

She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.

Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."

▢ alastor ⍋

- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -

A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.

There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.

"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.

(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.

"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.

He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.

"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.

"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."

"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.

"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."

"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."

She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"

He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.

"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"

"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"

She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.

Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.

Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."

(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"

"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."

She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."

Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "

Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -

"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"

(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.

He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.

And make his cute rubber duckies.

But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.

She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.

So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.

He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."

She smiled," Hey."

"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"

"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."

He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"

"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.

"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."

(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."

He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.

"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"

"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."

"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."

"Don't I know it~!"

[ohproserpine]

vii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), allusion to death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form

Rocks and twigs dug into your knees as you crawled forward, the jagged edges cutting your skin as you reached Alastor's side. With trembling hands, you cradled his face against your lap.

"Alastor," you called for him, desperately clutching onto his body, trying to pull him back down to Earth and hold him there "Al, Al, please."

"What did I do? What can I do?" More tears dribbled down your cheeks as you looked down at your husband, leaning in to press tender kisses to the apples of his cheeks. You held him as tightly as you could, careful not to cause him any more pain.

"I can figure out a way to help you, I can. I know I can, baby," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. Your gaze remained locked with your husband's lifeless eyes, the world spinning around you as panic tightened its grip on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"Al. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

˚୨୧₊♱

You woke with a startle.

Gasping for breath, your chest heaved with each inhale, the rapid beat of your pulse slamming against your ribcage, the sound hammering in your head. Blinking repeatedly, your vision slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar sight of a ceiling painted with outrageously colorful prints. Faint traces of neon lights filtered through the thin curtains, casting erratic patterns across the room, accompanied by the distant thump of music.

A gentle knocking at the door broke through the haze, accompanied by the muted tones of a familiar voice seeping through the metal barrier.

"Dollface? Are you up?" Vox's voice, though muffled, was unmistakable as it filtered through the door.

Shakily, you pushed yourself up and sat for a while, gathering your composure. The room spun around you, the vibrant colors of the walls and lights blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Eventually, with a deep breath, you pushed yourself into action, moving to open the door.

As you swung it open, Vox stood on the other side, his signature smirk etched onto his features. His mechanical eyes gleamed as they scanned you for any signs of distress or fatigue. And despite your disorientation, you straightened your posture, trying to maintain your usual demeanor in front of him.

"Good morning," Vox greeted smoothly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Of course, he wasn't interrupting anything. It was clear to both of you that you had just rolled out of bed. Your hair tousled in disarray, your sleepwear crumpled and creased, and your bed behind you a mess of twisted sheets and pillows.

Still, you forced a polite smile and shook your head.

"No, not at all," you replied.

"Excellent," Vox grinned, stepping a foot past your doorway. "May I come in?"

Despite the internal alarm bells ringing in your mind, you nodded, moving aside to let him in. As he passed by, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized, like prey under the gaze of a predator before the pounce.

Closing the door, you leaned against it, feeling the cool surface against your back, and turned to face Vox, attempting to hide the unease simmering within.

"What can I help you with?" you asked, keeping your tone steady.

Vox's gaze pierced yours, his mechanical eyes glinting with a hunger that unsettled you.

"I thought of how we could discuss the details of our partnership," he hummed, running his fingers along your dresser. "Over dinner, perhaps?"

The proposal hung in the air, heavy with implications you weren't sure you wanted to explore. Despite your best efforts to hide it, a seething sense of unease bubbled beneath the surface, twisting your features into a grimace.

"Dinner?" The word felt like acid on your tongue as you struggled to maintain your façade, your gaze sharpening into a glare aimed directly at the overlord. "I'm sorry, but… I'm not interested."

Vox's laughter cut through the tense atmosphere, but it sounded forced and hollow.

"I meant a professional meeting, love," he covered up with a wave of his hand, the charm in his voice slightly strained. "Let's go over your contract."

Relieved, you nodded, though beneath, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled.

This could be a chance for you to really have a gauge on your situation. Everything had happened so fast, and you found yourself stumbling in the dark. You knew the Vees were a powerhouse in the entertainment district, their influence stretching far and wide, extending into every corner of hell. They were notorious for their employment methods, for their ability to shape destinies and manipulate lives with the stroke of a pen.

Who knows what was even in your contract?

"Wonderful!" Vox's cheerful interruption jolted you from your thoughts as he extended his arm. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" you spoke slowly, your tone guarded.

"Shall we get to your duties, my dear?" Vox clarified smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his words laden with expectation. "Velvette is waiting."

"Oh—" you jolted. Quickly, you gathered yourself, smoothing down the wrinkles of your robe and adjusting your disheveled hair with clumsy fingers.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you reached out and linked your arm with Vox's. The overlord smirked as he led you out of the room and through the corridors, already launching into conversation about his latest product line.

A part of you found it amusing how similar he was to your husband—both of them chatterboxes who couldn't keep their mouths shut if they tried.

Nodding along to Vox's conversation, you fell into step beside him. As you two walked, it was impossible not to notice the subtle shift in demeanor among the demons and imps, who hastily cleared a path for Vox, some even bowing respectfully as you passed by.

"And here we are!"

Arriving at Velvette's office, you entered cautiously, the tension thick in the air. Models lounged around in various states of undress, their statuesque figures draped in luxurious fabrics. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to suspicion as they observed your every move. Some whispered amongst themselves in hushed tones, casting wary glances in your direction, while others maintained an aloof demeanor, their gazes piercing yet blank.

Velvette stood at the front, her figure partially obscured by the tall curtains behind her. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over you with open scorn.

"Finally! Took ya long enough," Velvette scowled. "Edna, will you please go get her dressed?!"

Edna, a tall and slender imp with delicate horns curved against her head, nodded obediently before gliding over to you. With a gentle tug on your arm, she beckoned you to follow her backstage. You stumbled nervously, clutching your robe as you obeyed.

As you stepped away, Vox chuckled, waving you off with a flourish. You offered a cautious wave back before being enveloped by the heavy fabric of the curtains.

"I know what you're trying," Velvette scoffed as she tapped away on her phone, her perfectly manicured nails, painted in a glossy shade of neon pink, clacking against the screen. Vox turned to her, his expression one of exaggerated innocence.

"Whatever do you mean?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Oh, please don't act as if you weren't sending marionnette over there heart eyes," Velvette accused, her crimson lips forming a thin line of disapproval. "Listen, I don't care what you do with your little girl toy. Just make sure you don't get in the way of my show."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Vox hummed, taking a seat on one of the plush couches.

Velvette turned to him, surprised, her curls bouncing from the abruptness of her movement. "You're staying?"

"Of course. I'm eager to see your dazzling ideas, my dear," Vox replied smoothly, spreading his long legs across the expanse of the couch. "After all, your show is going to be featured on my channels. It's all anyone has been raving about on Voxtagram lately."

"Cut the crap. You just want an excuse to ogle at her," Velvette scoffed.

Vox leaned back against the cushions, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Can you blame me? She's quite the sight to behold."

Before Velvette could snap back, Edna returned, leading you out from behind the curtains. You emerged, feeling somewhat exposed under the scrutinizing gazes of the two overlords.

No surprise, as the main act, you were dressed in one of Velvette's main designs. Black netted stockings hugged your legs as they met the bright red stilettos that adorned your feet. A red corset cinched your waist and emphasized the curve of your hips, accentuating your figure. Below the corset, you wore a dark miniskirt with cream ruffles and lace, its fabric swaying with every step.

You felt abash as you stood in the outfit. In the past, you had been considered a flapper girl with your bold demeanor and penchant for daring fashion choices, but even you couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the lack of modesty of the skirt in this particular outfit. It barely grazed past your crotch, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

"Let's see…" Velvette hummed, completely absorbed in her task as she approached you, Vox long forgotten. With a couple of snaps of her fingers, the clothing and accessories you wore began to shift and change, transforming before your eyes.

Velvette's fingers danced through the air, conjuring delicate lace and cascading ruffles that stuck onto the corset. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a cream fur coat, draping it over your shoulders with a flourish. The colors morphed, the fabrics transformed, until finally, with a satisfied clap of her hands, she took a step back to admire your new look.

"Makeup!"

Suddenly, you yelped as a chair was dragged over, pushing against the back of your knees and causing you to fall right into it. A bunch of imps swarmed around you and they wasted no time in getting to work, dabbing various products onto your face and expertly brushing powder along your cheeks.

Once they were finished, they handed you a mirror, allowing you to inspect their handiwork. Unlike the outfit, the makeup look wasn't as unsettling. Your face was adorned with makeup reminiscent of classic clown makeup, featuring exaggerated lashes, a layer of white face paint, and a bold red lip.

"That's it! That's the one," Velvette grinned, delighted with the makeover. Her grin turned into a smirk as she turned to Vox. "Well, what do you think—Satan!"

Vox's screen began to glitch and buffer, emitting sparks of electricity that charred the couch beneath him. The sudden noise startled some of the models, their eyes widening in alarm as they scrambled to move away from the malfunctioning android.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Velvette shouted.

Vox tried to respond, but all that came out was static.

Concerned, you approached him, the clicking of your heels against the floor echoing.

As you settled beside Vox, there was a momentary pause in the static, and he stared at you with wide eyes, the malfunction seemingly halted by your presence.

Part of you screamed at yourself to leave, to let him handle his problems alone. But another part of you remained, despite everything. Somehow, you still felt a sliver of sympathy for the overlord.

Leaning in closer, you furrowed your brow, the red gloss on your lips catching the studio lights. The corset pushed your chest up, and Vox found his eyes shamelessly drifting.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, your voice laced with genuine worry.

But before Vox could respond, he short-circuited, a burst of sparks and smoke emitting from his malfunctioning screen. You recoiled instinctively, your hand reaching out to shield yourself from any potential danger. With a final surge of electricity, he powered down completely, leaving behind a smoldering heap of metal and wires.

"Is he… okay?"

Velvette waved a dismissive hand. "He's always doing this. Probably overloaded his circuits again."

"Now, can someone please get this thing out of here?!" she commanded, snapping her fingers and tapping her foot impatiently.

As the models and attendants hurried to comply, you were pulled back up to your feet by the overlord. "He'll reboot eventually. Now, let's get back to work."

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Vox, you followed after Velvette as she led the way to a photo studio within the boutique.

The scene before you was akin to a circus, with vibrant hues of bright reds and pinks resembling a Valentine's Day massacre. A carousel in the background spun slowly, its eerie music echoing through the studio. Beating hearts hung suspended from the ceiling, their rhythmic pulses visible as they dripped with blood.

"Alright! Let's get the rehearsal started!" Velvette shouted out as she began to direct the crew. Cameras were adjusted, lights were fine-tuned, and the set was re-arranged to her satisfaction.

Turning to you with a tablet in hand, Velvette tossed it into your hands. You caught the device and quickly read through the document on the screen, realizing it was lyrics to a song. Your eyes rushed to memorize the words, the familiarity of the process washing over you.

Decades in the show industry had honed your skills to perfection, making this routine feel like second nature. A small pang of nostalgia tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of simpler times before everything went amiss.

“Alright.”

Barely giving you ten minutes to prepare, Velvette deftly plucked the tablet from your hands as she stepped back and settled into a director's chair. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she made herself comfortable, slipping on heart-shaped glasses that glinted in the studio lights.

"Let's see what you've got.”

Lifting the scepter to your lips, you pressed it against your mouth, leaving a trace of red lipstick staining the surface, a stark contrast against the sleek metal. As the lights dimmed, signaling the start of your performance, you took a deep breath and began to recite the lyrics.

I write poems to burn by firelight Drink champagne and guzzle gin Good girls call me "the town bicycle" Don't knock it 'til you've tried my life of sin

With a flick of your hand, you pushed back the curls of your hair, the strands catching the studio lights as you kept your gaze glued to the camera lens. From her chair, Velvette smirked and captured the moment with her phone, the flash briefly blinding the dimly lit set.

Oh, my pimp, knows never mess with me Last prick did that faded quick to black I have no idea where to find him, officers But if you do, please mention that I'd Like to have returned the pretty knife That I stuck ten times in his back—

Before you could even finish, the door burst open with a deafening bang, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. Valentino stormed into the boutique, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. Without uttering a single word, he launched into a violent rampage, his movements wild and unpredictable.

The air was filled with the sound of crashing props and the desperate, panicked screams of assistants as they scrambled to evade Valentino's wrath. You jerked back instinctively as an arm was thrown in your direction, narrowly avoiding the chaotic fray unfolding around you.

"Damn it, Valentino! What are you doing?!" Velvette shouted over the commotion, her voice strained with anger and disbelief as she dug her fingers into her hair, her perfectly styled locks now in disarray.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the moth demon screamed back, his voice seething with rage as he held poor Edna by her throat, his grip like a vice around her delicate neck.

"I'm airing out my frustrations!" he spat, his eyes wild with fury.

A sickening tearing sound filled the room as Valentino viciously tore Edna apart, blood splattering across the floor and staining the nearby racks of clothing.

"Fuck!" Velvette cursed under her breath. Fumbling, she retrieved her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen in agitation as she dialed Vox's number.

"My dear," the businessman's smooth voice echoed through the speakers, a calming presence amidst the storm. "What can I do for you?"

"Cut the shit. Are you functioning now?" Velvette's words were clipped, forceful, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Functioning?" The overlord's response was hesitant, his movements jerky as he twisted his head, the wires on his neck audibly cracking with a spark. "I… suppose so."

"Good, because I need you up here now!" Velvette's voice crackled with urgency. "Mothboy is wrecking my department! And I'm waiting for a certain flat-faced prince to come and help!"

Without another word, Vox nodded with a weary groan, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon him like an oppressive cloak.

"Just another fuckin' day with Val," he scoffed bitterly, his tone tinged with resignation as he pushed himself to his feet with a mechanical whir. "Fuck my life."

In an instant, he transformed into a crackling spark of electricity, zipping up into the CCTV camera before seamlessly teleporting into another one located in Velvette's studio.

"What's going on?" Vox sighed wearily as he materialized, his voice tinged with exhaustion, hands folding behind his back as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.

"Valentino's lost it again. And he's tearing everything apart," Velvette hissed as her hand shot up, grabbing Vox by the collar of his metallic frame.

Her nails dug into the surface, leaving faint marks as she pulled him down to her eye level. "You need to stop him before he causes any more damage!"

"Consider it done," Vox muttered, rolling his eyes before moving toward Valentino. With a firm grip, he halted the demon mid-carnage, spinning Valentino around to face him. An unsettling grin stretched across Vox's metallic features as he locked eyes with the enraged demon.

"Val! What's got you out of sorts today?"

“That piece of shit! Can you believe what he did?” Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with venom as he flung a small imp across the room, the helpless girl crashing into a clothing rack. “The ungrateful whore!”

"Uh huh, which whore are we talking about now?” Vox spoke nonchalantly as he pulled his phone out and idly scrolled through it. Before he could react, Valentino lunged forward, his claws snatching the device from Vox's grasp.

"Who else would I be talking about?!" Valentino spat, his grip tightening around the phone until it crushed in his hands. With a primal scream, he hurled the remains of the tech against a nearby wall, the impact causing the column to crack under the force of the blow.

You watched with a frown as Vox attempted to calm Valentino, but his efforts fell short against the demon's relentless anger. Despite Vox's attempts, Valentino continued to rage, his voice echoing through the room as he screamed about hotels, phone calls, and among other things you didn't bother picking up.

“Fuck. Alright, he's not calming down anytime soon,” Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned to you and motioned for you to follow as she began storming out. “Come on."

Quickly, you nodded, falling into step behind Velvette as she navigated through the gory scene. Blood stained the bottom of your heels as you stepped past limbs and puddles of blood, bones cracked underfoot, and muscles squished beneath your weight. The overpowering scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear.

The overlord guided you out of the room and towards the other side of the building, where a door adorned with your name on a golden plaque awaited.

"This is your dressing room. We'll have another shoot in a few hours, so get yourself prepped in here while I go take care of the piss baby," Velvette scowled, already busying herself with her phone again.

"Will do," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, grateful for the moment of rest.

"Good. I'll see you then," Velvette declared with dramatic flair, her vibrant curls swirling around her face as she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving a trail of her perfume lingering in the air.

As you were about to step into your dressing room, the door beside you suddenly swung open with a creak, revealing a slice of the pink-filled bedroom beyond. To your surprise, you were met with the familiar sight of a fluff of white hair. An accented voice filled the air, screaming into a phone, the sound echoing down the corridor.

"I told ya, I didn't mean to—," The demon turned to you and froze, his eyes widening as he dropped his cigar in shock. The carpet beneath your feet caught fire from the dropped cigar, but neither of you seemed to care.

He stared at you, wide-eyed.

Hands flying up to your mouth, you stared back.

For a minute, all you could hear was the muted sounds of Valentino's screaming from the phone speaker and the building's hustle and bustle

"Dollface?" Angel Dust finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked dumbfounded. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Your heart dropped like a heavy stone, sinking into the depths of your chest. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stood there.

Everything was becoming too much to even process. Your body betrayed you as you lost your balance, collapsing and hitting the floor. A high-pitched ringing pierced your ears, drowning out all other sounds, as warmth seeped from them.

"Aw, shit," Angel Dust hissed in panic. Without hesitation, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, dragging you into his room, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Ending the call, he tossed his phone away and guided you to a plush couch, the fabric soft and inviting beneath your touch as you sank into its embrace. Angel Dust settled beside you, his presence comforting like a warm blanket on a cold night. He offered you a sympathetic smile, though slightly awkward, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, his words a gentle caress to your troubled soul.

Opening his arms wide, Angel offered you a hug, and you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as he enveloped you in a comforting hug. Slowly, your senses came together as you nestled against him, the gentle rhythm of his breathing calming the storm of emotions raging within you.

"It's gonna be alright," he whispered softly, his voice a comforting murmur. Moving closer, he wiped away the warm liquid seeping from your ears. You could faintly see his hands moving away, stained with red. "You alright? What happened, mama?"

"A lot," you sighed, raising a hand to massage your temple as you recounted the events of the past 24 hours, from Mimzy's lounge getting busted down to your soul exchange with Vox.

Angel listened intently as you recounted the events, his expression shifting from concern to disbelief as he processed the gravity of what you had experienced.

"Damn, you've been through hell twice. You're one tough cookie, mama," Angel said with a warm smile as he reached for a brush on his vanity and gently ran it through your messed-up hair.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, a hint of laughter escaped you.

"You could say that," you sniffed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you let out a long-held sigh. "It's been a while since I've been able to let it all out like this. Most demons aren't exactly the nicest."

Angel Dust chuckled with a shrug, his hands gentle as he worked through the knots in your hair. "Yeah, I've… ah, been tryn'a to stay 'good' for a while now. Charlie's been real pushy with the redemption thing, and I thought, what the hell, why not?"

Suddenly, he paused his brushing and gawked at you, his eyes widening in realization. "Charlie! The hotel!"

Your heart skipped a beat as Angel Dust's words sank in. "The hotel," you echoed, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place in your mind.

"Shit!" Angel laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, there ya go! I get off shift tonight, and I sure as hell can get my ass over there. Hell, I can leave right this instant if you want!"

"Won't Valentino be pissed?" you asked, a flicker of concern crossing your features. "You'll be—" Your gaze darted over to his discarded phone on the floor, which was buzzing with calls. "Well, already are in deep shit."

Angel Dust frowned, his expression hardening with resolve. He grabbed your coat and swiftly removed it, tossing it aside to cover the buzzing phone. "Fuck 'im. He can bark all he wants in the studio, but outside of it, he's got no power over me."

The spider leaned in, his touch as gentle as a soft breeze against your skin, his fingers delicate as they brushed a stray hair from your face. "I'll help you. So don't get your pretty little tits in a twist anymore, alright?"

With a heavy heart, you whispered your gratitude, bowing your head as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. Today had been bleak, but a glimmer of hope lingered for a brighter tomorrow.

"But I don't want to get you in trouble, Angel," you said softly, wiping away your tears, exhaustion washing over you. "I can wait until tonight."

Angel Dust's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Nah, babe, ain't no trouble for me. Besides, waiting ain't my style, and I ain't about to let you deal with this mess alone."

"Plus," Angel grinned devilishly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, the corners of his lips curling up. "I know your man is going to tear shit down. And I want front row seats to all that drama."

˚୨୧₊♱

"NO!"

Charlie shrieked, her voice piercing the air as she lunged forward, her fingers grasping desperately at Alastor's piece on the gameboard. "Al! You can't just do whatever you want! You have to follow the rules!"

Alastor leaned back in his chair, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he regarded Charlie with amusement. "But my dear, where's the entertainment in that?" he purred as he tilted his head in mock innocence. "Rules are made to be broken, after all. So, I had a little fun with it."

"A little fun?" Vaggie scoffed from her spot on the floor, her brows furrowed in frustration as she idly shuffled the cards.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, dickhead," she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. "That's what you've been doing these past 2 hours. If you don't start playing properly, might as well not play. I mean—why did you even bother?"

"For the entertainment!" Alastor cheered, his grin widening as he rolled the dice once the turn landed on him again. With a flourish of his claws, he moved his piece three spaces, landing on an unclaimed building which he quickly purchased. "I came here because I love seeing you wayward souls struggle to accomplish something great, and fail spectacularly!"

Vaggie scoffed and rolled the dice, her hand deftly moving the piece along the board with a flick of her wrist. However, her expression soured noticeably when the piece landed on the Jail panel. She seethed and sank back, silently cursing her streak of horrible luck.

"Ah, like you are doing now!" Alastor smirked down at her like the asshole he was, punctuating his words with a clap of his hand. "Good job!"

Vaggie clenched her jaw tightly, her knuckles whitening as she lifted the board, readying herself to strike Alastor. However, before she could make her move, the door burst open, and Angel Dust rushed in with a gasp. He looked every bit disheveled, as if he had just run through all nine circles of hell.

Charlie's eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she lifted her hand, waving him over excitedly.

"Angel! Perfect timing. We need one more player for Monopurgatory," she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards the game board. With a gleeful expression, she plucked a piece from the board and held up a small metal figurine with a wide smile. "You can be the cupcake~!"

"Sorry, princess, I've got business," Angel huffed, brushing his hair back as he turned to Alastor. "Alright, freaks. We need to talk."

Alastor hummed, studying Angel with mild amusement. "My, my, such urgency," he remarked, his smile widening into a grin. "What's got you in such a hurry?"

"It's about Vox," Angel replied, pressing his hands flat against each other. "I need to speak with you in private."

Alastor's grin faded slightly, and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing at Angel. Well, this was certainly getting very entertaining.

After a moment of contemplation, Alastor shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had briefly fallen into.

"Vox, you say?" Alastor mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. With a nonchalant shrug, he pushed himself up, twirling his cane in the air. "Oh, well, in that case, let's chat."

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor moved forward and gestured towards the door, indicating for Angel to follow him. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged puzzled glances, but they remained silent, watching as both men left the room.

"You know, I'd usually never even think of entertaining you, and I'd rather let you deal with your own issues. But you seem to be in a great deal of suffering!” Alastor laughed heartily as he shut the door.

"So, pray tell, what happened? Did you get yourself entangled in another deal from a whim decision? My! I certainly hope you don't bring any of this into the hotel. What will the papers say?"

Angel rolled his eyes and cut Alastor's rambling short, jabbing a gloved finger into the Radio Demon's chest. "It ain't about me. And you're gonna want to listen because it's your missus that's in deep shit right now."

Alastor's eye twitched at the mention of you, a brief flicker of static and symbols dancing in the air. His crimson eyes bore into Angel Dust, his expression unreadable, save for the wide curl of his lips.

Inwardly, Angel smirked. If he didn't have Alastor's attention before, he sure as fuck had it now.

"What does my wife have to do with this?" Alastor quipped sharply, his claws delicately removing Angel Dust's finger from his chest. "I fail to see the connection. Do enlighten me."

"Wanna be enlightened?" Angel waved him over, "Then follow me."

Without waiting for a response, Angel turned on his heels and strode out of the hotel. Alastor followed closely behind, his red-clad figure cutting through the streets of hell like fire against the night.

A few streets later, they approached the border edge of the entertainment district, and Alastor halted abruptly, his gaze narrowing in suspicion.

"I don't particularly fancy this area, and I'd rather not enter," he scoffed, adjusting his coat and brushing away dust from his sleeves with a disdainful flick. "It's rather unsavory."

"Just look," Angel rolled his eyes, gesturing upwards towards the towering Vee tower, where a new advertisement had just been erected.

Alastor's gaze shifted upward, and he froze as he beheld your face plastered across the billboard, larger than life, dominating the skyline of the entertainment district. The vibrant colors of the advertisement clashed with the dark hues of the surrounding buildings, drawing attention like a beacon in the night. Beneath the image, in bold letters, was a sign that read: "Sponsored by VoxTek," stark against the backdrop of your image.

There was silence for a minute, then another, before a sharp crack split the air.

"Angel?" Alastor's chipper voice rang out as he stared up at the billboard with a manic grin. Crackling began to be heard as his limbs lengthened, each movement accompanied by the sound of bones shifting and sinewy muscles stretching beneath his ashen flesh.

"Would you be so kind as to…" His antlers began to grow in size, curling and twisting like the branches of a gnarled tree.

"—explain…" His eyes darkened, the whites turning to a deep, swirling black, while the pupils glowed with a golden light, resembling the flickering dials of an old radio.

"—what exactly am I looking at right now?" His hands elongated into grotesque claws, the fingers stretching and sharpening into razor-sharp blades capable of ripping flesh—or in this case, wires—with ease. As his claws extended, they stretched his glove to its limit until it tore right off, revealing the glint of his wedding ring.

"Vox got her soul," Angel replied immediately, his voice steady despite the horrifying sight in front of him. "Screens has her wrapped around his finger, and he's not planning to let go anytime soon."

Alastor's head snapped to the side with a sickening crack accompanying the movement.

"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.

Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.

"Get in there, and see for ya'self."

˚୨୧₊♱