#cw dosing

[my-dark-lord]

For Hc requests was wondering if you would do PolyVees but Vox and Valentino doing stuff to make sure people don’t fuck with their girlfriend when she first arrived in hell and was still getting the hang of things?

Headcanon Requests OPEN

Of course, Nonny! I love doing polyvees stuff!

---

When Velvette first arrived in Hell, she fell literally right in front of Vox and Val as they were out on a walk. Valentino picked her up almost instantly and they took her home. He helped give her her name, alongside Vox, who decided she needed a V, too.

While she was making a name for herself, Vox would boost all of her social media posts. If someone gave her shit, he and Val both would troll them. Vox has doxxed people and got them fired, and Val has shot people for less.

Valentino had a habit of taking Vel to his clubs and things, and he definitely didn't let anyone fuck with her. She got drugged one time and he put so many bullets in the guy that he emptied Moneyshot's chambers four times.

If Velvette is bought a drink while they are out, Valentino always tries it first to make sure it isn't drugged. If it is, he makes a big deal out of it and then kills the person later.

Vox lets her dress him up sometimes and he has fried people and detonated their phones for making fun of either of them.

They bonded almost instantly and Vox and Val both don't take kindly to people assuming Velvette isn't powerful enough to be an Overlord on her own. They have let her demonstrate her own cruelty on quite a few people they captured for her to do as much to. They live stream it and Vox puts it on every screen in the Pentagram.

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

“Though I haven’t slept in two days" Terrance to whoever's up

I Couldn't Find The Meme This Was From Oops

[ Terrance ]

[ Firkle ]

"Two days, huh?"

Pursing his purple-stained lips, Firkle rested his chin in his palms, his elbows resting on his knees. Sitting on the table part of the picnic table at the park, he considered the other for a long moment.

"Are you meaning to or can you just not sleep? I heard you have that kid with the baby living with you. If they keep you awake you could always get some whiskey for the kid."

Okay, maybe it was bad advice.

"Or spike their juice with Nyquil."

Worse advice, probably.

[coulsonlives]

This has been a reminder

[e-m-p-error]

'Yesssss mine," Valentino couldn't help giggling, because it really was a silly notion. His silly little deer, not noticing his claim like this? It really wasn't something he'd done for it to be ignored. He'd just have to keep pushing, he guessed.

"Nuh-uh," He added quickly, one large hand coming up to cup the back of Alastor's head. With more force that necessary, he smashed their faces together, uttering a soft, distant cry of pain. Okay, that had kinda sucked, actually.

Shifting to let his head fall back, he moved his hand around to Alastor's face to push him back a little more. His hand fell finally, laying limp on the floor of the limousine for a moment.

Now, there's been something he'd wanted to do... Wanted... To...

Velvette? Yes! ...no. No, not Velvette. He'd fucked up on that. She wouldn't pick up the phone for him right now, not until she'd decided he'd suffered enough. And suffer he did, too.

It was half why he was in this position.

"Mnn... I don't know where my phone is." He'd have to ask Vox about it later. At least his password was frustratingly forgettable. If someone had his phone there would be no getting into it, "Didja.... Didja hafta be like that?"

~The Verse Split~

{ Continued from this-------}

He has been staying with Cal for a few weeks now and he had started to feel claustrophobic at no fault of his twin of course! but he was used to always being on the move never one for staying in one place for more then a few days never mind how much pain he was in at any given time, It felt good to take a walk and he had enjoyed eating and ripping apart a fox demon that had been harassing a young lady. Though he was still is in slight pain Alastor felt more like himself the last few days and had been eager to hunt instead of relying on his alts for food.

The sudden smell of sex, drugs and Valentino filled his nose and his face drain of color but he forced his body not to tense as he continued his walk like everything was normal while he waited for the Moth to get closer, The sound of heels faintly clicking against the pavement that weren’t his own started to fall into step behind him….. closer…. closer…. there!

Alastor suddenly spin with a jumping roundhouse kick right into Valentino’s ribs with his hardened steel heel with all of his returned strength more graceful then any pole dancer ever dream to be and immediate let the rage of being violated earlier in the week take over with a hard violent punch with his spiked gloves straight into the taller demon’s stomach. “I believe I promised you that I’d rip out your heart filth!….. lets get started shall we~”

[brandwhorestarscream]

part 2 of D-16 carrying Sentinel’s sparkling please?

Your wish is my command, anon! I had a lotta people asking for this, so many messages! Ya'll are so sweet, I really appreciate it, so thanks for that! Let's get right into it ^-^ part 1 is here, part 3 here, part 4 here!

Orion is at his side in an instant, yelping, "Dee, no! Stop, you'll hurt yourself!" As he forcibly grabs his friend's servos to stop him from tearing himself apart. D-16 shrieks a wordless noise of agony, and then collapses forward onto Orion to begin sobbing violently into his shoulder. Clutching onto him like a lifeline, wailing with all the devastated force he can. Bawling against Orion and falling to pieces, brokenly asking what he's going to do. 

Orion numbly wraps his arms around Dee, letting his chin fall onto his shoulder. His arms slowly tighten, til he’s clinging with near-denting force, and his optics begin to sting with tears too. It hits him later than it did D-16, what exactly Sentinel did to them. That he intentionally got them drunk and lied to them, he lied, lied, lied about them being special and lied about caring for them, all so he could make them pop their panels. It sinks in, slowly, exactly what he took from them: he robbed them of their first time, something that should’ve been one of the tenderest, loving moments of their lives. He used them and threw them away just because he could. He ravaged their bodies selfishly, under false pretenses, without a care for how it would effect them. He touched their sparks. He raped them, both of them, and a sob suddenly flies past Orion’s lips. It hits him all at once, with a feeling like a train has just plowed into his chassis full-force, and all he can do is cling onto D-16 and wail. They cry together, desperately holding onto each other there on the cavern, weeping with all the force of their broken, disgusted sparks.

Alpha Trion stands vigil over them, observing in sorrow, letting them mourn and grieve all that they’ve lost. His spark aches for them. Poor, poor children… they’re so young. Too young to be forced to weather something like this, such an egregious sin… he watches Elita approach them with a haunted look on her face, B-127 wandering closer in her shadow, and she reaches a trembling servo to gently rest on Orion’s shoulder. He grabs onto her wrist like a lifeline, face angling up to look at her lost and broken, optics shattered and expression void of all hope. She bows her helm, mouth pressed into a thin line and lips trembling. Struggling not to cry for them. B-127 creeps closer and, after hesitating for a moment, pads forward to glom onto D-16’s arm. He’s silent as the bigger mech cries, patting at his arm and trying desperately to think of something he can do. But there’s nothing, not really, nothing in the universe could ever soothe a pain like this.

They cry until they can’t shed any more tears, til their bodies have completely exhausted their optical cleanser and lubricant stores, and they’re left dry sobbing and shuddering in exhaustion, slumping against one another and barely upright. It hurts. It hurts. Everything hurts.

“...little one,” Alpha Trion gently addresses D-16 at last, stepping forward and flicking the last of his tears off his face. “I cannot undo what has been done to you, but I can offer to relieve one of your burdens.”

D-16 sniffles miserably, still huddled close to Orion where they’re now sitting side by side on the floor. Orion is cross-legged, face in his servos, with Dee snuggled close against his side, his helm cradled on the blue mech’s shoulder. “Wh…” his voice creaks like a rusty hinge. “What do you…?”

Alpha Trion steps back and raises his palms to the sky, optics closing and exhaling a great puff of air. “ONYX!” his deep voice echoes through the cavern like a clap of thunder. “Onyx, my brother, I beseech you. Speak to this child in my place!”

A warm wind blows in from nowhere, with such force it disturbs the magnetic sand all around them. It begins to swirl, lifting from the ground and into the air to form a funnel, billions of grains chasing one another around and around and forming a curtain around Alpha Trion’s body. They cluster around and seem to consume him, rushing over his plating and molding to his form like a second coat of paint. His helm drops back so his face is parallel to the ceiling, then he gasps as his optics fly open. No longer blue, but a warm, crackling orange-and-pink, like a freshly lit hearth.

He stumbles forward, unsteady on his pedes, taking to one knee and his left palm touching the floor as he stabilizes. “Oh…” when he speaks, it is not Alpha Trion’s voice. He’s… a bit higher pitched. Warmer. Even gentler. “Mother… mercy…”

He shakes his helm and the sand stubbornly clings, before at last he raises his face, zeroing in on the frightened, confused quartet.

“Oh…” he straightens up, optics drifting from each of their faces before focusing wholly on D-16. His expression slips from bafflement to a sort of pained compassion. Not quite pity, but if the way his mouth turns down and his optics narrow with sorrow are any indication, his spark aches for them. “Oh, dear…”

“D-Did he say-” B-127’s optics are impossibly wide, and he’s frozen on the spot, unable to move his pedes. “O-Onyx Prime-?”

“Indeed,” he nods in affirmation, straightening up. Though he remains in Alpha Trion’s body, the sand constructs his visage, shaping around the crests of his helm and fanning out on his back to take the form of his wings. Wings that were missing from his corpse. “Though I wish our meeting was under less dire circumstances, children.”

“Y- You’re-” Elita is starting to frown, inching in front of her group with one arm out. “You’re… th-the god of death-” Oh, Primus. Is he here to reap their sparks? Has Alpha Trion channeled him here to take them away?!

“Do not fear, little one. Peace,” Onyx holds up one servo, and his optics glimmer with warmth. He smiles, gently, hoping to put them at ease. “I mean you no harm. I shepherd over the dead, those who have already passed on. I help them find their way home to Primus, and assist them in seeking rebirth, but I am not here to be your reaper. Please… do not be afraid.”

He approaches them and kneels down just before D-16, looking deep into his optics. “Brother Alpha has called me here to speak to you, child.”

“M-” Dee is clinging tight to Orion, spark pulsing in fear. This- This is death incarnate! They said his hands could bleed a spark from it’s frame with a single touch! They said he lorded over the afterlife and knew everyone’s date and time of death to the millisecond. Having him here, specifically to speak to him, made his throat threaten to close in panic. “Me?”

“Yes,” Onyx Prime’s servo gently touches his helm and he yelps, they all do, flinching away. But after several seconds he realizes, wait… he can still feel everything. He can still feel Orion beside him, can still feel the warm gush of his vents. Actually… he feels better. Physically, anyway: his frame is already beginning to lower it’s heightened temperature back into the green zone, the insistent, horrible pain in his tanks is abating. His optics peak open, and finds Onyx still there, smiling kindly at him. “Please… you needn’t be afraid. I swear to you, upon my graves, I shall not harm you.”

“Wh…” Elita gulps. “Why are you…?”

His optics drift lower, to D-16’s chassis and abdomen. His expression saddens. “You've been forced to endure something terrible… oh, you poor, poor thing…”

The Prime pulls his servo away from Dee’s helm, though not before giving him an affectionate pat. “Listen to me, little one. You are young, you are hurt, and the journey ahead will be very difficult regardless of the path you take. Forcing you to bear this sparkling forced upon you would be a great cruelty if it is not your choice to do so. If you would like, I will take them and return to the Allspark.”

D-16’s spark slams to a stop in his chest. He stiffens, and Orion sits up straighter beside him. Elita’s mouth falls open.

“Wh… What are you…”

“It won’t cause you nor them any pain. They will be safe, and you shall not be punished for it,” he nods down at him. “I know this one, as I know all of them. They are a good spark, they will not resent you if you don’t wish to birth them. They will love you just the same, just as I will, and just as Primus will. The choice is entirely yours, little one.”

Dee’s audials start to ring, and he presses both palms to his chassis. It’s warm, overly warm as it has been the last several decacycles, and before he’d thought it was the heat of fever, but now he knows it is because he hosts an infant soul anchored to his.

He feels frozen in place. He- he could… Onyx Prime would…?

He sobs again and covers his mouth, bowing his helm. “I- I don’t-” he chokes. “I d-don’t know! I don’t know, I- I dunno, I-”

Does he want this sparkling? Does he? He doesn’t know! When Alpha Trion had announced his state, he’d been so happy. Over the moon in fact, beaming with pride and so excited to share the news. They were living proof of his and Orion’s tryst with Sentinel, proof that they were loved and important, and they were so indescribably precious. Now, though… now, they’re… they’re…

Primus, he doesn’t know what they are! He wants to curse them, wants to rip them from his spark chamber and toss them away so there’s no evidence of what that monstrous false Prime had done to him. He doesn’t want to remember, doesn’t want a constant, hideous reminder of the worst thing to ever happen to him.

But… the part of him that was previously excited wars with the other half of him. He doesn’t know that that’s what this sparkling will be. He’d been so excited, so happy, and now in it’s place there’s sadness and horror, and yet another part of him is so angry and repulsed and… and…!

He sobs again, clawing at his helm. “I DON’T KNOW!” he shouts, grinding his denta. “I don’t know, ok?! I don’t know!” how can he? Everything is such a mess in his helm, emotions at war and raging back and forth, grappling for dominance and all trying to shove the other down. He’s scared. He’s hurt. He’s sparkbroken. This is his first sparkling. Perhaps once he’d dreamed of this day, but pictured it so differently, hand in hand with someone who meant more to him than anything else, both of them with transformation cogs because they were good and hardworking and had been rewarded for their efforts. Perhaps he had dreamt of a home, with- with someone special, and a family with one or even two precious sparklings. It was a dream that was supposed to be achieved far into the future. Now, broken as he is, he worries it never will. Never can. It would be an impossibility, as he is now… if he kept this sparkling, he would have to look at it every day knowing he did not love the sire, and never could. He would have to look upon them as their only parent and know that his dreams of a happy life died long before they were even born.

But… if he lets them go, if he lets the god of the dead pluck them from his chest, he might never be fortunate enough to conceive again. What if this first sparkling is his only sparkling, and in letting them go, he loses his one chance? It’s too soon, it’s too early, and circumstances are dire, but… is he prepared to let them go? Knowing this could very well be his only chance?

D-16 sobs again, and Orion’s arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him close against his chassis. Dee’s face burrows into his neck, whole body shaking as he whimpers again and again that he just doesn’t know!

“...peace, my little one,” Onyx Prime’s voice is rife with sadness and empathy. “You need not make a choice now, or even today. I… I apologize for bringing you further distress, but please know,” he places his right servo over his spark in oath. “The Primes are with you. When you make your choice, utter a prayer to me, and I will come to you if you require my aid.”

With a sigh, all of the sand suddenly falls from Alpha Trion’s body with the whisper of countless grains trickling to the floor, and when he blinks his optics become blue once more. “Ah…” he takes note of their distress, and shakes his helm sadly. “Poor children… rest. You are weary. Rest, and I will feed you.” once they’ve eaten and had time to process, he can reveal more to them, but that can wait.

They have suffered enough for one day. 

...

And that's where I'm gonna cut part 2! Poor, poor Dee... this is the worst day of his life, but at least he has Orion to support him. I hope ya'll enjoyed this angst nugget :3 if you want part 3, ya'll know what to do. Abuse the crap out of my ask box lol. Gimme your thoughts or predictions as well, that's always fun

[callaneart]

please, stay by my side

[thesnakesstuff]

Reality Dose

[e-m-p-error]

Whatever they had was one step from teetering in the wrong direction at all times. It was a dizzying tightrope where it didn't matter what Valentino did; he had wings. Angel relied entirely on his benevolence, which turned to violence faster than the blink of an eye some days.

Tonight, all he wanted was to forget.

Angel was here, and he wasn't booze, and he was so pliant when he got that venom in him. Everyone was, to be fair, but Angel Dust? Angel Dust was his favorite. He had been since Valentino had started trying to convince him he was a good man in the early 80's.

Maybe he had been, once upon a time. When he'd been alive, maybe. Before he'd become whatever the Hell kind of nightmare creature pinned Angel to his dressing room door like this. Gathering Angel's upper hands in one of his own, Valentino pinned them up above the spider's head, coming in for another kiss.

Teeth dug into the other's lips as his lower hands moved to pin Angel's other wrists to the door.

"Angie," He growled against the other's mouth, knowing that he'd be too fuzzy to tell him 'no,' now, "I need you to do me a... Favor. Be my date tonight. We got a fuckhead to piss off."

Vox. They had Vox to piss off. Whatever had happened earlier in the day had had Valentino on the warpath all day. Whenever he and Vox fought, it became everyone else's problem as the volatile moth crashed through the studio like a hurricane.

Regardless of Angel's answer, this likely was not going to end well for Angel. Either Valentino would get rough with him for saying 'no,' or Vox would come for him in a jealous rage. It was a real Hobson's choice, wasn't it? Take what you're given or you're shit out of luck. At least Valentino would make some vague attempt at saving him from Vox--if he caught it.

@e-m-p-error asked: Send me a ♥♥♥ for more then a kiss { Angel & Val }

It’s just one of those nights. Hungry. ANGRY.

Fingers digging into Val’s shirt, pushing him away at first but then pulling him in closer as a confusing mix of emotions swirl through him. Isn’t sure if he wants it to stop or not as venom stings his tongue and gums–it’s less of a kiss and almost a fight.

One he’s losing, at that.

Finally coming up for air as Val moves on, teeth sinking into his throat with a need to mark–a need for blood–that tears a whimper from his throat.

Your sentimentality has done it again, Anthony

Gasping and grasping; trying harder to shove the moth away as he feels that familiar feeling rush through him. Magenta hues hazing as he blushes and sighs; fight draining from him like watery pigment from a canvas.

His body is betraying him, reacting eagerly–a well-trained toy.

[dkettchen]

[e-m-p-error]

Valentino and Addiction

Valentino is of a variety of moths found in Hell that has a rather intense psychoactive toxin laced through their bodies. Most often, his is spread through his saliva and other bodily fluids, which he often encourages his partners to swallow.

Due to his size, the amount of toxin that is usually issued is subdued enough that there's only a small chance of having an actual drug trip from just kissing him. Swallowing his saliva or other fluids/meat are what will cause the high. However, this doesn't mean that it doesn't leave people wanting to crawl back to him, even if they don't want to.

He claims that, for the most part, it probably has to do with the number of drugs he's done in his life and death, that these things carried over. It wasn't until Vox decided to test a few theories that he found out what the real culprit was.

Information On His Venom Gland

Valentino and Typhokinesis

Valentino's Venom (Expanded)

[e-m-p-error]

At least Valentino could have his bubblegum shisha without it coming out too cherry-flavored. That had been his gripe with the cherry cola; Too much cherry. He was constantly wallowing in cherry flavor and scent, he wanted something else.

Something else that he could get right here, in Vox's mouth. His tongue tasted crisp, and refreshing, like licking one of those plasma balls. It didn't mean he ever wanted to stop, though.

"She so would," He replied, "But she probably won't."

Scooting a little closer, he finally decided on simply straddling Vox's thighs instead, sitting with his knees pressed into the seam of the cushions behind him.

"You know, it really is amazing," Valentino giggled, leaning in for another kiss, laving his tongue over Vox's lips again, licking his teeth, "How perfect we are for each other. We're not supposed to have lasted this long."

( xx | @e-m-p-error )

vox didn't bother to wave the smoke away from his face.

--- if he were more organic, his pupils would have dilated from the effects. but he wasn't; valentino's venom could only intoxicate him one way. and given the way val was shuffling towards him, he's guessing he's about to get a hit.

he rolls his eyes to the dig about velvette. " she would never. " she would, if she didn't rely on his power to keep her relatively afloat.

he was right about the kiss, and about the venom. it fills him with warmth, and it manages to give a certain weightlessness to his body. he sighs slowly, hands moving to val's hips to hold him. his tongue tingled, almost like static.

" i know, babe. " he tugs valentino closer. " i wouldn't change a thing either now that i found you. "

[dozingdose]

an icepick through the eye

[thedeafprophet]

Getting my covid booster tomorrow [yayyy good thing] and trying not to be overly anxious about being poked again for the first time since my hospital stay

[coriander-candlesticks]

Sometimes your Mental Illness™ is kicking your ass and all you can do is offer the first hot, non-leftover meal you managed to prep in the day at 10:30 pm to Apollo & ask for help getting to *and* getting through your appointment tomorrow and that's okay

[nekoning]

transmasc bingqiu where there's a scarce of T producing plants/mushrooms/whatever airplane would come up with and they go on a quest to obtain more while also comforting each other through the inevitable return of their periods

[kodasea]

Ring down below