#vox jealousy arc?

[randomrandomalright]

I’m bit curious how the ship dynamics of Val x Adam would work… both (heavily hated) sexual antagonists… it would sure as hell be a toxic relationship, both feeding into each others bad actions… yet sinneradam x overlordval sounds interesting.

[legallydistinctloolooland]

i got two throuples i wanna write Literature about

Huskerdustvox i feel like i could write pages fucking PAGES about, i wanna get academically in the weeds of the possible dynamics of these old men + how it will inevitably be vox kinda pathetically clawing at the door of their established relationship

Emichaggie I just want sapphic drama full stop. again, pages + pages

[fr00t-snacc]

Time for an angst prompt; jealousy! Which without context, looks like Vox entering his misogyny arc XD

Vox’s whole aesthetic gives me the greatest reason to bring in my scanlines and television noise and chromatic aberration!

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 3

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: 

a little bit of jealousy~

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

The silence stretched out like caramel.  Alastor seemed to be luxuriating in it. Not giving Vox an inch, when he asked for a mile. 

“Say, could we have a moment?” Vox asked, obviously itching in his skin with awkwardness that Alastor was letting dangle finally deigning to acknowledge Lucifer with a dismissive glance. “I think this needs to be a private conversation.”

Lucifer felt his eyebrows shoot up, unable to mask his indignation.

A low chuckle from Alastor broke the tense silence. “My dear Vox, how forgetful of me. Allow me to introduce Dr. Morningstar,” Alastor gestured gracefully towards Lucifer. “He’s one of our esteemed board members at the university.”

Lucifer watched with grim satisfaction as Vox’s smug expression wavered. 

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry, I,” Vox stammered, clearly caught off-guard. “I didn’t realize—”

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Lucifer murmured, gesturing with his spoon. And trying not to smirk at the sticky situation Vox had gotten himself into. 

“I’m sure whatever you wished to discuss can be said in present company.” Alastor interjected smoothly, though his smile held a hint of steel. “After all, beating around the bush is a coward’s tactic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lucifer hid a laugh in a cough, and reached for his water. Leave it to Alastor to put this presumptuous fool in his place with such effortless charm. The brunette certainly wasn’t one to pussy-foot around what he wanted. 

Vox’s entire brain seemed to be buffering. 

 The young man’s desperation was palpable, oozing from every pore as he fidgeted under Alastor’s steady gaze. 

It was almost pitiful, really. Lucifer’s eyes flicked to Alastor, taking in his companion’s easy, confident smirk.

“Well, Vox?” Alastor prompted, his voice silky smooth. “You seemed so eager to speak with me. Surely you’re not at a loss for words now?”

Vox cleared his throat, casting a nervous glance at Lucifer. “I, uh... it’s just that…”

“Come now,” Alastor leaned forward, his smile sharpening. “If you lack the confidence to speak your mind in front of Dr. Morningstar, perhaps it’s best left unsaid.”

Lucifer couldn’t help but admire Alastor’s masterful handling of the situation. 

He watched Vox squirm, torn between his obvious desire to speak with Alastor and the intimidating presence of a board member.

“Alright, fine,” Vox blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “Alastor, would you be my date to the gala tomorrow night?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, any composure he had went right down the drain. 

He couldn’t believe the audacity of this…this kid.

His gaze darted to Alastor, searching for a reaction.

To his credit, Alastor’s only visible response was a slight raising of his eyebrows. His smile remained fixed, though Lucifer detected a hint of amusement dancing in those hazel eyes.

“My, my,” Alastor drawled, his voice tinged with surprise. “That is quite the…bold proposition.”

As Lucifer watched the exchange, a realization struck him.

 He could see why Vox, and likely many others, viewed Alastor as nothing more than a pretty face to be pursued and conquered. Hell, he’d assumed he was a twink when they first met.

But there was so much more beneath that surface.

 Alastor exuded an aura of power and control that seemed to go unnoticed by anyone not paying enough attention. It was subtle, yes, but unmistakable. 

Lucifer found himself wondering how many people truly understood that Alastor was the one who did the asking out, not the other way around.

“I must say,” Alastor continued, his voice pulling Lucifer from his thoughts, “your boldness is quite refreshing, Vox. Though perhaps a tad misplaced.”

Alastor leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed yet commanding. 

“I’m afraid I must decline your generous offer,” he said, his tone smooth as silk. “As it happens, I’ll be quite occupied during the gala. Hosting duties and a performance, you see. I doubt I’d have time for a proper date.”

Lucifer felt a wave of relief wash over him, though he kept his expression neutral. He watched Vox carefully, curious to see how the man would react to the rejection.

Vox’s eager grin faltered for a moment, his bravado cracking under Alastor’s unwavering gaze. 

“I…I see,” Vox stammered, his voice losing some of its earlier confidence. He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it. “Well, I suppose I should have expected as much. You’ve always been rather…elusive.”

Vox’s demeanor oscillated between wounded pride and desperate persistence. It was like watching a moth repeatedly throwing itself against a bright, unyielding light.

Vox’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the rustic charm of the lodge restaurant. The warm glow of the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the wood-paneled walls, and the scent of pine and cinnamon hung in the air. 

Outside, snow fell gently, blanketing the world in a soft, white silence.

Suddenly, Vox’s expression brightened, as if struck by divine inspiration. 

He leaned forward, his earlier disappointment seemingly forgotten. “You know, Alastor, we’ve been dancing around each other all semester,” he said, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Don’t you think it’s time we stopped playing games?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, glancing at Alastor. Sure, his partner had kept his gala performance a secret. But they did talk. And Alastor had never mentioned any sort of suitor at school.

 Alastor, for his part, remained impassive, his smile fixed in place like a mask.

“I’m not sure I follow, my dear,” Alastor replied smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of warning that Vox seemed oblivious to.

Undeterred, Vox pressed on, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Oh, come on, Al. The lingering glances in the hallway, the way you always manage to be just out of reach….it’s all part of the chase, isn’t it?” He grinned, clearly pleased with his deduction. “Well, I’m tired of chasing. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”

“If we were…dancing around each other as you put it…you’d know it’s Alastor, only my friend calls me Al.” The brunette said, with a smirk as sharp as his steak knife. 

To Lucifer’s surprise, Vox’s eager expression didn’t falter. “C’mon, Al, you and I were meant to be more than friends.” 

Lucifer watched as Alastor’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his espresso cup, the only outward sign of his growing irritation. 

“Is that so?”

 “Of course it is,” Vox exclaimed, leaning forward. “How about I prove it to you over brunch tomorrow? Before the gala?”

Oh, that was pathetic. The dark-haired man was already showing all his cards, and…that he didn’t respect boundaries—something that Alastor was deadly serious about.

“Brunch?” Alastor repeated, his smile widening. “Well, that does sound delightful. I suppose I could spare an hour or two before the preparations begin in earnest.”

Lucifer felt as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He stared at Alastor, utterly stunned. 

Had he just agreed to a date with Vox? After rejecting him so smoothly mere moments ago?

“Oh fuck yes!” Vox beamed, oblivious to Lucifer’s internal turmoil. and his presence entirely. “Eleven o’clock?”

As Alastor nodded his assent, Lucifer found himself gripping his spoon a bit too tightly, his knuckles turning white.

The rest of the noise in the room muffled in the wake the cacophony in his head. 

❄️✨☕✨❄️

Lucifer’s heart pounded in his chest as he ascended the stairs, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and grab Alastor. 

The jealousy coursing through his veins was unlike anything he’d felt before. 

He couldn’t fathom how Alastor could so casually agree to a date with that insufferable ego maniac.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Lucifer muttered, his shoulder brushing against Alastor’s as they climbed the stairs—because the brunette was sticking to the damn healthy crusade like he hadn’t just thrown the older man for a loop. 

Alastor cast a sidelong glance at him, his ever-present smile tinged with amusement.

 “Darling, you aren’t…really concerned about this, are you?”

“Concern? Hardly,” Lucifer scoffed, inching closer to Alastor as they reached the second floor landing. “I just thought you had better taste.”

As they continued up to the third floor, Lucifer found himself practically glued to Alastor’s side. His hand “accidentally” grazed Alastor’s lower back, lingering perhaps a moment too long.

“You seem rather tactile this evening,” Alastor observed, his voice low and tinged with something Lucifer couldn’t quite place.

The blonde swallowed hard, his mind racing.

 Was he being too obvious? Did he even care at this point? 

“Just making sure you don’t lose your footing on these treacherous stairs,” he replied, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat even to his own ears.

The third floor stretched before them, quieter and more secluded than the bustling lobby below.

 Lucifer’s suite awaited at the end of the hall, a sanctuary where he could finally confront Alastor about this unexpected turn of events.

As they entered the spacious rooms, Lucifer’s eyes swept over the luxurious furnishings—the plush leather sofa, the gleaming wood paneling, the crackling fireplace. 

But his attention quickly snapped back to Alastor, who was casually removing his jacket.

Tension swirled around them. Roiling. Writhing. As Lucifer debated how to broach the elephant in the room—Alastor was going on a date. While he was dating Lucifer. 

Yes, Alastor constantly reiterated that he had never been in a relationship before—but surely this was one of those things that didn’t need explaining. It wasn’t like getting the text ‘we need to talk’ when all Alastor was worried about was the laundry. 

Just as Lucifer was wrestling with everything he wanted to say, and worried he’d say too much, the younger man sliced through the thick silence. 

“I must say, darling,” Alastor began, his voice calm and measured, “your behavior this evening has been rather…interesting.” He draped his jacket over a nearby chair, then turned to face Lucifer directly. “Especially considering your insistence on maintaining appearances in public.”

Lucifer felt a flush creep up his neck. 

“What are you saying, Alastor?” he asked, his voice tight.

Alastor’s smile stayed perfectly static. “Simply that I was following your directive. Keeping up appearances, as you put it. That’s precisely what I was doing by accepting Vox’s invitation.”

Lucifer folded his arms across his chest, a defensive posture he knew Alastor would recognize. 

“That’s not—” he began, then caught himself.

 Dammit. Alastor was right, of course. 

Lucifer had stressed the importance of discretion, of acting normally around others. But the thought of Alastor with someone else…even if it was fake. 

He huffed out a breath. “Fine. Yes, I said that. But agreeing to a date? That’s taking it too far, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Alastor raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware there were limits to this charade. Because you did not set them.”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “That doesn’t mean you get to decide to date someone else,” he snapped, immediately regretting the petulant tone in his voice.

Alastor’s eyebrow arched even higher, his smile taking on a dangerous edge. 

“Oh? Are you telling me what to do?” His voice was silky smooth, but there was an undercurrent of steel that made Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat.

Lucifer bit his lip, a shiver of anticipation running down his spine.

 He knew that tone all too well. It was the voice Alastor used when he was about to take control, to pull Lucifer into one of their scenes. 

And Lucifer knew, he had a choice. If he said the right words, he could provoke Alastor, and the younger man would gladly put him in his place. 

Or, Lucifer could be the mature and responsible adult—kill the mood and have a real conversation about expectations in public. 

“Yeah, I am.” Lucifer began, his heart racing. 

Alastor took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Lucifer’s face.

 Well, the conversation could wait until they got it out of their systems. 

Fuck it. 

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” The blonde challenged, his tone dripping with bratty insolence.

In a heartbeat, Alastor closed the distance between them. He seized Lucifer by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

Lucifer’s pulse quickened, a thrill of excitement coursing through him as Alastor’s fingers deftly unfastened the top buttons of his shirt.

“Darling,” Alastor purred, his voice low and dangerous, “you really ought to be careful what you wish for.”

Before Lucifer could respond, Alastor’s teeth sank into the sensitive flesh where his neck met his shoulder. 

A gasp of pleasure escaped Lucifer’s lips, his body arching involuntarily into Alastor’s. The bite was sharp, bordering on painful, but it sent waves of desire flooding through him.

Harder than usual—Alastor’s version of a punishment—that just made Lucifer feel weak in the knees. 

And so terribly, wonderfully, wanted. 

Lucifer tilted his head, offering more of his neck to Alastor’s hungry mouth. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” he breathed, unable to resist pushing further.

Alastor’s eyes glinted dangerously as he pulled back, his fingers still gripping Lucifer’s collar. With a swift motion, he yanked Lucifer’s shirt down, exposing more of his pale skin. 

The brunette was pulling something from his pocket, but before the blonde could look, a hand gripped him roughly by the jaw, pushing his face into the wood paneling. 

“Stay still,” Alastor commanded, his voice carrying an edge that curled arousal in Lucifer’s stomach.

Lucifer felt something cool and wet against his neck—the tip of a pen, he realized. Alastor’s hand held him firmly in place as he began to write, the strokes deliberate and unhurried.

Curiosity burned through Lucifer. What was Alastor writing? He yearned to pull free, to crane his neck, to catch a glimpse in any reflective surface.

Alastor gave a self-satisfied sound and pulled away without a word.

“What did you write?” Lucifer asked, trying to keep his voice casual despite the anticipation thrumming through him.

Alastor’s lips curled into a smirk. “That’s for me to know,” he replied smoothly, capping the pen with a decisive click.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Lucifer gaped. 

“No,” Alastor said, his tone maddeningly calm. “And you’re not allowed to look, either.”

Frustration and arousal commingled furiously inside the older man. 

He knew Alastor was fully aware of how this would affect him—the not knowing, the burning desire to see. 

It was maddening, and Alastor knew exactly what he was doing.

“That’s so mean,” Lucifer muttered, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach up and touch the hidden message.

Alastor chuckled, low and dark. “Perhaps. But we both know how much you enjoy a little meanness, don’t we?”

Lucifer’s hand moved of its own accord, covering the spot on his neck where Alastor had written. 

The skin tingled beneath his palm, as if the ink itself were alive. He swallowed hard, fighting the overwhelming urge to dash to the nearest nearest mirror. 

And there were so many in this damn hotel room.

His gaze flicked to the ornate mirror mounted on the far wall. It beckoned to him, promising answers if he’d only look. 

But Lucifer knew better. He knew Alastor better. Disobeying was fine, until it ruined Alastor’s plans for a scene. Because then, he had all night to make Lucifer pay for throwing of this groove. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Alastor’s voice was silky smooth, tinged with amusement. “About how easy it would be to just…take a peek.”

Lucifer’s breath hitched. “I won’t,” he insisted, though his eyes remained fixed on the mirror.

Alastor stepped closer, his breath hot against Lucifer’s ear. “Good boy. Because if you look…” He paused, letting the tension build. “We won’t be having any fun tonight. No sex, at all.”

A whine escaped Lucifer’s throat before he could stop it. “That’s not fair,” he protested weakly.

“Life rarely is,” Alastor replied with a chuckle. “Now, the question is: how badly do you want to know what I’ve written? Badly enough to forfeit everything else?”

Lucifer bit his lip, torn between curiosity and desire. 

The night stretched before them, full of tantalizing possibilities—if only he could resist the temptation to look.

“Very good,” Alastor’s smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Now, because I am generous. I’m going to offer you some assistance in obeying me.” 

Lucifer’s breath caught. “Please,” he whispered, anticipation toroid in his chest

With deliberate slowness, Alastor reached into his suitcase, withdrawing a long, scarlet ribbon. 

The silk shimmered in the low light, hypnotizing in its simple elegance. 

“Close your eyes,” Alastor commanded softly.

Lucifer obeyed, shivering as the cool fabric slid across his face. Alastor’s deft fingers secured the blindfold, plunging Lucifer into red-tinged darkness. 

The loss of sight heightened his other senses.Alastor’s cinnamon cologne, the whisper of fabric, the heat radiating from his lover’s body.

“Perfect,” Alastor purred. “Now, listen carefully. You are to remain still, to the best of your ability, unless I move you. Understand? Any unauthorized movement, and you’ll face the same punishment as looking. Nod if you agree.”

Lucifer nodded, pulse quickening. 

“Good boy,” Alastor praised. “Let’s begin.”

Lucifer fought to remain motionless as Alastor’s fingers trailed down his chest, deftly unfastening buttons. The cool air hit his exposed skin, raising goosebumps. 

He desperately wanted to lean into the touch, to arch his back, but the threat of punishment kept him frozen.

“I can hear you concentrating, darling,” Alastor murmured, sliding the shirt from Lucifer’s shoulders. “Such an admirable amount of restraint. Even when you’re trying to be insolent.”

Lucifer licked over his bottom lip, seeing if that was allowed, but Alastor just chuckled. 

“You’re allowed to speak.” The younger said, his voice so close to the blonde’s ear, he jumped. “And react to me.” 

Lucifer sighed out relief. He could stay quiet, or he could stay still. He couldn’t do both. 

Alastor was behind him now, the warmth of him tingling along Lucifer’s back as he undid Lucifer’s belt. 

“You know, it’s adorable.” Alastor teased, his chin brushing along Lucifer’s shoulder as he pushed his briefs down his legs. “How desperately you want me to fuck you, no matter how many times I have.” 

“Always want you to fuck me.” Lucifer murmured, feeling the heat of his blush under the blindfold. 

But the satisfied little huff of breath he got from his lover was well worth it. He just wished he could see that almost bashful look on Alastor’s face. 

Lucifer jumped when he heard the pop of a marker cap. 

What would Alastor do next? The uncertainty was maddening, but thrilling. 

He felt vulnerable, exposed, utterly at Alastor’s mercy. And he loved every second of it.

Lucifer tensed as he felt something cool and wet touch his skin. The smell of ink wafted to his nostrils.

“What are you—” he began, but the younger shushed him gently.

“Patience, my dear,” Alastor murmured, his breath warm against Lucifer’s ear. “I’m creating a masterpiece.”

The pen glided across Lucifer’s collarbone, tracing delicate patterns that Lucifer couldn’t even begin to make letters of. 

His breath hitched as Alastor’s hand moved lower, drawing along his sternum and down to his abdomen. 

“You’re trembling,” Alastor observed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Nervous?”

Lucifer swallowed hard. “A little,” he admitted. “I…I can’t see what you’re writing.”

“That would be the point, love,” Alastor chuckled. His free hand caressed Lucifer’s cheek reassuringly. “To trust me.”

The pen traveled to Lucifer’s side, tickling slightly as it moved. Then, to his horror and excitement, Alastor’s hand drifted lower, to the soft flesh of Lucifer’s hips and thighs.

“Alastor,” Lucifer whispered, his voice strained. “You know I’m…sensitive about…”

“Shh,” Alastor soothed, his lips brushing Lucifer’s belly button. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

The pen continued its journey, mapping out the curves and dips of Lucifer’s body. Each stroke sent shivers through him, vulnerability and arousal building with every passing moment.

Lucifer gasped as the cool pen traced delicate patterns across his hipbone. 

Alastor’s touch was feather-light yet electrifying, sending tingles radiating outward with each stroke. 

The blonde bit his lip, fighting to remain still as Alastor’s hand drifted lower, skimming along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

“Breathe, darling,” Alastor murmured, his warm breath ghosting over Lucifer’s skin. 

The pen swirled lazy circles down Lucifer’s thigh, occasionally dipping teasingly close to more intimate areas before retreating.

 Lucifer’s breath hitched as Alastor traced the curve of his knee, then continued down his calf. 

The cool ink left goosebumps in its wake.

Just as Lucifer was beginning to relax into the sensations, Alastor’s hand gripped his shoulder firmly. He spun Lucifer around and pushed him face-first onto the plush king-sized bed.

 Lucifer let out a surprised “oof” as he landed on the silky sheets.

“Comfortable?” Alastor asked, amusement evident in his voice.

Before Lucifer could respond, he felt the mattress dip as Alastor knelt beside him. 

The pen returned, this time dancing across the back of Lucifer’s thighs. Lucifer shivered, hyper-aware of every point of contact. 

The strokes became bolder, longer. Lucifer was sure Alastor must be writing full damn sentences now. His mind raced, imagining what filthy phrases might be etched across his skin. 

‘Property of Alastor,’ perhaps?

 Or maybe something even more lewd?

A whimper escaped Lucifer’s lips as Alastor’s hand drifted higher, the pen now gliding over the curve of his ass. 

He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly aroused. 

His hips shifted restlessly against the bed, seeking friction.

“Now, now,” Alastor chided gently, his free hand pressing down on Lucifer’s lower back. “I thought I told you to stay still.”

“Sorry,” Lucifer groaned in frustration but forced himself to remain motionless. 

The pen continued its torturous journey, mapping out every inch of his backside. He could feel Alastor’s gaze burning into him, drinking in the sight of his artwork. 

“You look absolutely divine like this,” Alastor murmured, his voice low and husky. “Marked up and all mine.”

The possessiveness in Alastor’s tone sent a shiver down Lucifer’s spine.

 He ached to see what Alastor had written, to know exactly how he’d been claimed. But the blindfold remained firmly in place, leaving him at the mercy of his imagination and Alastor’s skilled hands.

Lucifer’s breath quickened as Alastor’s touch lingered, the pen’s strokes becoming slower, more deliberate. 

He could feel the heat radiating from Alastor’s body, so close to his own. The blindfold heightened every sensation, making him acutely aware of each brush of Alastor’s fingers against his skin.

“Alastor,” Lucifer whispered, his voice thick with want. “Are you…enjoying this?”

Alastor’s low chuckle sent a shiver over every inch of his marked skin. 

“Oh, very much so,” he purred, his hand now caressing Lucifer’s hip. “You’re exquisite, my dear.”

Lucifer felt a surge of warmth at the praise, his body responding eagerly to Alastor’s touch. He yearned to see what had been written.

“Please,” Lucifer pleaded softly. “Can I look now?”

“Not yet,” Alastor replied, his voice almost sing song with teasing. “I’m not finished appreciating my work.”

Lucifer heard the cap of a bottle being opened, followed by the slick sound of lubricant. His heart raced as he felt Alastor’s fingers, now slick and warm, trace the curve of his ass.

“Wait, Alastor,” Lucifer gasped, “you’re not going to let me see it?”

Alastor’s fingers teased at Lucifer’s entrance as he leaned in close, his lips brushing Lucifer’s ear. “Are you saying you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No!” Lucifer said at once, biting his lip at how damn petulant his tone was. 

“Then, behave.” 

Lucifer shivered at Alastor’s words, his body thrumming with anticipation. 

As Alastor’s fingers worked him open with the ease of confidence and familiarity, Lucifer’s mind drifted, his thoughts a hazy blend of pleasure and contemplation. 

There was one thing he knew about Alastor, something that had become intimately familiar over the course of their relationship: Alastor sometimes required a lot of foreplay. 

They weren’t exactly the type of couple that could have a quickie in a bathroom stall—not that Lucifer minded. He relished the drawn-out anticipation, the slow burn of desire.

But after a scene like this, Alastor was usually sufficiently worked up to enjoy sex and relaxed enough come. The thought sent a thrill through Lucifer. 

He loved knowing he could affect Alastor this way, could break through his composure and bring him satisfaction.

Lucifer gasped as Alastor’s fingers curled inside him, brushing against that spot that made him see stars. 

The sensation was intensified by the darkness of the blindfold, every touch magnified tenfold. The contrast between the drying ink and Alastor’s warm touch was intoxicating.

“You’re doing so well,” Alastor murmured, his voice a low purr. “So beautiful, all marked up for me.”

Lucifer whimpered, overwhelmed by the praise and the sensations coursing through his body. 

He could feel Alastor’s clothed cock pressing against his thigh, hard and insistent, filled Lucifer with a heady mix of pride and hunger.

“Please,” Lucifer whispered, his voice hoarse with need

Alastor’s fingers stilled for a moment, and Lucifer could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Patience, darling. Good things come to those who wait.”

As Alastor resumed his ministrations, adding a third finger and stretching Lucifer further, the blonde found himself lost in a sea of sensation. T

he silk of the blindfold against his face, the cool air on his ink-covered skin, the heat of Alastor’s body so close to his own—it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

Lucifer’s fingers clutched at the sheets, his body quivering with the effort to remain still. 

He knew Alastor was watching him, drinking in every reaction, every shiver, every muffled moan.

 The thought only inflamed him further, knowing how much Alastor enjoyed seeing him like this.

“Alastor,” Lucifer breathed, his voice wobbling slightly. “You seem…more worked up than usual.”

Alastor’s fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their ministrations. 

“You’re not wrong, darling,” he murmured. “This little scene of ours…it’s quite effective. Don’t you agree?”

Lucifer felt a surge of pride at Alastor’s admission. 

He arched his back, pressing against Alastor’s touch. “I’m glad,” he whispered. “Want you…to enjoy this as much as I am.”

Suddenly, Lucifer felt Alastor’s hands on his arms, guiding him upright. “Stand up.” The movement was gentle but firm, leaving no room for resistance. 

“Hands against the wall,” Alastor instructed, his voice gone low with desire.

Lucifer complied, his palms pressing against the smooth surface. 

He felt Alastor’s body heat behind him, the anticipation becoming nearly unbearable as he heard clothing being shed. 

“Ready?” Alastor asked, his hands gripping Lucifer’s hips.

“Fuck, yes,” Lucifer gasped. “Please, Alastor.”

With a low groan, he felt the younger man’s cock finally press past his rim, finally entering him.

 The sensation was overwhelming, and Lucifer let out a strangled moan of pleasure.

 Lucifer’s body quaked with each thrust from Alastor, sending waves of pleasure through him.

 The blindfold heightened every sensation, making him acutely aware of Alastor’s hands gripping his hips, short nails biting into his skin, the heat of his breath on the back of his neck, the slick slide of their bodies coming together.

Lucifer moaned, his fingers scrabbling against the wall for purchase. 

He felt utterly consumed, lost in a haze of ecstasy as Alastor’s cock hit that perfect spot inside him over and over.

The room filled with their sounds—skin against skin, breathless gasps, and low groans of pleasure. 

Lucifer could feel his climax building, a coiling tension in his lower abdomen that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment.

“You’re close already, aren’t you darling?” Alastor purred, his voice strained with his own mounting pleasure. “I can feel you tightening around me.”

Lucifer nodded frantically, beyond words.

 His world had narrowed to the points where their bodies connected, to the exquisite friction of Alastor moving inside him. 

He was teetering on the edge, desperate for release but not wanting this moment to end.

Just as Lucifer felt he could come despite being denied the sight of Alastor fucking him, he felt fingers at the back of his head. 

 Then Alastor pulled the blindfold off.

Lucifer’s eyes flew open, adjusting quickly to the sudden influx of light. He found himself face to face with the ornate mirror on the wall, its gilded frame reflecting their entwined bodies in stark detail.

Lucifer’s gaze darted away, instinct demanding he obey Alastor, and warring with his burning curiosity. 

But in that split second before he averted his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his reflection—flushed skin adorned with intricate script in Alastor’s perfect handwriting.

“Look,” Alastor commanded, his voice a low growl in Lucifer’s ear.

Lucifer’s gaze met his own reflection in the mirror before him. But with a wince, he jerked away. 

“No, darling,” Alastor said, his tone softening slightly. “I want you to see. Look at yourself.”

Lucifer’s heart raced, arousal and trepidation flooding his senses. 

He’d participated in scenes like this before, back in the day, where submissives were marked up and grafitied for everone to see. 

 But those experiences had always been tinged with humiliation, the words scrawled across skin meant to degrade and shame.

“I…I can’t,” Lucifer whined, his voice barely audible.

Alastor’s hand cupped Lucifer’s chin gently, turning his face towards the mirror. “Trust me,” he murmured. “Open your eyes and see what I see.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, steeling himself for what he might find. 

With a shaky breath, he slowly opened his eyes, bracing for the impact of cruel words etched across his skin.

Lucifer’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Instead of the expected derogatory remarks, he found his skin adorned with elegant script, each word a testament to Alastor’s affection. 

‘Beautiful,’ was written across his collarbone in Alastor’s neat handwriting. ‘Gorgeous’ curved along his hip. ‘My favorite part’ traced the line of his thigh.

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like his lungs were freezing. 

 “Al…Alastor I...” he stammered, unable to form coherent thoughts as his eyes roamed over the litany of praise covering his body.

Alastor’s fingers trailed along Lucifer’s side, following the curve of the words. “Every inch of you, my dear,” he murmured, “is exquisite.”

A sob threatened to escape Lucifer’s throat as the weight of Alastor’s words washed over him. 

He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Alastor immediately stilled, his expression shifting to one of concern. “Color?” he asked softly, his hand moving to cup Lucifer’s face.

“I…I’m…” Lucifer struggled to speak, his words coming out in a choked whisper. Overwhelmed by the unexpected tenderness of Alastor’s actions.

Obviously aware of Lucifer’s distress, Alastor began to pull away, to pull out, his movements slow and careful. “It’s alright Lucifer, we can stop—”

Lucifer’s hand shot out, grasping Alastor’s wrist as he stayed bent over in front of the mirror.

 He wanted to reassure him, to explain the storm of emotions coursing through him, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Instead, he found himself staring at their joined hands, gaping at the contrast between Alastor’s steady grip and his own shaking fingers.

“Don’t,” Lucifer managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. “Please don’t.” He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet Alastor’s gaze in the mirror. “Green. It’s just…it’s a lot, but it’s green.”

Alastor nodded, though the concern didn’t leave his eyes. His fingers ghosted along Lucifer’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

Lucifer leaned into the touch, craving the contact, the reassurance.

With a gentle tug, Alastor wound his fingers through Lucifer’s hair, using the grip to tilt his head back slightly.

 “I say these things to you all the time,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between Alastor’s face and their reflection in the mirror. 

“Seeing them is different,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

 He felt raw, exposed in a way that went beyond being undressed. The words on his skin seemed to burn, each adoration searing into his very being.

Alastor’s grip in his hair tightened fractionally, grounding him. Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation, using it to anchor himself amidst the whirlwind.

Alastor’s breath was warm against Lucifer’s ear as he leaned in close. “Are you certain you’re alright?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. “It’s alright to stop.”

“Please,” Lucifer interrupted, his eyes snapping open. He met Alastor’s gaze in the mirror, seeing his own desperate need reflected back at him. “Please fuck me. Please.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed Alastor’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of intense focus.

 He nodded once, repositioning himself behind Lucifer.

Lucifer’s breath hitched as Alastor entered him, the familiar stretch and fullness grounding him in the present moment. He braced his hands against the wall, grateful for its solid support.

As Alastor began to move, Lucifer found himself caught between the physical sensations and the emotional maelstrom within. 

Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure coursing through him, while the words written on his skin seemed to pulse with an energy of their own.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. My favorite.

The intensity built, a crescendo of sensation and emotion. Lucifer felt himself balancing on the knife’s edge of raw need.

When his climax hit, it crashed over him like a tidal wave. 

Lucifer cried out, his voice raw and broken. His body shook with the force of it, tears streaming down his face.

In an instant, Alastor’s arms were around him, pulling him close. Lucifer turned in the embrace, burying his face in Alastor’s chest as gentle kisses rained down on his forehead, his temples, his tear-stained cheeks.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Alastor murmured, one hand cradling the back of Lucifer’s head while the other traced soothing patterns along his spine. “Are you okay, cher?”

Lucifer nodded against Alastor’s chest, not trusting his voice just yet. He focused on steadying his breathing, on the comforting rhythm of Alastor’s heartbeat beneath his ear.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to meet Alastor’s worried gaze. “I’m okay,” Lucifer said softly, offering a watery smile. “That was…intense, but in the best way possible.”

Lucifer took a deep breath, steadying himself. He shifted, acutely aware of Alastor’s still-hard cock trapped between his thighs. 

Gently, he cupped Alastor’s face, searching those mesmerizing eyes.

“Can I take care of you now?” Lucifer asked, his voice a tender whisper. “Please?”

Alastor hesitated, concern etched across his features. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Lucifer silenced him with a soft kiss. “I want to,” he murmured against Alastor’s lips. 

Alastor’s usual easy smile was absent, replaced by a tightness around his eyes that spoke volumes.

“Alastor?” Lucifer murmured, running his fingers through Alastor’s hair. “Talk to me.”

Alastor’s gaze flickered to meet Lucifer’s, then darted away.

 His hands rested limply at his sides, a far cry from their usual confident exploration of Lucifer’s body. 

“I…I pushed too far,” Alastor finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “I upset you. I never meant to—”

Lucifer silenced him with a gentle kiss.

“You didn’t upset me. You overwhelmed me, yes, but in the best possible way.” He cupped Alastor’s face, thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. “I’ve never felt so seen. So cherished.”

“You made me feel incredible,” Lucifer assured him, pressing their foreheads together. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Alastor’s hands came to rest on Lucifer’s hips.

 His touch was feather-light, as if afraid Lucifer might shatter beneath his fingers. Lucifer covered Alastor’s hands with his own, pressing them more firmly against his skin.

“I’m here,” Lucifer murmured, rocking his hips slightly. “I’m okay. And I want you, if you still want this.”

Alastor’s breath hitched, his grip on Lucifer’s hips tightening fractionally. “I do,” he whispered. 

Lucifer smiled, reaching between them to guide Alastor’s still-hard cock to his hole. 

As he sank down, taking Alastor deep inside him, he kept his gaze locked on Alastor’s face. He watched as pleasure warred with lingering concern in those hazel eyes.

“That’s it,” Lucifer encouraged, rolling his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. “Let go, darling. I’ve got you.”

Alastor’s hands roamed Lucifer’s body, tracing the words he’d written earlier. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful. 

Lucifer arched into it, savoring the way Alastor’s fingers danced across his skin.

Slowly, deliberately, Lucifer began to move. He set a languid pace, rolling his hips in a gentle rhythm. His hands roamed Alastor’s chest, tracing the lean muscles there.

“You’re always so good to me,” Lucifer breathed, punctuating each word with a kiss along Alastor’s jaw. “Let go. I’ve got you now.”

Alastor’s breath hitched, his hands gripping Lucifer’s hips. Lucifer could feel the tension in his body, the tight control Alastor always maintained. 

“That’s it,” Lucifer encouraged, capturing Alastor’s mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. He poured everything he felt into that kiss—gratitude, desire, and something dangerously close to love.

Gradually, he felt Alastor relax beneath him. 

The rigid set of his shoulders softened, his breathing grew ragged. 

Lucifer smiled against his lips, relishing the small gasps and moans he elicited.

When Alastor finally came, it was with a quiet, shuddering exhale. 

Lucifer held him close, peppering his face with feather-light kisses.

As they caught their breath, a mischievous glint entered Lucifer’s eye. “So,” he said, tracing a finger along his own neck, “what exactly did you write here?”

Alastor’s laughter, rich and warm, filled the room. 

“Brat,” he said fondly, tapping Lucifer’s nose.

Lucifer couldn’t help but join in the laughter, feeling lighter than he had before they started. By a ton or two. 

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[p1ombo]

Ranking the HH episodes so far...

***DISCLAIMER TIME*** This is only covering the episodes that are publicly available rn, but beware of spoilers anyway. Updated 27 Jan, changes in red!

Also, I accidentally watched Episode 2 out of order. I took a break after Episode 1, and then came back and hit Play Next and it put me on Episode 3

#1: Episode 4 + Best songs (Poison/Loser, Baby) + Best character arc + Keith David fucking slays

#2: Episode 5 + Lucifer and Alastor's song might be my new favorite + Gettin' my lore fix - Alastor's sudden jealousy feels too out-of-nowhere

#3: Episode 6 + We stan Tsundere Pentious + More good Angel Dust character development - My least favorite trope (maybe?) (i.e. story decides to torpedo an otherwise healthy relationship just for drama)

#4: Episode 1 - Exposition felt a bit too clunky + Alastor has already stolen the show. It's his now.

#5: Episode 3 + Velvette's part in Respectless is still stuck in my head - Not super invested in Carmilla's or Vaggie's subplots

#6: Episode 2 - Kind of underwhelmed by Vox and Alastor's big number + Sir Pentious is new best boi

Overall Notes: + Character designs are (mostly) very well done and are able to make a distinct impression without feeling out of place + Has a lot of vocal talent, and generally makes good use of it - Some of the songs feel too abrupt, could do with more "lead-in" - Jason Statham does not voice Zestial - I know they had to cram a lot into only 8 episodes, and the strikes probably didn't help, but it feels like the story is going by WAAAY too fast

[hamliet]

Val and Angel have such a morbidly interesting relationship, and it really Lao brings into question how all the Vs are with Angel and each other. Vox seems to be very jealous of Angel and it makes me worried about how even he treats him

Vox seems jealous of everyone, honestly. He's very egocentric and presumably doesn't like Angel because of Vox's own troubling relationship with Val, and doesn't like Alastor supposedly because of technology but also, imo, clearly because he sees Alastor as something of a rival and he wants to WIN, dammit!

Honestly, it's difficult to say with what we know now, but Vox reminds me of a "tech bro" in a lot of ways. Seemingly has it all, is very privileged, and yet seething and insecure at the same time. He has a very utilitarian view of people in general, as do most corporate soulless CEOs, but he also has tinges of contradictory humanity--like his jealousy over Val.

Actually, Vox seems to disguise his emotions (insecurity via pettiness justified by technology or whatever, insecurity over love via scolding Val on bad business decisions with Angel) through a guise of levelheaded logic. He's not actually that logical though. His motives are me, myself, and I. He wants to win but win... what exactly? More prestige? How's success working out for him so far? Has it fulfilled him at all?

I am curious to learn more about him, because I feel his arc could be very interesting.

[odusseus-xvi]

So Campaign 3 's first arc and what's next, I've got some thoughts. (To get that out of the way, I'm having a blast with C3 at the moment).

I do think Arc 1 is coming to an end (wich make sense considering we are at épisode 25), and that, in particular, it will end with the capture of Treshi, the journey back to Jrusar, and a level up. What's interesting to think about then, is what's coming next, because in both previous campaign it was around this mark that we got an actual impressive villain with a bit more stakes (The Briarwoods in C1, and Lorenzo in C2, though maybe not something as impressive as the Briarwoods considering Vox Machina was above lvl 10 at this point) and as much as the beginning of C3 seems to have a more structured plot and main antagonist (Armand Treshi), it doesn't feel as dangerous as those, and that makes sense, we are still in arc 1. Now two plot hooks that indicates a way that Bell's Hells might take and that teases something like that :

- The Feywild : Obviously, considering we got Dusk and we are getting a meeting with the Calloways soon, I think we might get more info on Elmenore (Archfey of the seelie court) and her motivations soon, and maybe (I Hope) a bit of Nightmare King.

- Yios and the Moon conspiracy : wich will be a trip that will link to 3 PCs ; Directly to both Imogen (Ruidus studies) and Orym (The murder of his husband), and more indirectly Chetney (The Gorginei are in aeshanadoor)

Now as much as I think The Feywild might bé the next one, the fact that it's potentialy linked to an Archfey made me think it would be for more late game. And for Yios and ruidus, well it could bé, but it has a heavy BBEG feel... So again I don't know.

There are other possibilités, but we almost don't know anything about them yet ... :

- Ashton and Hexum 's connection to the Clasp

- FCG's misterious one eyed monster.

- Delilah Briarwood (??!!?!!)

- Ultgar (:D)

- Finding the nobodies

- Or something completely New.

But whatever comes next, I'm excited.

Little unrelated note : Yes, I'm incredibly excited about what Laura, Erika and Marisha have planned for the romance/jealousy things , whatever the f*ck's happening.

[nochiquinn]

legend of vox machina episode ten: Depths of Deceit OR Monocle Dragur is my steampunk folk metal band

[screams]

"didn't you already watch these twice" bold of you to assume I've stopped screaming from the first time

the barrel reflected in the eye!!

god percy's face when she cuts him. someone went in on that expression.

"she's unarmed!" huehuehue

"we're both engineers, percival" "stop trying to relate to me"

"you are legit fucked up"

I wonder if Pike's crush on Percy will get any play. I literally forgot about it until just now.

percy literally being burned up by orthax

once again, things I missed until I paused: orthax forming a literal hand to shove pike away

"your concerns are appreciated" reminded that "I'm Not Okay" by MCR was on taliesin's first percy playlist. the entire caption was "oh, keyleth."

love that "zippertwat" is going on the list of things they mispronounced and then never bothered to say correctly ever again

usually it's grog that causes those

down down to goblin town

"then trust me" cries

"you're at the bottom of my list" "I have no idea what that means so I will continue to look smug"

love the overhead shot of the people charging the castle

pike's face when scanlan starts hitting on cassandra

percy: [tenth doctor voice] stop it

"you're my best friend! except now you GLOW IN THE DARK" I missed grog

vex this is not the time for your I Told You Sos

catch me downloading these just to get the in-between frames of the way vax looked at his sister

like vex is very much "cool, she shot him down, brother's all mine again" and vax is "I am GRIEVING why are you LIKE THIS"

because he knows he was never going to give vex up or love her any less but she didn't and her anxiety manifested as jealousy and anger bc there are no therapists in exandria

and now that she feels like the danger's passed she's on cloud nine and he is. v much not reciprocating.

ripley just trying desperately to relate to percy on an intellectual level when percy is Not Available, please leave a message with the demon at the front desk

percy taking all cass' ribbing as their old relationship settling back in when she's just actually incredibly bitter

flametongue dagger!!

100% did not remember its name until vax used it as a torch

dragur

the fucking monocle, who gets buried in their monocle

"uncle nathaniel?!"

"which one of my ancestors did you just shame to death"

WAIT. WAIT. did grog do the goddamn people's elbow

he DID travis istg

"I'm not what you should be worried about" incorrect

pike: grog push this grog: :D vax: grog push this grog: fuck you pay me

vex you do not get to be pissy about vax's attitude, you caused this, deal with the consequences of your actions

(not like she caused keyleth's reaction but see above re: her disposition vs his)

"it's a drug factory!" torn between sad bc knowing what happens w/scanlan later and giggling bc dariax rubbing it on his gums in EXU

rogue go nyoom

"bit of a slow learner" he is correct there

the little flash of yellow in her eyes!!

I wasn't sold on cassandra's va before but now I get it

we got the acid trap AND Cassandra Is A Briarwood, ty jennifer muro

ripley flipping him off was extremely funny

"life is far more valuable to you than it is to us" is such a raw fucking line

"be a lamb, would you?" mercer pls I'm already gay

my hc is that vex might have been able to get through to vax more quickly if she hadn't been smug about keyleth.

this is NOT vex hate, do NOT come for me, this is INTERPERSONAL DRAMA and part of vex's arc

but also Oh No If It Isn't the Consequences of My Own Actions

the biggest thing I miss about the stream is being in the character's heads; I can say Vax Is Annoyed With Vex or Keyleth is Worred About Vax But It's Tied Up In Complicated Emotions until I turn blue but I don't have their external internal monologue to defend my positions with anymore. just source: dude trust me

(I also genuinely enjoy hearing them - mostly liam - go in on what they're feeling and why. they don't do it as much anymore but after 1000+ hours of watching them the lines are a little easier to read between)

"vex?" "why are you looking at me?!" you are one of two designated adults and the other is Driving Under the Influence (of Demon)

percy machine broken

vex: we will never abandon you mala: says the person who two days ago was very much contemplating abandoning you

scanlan just starts playing through the fire and the flames on guitar hero

"we need to triangulate its location" ripley stop using big words to sound smart

grog hears "that's incredibly stupid and dangerous" and has no follow-up questions

afaik he doesn't have any acid immunities, just a federation-standard fuckton of hitpoints

now scanlan's cheating at guitar hero

(it's okay, I taped a penny to the green button too)

"since I helped, don't you think I earned my freedom" it's not "helping" if you were also in danger

"is captain winky still there?"

pike started saying "buddies", plural, at this point and I do not know why

"forgot my drawers"

THERE ARE TWO PATHS

now I get to actually listen to scanlan's desperation metal over the credits

[hiccup-is-left-handed]

October, December and Quen'pillar!! :)

(Again, sorry for the delay! From this.)

October :: Who is your favorite NPC that was introduced this year?

I mean it’s gotta be Essek, right? Hot boi is in a very precarious political position rn and I need the Nein to go back and be his friends again please he is very young and he needs you

December :: If you could change anything about what happened during the main campaign this year, what would it be?

ehehehe. oh boy, is it time for one of my controversial opinions? The #1 thing I would change about campaign 2 so far is Nott’s (Sam’s?) aggressive comphet ideology, especially when it comes to Fjorester and also kind of Caduceus that one time with the Bright Queen? Jester already has trouble with boundaries, and Nott has only made that worse when it comes to Fjord. I know I haven’t finished the pirate arc, but I do know what happened, and I know that a lot of Jester’s jealousy and other interactions with Fjord wouldn’t have happened without Nott’s encouragement. I don’t wish Nott didn’t think that way, necessarily, because Nott’s character could be an incredible exploration of the feminine gender role and how damaging it can be for people who will never fit into that mold. But Nott isn’t changing that aspect of herself, and I really, really wish she would. Tl;dr the baileyhams are coming to end comphet’s whole career and i need sam riegel to get with the program cos middle-aged white suburban mom!nott has outstayed her welcome with me

Quen'pillar :: Give me three Mighty Nein predictions for the next year!

1. The Nein meet Vox Machina. Come on Matt. Give it to me. I’m begging you.

2. Jester and Caduceus hit their breaking points, and either one or both of those events leads to the Nein starting to have true emotional vulnerability with each other. (I have a lot of thoughts about this but I won’t dump them here)

3. The S.S. Lavorregard sets sail! It might not be soon, but it Will Be! I Must Have It!

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Episode 106

Returning after several weeks away from writing these! Huge thanks to @loquaciousquark​ for jumping in. <3

The episode begins with Matt and Marisha lint-rolling Darin’s suit.

Marisha officially started as CD of Geek and Sundry back in January or February and finally feels like she can start talking about how the work she’s been doing has been coming to fruition.

No TM next week due to travel.

There were four police helicopters circling Matt and Marisha’s place, during which a police dog came through their backyard and destroyed their backyard couch.

Marisha’s doing an AMA on the subreddit tomorrow.

Brian: “Banned from every single Critical Role Q&A as of this moment are any and all High Noon-related questions.”

Once the party rested for the evening before going to find Ioun, Matt knew they would be too late to prevent Vecna’s ascension, and from there he was just waiting for a good narrative beat to reveal it.

Darin thought Sprigg was going to have to sacrifice himself to keep Ioun alive. Matt wasn’t sure how that was going to end, either, but as soon as Sprigg started offering his services, Matt and Darin both saw the opportunity for a redemption arc 37 years in the making. 

Sprigg never actually learned anybody’s names in the party.

Sprigg’s advice to Vax was something Darin took to heart during a hard time in his life: “Life is loud, and noisy, and it should be a celebration.”

Marisha points out that just because Keyleth’s taking a more neutral or cynical worldview in some situations, that doesn’t mean she’s losing the empathy that’s the core of her character. The two aren’t mutually exclusive; she mainly sees it as Keyleth becoming less “stubborn in her self-righteousness.”

Matt felt Percy was beginning to fall into the nature of someone who was a seeker of knowledge, but it was knowledge that he coveted for his own enlightenment, as opposed to sharing it with others. “He prided himself on knowing things and being the one who knew things.” Not so much even keeping the guns secret, which was more about the danger involved, but more “just his personality and his lack of faith in the gods in general.” Matt thought about Scanlan, who’d spent his life learning about the world and then conveying and sharing that knowledge to uplift and inspire other people. Between Ioun being a goddess devoted to the sharing and spreading of knowledge, and Scanlan’s newfound interest in faith, those elements came together and made Scanlan “a more pure candidate than what Percival was at the moment.”

Matt didn’t have any idea how everyone was going to solve the puzzle, what groups they were going to break into, etc.---he’d thought of a few possible ways for them to succeed, and then had to sit back and hope they’d figure it out.

Keyleth doesn’t think being faithless would necessarily disqualify her in Melora’s eyes, especially given the conversations she’s had with the gods thus far; it’s the difference between belief and reverence. She’s more concerned about time right now than anything else.

The gods can only give their gifts once. If they give it away to the wrong people, it cannot be given again, which is why they’re running these tests (also because it’s more fun that way). If Scanlan had failed the test, Ioun would not have given him her blessing, and would’ve waited for another powerful adventurer to come by. Matt points out that while Vox Machina are among the most powerful people in the world right now, there’s a lot going on in the world, and other candidates could potentially arise.

Darin thinks Sprigg is going to enjoy accumulating so much knowledge and living everyone else’s adventures; it’s his version of heaven.

Vecna fundamentally seeks knowledge; he hangs onto it, keeps it secret, and kills anyone else who knows it. Brian points out that Sprigg is also essentially hoarding knowledge (he’s chaotic evil, but he’s not necessarily a villain: he’s selfish), but now he’s learning to give a bit of that back since Ioun shared some of herself with him and he returned it to her.

Keyleth is genuinely delighted for Percy and Vex, but thinks Percy is “a little bit of a fucking dick for not telling me.” Keyleth’s also got some jealousy going on given Vax’s situation right now. “Good for her. Good for her. Good for Janet.”

Matt points out that the gods they’ve seen are just the most readily available ones to them, and so it’s possible for them to actively seek out the others: Kord, Erathis, etc. But now they have to weigh it against the time (and other things) they’ll lose in doing so, versus deciding to engage in the final conflict earlier. Marisha points out how much Matt loves his timed challenges.

Matt: “Someone please make a half-orc named Thigh Gap as a D&D character.”

After it appears in somebody’s screen name, Darin learns what “grundle” means. Pointing to his suit: “You know what, this is linen. I spent a couple bucks on this. There’s a fake carnation. Thank you for your username.” Matt suggests “grundle” be replaced by “humble bundle” in the common vernacular from now on.

Matt and Darin agree that Sprigg’s alignment has shifted more toward chaotic neutral. Darin: “You get older, you change. You can’t stay the same.” Marisha: “People change you. If you’re left alone, you stay the same.” 

During the discussion, Darin and Matt segue naturally into a brief scene together as Sprigg and Dimitri the imp.

Marisha talks about the parallels between Keyleth’s connections with Kerrek and Sprigg: both arrived right in the midst of her being stuck in a rut where she didn’t feel like anyone in the party was available to mirror her inner worries back to her. Sprigg talking about forgetting his companions’ names brought up a new fear in Keyleth about her future, but at the same time, his statements about the importance of memory are helping her start to process the possibility of losing Vax.

Darin talks about how roleplaying can let you tell a friend how deeply you feel about them without having to say it directly. Brian points out that the genuine openness and emotional honesty between the players is one of the biggest draws of the show.

Matt is deeply moved that the show fits into that rare space where people watching the show can relatively easily go out and emulate it themselves. It’s not just knowing people like the show, it’s knowing the show pushed them to start their own adventures and make their own connections that could play out for years... possibly even 37 years and two generations of players.

Matt loves having a villain that can pop in and taunt VM whenever he likes. Vecna’s pretty much just going around and trolling everyone who doesn’t believe he’s already won. Having a recurring villain like that also gives Matt more opportunities to develop him as a character and to build more interactions with the players.

Brian thinks of the Raven Queen-Vax interactions as a Galadriel-Frodo relationship... but if Galadriel were played by Helena Bonham Carter.

Blocks Machina:

The inspiration for Vecna’s voice is a bit of Orson Welles with some gravel and a little rounding.

Marisha and Darin encourage Matt to look into voice directing, and he thinks he’d enjoy that, but he also thinks there isn’t really a gap there right now with all the wonderful folks directing at the moment. He also finds directing exhausting and has one or two other things on his plate right now...

Darin on taking risks like traveling across the country for something you’re passionate about: “You can only take the first step.” Marisha: “It’s good you’re scared. You should be. That’s healthy.” Matt talks about how it’s important to go into it knowing that persistence may not be enough to pay off, and you have to keep checking in with yourself to make sure it’s still something you’re passionate about. It can take a long time, and you have to be prepared for bad years among the good years. Brian points out that wherever you start out, you should already be doing your craft there, because you’re not magically going to find inspiration and the ability to do the work by moving across the country. Marisha talks about the isolation of moving to a new place, and also talks about checking your ego at the door and trying to find ways to pay it forward as you go.

Matt talks about how he grew up with the old-school tabletop RPG communities and always wanted to be an ambassador to help bring the old-school fans into the newer/transformative stuff, so in spite of himself he still gets very bummed out when he stumbles across a whole thread of D&D fans talking about how much they hate him and think he’s singlehandedly ruined the game and the genre. Getting that kind of negativity is almost inevitable, but getting it from a group that he considers himself a part of hits a lot harder.

Darin mentions that Sprigg’s last thank-you was, of course, to Matt rather than Ioun.