Youâre probably aware of the old patent medicines- everything from harmless snake oils to very real, very dangerous concoctions of cocaine, morphine, belladonna, and alcohol that were sold without regulation by people who were more showmen than pharmacists.
And, likewise, youâre probably familiar with todayâs over the counter (OTC) medications- the acetaminophen (paracetamol), ibuprofen, diphenhydramine, aspirin, loperamide, bismuth subsalysate- that you would find in the local pharmacy, drug or grocery store.Â
But you might not be aware that there was a period in between these. Where there was some government regulation, some knowledge that you probably didnât need (and didnât want) morphine for your cough, but where the pharmacy knowledge wasnât quite where it is today as far as making medicine relatively safe for consumers to purchase without a prescription.
Well I recently went to an antique mall with a whole section devoted to early OTC drug packaging, and found it absolutely fascinating. I did some research on what I found for you guys- hope you find it as interesting as I did!
Painkillers/Analgesics:
The first two are both marketed as âLaxative Cold Tabletsâ and contain a drug called âAcetanilide.â Acetanilide was first created in 1886, and first marketed under the brand name âAntifebrinâ in 1887. It was one of the first non-aspirin, non-opioid painkillers/fever reducers available to consumers. Acetanilide is a prodrug of acetaminophen (AKA paracetamol, brand name Tylenol), meaning that while the chemical itself was not particularly helpful, the body would break it down into acetaminophen, which was responsible for the painkilling and fever-reducing effects.
Though effective, acetanilide and other similar acetamenophen prodrugs did have a significant drawback. Sometimes it would metabolize to a chemical called aniline along with acetaminophen (or aniline would be present in the drug all along due to defects in the production process). Aniline can be extremely toxic, causing a condition called methylglobinemia where the blood fails to adequately circulate oxygen. Due to this, once it was discovered that the metabolite acetaminophen could be synthesized and used without this risk, acetanilide was taken off the market.
The doses present in each tablet are measured in grains- typically 1 grain equals about 65mg. Instructions for such medications were usually to take 2 grains initially (130mg) and then 1 grain (65mg) every 3 hours as needed after that.
The term âlaxativeâ appears in many different early OTC cold/pain medications. Oddly, the best I can find was that other ingredients were added to cause the laxative effect, not that bowel motility was a natural side effect of acetanilide. So basically people just really liked laxatives to the point where you could market your cold meds better if you made them laxatives as a perkâŚ
The main painkiller in C-2223 is sodium salicylate- a chemical similar to aspirin that is used today primarily to treat acne topically (if youâve ever read the bottle of an acne product and seen âsalicylic acidâ this is a salt version of that acid). It has all the same issues that aspirin does, including risk for bleeding, and reyeâs syndrome in children. As such, the warning ânot for childrenâ on the bottle is very accurate.
Expectorants:
Along with sodium salicylate, C-2223 also contained potassium iodide. While most people know potassium iodide as a preventative against certain aspects of radiation sickness, it is also an expectorant, or drug that loosens mucous to make it easier to cough up. Potassium iodide is still available as an expectorant, but usually this is by prescription for chronic bronchitis and other longer-term respiratory illnesses. Today potassium iodide has largely been replaced by the expectorant guafenesin due to severe allergy concerns for some patients (those allergic to shellfish, iodine, or contrast media may have a life-threatening reaction).
Another expectorant, usually used in combination with potassium iodide was ammonium chloride. Ammonium chloride works by irritating the respiratory tract, which encourages it to shed liquid, which loosens secretions. Ammonium chloride can still be found in some some cough medicines, but tends to also irritate the stomach and intestines, causing prohibitive side effects.
Antihistamines/Ye Olde NyQuil:Â
The concept of combining a painkiller, antihistamine, cough suppressant and expectorant into one convenient package for cold and flu is not new.
This tin of Tabcin was from sometime in the late 1930s. It contains the antihistamine thenylpyramine hydrochloride, the painkiller acetophenetidin, and caffeine.
Thenylpyramine hydrochloride is a very early first generation antihistamine. It has largely been replaced by doxylamine (the sedating/antihistamine part of NyQuil) and diphenhydramine (Benadryl).
Acetophenetidin is yet another acetaminophen prodrug- with a twist. Acetophenetidin has a major side effect of being a negative inotrope. Negative inotropes decrease the strength of the heartâs contractions, and so need to be packaged with a positive inotrope (something that strengthens heart muscle contractions), like the caffeine present in this preparation in order to be useful and not cause really serious problems. The caffeine may also have helped counter some of the sedating effect from the thenylpyramine.
Rahnous capsules, meanwhile, go all out. Pyrilamine as an antihistamine (this was taken off the market in the 1970s due to demonstrated risk of liver cancer in rats), acetophenetidin as a painkiller, belladonna as a positive inotrope, extract of lobelia as an expectorant (lobelia, fun fact, contains a drug extremely similar to nicotine), sodium salicylate as another painkiller, camphor (either as another expectorant or positive inotrope, possibly a stimulant to mitigate the sedation from the antihistamine), and magnesium oxide as, you guessed it, a laxative.
Just rewatched F/ullmetal A/lchemist: Brotherhood, so here's Roy and Riza both trying to hide their colds from each other at the officeđĽ°
3k, set immediately post-series. Minor mess mentions.
*****
Riza Hawkeye was the perfect sharpshooter. Her discipline, precision, and control allowed for near-flawless aim, while her calm and collected demeanor ensured that she could get in, get the job done, and get out without hesitation.
As Riza awoke with her head in a fog and aching limbs, she prayed her skills would not be needed today.
Since joining the military, Riza couldn't recall having a real break. Not that she wanted one, particularly. For every national issue the military addressed, it seemed like two more popped up like the ugly heads of a Hydra. Governing a nation isâor should beâan ongoing exercise in betterment, and as long as Colonel Mustang had his eyes on the highest office in Amestris, Riza would work dutifully by his side to improve the lives of Amestrians. For anyone else, losing one's sight in a battle against a Homunculus who swallowed God and somehow coming out victorious would be a cause for celebration. A vacation, maybe. For Roy, it only kindled his desire to rebuild Amestris on a foundation of justice, carving out the violence and hatred seated deep in the country's core.
As soon as Roy and Riza were discharged from the hospital (and even before), they were back to work. With Grumman taking on the role of FĂźhrer, the Eastern Command Center was sorely lacking leadership, and Roy was the obvious candidate for the role. Roy and Riza had now been back in the office for three days, and Riza was starting to wonder if she had perhaps rushed her recovery. Her head was pounding as she entered the Command Center. Her throat burned. Her eyelids drooped. Riza felt, in no uncertain terms, like a pile of hot garbage.
Upon dragging herself into the Colonel's office, Riza noted that despite how sluggish she felt, she was as punctual as ever and had arrived before her superior. She took a seat at her desk and sighed at the mountain of paperwork in front of her; it would be another long day.
As the minutes ticked by, Riza wavered between relief that Mustang hadn't arrived yet to see her sorry state and concern as to his whereabouts. Had he gotten into a fight on the way to work? Had he been kidnapped by a Bradley loyalist? Did he accidentally light himself on fire?
Her hypothetical concerns were interrupted by a persistent itch deep in her sinuses. She pinched the bridge of her nose to try to quell the sensation, but the relentless tickle refused to leave. It only grew and grew, demanding her attention, until she had no choice but to release a double into her cupped hand. "hksShh! hih'KSshiew!"
Riza grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket to clean her hand and dab at the moisture above her upper lip. Before she could fully regain her composure, she heard the familiar sound of military-issue boots approaching in the hallway, followed by the turning of the doorknob. Riza shot up out of her chair and stood at attention.
"Sir!" she barked, a slight rasp creeping into her voice.
Colonel Roy Mustang entered and dismissed Riza with the nonchalant wave of his hand. "Lieutenant."
"Late start this morning?" She analyzed his face and movements, searching for any signs of injury. Though she found no cuts or bruises, the bags under his eyes and unnatural pallidness of his skin suggested that something was off.
Roy averted her gaze. "Yeah, I overslept. I had some trouble sleeping last night."
"Something on your mind?"
"I suppose a lot of things. I want to handle the restoration of Ishval appropriately. Major Miles from Briggs will be coming in next week to discuss what his team is working on so we can collaborate. And speaking of IshvalâŚ" Roy grabbed a piece of paper from his desk. "This is the materials requisition form for the first phase of our project. Can you make a copy of this?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll be in the archives office for most of the day doing more research if you need me." Roy turned to leave.
"After I make the copy, do you want me to join you?"
"No," Roy answered too quickly. "No, that won't be necessary. After you bring me the copy, you can continue working through our backlog of paperworkâ" He gestured to the stack on her desk. "âand if by some miracle you finish that, you can start the proposal for an Ishvalan irrigation system."
Riza nodded, grateful that she would have some solitude today, but finding Roy's behavior somewhat suspect. She would get to the bottom of what was going on sooner or later. In the meantime, she had plenty of work to do.
Roy exited, and Riza took to carefully typing up a copy of the requisition. Normally, such a task would only take her a few minutes, but today, she found herself checking over each line a dozen times for errors as she fought through increasingly blurry vision and a budding headache. After what felt like an hour, Riza pulled the almost-completed form from her typewriter and grabbed a fountain pen to check the last few boxes and sign off on the form. She pressed the tip of the pen into the paper, only to be interrupted by the return of that irksome itch in her nose.
Not again, she thought.
Attempting to keep the pen steady, she turned her head to the side and held a knuckle from her free hand under her nose. Breath hitching, she inhaled, then exhaled just as shakily, warm air from her nose caressing her fingers. "hihâŚihâŚ"
Riza Hawkeye was not one to back down from a fight, but she could tell this battle was already lost. Letting the sneeze overtake her, she curled into her fist, spraying her hand and coat sleeve. "hiihSShhiew!"
Sniffling, she withdrew her hand from her face and returned her focus to the requisition form. Her eyes widened in horror as she noticed that despite her efforts to keep the pen in control, an unseemly ink blot marred one box. Though the form was still legible, she scolded herself for her lapse in professionalism. Ordinarily, she would have retyped the form, but so much time had passed since the Colonel initially asked for a copy that she figured it was better to turn in something, imperfect as it may be.
Sighing, Riza snatched the form from her desk and set off toward archives. She found a perky secretary with her hair in a bun seated outside the office.
"Good morning," Riza said. "I have something to deliver to Colonel Mustang. Is he here?"
"Yes!" the secretary replied with a grin. "Though⌠he asked not to be disturbed unless it was urgent."
"I'm his Lieutenant. He asked me to bring him a copy of this form."
"Ah, wellâŚ" The secretary hesitated.
Riza was unperturbed. "I'm going in. If he has a problem with that, I will answer to him. You've done your job."
She strode into the archives office and shut the door behind her. As it latched with a thud, Roy Mustang popped up from behind a filing cabinet. "Lieutenant!" He seemed frazzled by her sudden arrival. "Did youâŚ" He coughed once into his fist, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Did you need something?"
Riza held out the form, hiding the smudged ink with her thumb. "I have the copy of the requisition."
"Oh. Thank you." As he took the form, she held her breath, hoping he would say nothing about the poor quality. "You can get back to your paperwork. I'll be here if you have any issues."
"Yes, sir."
When she returned to her desk, Riza began to tackle the seemingly endless pile of work in front of her. She had only filed two forms when that obnoxious tickle returned to torment her nose. Having learned her lesson, she dropped everything she was holding and frantically dug in her pocket for her handkerchief as her chest heaved. She pulled out the handkerchief in the nick of time and pitched forward. "hih'kshh! ishhh! Hih'KSHhhiew!"
As Riza blew her nose wetly, the door flew open, and Colonel Mustang entered the room. She hastily shoved the handkerchief back in her pocket and sat up straight.
"Lieutenant," the Colonel said, "please make another copy of the requisition form."
Riza's gaze fell to her lap. "Yes, sir. Was the last copy not up to standard?"
When Roy didn't respond immediately, she glanced up and was surprised to see that the Colonel's face had blanched. "Er, no, it's⌠I just need another."
Was he trying to protect her feelings? She was well aware of the ink blot, and if there had been other errors she had missed in her groggy state, she needed to know. "Colonel, please tell me if my work was unsatisfactory so that I can adjust accordingly."
A deep red rose in Mustang's cheeks. "We don't need to discuss it further! Just make another copy. That is an order, Lieutenant."
Riza's eyes narrowed. She had no problem following fair and logical commands, but she didn't take well to having orders barked at her without justification.
Roy didn't wait for a response, and left Hawkeye alone once again in the office. She meticulously copied the form again, painstakingly double-checking every detail between sniffles and sneezes. She simply left the form on the Colonel's desk when she finished; if he wanted it, he would have to come get it.
The rest of the day was tedious and lonely. The Colonel stayed holed up in the archives office even through lunch, and Riza found herself struggling to sort through the paperwork all on her own. As her symptoms worsened throughout the afternoon, it became almost impossible to read any files. Her eyes were bleary, her nose was dripping, and her throat was on fire. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep.
As evening approached and she was putting the finishing touches on one last file, there was a soft knock at the door. "Lieutenant?" Mustang's muffled voice came from the hallway.
Though her body protested, Riza rose to open the door. "Colonel. I left the new copy of the requisition form on your desk, and I made a dent in the paperwork backlog."
"Thank you. I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out."
Riza nodded. "I'm finishing up too. I'll leave in a few minutes."
"Well, goodnight, Lieutenant." Roy turned on his heel.
"Sorry, Colonel. There was one thing I wanted to speak with you about before you go." Stopping in his tracks, Roy spun back around, face-to-face with the Lieutenant. Riza couldn't meet his eyes. "I wanted to apologize for my substandard work today. I have to admit that I may not have fully recovered from my injuries before returning to the office, and I haven't been feeling well. I know that came through in my work."
Roy was silent for a beat. And then another. When he still hadn't responded, Riza looked up to see his slack-jawed, watery-eyed expression as his chest rose and fell. Roy tented his hands over his face and snapped forward with a volley of powerful, wet sneezes. "hih'JSHhoo! ikSHHhoo! hih-ih-HIH'KSHhooo!" Roy groaned, realizing his charade was up, and wiped a finger inelegantly under his nose. "I could make the same apology to you, Lieutenant. To be honest, I didn't notice a difference in the quality of your work. I've barely been able to keep upright today. I think we picked something up on the train from Central."
Riza wasn't sure whether to be relieved that the Colonel wasn't judging her for her poor performance, angry that he had hid his ailment (though she, of course, had done the same), or worried about his health. She settled on confusion. "Why did you ask me to recopy the requisition form? It wasn't because of the ink blot?"
Roy rubbed a hand on the back of his neck sheepishly. "Ah, I barely got a chance to look at the form. You seeâŚ"
Roy recounted his eventful morning.
***
Being a State Alchemist came with perks. Money, fame, power⌠and, for better or worse, responsibility. Roy often felt the weight of the nation on his shoulders, and today, that weight was compounded by soreness and fatigue. He couldn't take a day off when there was so much rebuilding to do, but⌠his bed was very tempting that morning. As he donned his uniform for the day, he sat down on the edge of his bed to pull his socks on, struggling to keep his eyes open. He indulged himself by allowing his eyes to drift shut for a few seconds. When he opened them, he was sprawled out on the bed and twenty minutes had passed.
"Shit!"
Roy raced to the office, well-aware he was already late. He tried to keep his cool when Hawkeye questioned him about it, but he knew he had to find a way to distance himself from her, because if she dug much deeper, she would undoubtedly realize he was sick and tell him to go home. The archives office provided the perfect excuse: he did, in fact, need to read through some old files on Ishval, and locking himself away meant he would be free of the Lieutenant's discerning gaze.
Roy splayed out several reports on Ishvalan architecture on the floor and sat down in the middle of them. While his legs were grateful for the opportunity to rest, his sinuses were less impressed by their current situation. Tossing the musty files to the ground had kicked up quite a bit of dust, irritating Roy's already sensitive nose. He inhaled deliberately; there was no use delaying the inevitable. He had locked himself away to dwell alone in his sick misery without feeling judged, so he might as well get some relief.
As Roy breathed in, the itch spiraled deeper and deeper until it became unbearable. His breath quivered, his face contorted, and he snapped forward, sneezing uncovered toward his lap. "hih-Hih'KSshhoo! jSHhhioo!" Spray danced in the air. With a sigh, he leaned his head back against a filing cabinet, hoping to take a minute to recover from the powerful expulsions that just tore through him.
The recovery was cut short, however, as he heard the sound of the creaking door. Roy jumped to his feet. "Lieutenant!" Had she heard him sneezing outside? Would she attempt to relieve him of duty? He had to act natural. "Did youâŚ" Damn, his voice was too raspy. Clearing his throat as subtly as possible, he continued, "Did you need something?"
"I have the copy of the requisition," she said, offering him the form.
"Oh. Thank you." Roy approached her and took the paper, trying to keep his movements natural and his speech level. He felt rather like a drunk person feigning sobriety. "You can get back to your paperwork. I'll be here if you have any issues."
"Yes, sir."
As Hawkeye shut the door behind her, Roy let out a breath. Phew. She doesn't seem to suspect anything.
Roy perused the form from the Lieutenant, making sure all the right boxes were checked. "Mhm, looks good," he mumbled to himself, followed by, "Oh. Oh no. HIH'JKSHHhioo!"
Roy sneezed squarely in the middle of the paper. Where droplets of spray had hit it, the ink was already starting to run. "Shit, shit, shit." He held a gloved hand behind the paper and snapped, intending to create just enough of a flame to dry the wet spots on the page. Instead, the whole sheet ignited and crumbled to ash at his feet.
Colonel Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, a man renowned for his pinpoint accuracy, stared in silence at the charred remains on the floor. "Hm. Fuck."
***
When the Colonel finished relaying the incident with the form, all Riza could do was shake her head while suppressing a smile. "That was why you needed an extra copy?" she asked.
Mustang hung his head. "Yes."
Riza suddenly stood at attention, her fierce eyes aimed dead ahead and her posture impossibly straight. "Sir! Neither of us are fit to work, and our illness will continue preventing us from completing our tasks unless we take time to heal. I am requesting to put in a sick day for tomorrow."
A smile toyed at Roy's lips. Lieutenant Hawkeye almost never took time off. She must have been feeling as awful as he was. "Granted, Lieutenant. Please get some rest tomorrow."
"And sir! I am also requesting that you take a sick day tomorrow."
Roy was taken aback. "Lieutenant! I have been entrusted with overseeing the Eastern Command Center. I can't take a day off just because I⌠I f-ih-eel⌠ih-hih⌠hih-ih-HIKSHhhioo! Ugh⌠Just because I feel a littleâŚ" He sniffled. "âŚsick."
Hawkeye held her ground. "Sir, if you come in tomorrow, I will too." As if to emphasize how bad an idea this was, she cupped a hand over her nose, and her head bobbed down with a rapid fit. "ikshh! h'Kshhuh! ih'KSshhiew!" She blew her nose to punctuate her point.
"LieutenantâŚ" Roy sighed. "Fine. Request granted. We should both take a sick day tomorrow. Is that all?"
"I have one final request." Maybe it was a budding fever talking, but Riza was feeling bold. "I am concerned that you will not take care of yourself properly if you're home alone tomorrow. As your adjutant, it is my responsibility to assist you so that you can operate at your best and most efficient." Riza stared Roy straight in the eye. "As such, I am requesting that you come back to my apartment to recover. Sir."
It was an absurd request, and an obvious transgression of the military's rules about fraternization between superiors and subordinates. But maybe for one night, just until he felt better⌠Roy imagined Riza bringing him tea, wrapping him in a blanket, maybe even laying a gentle hand on his forehead to check for feverish heatâŚ
In which Alastor tries so hard to hide being sick while held captive by the Vees and Vox is anything but normal about it.
C/W: Mess, sleep deprivation, themes of non-con, restraints, masks
AO3
Iâll keep your smug ass alive.
It turned out that being kept alive meant that and only that - being given the bare minimum of sleep, food, water, showers, or anything health promoting really. That combined with the crowds of demons constantly flocking in and out of the Tower meant that it was only a matter of âwhenâ and not âifâ Alastor would come down with something.
So it hadnât been a total surprise when Alastorâs throat had started feeling scratchy. It had persisted well into the night and into the next day no matter how much he cleared his throat. The Vees seemed to pick up on how much he enjoyed his hot coffee and limited it to one measly mug with breakfast. Then came long the other symptoms that only promised more misery to come - the runny nose, coughing, sniffling, and -Â
âEâtscxxktt!âÂ
That. Heâd been doing that quite a bit today. It was getting near damn impossible to hold them back now, and much harder to restrain them with him unable to physically hold his nose. He sniffled softly, peaking over at Vox and Valentino in the bed to make sure they were still asleep. Luckily he still heard soft undisturbed snores.Â
They sure seem to be sleeping great.
Alastor stared longingly. So far the only thing that had given him slightly away was his dark eye bags. Vox was having too much fun with it. The TV demon had insisted on keeping Alastor up late last night as an âunwilling audienceâ for his own personal speech rehearsals and waking him up every time Alastor started to nod off. It drove Alastor insane, but his smile never faltered.
Now it was cruel that Alastorâs own body itself had woken him back up sometime later in the night just to feel worse. He now felt achy, weak, and most dreadful of all - cold. Hell was hot; this was a well known fact. Yet he was shivering against the cords binding him to the chair.Â
Wonderful. Whatever this was seemed determined to stay and make itself known.
Alastor had been doing a good job of hiding this. He ate all his meals yesterday despite having no appetite. He carefully chose his words to not sound stuffy. He waited until the Vees were out of earshot to cough quietly.Â
But a fever?Â
Pushing through this would certainly be a challenge, he figured, though not something he couldnât do. Heâd hidden his wound and that had also been accompanied by a fever. A cold was nothing compared to that. Yes heâd have to literally grin and bear it, but it would all be worth it in the end.Â
âHh-â
Alastor sniffled, tried to think about anything else as his nose tickled again, but there was only one way to make it truly go away.
âAtschkktt!âÂ
His nose was not satisfied, and very keen on making this apparent.
âHehâshxxt! Hhhâgxxtt!â Nâsshxxt!!â
Vox shifted in his sleep and rolled over, but the two remained sound asleep. Alastor grinned arrogantly. No matter the circumstances, he was always the one in control. Some discomfort would never stand in the way of his ever so carefully crafted plan. Sick or not, heâd be the first one up again in the morning like he always was - ready to start his day still one step ahead of the Vees.
~
âI know heâs your toy to play with and all, but he looks very fuckable when he sleeps.â
âI got pics and vids at every angle! Want some with you in it?â
âBe quiet you two! The little radio babyâs sleeping!â
Hushed excited voices and mean snickers circled around Alastor until he finally stirred awake. He looked up to see the Vees all staring at him. The window shades were rolled up to reveal the bright red of another day in Hell, which was exactly how he felt.
âAw man! I told you not to wake him up! I just got him down.â Vox laughed, leaning in towards Alastor with his hands on his hips. âAww, are you mad we interrupted your little cat nap?â
âFuck off Vox.â Alastor spat out, hesitant to test out his voice with anything more complex of a sentence.
âWell good morning to you too, sleeping beauty.â Vox mocked. âIs that any way to speak to the same people simply trying to make sure you donât oversleep and miss breakfast?â
Itâs not even oversleeping. Itâs just sleeping at this point!
Alastor sniffed carefully and cleared his throat. âYou talk big game - â he paused. His voice sounded rough around the edges but nothing too noticeable as long as he was careful. â - for someone whose job it is to make me breakfast.â
âYouâre lucky we even feed you at all.â Vox said.
âThe point still stands. You act as if youâre doing me a favor but the reality is that I get to relax while you slave away behind the stove. Whoâs really the lucky one here?â
âFor that attitude I donât think he should get his coffee this morning.âÂ
âThatâs a great idea Velvette. Iâm sure he wouldnât want us to take away some of the food on his plate too.â Vox added, his tone icy.
Fuck. Forget the food. Coffee was the only thing that Alastor really needed. Every inch of his head pounded.
Vox smirked. âThatâs what I thought. Val, get him ready would you? Wouldnât want his breakfast getting cold.â
âUnderstood.â Valentino smiled and took a seat to scroll on his phone as the others left. He knew to take an extra long time so that by the time Alastor got to the table, the food would be nice and cold. When Alastor was finally taken to the bathroom for his five minutes (yes, it was timed) of privacy, he wasted no time blowing his nose and letting out desperate sneezes into the rough toilet paper.Â
He cringed as he looked at his appearance in the mirror. He really didnât look well at all. His nose and cheeks were turning red. Alastor grimaced. He knew what he had to do.Â
He was escorted to the kitchen where a meager breakfast was waiting for him. Not that he wanted it anyway. He could only choke down a few bites this time around before he was absolutely done. He handed over his full plate to Kitty.
âThat was vile, Vox. Absolutely disgusting.â Alastor started, earning an irritated eye twitch in return.Â
âThis isnât a five star restaurant you ungrateful little prick. So sorry we didnât look for a corpse for you.â Was Voxâs reply.Â
âA corpse would certainly have more flavor than that garbage you call food. I could give you directions to the nearest cemetery if youâd like.â
Vox stared at Alastor in what looked like deep thought. Vox was almost going to say something when Alastor beat him to it.
âDonât tell me I already hurt your feelings today. I know you want to impress me so badly but you simply donât stand a chance.â
Vox sighed as he tied Alastor back to the chair, a little tighter than before. Any thoughts on his mind were now long gone.
âDonât be such a bitch today.â Vox said, his voice quieter than before. âI have some online meetings later and I donât need you fucking them up.â
âOoo, big scary tough meetings! From the comfort of your own office, that is. Tell me, Vox. Are you too afraid to face these oh so important people in person? Is that why you hide behind your silly little screens?â
âCould say the same about your stupid little radio shows. Too scared to show your face to the public, hm?â
âAt least my face is worth showing to the public in the first place.âÂ
âOh yeah? Not for long.â Vox dug in his pocket and forced the frown mask onto Alastorâs face. At least he didnât hang around his face for too long; too eager to stand back and admire his work.
âIf youâre gonna be a brat and not shut the fuck up when I tell you to, then this is what weâre gonna do. I have too much to do today to deal with your petty little comments.â
Thank God.
With his face now covered, Alastor could relax a bit. For once he was happy to be put in his place. His face was safely concealed and he now had a legitimate reason to not speak. He was wheeled to Voxâs office and parked in his usual spot where he could try to discreetly rest in his chair.
Aside from the sounds of the keyboard clacking and mouse clicking, it was otherwise silent. Alastor was very grateful for this. The lack of caffeine on top of being sick made his head want to explode.Â
Not long into Voxâs first meeting did a problem begin to arise. The fabric covering Alastorâs face was making him sniffle like crazy. It was admittedly hard to breathe in the first place through the thick cloth even without a stuffy nose, and now every breath was devoted to trying to keep himself together.
Alastor couldnât help but sneeze helplessly into the mask, a wet spot forming at the front. He cringed. Maybe he hadnât completely thought this through.Â
Vox popped on the mute button and looked over in disgust.
âShut the fuck up Alastor. I have that mask on you for a reason.â He unmuted and returned to his meeting.
The fit was over for now, leaving Alastor to sniffle quietly as the mess soaked the mask. He was so ready for this all to be over with already. Now that he thought about it, shouldnât he have been granted immunity from all things illness if he was the strongest sinner in Hell? Heâd have a strong word with Rosie once this was all said and done.Â
He felt like he needed to cough, but obviously wouldnât allow himself to. His chest ached until it forced its way out, that too muffled into the mask. Vox looked over again, this time a peculiar expression on his face. Alastor glared as if daring him to say something until Vox returned his attention once again to whoever it was he was talking to.Â
The meetings dragged on and on, Alastor feeling steadily worse with each one. His muscles ached down to his bones and he was shaking again. He was sure his eyes looked dull and glassy from above the mask. Thankfully Vox was much too self absorbed to notice.Â
âThey LOVE me, Al! They fucking love me!â Vox stood from his desk in a manic high, his eye swirling.Â
Alastor startled. He had zoned out, the world around him fuzzy.
âThat could NOT have gone any better! Itâs amazing what I can accomplish without you in the way! Now do you see any of the other Vees in here with me? Oh, you donât? See! I can do things on my own!â
Vox started moving towards the chair.
Donât you fucking do it you creep.Â
âI do have to give you some credit though. Ever since I captured you Voxtek has exploded in ratings.âÂ
Please donât.
Alastor tried to get away from the charismatic hands reaching for his shoulders. Heâd already been pushing it close earlier with Vox getting the mask on but the risk had been worth it. This however would definitely give his fever away, no doubt about it.
âI still wonder what made you even make a deal like this to start with but who the fuck cares! Iâm fucking famous!â
Alastor scooted back in his chair, but it was too late. Voxâs hands had already met his shoulders. Alastor froze as Vox stopped in his tracks.
âWait. Am I crazy?â Vox grabbed Alastorâs arm and sure enough, the heat was consistent.Â
âVery. What's your point?âÂ
Glitchy radio static sounded as Vox removed the mask and laid a hand on his forehead.
âWhat the - youâre hot? Why are you so hot?âÂ
Alastor sharpened his grin. âFeeling forward today, arenât we Vox?âÂ
Vox flushed blue, a fun contrast to Alastorâs own red flush. âThatâs not what I meant, you idiot! I mean youâreâŚhot.â
âIt would seem as though your hands are quite cold.âÂ
Vox shook his head as his hand migrated to Alastorâs jawline, studying his face closely. âNo no. You are absolutely burning up. And youâŚare you pale? How the fuck is that even possible?â
âMust you insist on feeling up my entire body? If you really insist, they make special devices that tell peopleâs temperature without having to grope them.âÂ
Alastor immediately regretted saying this when he saw Voxâs face light up.
âThatâs actually not a bad idea.â Vox muttered. âIâll be right back. Donât go anywhere. HA! Not like you can anyway!â
Fuck. This really, really wasnât good. Vox saw everything that even slightly resembled being human as a weakness. Even the first time that Alastor had asked for a bathroom break was a twenty minute long session of laughter and mocking. And now the freak was basically just served prime material for exploitation on a steaming silver platter.
Think Alastor, think!
There was no way that the number of the thermometer would be anywhere close to normal. What could be a good reason for that? A quirk of being based on a deer? What even was a normal temperature for a deer anyway? Theyâre mammals so it would be the same, right?
With his eyes closed, Alastor recognized the shuffle of familiar footsteps approaching him. But before he could even open them and talk his way out of this, he felt something cold and cylinder being shoved into his mouth. He immediately spit it out.
âWhat the fuck are you doing now?â Alastor snapped.
âWhat does it look like? Iâm trying to take your temperature!âÂ
âWell donât!â
Vox picked up the thermometer off the ground and crossed his arms. âOr youâll what? Hm?âÂ
Trying to think of a reasonable threat through a headache proved to be impossible. The best Alastor could muster was a scowl.
Vox smirked. âThatâs what I thought. Now open your mouth and no, Iâm not cleaning it first. Itâs your own damn fault the thermometer is covered in floor germs now.â
So in went the thermometer, Voxâs hand firmly holding it in place. Alastor felt his face heat up even more. He could only imagine what he looked like right now. And it was about to get worse. Of all the times for his nose to itch.
âHow muchâŚhh - l-longer?â Alastor asked with half lidded eyes, his consonants muffled from the device.
Vox waved a finger. âAh ah ah. No talking âtil itâs done.â
Alastor held his breath until the shrill of the beep signaled it was done. As soon as Vox took it out, Alastor just barely aimed towards his lap in time.
âHhhâESSHuhh!â
Vox visibility recoiled. âReal classy. My hand was right fucking there! You couldnât have waited like three fucking seconds? God! Now letâs see,â his expression dropped. âFuck you Al. Itâs 101 even.â
Oh. Oh. That explained why he felt so shit. Alastor watched intently as Vox turned things over in his head.Â
âI thought you seemed kind of off earlierâŚâ Vox trailed off, eyes darting to the side. If Alastor hadnât known any better, he would have sworn Vox looked genuinely guilty.Â
âEhâkesshhchh! EkkâhSHHH!â At least this time Alastor had the decency to turn his head over his shoulder. For a cannibalistic serial killer, he did at least live by some manners. He sniffled thickly, panic in his eyes at the mess coming down with nothing to hide it.Â
âOkay, gross. I canât watch this shit anymore.â Vox moved swiftly to untie the restraints. He shoved a tissue box from his desk in Alastorâs lap and sighed. âWell donât just stare at them! Iâd rather my hostage not snot all over himself. It looks bad.â
Alastor begrudgingly complied, his eyes fluttering shut once again into the crumpled up pile in his hands. âHhâeshhmphh!âÂ
âWow. You are sick. No wonderâŚâ Vox leaned against his desk in intense thought, his claws tapping against the wood. âWhat all is wrong?â
âPardon?âÂ
âLike your symptoms.â
âNeed I remind you that - â Â
âThat talking isnât a part of the deal and blah blah blah Iâm the great all powerful Radio Demon. We go through this every fucking day. I canât help you if you donât actually tell me whatâs wrong.â
âDo you really think that Iâd believe you actually want to help me and that this isnât a ploy to think of more ways to torture me?â
âMaybe I was going to take pity on you and offer you an actual bed. A reprieve if you will. Iâm supposed to keep you alive, not let you keel over from some stupid flu.â Vox grinned cruelly. âOr if itâs really not that bad, I can tie you back up and we can resume our activities as if nothingâs wrong. Your choice.â
â...â
â...â
âItâs just some stupid flu. You said so yourself.â Alastor grumbled.
âItâs just a simple question.â
âOne that I am under no obligation to answer.â
âWhy are you being such a shit? Iâm trying to actually do something nice for you for once and you canât even cooperate for thirty fucking seconds!â
The yelling was like an icepick in Alastorâs ears. He winced and saw Voxâs features soften, much to his own surprise. âFine. If you really want to know, I have a terrible headache that you most certainly are not helping with.â
âOkay. Itâs a start.â Vox said slowly, deciding to let the jab roll over his shoulders this time. âWell, staying here and yelling at me isnât going to fix anything.â
âFix it? No. Make me feel better? Perhaps.â
âWhat will make you actually feel better is rest. Itâs not as fun with you already suffering from something else. Itâs too easy.â
âSuffering is a very strong word to describe whatâs merely a mild illness.â
âCall it whatever the fuck you want to call it. You still need to be in bed.â Vox sighed as if selling his own soul on purpose. âGet up. Letâs get this shit over with.â
Of course Alastor didnât move.
âNow.â
âNo.â
âAnd you said Iâm giving you a headache? Get the fuck up Alastor!â Long black cords reached out to grab the deer and quite literally drag him down the hall to the bedroom - Voxâs bedroom.Â
âCanât I have my own bed?â Damn his pride at this point. Alastor was begging, squirming against the wires carrying him into the bed of debauchery that most certainly had not been washed up to Alastorâs standards. Even being strapped to that chair again sounded like a better fate.Â
âYou really think I would let you out of my sight like that? How else am I supposed to keep an eye on you?âÂ
Alastor thought for a moment. âYou seem to have forgotten that thereâs already a second occupant that resides in this bed. What kind of guest would I be to kick his host out of his own bed?â
âHeh. Nice try. Val said he wonât be back from the studio until tomorrow. But come on! Doesnât that feel better than the chair?â
Once the feelings of grossness melted away, Alastor did have to admit to himself that the soft mattress was worlds better than that uncomfortable cursed office chair. It had been so long that heâd almost forgotten what a real bed felt like. His achy stiff legs nearly jumped for joy at getting to stretch out. He wondered if he would have been granted this luxury earlier in the course of his illness if only he had said something sooner.
âThatâs what I thought. Now can I trust you to lay there and not cause trouble or do I need to tie you to the bed too?âÂ
Alastor paled. A chair was one thing where he at least had some mobility, but a whole bed? He quickly nodded, only to bury his face into his elbow without warning. âEsshuhhh!â
âTch. Who am I kidding? Youâre no threat. Youâre absolutely pathetic right now.â
Vox spun around on his heel with a smug smile. He could feel the glaring red eyes digging a hole into his back, but simply waved a dismissive hand as he shut off the lights and excused himself out of the room.
With the TV bastard gone again, Alastor could finally try to get comfortable. Laying completely flat was hurting his sinuses, so he stacked the pillows so he was sleeping at least somewhat upright. If only he had an extra blanket or three. He was freezing even under the thick duvet.Â
Despite his discomfort, it didnât take long to fall into a deep restorative sleep.
~
âAlastorâŚwake upâŚAl.â
Sharp claws were gently shaking Alastorâs overly warm shoulder. Alastor refused to open his eyes. This was the best sleep he had gotten in weeks and it still couldnât have been for very long given how exhausted he still felt.Â
âYou have to wake up. I have something for you.â
Through barely open eyes, Alastor made out a very worried looking Vox standing over him with a plastic bag in hand.Â
âIâm sure it can wait until after Iâve slept.â Alastorâs voice was low and hoarse, groggy with sleep, yet still commanding in its own way.
For some reason Vox didnât seem to want to accept this as an answer. So persistent in getting him to open up his mouth and take a capful of something thick, syrupy, and nasty. But if taking it would mean that he would be left alone to properly nap, Alastor did as told and rolled back over on his other side to snore, as if obnoxiously on purpose. In the distance Vox was saying something else before sighing and stomping away.
~
The room was pitch black aside from a soft red glow attempting to enter through the closed window shades. Alastor sat up sharply, a damp wash cloth falling off of his forehead into his lap. He noticed extra weight on top of him and feared it was a form of restraints until he realized it was just extra blankets. As nice as it may be, a deep feeling of regret settled into his stomach as he realized the circumstances that brought him to this cursed bed in the first place.
Congested coughs began to rip out of his painfully dry and sore throat, painful and impossible to stop. Alastor startled out of his skin when Vox appeared out of seemingly nowhere to nudge a glass of water into his hands and rub between his shoulder blades.Â
âGeez. Breathe Al.âÂ
Alastor shifted away from the hand on his back, not even completely sure where Vox was or where the hell he had come from. The water tasted heavenly and was too irresistible to not down it all. He had several questions but instead sneezed into the blankets.
âHhâesSHHHhuhhh!âÂ
âGod, use the tissues. Theyâre there for a reason.â Vox popped on the lamp to reveal the nightstand covered in a tissue box, throat lozenges, a sports drinkâŚin fact, it looked like a whole pharmacy exploded.Â
âThis stuff wasnât cheap you know, so you better learn to appreciate this.â Vox added.
You shouldnât have. No really, you shouldnât have.Â
âI s-I suppose-â The voice that came out of Alastor was hoarse, barely there, breaking with every syllable.Â
Vox raised an amused eyebrow. Alastor coughed harshly again.Â
âI suppose youâve had your fun. Now letâsâŚfuck!â His voice was quiet before completely dissolving away.Â
âNow letâs fuck??âÂ
Alastor shook his head in a frenzy. Words couldnât come out, only rough squeaks. He desperately tried to emit his voice into a nearby device but even that was filled with too much glitchy static to be understood.Â
âNo. Fucking. WAY!â Vox burst into over the top laughter that had Alastor admittedly jealous that he was even able to make such loud noise. âIf only I got that on video! This is way too fucking good! Iâve genuinely prayed before for you to not be able to talk and you FINALLY lost your voice!â
This fell on completely flat ears.Â
âMaybe you wouldnât have lost it if you hadnât run your damn mouth so much earlier! I almost feel bad for you - except I don't!â
Alastor looked around to see if there was a conveniently placed notepad and pen. Of course there wasnât. That would simply be too damn easy. He mimed the action of writing.Â
âIâm sorry, what is it you want? Youâll have to speak up. Oh wait! You canât!â Vox fell into even more arrogant laughter.Â
Even as a human, Alastor was nothing without his voice. The whole reason heâd even taken a liking to hot tea in the first place was to keep his voice pristinely clear for his shows. Now in his afterlife, he thought his radio powers would always grant him a voice regardless of the circumstances.Â
Then again, this was hell after all.
âHhâISSHHHUH! Iâtzzchh! Eâeskhewww!â Alastor frantically searched for the tissues, loathing the judgmental eyes staring him down as he blew his nose. The worst part about this wasnât even the illness; it was the freaking audience practically salivating at his every display. Only this time, the smirk watching him turned into a genuine frown.
âThis is getting sad, even for you.â
There was no response. There couldnât be.Â
âAt the very least, you need to eat something. You slept through lunch and you hardly ate anything before that.â
Alastor glanced at the clock. It was a little after 8 pm, although it didnât feel like it at all. He felt like he had slept for both twenty minutes and twenty years at the same time.Â
âDonât worry. Youâll still sleep all night once you take the next dose of meds. Itâs almost time for them but you canât keep taking them on an empty stomach. I tried to get you to eat earlier but someone wanted to be difficult and sleep instead.â
Food did admittedly sound good. Not that Alastor would (or could) let Vox know that. His hopeful expression must have given him away though because Vox was quickly shuffling out of the room with a triumphant smile.
That bastard has to win everything, doesnât he?
Much to Alastorâs surprise, he wasnât brought the shitty scraps that they had been feeding him. It looked to be a proper meal - a sandwich and bowl of soup accompanied by a steaming mug. Alastor tried to smell the food to see if anything was off, but his nose was much too blocked.Â
If it was poisoned, Alastor didnât even care. The tea was a wonderful blend of citrus and honey that coated his aching throat with every sip. The food was even better, and he quickly began eating as if Vox would take it away (which wasnât that far-fetched of a fear, now that Alastor thought about it).
âDonât get used to this.â Vox warned. Alastor tried to hide his enthusiasm, but he couldnât help it. His smile was finally real. This was the best heâd felt in days, and that was saying a lot given how he still didnât feel anywhere close to well. The tray was empty by the time he was done.
âAw, looks like someone was hungry. My little pet loves his gourmet food, doesnât he?âÂ
Total silence except for Alastor narrowing his eyes. Vox seemed disappointed.
âUh, right. Canât talk.â Vox reached for the bottle labeled âPMâ and started clawing off the wrapper. âGuess you can take the meds now.â
Only Alastor didnât readily accept the capful of meds being held out to him.
âPlease donât put up a fight over the medicine too.â Vox begged, exasperated. Â
Alastor held up a finger, his eyes closing. âHuhâtschhh!â He waited. âIsshhuuu!â
âYou done?â
Alastor paused, sniffled. Shrugged.
Vox couldnât help but find the whole action absolutely adorable, curse it all. Alastor drank it quickly before sneezing again for the umpteenth time.
âHâgghISCHEWW!â
âFigured you werenât done.â Vox mused, passing over a handful of tissues. Alastor broke off into another harsh coughing fit after blowing his nose.
âIâd feel bad for you if you werenât such a dick.â
Alastor laid back down with his back facing Vox.
âSo rude after Iâve been so gracious towards you.â
Nothing.Â
Vox knew he wasnât being ignored on purpose, but it certainly still felt that way. He kicked his legs up on the bed to get comfortable and turned the lamp off, admittedly a bit bored.
It didnât take long for the cough syrup to work its way through Alastorâs body and make every muscle feel like jelly. He swore he felt something playing with his ears, but he felt too out of it to do anything about it. Soon he was pulled into the darkness.
~
Valentino returned home from the studio the next morning. He couldnât wait to collapse into bed and not move until noon. As fun as the late film sessions were for him, they definitely messed up his sleep schedule. Unfortunately his plans were derailed when he couldnât even get into his own freaking bedroom.
âWhat the - why is this door locked?â Valentino knocked on the door. âVox! You in there jerking off or something? Without me?âÂ
Vox emerged into the doorway, cracking the door behind him to not let any light in. âShh! Didnât you get my text? Youâll have to sleep somewhere else today. Alastorâs using our bed and heâll be there for a while.â
âReally? Like, our Alastor?â Curiously, Valentino pushed his way into the room to see the lump sprawled amongst the covers. He turned to his partner with a devious grin.
âWhat do we have here? You finally got that bitch in your bed? Please tell me you filmed it!â
Vox gritted his teeth. âYes, heâs in bed but not like that.â
âDonât be modest! We all know youâve been wanting to fuck him for like decades now! Howâd it go? Who topped? Oh what am I saying? I know it was you!â Valentino reached out a hand to crawl up Voxâs chest, only for it to be rudely shoved away.
âWould you shut the fuck up and keep it down?âÂ
Valentino retracted his hand as if a dog had just lashed out at him. âThe fuckâs your problem?âÂ
âFor your information, heâs sick.â
âAww, pobrecito.â Valentino rolled his eyes. âWho gives a shit? He shouldnât be in our bed then!â
âMY bed.â Vox corrected. âYou just sleep there too.â
âWhy you little - pinche pendejo! Velvette! Get in here!â Valentino called out.Â
âI thought I told you to be quiet!â Vox growled.
Soon Velvette came in, head engrossed in her phone. âWhat is it, love? This better be good. Iâm about to go live.â
âTell Vox to get that snot filled germ factory out of MY side of the bed!â Valentino pointed to the scene.
âOoo, this is good!â Velvette sped past Valentino, getting her phone ready. âWant me to make a poll of what weâll do to him? I know the chat will absolutely eat this up!â
âDid you not hear me? The fucker is in my BED!â
âOh donât be such a lilâ piss baby about it. This is way too good of an opportunity to pass up.â
âYou wouldnât be saying that if it was your clean sheets getting fucked!â
âWould you two just shut the fuck up already?â
Valentino and Velvette looked at Vox, then each other.
âYes, heâs sick. Weâve established this many times now. Heâs fucking miserable and you assholes marching in here yelling isnât helping at all. So if youâre not going to be of any use, then get the fuck out.â
There was a moment of silence before Velvette broke out into a flurry of giggles. âFor a second there Vox, I thought you were being serious this time.âÂ
âI am serious,â Vox stepped forward to push her phone away, his serious expression unchanged. âPut this away and leave. You too Val.â
âWhatâs with you? Donât tell me you actually care about making sure the little fawn gets his precious rest.â Valentino said.Â
Vox hesitated, hands going into his pockets. âHeâs my hostage and Iâll deal with him my way.â He finally stated.
Velvette and Valentino shared a knowing glance.
âFine. If heâs all yours, then you can have fun wiping his nose today or whatever the fuck it is youâre doing.â Velvette said.Â
âWe wonât get in your way at all.â Valentino added with a fake smile.
With that, the two had stomped off, no doubt on their way to complain to each other. But Vox didnât even care. He stepped back in the room to see Alastor still fast asleep. Breathing fast through congested snores, ears pinned back and smile trying to fall. More meds would be in order later.
Vox hated the Radio Demon. But he hated to see him like this even more.
This fic of Alastor being sick in the chair has taken over my life...I can't wait for it to be done and posted but I'm having so much fun writing it ^_^
Bean!! Hi, bean!! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸ Oh, I GUESS if you insist, I can yap about my TV and deer shapes~ :D
Okay I rambled so long that this is ABSOLUTELY going under a cut lol but this is A/last/or and then V/ox:
Alastorâââ
3 things I like about him:
1. God, I love his stupid little radio filter. Itâs so very Audio, and I love to see when he drops it or intensifies it in some way.
2. Heâs so silly, your honor. He has WAYYYY too much fun with that stupid chair lmaoo. He loves his own aesthetic way too much. âRadioâs not dead, but it is ending this broadcastâ DORKKK (affectionate)
3. His dynamics with other characters are SO fun!! Iâm Unwell over his dynamic with Vox throughout the years, his dynamic with Charlie is really interesting and Iâm excited to see where it goes, LOVE him with Rosie and I really hope they are/can be real friends now that his dealâs broken, obviously heâs amazing with Niffty, heâs super fun with Lucifer, heâs fun with Husk, heâs fun with Pentious, heâs fun with Angel, heâs fun with Vaggi, heâs fun with Carmillaâhe just has really fun dynamics with Everyone and I love seeing him interact with them
3 snz/adjacent hcs:
1. Hates loud noises when sick. Everyone shut up. He has a headache. Leave him alone and be quiet. His big fwuffy ears are a bit sensitive.
2. Itâs kinda funny to give him dog allergies due to how he died LMAOO like clearly Hell has a bit of a sense of humor with how his body ended up anyway, though he couldâve had them already anyway
3. Pissed off about congestion/a runny nose fucking up his diction. Rule #1 of being a radio host is to speak clearly lol and now his words are all muddled?? In a way thatâs kinda pitiful?? Hates it.
3 snz/adjacent prompts or scenarios:
1. Alastor is sick and loses his voice. He is, to put it lightly, Not Very Pleased with that. He tries to hide it from everyone (hotel cast, Husk and/or Niffty in the past, Rosie at any point in the timeline, Vox in the past or present) for as long as possible and tries to fix it ASAP. Inevitably, someone finds out.
2. While heâs Voxâs prisoner in s2, he gets sick in some stupid way and itâs unintentionally Voxâs fault. E.g. Vox dunks him in SHOK.WAVâs tank (and barely pulls him out before SHOK chomps him because that is a FAST shark-dog-thing), Vox sets up a carnival style Dunk The Radio Demon dunk tank, takes him with him to do things around town while itâs raining and lets him get soaked in the rain (but sometimes/mostly IS holding an umbrella over the both of them because in my mind thatâs like the smoothie date okay I feel like Vox would be 𼰠about sharing an umbrella with him), etc. Fluffy deer is left to air dry and catches cold. Proceeds to try to hide it but inevitably fails. Vox mocks him about it but also takes better care of him than Vox takes care of himself. Again like the smoothie date, Vox likes the sort of domesticity of taking care of him. Alternatively OR additionally, Vox actively tries to make Al sicker and hinder his recovery, e.g. by sleep depriving him, making him cold, dunking him in his shark tank, etc.
3. Alastor gets sick and when Rosie clocks him (immediately, mind you), she wants to play house about it with her favorite pet lol. She wants to dress him up in cute pajamas, make him soup and tea and home remedies she swears by, tease him and call him cute, bless every sneeze, give him conjured handkerchiefs or tissue boxes, feel him for fever, check his fever more thoroughly with an old alcohol thermometer and fuss over how itâs gone up a little, etc. Alastor is furious that he has to go through all this patronization, but also just a LITTLE bit deep down, he does kind of like the company, the soup and tea ARE delicious, and maybe itâs just a little bit nice to have someone be sweet to him when he doesnât let anyone in. Could be a little softened up by fever too. One could do Radiorose about this too or alternatively even sort of a Mamaâs Boy Alastor take where heâs sick and being fussed over by Rosie kinda is nice because it reminds him of when he was a kid.
4. Those were Oops All Illness, so hereâs a bonus one. Alastorâs at an overlord meeting but heâs allergic/sensitive to something there, e.g. someoneâs perfume (lavender oil?), flowers on the table or in someoneâs hair, maybe even another sinner themself (dog?), the place theyâre meeting could be dusty, etc. This could possibly be intentional like Vox (between No Friends In Hell and Al disappearing for seven years) bringing a lavender-heavy bouquet of flowers as a congratulatory gift for Rosie or Carmilla about some recent accomplishment of theirs, knowing damn well itâll get to Al. Alternatively, Rosie could intentionally wear/bring something that she knows will set him off as a form of punishing her pet for something slightly disobedient he did, and she usually sits with him at overlord meetings so heâs kind of stuck there. Regardless of intention, he tries to keep it together, participate if necessary, and get out of there ASAP. If it IS intentional though, maybe that person drags out the meeting and makes sure the topic is actually very relevant for Alastorâs side of things so he has to stay longer.
Voxâââ
3 things I like about him: Nothing.
1. Heâs so goddamn soggy/desperate for approval and itâs far too endearing to me lmaoo. Like awgwgwghh the flashback we get of The Offer incident, heâs soooo head over heels for Alast/or and đđđ the antennas drooping like sad puppy dog ears and big big round eyes and screen filled with static omfg my poor babyyy. Thereâs one moment from an interview thatâs rent free for me where Viv says that was his Most Vulnerable Moment Ever and that he was letting down walls heâd had even when he was alive and, you see, Iâm Normal about vulnerability, so I reacted very normally to those statements and think about it a normal amount of times over the last eight months.
And in s1 Stayed Gone đśdid anybody miss him?? Did anybody even notice??đś THEYâRE ENEMIES AND HE M I S S E D HIM SO BAD. S2 he runs around basically going Al Al look at this look at that this is impressive right this is worth your respect and approval right donât you wish you could have me I mean my big fancy villain tower and stuff. Al says âI respected youâ about 70 YEARS AGO and Vox goes from angrily snarling like a fucking dog (because heâs a LOSER) to đ´__đ´ because Al said he respected him 70 GODDAMN YEARS AGO. And in s2 finale his reaction to Al telling Char/lie to say that Vox is the strongest in hell aND HE CALLS VOX HIS FRIEND THERE AND AGAIN VOX JUST GOES đ´__đ´ JAW DROPPED BECAUSE AL CALLED HIM HIS FRIEND AND SAID HE WAS ACTUALLY STRONG/CAPABLE I just idk man heâs so desperate for approvalâtbf in general too but ESPECIALLY for Al that Iâm unfortunately extremely endeared anyway im gonna keep the other answers shorter LMAO
2. I like his character design for pretty much any canon look or era. Very shaped! I could be specific but I pretty much like all of it, especially for s2 where thereâs some slight changes to animation.
3. I love his stupid TV gimmick and electricity and tech abilities. S2 in particular I really like how they animate the electricity! I love that when he gets upset itâs so obvious because thereâs static, glitching in voice (voice distortions are so Audio!!) and body, electricity, nearby screens are affected, etc.âit makes it so fun to see him get his shit absolutely rocked and then just be displaying TV color bars lmao. And again his antennas work like dog ears!!!! Theyâre emotive!!!
3 snz/adjacent hcs:
1. If he has any internal sensors that could measure his temperature, for instance, they glitch the absolute hell out when he IS feverish so theyâre kinda useless.
2. Heavy sleeper when sick but also tends to fall asleep at his desk or in his like surveillance monitor room, and Val can carry him to bed without waking him any more than maybe stirring a bit.
3. Insecure when sick but tries to pretend heâs not. Heâs Pathetic and Weak right now and Perfection Is Their Brand and thatâs!! Bad!! Thatâs why Al left him, blah blah such a rug pull moment that maybe he doubts his other relationships and is worried deep down that theyâll end. So, he doesnât want Val and Vel to see him Weak but while heâd never say it he craves their approval and closeness more like this.
4. All those hcs were illness, so bonus one to say Mr. Newer Bigger Brighter being allergic to dust in life (even before possible TV-related problems lol) would be very fitting because he likes things new and modern and his aesthetic is very clean (in Hell. Vincentâs cult scene is Not Clean lmao)
3 snz/adjacent prompts or scenarios:
1. Vox gets sick while he still has Al as a prisoner. While Al mocks the hell out of him about it, he also tries to bait him into taking care of himself because he needs Vox to be getting stronger and progressing his power grab so that Al can be free from his deal. So, Vox being slowed down by illness is unideal, especially if heâs Really sick. Al doesnât want the other Vees to caretake because he wants Vox isolated, so he plays on his insecurities and growing god complex to get him to take care of himself and keep his distanceâplus, if this is early enough in the arc, Vox might still be grounded enough to Not Want To Get Them Sick because he care them. 𼺠One version of this is that he DOES end up really sick and Val and Vel have to take care of himself because he Canât himself and Alâs certainly too tied up to do so lol
2. Poor little baby Box!Vox discovers he is BADDD with dust in his new demonic body. Mayyybe around Al and/or Rosie? 𼺠Al has a lot of vintage stuff that could be collecting dust or they could even go to some antiques store or something together
3. At any point in the timeline since he got close/together with Val, Vox gets sick or absolutely destroyed by allergies/other irritants and tries so hard to save face in any way he can, but Val and Vel (if sheâs Down There by now) are⌠yeah, teasing him, but itâs more fond than anything? And they seem concerned or try to help? Even though heâs Weak and Embarrassing right now?? Wild. Heals just the tiiiniest bit some of the emotional wounds Al gave him
Thinking about Alastor showing up to Rosieâs with a cold. He tries to reschedule but wonât give the reason (somehow maybe with a letter? He canât call because sheâd immediately hear how bad he sounds). He just says something came up. Rosie responds with something along the lines of âit isnât up to you. I need to see you today and unless you have a good reason then I expect to see you here sharply. At the very least you could have graced me with an actual phone call.â
Maybe Alastor had already rescheduled before for something else and she was lenient then as a one time thing. Maybe she needs to remind him that things need to be done on HER terms, that he canât just do whatever he wants when itâs convenient for him
So Alastor shows up feeling like shit and heâs losing his voice, grumbles âletâs get this over with quick.â Rosie of course is all like âwhy didnât you just TELL me you were sick my deer, you sound dreadful.â To the outside it looks like the classic âIâm concerned for your health, donât have so much pride. You can always reschedule if youâre not feeling wellâ but itâs really her putting him in his place with gentle caretaking.
Sheâs feeling his forehead and she knows he hates the touching. Maybe he doesnât even have a fever but sheâs searching for a thermometer anyway, and of course sheâs making a big deal about it being the old mercury ones because Alastor surely doesnât like the new electronic ones. She just wants him to have to not talk for a few minutes while it reads.
And then every time he does try to speak, sheâs shhâing him to rest his voice, youâre going to lose it completely deer, here write on this notepad. Passing him the tissue box and saying âjust take the whole box, you sound like you need it.â Insisting he not be shy and not step out to blow his nose. Saying bless you every single damn time he sneezes even though he has said multiple times not to. Pouring cold meds into a spoon and giving it to Alastor âjust like mama, rightâ and he is just like đđđ
Vox has rather unusual ways of trying to make his captive talk.
Or 2k of Alastor being forced to sneeze in his chair because I've lost control of my life
**Non-con, dark themes, mess**
Some of this is inspired by @onetrickponi 's art so check it out if you haven't already!
âI have ways of making you talk, you know.â
Alastor rolled his eyes, his smug grin untouched by what should have been a terrifying threat to anyone tied to a chair. His smile quickly gave way to chuckles. âOh, Iâm sure you do~â
âUh yeah, I TOTALLY do - âÂ
âWhat are you going to do? Electrocute me? Starve me? Sleep deprive me? Oh wait. Youâve already been doing all of that and look at how little it has accomplished.â Alastor sing-songed, his head sweetly turned to its side.
âWell yeah. We gotta start with the basics. Gotta get you weak first.â Vox was leaning against the wall, arms crossed with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. One ankle casually crossed the other. Relaxed. He very much enjoyed standing over his little red prize where the only injury he risked facing was from words - something of which Alastor was very much good at.Â
âWhereâd you read that? Your little âhow to torture someone for the first timeâ handbook?â
Vox raised an eyebrow. âDo you really think this is my first time with a captive?â
âAnd do you really think this is my first time being interrogated? Iâve had it all done to me. I can even give you some suggestions if youâd like. It sounds like you need them.â Alastor pretended to think, counting on his fingers from beneath the cables. âLetâs seeâŚthereâs waterboarding. Sensory deprivation. You could blackmail me. Or you could be basic like you said and just shine a bright light in my face. Or - â
âFuck! Just stop talking! Literally shut the fuck up!â If Vox had the ability to get a true headache, he would have long had one by now.
âIâm confused. I thought you WANTED me to talk? So which one is it?â Alastor started to spin around in his chair gleefully.
âI knew I shouldnât have given him the one with the damn wheels.â Vox thought to himself. Tense hands stopped the chair in its tracks, one on each arm rest to force Alastor to look him in the eye. A quiet static noise escaped from Alastor at their sudden proximity.
âI want you to tell me what your plan is.âÂ
Despite his discomfort, Alastor maintained the gaze. âNeed I remind you that that wasnât part of our deal? I donât have to tell you anything.âÂ
âAlastor, you have ten fucking seconds to tell me what youâre up to or I will force the information out of you myself.â
âIs that a threat?â
Vox threw his hands in the air. âItâs BEEN a threat! All fucking day! Where the fuck have you been?â
Alastor was laughing again. Spinning in circles. The little shit.Â
Vox finally stood up sharply. âYou know what? That is IT.â
Alastor genuinely couldnât stop laughing as Vox left the room. It was all too easy, too fucking good to be true. His laughs only stopped when Vox came back out of pure confusion. In Voxâs hand was a feather duster of all things.Â
âDonât you have people for that?â Alastor asked.
âWhat do you mean?â Vox felt through the feathers, a scrutinizing look on his face.
âPeople to clean for you. Donât tell me the great all powerful media overlord Vox has to do his own domestic housework.âÂ
That pulled a soft laugh out of Vox. It was quite the image. âNo and Iâm so glad for that. Do you have any idea how dusty TV sets get?â
âAs a matter of fact, I donât.â
Vox seemed to have found what he was looking for. He plucked a feather, an evil look in his eyes that had Alastor more perplexed than scared.
âAnd just what do you plan to do with that?â
âSomething that Iâm glad canât be done to me in return. There are certain benefits to having a screen for a face. Certain afflictions that I no longer have to deal with.â As Vox got closer and closer to Alastorâs face, another uproar of angry static filled the air.Â
Vox ran the feather underneath Alastorâs nose, causing it to twitch involuntarily.Â
âWhat the actual fuck are trying to do?â Alastor couldnât help but blurt out. Heâd always known that Vox was a peculiar man but this seemed excessive.
âIs it not obvious? Iâm going to make you sneeze.â Vox said simply, casually, swiping the feather back and forth several times before inserting it into one nostril.
âThatâs it? Really?â Alastor was rarely surprised, and he was very surprised right now. âTell me Vox. How is that supposed to make one talk? Itâs just sneezing, a minor annoyance at best. And besides, I really donât even think this will work.â
âIâll make sure it does. Trust me,â Voxâs voice had a growling quality in it as he guided the feather further up. He twisted it maddeningly slowly. âYouâll talk.â
Alastor coughed reflexively, his head squirming a bit at the foreign ticklish object. It didnât tickle in a sneeze kind of way but in a primal âget this thing away from meâ way.
The feather was fluffy and shook off dust particles that made Alastorâs sinuses itch. Alastor was never one to be especially sensitive to dust even when alive. One simply didnât have a home full of antique clutter and thick carpeted rugs if it bugged allergies. But when it was quite literally forced into his nose, Alastor couldnât help but sniffle compulsively.Â
That seemed to please Vox. âHaving some trouble there?â
âNot at all. I told you it wouldnât work.âÂ
Alastorâs voice wavered against the itch that kept coming back no matter how hard he tried to fight it. It was a stubborn tickle, unlike any that heâd ever experienced in both his life and afterlife. It wasnât an irritant that he could simply blow his nose to get rid of. It was intense, in his face, right there with no escape. He felt his eyes go unfocused and snapped himself back into reality.
âHuh. I must say Iâm really surprised youâve lasted this long. I shouldâve known that someone with your willpower wouldâve put up a fight, and a rather good one at that.â Vox continued to manipulate the feather, earning some tears in return. âI mean, I for one donât think I would have lasted even thirty seconds.â
âHhh...snf. Thatâs because Iâm much stronger than you are.â Alastorâs voice shook against his will. If only he could use his hands to help scratch the itch away.
âYeah, but strength can only get you so far. I canât imagine how badly it must itch. It must be driving you crazy.âÂ
Alastor gripped the armrests. âN-not gonnaâŚâ He exhaled, held his breath. âHhhh - notgonnawork!â
âI can see how bad you need to sneeze. Donât you think youâd feel better if you let it out? You canât hold it in all day. Come on Bambi.â A mocking hand petted Alastorâs knee.Â
Alastor tried to keep his eyes open but much to his horror, they were closing on their own. So much for -
âHhhâESSSHHH!âÂ
The sneeze was almost pointless in the sense that it alleviated nothing. Before Alastor could even get a glimpse at the smug look on Voxâs face, he was already snapping forward again.
The feather was drenched, making it stiff enough to keep doing its job as long as it stayed in the sensitive spot. Which even through the harsh movements, Vox had it all under control and kept the feather firmly in place.
Vox snickered. âAww, my goodness. Bless you.â
âFuck you!â Alastor rasped out, voice already thick with congestion. He was taking a deep breath before he could even try to stop it. âHuhâjeshhuhh! HiihâNkxshh! Hhâksshh!â
âVery convincing, Al.â
A pink tinge spread across Alastorâs cheeks. âHehâaschuh!!â
âHad enough?âÂ
âNope. I - Hhhhâatissh! Â Heh-ksshh! HEH!â Alastor sniffled miserably, his lungs filling with an involuntary desperate gasp for air. He felt like his body was in a panic. Much to his relief, he felt the feather slide out of his nose. âHey hey hey, I didnât say Iâd talk now.â
âI heard you loud and clear. But you made a disgusting mess of yourself. Ha! I canât WAIT for the headlines! The great Radio Demon snotting all over himself! That is unlessâŚyou stop being stubborn and tell me your stupid little plan?â
âIf itâs so stupid then why do you even want to know?â
Vox sighed. âFine. Be that way then. At least blow your nose. You sound all gross.â He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket with a smirk.Â
Alastor would rather die again than be subject to this. Then again, heâd die even sooner if the images of his face covered in snot rolled around the general public. So he decided to allow his face to be buried into the handkerchief held by his enemy. It felt admittedly nice to clear his sinuses. That is, until an overwhelming scent had him hitching again.
âHuh! Hhheh! Is that - Hâuhrsshhmmph! What did you - HHHESâSCMMMPHH!âÂ
Vox dramatically put a hand on his own head. âOh shoot! Iâm so sorry! I mustâve forgotten that certain colognes get to you.â
Despite his apologetic words, Vox kept the handkerchief in place. Alastor looked up with angry bleary eyes before falling apart again.
âYouâd think that after seventy years I wouldâve remembered every little thing about youâŚoh wait! I do!â Vox laughed, a surprisingly gentle hand rubbing up and down Alastorâs back through the fit.Â
The tips of Alastorâs ears grew hot. Heâd suffered much, much worse at the hands of much worse, so why was this proving to be the most humiliating experience of them all?Â
Vox was having the time of his life cleaning up Alastorâs face and grabbing the duster once again with the same excitement as if he was about to open yet another Christmas present.Â
It took a few tries for Alastorâs voice to work. âWhat would you even do with this information if you were to get it? Itâs not like it would change the constraints of our deal. You might as well give up.â
Vox picked out another feather. âThe only way for you to get out of this is to tell me everything I want to know. You canât talk yourself out of this.â He gave Alastor a look. âAnd besides, whatâs so bad about it? Itâs just sneezing. You said it yourself. Now hold still.â Vox grabbed Alastor by the chin, his grip surprisingly tight.
In went the feather on the opposite side. Thankfully the tickle wasnât as instant as Alastor had feared, but it didnât take long to escalate in such an already sensitive nose.Â
âHuhâshxttt! Akschkt! Isnât this - Hehâgnxt! - Isnât this getting old for you? Iâm not gonna - Hh - Iâm not - Hh-hh-hhâitssshhtt! Kschxxt! Iâm not gonna t- Huhâjddsshhuu! Heh-hehâRSHH!â
âYou might wanna save your breath, Alastor. Youâre gonna need it.â
Breathing was a necessary evil. With every breath came a sneeze, and every sneeze knocked the wind out of him. Alastor couldnât keep a straight - âHâtszschhtt!â - line of thought. But heâd never give up. Temporary discomfort would never be worse than his plans forever being messed up.Â
Alastor was a dripping mess. He felt terribly stuffed up as if he had a horrible head cold. He noticed his swollen sinuses were starting to feel numb. His nose still itched from the feather and his breath would hitch, but nothing would build up. It was as much of a relief as it was torture.
Vox too was becoming rather displeased. He removed the feather and sighed from deep within his circuitry.
âFuck.â Vox crossed his arms, back to his original stance. Disappointment took over his expression. âHowâd you manage to do that?âÂ
âI beg your pardon?â
âStop sneezing. Howâd you stop? Like genuinely asking.â
Alastor sniveled, unable to breathe at all through his nose. âI physically canât anymore. Too congested. Surely you must have known that you canât literally make someone sneeze for hours on end.â
Vox glanced to the side.
âYouâve always been so dense, Vincent.â
âWell it was worth a try, okay? I almost broke you! I could see it!â Vox pointed a finger in Alastorâs direction.
âI will admit, it was a rather creative approach. I didnât even know such a thing existed.â
Vox shrugged. âYou can find anything online nowadays.â
âAnd that is why new technology does more harm than good.âÂ
They were silent for a moment. Vox couldnât help but feel slightly guilty at how stuffy Alastor sounded. With the excitement of potentially winning now over, he realized that Alastorâs misery would take some time to truly be over.Â
The others might assume the great Radio Demon was sick; Vox knew it was evidence of a failure and that Alastor would have no qualms about bragging.
Which was why Vox moved to quickly untie the restraints. He wasnât worried over a damn stuffy nose. Not at all. His reputation was on the line.Â
âYou might as well go shower early tonight. Make it hot and steamy. Should help with the congestion.â Vox said with a blush.
âI assume Iâll be showering alone or are you going to be a creep about that too?â Alastor quickly stood to move away from Vox, ever so eager to get his personal space back.
âIâm not a creep!â Vox seemed genuinely offended at that comment. âI was just saying itâll help.â
âBut you are, though.â Alastor paused, tilted his head to the side. âIâm just wonderingâŚâ
âWhatâs that?â
âHow did you even remember what cologne Iâm allergic to?â
Vox turned red, suddenly couldnât make eye contact.
I really want to write sick/snz Husk, Alastor, or AngelâŚI just donât have the - you know - idea. So any requests or suggestions? Seriously - Iâll write it
A better person would have looked away after finding out that Al canonically carried a green embossed handkerchief when he was alive. They would have looked away after seeing those stills of him being bound and gagged by Vox with his ears back. I am not a better person.
It took all my willpower not to draw him in that formal pink suit guys, I am so excited but also why does Vox have that mask guys, like did he get it specifically made, or
Husk insists he's just hungover. Angel doesn't agree.
(In which Husk has a horrible stomach bug and Angel looks after him)
EMETO WARNING
Alright y'all! 3.8k later and this is what happened. THIS IS EMETO. I would like to write a fluffy Husk snz fic one day so if you have suggestions I'd love to hear them. I would also like to write some Angel stuff too. I want to write everythingggg. Hope you enjoy this one. I've been on a hiatus for years now so this has been so much fun.
AO3
Husk knew his limit. Well, so to speak. Calling it a limit was quite the claim when it was higher than Heaven itself. But a limit was still a limit or else heâd truly be doomed to eternal hangovers that he swore were made much worse here on purpose. Given time, Husk had formed a good grasp on how many drinks would make him feel one way or another, even if it took unfortunate trial and error.Â
Only this time heâd woken up feeling absolutely and uncharacteristically shitty. It was as if he had gone to bed completely blacked out when he only had his usual few while working the night before. Letâs seeâŚhe remembered drinking water, rummaging through the fridge for something to eat before bed, not mixing anything too crazy for himself. Heâd done everything right (minus the drinking itself).Â
Regardless of whether or not it made sense, Husk resigned to his fate with a soft groan. It was most likely the dehydration catching up to him. Figures that even those with the most experience were still bound to wake up feeling bad every now and then.Â
Husk did not want to get up. He wanted to go back to sleep and wake up as if this had never happened. If only the drinks could make themselves. Or better yet, heâd get lucky and the hotel will have collectively decided that today was a day of sobriety. A new part of redemption?
Oh how wrong he was.Â
âOf fucking course.â Husk thought to himself as he saw who was waiting for him. By the looks of it, he has been there for a while.
âCouldnât I have had just a few minutes to get my shit together first? Why the fuck are you already at my bar?â Husk grumped. Angel turned around sharply.
âAh there you are! Took you long enough! Iâm gettinâ real thirsty here.â Angel said with dramatic flair. Husk paid him no mind as he resumed his usual position behind the bar.
âExcuse me for not being up bright and early when Iâm always the last one to bed. You know bars are usually open late, right?âÂ
âI didnât realize they opened late too. Itâs far too late for a mimosa now. It wonât hit the same.â
That was weird. Husk wasnât the earliest riser by any means but he never slept in too late for a socially acceptable mimosa.
âOh poor you. You almost had to mix two whole ingredients together all by yourself. The horror.â
Angel frowned. âSheesh. Someoneâs a little grumpy this morning. Youâd think with all the extra sleep youâd actually be nice to talk to for once.â
âOh fuck off. Iâm not in the mood. What are you doing here anyway? Donât you have work today?âÂ
Angelâs face dropped a bit at the reminder. âThatâs exactly why Iâm here in the first place. Canât do what Val has planned for me today sober.â He sat up straighter when he saw Huskâs expression drop too. âBut itâs nothinâ I canât handle! Seriously! The drinks before just make it more tolerable, ya know? Might as well enjoy it a little bit, right?â
That got Husk pouring Angel a rather strong one. Fixing it couldnât be the goal. Angel downed it in one gulp, shoving the empty glass towards Husk for a refill. And again. And again.
Husk tried to ignore it this time, only for the glass to be obnoxiously held right in front of his face.
âHellooooo! Husky! Refill!â
Oh HELL no.
âChrist Angel! Iâm not here just to be your little bitch!âÂ
âHave you forgotten youâre a bartender? You are in fact here just to make me drinks. Whatâs the big deal anyway? Youâve never minded the refills before. Compliments to the chef.â
âThatâs because I normally donât immediately start my day with someone already at the bar whining in my face. You need to wait a minute and be patient for once. Iâve barely even gotten any of my ingredients ready for the day.â
Husk closed his eyes and took a breath. His head was starting to pound right in between his eyebrows. Water. Yeah, that was what he needed. He poured himself a glass, not noticing the eyes staring him down.Â
âWhatâs with you today? Youâre more grouchy than usual.â
âI already told you why Iâm annoyed with you. Maybe next time donât be so demanding and see where that takes you.â
Angel shook his head. âNah nah, itâs more than that. You seemâŚoff. Come to think of it, you look a little off too. Too much fun last night?â
âFuck you.â Husk passed over Angelâs stupid refill with a scowl. He did have a job to do, hungover or not. âThere? You happy?â
âNot really. I donât feel your customer service was all that great. And I know all about customer service, trust me!â Angel passed the drink back with a flirty wink. âMaybe we should try that again.â
âOh sure, Iâll try it again.â Husk took the glass and dumped it down the sink. âNow get the fuck away from my bar.â
âAww, whatâs wrong with Whiskers? Heâs so grumpy today. Does kitty cat need the vet? Too much catnip, hm?â Angel cooed.
âFuck you!âÂ
âYou wish.â
Huskâs growl quickly gave way to a groan, his stomach suddenly lurching. Suddenly that vet comment had some extra weight to it. He took more slow sips of the water with a wince, thankfully willing away the sudden wave of nausea into more of a weird, unsettled feeling. He reached for a bottle, clutched it in his hand. Sometimes that was the only thing that helped him when it got this bad.
âYou think you might wanna lay off the booze today?â Angelâs cocky expression had become one of concern. âYouâre really not looking too good.â
âIâm pretty sure I know what Iâm doing. I have way more experience in this than you do. Itâs nothing I canât handle. I know all the cures and by the time itâs all gone, youâll be right back here to piss me off again.â Husk gruffed. âWhich speaking of, you really need to leave. Youâre gonna be late for work if you donât hurry up and get going. Stalling ainât gonna help.â
Angel knew that Husk was right. He dragged himself off the stool and out the door, finally leaving Husk alone for good.Â
This was going to be a long day.
~
Husk tried to dissociate into his usual routine without any luck. He was trying everything, and yet he still felt bad. The alcohol didnât help. Neither did water, neither did electrolytes, not caffeine. He even tried Sprite sans vodka to settle his stomach.Â
He wondered if somehow heâd actually had more than heâd remembered. Or if someone messed with his drink. Or if heâd accidentally mixed something together he shouldnât have. He shook his head. That couldnât be it. His skills were impeccable.Â
Even worse, his legs were aching something awful with all the standing. His calves hurt the worst. If only he could have a deep tissue massage followed by an eternity in the hot tub. Maybe Charlie ought to expand the budget to include those fancy memory foam floor mats. You know, for ergonomic purposes.
Lunch should have fixed him right up, but he barely got through his usual hangover cure greasy meal before rushing to the bathroom to puke it back up. He felt relieved for a moment but by the time he returned to his work station, the aches were back.
Soon the aches had climbed to his back, then his arms, then everywhere on his body that had fur. He was feeling so miserable, but it served him right. It was his own fault. So were the shakes that had him struggling to tend the bar properly.
Husk downed another followed by as much water as he could muster.
The shakes didnât go away. He was spilling the drinks everywhere, his hands were so shaky. Fuck, since when did it get so cold in Hell? He was full on shivering now despite his thick fur, which stood up as if heâd been struck by lightning.Â
This was the weirdest hangover heâd ever had.Â
âOh Mr. Bartenderrr! Pour me a drink, will ya baby?â
And it just got worse.Â
âBack already?â Husk turned around with slumped shoulders and covered his eyes. âGod fuck, would you put some damn clothes on? Only you would be 95% naked when itâs this cold in the hotel.â
âWhat, you donât like my special outfit? I kept it on just for you!â Angel paused. âWait, cold? Whatâre talkinâ about? It feels fine in here to me. Or maybe Iâm just always that hot!â
Husk kept his eyes averted. âIâm sorry, I just canât have a serious conversation with you in fucking black lingerie. Put a damn jacket on. No shirt, no shoes, no service. I really should get a sign specifically just for you.â
âNo way. It's way too warm in here for layers.â
âNo itâs not,â As if to demonstrate his point, Husk crossed his arms with an intense shiver. âIâm fucking freezing.â He mumbled.
âHm,â Angel wasnât jumping into browsing the menu of many cocktails with ridiculous names. He studied the cat in front of him, his expression becoming troubled.
âThe fuck you lookinâ at?â
âYou feeling okay Whiskers?â
âI already told you itâs just a stupid hangover.â
âIâm not sure about that. I can tell something else is bothering ya. I see it in your ears.â
âMy what?â Huskâs already red face blushed.
âYour ears. Theyâre pointed down, just like a real cat.â Angel mused with a smile. âItâs kinda cute, actually.â
âThat canât be true!â Husk spun around to see his reflection in one of the glasses heâd just cleaned and sure enough, he saw sunken ears staring back at him. Did his ears always betray him like this?Â
It turned out his own body had another way of betraying him as well.
Husk thought he could make it to the bathroom. He could have - he should have - if his body had given him more than a few seconds to freaking prepare. Before he knew it, he was breaking out into uncontrollable retches into the nearest trash can.Â
Angel ran to Huskâs side in pure shock at the site, muttering a string of Italian curses. âOh HuskâŚâ Angel rubbed a gentle hand up and down Huskâs back, his eyes narrowing. âI really donât think this is a hangover. Youâre burning up, I can feel it.â
Husk gripped the edges of the trash can for dear life. His eyes were slammed shut to not have to see any of it. He wondered how Angel still hadnât fled the room in a dramatic panic.Â
In a move that should have gotten him killed, Angel moved his hand to Huskâs forehead. âI knew it. Youâre running a fever. Donât tell me you worked all day like this.â
âMaybeâŚthought it was just a weird hangover.â
Angel sighed. âYou are such a stubborn dumbass. Such an idiot. You shouldâve kept your ass in bed today.â
They stayed like this for a few minutes, the many tender fingers massaging circles between Huskâs shoulder blades as he caught his breath. He supposed he had put up a good fight; whatever this was seemed determined to run its course. Gentle hands petted the top of his head.
âMy poor sick kitty. Youâre going straight to bed. Barâs closed for the night.â
Husk felt his whole body heat up even more upon hearing these words, and he couldnât quite pinpoint why. He heated up even more upon realizing how close he was to Angel in fucking lingerie!
âHey Angel,â Husk finally rasped. âYouâre still not wearing any clothes.â
It was Angelâs turn to blush. âOh, rightâŚwhat I said still stands though. Come on. Niffty can clean that later.â He wrapped an arm around Huskâs shoulder to lead him up the stairs and to get his mouth washed out and pajamas on. Only except being led to his own room, Husk found himself nudged towards Angelâs. Angel immediately saw Huskâs look of apprehension.
âSomeoneâs gotta keep an eye on you tonight and you canât kick me out of my room. You didnât think I was just gonna dump you off somewhere to fend for yourself, did you? Off to my bed you go.â Angel laughed. âIf only it wasnât like this.â
âI canât stay here! Youâll get sick. We canât have this shit running through the hotel.â
Angel scoffed. âIâll have you know that I have a pretty strong immune system from my line of work.â
âI feel like youâre the type to say that but then catch a cold from being under the AC.â
âIt was one time, okay? Just - fuck. Let me help you out for once. You always do so much for me, for us.â
âWhat about Val? Youâll be miserable at work.â Husk said quietly once his blush subsided.
âThatâs for me to worry about, not you. Iâve already spent some time with you today. It is what it is at this point. So like I said, let me take care of you tonight.â
The next thing Husk knew, he was laying down next to Nuggs underneath Angelâs many fluffy blankets. Admittedly it felt nice to stretch his achy legs out, and even nicer to not have to pretend anymore. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to get warm and comfortable so he could sleep. He was almost there until he felt something plastic and pointy being nudged into his ear.Â
âGah! The fuck is that?â Husk swatted at the device.
âHold still kitty. Donât make me get out the oven mitts.â The thermometer beeped, and Angel frowned. â101.3. Hang on. Iâll be right back.â
Not like he had any other choice.Â
âSit up for me.â Angel ordered. In his hands were water, two medicine bottles, and crackers. Huskâs stomach turned at the sight.
âI really donât think thatâs such a good idea. I wonât be able to hold it down.â
âYou will if you have some of the crackers. You have to at least try. Câmon.â
Husk really couldnât say no to that pleading look in Angelâs eyes. He nibbled on the crackers and sipped the water ever so slowly before trying the pink stomach medicine and fever reducer pills. Much to his surprise, he wasnât immediately spewing like a broken fire hydrant. Still, Angel set a trash can next to the bed just in case.
Soon the shaking stopped, and Husk was able to drift off into a restless sleep.
~
âWhere the fuck am I?â Husk muttered upon waking up at some point into the night, blood roaring in his ears. At first he feared a drunken one night stand before remembering all of yesterdayâs unfortunate events. Beside him he heard Angelâs soft snores and saw that he was curled up with Nuggs. Husk smiled fondly. He looked so peaceful, so not obnoxious for once.Â
It would have been a nice moment if it werenât for the real reason Husk had woken up made itself known. His face lit up on fire, stomach contents suddenly rushing upwards. He buried his face in his hands.Â
âFuck fuck fuck fuckâŚIâm not doing this againâŚâÂ
He kicked the sweat drenched blankets off and was mere inches away from the trash can when he threw up all over the bed and floor.
âFuck! No no no no no no!âÂ
The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the wonderful scene to wake up to. Angel rubbed an eye sleepily.
âHusk? Are you - oh my fuck.âÂ
Husk was dying. Again. He was sure of it, and it was actually a good thing. The thought of making it through this filled him with even more dread.Â
âCome on - get it in the trash can - not on Nuggs - the trash can - â Panicked spider hands managed to shove the trash can in Huskâs lap. âThere you go. Fucking Christ.â
Husk buried his head into the bin until the retches became painful dry heaves. Once again Angel rubbed his back. Any dignity was completely gone at this point. Husk could never be cocky again, he was so humbled.
âIs it over?â Angel asked.Â
Husk only shrugged, not trusting for only words to come out of his mouth. They once again waited until Angel broke the silence with a soft laugh.
âYouâre determined to make so much work for Niffty, arenât you? Sheâs gonna have a field day tomorrow.âÂ
Husk sniffled, blinked away tears.
âOh donât be upset! If it makes you feel any better, Iâve puked in a manâs bed before too. Granted it was for a different reason, if you know what Iâm saying.â Silence. âOh come on, work with me here.â
âIf itâs not obvious, Iâm really not in a joking mood right now. I donât even know what to do. Iâm terrified to even move.â
âThen donât. Let me uh, let me figure something out.âÂ
With delicate precision, Angel managed to pry the soiled blankets off and down the laundry chute for them to be someone elseâs problem. He wasnât entirely sure what he was doing, but he managed to find some cleaning spray for the floor.
âYou donât have to look so guilty.â Angel admonished as he laid out towels on the floor. âWeâve all been there. It couldâve happened to me too.â
âAnd it probably will now at this rate.â
âWill you quit worrying about that? Youâre the one on his second deathbed here. Which speaking of,â Angel reached for the thermometer and nudged it gently into Huskâs ear, earning a soft whine in return. â102.3. This is a hell of a bug you got, huh.â
Husk groaned. Only figures that his fever was even higher now that the intense heat was cooling down to an uncomfortable chill. âWorkâs gonna suck tomorrow.â
Angel looked over his shoulder, trash can in hand to be disposed of. âYou are absolutely not working tomorrow.â
âAnd what exactly am I supposed to tell Alastor? You really think a freak like him believes in sick days?â
âYou donât have to tell him anything. Iâll handle it.â Angel said seriously before letting out a laugh. âI mean, I could always take over for the day. How hard can it be to make drinks anyway? I wonder how much alcohol you even put in them. I can hardly ever taste it.â
âThatâs the whole point, dumbass. If you donât know what youâre doinâ itâs gonna taste like shit, and you donât know what youâre doing.â
âSounds like something weâll worry about tomorrow. I do think kitty cat needs a bath though. Youâre all sweaty.â Angel petted the top of Huskâs head and scratched behind his ears. It took all of Huskâs willpower to not start purring. Damn his fever.
âNot a bath.â Husk said.
âAw, cats donât like water?â
âFuck you. What I mean is I want a shower.âÂ
âFair enough. You need help?â
âYouâre not just trying to see me naked are you? I donât need help showering.â Husk set down the trash can and stood up, black creeping into the corners of his vision. He quickly sat back down. âShut up.â
âI didnât even say anything.â
âI know youâre thinking it.â Husk grumbled, a hand on his head. âPoor weak kitty or whatever the fuck.â
âI donât think youâre weak, Husk. Who does everyone go to for their problems?â
Husk shrugged.
âExactly. Iâm sure even Alastor would be like this if he was as sick as you are right now. So stop being so stubborn and let me help you.â Angel once again wrapped an arm around Huskâs shoulders.
âI donât think Iâm the stubborn one here.â Husk tried, his voice sounding so tired and weak.
âThe sooner weâre done the sooner you can go back to sleep. Now letâs go.â
Soon Husk was in the bathroom sitting on the closed toilet seat as Angel got the shower ready.Â
âItâs gonna feel cold but itâs not. We gotta lower your fever.âÂ
Husk pouted. âI was hoping for a hot shower.â
âThatâs a great way for you to actually pass out this time.â
âFine.â Husk stood and expected Angel to move towards the door, but he stayed put.
âAngel, do I really have to strip in front of you?âÂ
They shared a blush.
âIâll look away.âÂ
As promised, Angel didnât open his eyes until Husk was safely behind the shower curtain. Husk felt his whole body light up at knowing the thin sheet of plastic was the only thing between them.
âIâll be right out here if you need me.â Angel took a seat on the toilet lid.
âCanât you wait outside the door?â
âIâd much rather catch you if you pass out then find you on the floor.â
âOh alrightâŚâ
Huskâs movements were stiff and awkward as he cleaned himself. The lukewarm water made him shiver but it did admittedly feel good to get all rinsed off.Â
âIâm done.â Husk called out.Â
âMy eyes are closed.â
Except when Husk spun on his heel to step over the tub, his head started to feel fuzzy and drifty. âOh - â What should have been a steadying hand slipped down on the shower tile, and the rest of his body would have gone down with it if it werenât for many hands holding him upright.
âSee? Told ya you idiot. I ainât lookinâ where I shouldnât so calm down.â
Angel made quick work of helping Husk dry off and back into clean pajamas. Husk took a spot on Angelâs chair and took every medicine and fruit flavored beverage Angel passed in his direction. Soon Angel had gotten a new set of sheets on the bed and was guiding Husk to lay down. Husk was asleep in seconds.
~
The first thing that Husk noticed when he woke up was how bright it was in Angelâs room. He rolled over and stretched his limbs, pleasantly surprised to find that they didnât ache nearly as bad. His pounding headache and dry mouth were ironically reminiscent of a true hangover as if to mock him. His stomach felt sensitive but nothing that promised immediate misery to come.Â
The second thing that Husk noticed was a note on the night stand.
Had to leave for work. Val needed me for an early shoot. Thereâs chicken soup in the fridge if you get hungry. You only have to heat it up if you can handle that. And donât try to work today. Charlie knows everything and unless you want to face her, youâll stay in my room with Nuggs. Yes, thatâs a threat.Â
The tips of Huskâs ears grew warm, even warmer when he noticed the meds and water also waiting for him next to the note.Â
âAngelâŚâ Husk murmured.Â
That soup was the best damn thing heâd ever had.
Vox has some fun with Alastor's allergies in the chair.
~
***I haven't written anything snz in 5 years at this point so this got a little too indulgent lol. I will say it's dark and only gets a little fluffy towards the end. So if that kind of dynamic upsets you, you might want to read at your own risk. Otherwise I had fun torturing Alastor even if I did feel bad writing lol.
Alastor was sure that he had thought of everything prior to committing to this deal. Like everything in his life, every tiny detail was carefully crafted according to plan. It didn't matter that he was quite literally tied in a chair or whatever arrogant nonsense Vox spouted; it was truly Alastor in control.
Well, he'd thought of almost everything.
It turned out that not having a free hand to scratch one's nose was probably one the worst punishments in all of Hell. Alastor prided himself on his physical endurance through pain of any kind, but there was something so nagging, so persistent about this affliction.
He knew what was causing this. How could he not? It was only in his nature to scan his every environment for any potential dangers. Rather than a big tough scary demon or what have you lurking in the corner, it was simply a bouquet of flowers sitting at the computer station.
Alastor's sinuses had been buzzing uncomfortably all morning. He knew there were only two cures: vaporizing the flowers into thin air using powers that currently didn't work, or giving into a much needed sneeze to clear himself of the irritant. He'd love to use a tentacle to rub the itch away, but Vox was determined to stay typing away at the computer all damn morning, and surely he'd have a field day at the sight.
Even when he felt his nose threaten to drip, Alastor maintained his composure and smile. Maybe he could get it out that way. He made sure Vox wasn't looking and scrunched his face towards his shoulder to wipe away some of the mess. The rough fabric also helped alleviate some of the itch too. Not all of it, but it was better than nothing.
This worked for a short while before his stubborn nose produced sniffles that thankfully seemed to be covered by the sound of the keyboard. What he really needed was some privacy and a tissue to get it all out of his system.
That was what he usually did. As long as he could help it, he never sneezed in front of others. His ability to hold back was actually rather impressive. His willpower now would have been enough if it weren't for being trapped with the blasted flowers in such a small room all damn morning.
This next sniffle was a mistake, and the itch blossomed deep on one side. Alastor clenched his jaw, held his breath. He could only hold off for a few minutes before snapping into his shoulder, letting out a few silent sneezes.
Unfortunately the movement still made some noise, and Vox looked over curiously.
"Struggling are we? You already know there's no getting out of those restraints. The only reason you should even try is for my own entertainment."
"What a boring life you must have - " Alastor started, his grin faltering at being forced to breathe deeply in order to speak. "Hhh-snf! What a boring life you must have if me sitting here doing nothing is entertaining for you."
Vox raised an eyebrow. Come to think of it, Alastor's nose looked pinker than usual. Oh, entertaining indeed. He smirked. "Oh, but you're quite the spectacle doing nothing. You're finally not running your mouth for once. It's nice to hear my own thoughts."
"Do us both a favor and...keep them in your - " Alastor held his breath. This was getting hard.
"You can hardly seem to finish your sentences, Al. Is something troubling you?"
"N-not at all." Alastor wheezed, his lungs filling involuntarily. Fuck. "Hh-hh-hh'tscxxt!" He gasped, his cheeks reddening.
Vox raised both eyebrows, his features pulling into an evil smile. "Aww, bless you." He mocked. "Was that all what was wrong? You've always been so dramatic about the most basic of things."
"You wouldn't have to sneeze so many times if you let them out. Come on now. Use that smart little brain of yours." Vox gave Alastor's head a firm little rub.
"I won't be so gracious as to aim away from you with the next one if you don't get your hands off me." Congestion crept into Alastor's threat.
"So you admit there will be more? Well don't keep me waiting." Vox paused. "Go on."
"The point still stands," Alastor sniffled several times against the mess threatening his upper lip. "What a boring life to sit around and watch someone sneeze. Don't you have petty little emails to write?"
"Of course I do, but this is far more fun. You do sound like you could use a tissue though, deer. It's there if you need it." There was a box over on the table. Vox didn't move to grab it. Alastor would have to swallow his pride and ask for them - politely.
"No need." Alastor's eyes fluttered shut against his will. "Hh'eshhtt! Hschtt! Hhe'eshhh!"
"Very well then. I can't help but wonder what's got your nose this morning. It'd be a shame if you were coming down with something. It's no fun if you're already suffering from something else."
Alastor wasn't thinking when he glanced over at the flowers sitting there innocently. Vox took notice, wasting no time to grab the bouquet and study it closely. "What? These?"
"I never said that."
"It really would be a shame if you were allergic to them. They were a gift. It would be rude to throw them out." Vox pretended to stare at them longingly. "But I suppose if they're bothering you..."
"Not at all. You and I both know that it would take much more than this to bring me down. They really are quite lovely."
"Aren't they? They smell amazing." As if to demonstrate, Vox smelled them before holding them out towards Alastor's face. "Here. Tell me what you think."
âHHh'ESHTSCHhâiew!â Alastor snapped forward in his chair, face looking at the ground. Despite his earlier joke, the thought of sneezing on Vox was actually more humiliating than he could stand.
"Hhâeskkcsshhuu! Hhe'scheww!"
"Aww, you can't handle them?" There was a low purring quality in Vox's voice. To see the great Radio Demon lose control was beyond alluring.
"You must stop putting words in my mouth. I am perfectly fine." Alastor said, voice thick and face streaming.
"I'm glad you feel that way. In fact, do you mind holding onto them for a little bit? I want to find a bigger vase for them." Vox didn't miss the look in Alastor's eyes. "Unless..."
"Unless nothing. Don't you worry. Huhh'ghsshuu!" Alastor blinked wearily. "They're safe with me."
With that, the bouquet was set in Alastor's lap and Vox had left. Alastor knew better than to believe that he was truly left alone. Vox had hidden cameras everywhere.
"Hh'sshhh! Eh'shh!" Little sneezes escaped, his eyes itching like crazy. He wondered what exact flowers were in the arrangement. The lilies were definitely causing the majority of this, but there was such a beautiful variety all contributing in their own fun little ways.
"HH'HHESHHUH! Huh'ghesshhww! H'tashhshuu!"
Alastor's head was swimming, allergic tears pricking at his eyes. Another sneeze came on every time he caught his breath. The mess was everywhere; there was no containing it anymore. Thank God he finally heard the door close and in walk Vox, nothing in hand.
"What do you know. I couldn't find anything in storage." There was almost some sympathy in Vox's expression when he took note of Alastor's face.
"My goodness. No need to cry my darling. I told you I'd come back."
Vox cupped a tender hand around Alastor's flushed cheek, a thumb used to wipe away the tears.
"The great all powerful Alastor brought to his knees by a mere plant. What a mercy." Vox tilted Alastor's chin up, met his watery eyes. "And a delight."
"G-get off," Alastor rasped.
"I don't think you're in any positon to be giving me orders."
"Let go." Alastor kicked his legs desperately, but his face remained firmly held in place. "Huhh'SSHHEWWW!"
Vox jumped back with a yelp. He knew he had no one to blame but himself, but still! "Fuck! That was disgusting, Al! Can't you cover your mouth?" He frantically wiped at his screen.
"No?" Alastor pulled at his restraints. He was red and hot, although he'd be lying if he wasn't the tiniest bit amused. "Tried to warn you."
Vox sighed and grabbed the bouquet, much to Alastor's relief. "Oh yeah. Well, I suppose I should put these back in their water. I want them to be alive for a long time."
With the bouquet away from him, Alastor could breathe a little easier. He so desperately needed the box of tissues that he strategically couldn't reach.
"I could really use something." Alastor said quietly, hoarsely. Vox pretended to not hear him. "Come on. Haven't you had your fun?"
"Hm? You need something?" Came the reply.
Alastor growled.
"You'll have to tell me what you need. I'm not a mind reader."
Alastor took a slow deep breath. "Can you give me the tissues?"
"Tissues what?"
The lightbulbs in the room flickered. "Please." He said through gritted teeth.
"Of course! All you had to do was ask." Vox tossed the box into Alastor's lap.
"You do remember my hands are tied, no?"
"Every second of every day." Vox finally stood, finally grabbed a handful of tissues and held them to Alastor's face. The tissues were drenched almost immediately.
"I can only imagine how humiliating it is for someone else to have to tend to your runny nose." Vox mused.
"I'd say it's worse for you. You're the one actually holding the tissues."
"Yeah but whose snot is it?" Vox tossed the tissues in the trashcan. "You need more?"
Alastor shook his head, rather wore out. He closed his eyes, feeling sniffly but at least the worst was over. He jumped when a cool cloth started wiping down his face.
Alastor shook his head. "Absolutely not. You just got through with poisoning me once today."
"It's not poison, but it will make you sleepy. C'mon."
Alastor took the pink pill being prodded into his mouth and downed the ice water. He watched in bewilderment as Vox actually took the bouquet with him and turned off the lights.
"I have a meeting coming up. I don't need you sneezing every ten seconds interrupting it. I expect that you'll stay right here."
With that, Vox was truly gone, and Alastor nodded off in his chair.
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