this audio made me think of them so 😭💦
noise dept.
$LAYYYTER
todays bird
we're not kids anymore.

⁂
No title available
tumblr dot com
ojovivo
Sade Olutola
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

No title available
hello vonnie

oozey mess
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

izzy's playlists!
Misplaced Lens Cap
NASA

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam

seen from Canada

seen from Italy
seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from Czechia

seen from Bosnia & Herzegovina

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Netherlands
seen from Italy
seen from Japan

seen from United Kingdom
@spotsquad
this audio made me think of them so 😭💦
Wait, didn't the whole Alastor being a mama's boy thing come from Faust?
And Viv has stated that Faust's lore isn't canon anymore... :(
I believe Alastor being a mama’s boy is something that came from Viv herself.
Can someone fact check me?
A little theory of my own is that. What if Alastor Mother wanted a child but couldn't bare one. So she used magic to call upon someone to be able to do so and that someone was Roo.
But in order for Roo to be able to do it she needed more power which requires soul. So Alastor Mother gave up hers and Roo pulled a Marry and Jesus move and gave Alastor Mother a child. Since Alastor Mother wasn't conceived by the father, but Roo herself pretty much it could be the reason when he summon Rosie she mention his soul is unique.
Which could also be the reason why Alastor is cannibal because since he is part of Roo he too also need to absorb soul as well, which his demon form being a Windigo is very fitting.
Idk if I did the link correct, but here's the first chapter, but nothing much different other than I added something to the very end, but the rest goes to @mermaid-of-the-valley and also not last and not least, but @tonystark604 as you request the link to the story.
Working on the second chapter.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/81658866/chapters/214777381
Taking Drunk Al home the SAGA 🐀
If there is one day i dont reblog this.... I am in danger
Starting the reblog Train now. GO!
Vox begs Lucifer to heal Alastor chest wounds meanwhile Alastor in the background overhearing the conversation hiding like a cat that heard it was going to the vet.
I can picture that happening and Lucifer trying or Vox trying to pull him out of the hiding place.
OMG THANK YOU IT'S AMAZING!
One question that's been on my mind for a while but kept forgetting to ask is. Why does it seem Angle Alastor have such a low self-esteem about himself.
Like he just looks so sad sometimes whenever he has to make dissensions like he's afraid that if he doesn't make the right choices something bad is going to happen and it'll be all his fault.
idk maybe I'm over thinking it.
Nah you're not overthinking it bc you're 100% correct!
He has terrible self esteem. Alive, he was constantly trying to control himself and second guessing every choice because he NEEDS to get into heaven. He NEEDS to see his mother again. So why is he so bad??? What is WRONG with him?? Why isn't he happy?
Why can't he feel settled in his own skin?
And then he arrives in heaven and he has imposter syndrome. He hates himself. He hates everyone around him.
And then he goes to hell and he STILL has imposter syndrome - WORSE now!! He hates himself. He envies everyone around him.
What the hell is WRONG with him???
And then he sees Vox. So kind, so charitable, so deserving - and he's not. He's wrong. He's an angel undeserving of his wings. He's pretending to be a sinner.
He's bad.
Vox is good. Vox is himself. Vox is so Real.
Alastor is lying. He's always lied. All he does is pretend he's something he's not. And it drains him.
He's a bad person pretending to be good. He's a bad angel who doesn't WANT the good life. He's a bad demon because he'll never earn the right to be in hell. He's a bad son.
He has such a terrible self image it corrupts his own confidence.
Okay this make me want to hug a character who isn't real. This is sad someone give him a hug ASAP!.
everyone's spectulating that alastor and zestial are connected due to the both of them having lil ghost symbols in their magic and alastor actually treating him with respect despite clearly not getting along with men
which leads me to think, is zestial one of alastor's ancestors? we were told that zestial and carmilla's backstories will be told in season 3 and I'm wondering if they are sorta related somehow
Zestial being Alastor’s ancestor would be an interesting link.
I’m actually hungry for more interactions between the two of them (considering they’re the only two Overlords with common sense that can think for themselves).
Ever since they interacted with each other in S1 I’ve kinda thought they had a bit of a relationship considering Zestial’s one of the only people Alastor treats with genuine respect.
From what I've seen so far is that Zestial seems to be the only overlord that doesn't coddle Alastor and kind of respects Alastor privacy. There was only a slight interaction with them together and Zestial was only wondering where was Alastor was for 7 years which Alastor replied saying he pretty much took a break and Zestial kind just drop it then there and didn't push any further.
In the long wrong I just think Alastor kind slightly respects Zestial, because when one of the egg boys ask if they should beat Zestial up Alastor threaten them to shut up.
Although this is only just thought and nothing else just saying what I seen so far.
Vox found a new fish for his tank
Aquarist for @tonystark604
“You two should just fuck already.”
The two Media Overlords turned to shoot Valentino eerily similar unimpressed stares. The moth’s lascivious smirk didn’t falter, his legs popped up and he started kicking like they were at a sleepover.
“What? Am I wrong? And can I film it?”
Alastor rolled his eyes and his neck in the opposite direction. He then crossed his legs at the knee and audibly sighed at the man’s standard behavior. Vox, meanwhile, also immediately groaned in exasperation, pushing away from Alastor’s fun new chair and walking over to his… whatever they were.
“Val, that’s not- Big picture here, babe. He’s just here to eat his words. I don’t want to fuck him.”
“Why not? Don’t get me wrong, Voxxy. I love foreplay as much as the next guy, but it’s only worth it if-”
Alastor tuned them out. He knew Vox might have inclinations towards him, but it wasn’t in his nature to share that kind of victory. His anger tended toward violence of the more traditional sort. Worst case scenario, he’d end up regenerating for a day and have to deal with Vox’s smug gloating over it. No, Vox was at his core, a romantic. He wanted Alastor to want him back and the brief satisfaction he might derive from forcing the issue would be hollow.
Damn, he was tired. It was a shame he hadn’t finished his coffee earlier when Lucifer riled him up. A dramatic exit was all well and good, but the caffeine would have been a plus. He hummed. Come to think of it, he did spill some of his drink on the side table too. He’d have to buy Niffty something soft for her plushine collection of misfit toys to make up for the error.
Something with feathers this time, she’d been oddly preoccupied with textures of the sort since her excursion with the rest of the Hotel’s residents.
Oh, damn it all, he’d forgotten to take his stock off the stovetop before his visit with Rosie! Vivzi, or whatever she was going by these days, might have taken care of it, but he sincerely doubted that. What with all her other duties and ongoing relationship drama.
He slid his eyes around the office, passively noting the horrendous décor Vox surrounds himself with. Industrial minimalism. Cold, clean lines and glaring blue light bouncing off the polished concrete floors. Not even a rug to break up the monotony.
He raised an eyebrow at an oil painting of Vox on a giant mechanized shark as it leapt from an ocean. Ridiculous fancies on his part no doubt. There were no seas in the Pride Ring. But it was a personal touch at least. Almost charming on some level.
Alastor finally looked over the massive aquarium making up the far wall. Multitudes of colorful Hellish fish species schooled and spiraled, the overhead neon flashing on contact with their scales. Hypnotic in their own way and on theme for Vox, but not especially interesting.
He yawned widely, static rising in concert and then falling again.
When he blinked his eyes open at the tank, he gave a start. What he might have first dismissed as a dirty spot on the glass was actually a creature in the water. The dark smudge moved in a visible pattern, tracking the edges of the far side of its enclosure for something.
Alastor squinted, unconsciously leaning in to try bringing the shape into focus. The beast in the water twisted, appearing to gain size and speed as it drew closer from some unknown stimuli. The vibrant fish scattered.
The neon lights bent around a gargantuan, and apparently very real, shark. An odd apparatus was attached to its face and created the illusion of multiple eyes. Its shadow loomed large over the Radio Demon.
Alastor felt his ears gradually lift to sit straight. His eyes flicked from one detail to the next, drinking it in with utter fascination.
‘Sublime.’ He thought. ‘What are you?’
A hand fell hard on his right shoulder and his ear immediately folded again. Alastor tugs himself free for a second time that day, accidentally setting his perch to roll.
Not much was gained by the distance, Vox just grabbed the back of his chair again and wound him against his side. The TV Overlord just theatrically threw out his opposite arm to gesture at the floating behemoth.
“Like him?” Vox asked, practically mooning over the thing. “Isn’t he just the best, biggest, and prettiest demon shark in Hell?” He cooed in baby talk, over the top and obnoxious.
“I’m sure. Barring those deep seas creatures in Envy.” Alastor drawled. He rolled his eyes and folded his legs up onto his seat like he’s riding side saddle. He exhaled slightly at the minor space it appeared to create between them. “Though I doubt it was achieved naturally. What on earth is that thing on the beast’s face?”
Vox tsks at his nonchalant tone, but complied. “It’s a mask to improve his brainwaves. I wanted him to be able to understand me and see more colors. He can actually make sense of them now!”
Alastor sniffed in disinterest. “Seems a waste for something that won’t live more than 12 years at best.”
“You think I haven’t gotten past the limitations on Earth? Shok.Wav here’s been alive for nearly 64 years.”
Alastor blinked and an ear twitched. His gaze traced the shark once more, and then ticked back to Vox who was wearing a smug grin. No. The idea was too absurd. “Surely you don’t mean to imply?”
Vox cackled. “What?! You don’t recognize the poor baby?” He grabbed Alastor by the back of his neck, lighting his nervous system up with something close to pain. He refused to show it. “Want a closer look? Might jog that dusty memory.”
Alastor’s lips peeled back, grin turning far more hostile at the insinuation. “Don’t. You. Dare.” His static peaked.
Vox’s smile only sharpened. “Hey, Val!” He called over his shoulder. “You want to see that thing I told you about?”
The moth paused in picking over his open wardrobe. “Ugh! Voxxy, you’re still on this? I told you the water chumming doesn’t do it for me.”
“No! The OTHER thing.” Vox grit.
Alastor felt a growl rumbling up from his chest. “I swear to God, Vox. I’ll make your first drowning look like a leisure swim in a fucking wading pool.”
Val took a deep drag of his cigarette. “Fine, babe. You want to get the deer wet so bad, I’ll help, but don’t you be complaining about the smell later.”
He swayed over, still entirely nude and unbothered by it. Alastor immediately redirected to the TV Overlord. “This was not in the deal Vox.”
Vox met him eye to eye, wagging a finger in chastisement. “Uh-ah, Tender-hoof! Deal was I get to keep you captive, you never specified where.”
“Don’t-!” The wires binding him abruptly pulled away at his front, catching the buttons of his coat. Most horrifically, Valentino sliced down his top layer at his neck. Alastor was dragged onto the floor, his coat and shirt splitting open and fluttering over his upper arms.
Alastor pressed his arms over his chest now, holding both sides the shredded fabric to maintain cover. He absolutely seethed at his captors, full radio dial eyes and antlers.
Valentino, of course, didn’t pass up the opportunity. “Damn, it really was all shoulder pads and stuffing. I bet I could hold his whole waist with one hand.” He leaned in with a leering squint. “You certainly have a thing for the twig look, amore.” The moth reached forward to take Alastor’s chin.
The Radio Demon took a swipe at his face. Deal be damned, Alastor was not going to tolerate this disrespect from Valentino of all demons.
Valentino jerked back, but it wasn’t necessary. Vox immediately snapped his cables back around Alastor’s arm and pulled him into the air by the limb. Then he went for his shoes.
Aside from some kicking, Alastor was mortifyingly trapped in the confines of his own terms. Every tug just sent him swinging. All he had left was his words. “Figures you would be so pathetic, Vox. Even now? So scared that you can’t win, that you’d-“
Vox pressed a claw on the rough pad of his hoof.
Alastor ground his teeth at the pain, biting down a hiss, but still trying to kick the offending hand away. Vox pressed in again, breaking the skin and taking advantage when Alastor went stiff again. He slipped the other shoe off with a dismissive flick. “Not helping your case, Al.”
Alastor instinctively folded his free leg towards his torso, and then internally scolded himself for the action. Vox gave a self-satisfied hum.
With his claws still curled in warning around the deer’s bleeding hoof, Vox pulled Alastor along the ceiling towards the tank walkways. Shok.Wav swiped along the wall and moved to follow.
The stroll up to the railings was irritatingly swift. Vox, practically giddy with the show he put on, pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button. A wide tarp repelled into view and settled just above the water where Shok.Wav circled in excitement.
A veterinary hammock. Vox was treating him like just another animal in his collection.
Alastor wished he could say he reacted with more decorum, but there, hovering over the thinnest barrier between himself and a predator far more comfortable hunting the seas than he was? He abandoned clutching at the scraps of his clothes and instead grabbed for the cable on his arm, attempting to relieve the weight on it and pull himself higher.
The cable uncoiled at the same moment a surge of electricity zapped down the line.
Alastor crashed into the hammock netting, muscles still twitching at the lingering charge. He was only prompted to push through it when the water pooling below started to expand.
Sinking. The mat was sinking.
He tried to climb out, across the mesh, up the rungs, it all fell slack. Shok.Wav lunged for the flailing motion.
With no other options, Alastor jumped for the platform at the edge of the tank. Vox’s pet rumbled and strained against the rough mesh in its teeth instead of prey, attempting to throw it off.
Alastor’s leap fell short, but his head was still dry. He swam. He gripped the metal platform.
Vox grabbed him by the hair.
“Deep breath, Al.” The TV Overlord pushed his head down and held him there.
The water churned around him and Alastor struggled, scratching at Vox’s claws and the flesh of his hands. Bubbles burst from him. He could taste the salt in the water. He fought what he knew was coming.
His lungs burned. He felt his fingers, his hands, his arms, and then his whole body go limp and numb.
He slipped away from the grasp on his head. Alastor took a breath and sank like a stone.
-------------------------------------------------
Vox stood back from the tank’s edge, eyes never leaving the Radio Demon’s form.
Val stood a few stairs down from the platform, an abundance of caution for his poor depth perception. He fluffed the collar of his recently folded wings. “Didn’t realize you were so personally invested in the drowning kink. I’ll have to make a new series.”
Vox kept a bead on their prisoner, but joined Val. He wrapped an arm around his business partner’s waist and walked him the rest of the way down to his office. “Oh, it’s way better than that, babe. Just you wait.”
Alastor continued to fall, seemingly dead for the time being. Shok.Wav, now free from the vet hammock, twisted towards him, but a gesture from Vox returned the shark to its tracking of the glass.
Suddenly, Alastor’s eyes burst with light and his back jackknifed. A scream cut through the water, distorted in an oddly musical way, but unmistakably a cry of pain. The Radio Demon started seizing. Alternately going tense and then curling inwards around his core. Bubbles burst from him as gripped his sides.
He sank faster, slamming into the bottom of the tank and kicking up the sand and silt around him. Alastor was soon obscured, more sonorous sounds filling the space.
To Valentino’s surprise, Vox’s arm pressed him tighter against his side, dampening his ability to interpret the sound with his tympanal membranes. It was only then he realized that he apparently zoned out.
The sound gradually died away and he saw it.
Dots of bioluminescence lit up along the sides of something long, beginning to glow and shift in mesmerizing patterns. Where the Radio Demon had been was now a new shape, its outline only partially visible. With a skittish movement, the thing darted off, hiding among the plaster flora and reefs that Vox lined his enclosure with. Val only caught a flash of red bleeding to navy before it was lost in the artificial cave openings.
When the silt fully settled again, Alastor was nowhere to be seen.
“Un control de la respiración impresionante.” Val purred. “Quick question though. What the fuck was that?”
Vox chuckled to himself. “I told you. I fucking told all of the others and none of you believed me! Ha! Well, lookie there! The Radio Demon is nothing more than an overgrown goldfish!”
Val whistled at his theatrics. “¿Lo de la sirena? Holy shiiiit.~” He smirked, leaning over to use Vox’s shoulder as a kickstand. “And here we all thought you were crazy. Egg on my face.” He squinted into the water again. “Bit of a scaredy-cat like this, huh? C’mon, Voxxy, I wanna see him. Make him do something.”
“My pleasure.”
--------------------------------------------------
Of all the sensations, the way his airway adjusted to the water was the worst.
Filaments in the tissue of his throat waking at the overwhelming moisture, the gills on his sides ram ventilating to expel carbon dioxide. Breathing now a whole new trick to relearn in an environment he was perfectly suited to and loathed all the same.
He always had to fight back the gagging reflex at first, always had to convince himself he wasn’t drowning.
The salinity was higher than he’d usually tolerate, and harder to acclimate to when he had just been thrown in. Not impossible though, he could feel his body trying to balance against this shift. Against the wrongness of the water, so different from that of his bayou.
His chest stung.
No, fuck reservation. His chest screamed! It burned and wept! His wound was exposed and open to a god damn floating salt mine! He dug his claws into the artificial grit lining the floor.
He could even feel the differences there.
Alastor’s vision adjusted under transparent lids.
Yes, his claws were longer. Needle-thin with scales the same shade of red cascading up his fingers. Then there was the webbing-
“Come on out, Alastor!” More bubble hissed from his lips in response. The speakers set in his temporary coral hideaway buzzed. “Don’t be shy now! Where’s that showman’s moxie, Al?!”
And that’s really what it was, wasn’t it? A hiding place. Vox was getting satisfaction either way, so what was the point in straining himself further? At least there was some distance now. Let Vox stew while he relived the worst curse Hell bestowed on him.
He took in the other changes forced on him. The long tail that replaced his legs at the naval, the flowing pelvic fins framing it, the spines along what were his ears and the larger one trailing down from his waist. The caudal fin was especially bittersweet.
Beautiful, fan-like, forked in such a way as to increase his speed. Lunate, Vox had called it when he succumbed to his prodding to let him see it in the past.
Unbearably touchy then too.
His tail flicked irritably and he snapped at himself when it sent another plume of manufactured sand into the open. Not that Vox really needed it to locate him. He could feel the prickling sensation of a camera creeping up his back.
Thankfully, his image was imperceivable as ever.
The finlets that took the place of his usual ears clamped down against his hair while Vox continued making a nuisance of himself.
‘Well,’ Alastor thought, crossing his arms under his chin and closing his eyes. ‘I could use the rest anyway.’
---------------------------------------------------
“Oh, he is not-!” Vox snarled into his camera feed.
“Oh, he is not!” Val repeated with far less disbelief and far more schadenfreude at his partner’s expense.
The holo-screen Vox pulled up was predictably corrupted, but even then, the pixilated form of the Radio Demon purposely turned away, apparently perfectly willing to ignore Hell outside of the hole he’d tucked up in to die. And by Hell, he meant Vox in particular.
The petty bitch.
“I will tear those spines out of your head!” Vox screamed down the speakers.
Alastor adjusted one of his pelvic fins, but made no other motion to indicate he’d been heard. Vox snapped his fingers and the chains of their deal flickered into view before fading again. No dice. He was still a prisoner, but as he had taunted before, Alastor wasn’t required to answer him.
If he were capable of it, Vox might have exhaled hard through his nose, before dismissing his feed. “Stupid red-jewel-scorp-whatever the fuck he is!” The Media Overlord snarled. He spun on his heel and started stomping for the door to his office.
“Voxxy, where you going?”
“To get those idiots in R&D to earn their benefits and build an extra-long taser stick or deer-nip or something!”
With a fond sigh, Valentino wrapped his lower arms around Vox, removed his hat with the upper left hand, and then propped his chin on the top edge of his screen. “Love the energy, Amore, but you’re playing his game that way. Someone that prudish doesn’t respond to toys.~”
He dropped Vox’s hat into the demon’s hands and turned them both back to the tank. “Like you said: Big picture. You want to tame a brat? Give him something to be scared of. Something heavy handed.”
He dragged a hand up Vox’s chest to his screen, tilting it up to Shok.Wav still hovering by the area where Alastor first fell.
Then he dragged both upper hands back down Vox’s chest, tracing along his lover’s arms to cradle Vox’s hands in his own. “And then your hold feels much softer.”
----------------------------------------------------
The only warning he had was a vague interference rolling over his senses.
And then it hit.
Alastor felt the force of it knock him into the plaster coral even as his temporary hideaway began breaking apart. Something big slammed into reef and the water pulled with it. Alastor twisted on himself against the shifting tide, trying to remain in one place.
The whole structure started to crumple, speakers and cameras abruptly ceased ambient sound as they exploded under the collapsing weight.
It came again. This time pieces of the plaster actually falling inwards and bouncing off of him. The faux cavern’s opening bent sideways, pinching closed. It suddenly occurred to Alastor that Vox’s proclivity towards lashing out in violence had the possibility of being far more intense when he couldn’t personally act on it.
Bang! Again, the grit under his hands slipped and Alastor lost balance.
Fish from the other crevasses were skittering past the entrance of his hiding spot. If he didn’t move soon, he’d be crushed.
Alastor dissolved into his shadows. The form was less stable than when he was on land, looking and moving more like bleeding ink than oil, but it had to suffice. He slipped out, curling around the reef, something smaller lunged at him. He reacted.
Eel blood drew unwanted attention. Vox’s titanic pet left behind its assault on the architecture and its cybernetic eyes locked on his umbral state.
Alastor bolted for the surface.
His shackles manifested before he could break to the air.
He was forced into his physical form, pulled hard to the side and knocked brutally into one of the tank walls.
A bright light hit him head on and, combined with the slight pain of the impact, instinct took over. He spun down the side of the wall, erratically swiping ahead of himself and swimming blind. When he pushed from the glass, it only led to being stunned from the opposite side with a similar light.
The chase, the lights, the panic, all served to push him to the open water in sight of Vox’s office. Only then did the agitation end. Alastor made a series of short chitters when the lights dimmed, rubbing at his eyes and blinking rapidly. His vision returned.
He was face to teeth with Shok.Wav.
The shark moved even closer and Alastor scrambled away, the swipe of his tail and arms sending him backwards until he bumped into the remaining glass wall.
He blocked, for all the good it would do, head turned to the side but eyes unflinchingly wide.
Then Alastor heard it again.
That interference rolling over him in a clumsy fashion. A signal seeking a receiver. Not behind him in the office, not Vox. It was coming from the animal in front of him. It had paused a few feet away.
The reaching signal came once more. Alastor’s finned ears rose curiously, mirroring their reaction from before, when they had the safety of a barrier separating them. Despite unease, Alastor let the signal connect.
It wasn’t like speaking with another demon. It was rudimentary. Impressions, images, and most notably, sounds. No, it definitely was not conversational, but for lack of another way to describe it: The shark was “talking” to him.
“Shok.Wav” knew its name. It knew Alastor needed to be visible. It knew Alastor was not food. It knew Alastor.
It knew Alastor?
The Radio Demon cautiously let his arms drop, flabbergasted. He tried sending something on the same level to Shok.Wav. A questioning sound. The shark’s shape obscured as a thought.
Shok.Wav nudged its snout into Alastor’s chest. He hissed at the contact with his reinflamed skin. A feeling of “Sharp. Pain. Bad.” An image of himself, of Vox. The impression of safety. He squinted at the creature in confusion.
“Aww! Already making friends?”
Alastor glared down through the glass at his unwanted audience. Vox stood in a self-satisfied way. Hands tucked in his pockets and eyes trailing the length of his tail like he was appraising a particularly expensive showpiece.
He tsked. “Beautiful. All that color and glow, and he insists he was made for radio.”
“Agreed.” Val added. “Do you know how many people would pay to see that? Giving me all sorts of ideas for in-water shoots. Maybe I oughta revisit that ‘Man Overboard’ script?” He held up his hands, fingers in a camera frame pose. “What that tail do, Sirena?”
Alastor clamped his caudal fin, disgusted. He sneered at Valentino.
“Nothing to say, bitch?” The moth prodded with an insufferable grin.
Alastor turned his attention to Vox, noting the identical grin on his screen. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Vox shared that detail of this form as well. A side-effect of his filaments becoming necessary. Sound was limited to that of an ordinary aquatic creature. Nothing that could be interpreted as human words.
Just grunts, chitters, clicks and, of course, song.
With an inaudible huff, he tried to move from that side of the tank again and found his guard dog was there immediately. Herding him back towards Vox, even when he tried to push at the beast’s nose to gain space.
The TV Overlord cooed at his pet once more. “Aren’t you sweet, my lovely baby!” He redirected to Alastor. “Well, Al? Remember him now?”
Alastor squinted at Vox and then back to Shok.Wav. It would have been then… if Vox was telling the truth. If this demonic shark was not merely provided knowledge of Alastor technologically.
He flashed an idea across their signal. What he remembered of open water being. Sounds, scents, sights, and a questioning impulse. ‘Where?’ He asked. Trying to parse where Shok.Wav came from, when Vox acquired him.
What he saw in response echoed with those same feelings from before. ‘Sharp, Pain, Bad!’ The vaguest memory of green seas. Being caught and carried and hurt. Sounds, his own shriek when using his powers in those earlier days. It was scooped up and kept in a long saltwater tank where it could swim in circles. A red blur, that must have been him, moving closer and farther from the tank as he went about his days. Strange food. Not strange now.
There was a conversation he barely remembered with Vox, whom was telling him how to care for the runty fish for the brief time he’d keep it. Voices warped through the medium of the water.
Alastor remembered that tank being shattered before he managed to contract with an Envy Hellborn willing to transport the creature.
Alastor followed the line of his arm to the hand Shok.Wav had pushed his snout into. Those feelings weaved into their signal repetitively. ‘Safe. Sharp. Pain. Help. Bad. Safe.’ They were not new, they were baseline, centered on the circuitry and mechanics wired into its body. Most strongly in the mask.
Alastor’s felt his feedback building, vibrating the glass of the tank until a crack split the wall directly in front of Vox. He and Valentino jumped.
Shok.Wav flinched. It shook its head at the noise, and flicked off Alastor’s touch. ‘SHARP! Pain! Bad!’
Alastor exhaled harshly, ceasing the dangerous reverberation, and turned to glare at Vox. His eyes were sparking with ferocity.
With more effort than usual, he broadcast out to the speakers. His voice was colder and deeper, but musical in some way. His static hissed. “What did you do?”
This has inspired me to make a fanfiction story now.
Uuuuuuuh @spotsquad can you tag me when you are done 😍😍😍
Yeah sure. Maybe for a while, but the first chapter is pretty much what you all ready have read from Mermaid-of-the valley.
Funny Radioapple-ish HC!
Hear me out... Lucifer turns Alastor into an actual small deer to mess with him; But instead of Alastor being annoyed about it - he becomes a menace and terrorises everyone relentlessly.
Bonus: Alastor expertly evades Lucifer’s attempts at changing him back resulting in the hotel lobby being mostly destroyed - Charlie doesn’t know if she should laugh or cry at the situation lol! Lucifer honestly thought Alastor would hate it and regrets everything xD
Alastor: I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
It's a DEER loose in a HOTEL!
No one has any idea what it's going to do! Least of all the Deer!
🤣
Imagine this is what season 3 is about. 😆 🤣
Vox found a new fish for his tank
Aquarist for @tonystark604
“You two should just fuck already.”
The two Media Overlords turned to shoot Valentino eerily similar unimpressed stares. The moth’s lascivious smirk didn’t falter, his legs popped up and he started kicking like they were at a sleepover.
“What? Am I wrong? And can I film it?”
Alastor rolled his eyes and his neck in the opposite direction. He then crossed his legs at the knee and audibly sighed at the man’s standard behavior. Vox, meanwhile, also immediately groaned in exasperation, pushing away from Alastor’s fun new chair and walking over to his… whatever they were.
“Val, that’s not- Big picture here, babe. He’s just here to eat his words. I don’t want to fuck him.”
“Why not? Don’t get me wrong, Voxxy. I love foreplay as much as the next guy, but it’s only worth it if-”
Alastor tuned them out. He knew Vox might have inclinations towards him, but it wasn’t in his nature to share that kind of victory. His anger tended toward violence of the more traditional sort. Worst case scenario, he’d end up regenerating for a day and have to deal with Vox’s smug gloating over it. No, Vox was at his core, a romantic. He wanted Alastor to want him back and the brief satisfaction he might derive from forcing the issue would be hollow.
Damn, he was tired. It was a shame he hadn’t finished his coffee earlier when Lucifer riled him up. A dramatic exit was all well and good, but the caffeine would have been a plus. He hummed. Come to think of it, he did spill some of his drink on the side table too. He’d have to buy Niffty something soft for her plushine collection of misfit toys to make up for the error.
Something with feathers this time, she’d been oddly preoccupied with textures of the sort since her excursion with the rest of the Hotel’s residents.
Oh, damn it all, he’d forgotten to take his stock off the stovetop before his visit with Rosie! Vivzi, or whatever she was going by these days, might have taken care of it, but he sincerely doubted that. What with all her other duties and ongoing relationship drama.
He slid his eyes around the office, passively noting the horrendous décor Vox surrounds himself with. Industrial minimalism. Cold, clean lines and glaring blue light bouncing off the polished concrete floors. Not even a rug to break up the monotony.
He raised an eyebrow at an oil painting of Vox on a giant mechanized shark as it leapt from an ocean. Ridiculous fancies on his part no doubt. There were no seas in the Pride Ring. But it was a personal touch at least. Almost charming on some level.
Alastor finally looked over the massive aquarium making up the far wall. Multitudes of colorful Hellish fish species schooled and spiraled, the overhead neon flashing on contact with their scales. Hypnotic in their own way and on theme for Vox, but not especially interesting.
He yawned widely, static rising in concert and then falling again.
When he blinked his eyes open at the tank, he gave a start. What he might have first dismissed as a dirty spot on the glass was actually a creature in the water. The dark smudge moved in a visible pattern, tracking the edges of the far side of its enclosure for something.
Alastor squinted, unconsciously leaning in to try bringing the shape into focus. The beast in the water twisted, appearing to gain size and speed as it drew closer from some unknown stimuli. The vibrant fish scattered.
The neon lights bent around a gargantuan, and apparently very real, shark. An odd apparatus was attached to its face and created the illusion of multiple eyes. Its shadow loomed large over the Radio Demon.
Alastor felt his ears gradually lift to sit straight. His eyes flicked from one detail to the next, drinking it in with utter fascination.
‘Sublime.’ He thought. ‘What are you?’
A hand fell hard on his right shoulder and his ear immediately folded again. Alastor tugs himself free for a second time that day, accidentally setting his perch to roll.
Not much was gained by the distance, Vox just grabbed the back of his chair again and wound him against his side. The TV Overlord just theatrically threw out his opposite arm to gesture at the floating behemoth.
“Like him?” Vox asked, practically mooning over the thing. “Isn’t he just the best, biggest, and prettiest demon shark in Hell?” He cooed in baby talk, over the top and obnoxious.
“I’m sure. Barring those deep seas creatures in Envy.” Alastor drawled. He rolled his eyes and folded his legs up onto his seat like he’s riding side saddle. He exhaled slightly at the minor space it appeared to create between them. “Though I doubt it was achieved naturally. What on earth is that thing on the beast’s face?”
Vox tsks at his nonchalant tone, but complied. “It’s a mask to improve his brainwaves. I wanted him to be able to understand me and see more colors. He can actually make sense of them now!”
Alastor sniffed in disinterest. “Seems a waste for something that won’t live more than 12 years at best.”
“You think I haven’t gotten past the limitations on Earth? Shok.Wav here’s been alive for nearly 64 years.”
Alastor blinked and an ear twitched. His gaze traced the shark once more, and then ticked back to Vox who was wearing a smug grin. No. The idea was too absurd. “Surely you don’t mean to imply?”
Vox cackled. “What?! You don’t recognize the poor baby?” He grabbed Alastor by the back of his neck, lighting his nervous system up with something close to pain. He refused to show it. “Want a closer look? Might jog that dusty memory.”
Alastor’s lips peeled back, grin turning far more hostile at the insinuation. “Don’t. You. Dare.” His static peaked.
Vox’s smile only sharpened. “Hey, Val!” He called over his shoulder. “You want to see that thing I told you about?”
The moth paused in picking over his open wardrobe. “Ugh! Voxxy, you’re still on this? I told you the water chumming doesn’t do it for me.”
“No! The OTHER thing.” Vox grit.
Alastor felt a growl rumbling up from his chest. “I swear to God, Vox. I’ll make your first drowning look like a leisure swim in a fucking wading pool.”
Val took a deep drag of his cigarette. “Fine, babe. You want to get the deer wet so bad, I’ll help, but don’t you be complaining about the smell later.”
He swayed over, still entirely nude and unbothered by it. Alastor immediately redirected to the TV Overlord. “This was not in the deal Vox.”
Vox met him eye to eye, wagging a finger in chastisement. “Uh-ah, Tender-hoof! Deal was I get to keep you captive, you never specified where.”
“Don’t-!” The wires binding him abruptly pulled away at his front, catching the buttons of his coat. Most horrifically, Valentino sliced down his top layer at his neck. Alastor was dragged onto the floor, his coat and shirt splitting open and fluttering over his upper arms.
Alastor pressed his arms over his chest now, holding both sides the shredded fabric to maintain cover. He absolutely seethed at his captors, full radio dial eyes and antlers.
Valentino, of course, didn’t pass up the opportunity. “Damn, it really was all shoulder pads and stuffing. I bet I could hold his whole waist with one hand.” He leaned in with a leering squint. “You certainly have a thing for the twig look, amore.” The moth reached forward to take Alastor’s chin.
The Radio Demon took a swipe at his face. Deal be damned, Alastor was not going to tolerate this disrespect from Valentino of all demons.
Valentino jerked back, but it wasn’t necessary. Vox immediately snapped his cables back around Alastor’s arm and pulled him into the air by the limb. Then he went for his shoes.
Aside from some kicking, Alastor was mortifyingly trapped in the confines of his own terms. Every tug just sent him swinging. All he had left was his words. “Figures you would be so pathetic, Vox. Even now? So scared that you can’t win, that you’d-“
Vox pressed a claw on the rough pad of his hoof.
Alastor ground his teeth at the pain, biting down a hiss, but still trying to kick the offending hand away. Vox pressed in again, breaking the skin and taking advantage when Alastor went stiff again. He slipped the other shoe off with a dismissive flick. “Not helping your case, Al.”
Alastor instinctively folded his free leg towards his torso, and then internally scolded himself for the action. Vox gave a self-satisfied hum.
With his claws still curled in warning around the deer’s bleeding hoof, Vox pulled Alastor along the ceiling towards the tank walkways. Shok.Wav swiped along the wall and moved to follow.
The stroll up to the railings was irritatingly swift. Vox, practically giddy with the show he put on, pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button. A wide tarp repelled into view and settled just above the water where Shok.Wav circled in excitement.
A veterinary hammock. Vox was treating him like just another animal in his collection.
Alastor wished he could say he reacted with more decorum, but there, hovering over the thinnest barrier between himself and a predator far more comfortable hunting the seas than he was? He abandoned clutching at the scraps of his clothes and instead grabbed for the cable on his arm, attempting to relieve the weight on it and pull himself higher.
The cable uncoiled at the same moment a surge of electricity zapped down the line.
Alastor crashed into the hammock netting, muscles still twitching at the lingering charge. He was only prompted to push through it when the water pooling below started to expand.
Sinking. The mat was sinking.
He tried to climb out, across the mesh, up the rungs, it all fell slack. Shok.Wav lunged for the flailing motion.
With no other options, Alastor jumped for the platform at the edge of the tank. Vox’s pet rumbled and strained against the rough mesh in its teeth instead of prey, attempting to throw it off.
Alastor’s leap fell short, but his head was still dry. He swam. He gripped the metal platform.
Vox grabbed him by the hair.
“Deep breath, Al.” The TV Overlord pushed his head down and held him there.
The water churned around him and Alastor struggled, scratching at Vox’s claws and the flesh of his hands. Bubbles burst from him. He could taste the salt in the water. He fought what he knew was coming.
His lungs burned. He felt his fingers, his hands, his arms, and then his whole body go limp and numb.
He slipped away from the grasp on his head. Alastor took a breath and sank like a stone.
-------------------------------------------------
Vox stood back from the tank’s edge, eyes never leaving the Radio Demon’s form.
Val stood a few stairs down from the platform, an abundance of caution for his poor depth perception. He fluffed the collar of his recently folded wings. “Didn’t realize you were so personally invested in the drowning kink. I’ll have to make a new series.”
Vox kept a bead on their prisoner, but joined Val. He wrapped an arm around his business partner’s waist and walked him the rest of the way down to his office. “Oh, it’s way better than that, babe. Just you wait.”
Alastor continued to fall, seemingly dead for the time being. Shok.Wav, now free from the vet hammock, twisted towards him, but a gesture from Vox returned the shark to its tracking of the glass.
Suddenly, Alastor’s eyes burst with light and his back jackknifed. A scream cut through the water, distorted in an oddly musical way, but unmistakably a cry of pain. The Radio Demon started seizing. Alternately going tense and then curling inwards around his core. Bubbles burst from him as gripped his sides.
He sank faster, slamming into the bottom of the tank and kicking up the sand and silt around him. Alastor was soon obscured, more sonorous sounds filling the space.
To Valentino’s surprise, Vox’s arm pressed him tighter against his side, dampening his ability to interpret the sound with his tympanal membranes. It was only then he realized that he apparently zoned out.
The sound gradually died away and he saw it.
Dots of bioluminescence lit up along the sides of something long, beginning to glow and shift in mesmerizing patterns. Where the Radio Demon had been was now a new shape, its outline only partially visible. With a skittish movement, the thing darted off, hiding among the plaster flora and reefs that Vox lined his enclosure with. Val only caught a flash of red bleeding to navy before it was lost in the artificial cave openings.
When the silt fully settled again, Alastor was nowhere to be seen.
“Un control de la respiración impresionante.” Val purred. “Quick question though. What the fuck was that?”
Vox chuckled to himself. “I told you. I fucking told all of the others and none of you believed me! Ha! Well, lookie there! The Radio Demon is nothing more than an overgrown goldfish!”
Val whistled at his theatrics. “¿Lo de la sirena? Holy shiiiit.~” He smirked, leaning over to use Vox’s shoulder as a kickstand. “And here we all thought you were crazy. Egg on my face.” He squinted into the water again. “Bit of a scaredy-cat like this, huh? C’mon, Voxxy, I wanna see him. Make him do something.”
“My pleasure.”
--------------------------------------------------
Of all the sensations, the way his airway adjusted to the water was the worst.
Filaments in the tissue of his throat waking at the overwhelming moisture, the gills on his sides ram ventilating to expel carbon dioxide. Breathing now a whole new trick to relearn in an environment he was perfectly suited to and loathed all the same.
He always had to fight back the gagging reflex at first, always had to convince himself he wasn’t drowning.
The salinity was higher than he’d usually tolerate, and harder to acclimate to when he had just been thrown in. Not impossible though, he could feel his body trying to balance against this shift. Against the wrongness of the water, so different from that of his bayou.
His chest stung.
No, fuck reservation. His chest screamed! It burned and wept! His wound was exposed and open to a god damn floating salt mine! He dug his claws into the artificial grit lining the floor.
He could even feel the differences there.
Alastor’s vision adjusted under transparent lids.
Yes, his claws were longer. Needle-thin with scales the same shade of red cascading up his fingers. Then there was the webbing-
“Come on out, Alastor!” More bubble hissed from his lips in response. The speakers set in his temporary coral hideaway buzzed. “Don’t be shy now! Where’s that showman’s moxie, Al?!”
And that’s really what it was, wasn’t it? A hiding place. Vox was getting satisfaction either way, so what was the point in straining himself further? At least there was some distance now. Let Vox stew while he relived the worst curse Hell bestowed on him.
He took in the other changes forced on him. The long tail that replaced his legs at the naval, the flowing pelvic fins framing it, the spines along what were his ears and the larger one trailing down from his waist. The caudal fin was especially bittersweet.
Beautiful, fan-like, forked in such a way as to increase his speed. Lunate, Vox had called it when he succumbed to his prodding to let him see it in the past.
Unbearably touchy then too.
His tail flicked irritably and he snapped at himself when it sent another plume of manufactured sand into the open. Not that Vox really needed it to locate him. He could feel the prickling sensation of a camera creeping up his back.
Thankfully, his image was imperceivable as ever.
The finlets that took the place of his usual ears clamped down against his hair while Vox continued making a nuisance of himself.
‘Well,’ Alastor thought, crossing his arms under his chin and closing his eyes. ‘I could use the rest anyway.’
---------------------------------------------------
“Oh, he is not-!” Vox snarled into his camera feed.
“Oh, he is not!” Val repeated with far less disbelief and far more schadenfreude at his partner’s expense.
The holo-screen Vox pulled up was predictably corrupted, but even then, the pixilated form of the Radio Demon purposely turned away, apparently perfectly willing to ignore Hell outside of the hole he’d tucked up in to die. And by Hell, he meant Vox in particular.
The petty bitch.
“I will tear those spines out of your head!” Vox screamed down the speakers.
Alastor adjusted one of his pelvic fins, but made no other motion to indicate he’d been heard. Vox snapped his fingers and the chains of their deal flickered into view before fading again. No dice. He was still a prisoner, but as he had taunted before, Alastor wasn’t required to answer him.
If he were capable of it, Vox might have exhaled hard through his nose, before dismissing his feed. “Stupid red-jewel-scorp-whatever the fuck he is!” The Media Overlord snarled. He spun on his heel and started stomping for the door to his office.
“Voxxy, where you going?”
“To get those idiots in R&D to earn their benefits and build an extra-long taser stick or deer-nip or something!”
With a fond sigh, Valentino wrapped his lower arms around Vox, removed his hat with the upper left hand, and then propped his chin on the top edge of his screen. “Love the energy, Amore, but you’re playing his game that way. Someone that prudish doesn’t respond to toys.~”
He dropped Vox’s hat into the demon’s hands and turned them both back to the tank. “Like you said: Big picture. You want to tame a brat? Give him something to be scared of. Something heavy handed.”
He dragged a hand up Vox’s chest to his screen, tilting it up to Shok.Wav still hovering by the area where Alastor first fell.
Then he dragged both upper hands back down Vox’s chest, tracing along his lover’s arms to cradle Vox’s hands in his own. “And then your hold feels much softer.”
----------------------------------------------------
The only warning he had was a vague interference rolling over his senses.
And then it hit.
Alastor felt the force of it knock him into the plaster coral even as his temporary hideaway began breaking apart. Something big slammed into reef and the water pulled with it. Alastor twisted on himself against the shifting tide, trying to remain in one place.
The whole structure started to crumple, speakers and cameras abruptly ceased ambient sound as they exploded under the collapsing weight.
It came again. This time pieces of the plaster actually falling inwards and bouncing off of him. The faux cavern’s opening bent sideways, pinching closed. It suddenly occurred to Alastor that Vox’s proclivity towards lashing out in violence had the possibility of being far more intense when he couldn’t personally act on it.
Bang! Again, the grit under his hands slipped and Alastor lost balance.
Fish from the other crevasses were skittering past the entrance of his hiding spot. If he didn’t move soon, he’d be crushed.
Alastor dissolved into his shadows. The form was less stable than when he was on land, looking and moving more like bleeding ink than oil, but it had to suffice. He slipped out, curling around the reef, something smaller lunged at him. He reacted.
Eel blood drew unwanted attention. Vox’s titanic pet left behind its assault on the architecture and its cybernetic eyes locked on his umbral state.
Alastor bolted for the surface.
His shackles manifested before he could break to the air.
He was forced into his physical form, pulled hard to the side and knocked brutally into one of the tank walls.
A bright light hit him head on and, combined with the slight pain of the impact, instinct took over. He spun down the side of the wall, erratically swiping ahead of himself and swimming blind. When he pushed from the glass, it only led to being stunned from the opposite side with a similar light.
The chase, the lights, the panic, all served to push him to the open water in sight of Vox’s office. Only then did the agitation end. Alastor made a series of short chitters when the lights dimmed, rubbing at his eyes and blinking rapidly. His vision returned.
He was face to teeth with Shok.Wav.
The shark moved even closer and Alastor scrambled away, the swipe of his tail and arms sending him backwards until he bumped into the remaining glass wall.
He blocked, for all the good it would do, head turned to the side but eyes unflinchingly wide.
Then Alastor heard it again.
That interference rolling over him in a clumsy fashion. A signal seeking a receiver. Not behind him in the office, not Vox. It was coming from the animal in front of him. It had paused a few feet away.
The reaching signal came once more. Alastor’s finned ears rose curiously, mirroring their reaction from before, when they had the safety of a barrier separating them. Despite unease, Alastor let the signal connect.
It wasn’t like speaking with another demon. It was rudimentary. Impressions, images, and most notably, sounds. No, it definitely was not conversational, but for lack of another way to describe it: The shark was “talking” to him.
“Shok.Wav” knew its name. It knew Alastor needed to be visible. It knew Alastor was not food. It knew Alastor.
It knew Alastor?
The Radio Demon cautiously let his arms drop, flabbergasted. He tried sending something on the same level to Shok.Wav. A questioning sound. The shark’s shape obscured as a thought.
Shok.Wav nudged its snout into Alastor’s chest. He hissed at the contact with his reinflamed skin. A feeling of “Sharp. Pain. Bad.” An image of himself, of Vox. The impression of safety. He squinted at the creature in confusion.
“Aww! Already making friends?”
Alastor glared down through the glass at his unwanted audience. Vox stood in a self-satisfied way. Hands tucked in his pockets and eyes trailing the length of his tail like he was appraising a particularly expensive showpiece.
He tsked. “Beautiful. All that color and glow, and he insists he was made for radio.”
“Agreed.” Val added. “Do you know how many people would pay to see that? Giving me all sorts of ideas for in-water shoots. Maybe I oughta revisit that ‘Man Overboard’ script?” He held up his hands, fingers in a camera frame pose. “What that tail do, Sirena?”
Alastor clamped his caudal fin, disgusted. He sneered at Valentino.
“Nothing to say, bitch?” The moth prodded with an insufferable grin.
Alastor turned his attention to Vox, noting the identical grin on his screen. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Vox shared that detail of this form as well. A side-effect of his filaments becoming necessary. Sound was limited to that of an ordinary aquatic creature. Nothing that could be interpreted as human words.
Just grunts, chitters, clicks and, of course, song.
With an inaudible huff, he tried to move from that side of the tank again and found his guard dog was there immediately. Herding him back towards Vox, even when he tried to push at the beast’s nose to gain space.
The TV Overlord cooed at his pet once more. “Aren’t you sweet, my lovely baby!” He redirected to Alastor. “Well, Al? Remember him now?”
Alastor squinted at Vox and then back to Shok.Wav. It would have been then… if Vox was telling the truth. If this demonic shark was not merely provided knowledge of Alastor technologically.
He flashed an idea across their signal. What he remembered of open water being. Sounds, scents, sights, and a questioning impulse. ‘Where?’ He asked. Trying to parse where Shok.Wav came from, when Vox acquired him.
What he saw in response echoed with those same feelings from before. ‘Sharp, Pain, Bad!’ The vaguest memory of green seas. Being caught and carried and hurt. Sounds, his own shriek when using his powers in those earlier days. It was scooped up and kept in a long saltwater tank where it could swim in circles. A red blur, that must have been him, moving closer and farther from the tank as he went about his days. Strange food. Not strange now.
There was a conversation he barely remembered with Vox, whom was telling him how to care for the runty fish for the brief time he’d keep it. Voices warped through the medium of the water.
Alastor remembered that tank being shattered before he managed to contract with an Envy Hellborn willing to transport the creature.
Alastor followed the line of his arm to the hand Shok.Wav had pushed his snout into. Those feelings weaved into their signal repetitively. ‘Safe. Sharp. Pain. Help. Bad. Safe.’ They were not new, they were baseline, centered on the circuitry and mechanics wired into its body. Most strongly in the mask.
Alastor’s felt his feedback building, vibrating the glass of the tank until a crack split the wall directly in front of Vox. He and Valentino jumped.
Shok.Wav flinched. It shook its head at the noise, and flicked off Alastor’s touch. ‘SHARP! Pain! Bad!’
Alastor exhaled harshly, ceasing the dangerous reverberation, and turned to glare at Vox. His eyes were sparking with ferocity.
With more effort than usual, he broadcast out to the speakers. His voice was colder and deeper, but musical in some way. His static hissed. “What did you do?”
This has inspired me to make a fanfiction story now.
Me training to be Lilith’s #1 defender.
(Unless she means Alastor harm. Then we’ll have some problems)
Right behind you. Training to defend her or eliminating her if she hurts either Lucifer , Charlie, or Alastor. (Don't think she will mess with Angel so that's why I didn't including them).
Okay, I've made so many analysis posts on Vincent/Vox, but even I can't lay down a concete reason for this sudden switch in Vincent's composure between these two scenes.
Seriously, LOOK AT HIM-
What the FUCK happened between these two scenes??
What the hell made Vincent lose his fucking sanity so quick that we didn't see, like HUH?! And we already know Brighter parrells Vox's storyline in S2, so, like, SERIOUSLY WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!
There's so much more to this that we didn't get to see this is not the end of Vox's backstory.
Vox/Vincent is a person who always wants to be on top and be better. As we seen in the Flashbacks when he was only a weather man, he was jealous of the person who was the New Reporter, because of all the attention that person was getting. Vox eliminate him and then he became The New news reporter, but he wanted more as he kept seeing all these people who were higher or even better than him.
The last person we see that he kills seems like it was the person who was the head of the whole thing and when Vox asked him to trust him to handle everything, but the guy shook his head. Vincent forcedly shook his hand anyways, but it seem he didn't like the rejection as we see that Vincent pushed him off the building.
Vox/Vincent doesn't like not being the main focus or attention. He wants everyone to rely on him and trust only him. Vox felt the power and the effects that he had on everyone that he even wanted it again as we see in Season 2.
To be honest. A lot of people blame Alastor how Vox turned out, but I believe this would have happened anyways if not worse, because if Alastor didn't reject Vox then he wouldn't have been focusing on Alastor so much, but like how Season two how once Vox started feeling the power that he once had on earth. He started ignoring Val and Vel almost completely and even only interacted with them when he wanted something from them. He even stated in the song how he went "TRUST US" He said " TRUST ME!".
When he wanted Charlie to confirm that he was the strongest sinner in Hell he stated." I'm the strongest, not the V's. ME!"
So basically Vox/Vincent gets too power hungry once he's feels it and will always want more.
The better question is what cause him to be like this in the first place?
I don't know why, but this got me wheezing. 😂
I'm shocked that I haven't seen anyone point out that Vox can be forcibly silenced against his will and get fully muted, completely losing his voice.
(Ironic since his name means Voice lmfao)
BUT Alastor is unable to be silenced even when his mouth his foribly shut. He can still speak his mind and CANNOT be muted against his will. His voice literally cannot be silenced by others.
Not only is this yet another awesome foil between the two (which is the obvious)
But it also represents that radio is actually STILL most reliable long distance method of communication to this very day (in terms of its failure rate)
For instance, during extreme weather, weather radios are almost always the LAST thing that fails. Typically everything else will fail first. Cell towers can get knocked out easily, especially making phones useless. Power poles and powerlines easily can fail, and when the power goes out it renders most television and desktops useless, and you only have so much battery on your moblie devices.
BUT a weather radio will often STILL be working as normal even after all other methods of communication and warning have been lost. (Not always, but the failure rate during dire times is VERY low compared to literally everything else)
Finally!! Someone has finally said it. Just because not many people use radio like they used to anymore these days it's still used for a lot of other things. As long as Radio and the radio waves are still being used it's an unstoppable force when other things fail the task.
RadioApple
Okay, so we all know that after s1 the favorite trope was Lucifer heals Alastor's wound from Adam, right?
Well I'm calling it now that there will be TWO radioapple tropes after s2. One, them taking care of each other's wounds bc srrsly, no one was paying attention to either of these poor guys.
and the other is Alastor being Lucifer's execution bc Luci can't kill sinners himself.
I will bet I am right.
Would very interesting to see, but I don't think Charlie would be please about that if she finds out( If she finds out 😉)
Hi hello also I’d like to ask WHY THE
FUCK
DID NO ONE GO TO HIM WHILE HE WAS BLEEDING OUT???
They very much do not give a shit since the start
I'm still getting pissed off by the fact that, despite everything Alastor did, they STILL FUCKING TOOK THE CREDIT.
He's the ONLY REASON THEY STOOD A CHANCE AGAISNT HEAVEN, THE ONE WHO DISTRACTED VOX LONG ENOUGH TO GIVE THEM TIME TO GET SIR PENTIOUS TO REVEAL HIMSELF TO HELL, AND IS THE ONLY REASON THE HOTEL EVEN MANAGED THIS LONG
what the FUCK YOU GUYS
Alastor was most defiantly on a verg on having a panic attack or a melt down. That's the look like he saw his second death.
Hazbin Hotel X My Hero Academia crossover ideas?
So basically I've been wanting to write these kind of fanfiction story for a while now, but every idea I come up with a new scenario idea comes up.
Originally I was wanting to make it were it's more of the My Hero Academia characters in Hazbin Hotel world. I had a story line were Izuku wakes up in Hell, with no memory on why or how he got there. Izuku at this point is just like a toddler who starting to remember their surroundings.
I wanted to go with Alastor pretty much taking him in,but then I struggled with how would they even meet each other and why would Alastor even take care or watch over a child in the first place.
Then I ended up reading stories were people made Alastor raised Charlie and then that got me thinking, maybe I should go with this approach.
The thing is I just don't know how to play it out.
Any ideas?