seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from France
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from France
seen from Sweden
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Israel
seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from China
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seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Peru
Another 18+ fic on my mind: You and Past!Vox are intimate for the first time.
Hellaverse Crossover Yaoi Ships ROUND 1
FizzyDust 🎪🕷️
GreedyGuitar 💰🎸
StaticShark 📺🦈
OwlDust 🦉🕷️
LustDust ❤️🔥🕷️
StaticHorns 📺🔫
Satanapple 🔥🍎
Boxxie 🧪🎹
BlitzDust 🔫🕷️
RadioRodeo 🦌🐎
GreedyMoth 💰🦋
AppleOwl 🍎🔮
Fall In Love Again & Again
(Being Vox's Hellish Wife Means...)
What is it the kids say now? Ride or Die? If recounting your 'love story' with Vox, you suppose that was your dynamic with him back in the day. He was Vincent Whittman back then. Not even bearing the God of Entertainment title yet, more so the - what was he jokingly called hismelf? The Overseer of Nature? In other words, he was the Weather Man. Quiet, you think Vox fools Valentino and Velvette with the profile of his human silhouette. The one where he looks crisp, handsome, built for business. Because you? You remember enormous, alert eyes, large glasses always threatening to slide off his bumped nose as he buzzed about, a chipped tooth smile he felt no shame in flashing, and a itty bitty goldfish pin he wore like a badge. He wasn't particularly handsome, yet the more time he orbited around you, you found him cute.
Vincent had ideas that didn’t belong to his time. In private spaces he vividly spoke about integrated television, coast-to-coast broadcasting, audience interaction. All these far-fetched ideas had your brow furrow. Initially, you thought, ‘there’s no way this would happen,’ only to realize in the midst of his rambling, you were thinking like your family. Your family who shook your head at your thoughts about how the world could be and how you would make something of it. You heard it too often, ‘one day, you’ll see. You’ll see how the world is.’
So, who were you to judge him? You listened harder, more attentively, encouraging Vincent. You remember telling him to keep his chin up, one day he's going to do great things.
You thought dreamers should stick together.
And frankly, for him to open his mind up to you? It made him attractive. Unbearably so. You aren’t sure how things became so dark.
Maybe it was this thing or - that thing - memories from Earth get hazy over the years. And, emotion tied to memory makes you distort who exactly did what.
But you remember, there came a point where the two of you lived in New York. Center of entertainment at the time. Now working as a reporter for the East Coast Herald, you intentionally grabbed any opportunity to do stories on Vincent.
Your editors had no clue you sat at Vincent's dining room table. You and he pre-discussing these things: what he’ll be doing to sabotage a host, the destruction of the set that should be immortalized in an image, how you’ll angle the article, the quotes that will be utilized. You prep Vincent for saying the right thing. He was good at talking, but he needed to know how to cover himself just the right amount.
The articles always gain buzz, but your editors behave like you're covering - dog pageants. Vincent, now in charge of the TV studio told you to work for him. Just trust him and make the leap. Personal feelings for you aside, he vowed to pay you extravagantly. You sent lambs to the slaughter. On the prowl for new members of his movement. Quietly sizing up fresh blood in New York City with charisma, undeniable personalities, crafting contracts, NDAs. Hell had a spot for you just as it had one for Vincent. The two of you started off so small, almost innocent in your new forms. At the first sight of him, you likened him to a channel mascot with his enormous TV head and persistent smile. You, weren't a TV, or even some sort of Pen or Paper Demon. You were a a small lamb. His loyal, soft wife. Navigating hell was no walk in the park. But the two of you developed the idea that as long as you’re together, everything will be okay, so long as you're together, you won't lose. In the midst of figuring out your abilities, you were curious about what Vincent’s could do. You believed hypnosis could go far, though he insists it’s a cheap way to gain traction. With sleazy media demons about, you figure out how the two of you will market yourselves as bright young demons with a sharp point of view. It’s you who tells Vincent to use his old slogan, “trust me” to gain the love of newly dead souls. And while you fine-tune and help to plot out his future business, he names the both of you. Already deciding your futures.
Over the years, you sprout horns. Turns out you weren’t a sheep, but a goat. Vox preferred the sheep. “They’re loyal.” You prefer the goat, “They climb.”
Your appearances change together over the decades. Vox changes his head whenever technology advances, you change your aesthetic. The conservative, soft look from the 1950s replaced with long hair, long nails, tighter dresses, excessive gold. No amount of jewelry is enough to satisfy your biblical greed. Your appearances were not collaborated, but occurred from similar desires: you can’t get stagnant, you can’t snooze, you have to keep moving with the times. Hell deems you a power couple, for years you keep this united front, this ‘perfect’ marriage.
But privately, the two of you begin clashing - it’s not new, at times Vincent would get testy with you and vice versa. But there’s this underlying stronger tension. Vox says you’re not pulling your weight in the relationship, you don’t believe in him. You parrot this back. If wanting to cut deep, Vox shouts you made him into this. You brought him down here. That could make you laugh to the point of tears, knowing damn well that it was Him who brought you down here. You want your own network, you want to show him you can stand on your own two feet because your ideas are powerful. Vox refuses it. In 2010 you decide it’s time for the perfect couple facade to break. On your Talk Show, you purposely allude to not really knowing how to love. You've possibly, never really been in love. You let tabloids say trouble is in paradise. You will run your Vox's name through the mud and he will do the same to you. But god forbid your name be in someone’s mouth, humiliating you, making you into the butt of the joke. He will kill for you. Tension and animosity is not just the product of your environment, but having been with him for years and years and years. Every so often you and Vox have your splits. Not divorces, splits. Each time you think the both of you are done for good, it’s time for you to show him what you can do -
But then you fall in ancient, human patterns. Unprompted phone calls where you talk about any and everything. Exchanging work stories. He makes you smile, you make him smile. He makes you feel - young. You can't lose when you're with him. Old words from 1959 continue to ring true in 2026. As long as you stick together, everything will be okay. You didn’t bring him down here. He didn’t bring you down here. With mutual, malicious ideas and shared enabling, you marched to Hell with Vox hand in hand. Tabloids will again say the Media Power Couple is together. And one day, again, Tabloids will headline how the both of you aren't wearing wedding rings.
Some sinners speculate this is foreplay or for trending searches. Publicized humiliation, distancing, new lovers, getting back together. They don't know the words that are exchanged at Vee Tower or the complicated history. For you and Vox, nothing ends, just resets. It's inevitable for the both of you to fall in love again and again.
Vox insists he knows what’s right for the Talk Show Host Reader.
How your hair should sit.
How you should wear more blue, less red.
How often you should bare your fangs. The audience wants you to be pretty, not a predator.
And he will be damned if you insist otherwise. If it isn’t Vox’s way, it’s the highway.
You love the show, but you hate when he places his chunky, claws on your shoulders with his 'notes.' You know you have charisma. You know how to talk to people. You always dreamed of a career like this. Yet here this TV man is, acting like you know nothing.
If baby-trapping was handing you this show, then your (business) marriage is a failed one. Still, after you part ways, Vox lingers in you.
You may have known charisma. You may have known how to talk to people. But at the end of the day, the media demon did know better.
Maybe, in a warped act of affection, his overbearing ass did teach you how to grin brighter, butter your voice better, know when to be a 'friend' and when to be a foe.
For better or worse, you carry his traits long after he marked your show as dead in the water.
something something Vox got rejected by Alastor in the 50s, something something 80s Vox getting a new, ambitious sinner to run a talk show and channeling the pain and anger he still feels from Alastor's rejection on his star by giving her no control and packaging her the way he wants to show he is not weak and he can have total control over someone--
Hellaverse Crossover Yaoi Ships ROUND 2
FizzyDust 🎪🕷️
GreedyGuitar 💰🎸
StaticShark 📺🦈
OwlDust 🦉🕷️
LustDust ❤️🔥🕷️
StaticHorns 📺🔫
Satanapple 🔥🍎
Boxxie 🧪🎹
BlitzDust 🔫🕷️
RadioRodeo 🦌🐎
AppleOwl 🍎🔮
GreedyMoth 💰🦋 is OUT!
Hellaverse Crossover Yaoi Ships Line Up:
Hellaverse Crossover Yaoi Ships ROUND 3
FizzyDust 🎪🕷️
GreedyGuitar 💰🎸
StaticShark 📺🦈
OwlDust 🦉🕷️
LustDust ❤️🔥🕷️
StaticHorns 📺🔫
Satanapple 🔥🍎
Boxxie 🧪🎹
BlitzDust 🔫🕷️
RadioRodeo 🦌🐎
AppleOwl 🍎🔮 is OUT!
