in ur fft au, who deals with rude customers who throw a fit :o?
sun typically does! he does everything in terms of dealing with customers, and this unfortunately includes the ones that are... maybe less than pleased with his service (which, by the way, they shouldn't be; they're just picky, sun's customer service is impeccable!). he tends to deal with pissy customers a bit often, considering the fact he's a robot and a lot of people don't think he's truly sentient. that, though, is more just a vague disgust seeing a robot behind the counter of a cafe. there's always those customers that are worse, though, and sometimes dealing with them overwhelms him. moon will jump in when that does happen and make sure sun is alright to deal with other customers. (if not, moon has sun sit in the break room to calm down while he mans the front desk. he might not enjoy it, but he'd rather not sun stress himself out or overthink something one of those awful customers says to him! moon has a sharp tongue and isn't scared to give them his own opinion, either.)
short drabble below the cut !! <3
You watch as the kitchen door slams open and the customer at the counter flinches at the loud noise, watching Moon exit the kitchen with irritation clear on his face. He glares at the customer, red eyes piercing like daggers, before looking at Sun with a gentle smile. “Sunny, how about you go sit in the back for a little bit, okay?” Moon hums, voice as gentle as he could possibly be in such fury.
Sun glances towards the customer—with his lack of pupils, you’re only able to tell because his head ever-so-subtly turned towards the customer—before he looks back at Moon and nods slowly, “Okay,” he says. Surprising, you think. Sun didn’t seem like the type of person—er, robot?—to let Moon take control in a social situation, especially one like this that requires delicacy to defuse the situation.
Moon gently places a hand on Sun’s arm, running it down until both of their hands are hidden from the counter where you’re sitting, and then Sun walks away, looking at the ground as he opens the kitchen door and disappears behind it.
Moon watches the door until Sun leaves, and even a few seconds afterwards. The customer hits the countertop with their palm, “So-”
“Don’t you dare start,” Moon snaps, head turning so fast towards them you hear several clicks at once, “What goes through your head to talk to someone in such a way?”
“You’re just robots,” the customer begins, “why should I try to be nice to-”
“We are serving you,” Moon interrupts, “by choice. You are not obligated to anything at our location, and you most certainly can’t treat us like your own personal slaves just because we’re ‘just robots’.” He leans forward slightly, and the customer backs up. “We are not required to provide you service, and quite frankly, Sun should have kicked you out the moment you entered complaining. We do not accept such negativity in our cafe, nor do we accept mistreatment of workers and other customers.” He glances towards you briefly, catching your eye before he snaps his head back towards the customer, “So, I recommend leaving this establishment before we personally twist your limbs in ways you can’t even comprehend them turning, and dangling you from the ceiling to ignore your cries of protest.”
This, along with Moon’s sudden change in demeanor, eyes flickering in what you’re deciding is pure irritation, seems to have thrown the customer off, and they scramble to throw a twenty at Moon and bolt out of the doors. You watch them through the window scramble into their car. It slides on the ice in the parking lot as they try to get the hell out of there.
You look towards Moon. “Threats, huh?”
“They work,” Moon shrugs, slumping back into his nonchalant demeanor once again, “and I would never do such a thing. Do you think you could go check on Sunny for me while I manage any future customers? He should be in the break room.”
You glance at the glass double-doors of the building before you stand, shutting your laptop. “Watch my laptop and yeah.”
“No one will steal it,” Moon hums with a smirk, “but myself? Can’t say much.”
"Dining with the worms, already, pup?" Rother barks. "Or will they make a feast of you?" He paces around his squire — a bony mutt whose bite has yet to meet his bark — before returning to his place inches before him.
Hector growls against the back of his own fist, feeling warm blood from his tooth-pricked lip begin to mingle with the grime he fell into. He glances at Rother's boots, knowing full well that he'll be tasked with wiping the dried mud off them later, before glaring up at him.
"Say what you want, but I'm not done." He spits, scrambling up to his feet like a newborn foal, and grabs his waster from the ground. "Let's go again. Again!"
Rother laughs, a rancorous but familiar sound that carries across the sparring grounds. "No, boy," he says. "Your tenacity is noted, but that's enough for today. I hear Ursilda's got the kitchen making something fresh for us all. Something to celebrate your young bloods' efforts, she told me."
"Dinner can wait," Hector huffs — ever-eager, ever-determined to prove himself. 'Old man' almost jumps from his lips, but he won't be caught shoveling manure for mouthing off again.
"Come now." Rother drops a heavy hand onto Hector's shoulder. "The King and Queen don't pride themselves in you lot staying hungry, now do they? Now on you go, and wipe your face!"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
It takes a few seconds before Sun begins slowly walking towards him. He hops down from the platform leading to the balcony and slowly walks over. “Moony?” He begins, voice quiet and gentle.
Moon backs himself into the corner further. Sun stops in his tracks, watching Moon’s chest heave in lieu of breathing. He notices Moon’s shaking hands, still hovering in the air like he’s just been shocked.
(Moon gets overstimulated to the point of having issues with touching, and Sun helps distract him.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Carmilla Carmine/Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Characters: Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Carmilla Carmine (Hazbin Hotel) (mentioned), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) (mentioned), Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel) (Mentioned)
Additional Tags: Obsession, Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino Being Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette Being Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), the vees all have their own obsessions, Smoking, (obviously from val)
Series: Part 2 of Xan's Vees Trash Heap
Summary:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino & Velvet (Hazbin Hotel)
Characters: Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Velvet (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) - Character, Mentioned Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel) - Character
Additional Tags: Arguing, Fights, Valentino's Obsession with Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino Being Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvet is spelled Velvette, Valentino is bad at feelings (Hazbin hotel), Velvet is the backbone of the Vees fr, Abusive Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), borderline abusive at least . not intentional, Toxic Relationship, Vox gets his screen shattered, Vox is like half human half tech but its like 70/30 for tech, his anatomy confuses me, Excessive use of italics, Valentino has Awful Eyesight (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino's Obsession with Angel Dust, Beta Read, Swearing
Summary:
Throwing things and having shit eyesight is never a good thing. Especially not when your boyfriend has a glass screen for a head.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino & Velvette & Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Characters: Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Carmilla Carmine (Hazbin Hotel)
Additional Tags: Smoking, Sexting, (kind of), Canon-Typical Violence, Weapons, Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Not Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino Not Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is Down Bad (Hazbin Hotel), Mentions of drugs, Mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomit, Mild Gore, mentions of cannibalism, Valentino is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Vox (Hazbin Hotel), i know these tags are like whiplash just trust me here guys, Not Beta Read, Excessive use of italics, Implied Sexual Content
Series: Part 3 of Xan's Vees Trash Heap
Summary:
Vox is easily flustered, especially by Val. Val, he discovers, is ALSO easily flustered.
OR, five times Val flusters Vox, and one time Vox flusters Valentino back.
i have this bad habit of starting and dropping one-shots. i dont know if i'll ever come back to this one, but it feels better setting it free even as half-formed as it is now lol
⁘-⁘-⁘
"I'm sorry," Hector says; his lips barely part enough to let the words slip out. "I just—"
He lingers on Cassandra's smile — it's measured, but perhaps the gentlest he's seen her. A reflection of the moment mere weeks ago, when she willed rows of blackened dragon teeth back into the earth.
She played the part of queen so well looking into the crowd, the way her eyes softened as though she were ready to comfort an old friend. Though, the ring of hushed whispers around her served as a fitting reminder that it would take more than a show of her power — what caused all this wreckage in the first place — to earn back their trust. The crowd of locals continued to murmur, rippling in skepticism and discontent.
Give them time, she thought. They'll see.
"We're past you having to explain yourself, Hector," she says, though a part of him is convinced that the sentiment is more self-soothing than anything else.
"You said that the Moonstone chose you, that you can control it." For once, his voice is quieter, uncertain. "You keep saying that you have better things planned for all these people, but..."
He furrows his brows—
Fire and a scream, or thirty. He doesn't feel how hard his boots hit the ground, or the heavy smoke whirling in his lungs. He's half-asleep, watching himself; an intruder in his own dream, staring into a thousand mirrors. He passes one in the castle, its frame gilded and engraved with care, and a shriek freezes him in place.
For a moment, the trance breaks, and he sees through his own eyes again, sees how they glow a distant, icy blue, and feels some stranger's still-warm blood across his chest. Before he can understand what he's done, there's a woman in an apron wailing at his feet, curled over a guard's body. A sword, polished and unused like a prized ceremonial object, glints just a few paces away from them in the orange light.
Shock and shame coils in his gut, and just as he considers turning his blade onto himself, he returns to being a mere passenger, a collared dog without even its own bark.
—and tries to persish the thought.
His eyes cast downwards, and even without the Mind Trap's connection, she can still intuit his thoughts so easily. The plainness in how easily Hector gives himself away fascinates her.
The small scales encircling her clawed fingers pull back just enough to reveal her hands. Hector eyes them. They're working hands — strong and capable and calloused — but they lay with such tenderness on his.
The touch feels like an unearned gesture — for whom, and in what way, Hector can't say, but he takes this small dose of comfort. He betrays the urge to recoil in doubt; it's been so long since anyone touched him like this. But he believes her. She hasn't Used him since, after all. His King is somewhere else — 'The blind leading the blind. Him and Rapunzel,' Cass had said.
He's desperate for a shred of belief in her sincerity.
"I'm sorry, Hector," she says. "I didn't plan for those things to happen, but—" Her lips form a tight line, and she scoffs. "I've already told you all of that."
Cassandra thumbs his comet tattoo, and his eyes linger on the marred skin of her right hand. It almost as dark as the rocks, and he wonders if it will heal in time.
