This is a SFW tickle blog. I mostly post cartoon tickle art cause that's what i like to draw :p Not a lot of IRL tickle stuff will be discussed here, mainly just fandom/character tickles
Art is tagged #my art
My OC art (few and far between) is tagged #my oc art
My commissions
I take art requests for anything I'm into/have drawn fanart for before, but i rarely check my inbox, apologies :,D
And he has the audacity to say "I'm not ticklish" even after all of this!
I almost feel as if he's drunk in that first one, because why isn't he fighting back??? His arms are free and yet he insists on... allowing Lucifer to do such terrible things to him???????
Hahah, anyway XD I HC Alastor is very ticklish (makes sense, touch adverse)! In most cases he makes a substantial effort to not laugh, but in some cases where someone knows the exact giggle points, he'll guffaw hysterically!
(uhm, suggestive??? not actual nsfw???? eh????????????) this is kind of a part 2 to this comic <3
radio demon tickle monster
(hmm yes hes so used to saying empty threats to alastor from when they were enemies that he still does it HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHGRKHAP OLD HABITS!!!)
i got an ask about whether or not vox is ticklish in my art (perma body swap??? my usual established relationship radiostatic?? idk but i went for the latter and only realized later irs prob the former) and ended up getting so inspired i made this WHOLE small comic about it, but instead of replying to the ask directly with it im now too embarrassed to reply with this whole elaborate comic if it turns out it's about the perma body swap AU, I'M TOO PATHETIC OKAY HAHDPANRLWVRLEHEPGPRHUFQO i am 2 seconds old and my brain is the size of a grain of rice :3
i just think his punishment for s2 shouldve been getting wrecked with tickles. and he literally made the perfect contraption for it. dont worry val and vel are supervising this (theyre gonna leave him in there for so fucking long)
Idea: Alastor sometimes sends Vox letters detailing exactly what hes gonna do to Vox in ticklishly vague detail to get him anticipating. :D
(Sometimes he doesn't even get Vox at all, he just lets him squirm bc its funny)
ANON. YOU ARE A GENIUS
i just had to doodle this concept. i couldnt get it out of my head ever since you sent it. it is SUCCHHHHHH A CUTE IDEA!! the trope of "messing with someone just bc you like watching them squirm in anticipation" is literally one of my fave things ever.......it never ever gets old. imagine getting a letter like this AND THEN HAVING TO SIT THROUGH AN OVERLORD MEETING???????????????? WITH the guy who wrote you the letter. and hes looking at you from across the table like :)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) the whole time. vox is going to blow a fucking fuse
Headcanon that when Voxās gets surprised tickled, he shocks others by accident :D
(Sorry to everyone who has made a request! I swear Iām working on those, itās just I had already started this comic a while ago and just now finished it š„²š„²)
Definitely took a look at this lovely art and had to write a little something inspired by these fucking losers that I love so very much.
pairing: radiostatic (sort of, vincent is certainly thinking about it)
lee!vox, ler!alastor
word count: 4,726
no real warnings, just a normal amount of hazbin cursing and alastorās stupid tentacles if those make you uncomfortable
Vox is tired, so very tired. Being an Overlord in Hell is tiring. Being in Hell at all is tiring.
Of course, thereās a certain ānew smellā to the whole thing, but even a promotion as it stands canāt shake away the days that he just feels like shit. This place is not for the faint of heart, and all he has is his nose-to-the-grindstone mentality to make it all worse.
There are some comforts, though, and one of those is the rather charming demon in red that he met in the bar the day he arrived in the Pride ring. An Overlord that had set up shop a few decades ago and was, as Vox understood it, one of the more dangerous of the lot he had met so far.
The pinging desire to dethrone had been immediate but only until he met Alastor. Thenā¦
ā¦the closet door had opened, and he was as unsteady as a baby deer chasing after the man as often as he could.
One of the easiest places to do that? Said bar.
The Radio Demon was already there, nursing his whiskey, as Vox walked in. His acknowledgement was the same as it always was, a small nod and a whiff of static casted the flatheadās way. Itās pleasant, and certainly appreciated, especially after a day such as this one.
āSorry, I didnāt mean to show up late.ā
āMm, your punctuality certainly is legendary.ā
Alastor never probes. Vox appreciates it and reciprocates as often as he canāthere is something to be said that his curiosity can sometimes get him in trouble. However, today, it certainly would have been easier if the Radio Demon bothered to notice that his drinking partner was looking a little worse for wear.
Emotionally, that is.
āYeah, wellā¦I didnāt really think that one Overlord would actually try and step foot in my little corner so soon, but I suppose I shouldnāt be surprised down here anymore,ā he huffs, making a motion to the bartender. She knows his order.
āAgrat?ā
āNo Calliope.ā
The Radio Demon hums to show he heard. And then, in a rare moment of physical contact, he swipes his thumb under Voxās picturebox head, drawing a startled little motion from the demon and an incredulous look in his direction. āIt looks like she put you through the wringer.ā Itās said with a teasing tone that the television demon is used to now as he gives said thumb a lick.
Was that Voxās blood or the other Overlordās?
It didnāt really matter.
āYeah, she did. Iāmā¦exhausted, honestly.ā Now that heās been given quiet permission, his shoulders drop and he gives a small sigh.Ā
Alastorās eyes remain on his drinking partner, almost far-away as if heās thinking of something else entirely, before a soft chuckle rumbles through the crackle of his filter. āBut youāre sitting here, and she is not. Congratulations, pal, you survived another Overlord attempting to usurp your tiny amount of powerāhow many has it been now?ā
Voxās is now face-first in the wood of the bar. He holds up three fingers to answer the Radio Demon.
And said demonās smile widens. āOnly three? Oh, dear Vincent, I donāt believe youāve earned the right to complain.ā
The television demon turns his head to look at Alastor, squinting. āYeah, that's easy for you to say, everyoneās scared of you.ā
Everyone but him.
āA fear that was well-earned through hard work and perseverance," he hums, craning his neck so he could meet the television's eye properly. An almost playful move. āJust like you're doing right now.ā
Vox feels as though heās making fun of him and turns his head away with a little huff. āDoesn't really seem that way, but Iāll take your word for it.ā There is a light vulnerable answer there that canāt help but sigh through, eyes casted down against the grain. Heās gaining small bits of power, sure, but nothing compared to the Radio Demon. Heāll have to realize that soon, right? And then what?
He doesn't really want to think about that, about how this all changes once his companion believes heās just a fleeting trend.
Alastor is tilting his head as he regards Vox. Heās thinking, watching, articulating his next move as he watches the little pouting demon practically begging for some sympathy that the demon is not wired to give. Howeverā¦
āWell then, perhaps itās time for another lesson on my part, my little protege.ā
Vox groans. āDonāt call me that again...ā
āIām serious,ā he chuckles, āespecially if you feel as though your stamina is lacking inā¦efficiency. After all the help youāve shown me running pesky little sinners off of my territory, I have no issue offering my own help in exchange.āĀ
Heās almost surprised he didnāt ask for a deal to be struck. āFine, what did you have ināā
There was no finishing that statement.
Thereās a small tingle that hit his side, right below his ribcage. Itās enough to make him jump a little but when he snaps his head to the side to inquire what it was that his compatriot had done, he sees what looks like one of Alastorās tentacle things having slid up from the shadows under their feet to wiggle almost playfully at his side.
Wait. What now? Thereās not even any time for Vox to react before another one shoots under his shirt and starts teasing his other side. He shivers, nearly collapsing over the bar as he captures his lower lip between his teeth. āAh-hah-lastorā¦?ā But as he risks a peek beside him, the Radio Demonās expression isn't instilling any confidence that it was an accident.
Thereās a finger resting on his lips, that perpetual smile slightly sharper than heās used to: it lacks malice but is filled with a toxic mischief instead.
Somehow, that makes Vox even more worried.
If itās any consultation, Alastor doesn't seem to be interested in overwhelming him with this. Why would he, that would surely ruin the game heās playing. Eldritch tendrils that heās seen rip people limb from limb are nuzzling against his skin curiously, the static that draws between them pleasant for a moment until they brush against a sensitive spot and he canāt help but cover his mouth to avoid yelping.
The bartenderās attention is drawn. āEverything alright?ā
āOh yeahāyeah! Sorryā¦ā Heās not sure why he apologized. āJustā¦didnāt expect it to be so strong.ā Did the guy look a little offended at that? He honestly couldnāt care less.
āCareful now, Vincent,ā he spares a half-glare at the Radio Demon, āIām having fun right now. You donāt want to interrupt me, do you?ā He spots a flicker of those dials as his grin stretches with lidded eyes, and it makes him want to sink into the floor. Oh, not like he doesnāt want the attention (that is what he wanted, right?), but the optics of this areā¦
ā¦
ā¦yeah, heās not sure how long heās going to be able to play along without passing away.
āN-noā¦ā he manages, a light blue flush on his screen as he sits up rather sharply, expression turning determined. Itās fine, it was just another way to prove himself to Alastor, he could endure it for that possible elation of said praise alone.
And the other demonās expression turns just a hint more sinister. āGood boy.ā He makes a circle motion with his finger, and any hope that Vox had that his companion was taking it easy on him is immediately thrown out the window. Because, hereās the thing, in all the distraction, he really hadnāt noticed that the two wiggling masses under his shirt hadnāt exactly stopped their exploration. They were being merciful, passing by spots that he knew would incite a different reaction, and instead making themselves entirely comfortable against him.
He was an idiot: they had been searchingā¦
So, on Alastorās cue, they tuck up under his arms and he nearly jolts again. The wriggling is exactly as he expected it to feel, but even that knowledge doesnāt help him from coughing away the beginnings of a snicker. Nononoānope, heās not going to break on the first tug. Instead, in an effort to retain some control over the situation, he reaches for his drink and takes a sip.
Only barely shaking.
And Alastor rewards him with a hum of approval and a wink. āPromising. Letās see how long you can hold out when I get to those nastier little spots.ā
āHo-how could you possiblyā¦?ā
āFinding weaknesses is one of my greatest skills, Vincent. You havenāt forgotten, have you?ā
No, of course he hasnāt.Ā
āTo prove my point,ā Vox didnāt really need him to do that, āI know that these,ā and the tips of his little tools drift down to circle around the gills on either side of the media demonās ribcageānot touching the delicate flaps, but even a flick considerably close makes him seize up violently, āah yes, are probably the worst of it for you, am I right?ā
Vox is having a hard time here because on one hand, this is humiliating. Heās a goddamn Overlord, and this is ranging on becoming unearned disrespect, especially considering how much admiration he gives the Radio Demon in return.
And yet, thereās something in Alastorās tone thatās making an entirely different tingle run up his spine.Ā
Heās going to ignore that one as best he can.
āI-isnāt this a-aā¦little c-childish?āĀ
The Radio Demon manages a short laugh, low and cool. āI am shocked at you, Vox. You should know better than to just make an assumption like that.ā What the hell was he talking about? āI am certainly not going to be picky about my methods if the results are met.ā
Great.
The tentacles are starting to expand out around his torso now, dipping playfully into his navel and swiping slowly against the sensitive skin of his waistline, an action that makes him nearly break the glass in the palm of his hand as he takes a sharp breath in.
āNow, as a reminder, weāre going to use this as an opportunity for you to improve upon your stamina, my dear. No laughing, no whimpering, and certainly no crying.ā The Radio Demonās voice is overlayed with static as he croons out the next part, āThink you can manage?ā
No, heās not sure.
But he's going to do his best anyways, isn't he? Alastor is dangling that carrot over his head, practically teasing him with the idea of his approval.
Shit.
As he sits up, those stupid tentacles have clearly taken that as his consent on the matter and as happy to explore as desired by their owner as he sits and watches Vox squirm for a moment, a delightfully smug smirk on his face that the television head might find nice to look at. You know, if he wasn't the subject of it.
But theyāre quick and theyāre deadly accurate, already finding a few spots that make him jolt once againāunfortunately, it's the wiggling in his navel that is close to making him whine out, the sweeping motion almost a little too skilled for someone heās pretty sure never engages in this kind of play often.
Or maybe he wasn't lying before about his methodsātickling was a form of torture, was it not? In some places?
That thought alone made him almost kick his leg against the side of the bar.
Surprisingly, though, Vox is holding out stronger than even he anticipated. The tendrils seem to be throwing everything they can at himālight brushing, wiggling, digging and swirling, even vibrating in some areas. And yeah, it's difficult for him to keep a straight face, but he sure is doing it. He has to, Alastor is assessing him here, and heās not going to disappointā
Oh shit, not the hips.
The second two of those wiggling masses slip under his pants and start playing around with the crevice on either side of his waist, he starts to get a little worried. He doesn't make a sound, no, but he can feel his spine curving and his legs pressing up to try and stop their movement, eyes squeezing shut for the first time since this fucking ālessonā started.
A new, third black tendril is suddenly fluttering against the small of his back, an action that makes the media demon straighten up with a sharp intake. āAh, ah, ah, canāt have you ruining your posture~āĀ
How painfully unfair.
Vox isn't sure how much more of this he can realistically take, especially when heās not granted the simplest mercy of being able to curl up like a bug being toyed with under a microscopeāthatās essentially what was happening here, right? Those tentacles arenāt leaving him any quarter here, digging into his hips with quick precision.
āM-mmghhā¦!ā
The Radio Demon doesn't respond back, taking a sip of his drink before sparing a moment to enjoy the color of it, rocking the glass back and forth with one finger. His ability to multi-task is almost terrifying, Vox canāt help but wonder how many of the torture sessions-turned-brutal murders were done while he was busy dusting his console or tending to his equipment.
ā...A-alā¦ā
āShh, you can do it, my little picturebox. You donāt want to disappoint me when youāve been doing such an incredible job so far, do you?ā
No, he doesnāt.
The tendrils that are drilling into the hollows of his hips are perhaps the worst offenders of all, the actions making him jittery and snorty as he is forced to sit up. Maybe Alastor did that on purpose, maybe he didn't, but keeping his spine straight was just an invitation for them to dig in deeper. A devious little move on his part.
Fuckfuckfuck.
Oh, this is starting to border on too much to handle. He's pretty sure that line was crossed when this started, but the longer it continues, the more Vox realizes that his inhibitions concerning how embarrassing this was are starting to soften.
Alastor is showing him attentionāthe Radio Demon is playing around with him with that mischievous little look in his face and he has to fight every fiber of his being that's attempting to blush as his mouth squiggles on his bright face.
Heā¦
ā¦
Maybe he was enjoying it, just a little. Not that heād let Alastor know that. Not in a million fucking years.
But knowing how scary intuitive the man was, he probably already knew.
Fuck.
āTime to open your eyes, Vincent.ā
He hasnāt noticed the lack of the barās usual ambianceāhow could he, seeing as he was so preoccupied? But as he spares a glance up with eyes practically glitching off his screen, he notices that itās just the two of them. Not even the bartender can be found amongst the empty spaces. At first, a sudden hint of fear hits his chest that perhaps this had been a long con for Alastor to finally consume him like he does with all his other guests on his radio broadcasts.
Tenderizing his meal before eating it.
However, the tendrils mercifully stop their assault on his body, and give him a chance to release the tension being held in his shoulders as he blurts out a sharp gasp and collapses on the bar, panting. Phantom tingles are hitting every inch that was being touched, which is already making it difficult for him and this new dizzying headache heās got, but he manages to look back over at Alastor with one eye closed regardless.
Fucking hellā¦
The Radio Demon is taking the last swig of his drink with a little hum in the back of his throat, standing up slowly with his staff in hand. āWell now, that was very entertaining, pal! I must say, I was quite impressed with your stamina; I never expected you would hold out the entire time!ā And he gives a light, almost soft prod to the side of his screen. āGood job.ā
āY-youā¦why the hellā¦ā Vox is still panting, trying to sit up straight and failing every time with how much his body feels like jello. As the other demon moves behind him, he feels a small pang of something hit his chest and turns his massive head to the side. Was he really just leaving after that? Heās learned pretty quickly that vulnerability is currency down here to the powerful (Alastor included in that category) so he tries to just collect himself as best he can and completely forget what happened to avoid the ache.
Heās not sure he can stop his heart fluttering so fast, so needilyā¦
But then something happens that catches him equally as off-guard as when this entire little test started: Alastorās devilish tendrils immediately grab his wrists and spin him around until his back is against the bar, tugging his arms up and over his head until they are locked in place.
Ow, his fucking headā¦
At this point, exasperation canāt help but leak from his mouth as he growls a little bit with squinting eyes, squirming in place. āWhat the hell are you doingā¦?ā Humiliation? Heās pretty sure he wonāt be able to fight against something like that in this state.
But Alastorās expression is, surprisingly, not daunting. Itās relaxed and, dare he say, comfortable as he regards Voxās new position, twirling his staff before it carefully drums on the floor and he leans against it. āOh dear, you didnāt think I was finished with you, did you?ā
His static heart stops. āIā¦what?ā He regains a little bit of his usual composure, once again squirming to try and free himself with little-to-no change in the matter. āAl, justā¦lemme go, alright?ā
Heās embarrassed. And this is the last person heād want to show that in front of, no matter how much closer they had become.
āOh, but that isnāt what you want, now is it?ā
Vox bristles a little. āI-I donātāahem, I donāt know what you mean...ā Oh fuck, oh fuck.
Alastor tuts before a razor-sharp smile returns to his face as he uses his microphone to tilt the media demonās ridiculously boxy head up. āNo need to be so embarrassed, Vincent, itās only natural for someone like you.ā The hell does that meanā¦?! āYou could have gotten up at any moment and left, I wasnāt keeping you here. You endured such a marathon because you wanted my attention, you wanted to be the center of it.ā
He opens his mouth to protest but nothing comes out. Not even a hope and a prayer that he could make up any kind of excuse.Ā
And so, the Radio Demon continues. āAnd Iām flattered, truly!ā He leans a little closer, voice buzzing with static. āI would be lying if I said that despite all of your weaknesses and folly, there isnāt a part of me that finds you utterly fascinating.ā
Voxās screen instantly glitches again, light blue dusting underneath his eyes as he blinks rapidly. āYouā¦?ā Can Alastor feel the elation running up and down his spine? Thereās no way he can, right? The first part of the sentence was utterly flushed from the media demonās brain as he swallows and tries to focus on something else entirely in the room, lest he say something to ruin this entire encounter.
Fortunately (or maybe not) for him, Alastorās not done. āWith all that in mind, I think you deserve a reward for putting on such a good show for me, my dearest Vincent. After all, Iām sure keeping all of those guffaws locked away didnāt leave you feeling satisfied, did it?ā
Once again, Vox opens his mouth, actually able to formulate a sentence this time. āS-satisfied?!ā He squeaks out as the flush returns. āI really d-donāt thinkā¦!ā How the hell has this man turned him into this pathetic mess?Ā
The Radio Demon is strolling over to the other side of the bar now, gracefully hopping up and crossing his legs before he reaches down to almost affectionately give one stroke of the screen, right under his chin. āThatās true, pal, this isnāt entirely selfless. I want to hear exactly what you were doing such an excellent job of hiding from me.ā
There are more of those stupid, black tentacles now, slithering underneath his button up and immediately going to work on some of the softer areas they had been tormenting a few moments ago. Vox immediately tightens, trying to tug his arms down to no avail with a sharp intake of breath. His immediate reaction is to hold it hold it just based on pure instinct alone. However, a small cough of a laugh exits his throat and Alastorās smile sharpens.
āOh my, donāt hold back on my account, good man! Itās not like anyone can hear you.ā
āE-exceāheh! Exceptā¦youā¦!ā
āBut thatās the fun part for you, now isnāt it?ā Vox barely manages to shoot him a glare as itās interrupted by a sudden swipe against his stomach and he yelps.Ā
Alastor gives a small hum that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. āAh yes! I completely forgot that I was saving something very specific for lastā¦~ā The tips of the tentacles drift upwards to those light blue gills and Vox has a moment of utter panic enter his system like a rush of freezing chill from his cooling fans.
Nonononoā
āAh-hah! Alastorā¦nnnheheā¦!ā He canāt even protest without ruining the small bit of control he has over the sounds coming out of his mouth. āOkayokay, listenā¦!Ā
āIām certainly listening.ā
āYou canā¦do whatever the fuck youāre g-gonna doā¦just notāā He lets out a sudden shriek that heās sure is going to be mocked relentlessly as those tentacles start digging to that tender skin, legs kicking up until they are-too restrained against the floor. āN-noāFUCK! Hah-Alasā!! Nnnheheheā¦!ā
āOh dear, did you think that meant I wouldn't continue?ā
āNotthereNOTTHEREā!!ā
Those red eyes light up. Not in a kind wayāno noāhe was enjoying the torment of it all. āNot there, hm? Oh, you should know better than that, Vincentā
Well heās certainly laughing now, isn't he? He hates how unrestrained it is, how the sound is ripped from his guts and splayed out on his chest for the Radio Demon to hear. His picture box head is starting to glitch and overheat as he feels the tips of those tendrils brush feather-light back and forth across the gills mercilessly, torturously, and almost perfectly to draw out the noises Alastor clearly wants to hear.
āA-Ahahaha-LASTOR!ā
āHmm, I wonder if itās possible for someone to die from laughing too much. I will admit, itās not something Iāve seen before! What do you think, shall we test that theory tonight?ā
Oh shit, heās not stopping.
Fuck, he actually might kill him with thisā¦!
āUnless, of course, you'd like to make a deal~ā
And there it is. Vox can barely make out the words that the Radio Demon is cooing in his direction, his chortling is a few octaves higher. But he can feel the heat from his companionās excitement around him, around the static that wafts so naturally for the little television demon.
He once again tries to pull his arms down, a mechanical whine coming from his lips. āN-noā!! No-hahaHAHA! Notā¦reallySHIT!!ā
āToo bad, then. I suppose Iāll have to entertain myself another way until you have a change of heart.ā
Red claws are reaching up to take a singular antenna between them, a motion that nearly makes Vox shriek with panic. But it ends in horrific elation as the pads of them draw up and down the thin wire, rolling it slightly back and forth as electricity dances between the two rabbit ears.
The result is instantaneous.
āFUCKFUCKFUCKā!!ā If his laughter had been unrestrained before, this was digging from deep inside and throwing it at the wall. Like laughter he had been holding onto for decades, before he had even died, was being forced to the surface. Face flushed and expression of forced delight open and unfiltered for anyone to see.
And if it didn't make the Radio Demon smirk with some pride. In himself, of course. āOoh, that certainly sounds like itās too much to takeāis this spot lethal? I must admit, I wasn't expecting you to impress me with your stamina any further, but willingly putting yourself through this just for my attention? Perhaps you are more masochistic than I was giving you credit for.ā
The picture box is barely able to wheeze through his intermittent silent laughter and Alastor gives a light chuckle that sends shivers down his spine as he watches, those dial eyes glowing slightly. āDo you even know where you are right now?ā
āPLEHEHEHEASEā¦!!ā
Red ears twitch. āTrying to beg me? Oh, thatās quite the clever trick. However, in the spirit of good competition, I think I made my demands very clear. If you truly want me to show mercy, let's make a deal.ā
Vox canāt take it anymore. He truly can't imagine this going on any longer and not losing his mind in the process.
āOKAYOKAYāPFFHAHAHA! JUSTSTAHAHAHAP!ā
And the Radio Demon does immediately stop. The result leaves the television head gasping for breath with residual laughing that ranges from loud guffaws to annoyingly sick little giggles. His entire body feels as though itās been rubbed raw with sandpaper, little sparks of electricity that mirror that burn he wasnāt used to yet when he first realized he could shock people, and himself. Especially himself.
āS-shitā¦ā Alastor is still holding him strong, and he can only assume itās to keep him in place until the details are accounted for. Fucking sadist. āS-soā¦what do you wantā¦ā
āOh? Already ready to speak? Very well: a favor, from you, at any moment of my choosing.ā Heās crossing his other leg over now, those lidded eyes locked onto him.Ā
Oh, that was way too open for his taste. But as he opened his mouth to protest, the tendrils returned to his body, setting up next to his gillsāyesābut also around his hipbones and stomach, fluttering lightly, threatening.
āStipulations are off the table this time, Iām afraid. To the winner go the spoils and you are in far too vulnerable of a position to be making any demands right now, Vincent.ā He adjusts his monocle before his hand is hovering over the antenna again, wiggling claws menacingly close.
Vox will file this away for later. Because there is no way he can let the Radio Demon get away with this.
āF-fineā¦!ā And he gives a squirm. āF-fucking fine, just let me goā¦ā
āGood man!ā The darkness lets him go all at once, drawing a gasp from the picture box as he slinks down to his knees, his legs failing him. There is a brief moment of loss that he feels from the touch alone, but never would he admit such a thing out loud. He instead pulls himself up by the barstool, scrambling for a second on shaking legs before plopping himself on the cushioned seat.
Just in time to see Alastor watching him with a hand over his mouth, hiding that permanent smile that is looking slightly more impish than it was a few minutes ago.
āOh s-shut upā¦ā How embarrassing. No, truly, he canāt even imagine anything worse than what the Radio Demon just put him through. āD-did you plan all of this toā¦ā
āTo achieve a deal made with you? No, I could have done that by ripping each of those little wires from your back one-by-one.ā Incredibly specific. āIt was just an entertaining way to pass the time and give you a clearly much-needed lesson in improving your stamina!ā He leans in close to him. āGaining a favor from you was just a bonus.ā
āP-perfectā¦ā Heās trying to adjust his sweater vest, rubbing the back of his head with a small wince. Why didn't he carry painkillers with himā¦
āAlthough,ā fuck, what the hell? Vox jumps a little when Alastorās voice tickles the side of his head, making him whip around to blink at him. āI will say that your laughter was quite the enticing sound. Considering how loud you can be, I was surprised how much I personally enjoyed it.ā
āT-thank youā¦?āĀ
āMm, I wouldn't be opposed to hearing it again. Next time.ā And he bops his microphone against Voxās screen gently before making his way towards the door of the empty bar.