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Cosimo Galluzzi
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Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć
ellievsbear
macklin celebrini has autism
hello vonnie
todays bird
Mike Driver
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shark vs the universe
Love Begins
occasionally subtle
if i look back, i am lost
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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pixel skylines
I'd rather be in outer space šø
RMH
oozey mess
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from Palestinian Territories
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from United States
seen from United States
@videokilled
If you have ever sent a nasty message to any Valentino writer/mun regarding character shaming, hate, or ācancellingā them: I donāt want you here.
Hazbin is a tv show. With real people role-play writers. Youāre not protecting anyone by being a dick. You cause more damage than a fictional villian. Grow up.
Vox slumped his posture down the toilet lid seat and groaned dramatically.
āYou take forever..ā he muttered flippantly. More akin to a child waiting listlessly at a store than a far grown man in his own apartment.
āThis seat is making my ass numb.. Iām waiting out there.ā
He twitched a bit when the water sprayed everywhere but he was naked so it didnāt really bother. And then he very slowly pushed himself up off his seat. Pushing at his hips and back with a groan.
Vox paused by the door looking back at the wet deer when he made his last plea presumably to get him in the tub. But his body ached to much to even think about how he would get in without asking for help. And he wasnāt going to do that.
āItās clean enough.. clean it out here if youāre so concerned.ā
Vox turned and shuffled over to his closet then. Pulling on the shark print boxers and some baggy black sweatpants. The bed looked so invitingā¦ but he resisted, and instead shuffled toward the kitchen to see what state the food was in. Maybe he could finish it himself.
With Vox gone, Alastor breathed out a sigh. No, he did not think that would have worked either.
Idiot television, he thought, mutinously. Why is it that when he seems to want something, it's urgent, but when I do...
Deciding to brush away whatever lingering resentment he felt for being left alone again, he focused instead on finishing his bath, taking his time in wringing his fur out of excess water once he felt sufficiently cleaned and no longer sticky and unkempt. His fur and hair would curl - he did not really have the gumption to get himself full straightened out, but it hardly mattered.
While he figured out what he wanted to wear, eventually settling on one of Vox's larger shirts which he pulled over himself and buttoned about halfway up, Vox would find that at least most of the prep work had been done before Alastor had been pulled away. All that was left was to douse the meat and sides he'd set out in some salt and pepper and toss it in the oven. Ideally, Vox could handle that much, but if not, Alastor would have eventually stepped out at least half dressed (without any real intent to return to the hotel, for the time being), to do it for them.
He felt better, after being cleaned, but only marginally so. His own body was still aching with the waxing and waning of adrenaline and emotional labor of the last day or so. But he hid it much better than Vox, evidently, even if he was moving just a bit more slowly than he usually did.
It was just as well. He did not think he would garner any sympathy whatsoever if he expressed still being tired.
Reaching up as he returned to the kitchen, he rubbed a bit at the scars that were still scored over his jaw. They stung, a bit, after having been submerged in hot water and scrubbed at amidst Alastor's bid to get clean. But he did not pay them much mind otherwise.
Vox would wander out of the bathroom, and make a detour over to his bar. Fishing around, he did manage to find a baggy of some ivory colored powder that was half used and then tucked away where it didnāt belong. He didnāt know what it was, but he would take anything at this time. So he just upended the bag into his mouth. His expression predictably soured at the bitter sharp taste of it, and grabbed the closest decanter of amber liquor to drown the taste.
After putting that back and digging around for a more predictable upper with no luck, he settled on one of his pricier cigars. It had a more velvety and woodsy smell and he loved how it tasted so he saved them for comfort.
Wandering back over to the kitchen, he made a little blue arch of electricity that wiggled around between his thumb and pointer finger. Similar to those electric lighters. After it started smoking he inhaled deeply and sighed out a contented breath.
Still just in his boxers, he would need a shower soon. Part of him had resisted getting in the tub with Alastor, for more than just mobility reasons. His chest resisted. Sure they had just fucked (or whatever that had been). But snuggling in a hot tub was more intimacy than he was ready for. There was a lot happeningā very quickly. A week ago Vox hadnāt spoken to the traitor in months. And as fast as Vox loved to move, his emotions still tracked like a slug.
Vox observed the food in prep, and poked at the meat just to see it spring back, then pouted when there was nothing to immediately sate his munchies. Sure he had taken part in some cooking shenanigans, but he had no interest in actually cooking. So He just shuffled over to the comfy chair in the corner that let him see both the hallway and the kitchen to wait for the radio. He spread his legs out comfortably and slid down a bit. Resting his head back on the chair and smoking slowly.
On and off debating how best to get in without being seen. And trying to suss out what and who Rosie would be looking for, Alastor mentioned that they were to investigate Lute as a ādanger to allā.. but that felt like a cover. Why would that be of help to Rosie.
His shark boxers rode up his thighs a quite a bit when he had slid down and sort of made his junk look comically pronounced. Not helped by having two in there. But he didnāt notice his eyes mostly shut. The hand that held the cigar was picking at the scabs on his chest again when he wasnāt taking a hit.
The more he wiped at his skin with the towel, the more insufficient it felt. Maybe he did want to get into the tub, but getting out (and in also actually..) seemed like it would hurt his sore muscles and he didnāt- wouldnāt rely on the deer to get him out of the tub like a geriatric. Ignoring Alastorās boasting of ability.
The whole thing felt like an ordeal. So he would abstain. And settle for this fucking towel that was already drying up as his skin leeched the water from it. His skin was used to showering often and it was visibly dry and ashy from the last day or so, hell was a much more brutal environment then his curated tower.
Vox a bit more lethargically reached over and got the towel more wet and then started rubbing it over his midsection as the other started yapping.
He listened as he felt better little by little from the towel bath. It was still relatively early in the morning. Having come from Rosieās and then the failure of a breakfast spot. And somewhere in the midst of Alastorās regaling he remembered how hungry he was.
Ordering food to his second properties with his card and accounts was suspicious and bound to draw attention from the Vās if not whoever tried to end him.
Vox had a moment where he slowed and his expression slid into a thousand yard stare at nothing, suddenly remembering more details of that moment that he couldnāt recall before. He didnāt know how he felt about it though- the recollection seemed to hollow him out. Alastorās voice miles away.
It hadnāt been scary. He didnāt get scared like that.
With some effort Vox blinked away the weird spaced out moment but was having some real trouble catching up to what Alastor was saying again. The whole moment had only been a few seconds.
Vox nodded finally when Alastor reiterated with āonce we find a way up..ā
His eyes blinked several times and he took a very deep breath and sat up much straighter. Trying to shake off the fuzzy feeling.
When Alastor looked at him with the sudden conviction, it probably looked more obvious to the radio demon, maybe even more so than to Vox, that he was shaking off some odd moment of recollection.
The statement was something Vox could easily reply to though, which gave him a welcome foothold to jump back in like it never happened.
āWell that wonāt happen for two reasons- one is I donāt fucking fail at fetch. And the other being youāre tied to me.ā He said it like it was annoying the other had omitted the blatant blockade to that concern. Whatever wobble in confidence that had flitted over him was gone in a moment.
He took another deep breath as he stretched his arms up, his gills more obviously flaring this time, enough so that the little frills tucked inside fluttering were more visible.
āIām still fucking hungry and if I donāt eat soon Iām going make a problem.ā
Vox certainly had a lot of faith in himself for someone who had already failed once - and spectacularly, too. Perhaps not at fetching, per se, but Alastor presumed the other would not appreciate the semantics. For the moment, he allowed Vox's words to satisfy him - or at least make the possibility of being sent away seem less harrowing. He would not be alone this time, remembering that in the midst of his quests, he'd spent long swaths of time in stark isolation.
Steeped into an abyss of nothing. Where all he had was his own mind and the memories of things he'd left behind.
Even now, the thought made him want to shudder despite the heat of the bath, pulled out of his own focus of that potential by the other's griping. His eyes ventured down to those gills, silently pleased that they seemed undeterred from their function, though Alastor could not keep himself from giving a small huff.
"I was in the middle of making something when I was distracted," he said, reminding Vox of exactly what had occurred prior to their tryst on the couch.
"I will continue once I am clean."
He was not about to go speeding to Vox's beck and call, however. Not when wanted to ensure that he was thoroughly washed, reaching for another of the unused towels and beginning to scrub at his own limbs, eventually dousing his head beneath the water to get it soaked through.
Unluckily, for Vox, he would get a decent spraying of water as Alastor shook the moisture from his curly locks.
He had noticed something like a stark dissociation in the other's expression not a few minutes earlier, but he lacked the ability to do much about it. For now, he would concentrate on washing through his fur and paying attention to his own scars, pausing to glance up at Vox's in turn.
"...You really should let me clean that properly," he muttered, brow furrowing. Another attempt made, perhaps to re-establish some sort of close proximity between them - but he had a feeling that the moment had passed, and Vox would be loathe to start it once more unless it was on his own terms.
Still, he eyed the other pointedly.
Vox was lucky the radio demon didn't often pull out something akin to puppy eyes.
Vox slumped his posture down the toilet lid seat and groaned dramatically.
āYou take forever..ā he muttered flippantly. More akin to a child waiting listlessly at a store than a far grown man in his own apartment.
āThis seat is making my ass numb.. Iām waiting out there.ā
He twitched a bit when the water sprayed everywhere but he was naked so it didnāt really bother. And then he very slowly pushed himself up off his seat. Pushing at his hips and back with a groan.
Vox paused by the door looking back at the wet deer when he made his last plea presumably to get him in the tub. But his body ached to much to even think about how he would get in without asking for help. And he wasnāt going to do that.
āItās clean enough.. clean it out here if youāre so concerned.ā
Vox turned and shuffled over to his closet then. Pulling on the shark print boxers and some baggy black sweatpants. The bed looked so invitingā¦ but he resisted, and instead shuffled toward the kitchen to see what state the food was in. Maybe he could finish it himself.
Vox was hard pressed to ever lean on his age or mention feeling old, but it was times like these he swore he could feel the familiar weight of aging on his muscles from before they had crossed over.
Or he just needed some baggy contents.
His claws dragged over the crusty scabbed area of his chest. Still at least mostly neatly stitched up but agitated and a few busted threads broken from his hasty forced escape from the cannibal town.
The claws would scrape back and forth across the itchy dried areas and find some part to pick at until an unsavory piece came loose. Then he would brush it away and move on to do it again.
The brief moment of put on spite was gone like it had been thrust upon him against his will in the first place, and his red thin and lidded eyes sat lower than the equator of his screen. Another habit when he was feeling run down.
The little blue sharp pupils lifted up to regard the other just in time to see the little irritated ear flick directed at the phone in his hands. He didnāt want to think about what it meant that he could tell the difference between ear flicks.
āIāll give it back later. Becoming quite the little iPad kid arenāt we~?ā He teased. His voice was slower and deeper than normal, a shocking bareness to it.
āI donāt think if I got in that tub.. that I could get out as easily.,.ā His muscles were screaming with the repeated gauntlets. Vox pocketed the phone and reached over to grab the hand towel and turned on the sink to wet it.
He would use the warm water of the tub, but if he got close. That red kraken would pull him in.
So he dragged himself to the toilet and sat on the lid of it, barely stifling a groan as he did. Then started wiping off his wound. Trying to rub away all the dried blood all over again because it was making it itchy. The cold water wasnāt making it as easy as the hot water would make it.
Then he wiped at where his skin had been soiled haphazardly. But he would still have sweat on his skin. And went right back to rubbing at his wound- with the now sweaty towel no less. Clearly he saw no issue though.
āSo when do we get to the part where you spill the actual motives of the planā¦ā he added quietly more as an afterthought.
Snuffing lightly at the other's comment about the phone, he decided to not justify it with a response. It was less that he wanted it back - more that he did not like the idea that Vox was messaging anyone else with it. But there was little to be done about that, he knew, and so he would not press the matter, finding himself too tired to do so.
"What, you think I couldn't carry you just as easily as I've done before?" Alastor decided to say instead, offering a bit of his usual smarm in the words. "You're not that heavy. And I am stronger than I look."
But he was sure that Vox would be too stubborn to accept the olive branch, and so he was unsurprised when the other decided instead to use the water from the sink. It certainly would not do him as much good as a true bath would, but at least he'd be just a bit cleaner. Not so sticky.
Fine. He'd have to be content with that.
Alastor slid a little deeper into his hot water with a small sigh, his own muscles relaxing as much as they were capable of as he began to gently run his hands over his limbs, sifting water through the fur to ensure that he cleaned off any lingering evidence of their salacious deeds.
Vox's words did not immediately receive a response as Alastor's eyes closed and he ruminated.
"You say that like she tells me much of anything," he muttered, before he fully realized that... He felt no pinpricks at his spine for his honesty. Perhaps because Rosie needed to trust him to get the thing done... she was not inclined to continue to punish him. Or perhaps Vox now was in the sphere of those-who-need-to-know.
But now he felt his mouth run, as much as he was able to allow it.
"In the seven years I was gone, she had me... searching. For signs of... someone. I always assumed that perhaps it might have been a past lover, or... something. But she declined to tell me much. It's only now that she's starting to be more... pointed about it, I suppose. To the point where now she believes this person to be in Heaven. And so that is what I am meant to do. Find a means to get up past the damned pearly gates themselves to find this... whoever."
He huffed, relief evident in the way he carried his shoulders. Like he had been keeping such truths in for far too long.
"She only tells me things as I need to know them. Once we find a means to get up there, unrestrained, then she may reveal more. But she does not want to give her whole hand away without knowing that we can accomplish it first."
Eyes opening once more, he glanced over at Vox with a sudden realization:
"...If we fail... Or if we... come back with no evidence, then... I've no doubt that that is when she will ferry me off to keep looking. She is determined."
The more he wiped at his skin with the towel, the more insufficient it felt. Maybe he did want to get into the tub, but getting out (and in also actually..) seemed like it would hurt his sore muscles and he didnāt- wouldnāt rely on the deer to get him out of the tub like a geriatric. Ignoring Alastorās boasting of ability.
The whole thing felt like an ordeal. So he would abstain. And settle for this fucking towel that was already drying up as his skin leeched the water from it. His skin was used to showering often and it was visibly dry and ashy from the last day or so, hell was a much more brutal environment then his curated tower.
Vox a bit more lethargically reached over and got the towel more wet and then started rubbing it over his midsection as the other started yapping.
He listened as he felt better little by little from the towel bath. It was still relatively early in the morning. Having come from Rosieās and then the failure of a breakfast spot. And somewhere in the midst of Alastorās regaling he remembered how hungry he was.
Ordering food to his second properties with his card and accounts was suspicious and bound to draw attention from the Vās if not whoever tried to end him.
Vox had a moment where he slowed and his expression slid into a thousand yard stare at nothing, suddenly remembering more details of that moment that he couldnāt recall before. He didnāt know how he felt about it though- the recollection seemed to hollow him out. Alastorās voice miles away.
It hadnāt been scary. He didnāt get scared like that.
With some effort Vox blinked away the weird spaced out moment but was having some real trouble catching up to what Alastor was saying again. The whole moment had only been a few seconds.
Vox nodded finally when Alastor reiterated with āonce we find a way up..ā
His eyes blinked several times and he took a very deep breath and sat up much straighter. Trying to shake off the fuzzy feeling.
When Alastor looked at him with the sudden conviction, it probably looked more obvious to the radio demon, maybe even more so than to Vox, that he was shaking off some odd moment of recollection.
The statement was something Vox could easily reply to though, which gave him a welcome foothold to jump back in like it never happened.
āWell that wonāt happen for two reasons- one is I donāt fucking fail at fetch. And the other being youāre tied to me.ā He said it like it was annoying the other had omitted the blatant blockade to that concern. Whatever wobble in confidence that had flitted over him was gone in a moment.
He took another deep breath as he stretched his arms up, his gills more obviously flaring this time, enough so that the little frills tucked inside fluttering were more visible.
āIām still fucking hungry and if I donāt eat soon Iām going make a problem.ā
Vox was uninterested in listening to much of anything while he was tangled up with the deer. The warmth that changed the otherās smell only really noticeable in moments like this where they were both heated naked and pressed up against each other. Some deeply buried and yet structural proverbial battery slowly recharging while they remained entwined. It had been so long.
The kiss did not rouse him even marginally, and he didnāt react otherwise.
The deep navy skin of his limbs was dry and somewhat cracked and looked itchy. The last few days and treatment had disrupted whatever modicum of skincare the other did happen to maintain. But his arms twitched in an effort to grip the other closer when Alastor was about halfway up- but too little to late and he had escaped.
Thatās when his brain turned over in its deep sleep grave to decipher the words said by the radio.
āā¦leaving..?ā He said just from word association, very groggy. His brain feasting on this stress relief like a drug.
Vox finally blinked open his eyes a slit and looked down at the form occupying the space- Alastorās space. A fucking cushion.
The black eyebrows immediately pinched down to glare at it. He grabbed it in the middle and whipped it over himself to spike it at the floor. He had been doing too much cushion hugging lately at his tower already.
He looked around the dim apartment not seeing the red fuzzball anywhere. When did he get so fucking speedy right out of bed..
He spied the bathroom door swinging just a fraction as it came to rest, and the lights of the bathroom turn on.
āDonāt fucking wait up..ā he muttered and very slowly moved to sit upright. The soreness was rampant. Carefully pushing at his back to try and get some cracks and pops, he rubbed at his skin and looked at the state of the couch. They had definitely added a stain. But the couch hadnāt been doing good anyway after the collateral damage from their multiple fights.
It took another 10 minutes or so, but Vox did shuffle his way over to the bathroom. Not entirely sure what his goal was by following. And he would turn around if Alastor was cheeky about it. He leaned his hips against the sink counter, tapping on the phone that was Alastorās. The one that Vox had overtaken.
Hovering somewhere between a light doze and wakefulness as he marinated in the hot, steaming water of the bath, Alastor's ears gave a flick of what could almost be construed as delight when they detected the footsteps of the approaching Vox. He'd not wanted to believe that the other would find it within himself to push away from the couch and to join him, nonetheless. And even now, as he entered and settled himself nearby against the sink, Alastor would have to be content with that much.
Even if he might have badgered Vox into cleaning himself up on a normal day.
But it was clear that the radio demon was a bit mollified by all that had occurred, and he turned his head to glance at the other, half weary and half pleased, though there was the smallest flicker of annoyance that made its way up to one of his twitching ears when he noticed the other tapping away at that phone.
He'd not forgotten that he had been punished by way of removal of some of the photos that he'd realized he'd rather liked having. Even if they were just for himself.
Alastor could not find it in himself, however, to complain about it, eyes venturing upwards from underneath his dampened, curled bangs to peer at Vox.
"There is room for you. If you are not so inclined to run around looking and feeling a mess for the rest of the day," he hummed.
"It's a bit hot though."
If the vapors of some slight steam did not indicate as such.
There were a few lingering moments where Alastor's eyes fell upon Vox's wounds, stitched cleanly now, but still reminiscent of what had befallen him. Not wanting to belabor his own distress about them, he turned his gaze back down towards himself - and his own wound.
They were not matching, precisely. But there was an irony in the placement of both of their stitches, so neatly put together by Rosie. She must have been sick of them both.
Vox was hard pressed to ever lean on his age or mention feeling old, but it was times like these he swore he could feel the familiar weight of aging on his muscles from before they had crossed over.
Or he just needed some baggy contents.
His claws dragged over the crusty scabbed area of his chest. Still at least mostly neatly stitched up but agitated and a few busted threads broken from his hasty forced escape from the cannibal town.
The claws would scrape back and forth across the itchy dried areas and find some part to pick at until an unsavory piece came loose. Then he would brush it away and move on to do it again.
The brief moment of put on spite was gone like it had been thrust upon him against his will in the first place, and his red thin and lidded eyes sat lower than the equator of his screen. Another habit when he was feeling run down.
The little blue sharp pupils lifted up to regard the other just in time to see the little irritated ear flick directed at the phone in his hands. He didnāt want to think about what it meant that he could tell the difference between ear flicks.
āIāll give it back later. Becoming quite the little iPad kid arenāt we~?ā He teased. His voice was slower and deeper than normal, a shocking bareness to it.
āI donāt think if I got in that tub.. that I could get out as easily.,.ā His muscles were screaming with the repeated gauntlets. Vox pocketed the phone and reached over to grab the hand towel and turned on the sink to wet it.
He would use the warm water of the tub, but if he got close. That red kraken would pull him in.
So he dragged himself to the toilet and sat on the lid of it, barely stifling a groan as he did. Then started wiping off his wound. Trying to rub away all the dried blood all over again because it was making it itchy. The cold water wasnāt making it as easy as the hot water would make it.
Then he wiped at where his skin had been soiled haphazardly. But he would still have sweat on his skin. And went right back to rubbing at his wound- with the now sweaty towel no less. Clearly he saw no issue though.
āSo when do we get to the part where you spill the actual motives of the planā¦ā he added quietly more as an afterthought.
Voxās digital eyes opened partially, but the blue pupils were still upward and hidden under most of his proverbial eyelids. And after the first prod didnāt become more urgent then the calm mumble, the eyelids gradually slid back down.
A part of him was agitated at the amount of exhaustion was plaguing him. But with the extent of the injury and complications in recovery, plus the emotional minefield they both insisted on maintaining, and even additionally his propensity for negating his emotions until they exhausted him enough to seep throughā¦
Anyone that knew him wouldnāt be surprised by the sluggishness.
The tune filtering to a stop as the other roused more unfortunately seemed to have the opposite effect of in turn rousing him. Without the part of his awareness clinging to the appreciation of the song, Vox seemed to slide in a marginally deeper sleep.
Definitely not bothered even remotely as much as his companion that there was the remnants between them, and no small amount either. Enough that it had smeared in movement and penetrated the fur barrier there too.
Beyond what Alastor knew, Vox had been put in the Vee branded dog house since his big scene. There had been a lot of volatile emotions from all parties, and very little if any resolving of them.
Had he been ostracized for endangering his team? No. But Vox would be the call it that as long as the others werenāt within ear shot. Valentino was hurt, distant, and withholding the intimacy that they had engaged in somewhat regularly. Val had moved out of the shared master bedroom.
Vox was one that thrived on contact. Touching. Tactile. Even when inappropriate, he sought it out. The last few weeks that had turned to months since the event, he had spent more time alone or distanced- not always by choice- than he had in the last one or two decades. Routines fractured.
Some very slim part of him understood their reaction. But the larger louder part, would and had tried anything to make the Veeās just move on from it already.
This seemed to exacerbate his predicament. Frustrated was too gentle of a word for what he felt in the Vee tower presently. Why he wasnāt eager to get back to the new and yet so stale.. turmoil in his own house.
And this tryst of him and Alastorās had been the first of its type in several weeks for Vox, arguably months. Vox was not keen on rushing itā or it ending.
All this to say there was some turmoil in the sleep, but much less than there had been for Vox in a while. He had never thought he would be the type to care if he had to sleep alone. Regardless if he was used to sleeping with the moth overlord every night. He had been confident in his ability to be unaffected.
And it was exhausting.
Vox didnāt budge an inch after his eyes slid closed again. Vaguely awake, mostly asleep, somewhat dozing.
No, that had never worked in their past rendezvous and Alastor was not certain why he believed it would work now. But he was loathe to cause what he believed would be a foul mood to sully their earlier activities by rousing Vox more persistently - always having to walk on eggshells if he wanted to keep the peace. But the longer he remained, the more uncomfortable he grew - not with the proximity between him and Vox, but simply because he was a mess. It was a sensory nightmare, and made his fur stand on end the longer he remained steeped within it.
He breathed out a small sigh, resigning himself to being the one to have to ruin it, but doing his best to try and alleviate it by some small measure, leaning to press a small kiss right to Vox's face before beginning to wriggle away. He would replace his own body with that of one of the sofa cushions if it made Vox feel at all better, but he had doubts that it would.
"I'm not going anywhere far," he said, uncertain if he would be heard or not, but eventually he would free himself from the confines of the other's body, lamenting the loss of the warmth himself, but knowing that it would have to be traded.
"If you feel so compelled, you can join me in the bath." Or not. Whatever his preference was. But once he was able to push himself to stand, he would be making his steady way to the bathroom where he could start up the hot steam and eventually sink himself into the hot water, eyes shutting as he hummed contentedly.
Alastor would not hope that Vox would find himself in a decent enough mood to leave the living area, but perhaps he would be pleasantly surprised.
Expectations were low.
Regardless, he found his muscles relaxing and he leaned back against the side of the tub, still rather exhausted himself. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. But for once, the loud, raucous cry of his own internal regret for all that had occurred prior to now had quieted.
Alastor would never truly be at peace - that was not his fate.
But for the moment, he felt closer to it than he had before, his mind reveling on the tie that now existed between he and Vox. He could sense it when he focused: the metaphysical link.
It soothed him. Much more than he was willing to admit.
Even here, in the small sanctuary of the bath, Alastor knew he was not alone.
Vox was uninterested in listening to much of anything while he was tangled up with the deer. The warmth that changed the otherās smell only really noticeable in moments like this where they were both heated naked and pressed up against each other. Some deeply buried and yet structural proverbial battery slowly recharging while they remained entwined. It had been so long.
The kiss did not rouse him even marginally, and he didnāt react otherwise.
The deep navy skin of his limbs was dry and somewhat cracked and looked itchy. The last few days and treatment had disrupted whatever modicum of skincare the other did happen to maintain. But his arms twitched in an effort to grip the other closer when Alastor was about halfway up- but too little to late and he had escaped.
Thatās when his brain turned over in its deep sleep grave to decipher the words said by the radio.
āā¦leaving..?ā He said just from word association, very groggy. His brain feasting on this stress relief like a drug.
Vox finally blinked open his eyes a slit and looked down at the form occupying the space- Alastorās space. A fucking cushion.
The black eyebrows immediately pinched down to glare at it. He grabbed it in the middle and whipped it over himself to spike it at the floor. He had been doing too much cushion hugging lately at his tower already.
He looked around the dim apartment not seeing the red fuzzball anywhere. When did he get so fucking speedy right out of bed..
He spied the bathroom door swinging just a fraction as it came to rest, and the lights of the bathroom turn on.
āDonāt fucking wait up..ā he muttered and very slowly moved to sit upright. The soreness was rampant. Carefully pushing at his back to try and get some cracks and pops, he rubbed at his skin and looked at the state of the couch. They had definitely added a stain. But the couch hadnāt been doing good anyway after the collateral damage from their multiple fights.
It took another 10 minutes or so, but Vox did shuffle his way over to the bathroom. Not entirely sure what his goal was by following. And he would turn around if Alastor was cheeky about it. He leaned his hips against the sink counter, tapping on the phone that was Alastorās. The one that Vox had overtaken.
Canāt a Tv have more than one dream? *shakes head*
VEELENTINO didnāt tag me in this so they hate me probably
Summertime Hartfelt~ [ Reference ]
Tj hates women month
I hope everyone can find a partner as attentive and considerate and loving as my schmoopie š„¹š
Sniffle I love them Iām so excited to be closer
i have 62 active arrest warrants
I hope everyone can find a partner as attentive and considerate and loving as my schmoopie š„¹š
Sniffle I love them Iām so excited to be closer
The silence went on and padded by the nameless little tune. Vox didnāt notice consciously because he had focused in on the heartbeat like sensations. It was very soothing for some reason.
He wanted a cigar but he didnāt want to move, and eventually he gave up on it. Deciding to just give in to sleep. Vox pushed himself up just a little bit and to the side another inch so he would crush Alastor less. But this also exposed the mess that had been pressed between them from not only Al but also both of Voxās. The cool air on it didnāt bother him.
Vox settled further, entrapping Alastor further before sighing. The one antenna left gave a little content bounce, while the stem of the broken one gave a little spark and sizzle.
If Alastor wanted to get up now he would have a very displeased tv. It was dozing time for him.
The shifting of Vox's body was met with the smallest of protests by Alastor, but when he settled again, the radio demon quieted once more. He was uncomfortable once he became much more aware of what remained buried in his fur - but for the moment, he decided to swallow back that discomfort in favor of the peace between them, his face giving a slight nuzzle against the warmth of Vox's screen that drew him in.
That alone was calming enough for him to remain where he was, arms relaxing in their wrap around Vox's slightly larger body so that he too permitted himself to doze. Alastor would likely not be able to fully commit to a deep sleep, given that he was still nude and messy - but it would be enough to allow Vox to rest for some time.
Until hunger began to prod at him at the same time as his bodily discomfort.
By then, an hour had passed or so. Maybe a little more than that - but Alastor was not exactly keeping tabs on the time.
An eye opened and he leaned forward enough to nudge his nose up against Vox's face. A little bit annoying and obnoxious, but at least giving the impression that he was enjoying the contact between them.
"...I need a bath," he mumbled sleepily. "And food."
He did not know if that would be enough to rouse Vox from his impromptu nap, but the urges were not so dire that the radio demon felt panicked for any real reason.
"So do you."
Voxās digital eyes opened partially, but the blue pupils were still upward and hidden under most of his proverbial eyelids. And after the first prod didnāt become more urgent then the calm mumble, the eyelids gradually slid back down.
A part of him was agitated at the amount of exhaustion was plaguing him. But with the extent of the injury and complications in recovery, plus the emotional minefield they both insisted on maintaining, and even additionally his propensity for negating his emotions until they exhausted him enough to seep throughā¦
Anyone that knew him wouldnāt be surprised by the sluggishness.
The tune filtering to a stop as the other roused more unfortunately seemed to have the opposite effect of in turn rousing him. Without the part of his awareness clinging to the appreciation of the song, Vox seemed to slide in a marginally deeper sleep.
Definitely not bothered even remotely as much as his companion that there was the remnants between them, and no small amount either. Enough that it had smeared in movement and penetrated the fur barrier there too.
Beyond what Alastor knew, Vox had been put in the Vee branded dog house since his big scene. There had been a lot of volatile emotions from all parties, and very little if any resolving of them.
Had he been ostracized for endangering his team? No. But Vox would be the call it that as long as the others werenāt within ear shot. Valentino was hurt, distant, and withholding the intimacy that they had engaged in somewhat regularly. Val had moved out of the shared master bedroom.
Vox was one that thrived on contact. Touching. Tactile. Even when inappropriate, he sought it out. The last few weeks that had turned to months since the event, he had spent more time alone or distanced- not always by choice- than he had in the last one or two decades. Routines fractured.
Some very slim part of him understood their reaction. But the larger louder part, would and had tried anything to make the Veeās just move on from it already.
This seemed to exacerbate his predicament. Frustrated was too gentle of a word for what he felt in the Vee tower presently. Why he wasnāt eager to get back to the new and yet so stale.. turmoil in his own house.
And this tryst of him and Alastorās had been the first of its type in several weeks for Vox, arguably months. Vox was not keen on rushing itā or it ending.
All this to say there was some turmoil in the sleep, but much less than there had been for Vox in a while. He had never thought he would be the type to care if he had to sleep alone. Regardless if he was used to sleeping with the moth overlord every night. He had been confident in his ability to be unaffected.
And it was exhausting.
Vox didnāt budge an inch after his eyes slid closed again. Vaguely awake, mostly asleep, somewhat dozing.
rosie and alastor part 5/??
@radioiaci
(he's literally so cute how can u hate this diva)
vox would never actually be into valentino bc valentino abuses him and he clearly goes crying in secret and he just wants to escape and be good again and he's also a bottom im cancelling you - definitely not plum
You know I was excited about this for a second. Most people donāt sign their name after selecting anonymous my sister in christ
you should get alastor pregnant before anyone else can tbh
What if he had 6 babies for his 6 nipples.
Why does he even have 6 nipples.
Maybe he can get pregnant.
