radioshow: (Default)
introducing your bottomest bitch, alastor! ([personal profile] radioshow) wrote in [community profile] badend2025-12-16 07:16 pm

closed to @videokilledtheradiostar


can you take it off just for a little bit? x
videokilledtheradiostar: (34)

[personal profile] videokilledtheradiostar 2026-03-02 01:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[That would be enough, right? Alastor would come back tonight, he’d uphold what he said? Vox didn’t need to worry about anything else other than possibly being murdered in his sleep, which…felt pretty normal as far as all things went.

And yet, here he was feeling reluctant to leave, like if time got in the way it might make Alastor rethink this. Might make himself rethink this stupid, stupid thing. There were a million reasons why it shouldn’t happen, a million reasons he should tie him back to the chair or do his execution, and a million questions like was he just doing this to stop Vox from that killing Charlie order? just bouncing around in his rectangular head.

But he reached out with both his hands and settled them on the Radio Demon’s shoulders like the fool Vox was, leaned forward, and kissed him again with a little spark. This path to Hell was well-worn, familiar, and he kept walking it over and over again, each time with different shoes.]


That works. [They could work out the secrecy later, work out whatever this was later (was it a even a thing to work out?). Future Vox problems could be analyzed with returns reviewed, could decide what the best strategy was; looking at it that way made him feel safely disconnected instead of these raw moments right now.

He wasn’t sure which he preferred. He just knew which one was smarter.

Vox pulled away and turned to walk across the room to head towards the door. Already he was taking the Do Not Disturb off his phone, his screen flickering as the calls started. He stopped for a second, looking back at him.

I’m looking forward to tonight.

But he couldn’t actually say that, so instead he just smiled.]


See you in a few hours.
videokilledtheradiostar: (67)

[personal profile] videokilledtheradiostar 2026-03-02 05:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[There was an impossible amount of overthinking happening between now and then, and more than once he saw Velvette and Val give each other questioning looks when Vox didn’t answer their questions right away. Or the meeting with Carmilla that resulted in incomplete PowerPoint presentations. Or Zestial asking about blahblaholdpeoplestuff. Not that he needed to answer to any of them; he was in charge now, he was a god. But he did explain that this new role took a lot of work, more than originally planned, so presentations and questions needed to fuck off for the moment.

Really, his mind was just wrapped up in Whatever The Satan Just Happened. Alastor just roaming (mostly) free, a threat of death that they both knew probably wasn’t going to happen now, an order ignore, a date for tonight. A date. Was it a date? Shit, should he bring something?

He was overthinking it. He knew he was overthinking it, and when the hour came (and he cited a headache and piles of work to Val, not tonight, babe), he had a bottle of unopened whiskey on the table a box of cigarettes on the nightstand. Two whiskey tumblers star next to it, waiting for them.

The infamous last meal.

Vox played with the idea of leaving his coat off, maybe sitting with his shirt open or the tie off, or-or-or- But he ultimately decided that the full experience led to a good story, and that included the slowburn of everything. Jacket, tie, it all stayed on. Certainly it had nothing to do with how good it felt when Alastor took it off him.

He did pour himself a drink, though.

And then had another one.

And a third just because.

He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t. He was in control of this situation. This was fine. This was fine, as he sat on the edge of his bed, swirling amber in the bottom of his tumbler.

Alastor would come.

It wouldn’t fall apart again. Maybe they would only fight half of the time. That would be considered a vast improvement.]