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The night was still and quiet, a stark contrast from how hell usually was. It was almost surreal how everything had gone calm. It felt wrong. Hell should be in chaos, mortal souls sinning left and right with no restrictions.
And Alastor should not be with Vox…
But he was.
The room was silent, the only sound coming from the oxygen in the tank housing Vox’s beloved sharks and the calming white noise of the radio demon.
The room was thick with unspoken grief and tension so palpable you could almost taste it as Vox keeps Alastor’s head tilted back, cyan claws gentle and cautious as he snipped away at the glowing green threads sewing Alastor’s mouth into a sharp smile.
And Alastor for once, was silent. There was a certain look in his eyes that spoke of the pain and shame he felt for his once biggest enemy to see him so weak and vulnerable. But the memories of Vox’s warmth enveloping Alastor, guarding him from his owner itched at the part of him that knew he could trust the demon. So while normally wary and touch adverse, Alastor finally allowed someone in once more.
The deer overlord’s eyes seem to follow the movements of Vox’s hands, ears pulled back and flinching with each snip of the thread. It felt wrong. To feel the thread slowly loosening and fading, no chain or contract to keep it in place.
It felt like a dream.
Alastor closes his eyes, losing himself to the background noise and the cool touch of Vox’s claws against his coffee skin. He felt…safe. So unbelievably safe in the care of his old pal.
Upon feeling the last of the threads being cut, Alastor opens his eyes, ears slowly lifting up cautiously almost like they themselves were afraid of the results. Like he was expecting for his owner to come crashing though with that maniacal laugh, taunting him as the strings restitched themselves into his face, forcing his lips in a meek smile.
But none of that happened. There was only the white noise and the eyes of the tv demon looking down at the deer with such care he hadn’t seen in decades.
It felt good.
He had missed that.
Vox straightens ups, gazing down at his idol with a contemplative look, digital eyes taking sight of how the soft glow of the room’s neon lights fell on the dark complexion of Alastor.
He looked…
Vox gently rubs his thumbs where they cupped the face of his friend over the corners of Alastor’s smile and cheekbones. He smiles softly, reluctantly pulling his hands away.
“There,” Vox starts, sliding one hand onto Alastor’s shoulder in what he hoped was a soothing way.
“You don’t have to keep smiling anymore…not if you don’t want to.”
Alastor gazes up at Vox unmoving before slowly the muscles in his face twitch, his smile shrinking a bit. There was no obvious movements other than the occasional twitches of the muscles trying to relax.
Alastor looks down, seeming as if he was trying to scold and berate his mouth, brows furrowing. Vox’s smiles fades slightly as he watches his friend suffer, leaning over a bit. Alastor ducks his head, ears pinning against his skull as his antlers sprouted, growing sharper and thinner.
”I̷͎̍͗̀ ̵̰̘̦̈́̔̄͌̑̏s̴̢̡̧̻̰͝t̸̰́̆̋̿͊̕͠į̸̼̪̯̬̩̉͗ḽ̴̝̆͗͆̓̄͝l̸͔̺̙̜̯̟͚͗ ̴̡̨̛͙̜͈͖̥́͋̅̊c̴̜̦̫͚̒̓͒̎̌͜͜͠͝ã̸͈͇͌́͑̓̚͜͝n̴̯͒͐̔’̵̤̦͖͖͊͋̂͠t̷͔͍̮̮̬͈̫͛̐̀̈́̚ ̶̛̱̠̇̈́̚̕s̵͕͔͔̤͇̯̋̈́̈̂̐t̶̲̮͉̗̅ơ̴̢̻̮̤̙̺͋̒̑̚p̶̻̓̿͝ ̶̖̣̟̰̿̐̾͘͠d̷̦͕͍̙̼͓͓̑̈̄̎̓̂o̸̙̘̳̪̺͊͜ͅi̷̼̭͇̭̽̌̋̈́n̶̥̼͇͇͍͚̝̈͆̽́̾g̶͈̰̀͝ ̷̧̢̛͚͓͓̭̎͂̋̇̑ĭ̷̢̗t̸̞͓́̈́̇̑̅̋.”
Vox felt his chest squeeze painfully, watching hopelessly as Alastor’s form shook, wanting to cry but his pride refusing to let him. He wanted to see Alastor in many states…crying wasn’t one of them. Miserable wasn’t one of them.
”Al…” Vox says softly, body itching to comfort Alastor in a way he didn’t think would be allowed.
Vox looks down at the shaking deer, mind going a mile of minute before deciding to throw caution to the wind and pulled the overlord into a gentle but firm embrace. Even when Alastor clearly flinched, Vox didn’t let go. And Alastor didn’t push him away.
”Give yourself time.”