Work Text:
Despite everything, Velvette comes into Vox's room at 11 pm almost sharp; holding three boxes of pizza in one hand, and a bag with three take out drinks in the other.
It's empty. She knows it'll be empty. The clock might've struck the time of their weekly movie night, but Vox sent a text on the groupchat that he'll be late (without so much as a fucking explanation, or even a sorry, at that); in response to which Valentino flooded her DMs with voice messages, cursing out his partner for breaking his word yet again. It was one of those times when she couldn't call him over-dramatic or blame him for the screams and strings of Spanish curses- she's fucking pissed as well, and she wasn't the one missing out on all the "insane sex" Val can't ever shut up about.
Velvette and Valentino might be used to relying on one another, but neither of them are used to relying just on each other. They're not used to being this mad at Vox. Or at least, mad together and mad for such a long period of time. The dynamic of their trio has been shifting, and it's confusing, frustrating and fucked up, and, worst of all, they have to keep their fucking mouths shut about it. They can't let sinners see that the all-powerful Vees are fighting. Not fucking now, when they were so close to achieving their goal. Or Vox's stupid fucking goal, she guesses. Fuck his stupid fucking plan-
…but still, as mad as she is, she's not stupid enough to risk their power collapsing just because Vox is more of a dick than usual. That's something for them to settle, behind closed doors. Which is hard to do when Vox is constantly out doing shit without them. So Velvette just grits her teeth.
(And today wasn't going to be about settling things, anyway. It was just supposed to be an attempt at keeping things normal between them. But that's besides the point.)
69 voice messages from Val. Mad, frustrated. Furious. One eventually saying that shooting his new movie is going shit and they're probably going to re-shoot the whole thing, take it from the top. In other words, he felt like taking out his anger on his employees, possibly literally tearing someone to shreds in the process, and he wouldn't be getting to their movie night on time either.
Which was… fair. He's mad. She's not in the mood to calm him down, too mad herself. It's for the best. Maybe when the flat-faced fucking bitch sees he's been ghosted by both his besties, he'll realize that he's fucked up, and maybe he'll actually say sorry. Or, well, at the very least do whatever-the-fuck he does to Val to apologize to him. Those two are more or less used to fighting and making up. As for Velvette, she's not sure if she'll be getting an apology for anything that motherfucker has done anymore.
Anyway. Their weekly movie night is either cancelled or postponed. First time since… feels like forever. It was something as sacred as something can be in hell. Maybe that's why, despite all that shit, Velvette still lets herself into Vox's room, almost painfully aware that she's going to be there all alone.
Flicking the light on with her elbow, she walks over to the couch, setting the take out down on the coffee table. Straightens up, hands on hips. So fucking weird, this place to be so quiet. No TV playing in the background, no Vox doing paperwork at his desk, no Valentino already laid out on the couch, sketching something. No… nothing.
It's empty. It's quiet. It's…
"Salutations Velvette, my dear!"
It's not fucking empty.
She almost jumps up, her head doing a sudden 180 turn to look back at the other side of the room.
"Fucking shit, Alastor!" The Radio Demon sits in the shadows, smiling as wide as ever, blinking at her innocently. How has she missed the glow of his golden teeth, she has no idea- He's tied to that swivel chair, but the bonds don't seem painfully tight right now; as he's sitting cross-legged and annoyingly calm, the red eyes drill into her with something on the edge of curiosity and amusement. She turns around to face him, snapping her head back in place. "Holy fuck- Give me a fucking warning next time, you scared the shit out of me!"
Alastor just tilts his head.
"Well, it was you who didn't knock."
Velvette scoffs- she's not going to play his little game. Crossing her arms, the slightest crease in her brow appears as she looks the Radio Demon up and down again.
"Whatcha doing here, anyway? Didn't Vox drag you along for his dirty business?"
"Oh, thank goodness, he didn't! I suppose it wasn't something that required him boasting about his victory, so he spared me from the great displeasure of having to see his stupid box of a head and listen to him chattering for a couple of hours." He shrugs. "As to what I am doing here, I am doing absolutely nothing! I am slowly drowning in my own boredom. Thank you for asking!" He turns around on the chair and, with one confident push, sends himself riding across the room — rolling up next to the Vee in a matter of seconds. "And what are you doing here?"
She huffs, rolling her eyes before sitting down on the couch.
"If you're so bored, Valentino's shooting downstairs. Surely that's more entertaining than sitting in an empty fucking room?"
"Well, technically, it could be. I actually paid the floor a brief visit- call it a testimony of my misery." His ear flickers, as well as his eyelid, while his smile remains as wide as ever. "But it's not half as fun as your shows, my dear! There was… how do I put it… not enough blood, and far too many other fluids, for my taste."
Velvette chuckles, shaking her head slightly.
"Yep, that's Val for you. You're really not into fucking at all, huh?"
"I really am not!" Alastor agrees eagerly. Then tilts his head, narrowing his eyes slightly; it's like he's staring into her very soul. "And yet, you haven't answered my question, dear! What are you doing here? It is far more unusual for you to march in here unannounced than for me, that TV-head's captive, to be here!" She pouts, eyes drifting to the side. It feels as if Alastor's smile just gets wider at that. "So? What is the Social Media Overlord doing, sitting in her co-worker's empty bedroom? While I don't get much of a choice, surely you have better things to do."
"On Friday nights, I don't." She snaps.
An intrigued eyebrow shoots up on Alastor's face.
"Oh? And whatever does that mean?" Her hand curls into a fist on her sleeve. She's still not looking at him. "Oh, please- It's not like I have someone to tell! I'll gladly lend an ear in turn for some good tea, that you know."
…she does, actually. While Alastor is Vox's prisoner first and foremost, and Vox was certainly enjoying dragging the demon's sorry ass everywhere he went, she and Valentino did have turns spending time with the Radio Demon — whether be it by their own choice, or driven by Alastor's search for entertainment, or Vox putting them on babysitting duty. Either way, point was they talked, spent time with each other, and… vibed. Maybe surprisingly so. Velvette especially found she and Alastor are on the same wavelength; despite that absolutely disgusting hairdo, he does have a fashion sense, and man is he a gossip girl. He's been selling Velvette delightful shit on other overlords, and embarrassing facts from the times he and Vox used to be… whatever the fuck they were back in the day, because she still struggles to label that, actually. And at the same time, Alastor's a wonderful listener whenever she feels the need to shittalk someone.
But… No matter how shitty Vox's behavior has been, and no matter how surprisingly well she got along with the Radio Demon, ranting to Alastor about his biggest rival and her best friend felt almost like treason.
…her best friend, who wrote a bullshit "Work held me back, I'll be late or won't make it tonight" as an explanation for breaking their tradition?
Oh, fuck this.
"It's just… Friday nights are… our nights." Her voice breaks a bit; her tone is unsure, hesitant. "We spend them together, watching stupid reality shows or movies on Voxflix or some shit, eat pizza and… and we've been doing it pretty much ever since we've become a team. And Vox cancelled tonight, and…" She lets out a frustrated groan. "And, just- Vox is such a bitch lately!"
"Only lately?" Alastor asks, and Velvette sends him a glare.
"Lend an ear, doll. That involves shutting up."
The demon rolls his eyes, but doesn't argue.
"Right. My apologies. Go on."
She still waits for a beat, almost hesitant. Glances at Alastor, as he raises an expecting eyebrow. Breathe in, breathe out.
"I just… I know that he's very fucking enthusiastic about this whole becoming a god thing, and- And the capturing YOU thing, but-" She groans, stopping herself from pulling on her hair only by the possibility of destroying her perfect hairstyle by doing that. "But he's being an asshole! To us, as well- Dismissing us all the time, outright ignoring us, making me look fucking stupid in front of that BITCH, Carmilla Carmine- like what the fuck was that?!" She looks at the demon, who only nods; surprisingly respectful of her request to shut up. "Making me apologize — like I had anything to apologize for, by the way — was one fucking thing, but saying I fucked up that Overlord meeting is crossing a fucking line- That's just fucking bullshit! I was the one who got our confirmation on the fact that this bitch slayed the exorcist!"
"Ah, yes, indeed- And moreover, the head you brought was quite tasty." Alastor adds on seamlessly. She just gives him another stare, which was supposed to be more of an what the fuck kind of look than a shut the fuck up look, but he shook his head all the same. "Ah, excuse my interruptions-!"
"No, it's- not that, just… the fuck you mean it…? You know what, I don't actually wanna know, never mind. What I meant to say is-" She stops, trying to formulate her thoughts; finally groans, pinching her nose. "He's just being such a cunt, and- It's not a matter of one fuck up, he's far into a series of dick moves and it doesn't seem like he'll be breaking that streak anytime soon. And with how he's been treating us lately, he should be here, today, and apologetic as fuck. But no! He can't make it tonight. He's busy. He- he fucking cancelled! On the one night that he should, fucking- He should be here early, having run as fast as his stupid metallic little legs could carry him to my favorite bakery to get me my favorite cupcakes, and for Val- I'll spare you the details of what I think he should do for Val after all this, but lemme tell you: it involves Vox being on his fucking knees."
Alastor's eyelid twitches so slightly it's barely visible.
"I consider myself spared."
Velvette snorts.
"Yeah… yeah." She huffs out a laugh, but it rings humorless, empty. "And… and he's not even here."
The TV is off. Maybe that's the weirdest thing, because when Vox is in the room, then sure as hell his screens are all lit up. Now, it feels like even with the lights on, she's still sitting in the darkness. It feels like it amplifies the silence that follows after her words.
"…so why are you here?"
Velvette blinks.
"What?"
"You've said yourself- He's making a fool out of you! After everything he's done, he sure should be running to your quarters and begging for your forgiveness, should he not? So, that means you should be in your room, waiting for him to self-reflect- If he's capable of such an act. And yet here you are. In his room. Alone on your special night. An act of self-pity like that isn't something I've expected from a strong woman like you."
She grits her teeth. She can see it in his eyes; that glint of provocation hidden under nonchalance; a spark hoping to light a flame. Vox falls for it all the time; Velvette might not have the Radio Demon all figured out — fuck knows what he's thinking about 90% of the time — but she's not so blind to fall for that.
"It's not an act of self-pity, arse."
An eyebrow raised.
"Hm?" He tilts his head. "What is it then, my dear?"
"It's- It's…" Her voice gets stuck in her throat. She doesn't exactly know what this is. The truth is, he's right, a bit; that she misses her friends and it's weird being here without them, but she can't bring herself lock herself in her room because this is at least a touch of what she's longing for. And she… deep down, she knows that Vox wouldn't come apologize to her, anyhow. Here- He might at least come here. Very late, maybe, but maybe he'll come. Maybe he'll actually say something. Maybe they'll just talk, casually. Maybe just… watch a movie, like nothing has changed for a few hours. Maybe she wants that to happen. But she's not admitting that to fucking Alastor. "It's not even about him, I just- I mean, I already ordered the fucking pizzas- And Vox's got the biggest goddamn screens. I ain't missing the new Dancing with the Stars episode because of Vox's cunt behavior."
Alastor's expression barely changes. He blinks.
"A what now?"
"Oh. Right. You're old as shit. Basically, it's this reality show- like, a dance competition involving celebrities and dancers. It's…" She pouts, considering for half a moment, before turning away and reaching for the remote. "Yknow what, never mind, I'll just show you. You've said you don't have anything better to do anyway, right?"
Alastor hums. "I suppose…"
The TV screen flickers to life, as she starts setting up the right channel, as per usual.
"Vox's been pirating some Earth channels, usually for his own entertainment, but it's nice to see what's going on in Earth reality TV, yknow. Especially when we control pretty much all Hell's media- How much can we really enjoy the content we have to approve, yknow?" She huffs out a laugh. "Vox keeps complaining about most reality shows being low class or some shit, but who the fuck is he to judge when one third of our company is a goddamn porn studio- But, well, either way, me and Val have managed to find ways to force him to watch at least an episode of something with us before he gets to show us his, you know, masterpieces of the Tenth Muse or some shit." TV set up, ads running on the screen, she reaches to open the pizza boxes. "Not that I mind his movies and all that, but you know, sometimes you need a bit of mindless entertainment."
Alastor nods. "Yes, that kind of fun is needed every once in a while." A beat. "Like hearing people scream."
Velvette snorts at that.
"Ha! Yeah, that too." She unpacks the drinks from the bag, sparing a glance at the commercials every now and then. "Help yourself to the food, I'm not gonna eat all this on my own. And as for the drinks- Vox is a boring motherfucker and gets the most basic soda that he could've, I doubt that's your style… you can take Val's drink if you wanna, though."
There's a moment of silence, as Alastor looks at Velvette; something flashing in his eyes, in a small quiver of his smile.
"Oh, my dear- I don't mean to offend, but taking Valentino's drink sounds like an offer one should always decline."
She chuckles at that- then shoots him a glance, and seeing the pure discomfort edging on disgust in his expression, visible even despite the huge smile, she can't help but burst into laughter.
"Oh- don't you worry doll, there's no drugs in it, if that's what you're worried about. Val only adds his own stuff, and I doubt anyone would be stupid enough to spike our order- People do fear us, babe." She grabs the cup, showing it to Alastor. "We've both been getting boba tea from the same place lately, I can vouch for their quality. And it's a good drink, too- Strawberry bubble tea. It's sweet as shit, but it's really good, I promise. And it matches your color palette, too! I promise you, you won't regret it."
Alastor gives her a look — a hesitant one, but seeing by the way that he narrows his eyes, she knows he's considering. She raises an expectant eyebrow.
"…even so. I can't exactly reach anything-" he gestures at himself with one of his legs for emphasis, "can I?"
Velvette rolls her eyes at him.
"Well, aren't you a whiny bitch- But I guess I can just… lend you a hand."
Alastor opens his mouth, possibly to ask whatever she meant, but before he does Velvette grabs one of her arms and pulls.
She doesn't use that particular feature of her demon body often, but she doesn't exactly avoid it, either. Does it hurt to pull her arm out the joint? A bit, yes, but it's not unbearable; a sting, like pulling out a splinter, and then it's just numb. A soft pop echoes through the room, Alastor's eyes widen ever so slightly, and then focus on the hand reached out in his direction.
"Ohohoh! That's interesting…" He says, tone melodic. "I appreciate good wordplay, my dear- And I must admit, I wasn't aware that you could do that."
Velvette chuckles.
"Yeah, cool, innit?" She grins. "Now, just take my hand and take the drink. And the pizza. And sit back, and enjoy."
The sponsored segment of the commercials is already playing, as Alastor — after a beat of hesitation — reaches out to grab her disembodied arm with his own bound hand, and then does actually grab the cup. Velvette settles herself more comfortably on the couch, leaning on the armrest, slice of pizza in hand. Only one arm means no scrolling through Voxtagram while she's eating, but she has a different kind of entertainment as she spares a glance at Alastor every now and then- not only to, well, make sure she's operating the arm well for him, but also curious to see his reaction, as he finally — hesitant, but still — takes a sip of the drink.
"And?" She asks, before he has a chance to utter a word.
"…I must admit, it's not the worst." Another sip. "…quite tasty, even."
"See? Told you- Ah, now shh, it's starting!" She turns up the volume, as the theme song starts playing.
"Mm, one more thing, my dear-" Alastor scoots up even closer to the couch, so now they're sitting almost arm in arm. "You must tell me who are we rooting for in this whole dance competition. And, of course, who are we hoping will do miserably."
Velvette's smile widens.
"Oh, gladly."
Alastor takes another sip of the boba tea as she talks, and even though the anger and pain in her chest doesn't exactly melt away, Velvette thinks that tonight might not end up too shitty after all.