Private, Selective, & Headcanon-Based Alastor the Radio Demon. Not affiliated with Vi/vzie or H/ella/verse. (promo credit: @he11bambi)
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On the air with: @voxfisch, @v0xp0pvli, @hellahit, @anviled, @falsedvnity

blake kathryn

Janaina Medeiros

Origami Around
Peter Solarz
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
One Nice Bug Per Day
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
todays bird
almost home

titsay

izzy's playlists!
Mike Driver

Andulka

tannertan36
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@demonicbroadcast
Private, Selective, & Headcanon-Based Alastor the Radio Demon. Not affiliated with Vi/vzie or H/ella/verse. (promo credit: @he11bambi)
Rules / About
On the air with: @voxfisch, @v0xp0pvli, @hellahit, @anviled, @falsedvnity

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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QUEEN OF THE DAMNED (2002) • dir. Michael Rymer
( 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 ) ; one muse helps the other into a bath/shower after a traumatic event. or they bathe together.
Intimacy has always been a touchy subject for Elle, even without previous experiences of boundaries crushed and spat upon. When they still wore aprons and toddled after Mama Marie, there were unspoken expectations that they feared more than any darkness or disease. A husband, a handful of pregnancies, unwanted or not, and then a slow crumbling from a life of hard labour, blood stains on teeth from biting on one's tongue.
Even when they traded skirts for suspenders, that fear permanently settled in the pit of their stomach. Sudden touches from members of either sex caused their skin to crawl, and the thought of being so vulnerable with another person, no clothes, no barriers, seemed inconceivable. No one had ever proven themselves worthy of that trust.
Until they met him, that is.
Inch by painstaking inch, Striker had chipped away at their defences with his easy smiles, his kindness, his genuine admiration for their mind and talents. Their first time making love was a surprise to them, albeit a pleasant one, but these everyday acts of closeness somehow seem more vulnerable and intimate.
Imagine, they were no longer accustomed to showering alone.
Purring, they nuzzle their chin into the top of Striker's head. They rub soapy circles into the assassin's back, carefully working away tension. Striker leans up to plant a soft kiss upon their neck, and they chortle when his teeth teasingly graze their soft flesh.
"After we've dried off, dearest," they playfully scold.
When they lapse into companionable silence again, Elle basks in their shared warmth. No barriers. No staff to protect them. And yet, this is the safest they've ever felt.
May I see the staff?
An amused brow quirks upward as they appraise the stranger. Usually, admirers demand autographs, photos, or paltry displays of power, but their staff? Well, that's new.
Alastor gives it a languid twirl before showing it off. The long handle is made of polished brass, a faint design of red music notes closer to its handle, and its top is decorated with an archaic microphone, dark, foreboding, and crackling with stray static screams.
"Impressive, isn't she? I made her myself."
Mel ✨

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𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
repost of a meme by moonpiehelps: mentions of panic attacks , vomiting , trauma , self harm , and distressing situations . Feel free to adjust as needed ! ♡
( 𝐑𝐔𝐁 ) ; one muse rubs the other’s back to comfort them while in a moment of distress.
( 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓 ) ; one muse grabs a bucket for the other who’s about to throw up.
( 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄 ) ; our muses share a bed so the other doesn’t have to be alone.
( 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 ) ; one muse calls the other a term of endearment to comfort them.
( 𝐇𝐔𝐆 ) ; one muse holds the other close while they open up / cry.
( 𝐀𝐈𝐃 ) ; one muse runs to the others aid after they were violently hurt.
( 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 ) ; one muse calls sender late at night in tears and the other comes over to comfort them.
( 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 ) ; one muse reaches out to the other after they’ve withdrawn from everyone.
( 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 ) ; one muse discovers the other during a panic attack.
( 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 ) ; one muse takes care of the other while they’re sick.
( 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 ) ; one muse holds the other’s hand while they’re in pain or panicking.
( 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ) ; one muse offers to cuddle with the other to help them sleep.
( 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐄 ) ; one muse opens up to the other about a traumatic experience.
( 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 ) ; one muse guides the other through a breathing technique.
( 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ) ; one muse comes to the other with an injury they’ve been trying to hide that’s beginning to worry them.
( 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ) ; one muse gently kisses the other while they’re crying.
( 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄 ) ; one muse helps the other into a bath/shower after a traumatic event. or they bathe together.
( 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐁 ) ; our muses instinctively grab each other while they’re scared.
( 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ) ; one muse gives the other a shoulder rub.
( 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 ) ; one muse wipes blood off of the other.
( 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓 ) ; one muse shows up at the other’s doorstep in tears.
( 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ) ; one muse has been missing and finally shows up, dirty and traumatized. the other helps clean them up and tries to get them to talk.
( 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 ) ; one muse wakes up the other after having a horrific nightmare.
( 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐋 ) ; one muse makes the other a warm meal to make them feel better.
( 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 ) ; one muse has been slowly deteriorating mentally/physically, the other takes it upon themselves to make sure they’re taken care of.
( 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 ) ; one muse takes the other’s face ( cheeks , chin ) when trying to comfort them.
( 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ) ; one muse lets the other stay over when their house gets too stressful.
( 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ) ; one muse sits outside the door to comfort the other who won’t let them in.
( 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 ) ; one muse stays over to make sure the other doesn’t hurt themselves.
( 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 ) ; one muse strokes the others hair.
( 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐀 ) ; our muses sit together after a traumatic experience.
( 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ) ; one muse helps ground the other ( bonus if you specify how )
( 𝐈𝐂𝐄 ) ; one muse holds an ice pack to the other’s injury.
( 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐏 ) ; our muses cry and hold each other after a traumatic experience.
( 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ) ; one muse strides up to the other and suddenly embraces them tightly after experiencing something distressing.
( 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 ) ; one muse calms the terrified other.
( 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘 ) ; one muse takes the other to a calm area where they feel more comfortable opening up.
whatever helps you sleep at night. ( from @drtyh4nds )
"Bold o' you to assume I sleep," the radio demon wryly responds with raised brow. "N believe you me, it'd take a hibernation lastin' milennium for you 'n your little cronies to accomplish HALF of what I have. So don't get your hopes too high, little bird. Even the best run outta steam once they reach the top."
i've hit people for less.
The figure wrapped in shadow doesn't seem intimidated by the growled response. If anything, they're amused. They cant their head, sharp teeth winking out at the stranger. "Aw, well, I beg yo' pardon, sir. I was only tryin' t'be friendly," they respond in a penitent tone, an exact opposite of their vulpine expression. "Perhaps you'd share a drink with me 'n allow me to make amends?"
"Darlin' we gotta start plannin' our wedding cause everybody's takin' the good days. I love me some blood and gore but I ain't lookin' t'be pissed on our wedding day. Now the honeymoon maybe... but not the day of."
An abrupt pause of the typewriter's metallic clinging are the only indication of Elle's shock. They stare down at the keys, hands frozen in place. Their heart pounds a staccato anthem in their ears. A wedding.
They're going to plan an actual WEDDING.
Of course, they'd mentioned it once or twice before, mainly in the blood-stained, lipstick-smeared throes of passion. And Striker had given them a token of his commitment for Sinsmas. It was an inevitability. But it seems that reality is just hitting them now.
One of their hands reaches up to cup the jewel still suspended over their heart, and slowly, a smile blooms.
"Ain't nobody I know gonna have a weddin' on All Hallow's Eve." They turn in their chair, eyes sparkling with mischief and unshed joyful tears. "Let's plan for that. 'Sides, it's easier to go topside if everyone thinks we're in costume. I can't get hitched without my family involved."
Hisㅤ𝑮𝑹𝑰𝑵ㅤwasㅤalwaysㅤ
ʰ͟ᵃ͟ˡ͟ᶠ͟ʷ͟ᵃ͟ʸ͟ㅤaㅤsmile ʰ͟ᵃ͟ˡ͟ᶠ͟ʷ͟ᵃ͟ʸ͟ㅤaㅤTHREAT !
indie & selective protrayal of striker from v*vziepop's helluva boss. hired by star. 21+ & mutuals only!

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༘⋆。 stirring the pot starters
a mix of arguments, tension, manipulation, gossiping, fighting, & general emotional messiness!
you weren't supposed to hear that.
don't look at me like i'm the only one lying.
want to tell them, or should i?
you think i don't know what you did?
i've hit people for less.
oh, i thought you already knew.
that's funny, you didn't say that last night.
say that again. i dare you.
you wanna talk about loyalty?
no offense, but if you're the last to know, that's on you.
go ahead - pretend like it wasn't your idea!
they deserve to know the truth.
you didn't hear this from me, but -
oh, so now you care?
don't flatter yourself. you were just convenient.
you crossed a line.
we had bets on how long it would last.
it's not even a secret anymore.
you don't get to cry about it now.
touch me again and see what happens.
say it again. louder this time.
you really thought nobody would find out?
don't act so innocent.
okay, but am i the villain for laughing?
tell me who else knows. right now.
this whole time, and you didn't say a word?
don't act brave now.
you're really gonna do this here?
it wasn't supposed to get this far!
you can't rewrite history.
oh, i'd never say it to their faces.
it was supposed to stay between us.
we're all thinking it, i just said it.
you're not as untouchable as you act.
do you even feel guilty?
they warned me about you.
go ahead, make it worse.
if you repeat this, i'll deny everything.
the next thing out of your mouth better be an apology.
you're about three seconds away from regretting this.
you keep pushing, and i'll push you back.
they're going to find out.
one more lie, and i walk.
they're lying to you.
you need to back off. now.
you're defending them? after everything?
don't try to hide it.
tell me, was i just a placeholder?
you really think sorry fixes this?
there's nothing left to say.
don't act like you're the one hurting.
i don't owe you any explanation.
whatever helps you sleep at night.
you should've seen this coming.
i hope it was worth it.
i told the truth. just not all of it.
you'll miss me before i miss you.
smile. you're ruining the mood.
i'd watch that tone if i were you.
it's not my fault you believed me.
you have such a talent for pretending you're innocent.
we both know this is over.
i never said i was a good person.
i thought you were different.
came across this post on twitter that i had to draw
Elle has been left a gift, wrapped in black paper and tied with a pinkish-red bow. Inside is a small bottle of perfume; a tube of dark, slightly shimmery lipstick; and a Ma Rainey record. A note has been left with it, written in a spidery scrawl: Happy birthday to my deerest (Haha! You get it?) friend! I hope it is a wonderful one. I admit, I took quite a gander with your preferences, but the perfume is a lovely Cannibal one and the lipstick was recommended by a trusted friend. Now, I don't know how familiar you are with the lovely lady of Blues herself, but she's an old favorite of mine and seems right up your alley! I hope you enjoy, and have a fantastic year! Bonn fèt! (Happy Birthday!) Sincerely, @undead-air
It was their assistant who entered their study with the package. Elle raised a brow as it was left on their desk.
Their birthday is something they hardly mention to anyone; in fact, the only people in hell who know are Vox, and their companion, Al. And they only mentioned their birthday ONCE to the latter whilst comparing horoscopes.
But there the package was.
Elle bit down on the inside of their cheek to fight against the welling moisture in their eyes. A gender-neutral perfume called “Bleeding Heart.” A shimmering burgundy lipstick. And—
“Oh,” they murmured, cradling the record to their chest.
Of course they had Ma Rainey records already. They owned two copies of this specific one, in fact, but this was one gifted to them by… a friend. Why else would Al go out of his way to remember a silly date and send a gift?
“Hmmph. You really do care, you ol’ devil.”
@undead-air
Vox had hoped that his words would be answered with another joke or accidental innuendo. He would have taken some teasing at his expenses even. Anything would have worked, just for the sake of dissolving the tension that still clogged the air between them and to get them off a subject that was getting more and more dangerous with every passing minute.
Unfortunately for him, Alastor seemed not to get the memo the room was screaming. Or, perhaps, they had other previous plans and, as per usual, they chose to stick to them. Normally, the disgraced Overlord would have expected his rival to be more attentive and mindful of the consequences of their choices, but...they had both been acting impulsive since the battle, hadn't they? Slipping in ways they couldn't afford.
The TV demon's whole form visibly stiffened as the words hanged between them. Painful and heavy with implications, carrying the whisper of broken hopes that could never be rebuilt, of wounds that could never fully heal.
Anger boiled underneath the cutting sorrow and his is first instinct was to snap, to state that yeah, those had been great times, but they had been over for decades now and whose fault was that?
However, that would have started another fight or, even worse, another heart-wrenching discussion and he refused to go through it again. Not when the too intense night they had shared just a few days before was still so fresh in his mind and soul.
"Some things...I guess you can never fully move on from them," was what he chose to say instead, glancing away. He tried to keep a neutral tone, but he couldn't keep the sense of bitter loss out of his voice. "Even if they are dead and gone and never coming back."
His throat tightened and he hurried to down half of the contents of his glass, attempting to wash away the rotten taste from the back of his throat. Distracted as he was with his own inner struggle, he didn't notice Alastor moving closer, not until the toast was offered, drawing his digital eyes back on the other.
The lack of distance was registered, but his focus was immediately stolen away by the newly exposed patch of skin and Vox found himself tracing the curve of Alastor's bare shoulder before he could realise what he was doing. Satan, how many times he had imagined what it would be like to press his screen against the elegant line of that neck and taste the smooth skin...
...Fuck. Nope. Absolutely not going there.
With a hiss, the Media Overlord pushed himself on his feet, depositing his glass on the coffee table as he started to shrug off his jacket.
"Alright, fuck it. I'm way too overdressed for this," he muttered, mostly to himself, but also to let his rival know what he was doing before the other could get alarmed. And if stripping also helped with the warmth that had started to pool under his skin, well, that was for him and him alone to know.
His bowtie came off next and he popped the top buttons of his collar open, tugging at it a little before rolling his sleeves up at his elbows. Only then, he retrieved his drink and sat down again.
Much better.
Clearing his throat, he forced himself to look back at the Radio Demon, holding his gaze on the latter's face and not any lower.
"...Uh, yeah. A toast. Sounds...good to me. It's not like we can do much other than move forward, can we?"
That was uncomfortably true for him, at least. He had burnt the ground all around himself, so all he was left to do was either wallowing in self-pity for the rest of eternity or somehow get back on his feet and rebuild.
They realized they’d made another unintended mistake the moment Vox grit his teeth and turned away. Right. This was still their fault. They straightened, plastering a smile to hide the way the rest of them winced with phantom pain.
Dead and gone. And never coming back.
Alastor supposed that, despite their change of heart, that was only deserved. It didn’t matter that they made a mistake. It didn’t matter what their feelings were. Vox was still poised to bite like a wounded animal, and they were too tired and sore to offer their neck.
So, they buried the longing ache, the regret and the sorrow, deep down in their crypt and locked them up tight. They chose to embrace the warmth of the liquor instead. The stuffed cotton in their head. The pleasant burn in the back of their throat.
They were so drawn into their own musings that they didn’t notice Vox’s state of undress until his thigh brushed their own. They reluctantly glanced upward and very obviously became distracted by his open shirt, which teased at the muscles beneath the rest of the fabric.
They couldn’t help it.
When was the last time they’d been this close or this open with each other?
Too long.
Chuckling, Alastor clinked their glass with Vox’s own before downing what? Their fourth or fifth? It’s not like he was keeping track.
“Lord, we keep goin’, ‘n you’re gonna have me sweatin’ like a sinner in church. I’m supposed to be miserable ‘n now I can’t think of nothin’ but this.”
Their natural drawl thickened like molasses the more they sank into the couch cushions. They weakly smiled up at their companion through a few errant curls.
“Here’s to movin’ forward then. For the both of us.”
I also realised that I was not online for Elle's birthday. It was the 9th :sad face: but if anyone wants to send them gifts still, you are more than welcome to do so!

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Dreamy mel
@hellahit
Vox's shoulders relaxed a little when Alastor took his suggestion without protests and took a seat on the couch. His chest felt lighter for a moment, his heart tickled by an emotion he chose not to name. Not that it mattered anyway. It was obviously the alcohol starting to affect him. Which meant that he should keep drinking.
Thankfully, the Radio Demon seemed to agree on that last part, as they had brought the bottle with them and were already getting him a refill.
Those pleased thoughts, however, were short-lived, as the former Media Overlord almost choked on his freshly poured glass at the other's teasing. What the...? Had Alastor seriously just said that to him?! Why would they...?
.....Wait a moment. Oh. Oh. Of course. They probably had missed the sexual implications of the joke he had almost made. They most likely meant spending the day in bed lazing around, not spending the day in bed fucking.
"I...It's been a while since I've done that," he mumbled, his voice still a little tight with embarrassment. "There's always work to do, people to handle, projects to pour over..." In one word, he was a workaholic, but that wasn't news to either of them. "And besides...I'd take going for a swim to relax over lying down almost any day."
Damn, he missed his sharks. He hadn't gotten to see any of them since leaving the Tower, not even Shok.wav, and he would have done anything to just get an hour where he could sit in their main tank room, watching in silence. It always helped put his mind at ease.
"Yeah, you're right on that. Valentine's Day is dumb, I've always thought that. The only thing it's good for is business," he agreed with a shrug, sipping his drink, more slowly this time. Just in case Alastor decided to say something outlandish again. "I've celebrated it before, but...it was to please someone else. I never personally cared, but it can have its practical uses."
Perhaps his rival was right, perhaps it was performative, but that was actually an advantage to some extent. It had often been the perfect excuse to dote on Valentino whenever he needed to bribe the other into forgiving him for something he had...or hadn't...done.
The TV demon eyed his companion for a moment, wondering whether or not he could dare asking about the admission they had just made. They never had anyone to spend the day with? Did that mean...?
"No one, hm?" He echoed in a carefully casual tone, soft enough that Alastor could have simply ignored it, had they chosen to. A shrug followed. "Hey, nothing wrong with indulging in a little self love, anyway. Right?"
Digital eyes unconsciously followed the movements of those fingers as they threaded through dark hair. It made his own itch to touch and he was far too keenly aware of the urge.
Then the lull was broken at the mention of the potential messes they might have encountered on their way to the kitchen and Vox was suddenly very, very glad of his choice to pace his drinking.
A hint of cyan touched the middle of his screen and he hid it in his glass. Maybe he liked watching...spontaneous live sexual performances occasionally, but that was his business and his alone. And he sure as hell wasn't going to tell that to Alastor of all people.
"...I am not answering that," he scoffed, making a show of rolling his eyes. "But you have a point. Room service is probably the best idea, if we want to eat at some point."
No one, hm?
They shrugged a shoulder, the perfect picture of nonchalance, despite the way their grip tightened on their glass. For a moment, Alastor was almost afraid that this tentative peace between them would break and that Vox would begin to mock them. They relaxed marginally when that wasn't the case, but only just.
If Vox thought that he would be quickly replaced, he thought wrong. Even now, the thought of sharing intense and genuine feeling for another seemed an alien concept, romantic or otherwise. He was one-of-a-kind; they were the foolish one for not realising that sooner.
"Nothing can quite live up to our glory days," they hummed against the rim of their glass. "There was just you 'n me for a while there. Guess I became too used to it." Alastor offered a wry, lop-sided smile. "And spending such a holiday with myself alone is such a bore."
There were a million different vulnerabilities to unpack there, but they pushed on before they could be questioned about any of them. Despite the comfort Vox's presence brought, they wouldn't bare their heart or dissolve into tears. Not again, anyway. If they drank enough, they'd black out and then wake up to realise that this uncomfortable holiday was over and done with.
Then they'd go their separate ways.
They should be happy, so why does the thought of another separation make their chest ache?
"Well, I got some leftover étouffée in the fridge. Since Charlie got us into this mess, the least she can do is send it up."
They took another long, bracing gulp, eyes fluttering closed as the liquid burned on its way down. Warmth bloomed in their chest. On a whim, they scooted closer to their companion; their robe slid to bare a bit of shoulder.
"And since this holiday is already miserable enough, let's not add to it." They extended their glass, eyes creasing about the corners as they smiled. "A toast, then! To a new start?"
By the nine circles, he still looked as handsome as he did the moment they first locked eyes.
They had the sudden urge to close the distance between them and kiss him, but surely, that was the alcohol talking.