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Is this anything
SIGNING OFF -- A HAZBIN HOTEL AU -- Part 3
ACT IX: THE CHASE OF INSANITY
INT. VOXβS OFFICE - V TOWER - NIGHT
The office is a tomb of cold, blue light. VOX sits in his high-backed leather chair, screen a dead, flat gray. BILL GATES stands by the window.
VOX: (Voice like grinding glass) William Gates... can we talk? BILL: (Stiffly) Talk? We have a whole fucking world to manage, Vox. VOX: (Interrupting, screen flashing a violent neon red) What the fuck are you talking about, Bill? The "Freedom" sub-routines. The hidden encryption keys you gave to those Hazbin dipshits. VOX: (Exploding, slamming his desk so hard the wood pixelates) SHUT THE FUCK UP! You gave me everything, Bill! The architecture! The soul-harvesting algorithms! AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME, YOU BACKSTABBING PIECE OF SHIT!?
[High-pitched, rasping bark] LOOK AT THEM, BILL!! The "Free"! They aren't holding your toys anymore, are they? ARE THEY?
EXT. TIMES SQUARE - NEW YORK CITY
Voxβs physical form manifestsβa fifty-foot-tall, frame-skipping nightmare. CHARLIE and VAGGIE stand in the intersection. Neon-orange fluid leaks from the implants of the citizens as reality begins to unspool.
VOX: (A guttural roar) COMMERCIAL BREAK IS OVER, PRINCESS!
Vox SLAPS both Charlie and Vaggie with enough force to shatter the asphalt. They skid across the pavement, bleeding neon-gold and crimson. Vox leans down, his screen displaying a wide, horrifying smiling face with jagged yellow teeth and digital blood.
VOX: [To Bill Gates] I never forget a faceβespecially not those pathetic eyeballs of yours! You messed with the wrong fucking god when you let those little shits loose, Bill.
VOX: Oh, you can run! You can hide! You can crawl on your f-f-fuckinβ belly and beg me for mercy. But newsflash, dipshit: I donβt stop. I never give up. I havenβt lost a former narcissist yet, and you really think youβre gonna be the first bitch to slip through my claws? Please.
VOX: Iβm gonna kill you, William. And when I do? Iβm gonna twist your torso into something unrecognizable. THATβS RIGHT, WILLIAM H. GATES THE THIRD... IβLL KILL YOOOOOOOUUUU!!!!
He pulls VAGGIEβS Source Code out of the air. She turns into static bees that fly into Charlieβs mouth. VAGGIE KILLED.
INT. V TOWER - SUB-LEVELS (THE CHASE)
Bill is sprinting through corridors of screaming faces. Vox skips through frames, appearing on every monitor.
VOX: HEEEEERE'S VOOOOXIIIIEEEEE!!!!
Bill slides into a dead-end server room, the air thick with the smell of ozone. The reinforced steel door doesn't just break; it pixelates into a cloud of gray dust. Vox looms over him, his shadow stretching across the ceiling like a massive, jagged inkblot that moves independently of his body.
VOX: (A low, hateful rasp that vibrates the floorboards) You think youβre a hero? Youβre a bug in my system. John Henry died with a toy in his hand just to be a hero to a bunch of worthless, lazy [REDACTED - N-WORD]! I am the god of the multiversal airwavesβI am officially UNFILTERED AND UNRATED!
Vox grabs Bill. His screen strobes with the red grin of ALASTOR.
[SYSTEM ERROR: YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT, VINCENT.]
Vox follows through on his threat, twisting Billβs torso into an unrecognizable heap of broken geometry and red data. BILL GATES KILLED.
Vox stands over the shimmering data-leak and descends into terminal madness. He begins to LAUGHβa rhythmic, stuttering digital soundβwhile digital tears stream down his cracked, bleeding screen.
EXT. TIMES SQUARE - CONTINUOUS
CHARLIE: (On her knees) YOU BASTARD! YOU HEARTLESS, DIGITAL BASTARD! VOX: (Voice booming) SHUT UP, SLUT! CHARLIE: (Horrified) Youβre a fucking madman! VOX: (Screen turning into a seductive pink spiral) Would a madman do this, sweetie?
VOX (SEXY LADY VOICE): Oh, darling... why are you so tense? Just let go. Look at the colors. Isn't the static pretty? Be a good girl and stop fighting the signal. Reality is such a bore, isn't it? Just... sink... in...
The eyes of every survivor turn into blank VoxTek logos.
ANNOUNCEMENT SYSTEM: Attention remaining units. The "Freedom" protocol is complete. Final termination begins now.
RANDOM GUY IN THE HOOD: Damn, dis bitch crazay!
ACT X: THE FINAL TERMINATION
INT. THE IRADIGENS ROOM - PEAK OF V TOWER
Vox stands over CHARLIE, his body a pulsating mess of wires.
VOX: (Calm, hollow) The static... itβs so much quieter than the screaming. Be a doll... and TERMINATE THE FEED.
CHARLIE (SEXY LADY VOICE): The static is perfect, baby. Let's give them what they want. Let's end the show together.
VOX: Let's fucking go!
Vox slams his hands into the IRADEIGENS X-20 core.
VOX: Not strong enouuugh... I need more power! I need to feel the whole universe BUUUURN! CHARLIE: (Demonic shriek of laughter) OH, SORRY! LET ME HELP YOU!
She cranks the dial to BEYOND HUMAN ENDURANCE. The tower melts. Voxβs face peels away, revealing a void of pure electricity.
VOX: (Shrieking through the whiteout) YES! FUCK YES! THEY'RE GONE! NO MORE "BOOKIES"! NO MORE OF THAT DEER'S CARCASS! I... AMMM... ALIIIIIIII-I-I-I-I-I-IVE!
The background explodes into a raging, hellish fire, the sky turning bloody orange.
[SFX: A LOUD, PIERCING ANALOG VHS HORROR SCREECHβholds for five seconds.]
EPILOGUE: THE REBOOT
The screen goes pitch black.
[VOXTEK INTERFACE MANAGER] ROOT_USER: [DELETED] REALITY_STATUS: [NULL_POINTER_EXCEPTION] SYSTEM_MESSAGE: [THE CAUSE IS DEAD. YOU TRUSTED ME. NOW, THERE IS ONLY THE STATIC.]
[THANK YOU FOR WATCHING. THE BLACKOUT IS PERMANENT.]
THE END.
SIGNING OFF -- A HAZBIN HOTEL AU -- Part 2
ACT IV: THE EMPIRE OF STATIC
EXT. TIMES SQUARE - NEW YORK CITY - PRESENT DAY
The world of the living didn't fall to fire; it fell to the Refresh Rate. A hyper-realistic, three-hundred-foot tall projection of Voxβs face pushes out of the Nasdaq billboard, his digital skin stretching like organic rubber. Every screen in New Yorkβfrom the giant displays in Times Square to the shattered glass of a discarded iPhoneβpulses with his heartbeat.
VOX: Welcome to the premiere, Gotham! Or New York, whatever you call this shithole today. Look at you. So small. So unplugged. But don't worry... every optic nerve in this city is now officially VOXTEK PROPERTY!
The citizens don't scream. They can't. They simply stand still, their eyes turning a glowing, neon blue as the "Terms and Conditions" are uploaded directly into their cerebral cortex.
ACT V: THE SLAVE COURT
INT. THE V-THRONE ROOM - FORMERLY THE HIGH CHANCELLERY OF HEAVEN
Vox sits on a throne of jagged obsidian and glowing copper. Kneeling before him in tattered, gold-trimmed rags is the Slave Courtβthe "Greatest Hits" of human history and the remains of Hellβs royalty.
TRUMP (Slave): This isβ (SFX: SLAP) VOX: Did I give you a speaking slot, Donald? No.
PUTIN and MUSK sit in gilded cages, their hands trembling as they polish Voxβs metallic pylon-legs. HITLER sits in the corner, eyes narrowing with a bitter, ancient resentment. Beside them, CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR stands in a heavy, electrified collar, her eyes vacant, her spirit crushed under the weight of her fatherβs death.
VOX: (Leaning back, stroking a cable) Itβs good to be the King. Or the God. Or the Service Provider. Itβs all the same thing now, isn't it?
INT. VOXβS PRIVATE QUARTERS - LATER
The room is a sensory nightmare of flashing lights and low-frequency hums. Vox, in a state of manic high, has CHARLIE pinned against a wall of monitors. He is no longer just a demon; he is the personification of the Signal. He moves with a predatory, glitchy grace, his cables wrapping around her like snakes.
VOX: (Breathing static into her ear) Look at us, Princess. The New World Order. A merger made in... well, not Heaven. Not anymore.
He sneers, his digital lips pulling back to reveal rows of glowing teeth as he forces a twisted, hollow intimacy upon the last Morningstar.
VOX: I want to hear it. Tell me who our new world belongs to. Call my little empire... call it "Veesus." Charlie looks at him, her face a mask of exhausted, bitter defeat. The fire of the princess is a dying ember, but her sarcasm remains a jagged blade.
CHARLIE: (Voice raspy, dripping with sarcasm) Of course... shithead.
Vox freezes, his screen flickering red for a split second, before he bursts into a distorted roar of laughter. VOX: I love the spunk! It makes the ratings peak!
ACT VI: THE TROJAN HORSE
INT. THE UNDERGROUND SERVER HUB - UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
In the dark, surrounded by old-school analog tech that Vox considers "beneath" his notice, BILL GATES sits at a clunky, 1990s terminal. His glasses reflect lines of green code. While Vox is distracted by his own ego and his "merger" with Charlie, Billβs fingers fly across the mechanical keyboard.
BILL GATES: (Whispering) You missed a legacy patch, Vox. Youβre so busy watching the feed, you forgot to check the back door.
Bill bypasses the Voxtek Mind-Control Database, his screen reading: [SYSTEM OVERRIDE: 4%... 5%...].
INT. V-THRONE ROOM
Vox is pacing, his eyes darting between screens. He doesn't suspect a thing. He is so convinced of his own omnipotence that the idea of a "nerd" with a legacy OS hurting him is a literal impossibility in his programming.
ACT VII: THE PURGE OF THE PUPPETS
The Slave Court is grumbling. The collective ego of the worldβs most powerful men is finally hitting a breaking point.
HITLER (Slave): (Eyes narrowing, looking at Trump and Musk) Oh... So it's like that, ya? We are just toys for the TV man? TRUMP (Slave): Itβs a disaster. A total disaster. MUSK (Slave): I could have coded a better God in a weekend.
They look up at Vox, who is distracted by a glitch on one of his monitors. Together, in a rare moment of unified defiance, they shout:
THE SLAVES: ...YOU A FUCKER!
The silence that follows is absolute. The static in the room stops. The fans in the walls cease their whirring. Vox slowly turns his head a full 180 degrees, his neck snapping with the sound of breaking glass.
VOX: Ohoh! What...? What did you just call me?
THE SLAVES: That's right, we said it! A FUCKER! AND THAT'S ALL YOU'LL EVER BE! A BOX WITH A DIAL!
Voxβs screen turns pitch black. Then, a single red "X" appears. He begins to vibrate as he transforms into his Demon Formβa jagged, multi-armed horror of exposed circuitry and liquid shadow.
VOX: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
He lunges with the speed of a fiber-optic pulse. He tears the organs out of TRUMP, MUSK, and PUTIN in a single, blurred motion of his claws. He grabs HITLER by the throat, plunging his talons into his chest and ripping out his blackened heart.
Vox bites into the heart, his screen splattered with black, pixelated blood that hisses as it hits the floor.
VOX: (Gulping down the essence, his voice a choir of a thousand screams) STILL THINK IβM A FUCKER?! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO EXISTS!!
He stands amidst the pile of historical corpses, his chest heaving, his screen glowing a violent, blinding violet. He turns toward the camera, unaware that deep in the system, Bill Gates has just reached 59%.
END OF PART 2
Snorks fans...
You just entered a good timeline:
www.snorks.com
This also applies to you, @lunakittyfox.

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There's something about Gary's general enthusiasm that reminds me of Barnaby's: same kind of whimsical excitement.
It's just too bad that the owl's usual source of glee is... murdery in nature, otherwise they'd be a perfect friendship match. ^^'
SIGNING OFF -- A HAZBIN HOTEL AU -- Part 1
Read em' and weep kiddos!
ACT I: THE FALL OF THE PRIDE RING
INT. V TOWER - COMMAND DECK - CLIMAX
The air in the V Tower is thick with the smell of ozone, burnt silicon, and the copper tang of blood. The massive command deck, once a sleek testament to media dominance, is now a war zone of shattered glass and sparking wires. VOX is perched atop the Might of Lilith, his claws digging into the angelic metal of the cannonβs chassis. He spins the massive barrel around with unnatural strength, laughing manically as his screen flickers with erratic, jagged patterns. VALENTINO and VELVETTE are forced to duck behind a reinforced server rack to avoid the cannon's searing, white-hot backfire as it charges.
VALENTINO: Daaamn, papi! Youβre gonna take us all out with that thing! Watch the fur! VELVETTE: No! Stop being a bloody drama queen and aim the damn thing at the Hotel already!
VAGGIE grunts, her face set in a mask of pure determination as she slashes her angelic spear against the weapon's thick housing. Sparks fly into her eye, but she doesn't flinch. VAGGIE: Ah! Fucking break already! You overpriced piece of shit!
CARMILLA CARMINE slides under a venting cooling pipe, her movements as fluid and lethal as a shadow. She doesn't waste energy on screams. CARMILLA: Vaggie! Lift that central maintenance panel and cut the primary red wire! Iβll bypass the backflow and flood the core with coolant!
Together, they rip the mechanical guts out of the machine. The high-pitched hum of the cannon drops an octave, groaning like a dying beast before the light fades. Vox freezes, his screen flickering to a dull gray "No Signal" display. Below, in the streets of Pentagram City, the live broadcast fails, and the vox-pops turn sour.
SINNERS: He lied! Heβs a traitor! Look at him fail! Get him! Iβll be back for season three!
Vox reverts to his normal suit-and-tie form, his chest heaving. He looks nervous, watching his "Ratings HUD" plummet into a deep, flashing red. Suddenly, the towerβs emergency security wiresβdesigned to siphon power from the strongest sourceβlurch to life like metallic vipers. They lunge, stabbing into LUCIFER, who is pinned against a structural beam.
LUCIFER: Oh, fuck! Okay, nowβAh!
The King of Hell is hoisted into the air, his wings pinned. Golden ichor leaks from the punctures as the tower begins to siphon his ancient, angelic power directly into the weaponβs reserve. Vox sees the opportunity. The fear in his eyes vanishes, replaced by a predatory, desperate hunger. He lunges back at the cannon's control yoke.
VOX: You will NOT take this away from me! This is my show!
He slams his fists into the manual override. A wild, uncontrolled beam of pure, siphoned angelic energy blasts outward. It levels a nearby tenement, sending rubble flying for miles. A sinner falls from the top floor, screaming, but EMILY dives through the smoke, catching them in a halo of soft, white light.
SINNER: (Gasps) You... You saved me!
EXT. PENTAGRAM CITY - CONTINUOUS
Down in the wreckage of the streets, ALASTOR is in a full, desperate sprint. The mechanical monstrosity SHOK.WAV is right on his heels, its saw-blade teeth whirring. ALASTOR: Stupid cursed... Get this fucking thing away from me!β
In a moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness, or perhaps simply exhausted by the weight of his own deals, Alastorβs hand gets caught in the mechanical, pulsing jaws of the beast. High above on the command deck, Vox finally locks the targeting reticle on the Radio Demonβs signature. CHARLIE: Alastor, no!
Emily dives from the sky, her light trailing behind her like a comet. She pushes Alastor clear just as the beam fires, but she cannot clear the area in time. The edge of the blast catches her, vaporizing one of her wings into white ash and scorched feathers. SERA watches from the portal in the clouds, her face a mask of pure, divine horror that quickly curdles into fury.
SERA: Emily! ABEL, prepare your army. We end this filth. We end it all now!
SIR PENTIOUS rushes to Seraβs side, his many eyes wide with panic. He grabs her hand with surprising strength, his scales shimmering under the heavenly light. SIR PENTIOUS: Sera, you mustnβt! Please! I can do this! I can stop him without more blood! SERA: (Looking down at the carnage) Are you sure, Sinner? SIR PENTIOUS: Positive. Trust me. Just this once... trust me.
Abel and LUTE ignore him, leading the charge through the portal like a silver wave. Emily and Alastor collapse into the rubble below; Alastor limps, clutching a chest wound that leaks dark, glitchy shadow-fluid. Charlie rushes forward, shielding them both with her wings as the Exorcists descend.
INT. V TOWER - COMMAND DECK
VOX: (Voice distorted, booming through every speaker in the tower) Oh-ho-ho, three for the price of one! A king, a princess, and a deer! You've just been fucking CANCELLED!
CARMILLA: Vox, stop! If it overloads now with that Kingβs blood in the circuit, it will blow! It'll take you, us, and half of the Pentagram with it! Youβre committing suicide!
VOX: (Cackling, his screen cracking as the internal pressure mounts) You know what? FUCK HELL, FUCK HEAVEN, AND FUCK ALL OF YOU! As long as I wipe that smile off of Alastor's FUCKING FACE... I don't care if I burn the whole world down!
Velvette kicks him off the console in disgust, realizing he's gone completely off the rails. Valentino grabs him, his six arms pinning Vox against the wall with a force that cracks the concrete. VALENTINO: You are NOT FUCKING KILLING US OVER THAT STUPID DEER! I have a business to run, you lunatic!
VOX: FUCK THAT! THIS IS MY MOMENT! MY FUCKING DESTINY! IβM A FUCKING GOD!!
Valentinoβs eyes glow a deep, hateful pink. The lust is gone, replaced by the survival instinct of a cornered predator. He grabs the sides of Voxβs head, plants a designer boot in the center of Voxβs chest, and with a sickening sound of snapping metal and tearing fiber-optics, rips Voxβs head off of his body.
VALENTINO: CΓ‘... lla...te! (Shut...up!) [Panting] What the fuuuck did I just do? Val, honey, what did you do?
Voxβs severed head, still sparking in Valentino's grip, begins to laugh. It is a wet, digital sound that vibrates through the floorboards. VOX: Hahahahβ¦ Val, you dumb bastardβ¦ It's over. The signal is already in the air. You can't kill a broadcast!
The headless body, acting on a pre-programmed macro or perhaps a lingering ghost of Vox's will, lunges forward and slams its fist into the final firing trigger.
ACT II: THE RADIANT EXTINCTION
The beam that erupts from the Might of Lilith is no longer just lightβit is a concentrated stream of reality-altering data.
THE RADIANT EXTINCTION: The weapon fires. Emily and the allied angels caught in the beam don't just die; the holy light within them is corrupted by the Voxtek virus. They turn inside-out in a burst of white radiation and blue static. ANGELS KILLED.
ALASTOR: In slow-motion, Alastor looks toward the tower, his perpetual grin finally faltering. The beam hits. His face is blown clean off, leaving a pixelated, glowing skull that shatters into a million data fragments. ALASTOR KILLED.
LUCIFER: Still hooked to the siphoning wires, the King of Hell becomes a conduit. He vomits black pixel fluid until his body implodes into a bright light, dissolving the very throne of Hell and sending a shockwave through the rings. LUCIFER KILLED.
Voxβs headless body tries to fire a third time, but the weapon clicks. The barrels are glowing orange, melting from the heat. A tiny blue hologram flickers above the gun: [CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE: REALITY UNSTABLE].
Voxβs head floats out of Valentinoβs hands, drifting back to his neck and reattaching with a violent shower of blue sparks. He stands up, his suit charred, his screen shattered. VOX: (Voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly calm register) Goddammit... I guess itβs true what these idiots say. If you want something to be done, you have to do it... YOURSELF.
Vox plunges his hands into the "Critical Failure" hologram. He doesn't fix it; he consumes it. The blue light is sucked into his screen. His body begins to stretch and snap, his limbs lengthening into jagged, metallic pylons. His torso splits open to reveal a core of burning neon.
VOXβS TRUE FORM erupts. He is no longer a TV man; he is a towering mass of black glass, frayed copper, and pulsing neon veins, standing fifty feet tall. He throws his head back and lets out a sound that defies physicsβa hybrid of a Godzilla roar and the high-pitched, distorted screech of a circuit-bent Furby.
ANGEL DUST tries to scramble away through the ruins of the deck, but a pulse of static hits the floor, turning the ground into a liquid-data pit. ANGEL DUST: Val! Help meβ! VOX (Voice echoing inside Angel's skull like a thousand radio stations): W'ELL BE RIGHT BACK AFTER THESE MESSAGES.
A burst of raw electricity hits Angel, popping his head like a flashbulb. The light is so bright it leaves an afterimage on the walls. ANGEL DUST KILLED.
ALASTOR (or what remains of his shadow) attempts one final warp, but the "True Form" Vox reaches into the shadows and pulls him out by the throat. Alastorβs cane snaps like a twig. Voxβs claws dig into the shadow-demon's chest, and with a sickening digital bzzzt, the remaining essence of the Radio Demon is deleted. ALASTOR KILLED.
NIFTY runs across the deck, needle raised, laughing hysterically. NIFTY: So much mess! So much mess to clean!β Vox doesn't even look down. One of his massive, pylon-like legs crashes down like a hydraulic press. [SFX: SQUISH]. Nifty is flattened instantly into a dark smear on the floor, her single eye popping against the cold metal. NIFTY KILLED.
VOX: Censoredβ¦
The Might of Lilith weapon finally overloads. The core reaches critical mass and explodes, a blue mushroom cloud rising over the V Tower that can be seen from the Envy Ring to the Gates of Heaven.
ACT III: THE NEW MANAGEMENT
EXT. V TOWER - RUINS
In the center of the smoldering crater where the tower once stood, a single figure emerges. Vox reverts back to his original suit, though it is now perfectly pristine, as if the explosion had simply tailored it. He adjusts his tie, a look of profound satisfaction on his screen. VOX: Oh Baby! Thatβs what I call a season finale!
He looks up toward the hole in the sky. With Lucifer and the high-ranking angels gone, the barrier between worlds is a tattered curtain. Vox doesn't need a portal; he simply dissolves into a stream of data and uploads himself into the clouds.
FIVE YEARS LATER
The Golden City of Heaven has been terraformed. The ivory towers are now draped in neon blue banners. The angels walk the golden streets in perfect, synchronized rows, but they are silent. Their necks are bent at 90-degree angles, their eyes fixed on VOXTEK smartphones that are surgically fused to their palms. Their halos have been replaced by glowing blue ring-lights that pulse in time with Vox's heartbeat.
INT. THE VOID CELL - HEAVEN'S BASEMENT
SIR PENTIOUS and the EGG BOIS are trapped in a room with no doors and no windows. There is only one flickering light and a single Voxtek camera lens staring at them from the ceiling. Pentious is huddled in the corner, drawing tally marks on the floor with a piece of charcoal. EGG BOY #23: Is it time for the weather report yet, boss? SIR PENTIOUS: (Whispering) There is no weather. There is only the signal.
INT. VOX'S THRONE ROOM
Vox sits on a throne made of melted angelic halos and fiber-optic cables. He is surrounded by billions of screens showing every corner of the multiversal airwaves. He has won. He is the FRUHOR OF ALL UNIVERSES. He watches Pentious in the cell. He watches the silence of the angels. He watches the empty, red wasteland of Hell.
The silence is deafening. A single, frantic twitch begins in his left eye. He looks at his own hands, which are starting to flicker with static again. He has no rivals. No one to compete with. No smile to wipe off Alastor's face. The reality he built is a hollow loop. He begins to giggle, a sound that turns into a manic, sobbing wheeze. He looks at the camera, realizing he is both the viewer and the star, and there is no one left to change the channel.
VOX: (With a final, shattering realization as his screen begins to crack) Of fucking course!
TO BE CONTINUED.
Story Revised 01/28/2026
RE: zhis
Fantoccio fanart
This has aura man

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New AU I'm working on. It's a swap au, Peppino dies(?) and Fake Peppino ends up going crazy, he takes over Peppino's restaurant and lives there for a while.
That's just @pizzabox-box's AU man!
Vox nation! How are we feeling?
I couldn't stop myself from drawing him.. I have quartered him.π€£
Cubus cat Alastor
Various fictional "Billie Bust Up!" ports:
Amiga:
GameBoy (v1):
GameBoy (v2):
Mac:
Virtual Boy (Caution: might cause headaches and kill you. If yes, join Baron Von Boris' Barnaby's party):
This is just some silly rambles about some stuff found in the Storybots Style Guide.
Also warning it might be mostly a lot about Bang bc he's so silly I love him sorry about my autism /j /silly π€
Brother look at Bang's posture bro, this is supposed to be a proper height line up but bro's just too slouched back to stand up straight. Like i feel like he could be as tall as Bo if he actually straighten his back and unbent his legs.
Okay so in the style guide they have a section showing example poses and expressions for each member of Team 341B, four in 3D and four in 2D. Except for some reason, Bang has a extra 2D image.
Like look at this dawg, he has a whole extra page just for this fifth pose. Its only him for some reason, why? idk Maybe he's just special like that idk /silly
Also quick shoutout to Boop, he's pretty underrated. Gotta show him some respect bc he's cool and I like him a lot. He definitely needs more appreciation π
OMG LOOK AT THEM!! The most creatures ever <3 πππβ€οΈπ
Look at these two omg they're such a unit. They're so totally not a thing guys trust /silly
But also LMAO Bang always using Boop as a armrest π It won't ever not be funny whenever he does that.
This is so cute! Also lol Boop is not liking Bing hand standing on him. Also damn Bang's neck is so crooked here
These are soooo stinkin' cute omggg, the art style is so warm and cozy. I need these on t-shirts please that would be so rad
Silly sketches
These mugs look so cursed omg. The lines look like their mouths its so strange lmao
WE NEED THIS BING PLUSH/FELT CRAFT ^^
Cool backpack with the little Bing keychain π₯Ί
All of this looks so cute omg I need these, especially that Boop beanie and that Bang drip π
LMAO this looks so silly to me, just imagine turning in bed at night and you're just met with Bang's stupid face lol I can't. But I really want that Boop pillow π₯
And that's it I believe for this post, just wanted to share some of these images and whatnot and comment on them. Anyways, hope y'all have a good day! Peace! βοΈ
Wheredjagetthat????

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Fantoccio would be Hermes.
Tell me Iβm wrong.
For a moment I thought you mentioned the Bureaucrat Hermes
When first watching this I thought about him
*inhales* *exhales*
FANTO CHASHOUT!
FANTO CHASHOUT!
FANTO CHASHOUT!
FANTO CHASHOUT!
FANTO CHASHOUT!
FANTO CHASHOUT!
FANTO CHASHOUT!
PLEAAAAASE LORD!!!