#helluvaxhazbin

@helluvaxhazbin sent: "Virgil." Hands suddenly grasped at his shoulders. "I'd like your help with my little hotel project. So you better not be busy or I'm going to make myself your problem." (Alastor for Vox for the joining the Vees verse)

Vox had been in the middle of reviewing the complex coding of his newest simulation program, weeding out any potential bugs to make it ready to launch on the market, when Alastor strolled inside his office. The radio freak didn't even bother to knock, stepping in and making a beeline so he could go to stand next to the Media Overlord. A way to make his presence even more impossible to ignore.

The TV demon's lips curled in a frown, even if he stubbornly refused to look up at him, even after the other spoke up. Seeing Alastor walking around the Tower as if he owned the place was vexing...for more than one reason. Not only the red motherfucker kept undermining his authority, but having him acting like he had been there with them since the start and that felt like he was invalidating Vox's decades-long hurt and struggle.

He refused to let it show, or even to linger on the thought, but it wasn't fair.

"Oh, so you do remember my human name. What a surprise, I'm shocked," he commented in a sarcastic, following the words with a scoff. "Or perhaps it's a lucky guess? There aren't that many names starting with 'V', you were bound to stumble on the right one eventually, right?"

His claws drummed over the surface of the desk, as he pondered his options. He was very tempted to tell Alastor to fuck off, out of spite. He knew that his former rival wouldn't have hesitated to keep his word and bother him to exasperation if he had, but he didn't care. It would have helped his ego, standing up for himself against the Radio Demon.

On the other hand, however, he had also been looking for chance to bond with his old friend. Spend time together, prove himself to the other, grow close again. And what better way to convince Alastor that he was worth of his time and energy, and perhaps also of his affection, than to show how competent and helpful he could be, when it was the Radio Demon himself asking for his help?

"I am busy, actually. I run a company that branches off in many fields, in case you forgot," he pointed out, but he was already folding his hands together, wishing the holographic screens he had been working on with a thought. "But I suppose that I can make the time for my brand new business partner! Especially if he needs my assistance with his dearest ongoing project. I'd be a bad ally if I refused you, wouldn't I?"

He shot Alastor his best charming showman grin, but the edges of the smile were too sharp for it to be genuine.

@helluvaxhazbin sent: "I forgot how funny you are, Vincent. Somehow a genius and an idiot at the same time. So cute." (Alastor for Vox for the joining the Vees au)

...Alright, what the actual fuck?

Much to his own chagrin, all Vox could do at first in response to Alastor's words was staring. There were so many things to process in those three sentences that he wasn't even sure of where to start from.

The old-timey asshole knew his human name, he was perhaps the only person in Hell who did. So, the only reason why the bastard had used another random name that started with "V" had to be because he was trying to piss him off. Or, at the very least, to get a reaction out of him.

And, unfortunately, he had succeeded because Vox was very much irked by it.

Secondly...the insult badly hidden by a compliment? Or was it a compliment disguised as an insult? He couldn't tell and it was driving him crazy. The Radio Demon hadn't uttered a single non-offensive words towards him since before their "break up", and even back in the golden days of their relationship, praises were more unique than rare.

And Alastor calling him cute? What the hell was that about? Had it been someone else, he would have assumed that they were using the word in a derogatory way, but his rival most likely wasn't enough up-to-date with the modern slang for that.

The other was messing with him, with each and every word he had spoken. There was no other explanation...right?

"Not my name, Al, and you know it," he corrected, voice tight with annoyance, trying to hide the hint of confusion that still lingered underneath. "And it you don't know...well, fuck you."

Of course, that second option was one he refused to consider, because it would have been proof that Alastor had never cared for him, not even enough to remember his name.

"Anyway, glad to hear that I'm entertaining for you, but how about you leave me be? I have...important shit to do right now."

@helluvaxhazbin sent: "I'm pretty surprised that you aren't in charge of things. Out of the three of you you're obviously the most capable. The other two seem to be well idiots." (Alastor for Velvette)

Deep down, Velvette knew that spending time with the Radio Demon, behind Vox's back among the other things, wasn't the wisest idea. She had seen how the deer freak was constantly trying to get under the TV demon's skin, to rile up him and make him act even more erratically than he did already.

In that sense, Alastor's words about her being the most capable out of the three of them rang true. She was the less self-absorbed and more observant, and that allowed her to catch on much more quickly than her two companions. The fact that she very so often decided not to intervene and keep minding her own business was another story.

Their current situation was no exception to the rule. She had noticed, but she had decided to let Vox deal with his crap, to let him play whatever twisted game he and Alastor had going on since...forever. Their weird ass tension didn't concern her, even if she did agree with Valentine that they should just fuck already.

Or, at least, it hadn't been her concern until it had started to upset the balance in their trio. That was when she had realised that she needed to do something.

"Have you considered that maybe it's a choice on my part?" She argued, looking up to shoot him a glance before she focused back on the nail polish she was applying on her toes. "Could I be in charge? If I tried hard enough, yeah, but why bother? I have Vox do all the boring shit and I still get to do what I want."

For the most part, at least. He could be suffocating at times and there had been times when she had been forced to do things she loathed because he had told her to.

"Being the boss and having power aren't the same thing. You can pull the strings without needing to be in charge."

She shrugged, applying the last layer. She took a moment to stare at her handywork. Perfect. Maybe she could made red the star shade of next season.

"You know, for someone who doesn't care about our brand, you have a lot of opinions when it comes to it," she added then, in a casual tone, but her eyes were studying him attentively. "So...and mind you, it's just an idea..."

She grabbed a brush and moved to kneel on the mattress, behind the spot Alastor was currently taking up on her bed.

"Why not get in a position where you can officially make changes? I know that this whole prisoner act must have a reason behind it..." Whichever it was, she didn't have the faintest. "But if you asked, V would let you join. As an equal and nor as some...frustrating chew toy, or whatever you're supposed to be."

She had been pondering it for a while. Was it dangerous to voice it to Alastor? Most likely, but to hell with that. It wasn't like she could have taken the decision herself. Besides, it could have been an ideal solution. She had discovered that she liked the red bastard more than she could have ever guessed. He was a mean gossiping bitch and he was funny.

"He's crazy about you." With a hum, she started to brush his hair, carefully keeping away from his ears. She had noticed that he didn't like it when someone touched them. "You could get away with everything. Sweet talk him into supporting any sort of project of yours. Even that tacky Hotel you like so much."

A little smirk opened on her lips, eyes flashing with a hint of malice now that he couldn't see her face. He wasn't the only one capable of playing mind games.

@helluvaxhazbin sent: “I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour.” (Alastor for Velvette)

The question had Velvette squinting at the Radio Demon for a long moment. She had happened to be the one on "babysitting duty", since Vox was busy elsewhere, and, in all truth, she hadn't really expected Alastor to engage her during their forced time together.

Personally, she had planned to just work on her own shit, while pretending that he wasn't there. It was the easiest and less painful way to carry out the task her best friend had begged her to fulfil while he was out and she had been hellbent on sticking to that strategy.

Or, at least, so she had thought before the stag demon broke the silence. A favour? From her? Knowing how Alastor was the king of deceit, even among demons, the request was beyond suspicious.

"Depends on the favour," she eventually answered, not even trying to hide the wariness in her tone. She didn't trust a word of what came out of his mouth and she wanted him to be aware of it. "I don't do favours for free, unless you're a close friend, and you and I? We definitely are not, Bobhead."

Being Vox's doomed crush and eternal hate boner didn't mean that he got any sort of privilege. If something, it was the opposite, considering how foolishly the Media Demon acted whenever his rival was involved.

“Nah I’ll just call you twink angel. Suits you.” Adam @ peter -  ✧  ˖  ˙   「  @helluvaxhazbin   」   ˙  ˖  ✧   

「 ☆ 」 Adam really is... something.

Peter had been— for what feels like an unknowable amount of times —correcting the First Man after being addressed by him. Usually, Adam has better things to do than interact with the ❛ overblown and overpampered mascot ❜ ( a few choice opinions Peter has heard floating around the more influential angels ) . But on the occasions that he does decide to bless the other with his presence, the Saint's name never seems to come up. It's not exactly difficult to remember and Peter KNOWS that Adam knows what it is... But will he ever actually use it?

Apparently not.

Arms crossed with a small huff, bottom lip puckers as he raises a brow. Delicate fingers drumming against a limb, he studies the other's masked face, trying to decide how insulted he should be. It's not as though Adam is wrong... Even in a place like Heaven, overrun by various twinks, the label would be hard-pressed to find someone better suited. But he can't decide if it's interchangeable with a slur when coming from the First Man. He's not exactly the most sensitive when it comes to these topics. An abrasive attitude that intrigues as much as it annoys. A secret Peter hopes to keep close to his chest, certain Adam would only use it to further mess with him.

Rusty was currently panting. His teeth in a snarl. Dripping with a bit of blood. Below him his victim. The first guy he ever managed to beat the crap out of. No one even tried to stop Rusty since they were too blown away that he actually one. The guy had made a comment. About Rusty not having to worry about being seen as gay since it wasn’t like he was an actual guy. Rusty could tolerate homophobia but he drew the line at transphobia. Especially directed at his best friend and secret love of his life. (Rusty @ autumn fir the standing up for him thread) -  ✧  ˖  ˙   「  @helluvaxhazbin   」   ˙  ˖  ✧   

「 ☆ 」 With his short stature and even shorter temper, it's no wonder Rusty often finds himself in a fight. Challenging people he has no business even looking at the wrong way, let alone letting fists fly. Autumn has patched him up after plenty of ego-trips gone wrong ( no amount of chastising seeming to quell the canine's impulses ) and nothing about today had suggested it would be any different. Not until Rusty was standing over a body far larger than himself, bloodied as per usual...

But this time, it wasn't HIS.

Wide eyes fixated on the sight with glowing golden hues, face follows suit with a warmth spreading through. Pink accenting his cheeks, hot to the touch in a mockery of their ❛ secret ❜ relationship, Autumn normally far better at keeping his emotions close to the chest. With how fast gossip spreads around the hellish hive of a school— students buzzing about like bees in search of the newest tidbit —he can't afford to offer them even a HINT of weakness. Yet there he stands, heart hammering in his chest and ears still ringing with overheard transphobia he had intended to ignore.

Not much else to do about it, after all.

Rusty, apparently, held a much different opinion. Tongue flitting across his lips, he swallows thickly, knees threatening to give way at the animalistic snarl on Rusty's face. Pure, unfiltered protectiveness rage making the canine bristle and heave... Because someone insulted him. Autumn is moving before he can think better of it, hastily grabbing onto Rusty's arm and dragging him away from the gawking crowd. Praying his reddened features and rough actions are mistaken for anger. It would fit their perceived relationship, Autumn aways the one to drag Rusty away from whatever mess he managed to get into. Whenever he couldn't prevent it.

Hurrying around a corner, he glances around in an impatient panic before wrenching open the door of a familiar closet. Rushing in, door has barely closed behind them before Autumn yanks Rusty toward him. Muzzles crashing together in a fever, he kisses Rusty until he feels his chest start to hurt, head growing dizzy as he fights to forgo air in favor of his... boyfriend best friend and secret lover. Pulling back, he pants heavily against the other's mouth, half-lidded gaze aimed down to stare right in Rusty's eyes. He wants to tell Rusty how that was the hottest thing he's ever done. How much he appreciates the other defending him. How much he loves him for it.

“You’re the one that made me gay! You know how much easier my life would be if you were a girl?!” Rusty @ autumn -  ✧  ˖  ˙   「  @helluvaxhazbin   」   ˙  ˖  ✧ 

「 ☆ 」 This is hardly the first spat between him and Rusty... Frankly, their friendship was founded on disagreement. Bickering since tiny, unassuming children surrounded by ones so much stronger and eager to display it. Somehow managing to aggravate each other more than ANYONE ever could— oftentimes without even trying —and yet gravitating together as if interconnected by an unbreakable thread. Although at times it feels less like a red string of fate and more like handcuffs.

There have been days much like this one, where Autumn laments his inability to find a key. Or perhaps it's more of an unwillingness to use the one he's pocketed for years. Understanding that technically, he could walk away from Rusty... and be condemned to a life of regretting it. A peaceful, boring, agonizing existence without the canine barking his ear off and faulting him for things beyond both their control. As if Autumn doesn't wish just as fervently as HE does for things to be... simpler.

To be loved openly instead of in shame.

Eyes shut and fur bristled as his back faces Rusty, fists clench at his sides as he feels the last frayed bit of patience snap. With a sharp turn of his heel and a glare aimed at the canine, he spats out with a vitriol that makes his eyes burn in unshed tears. ❝ Your life?? Do you know how much easier MINE would be if I were a girl?! ❞ Muzzle scrunched and ears flat against his skull, Autumn steps closer to try and loom over the other, however unthreatening a visage he frankly is, ❝ If I didn't have to deal with all the bullshit of fixing the mistake that was my body! ❞

If he didn't have to spend years fighting with himself over if that was even the right course of action or simply a feeling of inferiority when compared to his younger sisters. If he was idealizing and would only be disappointed if it didn't bring about the sense of understanding he had been seeking. If his family would support him, would believe him as he embodied the very nature of the season he was manifested from. A season of change, of endings so that new beginnings could arise stronger for it.

How those around him would react; plenty of people making up for his family's support by throwing insults and accusations every step of the way... ❝ And that's not even getting started on you. ❞ Bending lower, muzzle pushes against Rusty's with a snarl, ❝ So fucking ashamed of being with me that I can't even break up with my boyfriend despite you banging by brains out on a daily basis! Because then I'd be the pathetic, single loser who was ❛ stupid ❜ enough to dump a great guy despite having no one else lined up. ❞ His reputation is already unfortunate as it is, even with the newfound boost of hanging on Aiden's arm.

He can't become an even bigger laughing stock... and can't make any hasty decisions if there's a chance of Rusty deciding he's not worth the trouble anymore.

「 ☆ 」 Part of Peter wants to try and push further, to prod at what thoughts are lying beneath that difficult to read surface... So certain there must be something the other could want to say. Some fears gnawing at him to be shared. Problems to be solved by a certain caring, considerate, and capable boyfriend. But another far louder part— insecurities of his own masquerading as common sense —demands that he refrain from being pushy. Insisting that Abel will share when he's ready.

If there's even anything TO say. Maybe he's simply projecting with these imagined worries and unspoken issues. For all he knows, Abel could be handling all the changes in stride. Old habits are difficult to shed, and Peter never has been good at fully accepting that people don't need him as much as they used to. That while he may be a Saint, that ironically doesn't hold as much purpose as it did when he was alive. This is Heaven, after all! Where problems are ignored seldom worth dwelling on. How could anyone, when countless distractions await around every corner? Enough to last a million lifetimes over and then some.

Never mind that Abel's first suggestion was to get high... as per usual.

Swallowing down the questions tickling at his throat, Peter's concerned expression softens into a loving smile. Wings give a few flaps so he can better reach the larger angel's face, delicate hands cupping his round cheeks. Pressing a kiss to his lips, there’s a faint excitement to be found in the action when in the midst of Adam’s former office. But her firmly pushes away the feeling, figuring it’s not the time nor place for such questionable thrills.