Work Text:
Admittedly, Velvette is starting to understand just what Vox sees in the Radio Demon.
Maybe not to the point of wanting to aggressively hatefuck the shit out of him, fuck no, but in rare defence of Vox, he does have great taste.
It’s not even the fact that the Radio Demon is mad powerful, other than his clearly scheming mind fuckery she hasn’t really seen much of that anyways, but he is charming and beautiful enough to even make up for that fuckass bob of his.
And, of course, the countless bruises covering his face and body. Velvette hardly wants to know what the fuck Vox did to the guy but judging by the tired, disheveled look on Alastors face, it couldn’t have been good.
A shame, really. At least Vox was gracious enough to dress him up properly again.
Velvette puts her phone down fully, propping one arm up and resting her head in her hand. Alastor has his eyes closed but she can tell by the faint cackling of static in the room that he must be awake.
“You are staring, dear.” Fuck, okay. Creepy old man.
“Fuck I am.” She scoffs, crossing her arms while still leveling her eyes at him.
“Hmm.” Alastor hums, opening his eyes to look at her through the same closed smile he kept the entire time. Again, creepy old man.
“Urgh, fine.” She complains, leaning back, arms spread along the backrest of the round chair. “You’re pretty for, you know, a man, so I don’t get what you’re wearing that fuckass bob for!”
She throws her hands up, then stands and walks towards Alastor, still tied to Vox’ stupid swivel chair.
He narrows his eyes briefly because he knows there is more she wants to ask, of course he does but Velvette doesn’t feel intimidated, instead she is intrigued. Vox and Alastor are quite similar in some regards, one being that they both sure love to hear themselves talk.
Alastor hums again, then shrugs his shoulders as much as his restraints allow him to. “It was curled when I was alive, besides-”
“EXUSE ME?” Velvette can hardly believe what she is hearing. “Your hair was curly and now you wear a straight fucking bob? I can’t fucking believe you. Why the fuck would you even-” She gestured vaguely at him while brushing her other hand through a few strands. Alastor shifts away inconspicuously as she does.
“You see, my dear,” he dwindled on, “Back in my days this hairstyle was actually fairly common amongst women wanting to break free from the stereotypes men put upon them. An act of great revolution! I simply found it, what was the word you would use these days again… ah! Woke.”
He signs quotation marks with his bound fingers as he says it. Kinda cringe, but whatever.
“How do you even know- nevermind. That’s actually… quite cool.” She admits, rolling her eyes at the proud grin on his face.
A symbol of female independence, Velvette didn’t expect that to be the reason for his questionable fashion choice. But perhaps the style only looks odd because Alastor is a man.
Velvette however is undoubtedly not a man but a woman, one constantly in the shadow of men, scrutinized by the people and underestimated by her colleagues. Maybe she could…
“My my!” Alastor laughs, but this time genuinely amused. “You Vees are really the same, I can practically hear the gears turn in that charming head of yours! Haha!”
How dare he, how dare he-
“I am nothing like that egoistic dickhead Vox.” She growls. Both her hands grab the back of Alastors chair firmly and she pushes him towards the large mirror in front of the makeup table where Vals’ whores usually get camera ready. “I’ll show you.”
Alastor cocks an eyebrow at her, equally amused and intrigued.
Velvette takes a good look in the mirror. She opens her braids and brushes through her hair until it is fully untangled. Then she takes a pair of scissors without sparing Alastor another glance.
It doesn’t take too long for the last strands to drop and Velvette takes a good look at herself. This is the first time she ever cut her hair this short. It’s… surprisingly nice.
She then finally looks back at Alastor who had been watching her throughout the entire process wordlessly. He flicks an ear, then tilts his head and hums. “This does suit you.” He says and Velvette can tell he is being genuine for once. “Maybe you are not quite the same as that TV-faced moron.”
“Well, duh, of course not. Besides, I look good in everything. Not even a fuckass bob like this could ruin my looks.” She gloats, both hands on her hips.
“Maybe a tiny bit like Vox.”
“Fuck you.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“You're weird, old man.” She mumbles, once again grabbing the chair Alastor is tied to, undoing the cables from the backrest and only locking them behind Alastoes back so his arms are still tied to sides but he is able to stand and walk. Then she reaches up to his shoulders, probably too stunned to speak, he doesn’t move away and simply lets Velvette guide him to sit on one of the comfortably cushioned makeup chairs.
“Your turn.” She says before he can even ask. Alastor cocks an eyebrow at her again, clearly amused but definitely more relaxed than when Vox was all over him barely an hour ago. “You look like shit, I am going to fix that, so now hold still.”
This time he doesn’t say anything. Velvette begins by taking a wet cloth and wiping the blood of his face. She stops briefly when he flinches, his ear gives an annoyed flick. “Just hold still. I can’t work if your face is covered in blood and god knows what else.”
To her surprise, he listens. Quietly letting her clean his face, apply various types of products and skinprep, before finishing off with a makeup look that appears almost as if he hadn’t been electrocuted and what not on a daily basis for the last week.
Lastly, she takes a brush and combs through his hair, undoing knots and mats until her fingers could glide through without getting caught. He only stops her when she tries to move onto his ears.
“Thank you, but I doubt that would be necessary." Both ears fold back this time, the same way they do when Vox is around, so Velvette sets the brushback down.
Even a guy like him seems to have things that are off-limits, huh?
Well, it doesn’t matter, really, her work here is done. The Radio Demon looks about as presentable as a weeklong tortured cannibal overlord with a straightened fuckass bob could.
She watches with pride as Alastor looks at himself in the mirror, turning his head slightly to both sides before nodding in approval. “Thank you my dear! Now tell me, why would someone as talented as you work with an idiot like Vox?”
“I know what you’re trying to do, old man, so give it a rest.” She huffs, taking a seat herself and once again propping her head on her elbow. “He is growing more and more power hungry. V usually isn’t… Well, I guess you know what he is like. But sometimes I really want to rip his stupid flatscreen head off. Urgh.”
“Oh, tell me about it!” He rolls his eyes.
Then, Alastors smile widens, his eyes glow dangerously red, even in the bright artificial light, they look at her with intent. They both know she is not as stupid as Val or as impulsive as Vox and despite that, she feels tempted to hear him out.
“So, how about you and I work on a little… plan together?”
Velvette can’t help but smile equally wide.