Bottomest (VOXxALASTOR)

Chapter One: Televised revolution

It was no secret. Vox had inevitably lost his game. Not just his game, but his posse as well. In the midst of everything heated going on, Vox had found himself hopelessly back at the bottom of the barrel, scraping around for three customers to even pay him a lick of mind. That cannon thing really did a number on the pentagram. He had done a number.

In the middle of his moping and groaning and looming, Vox laid sprawled on his couch, bare in his boxers, munching vigorously on a box of white cheddar popcorn. He was swiping the air and changing channels on his obnoxiously large TV that mounted on his fish tank that held his equally as obnoxiously large pet shark. His eyelips started to feel heavy as his screen-head started to drift backwards. The man was laying sideways on his stupidly large couch with a large amount of pillows surrounding him. There was a crate of beelzejuice in front of his couch that he had only taken one bottle from.

Within a moments notice, there was a ringing of his door bell which caused him to glare through his fortress of pillows. Vox ignored the sound, until it became annoyingly loud in his head. He threw the pillows off of himself like a toddler throwing a tantrum and stomped all the way to the elevator and to his front door. The door swung open and there he stood, glaring at whomever decided to interrupt his peace. He stared down at a pair of black shoes, then a red waistcoat, then a cane and then HIM. Vox's face went pale (if it could) and he slammed the door. Woohoo, post-foreshadowing. He rested his back against the door for a long moment before he glanced down. He startled and zapped his typical outfit back on. Fixed and well-mended from the previous fight.

He turned back around with a newfound confidence and opened the door back up. He fixed the neckline of his suit and stared at the demon before him, cocking a brow with his eyes half-lidded. He perked his lip up for a moment before giving a half-assed smile.

"Alastor. To what do I owe this displeasure?" The media demon spoke without a tone, if not pure attitude. He shifted on his heels and turned to the side to allow the other red eyesore into his abode.

"I couldn't help myself, sweetheart. We may not be friends but I suppose deep down I do hold a bit of care for you. You got your head ripped off, for hells sake."

Alastor remained in the doorway for a long moment before finally entering the home. He walked  inwards towards where the couch sat, then noticing all of the pillows. He slowly turned back to his old comrade and tilted his head.

"They both left you, didn't they, Vincent?" Alastor held a hooked finger over his mouth as if to hide a small chuckle. He shook his head slowly.

"If all you came here to do was laugh at me, I've got all of hell doing that already. I don't need anymore laughter. Especially not from the likes of you." Vox spat venom. He aggressively turned away from alastor and walked back to his couch, curled up under the pillows again and hid himself. Alastor came up to the pile of sheer sadness and embarrasment and pulled a pillow away to reveal Vox's face.

"Oh dear. You seem to be further into the hole of shame than I anticipated. Come on then, Vincent. What happened to your can-do, over the top egotistical attitude? Get up!" Alastor snapped. Vox refused to move himself out of the fetal position and this is what sent Alastor over the edge. The Radio Demon grabbed Vox by his ankle and snatched him up off of the couch. Vox wriggled like a worm on a hook until he realized Alastor wasn't letting go. He snarled and crossed his arms. It was no secret that Vox was indeed shorter than Alastor, however, it wasn't something publicly talked about, such as Alastors tail. Or a lack thereof. Vox rolled his eyes and looked at Alastor once he had been set back down.

"You're literally my biggest hater, and you're concerned about me? You're kidding." Vox's voice dripped with sass. He looked away once more before Alastor grabbed the side of his screen and forced the other demon to look at him. This caused Vox's screen to flush slightly blue.

"You don't get to tell me what I am, Vincent. Now get up, we have some things to do."

"Oh really, like what?" Vox barked. Al grinned a rather large one and grabbed Vox by the hand up off of the couch.

"Anything. Whatever may cheer you up. As much as I despise being in your company, being your friend so long ago has left me feeling as though I am obligated to help you." Alastor spoke rather softly.

Vox's eyes glitched. He stopped dead in his tracks and yanked his hand away from Alastor's. "Friend..? You said there were no friends in hell, Alastor." Something changed in Vox. Was it anger? Happiness? Both? "Alastor, you said there were no FRIENDS."

Alastor stopped and paused for a moment before taking a second to turn and look at Vox. He had his eyes closed, a sigh escaped him.

"Do you recall when Charlie said you were the strongest in hell? That was because I found a loophole. I have been under a contract for decades, since before you arrived. I couldn't have friends."

Vox's eyes narrowed and widened. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away. "Yeah, well you could have told me that."

"No, vincent, I couldn't. Thats why I had to wait until Charlie said something about 'the strongest sinner in hell.' otherwise, you would have been hurt." Alastor put a hand on Vox's shoulder and sighed.

HOLA READERS!! It's seth here! A new chapter will be released every friday! Be on the lookout and don't forget to stay tuned, because I will be releasing regularly!