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voxisdaddy · 2 months

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Nifty Nifty Nifty

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Fun and Fluffy! Platonic only! HEADCANONS

What if Vox had his own Nifty? Someone who’s just a short ball of chaos, easily entertained, and very quick?

c/tw: mention of cum (its still platonic, i swear)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Alastor and Nifty’s relationship is weird. To Vox that is. He observes Alastor whenever he can, which Alastor tends to make it almost impossible to do so, but from what Vox has gathered-Alastor may or may not have a soft spot for this ‘Nifty’ lady.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cringe. Anyways,

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When you met Vox, let’s say it was in his early days in hell-before the Vee’s, fame, fortune, and, hell, even before the overlord status was placed upon him, so you were an early contract. One he didn't see a lot actually. For good reason!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox sighed as he slumped back, defeated, on his chair. His eyes followed the hyper active little sinner who scurried along all around his monitor equipment. He was slightly worried they'd knock something over but the one thing (Y/N) hated with a burning passion was a mess. So he was a bit at ease knowing that his equipment likely wouldn’t be damaged.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I dusted down the keyboard this morning. It's fine!" Vox insisted as he watched the little ball of speed come to a halt to tear apart his keyboard.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Not enough! Did you even use that feather duster I gave you for our soul-contract-iversary? It's so unclean! You didn't even take off the caps to really get in there like you're supposed to!" The little thing rambled on. They weren't particularly venting about it though. It was all done because they were just excited. Which was a breathe of fresh air for Vox so he didn't immediately kick them out.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Maybe offering the 10 pound, 3 foot tall sinner a cup of coffee wasn't his most calculated move. You'd think he'd learn by now.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ But he just couldn't resist the hopeful teary eyed expression you gave him this morning when you asked for a sip of his coffee. He wasn't gonna share so he brewed a cup for you and made it just how he'd think you'd like it-a crap ton of sugar.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette had inquired if that really was a good idea but Vox being the prideful, stubborn, 'I'm the boss' pissy baby he is, had shot her concerns down. Something about how he doesn't have to listen to someone else tell him how to control his souls.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Yeah Velvette was not happy with that and flipped him off. Telling him that whatever happens is his mess to clean up all on his own.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh yeah the other Vee's are familiar with you already. It was actually quite funny how you met them.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When you first met Velvette you were sitting on some top shelf and giggling madly to yourself as you looked at her outfit that day. It was a lovely little outfit with artistic decisions in where the red melty heart symbols were located. "You got slime on your clothes!" You giggled, "I'll clean them!" Velvette backed away slowly as you whipped out a large sponge and a bucket of soapy water. Vox had intervened just in time to catch you midair before you could 'ruin' Velvettes outfit.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino first met you in one of his night clubs-one specifically for sex favors. He was chatting with Vox in a separate room when they heard a shriek. Valentino had intended to ignore it until Vox ran out of the room, cursing under his breath. When the pimp entered the club room he watched with a confused look on his face as a little sinner scrambled around with a black light, tears in their eyes, and like a thousand cleaning materials in their arms. They wailed in Vox's arms about how filthy the entire room was. Valentino took an interest in you, maybe you could be quite useful in one of his films. Like a sexy little maid or something. Yeah before he could make an offer you had ripped off some of his fur, muttering about how unclean his coat was.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh Val, that would not be the only time a little ball of chaos ripped some of your fur off, would it?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Anyways, Vox didn't keep you around much for, as previously mentioned, good reason. In fact, part of your contract was that you never reach out to him. He will be the one to reach out to you. It leaves your text messages and mailing address heavily one sided. Vox still cringes at the memory when the head of the mailing company had accused him of stalking some poor innocent sinner.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox liked to think he didn't have any favourites of all his contracted souls. The closest would probably be Travis (the name I gave his assistant in episode 2) but that was mainly bc out of all of Vox's assistants, Travis actually got shit done to Vox's standards. So yeah. Absolutely no favourites. Non whatsoever. Nope nope nope-

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "And in other news, VoxTek is releasing some new cleaning products for your VoxTek appliances!" Vox promotes on his 'Vox-2-Nite' show one evening. Suddenly your little happy face comes very close in front of camera 1, holding an armful of the cleaning products you managed to convince Vox to make. Vox stretches behind you to try and get his face back on camera 1, and maybe hint for a crew member for get you off the damn set.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ No one could mangle you away from the cameras though, leaving Vox to shamefully climb over his desk and retrieve you himself. He sat back on the guest seat, hand clamping over your mouth, arm holding your body as still as he possibly can as he hurried to end the show.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "That's it for tonight on 'Vox-2-Nite'! Tune in tomorrow night for a very special guest, Velvette-hey get back here!" You slipped out of his arms, running up to the camera and firmly grasping it in your hands. "Buy our cleaning products! Valentino says the soap is the same colour as Mister Vox’s cum-!" "AAAAAAAAA!!" Vox tackles you to the floor.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette finds herself smiling smugly along side a chuckling Valentino at the...unexpected closing of the show. They wait for Vox to slam open the doors. But surprisingly Vox doesn't come charging in upset. Instead he looks unbothered as you cling to his leg wailing for your cleaning products back.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I'll clean all of the Vee's tower! Every little corner! That's how I'll make it up to you, I promise!" Vox pulled you off his leg from the back of your top. "It wouldn't be a punishment if you enjoyed it now, wouldn't it?" Then he dropped on you the couch next to Valentino who scurried away out of fear that you'll rip out his fur again. He may or may not have ptsd from the first time.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ If you were a normal sinner, any of his other souls or employees, you'd be ripped apart by now or have some other form of harsh punishment-he's not above using some of his employees as target practice with a gun of course. But you weren't like the rest to him. Yeah. Definitely no favourites.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Imagine being attached to some little sinner!" Vox laughed, spinning around in his chair with a cup of hot coffee on his iconic 'Fuck Alastor' customized mug. He looked at the monitor with an amused expression, with a smug, teasing smile. Alastor's fondness of this Nifty lady was just too comical. Cringe, even. "He's such a loser." He sipped his coffee.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Can I have a sip?" You perked up suddenly next to him and eyeing his coffee. Vox hands the mug to you thoughtlessly. "Yeah, go ahead." He says before laughing again.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino and Velvette, on separate monitors as the three were in a video call together, throw a 'really?' expression Vox's way. He fails to notice that though as he's still looking on in amusement and making his comments-laughing at his own jokes like the sad, little simp he is.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I like to imagine that Vox kidnaps Nifty just to spite Alastor and Alastor, not one to back down from a challenge, in turn kidnaps you. So he's been doing his homework too it seems.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It then becomes an awkward trade off of little chaos gremlins, with both Overlords inching towards each other holding each others little friend. Like, they don't even set them on the ground for them to find their way back to their masters-each somewhat paranoid that the others just gonna take both and run away. So they hold the two of you out, using the other arm to slowly reach for their respective little entertainment. As soon their fingers graze their friend, Nifty is swept up into Alastor's arms and you're swept up in Vox's. The two throw glares at each other, shadows curling dangerously behind Alastor and electricity flickering around Vox violently.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I got stuck in his fancy toilet!" Nifty points at Vox.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "He took me to Cannibal Town and a lady named Susan tried to eat me!" You point at Alastor.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ One night as Vox sat in a meeting room surrounded by all his sharks, he downed a bottle of some hard liquor. It was another difficult day. Surprisingly enough, the nail on the coffin was when Vox finally admitted to himself that he does have a favourite.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Can I stay here?" You suddenly appeared on the table which nearly gave Vox's dead cold heart a heart attack. "What?' He recovered. "I like it here. Velvette says I'm like a doll she can dress up and I get lots of new clothes. Valentino lets me clean his studio-with a promise I don't touch him." Vox nearly snorted. Almost. But a rare, vulnerable, genuine smile took its place instead.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I suppose. Your presence is... not unenjoyable to have in the tower." Suddenly Vox finds you climbing his shoulders, hands gripping the top of his monitor to keep yourself steady. You take his hat and place it neatly on top of your own head. Vox glances up at you with a toothy grin. "Onward to my new room, Mister Vox!" Vox stands and cleans up after himself, not removing you from the piggy back you forced upon him. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that strange head of yours."

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You, dear (Y/n), are a soul worth keeping-and a friend worth having.

This took longer to get out than expected. Sorry about that. I think it came out longer than I expected too. A lot longer actually. I might make a part 2 bc this was so fun! Thanks for reading! Likes + Reblogs are appreciated!

Tags: @viviannagiorgini @fabii275

#hazbin hotel #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #fluff #headcanons #familial #platonic #x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox hh #vox hazbin hotel

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manwalksintobar · 5 months

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if we’ve gotta live underground and everybody’s got cancer/ will poetry be enuf? // Eisa Davis to Ntozake Shange

dear ntozake,

I got sacks of mercury under the skin beneath my eyes either cried too much or i’m abt to the cool war’s burnin up my retina again does poetry start where life ends? i know i’m supposed to be cool: i wear corrective lenses that feature high definition tragedy. baby in the dumpster ethnic cleansing assassinations multinational mergers i’m supposed to shake my head write a poem believe in ripples. but i ain’t cool. i emit inhuman noises i imagine terrorist acts as i flick my imaginary ash onto the imaginary tray i imagine going insane with a purpose and writing it down feels sorta unnecessary does poetry end where life begins? berkeley girl black girl red diaper baby born of the blood of the struggle but with reaganomics and prince pickin up steam in ‘81 nothing came between me and my calvins 10 yrs old unpressed hair playin beethoven readin madeleine l’engle got scared in my pants when i heard this girl testifying ‘TOUSSAINT’ in the black repertory group youth ensemble i was just sittin in a rockin chair pretendin to be 82 and talkin like I knew all bout langston’s ‘rivers’

i wasn’t as good as her and i definitely wadn’t cool so i gave up drama and decided to bake soufflés zake you wda beat me up in the playground if we’da grown up together and you did eighth grade ‘he dropped em’ at the regional oratorical competition i saw another fly honey rip it this time it’s ‘a nite with beau willie brown’ i was bleedin on the ground i became yours no more soufflés i jacked for colored girls right off my mama’s shelf my mama fania who was sweatin with you and raymond sawyer and ed mock and halifu osumare dancin on the grass back in the day in you i found a groove never knew i had one like that did that monologue over and over alone in my room my bunk bed the proscenium arch 13 yrs old screamin and cryin abt my kids gettin dropped out a window didn't know a damn thing about rivers but i knew abt my heart fallin five stories you were never abbreviated or lower case to me you just pimped that irony that global badass mackadocious funkology you not only had hígado you had ben-wa balls in yr pussy

betsey brown on my godmother's couch nappy edges in mendocino at the mouth of big river spell #7 after the earthquake in silverlake the love space demands had to be in brooklyn yr poems are invitations to live in yr body love letters yr admirers dream they coulda written themselves no one cd find a category that was yr size blackety black but never blacker than thou you teased me into sassiness when i had none to speak of made profane into sacred but never formed a church sanctified women's lives whether we were reading nietzsche or a box of kotex we were magical and regular you many-tongued st louis woman of barnard and barcelona you left us the residue of yr lust left us to wander life as freely as sassafrass cypress and indigo and even the unedumacated could get yr virtuosity cuz you always fried it up in grease you built an aqueduct from lorraine hansberry's groundwater and it bubbled straight to george c wolfe you never read what the critics said and you scrunched up the flesh between yr eyebrows like everybody else in my family

but zake is poetry enuf?

i beg the question cuz you grew me up you and adrienne kennedy and anna deavere smith and all my mothers you blew out the candles on my 26th so when there's mercury under the skin beneath my eyes and the world ain't so cool do you write a poem or a will?

like leroi jones said if bessie smith had killed some white people she wouldn't have needed that music so do we all write like amiri baraka does or do we all get our nat turner on?

i beg the question cuz i wanna get my life right do some real work and i really don't want to kill any white folk i mean can we talk abt this maybe it's just my red diaper that's itchin but i still got that will to uplift the race sans bootstraps or talented tenths or paper bag tests this time we uplift the human race and i know the rainbow might be but is poetry enuf?

it's a naive question but i'm old enuf to ask them once in a while if we do finally unload the canon clean it out stock up on some more colorful balls ain't we only gettin the ones that are available at a store near you? doesn't the market end up setting the new standards anyway? is poetry enuf if it ain't sellin? if ain't nobody readin it? can poetry keep a man who can't read from droppin his kids out a window?

and how can i call a ceasefire to this cool war in stanzas of eights when we've declared poetry a no fly zone? we have learned to protect it and its potential politics like a mother shoot down anyone who might overdetermine a poem's meaning (while we poets divebomb everyone else's politics with impunity like we're the United States or something)

if poetry is just poetry we save it from the conservatives but doesn't that mean it's of no use to the progressives?

is poetry enuf? cuz that's all i'm doin. makin up stories on stage on the page keepin the beat and that's all my friends are doin and that's what a lot of folks my age are doin

but if we've gone and burnt up everything in the sky if there's nothin else to eat but landfill stroganoff if we've gotta live underground and everybody's got cancer will poetry be enuf?

my aunt angela says i can do my thang and keep swinging left hooks to oppression if i stay up stay into it stay involved just one form of praxis will do. it's just my guilt that thinks i need twenty-two what's enuf?

shouldn't i (or somebody) be our secular bodhisattva become a real power player but skip the talk show can't we stabilize, rekindle collectives and cooperatives and collaborations therapeutic communities that double as creative juggernauts a publishing house a theatre where the plays cost less than the movies get the neighborhood coven back together take dance breaks in the cubicles sing until the flourescent lights burst into snow i ask you because you changed me zake you changed thousands of women and i know poetry can't be enuf if you drunk

i ain't tryin ta walk off wid alla yr stuff and i got nuttin but love for ya so that's why i gotta know i'm sittin on my bed encircled by every book you've ever published they're open like fans marking pages with the flint of genius all i want is for this circle to grow so tell me:

is this where poetry and life are twins? i felt so crumpled up when i started writing you poetry seemed so useless and dingy next to all the bright red bad news but now that the poem is over i feel wide open like an infant of the spring just tell me how to feed this light to my responsibilities and poetry just might be enuf love eisa

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