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#Hazbin hotel Vox x you
klttn · 5 hours
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nsfw//
vox and housewife reader that he loves to spoil and ravish gently when he gets home :3
he gift y/n flowers then proceed to absolutely destroy her in bed !!! wowie
𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝑒
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pairing : vox x f!reader
content!! : smut. sir kink bc i can. soft slapping. lots of praise. breeding. smidge of dacryphilia. liiiitle bit of dumbification.
summary : vox sends you flowers and a little gift whilst he’s at work.
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wear something pretty for me.
that’s what the handwritten note in your hand said.
vox had been in meeting after meeting all day. in the morning when you woke up, he was gone and you hadn’t heard from him since. you hated it.
it’d been hours of you mindlessly waiting for him to come home, needing just something from him.
that’s when you got the flowers. a bouquet of all your favourites with a little letter planted in the middle.
“for my babygirl,
i’ll be home soon. wear something pretty for me, okay? i can’t wait to ravish you, pretty girl.
love, vox <3”
your thighs instinctively flush themselves tight together where you sat on yours and vox’s silk sheets. you could feel yourself grow needier with excitement, that’s when you noticed the small box that came with the flowers, wrapped in pink ribbon.
the ribbons pulled so beautifully as you took off the lid off to reveal the contents. you blushed, flustered expression quickly taking over, reaching into the box.
there lies a short lace lingerie set, a pair of cotton thigh high socks with adorning bows and a beautiful velvet collar. the collar had a silver heart tag resting in the middle with the engraving, ‘sir’s.’
he knew you so well.
𝜗𝜚
your hands slid over the lace of the sheer dress as you looked at yourself in the mirror. thin ribbon detailing on the hem and a small rose in the centre between your chest.
you smiled, gaze drifting to your tits, soft and excited, peeking out of the fabric of the bust that was barely covering your nipples. then your thighs, they fit so perfect in the pink socks, cute pudge spilling out the tops, accentuating the plush flesh.
just how he liked it.
"honey, i’m home!” vox sang comically, strutting into the room only to pause when he saw you standing there. “oh…” his voice dropped. “my gorgeous girl.”
a pink tint crept up your neck and face as you started to play with your fingers, “hi, voxie.”
“hi, baby,” vox smirked and perched himself on the edge of your bed, spreading his legs and patting his thighs, beckoning you to take a seat, “come here, let me look at you, it’s been far too long without my hands on you.”
giggling to yourself, you walked over to him and straddled his lap, arching yourself into his touch, his hands immediately going to your hips and waist, “missed you, vox.”
“i know, baby, i know,” his hands squeezing now, “god, just look at you, all pretty for me,” vox’s breathing getting heavier the more he touched and took you in, the little outfit he had sent for you being better than he could’ve imagined. he moved one of his hands to now be caressing the side of your face, “my pretty girl, so desperate and waiting for me.”
you felt him growing underneath you, his cock practically begging for your cunt, making you buck your hips into him. “vox, please, i need it.”
vox moved his hand off your face to your throat, slightly squeezing then gripping onto the collar that wrapped around your neck, holding the heart shaped pendant and pulling gently, “what’s my name?”
“vox i-“
“my name, baby.” he interrupted, voice stern.
“sir,“ you begun, instantly being cut off by vox again.
“good girl,” his voice low as three dings erupted from his speakers, something so subtle yet so easy to make you feel just that little bit more dumb in voxs hands. “such a clever girl.” his hands now back on your hips, guiding you.
all that just made you sink further into that subby feeling you had in your gut since vox walked through the door, grinding yourself further into him, letting out small moans. the sight was enthralling, something about vox being fully clothed whilst you looked borderline pornographic made you weak.
“fuck baby, you need me that bad, yeah?” you nodded eagerly, “getting that needy just from me treating you like the ditzy little girl you are,” he starts kissing your neck, causing you to bar your neck for him, “so pliable.”
“sir, please,” you breathed, moans making you sound breathless, “need you, sir, need it.”
“what do you need baby? tell me.”
“i-inside,” you looked away, shy and wanting, “wanna be filled.”
vox’s screen glitches slightly as if something switched in him, “don’t worry, princess, i’ll make sure my cock and cum is the only thing you can feel,” he growls, slipping his cock out his trousers and pressing it up against your cunt.
before he could push in, you started rubbing your pussy up and down against his length, letting it slide in your folds, too eager to be patient, little moans escaping every time the tip brushed your clit through your panties.
but it still wasn’t enough, your movements getting sporadic as you tried to line his cock up to your entrance.
“poor thing,” vox cooed, “so needy. do you need sir to help you with that?”
you whined softly signalling yes and bucked your hips some more.
a smirk grew on vox’s face as he wrapped his arms around you, stilling you and flipping you over so that he was positioned between your spread thighs, towering over you.
he grazed his fingers over the lines of your panties before sliding them off you, your cunt fully on display for him, clit puffy and swollen before him.
“such a pretty pussy.” you keened at the praise, lifting your hips in attempt for some contact, “let me take care of it.”
vox adjusted himself and placed his dripping cock over your clit, tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with his tip before resting at your entrance, spreading your hole and forcing himself in, immediately bottoming out, causing you to let out a high pitched whine.
“biiig stretch.” he mocked, his hands now shifting to free your boobs from their confines in the pretty lace, “so fucking adorable,” he said to himself before moving his mouth to suck on one of your nipples.
you pushed yourself into his mouth, craving more, “m-move.”
“is that how we ask, baby?” he questions, pulling away from your tits, making you let out a frustrated huff, earning yourself a small slap on the thigh, “be good for me and ask nicely.”
“please s-sir, fuck me.”
“what my babygirl wants, she gets.” vox leaned down softly placing a kiss on your forehead, his grip moving to your hips and tightening before pulling out agonisingly slowly.
just the tip was stretching you out now, making you feel so empty before he thrust back in with full vigour, setting up a pace that was brutal. “so fucking tight, baby.”
your head lolled back and so did your eyes, mouth agape letting out such lewd sounds, tongue poking out slightly.
you could feel every inch of his dick inside you, all the veins and the slight curve filling you up just right, it was overwhelming, making you cock drunk and dizzy.
“awh baby,” vox grunted, pace not stopping, “look at how dumb you look like this,” his hands leaving claw marks into the lace and bruising where they held you so harshly. “and all for me.”
all you could do is whine and whimper n nod your head, your hands now latching onto vox’s back, scratching and digging your nails in as you clung to him.
“fuck,” vox’s cock started pulsing, getting off on the harsh lines been scorned into his back, “just like that, good girl.” the praise only made you push yourself further on his cock, so deep you could feel it bulge in your tummy.
vox’s hand waved over your abdomen, relishing in feeling himself through you, watching how you lost your grip on his back and started shaking, getting closer and closer to your orgasm the more he abused your pussy.
“gonna cum baby? gonna cum for me, yeah?” he preened, rubbing his thumb over your clit, lifting your cotton covered thighs over his shoulders, his other hand coming to softly slap your face, keeping you focused on him, not relenting with his cock either. “keep your eyes on me, don’t stop looking at me, you’re not that dumb yet, i wanna see that pretty face as you cum.”
that was enough to have you falling over the edge, body spasming, an ‘o’ shape forming on your mouth, keening and mewling as your orgasm shook through you. “good girlll.” he praised.
your legs slid open and off vox’s shoulders, the thigh highs you were wearing bunching and riding down your legs, so messy yet even more provocative.
your cum was mixing with vox’s pre cum and your slick, causing down right filthy noises to fill the room as his balls smacked against your ass.
your breath was heavy as you came down from your high, tightening your pussy even more around vox, desperate to have his cum, still letting out small yelps whenever his cock would push against your cervix.
chest still heaving up and down and legs quivering, your eyes starting to close and head fall to the side, losing yourself to the pleasure. vox wasn’t going to allow that just yet.
he laced his hand in the top of your hair, yanking harshly, “you’re not done yet babygirl, keep your eyes open.” he commanded.
vox shifted his weight, attacking a new spot, the spot.
you let out a silent scream, eyes darting open, trying to pull away from vox’s grip, the sensation feeling too intense, “you can’t escape me, silly girl,” he teased.
small tears rolled down your cheeks, the pleasure so much for your petite body to handle, “g-gonna cum, please please, don’t stop, feels s’ good.” you cried.
“god you look so pretty when you cry for me like that. come on pretty thing, cum on my cock.” your eyes squeezed shut, orgasm crashing over you for the second time that night, pussy clenching just right around vox, “gonna milk me so good, like you were made to.”
using the last bit of energy you had, you looked up at vox with wide, wanting eyes, still brimmed with unshed tears “…breed me,” you begged cutely, using your arms to push your tits together and making your eyelashes flutter as you looked at him.
“shit, fuck, baby, you’re so fucking filthy.” vox grunted, thrusts becoming irratic, cock twitching and spilling his load deep in your pussy, aggressively pushing against your walls, the ropes of cum filling you up. “putting my cum exactly where it belongs.”
for a few seconds, all that could be heard was the heavy breathing of you both calming down.
once vox had returned to his normal state, he pulled out to take a second to look at your cunt leaking his seed, making you whimper at the loss.
“so cute,” he mused and smiled at his handy work before scooping you up into his lap, hands soothing your back and stroking your hair.
your breathing was still uneven and your body shaky from all the tention your body took, “shh baby, it’s okay, you did so good, so good for me, such a good girl.” he whispered into your ear, rocking you and bouncing you gently in his lap, “it’s okay, my angel, i’ve got you.”
“voxieee,” you whined, sniffling and nuzzling into his neck, “m sleepy vox.”
“that’s okay baby, go to sleep, i’ll clean you up, okay? you’re safe with me.”
you whispered a muffled ‘i love you,’ and that’s the last thing you remember. before giving yourself to sleep. and vox.
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A/N : dom vox is my favourite thing in the world, he’s so dreamy <33 n this is my first smut… so i really hope you liked it, please like comment n reblog n let me know your thoughts <33
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saturncodedstarlette · 2 months
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Vox : There is no Easter bunny. There is no tooth fairy. And there aRE NO HOT MILFS IN YOUR AREA
Y/N : BUT THE AD SAID—
Vox : THE AD IS A LIE
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redr0sewrites · 1 month
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Red and Green Flags of Some of the Hazbin Hotel Cast
the title says it all! i'm just blurbing about some red/green flags they have when ur dating them :)
🥀Cw: nsfw mentions but nothing explicit, mostly crack and fluff and maybe the slightest angst when it comes to red flags
🥀Pairing(s): Adam x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader
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Adam
Green flags
INSANELY loyal. this man was cheated on twice and left for the same guy. if he's in a serious relationship with you i genuinely can not see him cheating bc this man is genuinely so devoted to you and only you. he's had his fair share of hookups but very very very rarely commits to a serious relationship, which means if he does, you're not only very special but he genuinely thinks you're "the one". when it comes to these serious actual relationships (not just hookups or situationships) he's very very loyal and would never think of cheating on you. he also dates to marry when it comes to serious relationships and will genuinely try to make the relationship last. this also means you get to see a side of him that most people don't get to, and he's generally very soft with you. he treats you so much better than everyone else and expects everyone else around you to do the same
adam is very supportive of you- he definitely gives off "THATS MY PARTNER‼️" vibes. while he likes to think he's in charge, if you change your tone towards him he immediately agrees with you like a hurt puppy. if you have any important decisions you want to make he's much more likely to compromise or agree with you than if anyone else was suggesting an idea. adam can be irritating, but when it comes to you, he's absolutely wrapped around your finger. your also the only person who can make him knock it off when he's patronizing someone and you're also the only reason sera has not attempted to strangle him because you've been keeping him in check since you both started dating
adam always has your back and is on your side no matter what. there is no devil's advocate for him, if his partner is in a fight with someone he's automatically on their side. adam is absolutely the type to tell someone off for shit talking you and is also the type to tell you if someone was being rude to you behind your back. he's also not the kind of guy to shit talk you behind your back and gets pissed at guys who complain about their wives and stuff like that. if he has an issue he tells you to your face and doesn't believe in hiding anything in your relationship.
Red Flags
adam is very insecure about his masculinity even if he doesn't want to admit it and this can be problematic in your relationship. he puts on a lot of appearances around others and acts much more confident when he is, and sometimes his fake persona can piss you off a bit because he genuinely treats you so differently in private versus in public. he also very rarely takes off his mask around you, especially early on into the relationship. in reality it's because he's insecure about how he looks, but he'd never actually admit that (at least early on) so you're stuck in a loop of asking him to take off the mask, him making up some bullshit lie about how he can't, you getting pissed at him and the mask, and him getting more insecure bc he thinks you don't like him anymore. eventually it ends with a conversation about how u love him regardless of what he looks like, but it takes time to get there that might be irritating for you
he is INCREDIBLY clingy, and also huge on PDA- but like even if its not the most appropriate time, he's pulling you onto his lap or slapping your ass or something like that. he also will make a lot of lewd and inappropriate jokes in public- we know he's childish and he is the embodiment of middle school boy humor. you guys could be out in public just trying to have a cute date but he always ruins the moment by making it sexual or making a shitty joke. adam is also very unaware of his surroundings and horrible at reading people so you could be extremely uncomfortable and he just... wouldn't notice unless you told him so. adam isn't great at expressing intimacy nonsexually (he was quite literally created for the sole purpose of populating earth, and a part of him still lowkey thinks he's only good for sex ☹️) so he ends up accidentally turning non-sexual moments sexual. he isn't trying to annoy you, but it can seem insensitive.
pisses you off on purpose. adam does care about you and your feelings but he also can be childish. he'll see that your pissed off and will make a joke only for you to get even more angry at him, but he'll get super defensive even if he was in the wrong saying he was just trying to make you laugh. he will feel very bad afterwards tho, especially if you cry or get really upset because, as i said before, he isn't great at expressing himself and genuinely doesn't mean to hurt you sometimes
Alastor
Green Flags
very respectful of your boundaries. relationships are new to him after all, and he isn't the most expressive lover, so alastor knows that dating him can be tough. he never pushes you too hard or forces himself on you, and he takes your opinion into consideration a lot when it comes to decisions or dealing with life in general. he always asks before taking your hand or kissing you, and he initiates most of the courting process, not wanting to put too much pressure on you. when you first caught feelings for him you were genuinely so scared that he wouldn't even want to be friends with you anymore, but once you found out he reciprocated your feelings, at least in his own way, you were elated. this lead to him being the one to initiate most dates and things like that, at least early on, so that he could show you he was serious about treating you well. you definitely recieve top tier princess treatment (regardless of gender)
protective, but not in a limiting way. if you're dating alastor, then you have to have been friends for at least a while before officially getting together, and he also has to trust you a lot. alastor always wants you to be safe, he knows how cruel hell can be, and he knows that others can use you to hurt him. however, he also trusts you and your strength, and he tries to keep a decent balance of protecting you but also letting you make decisions for yourself. you both definitely have conversations about him sending his shadow to watch over you when your away, and he prefers to have you by his side more than anything else
alastor is very emotionally intelligent and is great at reading people. this skill comes to use a lot and you both very rarely argue over anything because he's very quick to notice when something is bothering you. he's also great at communication, and isn't afraid to sit down and have a conversation with you about how you feel about him and how he feels about you. when it comes to your relationship he wants to make sure you both are on the same page, and yall are the type of couple to have monthly check-ins where you sit doen and just talk about what you're feeling. this leads to a lot of open conversations with alastor, and overtime it made your trust for him grow. he would never tell anyone anything confidential about you, and he genuinely views you as his equal.
Red Flags
alastor does not like change, which means he is not great at adjusting his own behaviors. this also means he refuses to catch up to modern technology and trends and is overall very outdated. he'll get irritated with you for using modern slang he doesn't understand, but will refuse to actually learn the slang terminology. while his class and refinement is attractive and well-meaning in most cases, in some situations it can definitely cause some friction between the two of you. he never wants to watch a movie with you, or go to a nightclub, or even attend concert with you because they're all "too modern" for his tastes. then he'll turn around and get pissed if you invite someone else! alastor also pretty much refuses to take photos with you and avoids most technology all together. i genuinely think he does have a phone, but its super outdated and he is the absolute dryest texter. he will just leave you on read most of the time and doesnt understand why its a big deal
he is not very physically attentive. while we know that alastor is definitely not a fan of being touched, there are moments where he will just randomly start being very touchy with you, but won't let you reciprocate. like he will completely invade your personal space at the most random lowkey inconvenient time and start showing you affection, but when you try to reciprocate he just gets icked out and pulls away. alastor doesn't even explain himself either, he will just... walk away. he doesn't understand that you have very different needs than him and is always confused as to why you're so touch starved. he's giving you attention, isn't that enough? he just doesn't get that theres a vast difference between him looming over you and practically leaning on you, and actually cuddling him and showing you affection. he also will randomly just disappear for days on end. like one day you'll be hanging out going on cute romantic dates to cannibal town and literally being fine and then the next he's gone with no note not information, you just wake up and he isn't there. alastor gets better at communicating his absences once he realizes how worried it makes you, but its certainly alarming in the beginning of your relationship because you think he's upset with you when in reality he's just fucking around and finding out doing god knows what. it takes time for the both of you to find a happy medium ground where you can satisfy your own physical needs while he can also take his own space, but once you do, your relationship goes a LOT smoother.
Vox
Green Flags
Very devoted to you. vox is the type of guy to be absolutely WHIPPED for everything his partner does, and he is not afraid of showering you in affection. while he does find public image important, in his mind, you're the most important and valuable thing in his life. he wants the world to know that you belong to him and that he belongs to you, and he is NOT the type of person to be embarrassed about his partners quirks
He prioritizes satisfying your needs and feelings. whether its sexually, physically, or emotionally, vox is always willing to provide you with comfort. he would never want you to be left unsatisfied or needy, and really wants to be enough for you. vox is self aware and knows that he isn't perfect, but he always gives you more than the bare minimum. his work schedule is a little wild and he always feels bad about not getting to spend time with you so he schedules out full days that are dedicated just to you. he's very attentive and is pretty good at noticing when something is wrong, and he has no qualms about approaching you about anything you might be facing.
trusts you. a lot. in the beginning of the relationship less so, but over time he gradually opens up to you more and more. you are definitely vox's favorite person without a doubt, and he makes sure you know it. early on in your friendship, before you even started dating, vox found himself falling for you. he really didn't want to fuck up what he had with you and wanted to make it clear that you meant more to him. in the beginning of your official relationship, especially during the honeymoon phase and first couple months, he's SOOOO nervous. vox very rarely lets his guard down around others, but with you, he feels his walls instantly shatter. he doesn't understand why he's so drawn to you, but he loves you because of it. he finds a lot of comfort in you and your one of the very few people who have seen him at his worst.
Red Flags
vox sometimes thinks he knows whats best for you, and will act on his own accord to make decisions for you, especially early into a relationship. vox knows hell is dangerous and he knows that there are people who would hurt you to get to him, and he wants to keep you safe more than anything. sometimes he'll watch you on security cameras without your consent, or he'll track you on your phone to know where you are. if you ever found out he wouldn't see the issue until you explained it, but if you really, really had a problem with it he'd stop.
he can be manipulative without even realizing it. vox is surrounded by cruel, nasty people most of the time and will take his own nastiness out on you unnecessarily. like you both will be in an argument and he won't even listen to your side because he just automatically assumes he's right. he'll be condescending and try to change your mind rather than hearing you out. this is obviously very frustrating on your end because, while vox isn't always aware of it, he's still treating you like shit and just trying to manipulate you. i also think he'd accidentally hypnotize you sometimes. like you both would be arguing and vox's hypnotism would just start and he wouldn't realize until he noticed that you were just staring blankly at him. he would feel SO guilty about it though, and it would probably eat at him for a while. you're the person he cares about the most and he genuinely doesn't mean to hurt you, and he definitely does not want to hypnotize you without your consent. vox loves you because youre YOU, not because you listen to his every word like everyone else in his life. it honestly makes him insecure, and he starts to worry that maybe it isn't the rest of hell that he should be worried about hurting you, and maybe its himself thats your biggest threat. PLEASE comfort him he has the emotional capacity of a brick and cares about you too much for his own good. over time his toxic manipulation and cruel behaviors stop, especially towards you, but it can be very, very tedious in the start of your relationship.
mansplains. this is moreso a personal pet peeve of mine and as much as i love and adore vox he absolutely would mansplain and would get pissed when you don't listen. he would also get pouty if you already understand what he's talking about or just brush him off. sometimes it can be kind of endearing though when he's infodumping, and over time his mansplaining slowly forms to infodumping to you. its kinda cute how his behavior changed to match yours, and how excited he gets over sharing shark facts with you.
loved writing this sm this was lowkey an excuse to just psychoanalyize my favs- will prob do a pt 2 once i finish all 500 of my other WIPS + requests lmao- this was originally gonna include luci but i couldn't think of enough red flags and i was also very tired so im sorrryyyyyy he'll probably be in pt 2 😭
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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Weak Spots for Alastor, Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Valentino
Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox, Valentino x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, weak spot, teasing, kissing, wings, blushing, suggestive
A/N: I think some would be pretty obvious but still fun to think about.
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Alastor keep his tail hidden for a good reason. The moment you find out about it you want to touch it. His smile snakes when you do, the static audio increasing and his hands pulling you close and whispering that there will be consequences if you ever do that without his permission. Good consequences.
Lucifer only reveals his wings when it's needed. Despite him being an ex arch-angel he still has sensitive wings, all angels do, so it's best to keep them folded on when he doesn't need them. They fan out and bristle when you run your fingers across them, his apple cheeks flaming red because he's trying his best to calm them down.
Angel Dust doesn't et you hold his hips often when you're being intimate. For him something like that feels a bit too intimate, you can pin him down, move him any way you like, but when you touch his hips he gets really ticklish. Not very attractive during sex now is it? Except to you it is, because his laughter is attractive too.
Husk would push you away when your hand gets close to his ears while you're cuddling. He's already purring for you, what more do you want from the grumpy cat? Very reluctant to let you scratch behind them because not only does it make him purr but also makes his wings twitch.
Sir Pentious has weak spots all over him if he's fully honest. His many snake eyes. Which are also his strength in battle so it's kind of like a double edged-sword and he does his best to keep his eyes from wondering to you in an inappropriate way when you're together. After all they're quite easy to poke.
Vox turns from blue to red when you touch the back of his screen. There are a lot of holes and ports back there and all of them are sensitive to the touch. Some in more ways then others so don't be surprised if you touch one and it ends with his tongue down your throat and clothes being torn off your body.
Valentino will never admit this to you but his weak spot is his back. His entire back is very sensitive, especially around his wings so he always keeps your hands pinned or to other parts of him when you're having sex. The moment you run your hand gently down his back he combusts on the spot, which is not good for his stamina.
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tojirights · 3 months
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I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!
a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷
tags: 18+ smut nsfw!
vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.
and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.
"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.
"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.
this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.
"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."
valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.
"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.
and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."
the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.
"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.
"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."
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kuzakat · 3 months
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Goddddd, the way Vox turned around and arched backwards into Val.... WHORE 🫵🏻 BOTTOM 🫵🏻🫵🏻🫵🏻
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jazzmasternot · 2 months
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It’s gotten bad
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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v. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder
"THAT SLAG!"
Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.
"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.
In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.
"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"
He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"
Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.
"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."
"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.
"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.
Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."
"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"
Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."
"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"
"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"
"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.
"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."
"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.
Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.
"Who's this?" she quipped.
"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."
Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.
"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"
"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.
"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."
"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.
A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."
"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.
Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."
.
"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.
Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.
"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.
Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.
Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.
"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.
The radio rumbled with delight at your response.
"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.
"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.
"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.
"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.
"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"
"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”
"Ah, but that's why you love me."
Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.
With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.
I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?
As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.
"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.
For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through
Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.
I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new
Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.
With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.
"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."
"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."
In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.
As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.
Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.
"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.
"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.
"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."
You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.
"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.
"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.
"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.
"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.
And there it was.
"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"
"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."
"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."
"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"
Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.
"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.
Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.
No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 
Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.
With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.
Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.
Your matchbox wasn't there.
Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.
Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.
"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.
You eyed him skeptically for a moment.
In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.
Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.
Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.
"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.
"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.
"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"
"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."
His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."
Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.
"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.
"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."
"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.
Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.
"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."
"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."
"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.
"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.
"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.
"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."
A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.
"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."
Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.
"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."
Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.
A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.
"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."
You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."
"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.
As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.
Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.
Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.
A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.
"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.
"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.
"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.
"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."
You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.
"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.
Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 
Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.
"Oh, you cheese…"
With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.
Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.
Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.
Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.
What in hell was that?
Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.
Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.
Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.
A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.
But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.
The TV Demon, Vox.
His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.
"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"
Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.
"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.
"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.
Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.
"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.
"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.
"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.
"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.
"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."
"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"
"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"
Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"
"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"
"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"
Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"
Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"
"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"
The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.
"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.
"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"
As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.
.
Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 
Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.
With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.
Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.
If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.
"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"
Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.
"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.
Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.
"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.
"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.
"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.
"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."
You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.
"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"
Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.
Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.
Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.
As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality
Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.
Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.
"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."
The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.
"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."
Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.
"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.
"Please let me kill for you."
Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.
A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.
A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.
"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.
There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."
.
Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.
A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?
A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.
It must be love.
With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.
"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."
Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.
"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.
With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.
The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"
You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.
A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.
"What is the meaning of this?" 
Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.
"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"
With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.
With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.
"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."
"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."
"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.
Pretty Dolly Heart.
Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.
The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.
"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"
Your blood ran cold with fear.
"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.
Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.
"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.
With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.
A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.
"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.
With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.
Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.
Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.
"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."
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iicarused · 3 months
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##most desired
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y!vox x reader // y!alastor x reader // y!adam x reader
synopsis: two overlords and an angel who are insufferably in love with you. // she / her pronouns
beware: DARK THEMES // obsessive behaviour, heavy yandere aspects, stalking,
notes: the most y/n thing i ever made
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you were one of the first overlords of hell that remained in the same rank to this day. everyone knew of you and dared not whisper your name in fear that you would come for them. they saw you in the streets or at downtown bars, sometimes at a corner table of ozzie’s. you were a mystery that preferred bringing misery.
little to no people knew of your background. it was swept under the rug to never be looked at again, and maybe lucifer helped with that. you were an angel before, way back when the rules were more strict and heaven was nothing more than a guarded kingdom.
“just one chance, y/n!” adam urged. “one date — that is all i ask for!”
you scoffed at his antics, growing used to his advances of being asked for your hand. “how many times do i have to say i’m not interested? i have work. get going before sera is on my ass.”
sera. your old boss and best friend — everything you worked towards was being at her level — instead came crashing down when you disagreed with the exterminations. adam watched you fall, but sera was the cause.
downstairs, lucifer helped cover it up. it was big talk around hell for quite some time until it was thrown under the rug and you could live in peace. while your power cannot compare to the rulers of hell, it comes close. you’re just careful of not showing that.
the radio demon always shown great interest in you — not that he knew you personally — but enjoyed your story like an old tale. while he isn’t sure which story is the real one, he enjoys the theories that you were just a hellborn that came up.
it was rosie who connected you both. she was a friend of yours, and one of the best cooks you’ve ever known.
“oh my stars! alastor! you have to come meet one of my good friends, you are going to love her!” rosie beckoned. “she is such a pumpkin and the cutest thing! oh, there she is! y/n!, over here sweet pea!” she strides towards your seated area.
you watched your friend gleefully place a hand on the man’s arm, her signature grin tugging at her lips. “this is alastor. alastor, this is y/n.”
it was nice to finally place a face to the name! he had a fondness to you from the start: sat with you at the small of your booth and chatted until nightfall, completely in awe of your welcoming personality.
but why wouldn’t you be welcoming? you are one of the main overlords, what is there to fear when nearly everyone is below you? alastor felt a sort of connection, a relation that you are no different than him.
his admiration only begins to grow from here and continues the more you interact. slowly, he becomes a part of your daily life and starts showing you off to the world that you are an “acquaintance.”
now it was no lie that your name started to spread around hell like a wildfire, especially to know your hiatus is officially over. back to the present of downtown bars and corner table at ozzie’s for dinner — your face was back up to being recognizable — and it was a wonderful change
it would not be until recent years when you would finally meet vox at an overlord meeting: his personality nearly matched yours. if not, then you both had a click that had you both in deep conversation right after.
you could imagine alastors dislike towards that interaction
“so you’re the big talk of hell, huh?” the host approached you with confidence inside and out. “my, what a pretty face! it’s practically made for television, how about we do something about that?” the moment brought your hand to shake his, vox brought you to his side with an arm over your shoulder as he walked you to your seat.
“what do you have in mind?” now, normally you don’t condone this behaviour — but he really piqued your interest. “it’s not like my face isn’t already noticed on the streets, for what reason does it need to be on billboards?”
“stunning features like yours should be shown off, and not just for the streets,” he emphasized. “here’s my card, we could talk more later, dear.”
alastor had a full front view of this interaction and a perfect angle of vox’s smug expression when he watched you tuck the card in your pocket.
now don’t get me wrong, adam has been watching.
he couldn’t let his sweetheart just go to hell like that! littered with sinners and demons and— you get the point. it was hard to recognize him with the mask he now wore, especially since he never made the effort to show himself to you.
what if you were angry at him? he seen your face fall when the topic of exterminating these wretched souls came up. he made a point to his angels that they do not touch a strand of your hair.
he can’t keep himself away from you though, not when there’s no bastards that are getting too cozy with you. his plans of coming back into your life needing to take a charge and fast.
coming down as he pleases to just see you, often keeping his mask on so no demon can see how he looks like. whisking you into the sky so you won’t be able to get away from him
he has your wings on display in heaven, don’t worry about it.
vox and alastor coming to find out someone from the heavens is coming to see you? this is by far the first time in history they will ever come into an agreement of something: no angel hands should ever touch your skin.
alastor makes it a point to constantly whisk you to the hotel, or sometimes his radio station to hide. “they won’t find you here, sweetheart! i’ll keep you safe.”
the way all three of them would become more and more possessive the more time you are with one or the other. you can’t say no, there is denial when wanting to just stay home alone. someone is always at your hip.
there is only so much time where you either kill one of them or they take you and hide forever: but forever isn’t long when adam has his angels searching for you each year.
“c’mon babe! we could go back up to heaven, i’ll pull some strings!” adam often confides.
“we could rule over hell with no one to undermine our power if we took the chance!” vox would persuade.
“we could hide forever and live however you desire if you just take my hand.” alastor chimes.
having these 3 men after you is something you do not want, especially when their obsession levels keep rising. at this rate, murder is an option. it’s only the matter of time.
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doushitemacaron · 3 months
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I can't believe this show gave me rival rival-ships. It's like rival inception and I'm so here for it.
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saturncodedstarlette · 2 months
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Vox : Say my name baby
Y/N : Vox?
Vox, slightly louder : Say my name baby
Y/N : Vox??
Vox : You smart. You loyal. You grateful. I appreciate that 😌
Y/N, thinking : (Is he drunk?)
Vox, places stacks of money in front of them : Go buy yourself a house.
Vox, places more stacks of money in front of them : Go buy yourself houses.
Vox, even more stacks of money towering before them : Go put this money in your savings account
Vox, pulling out more money : Go spend some money for no reason. Come back and ask for more 😌
Y/N, just baffled :
Y/N : (Well I’m not gonna deny free money 👀 and a new sugar daddy 👀)
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redr0sewrites · 1 month
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Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna
THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭
🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox
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when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed
your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes
vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said
once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room
he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more
"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder
after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much
once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you
the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him
its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time
you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh
after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently
vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought
there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can
whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!
he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree
vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again
"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*
overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️
vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.
"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"
you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."
i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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Can I request a fem reader wearing something skimp around the hazbin men
Something skimpy... hm... that can be a lot of things.
Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox, Valentino x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, flirting, kissing, playful biting, sexy clothes, height difference, kabedon
A/N: Love seeing some sexy clothes on sexy people, which is everyone. That's right. You are beautiful to someone.
Alastor would throw his coat over you at first glance out of fear that you're cold. Wearing so little, what are you thinking? At least warn him, you're to pretty to just show so much skin and expect him to keep it together. Still feels you would be cold so he invites you to cuddle and kiss by the fire, and he can have his coat back.
Lucifer sees you and all six of his wings pop out. You know exactly what that reaction means and what kind of night you're in for. Which was part of the reason you chose this tight as hell dress, and also so you can watch his eyes literally light up when you walk up to him and bend down to give him a deep kiss.
Adam won't even give your outfit a second glance. Not because he doesn't think it suits you, you look very good in it, a bit too good and you have a meeting in a few minutes. It's gonna be very hard for him to keep his hands to himself during it, which now that he thinks about it may have been your plan all along.
Husk is careful not to ruin your outfit by being hasty and grabby. He uses his wings to cover you from view of others, audibly purring when you press close to him, skin to fur. Wants and will put his mouth and tongue all over every inch of your bare body when you're alone, which is prays is soon.
Sir Pentious doesn't know where he should look when you walk out barely wearing anything. He hides behind his hat but it too is blushing and his tail keeps tapping nervously against the floor. Doesn't want you to cover up or anything, he's only trying his best to be a gentleman.
Vox pulls you into his lap, his broadcast being postponed until he has his fill of you. This is why you wore something like this right, for his attention? Little do you know you would have it no matter what you chose to wear, you'd have all his attention, his kisses, his touches, his love and his lust all in one.
Valentino makes your outfit hit the floor in a span of a few minutes of you putting it on. It's lovely on you, he hopes you wear it more, such pretty, sexy lingerie, in his colors no less. Will buy you more just like this, you can wear it under your clothes while you work, he will buy you new ones for each he ruins.
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deadghosy · 1 month
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🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐
JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL
Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🪼⋆。˚
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𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation. 
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.
𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.
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A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3
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jazzmasternot · 2 months
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Vox came to me in a dream and told me to post this.
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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iv. dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago
˚୨୧₊♱
"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.
With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"
"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"
Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"
A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.
"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"
Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.
"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."
"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"
Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"
"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.
As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"
Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"
Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."
˚୨୧₊♱
The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.
Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.
Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.
Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.
"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."
"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."
"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"
Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."
A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"
“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"
With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.
Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."
"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"
"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.
"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.
"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."
"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.
Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.
As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.
"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"
With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"
As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.
On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.
Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.
Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.
"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.
The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.
"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."
"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.
It was a look he knew all too well.
"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"
Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.
Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.
The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.
"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."
"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.
"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."
"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"
Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."
Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.
The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.
"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.
"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"
"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.
"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"
Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"
"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."
"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"
Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."
Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"
"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."
Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"
The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.
"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.
"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."
"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.
"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.
Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.
˚୨୧₊♱
You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.
You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.
"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."
Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.
A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.
You missed your husband.
With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.
"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸
A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.
Alastor.
Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.
With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.
"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.
Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.
"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."
Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.
From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.
Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.
The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.
You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.
In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.
Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.
The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"
"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"
"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."
Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.
To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract
"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"
"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"
As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.
"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.
"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.
"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.
"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.
"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."
"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.
"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."
A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."
Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.
"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.
"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.
Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.
“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”
"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."
“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”
Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.
"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"
Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.
A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "
Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.
"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"
"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."
Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.
The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.
The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.
Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.
"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.
"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."
˚୨୧₊♱
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