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cleo-fox · 4 months

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Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable.

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest.

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you smut #loki x yn smut #loki imagine

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rubra-wav · 2 months

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Hello! I saw asks were open and I wanted to drop a request! What if Husk, Angeldust, and Alastor (separate) had a s/o who revealed that they could break deals on their (the collared's) end given some time?

Husk, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Dealbreaker S/O

[Part 2]

A/N: Alastor's is written as purely platonic tho per my personal boundaries

My Hazbin OC actually is a powerful Dealbreaker, so I'm going off of the lore I've thought up on this topic for him haha

I will maybe write a part 2 where reader actually manages to break the contracts rather than just saying they could.

CW: Sfw, angsty asf in places, reference to addiction, mention/reference to violence, Angel's touches a bit more on abuse response/trauma response type stuff, body/ horror imagery in Alastor's (Alastor being the creature he is basically)

Husk

- Husk would not believe you at all at first.

- He would be tending the bar and then stop mid-drying a glass as a heartbreaking hint of hope (the first hope he'd felt in centuries) passes over his face for a second before crumpling and turning to extreme bitterness.

- "That's not funny." He'd growl through grit teeth at you, thinking it was some kind of cruel joke.

- When reassured that you are absolutely serious, he gives you more of a look of almost pity, sighing as if deeply tired.

- He tells you that multiple people have told him the same thing over the years, and that they have all failed just the same.

- All skilled people who were known to be able to break even soul ownership deals wide open.

- The leash Alastor had on him was air-tight.

- He basically tells you it would be a giant waste of time and that you should give up and focus your time on something better then a poor old sinner like himself.

- When you don't back down from the discouragement, he sighs again, but feels warmth burning in his chest at the fact you wanted to help him so badly.

- He's not hopeful, but he wants to have faith in you even if he's trying to discourage you and scare you straight as much as possible.

- He wants so badly to be free so he can be with you without any limits of his commitment to you and only you. To not have to think about whether he's going to be summoned to some bullshit getup again whenever Alastor gets bored of the Hazbin Hotel.

- Deep down he's absolutely desperate for you to succeed in your mission.

- He wants the catalyst for his alcohol problem to go away so he can live and finally actually be happy without the heaviness of his deal weighing on him at all times, making him desperately need the escape.

- He absolutely will tell you very very seriously to not to let this slip that you're doing this to anybody though - or talk about this in a place you aren't absolutely confident doesn't have any certain member of the hotel listening in.

- Husk doesn't think that Alastor would harm you physically over this, that asshole would probably just find it amusing. However.

- Husk's worst fear would be you trying to get him his soul back by signing away yours, something very possible Alastor would offer as a trick.

- He'd be skeptical, fearful of you succumbing to a deal with Alastor, and not very hopeful at all as he's tried time and time again to break the contract on his soul. You are so... optimistic that you'll find a way, but again, his collar is air-tight. You'll have your work cut out for you breaking the deal of someone who's notoriously a dealmaker.

Angel Dust

- When you tell him that, he tenses up with a sharp inhale of breath, a complete 180 from how he just was seconds before, winding down from his night in his hotel room with you.

- Angel's deal would be logically way more easier to break. However, what Valentino's deal doesn't directly hold of Angel, the moth's manipulation keeps him stuck imprisoned under him.

- Angel absolutely would have thought of contacting a dealbreaker, however never actually would due to how terrified he is. If it turned out one of those people were a mole for Val trying to catch him out, Angel would be in so much pain from the punishment that that would entail. You cannot trust someone claiming to be a dealbreaker in hell isn't lying to you through their teeth.

- When he realises you are absolutely serious though, and obviously confident in your abilities, a myriad of harsh emotions pass across Angel's face. Fear (for both his and your safety), and hope made themselves the most apparent.

- Fear of what Val would do to him if he ever found out about this conversation. What he'd do to you.

- Valentino was certainly not above hurting people to get his way. Angel knew that better then anybody. But if Val ever caught wind that Angel's secret lover behind the scenes was trying to steal away Val's biggest money maker and favourite toy, he'd kill you. Straight up.

- That fear was there and was deeply terrifying to him. But so was the hope. A flurry of hope that fills him with relief and brings tears pricking at his eyes at the idea that he could actually be free of his captor and go do whatever you two decide and be fully happy without fear of Val.

- Live with you not as Angel Dust, but as Anthony. Completely his real, authentic self.

- "How." He whispers breathlessly.

- You tell him that you need to see the contract itself, analyse all the ins and outs and come up with a counter-contract.

- There would be a few ways you could actually break the deal from there, and although they would be time consuming and possibly (very much probably) dangerous, you were confident you could break him out.

- Angel would be extremely fearful, but also hopeful. You seem confident in your ability as his contract is messy and poorly crafted. He's reassured as you say that what's mostly chaining him down is the psychological control Val has over him.

Alastor

- When you tell Alastor this, I feel he could respond two ways depending on how you've learnt that information.

If he hasn't told you himself:

- If he hasn't told you this or doesn't know how you've found out, he's going to be absolutely pissed. At you and probably Husk (assuming Husk told you)

- He'd turn towards you with jerky, unnatural movements, bones and joints cracking loudly in a cringe worthy way. Overhead, the lights would be flickering as static begins to fill your head.

- Towering over you, he'd be still bent in that weird position as he grips sharpened claws into your shoulders. Your friendship is the only thing keeping him from making you nothing more then a stain on the wall.

- "Who told you about that."

- When you tell how you've found out, he likely let's out a chuckle dripping with anger that makes you want to cover your ears as the sound scrapes into them. "And what makes you think you could do what even I cannot?"

- He has analysed every single last clause, letter, meaning of the words used, every possible loophole in his contract to the point it's driven him to have multiple psychological breakdowns. To him there is no doubt in his mind at all that he's completely fucked by the contract he was tricked into and there's no chance in hell that you would ever be able to even assist.

- When you push and say that you want to do this for him, he's not even a little flattered at all, in fact, it bruises his ego massively that you'd have the audacity to confidently imply you could do what he's worked so hard to for 7 years.

- In instance one, he's incredibly pissed off at you for claiming you could ever undo his contract after learning about it from someone other then him, so angry he almost kills you. Leaves you alone shaking and afraid in the hall telling you not to say anything to anybody else about his deal, and to never so flagrantly exaggerate your own worth so massively again. Your prior confidence stamped down to embers.

If you are close enough of a person to him that he's confided in you about his collar however:

- He'd just chuckle, calling it cute that you thought you could do that while walking away.

- You miss the way his eye twitches.

- He'd still be incredibly angry about it, but due to not being surprised you knew of his biggest secret, he'd hide it much better.

- Continues to laugh when you insist you can do it, and would passive aggressively respond about how you should not overestimate your abilities and mind your own business essentially.

- Again, he's pissed off and his ego is bruised about it. But this time, he's hiding it behind his smile and is passive aggressive as fuck about it rather then outwardly aggressive. He won't let you know how much you've actually gotten to him even though he would have let his walls down to some extent to ever tell you that.

A/N I was actually already planning a fully written x reader fic that's not just the dot points with Angel at some point where reader saves him from his contract, so like... Maybe I'll do full fics for dealbreaking Husk and Alastor's contracts as well because I'm kind of interested in exploring a fic w them after writing this now

(I'm probably gonna say this then eat shit via the universe straight after lmfao 💀)

#hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #this was actually so cool to write thank you for requesting this one

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Text

I'm On Your Screens.

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

Vox's POV of "Get Off My Screen!"

A/N: This is the silly TV man's POV on what I had written earlier since it was mainly just how dear reader saw everything. I wanted to do this before working on the Vox x Reader requests so I could do some practice on this dude's character hahaha. Also my goodness Tumblr you are THIRSTY for this man! Aaaaah I love it anyway so keep those ideas coming people!

Vox is a busy man, dealing with the other two Vees' chaos alongside his company kept his hands full daily.

Either always irate out of his mind or even grumpy because of it.

Velvette called him again because of Valentino making a bloody mess.

Oh great, this shit AGAIN-

Upon further inspection, the moth overlord was pretty much throwing another pissy tantrum because something didn't go his way.

Something about one of his whores stepping out of line or whatever?

Vox wasn't exactly listening.

Throughout that entire fit, Vox had half a mind to tell Valentino to just suck it up.

Sometimes shit goes wayside, it is what it is.

He was already exhausted mentally and physically by the time he dragged himself back into his monitor room.

Plopping himself back down on his chair, Vox let out a tired sigh and just stared at the many screens around him.

So imagine his surprise when he saw a random screen just crackle and fizz like an old CRT booting up.

Hell had done away with those darn things years ago-

He even made sure of it!

He swiveled his chair around to look closer at the fuzzy image that had appeared.

The static filter over the picture was definitely reminicent of an older TV screen.

He could barely make out a group of figures hunched over... something?

Vox tried to travel through the screen, as he could with the many many others in the room around him-

"FUCKING-! OUCH?!"

Only for it to rebound back.

Vox didn't know whether to be confused or surprised that he managed to zap himself.

HimSELF.

Besides that, a random prompt appeared on the screen.

What kind of haunted bullshit was this?

"What's your name?"

Okay, someone had to be pulling a prank on him.

Despite being skeptical, he decided to humor this weird situation.

"Okay-? The keyboard doesn't work. How am I supposed to use this thing? Just write on the screen?"

Despite his sarcastic remark to no one in particular, yes.

That was in fact what he had to do.

Which Vox found out pretty soon, and he felt a little idiotic that it wasn't the first thing he tried.

He had to squint to kind of understand what was happening on the other side of the screen.

He'd written his name on the screen aaaaand-

Great, absolutely nothing happened.

Someone had to be fucking with him.

There wasn't even any audio so he couldn't even use that for hints.

The group he'd been watching just all of a sudden jumped up and pointed towards him.

Or at least that's what it looks like.

Could they see him?

He wasn't even sure what happened next, the group somewhat hastily moved out of his sight.

Oh whatever.

Vox was about to just forget about the weirdness of the situation if something else hadn't popped up on an adjacent screen.

A phone homepage.

What the hell was that doing on his screens?

It wasn't like there was anyone in particular he was interested enough to look through their stuff.

Ohhhh he could interact with it this time.

Dumb fucking hackers could only zap him once, HA!

The screen with the TV filter quickly shut off when he interacted with the phone menu however.

He should really check his mainframe security and firewalls after this-

It took him no time at all to rummage away and scrounge up whatever he could from the phone.

Might as well do away with the tacky wallpaper while he's at it-

"Y/N huh?"

He saw your photos as well, only becoming more and more confused with the situation.

Were you a living human???

The camera app was unresponsive to his attempts at interacting with it.

So was the recording app...

Guess he couldn't use it to spy this time.

Before long, the phone was also being interacted with.

Vox could only guess it was you.

"Oh great- yeah, just go back to using the shitty wallpaper that I switched out on PURPOSE."

It didn't take much longer before Vox noticed other nearby screens popping up with electronic screens similar to this one.

He totally switched back the wallpaper before messing with the other stuff-

It was always the same, the cameras wouldn't work and neither would the microphones.

For a technology overlord, Vox found himself slightly irritated by how limited his actions were.

wtf was he even supposed to do with this?

Once he retired for the night, he wondered if all of this would just go away come morning.

Spoiler alert: It didn't.

Though the tacky wallpaper was back again.

Hm... this could be fun.

This went on for a few days, he and you were switching the wallpapers back and forth.

It was either his face or whatever random shit you'd change it with.

Sometimes Vox would just let you have some peace before switching it back after an hour.

He could only imagine how irritated you were.

Too bad he couldn't hear or see it.

But seeing you constantly battle with him for the wallpaper priority was entertaining enough.

Vox didn't bother with any of your other files or anything else at the moment.

He didn't see the point in doing so yet anyway.

Of course that was until the notepad opened.

"I know you're in there. Stop messing with me."

He chuckled seeing you type out the message, guess the jig was up.

But he wasn't going to stop this game you both were playing just yet.

"Oh I know, you're just fun to mess with doll."

Little did Vox know that his snarky response would've been the start to an... odd companionship to say the least.

Both of you exchanged messages over the months.

Either idle talk or just conversation about anything under the sun.

If something bothered him at work, most likely he'd leave a rant on your notepad for you to find.

Similarly, if you've had a shitty day- he'd quickly know.

"You're obsessed with this Alastor guy huh?"

"No, he's just an old timey prick who keeps fucking up my stuff."

"You're obsessed."

"Fuck you. >:/"

Interacting with you ended up taking more of his free time and the other Vees would be confused why he spent so much more time in his monitor room.

Vox just brushed them off and rolled his eyes.

He wasn't attached.

He didn't actually care for you did he?

Yeah no absolutely not-

There was a point Vox did get bored enough to look into your files though.

He spent a good hour sorting through stuff while you got work done.

"You should really label your files better."

"It's not that bad."

"Really? After I spent a good while organizing and managing your shit because of some randomly named ones? A goddamn 'thank you' would've been nice."

"Random? I don't do random."

"Oh yeah? What's this one? 'Yeetus' or this one- 'Bababooey'?! Hell, this one is just keysmash!"

"Oh shut up, I still find my things."

"HOW????"

Vox proceeded to rant and bitch about it for another hour-

Sometimes when he just wanted to fuck with you, he'd steal control of the cursor.

It was purely just to spite you.

Your notepad rants afterwards kept him entertained.

He was slightly proud that he beat your wallpaper war.

Or so you dubbed it.

Now his grin was practically a permanent plaster on your devices.

Even so, when he wasn't busy Vox sometimes found himself looking over at your work.

"How is your grammar this shitty?"

"We have grammarly for that, I don't really care much."

"Grammar- what??"

Inadvertently he ended up being your spellchecker every so often.

He only realized how much help he'd been giving once you mentioned in passing that your English professor bumped up your grade.

Why?

Because your writing was just better.

Correction-

Vox's writing was better.

He wouldn't let you hear the end of it for weeks.

You knew it was a mistake telling him.

He didn't even stop his trolling there.

Once he figured out how to overload your computer's memory, it was lag central.

Then he started messing with the display and aspect ratio, making visual glitches while he pulled up random tabs or applications you needed to fight him to close.

"I'm in class you jackass! We can do this when I get home!"

"Nope, I don't think I will. >:3"

He thought he was doing you a favor giving your devices some custom flair as well.

"Are these emojis of you?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd enjoy them."

"Huh, cool."

He thought he was doing great as your companion, until you downloaded that thing.

What in Lucifer's name was it even?

Another tiny human in your desktop?

"What the fuck is that."

"My new desktop companion, do you like it?"

Vox didn't even bother replying, watching it move around and emote for a hot minute while his eye twitched.

Were you trying to piss him off?

Eventually he took his frustration out on it with the cursor to the best of his ability.

Even if it only irritated him more that it kept getting back up unharmed.

Fucking hell, if you wanted a visual desktop companion you could have just ASKED.

Even if he stayed up a few extra hours to work on it, Vox felt like it was worth it.

He was better than that stupid little companion thing you downloaded.

"Did you upgrade my desktop pet by any chance?"

"Why? Do you not like it?"

"Nah, it's actually pretty cute. Thanks."

Vox couldn't bring himself to reply to that.

He was not fucking CUTE!

It totally flew over his head that you called it a desktop "pet".

Depending on his mood, he would use the small thing to emote or just keep you entertained.

At least you could sort of see him.

Even when he couldn't see you.

However, Vox was still Vox and he couldn't help himself to a little mischief here and there.

You both met by sheer coincidence from a weird situation.

Still, the tech overlord couldn't help but be just slightly glad it happened to him.

If Vox had to actually be honest, you weren't all rainbows and sparkles.

You could be a total bitch if you wanted to.

Heh, maybe there'd be a chance he'll finally meet you down here.

Guess he'll just have to wait and see until then.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #he's a little shit #a charming little shit tho #I need to write more of this fool #Get Off My Screen Series

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chaoticace2005 · 2 months

Text

Why Hazbin characters are the animal they are:

(Because of that conversation I just had with @xxqueenofdragonsxx )

Angel (spider)

1. His family’s “web of crime”

2. A spider was the last thing he was before he died.

3. He had a weirdly heartfelt moment with a spider as a child that stayed with him to adulthood.

4. He was terrified of spiders and this was his first punishment in hell.

5. He insulted spiders by calling them “creepy fuckers”— the spider community was insulted and sought punishment.

6. He and his family’s last name was “Ragno” which literally means “spider” in Italian.

7. He’s Spider-Man. Or Spider-Gwen at least— look at his colors.

Husk (cat)

1. Fucking hated cats when he was alive

2. Hates flying when he was alive.

3. Flew in a plane in the military at some point so has flight-related trauma.

4. Cause he does that cat thing where they can’t deal with people’s bullshit.

5. Ex had a cat, their relationship was complicated.

6. Husk really hates messes. Having both feathers and fur is the ultimate torture.

7. He died tripping on a cat and then being impaled by the beak of a dead bird.

8. Died falling. Period. Cats land on their feet and birds can fly so it’s some kind of irony.

Alastor (deer)

1. He was killed because someone thought he was a deer in the forest.

2. The deer in headlights look he always makes when someone propositions him sexually

3. He was the predator chasing the prey, now his creature is the prey.

4. First thing he ever killed was a buck.

5. He really likes venison and is a cannibal. Now he has a steady supply of food. He just needs to wait to regenerate.

6. His favorite thing to say was “oh dear” so the universe made it into a pun.

7. He wasn’t shot by a person. He was shot by a serial killer deer.

Sir Pentious (snake)

1. He was a slippery little fella.

2. Was obsessed and had a ton of pet snakes.

3. Alternatively he was terrified of snakes.

4. The last person he called a “friend” called him a snake before leaving him forever.

5. Snakes are supposed to be symbols of healing, which was ironic because he couldn’t save the one person he loved most.

6. He had a lisp and was frequently harassed for sounding “snake-like” (yay ableism)

7. His name really was Sir Pentious when alive and the universe couldn’t not let the opportunity go to waste.

Valentino (moth)

1. He used to zap and kill moths for fun, putting them in peoples beds because nobody likes a moth in your bed.

2. He publicly ran a campaign saying butterflies > moths, the moths didn’t like that.

3. He was killed when a stage light “accidentally” fell on him.

4. Like a moth, he is easily distracted by bright things.

5. Choked on mothballs and died.

6. Sold powder of crushed up moths under the guise that it was cocaine. Someone found out a killed him in anger.

7. Was killed running into traffic as he was being chased by a moth.

Vox (TV)

1. Was a TV host

2. Sold crappy, overpriced TVs

3. Killed someone by smashing their head in with a TV.

4. HE was killed by his head getting smashed in by a TV.

5. His form isn’t really a TV, but he was decapitated and needed a replacement head and this was the first thing he could find.

6. Stared at screens way too long as a child.

7. Was epileptic so the universe thought it would be funny if he could use his face to induce seizures in others (the universe has a messed up sense of humor man. How about we don’t cause people to have seizures?)

#some more dumb ways to die #tw: lots of death #hazbin hotel #I had a little too much fun with this #hazbin hotel memes #stupid hazbin hotel lists #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #sir pentious #hazbin valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel crack

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 1 month

Note

can I request a Vox x reader fluff where they've both been struggling to come to terms with their feelings but when something (you can decide what) happens and the reader gets hurt really badly, he confesses

ANOOOOOOOOON!! YOU. GET ME. SO GOOD. HOW DARE YOU HIT ME UP WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES?? Literally, give this trope to me as many times as yall want. I'll find a million ways to write it. Reap the repercussions and enjoy the food you beautiful homie, you!

Star-Crossed Idiots [Vox x Reader]

Vox refused to believe it.

Velvette had been the one to call him out on his shit first. Unlike him, she had a semblance of emotional maturity that meant she was perceptive to shit that flew over his head entirely. While he didn't understand why he found himself going out of his way to spend time with you, Velvette figured it out in a matter of days. The very fact that he had kept his involvement with you a secret was suspicious in itself. Not to mention, Velvette realized before he did. When she discovered his feelings for you, she found it hilarious. And a touch pathetic.

"I mean really Vox, you have zero reason to even know them," Velvette scoffed as she sipped on the frappuccino he had used to buy her silence. Things were already messy enough with Valentino. He had no intention of the pissy moth hearing of this until whatever this was, was sorted.

"Yet you constantly check in on their phone activity, go out of your way to run into them on the streets, and now they're even working for you just because your needy ass wanted an excuse to see them on the regular," Velvette listed as Vox did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

Vox buried his face in his hands and groaned while Velvette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask them out at this point? I love you, darling, but you're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"No," Vox growled as he looked up and shot her a warning glare. "Do you have any idea how much shit we'd be in if I just started dating some random sinner? And that's only if the feelings were mutual."

He ran his hand down his screen with a huff, turning to look at Vark swimming up to the glass. While Vox had originally had the aquarium extend to the meeting rooms for a sense of looming intimidation, he'd found quite a bit of comfort in his sharks being able to follow him through the tower.

"Look, for all we know, I'm just pent up," Vox tried to reason. It sounded fake, even to his own ears, but he was in denial. There was too much bullshit he'd have to face if he really was as whipped for you as he feared. "It's been a shit couple of weeks. I probably just need a break and a good fuck and this will all be something you make fun of me about next week for ever entertaining in the first place."

Velvette shook her head, sighing as she pulled out her phone and started to scroll.

"Whatever you say."

---

You refused to believe it.

There was no way you fell for Vox of all people. For starters, you told yourself you'd never love again! Every time you'd tried, disaster followed. It didn't help that any potential match was one to be made in Hell. Granted, you knew not everyone in Hell was bad. There were a lot of sinners who you firmly believed belonged in Heaven or some sort of equivalent.

But even so... Vox was definitely not one of those people. Not that that was the important part or truly mattered. You were no saint either, you were also in Hell.

"I don't see what the big deal is toots," Angel Dust sighed as he watched you give Fat Nuggets attention to keep your hands busy through the stress. "There are worse people to have a crush on."

"There's better too," you whined. "I'd rather not have a crush at all," you muttered bitterly as your hand continued the soothing action of petting the teacup pig.

You'd originally been on the production team for one of Valentino's studios. That was how you befriended Angel Dust and why Vox scooped you out from under Valentino to work on his own set. He told you it was because he valued someone who had an ear for audio balance, but Angel said he'd only offered you the new job after the overlord walked in on the cameraman flirting with you right before.

"Why not just fuck the guy and see if it's a matter of heart or a matter of-"

You laughed as you covered Angel's mouth with one of your hands. "Okay, okay! Don't... finish that sentence. I won't let you taint poor little Fat Nuggets ears with your porn language."

Angel snickered as you pulled back your hand. "But you see my point, right?"

"I do," you sighed. "But that's... not really my style. If anything, I think it'd just hurt to see him after something like a casual fling. The idea of him wanting my body, but not me? Yeah no. I'll choose the healthier option of repressing my feelings, thank you very much."

"I'm telling ya, he's into you," Angel groaned. "I've seen the way he is with people he thinks are hot. I've seen him with Val. You're different, toots."

You smile sadly at Angel and put Fat Nuggets down on the bed. It was clear you didn't believe Angel and he was on the verge of ripping out his fur because of it. The two of you were so unbelievably oblivious it was gonna kill him again. "Thanks, Angie but... it's okay. Really, it is."

He sighed and eventually let it go. The two of you talked about other things for a while before Charlie peeked into his room to ask for your help on something. Once you were gone, he rolled over the conversation in his mind as he tried to think of ways to get the ball rolling on your love life.

Angel shook his head with a sigh and pulled out his phone. He scooped up Fat Nuggets and flopped back in his bed as the dialing sound filled the room. The line connected, and he was quick to the point.

"Hey, I know we don't really talk, but I've got an idea."

---

"Really Angie, I don't think this was necessary," You grumbled as you tugged down on the all-too-short skirt of the outfit he'd squeezed you into.

"Oh, but it was and it is," Angel grinned as he took your hand and twirled you in the entry hall to the club. You rolled your eyes and let him spin you in jest. He'd asked you to come with him to one of your old coworkers' birthday parties.

Apparently, one of the rules was to dress like you'd get hired to dance at the club. At least, that had been Angel's excuse when you questioned why he was hovering over you as he did your hair, and makeup and held up several outfits to your body that you doubted would fit.

Despite the discomfort of getting all dolled up, you were happy he'd invited you. It had been a while since you saw your old friends. That being said, it would have been more fun if you weren't tugging down your skirt every two minutes. You weren't the only one hyperaware of how much of your skin was exposed. Nor of the way the fabric hugged your frame tightly. Several of your old friends had suggested you return to the studio with a job in front of the camera instead of in the shadows of the set.

You'd been having a good time, sticking to the corner of the room with some of your old friends to watch the drinks while the rest were out on the dance floor. One of the drunker sinners of the bunch accidentally knocked over some of the drinks while she'd been telling a story about the recent cam show she did. You volunteered to go get more napkins from the bar. One of your friends came with you to reorder the ruined drinks and the two of you had nearly pushed your way through the crowd when you heard a familiar voice call your name through the noise.

Vox didn't have to fight through the crowd the way you had. The second sinners saw the glow of his screen, they were quick to move out of his path. Your friend touched your arm, pulling your attention away from the approaching overlord. They winked at you and told you they had the drink issue handled.

When you turned, you caught Vox's screen flickering from pink to his usual blue. You had never seen any color other than the "You don't get to sleep" blue light, so you assumed it was just a trick of the flashing dance lights above.

"I didn't think you'd be here," you say to break the tension. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him in casual wear, nor was it the first time you'd seen Vox since realizing you had feelings for him. Even so, your heart was beating hard just from the sight of him.

"A-Ah yeah, well," Vox stammered as the music blared through the busy room. "Velvette wanted to drop by. She said something about wanting to check the place out as a potential venue for an upcoming show."

"Just the two of you?" you ask, perking up slightly.

"It was supposed to be," Vox chuckled dryly. His grin was tired and forced as he looked to the side and scanned the room. "Valentino heard we were coming here and tagged along. I don't know why, but Velvette got really heated about it. Something about him fucking up her plans..."

"Oh," your shoulders drop. You cringe internally, wishing you could take back the bitterness in your voice. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, but the way Vox was looking at you like you were some sort of a puzzle told you everything you needed to know.

You actually loved Velevette. She was sassy and cutthroat but had a kind side to her as well. Valentino however... He'd been the source of a lot of suffering for the people you cared about. While the more obvious examples of Angel Dust returning to the hotel looking like shit came to mind, so did the times you had to comfort Vox after being yanked this way and that by the moth emotionally.

That was actually how you'd realized you'd come to care for him as deeply as you do. He'd been standing alone in one of the meeting rooms with a distant look on his face. When you found him and asked him if he was okay, he tried to play it off with his usual bravado, but couldn't. He never cried in front of you, he only vented his frustrations about Valentino and you listened. You sympathized. And eventually, you found yourself wishing you could be the one to treat him better.

Vox opened his mouth to say something, only for Valentino to slip his arm around his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere from the crowd.

"There you are baby," he purred, his fingers immediately slipping under the collar of Vox's vest. You resisted the urge to gag as Valentino took a long puff from his pipe and blew the majority of the smoke in your direction.

"I was wondering where you up and fucked off to," Valentino grinned as he leaned down to nip drunkenly at Vox's shoulder. "You left me all alone with our little fashionista, "Valentino scoffed. "She's in such a bitchy mood."

If it wasn't bad enough that Valentino was practically drooling all over Vox in front of you and pretending you weren't there, insult was only added to injury when Valentino grinned at you with sharp teeth when he called Velvette bitchy.

"Come back and unwind with me," Valentino hummed as he started to kiss up Vox's neck. "Some of my best toys are here tonight. Don't you want to play?"

If Vox had any doubt he was in Hell before, he had every reason to confirm the fact at this moment. He'd fallen out of love with Valentino, but the almost... the almost killed him. To make it worse, he was completely frozen, letting it all happen in front of you. He made no moves to stop Valentino, he made no moves to reciprocate. He simply froze.

Unable to watch any longer as Vox continued to fall for the very same game of tug-o-war he told you he was done with, you bite your lip and turn on your heel. You can't tell if you heard Vox say your name or if it was just a trick of the crowd.

"Anyone else gonna drink this?" You asked as you rejoined your friends still at the table and pointed to one of the more full glasses left on the table. When your friends who were sober enough to answer said you could go for it, you tossed it back in one shot.

You griped to one of your friends who had stayed behind to watch over those too drunk to make good choices. The two of you had been having a damn good venting session about how stupid you felt your feelings were when the entire bar swayed. Your words slurred as your body grew heavy.

One second you were sitting up, wondering why your friend looked so concerned. The next second there was a sharp pain against the temple of your forehead, followed by a heavy thunk, more pain, and darkness.

---

Vox had been desperately searching the dance floor for any sign of you. He'd torn away from Valentino and the moth hadn't bothered to follow. Vox would... handle that another time. For as much as he denied his feelings for you this morning, the second he saw the hurt look in your eyes he knew he had to tell you. There was no way he could ignore the sharp lurch in his chest at the sight of you.

He didn't know what it meant. He couldn't tell if it was just a sense of betrayal after he'd been so open with you about Valentino or if it was something more. Every time he found himself wanting to talk about his true feelings on anything, he wanted to talk to you. Every time he had a rare second alone in the middle of the night, the only touch he craved was yours. Yes, he had a history with Valentino, but he didn't actively want that. He wanted you.

He finally spotted you across the room, sitting at a table with one of the whores he'd seen at Valentino's studio and getting way too close to them for his liking. He made his way through the drunken idiots who were too far gone to notice him, keeping his eyes on you as you started swaying dangerously.

You tried to reach down for something on the table and Vox swore as you lost what little balance you had and fell over. Someone got in his way so he didn't see the impact, but somehow he heard it. Through all the noise he heard the sharp thud and the panicked swearing of the person you were with after.

Vox was suddenly shoving every idiot out of his way, ignoring their shouts as he ran into the small clearing and found you on the ground with blood seeping from your head. He was immediately on his knees, scooping you up as the sinner who'd been with you started freaking out.

The only thing Vox could hear was a high-pitched whine as he pulled you to him and tried to frantically find where you were bleeding from. Half of your head was dripping with blood and he vaguely registered your friend saying your head had hit the edge of the table.

"Just s̴̢̃ḧ̸̺u̸͇͋t̷̯͂ ̷̬̂u̶͖̓p̵̳͗!̶̳͌," Vox snapped as he whipped up and affixed the sinner with a violent glare. He didn't care that half the club was looking at him. For once, he didn't care that he'd made a scene. Logically, he knew something like this couldn't kill you, you were all already dead. But his hands were shaking violently and the buzzing in his head was getting louder because you weren't moving.

Everything around him flashed with bright blue light as he held you close and teleported out of the club without even thinking about it. The two of you reappeared in his room back at the tower and he let out a shaky breath as he placed you down on his bed.

Not knowing what to do, Vox quickly crossed the room and threw his bathroom door open as he searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He was muttering furiously as he nearly ripped the hinges off the cupboard under the sink looking for anything he could use.

Vox let out a loud, angry shout as his body kept glitching. His movements were jerky and he'd hit his head on the sink twice now. Just as he was about to have an absolute meltdown, he heard you groan from his bedroom. His head snapped up and he turned around at the sound of your voice so fast he was surprised he didn't snap his own neck.

Vox yanked a towel off of the wall and scrambled across the nylon tiles as he fell into his room with all the grace of a CEO that he clearly had. He swore, picking himself up and coming over to you as you sat up and clutched your head.

"Shit, that stuff was stronger than I thought," you groaned. "Note to self, don't just chug random alcohol at the club." you tried to laugh, only to hiss as the pain in your head doubled down due to the movement.

"You're a fucking idiot," Vox sighed as he sat down next to you and lifted the towel to your head.

You flinched at the contact, and Vox grabbed your wrist with his free hand. "Stay still," he frowned, pressing again on the wound. "You're still bleeding."

Trying not to do more damage, you stay as still as possible while he tries to stop the bleeding. The silence is heavy between the two of you before you mumble quietly.

"Sorry..."

Vox blinks, frowning down at you. "For what?"

You avoid eye contact the best you can given your current condition and fist your hands on your thighs nervously. "For acting like an idiot. You've told me about how hard it is with Valentino. I should've said or done something and not have gotten..."

"Upset?" Vox finished for you quietly. You flinched, unable to read the tone in his voice. He sighed and slowly lifted the towel from your head, before lowering it. "Why did you?"

"It's stupid," you bite your lip, hand drifting up curiously to see how bad the wound is. Before your fingers could brush against your hair, Vox's hand grabbed your wrists again.

"Try me."

You couldn't say if it was due to the pain, blood loss, or alcohol in your system, but the moment you finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, you said fuck it. Vox gasped as you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. He'd barely had a chance to process the feeling before you were already turned away from him and rambling some bullshit about how you knew he didn't feel the same.

He took your hand, ignoring the anxious nonsense flowing from your mouth, and lifted it to his lips. Your speech died on your tongue as his lips pressed against the palm of your hand.

"Do you have any idea how much you've been on my mind?" He growled softly, his lips trailing up your arm slowly as he practically worshiped your skin.

If it wasn't for the fact that your blood was still on his hands, Vox would have been so much more rough with you. He would have grabbed you and crashed his lips against yours. He would have torn the fabric that hugged your curves so tightly off of your body and shown you just how badly he'd been needing you.

Instead, he made do with tracing his claw under your chin and guiding you to face him properly. His eyes searched yours for any doubt or sign that you'd acted purely on adrenaline and not something more. When your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed, he knew. As he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, as his arms snaked down and pulled you flush against him like you'd break, as your fingers found a home in his vest he knew.

You wanted him too. You fell for him too. This wasn't a game of "do they, don't they" like the one he'd played with Valentino for so fucking long.

His breath hitched, his arms tightening around you before he slowly pulled back and laughed breathlessly.

"Does this mean we're dating?" you ask, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"God that sounds cheesy," Vox grimaced. The phrase felt so... high school bullshit. But it wasn't wrong. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He reached down, hesitating before his clawed hand gently covered yours. "But yeah... I guess it does," he smiled softer than you'd ever seen before.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #god this is probably so messy #i'll edit it later #come get your food im going to bed

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simphornies · 3 months

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A/N: The final part! This was definitely a ride. I hope you all enjoy! Who knows...Maybe I'll write an epilogue <3

Word count: 3k (3,038) Warnings: violence, reader goes kinda crazy for a little bit, nifty behavior

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Deal Breaker [ Vox x Angel!Reader ] FINALE

“Alastor!”

The voice was all too familiar. Vox opened his eyes to see your silhouette in the dust and smoke. Your hands were stretched out to your side, blocking any attack from landing on him. He didn’t want to believe it but you were really there. In front of him. He was speechless.

“Alastor stand down!” You screamed. “He’s had enough. He won’t be another voice in your broadcast. I cannot allow it.”

Alastor shrunk down to his regular form, disappointed but compliant. His ears lay flat on his head showing his discontent but it quickly faded away as soon as he saw your wings weren’t lifted. They were dragging behind you. “Y/N, my dear, your wings…” Worry laced his voice, something nobody had ever expected.

“I’m fine. I need to tend to everyone else. But first-” You turned your body to face Vox, “I need to deal with the Vees.” You looked him in the eye and Vox broke at the sight of seeing you in that state in front of him. Only four of your wings were up while two were down, golden blood covering them. Your eyes were puffy and filled with tears but you didn’t look sad. He opened his mouth to speak but the pain caught up to him. He coughed out blood and clutched the crack across his screen before powering down.

You caught him before he hit the floor and carried him in your arms. “Bring them all inside. Lucifer, we’ll fix the damages as soon as I deal with this bullshit.” He simply nodded and made the two Vees float on in while you carried Vox inside. You were gentle when you set Vox down on the couch while Lucifer dropped the other two, making them exclaim out in pain.

“Did you have to drop me on my face?” Valentino complained. Lucifer shrugged and gave him a smug look, “Whoops!” He laughed, making Valentino growl.

“Watch it, moth.” You hissed. You stood up tall and loomed over them, your wings fully spread out with the exception of two. Your heavenly glow made them squint in response. Maybe it was the adrenaline but you felt no pain. “I must applaud the audacity the two of you had.” You knelt down and grabbed their faces harshly. “To no avail, of course. But the attempt was there, though not something to take pride in.” You pushed their faces away in disgust, wiping your hands off as if they were the filthiest things you’ve ever touched. You began to pace around them with your hands behind your back. “Tell me, demons. Do you value your lives now? Do you value your power? Your status? Your money?” You asked. They didn’t respond.

Your hair and wings were covered with eyes as you flared up at them, “I asked a question.” You stabbed each of their legs with two angelic daggers, “Please. Do answer.”

“Yes.” They said in unison, breathing unevenly due to the pain.

The hotel staff felt fear watching you lose composure. It was a rare sight and nobody dared to speak up. Besides Lucifer. “Yeah you tell ‘em, bitch!” He cheered you on, making Charlie face palm at the comment.

“I suspected so.” You smiled sweetly at them, the same smile you give every sinner you’ve met. But this smile was a facade for you felt pure unbridled rage at the fact that they thought they could bring this tower down with meager attempts. You pulled the daggers out, making them scream.

“How about we make a deal?” You offered, hand held out knowing they wouldn’t even be able to shake it.

“What do you want?” Velvette asked, voice shaking.

“Nothing much. I just want you both to never fuck with us again and never even think about doing so. And…” You trailed off.

“And?” Valentino’s voice was shaky too. Angel Dust found pleasure at the sight, sneaking in a photo.

“And your souls, of course!” You happily exclaimed, folding your hands together. Their eyes widened before glaring at you.

“And what if we say no?” Velvette contested.

“Well…That certainly is an option. Of course, you can say no.” You hummed, pacing around them once again. “But know that once you do…The power, the status, the money, your businesses…Well. They will simply no longer exist!” You smiled.

“Wh-what?” Valentino’s voice was small. He was terrified.

“You fucking bitch you can’t do that!” Velvette screamed and tried to jump at you. You flicked her away effortlessly with your wing, sending her back down with Valentino.

“Ah but I can, my sweet sinner!” You smiled at her, “The King of Hell can make that entire building disappear with a snap of a finger! Isn’t that right, Luci?”

Lucifer nodded and stood with pride, his hands on his hips, “Sure can! Effortless too.” He grinned.

“And without this deal in place, Alastor will be free to do whatever his morbid little heart desires with you two!” You spin around happily, “Why, that would make a fantastic broadcast, don’t you think so, Alastor?”

“It would be one of my best ones!” He grinned, his aura darkening.

“Fine! Fine.” Velvette gave up, “We’ll make the fucking deal.”

“Wonderful choice!” You clapped, “Nifty, dear! Come here please.”

Nifty came running to your side, laughing maniacally.

“Oh fuck why is she here?” Valentino tried his best to squirm away from the little demon child, fearing his life.

“Because! You’ll be giving her your souls.” You gave them an innocent look.

“WHAT?” Everyone, with the exclusion of Lucifer, Alastor and Nifty, screamed in unison.

“Who would own you better than this one here? She hardly cares for such things and I do believe that it would be such a wonderful gift for her. She’s done so much for the hotel and I think I should award her with something more…hellish!” You placed your hands on Nifty’s shoulder, “Do you want to own your own souls, Nifty?”

She nodded excitedly, “Ready!” She cackled. “I want my own souls.”

Velvette and Valentino were sweating in fear, a little bit terrified of the tiny one-eyed demon. “Ah but of course, if you try to do anything to her. Well…Let’s just say you’ll get what you give!” You pushed Nifty closer. With a snap of your fingers a written contract appeared in front of the two Vees and they were allowed to hold the pen that came with it.

“Sign right there on the line stating that your soul is now ours combined. There’s quite a couple of fine prints in there though I don’t think you’d need to read it considering you will never harm this hotel, its staff and whoever they’re involved with ever again.”

Velvette and Valentino signed their souls away, their scleras turning black. Lucifer released them from their binds and you shook their hands. “Wonderful doing business with you two!” Your smile quickly dropped to a glare. You wiped your hands as soon as you let go of them. “Now go home.”

Velvette and Valentino wasted no time leaving the hotel, almost tripping over the mess they created on their way out. For a moment, it was silent. Alastor stood by, impressed at your devilish behavior. Angel Dust was relishing in the fact that you kicked Valentino’s ass, showing off the photo he took to Husk. Nifty just went straight to sweeping. Charlie and Vaggie ran to you, giving you a tight but careful hug.

“Y/N…I thought we lost you.” Charlie sobbed. You hugged the two back, your healthy wings wrapping around them.

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me. I wouldn’t have made it out okay without you guys.” You smiled. You pulled away and wiped the tears in Charlie’s eyes, “It’s okay, Charlie. I’ll be fine.”

Lucifer claps his hands together, “So…” He smiles, “Should we get to fixing or…”

You laughed at him, “Yes. I’ll catch up with everyone. I have one more person to deal with.” You looked at Vox, your heart heavy. His screen was off, sparks still flying out of his screen. “Before you all leave though, do we still have Sir Pentious’ tools and manuals?”

Vox powered back up. He winced as his body still remembered the pain from the earlier fight. He looked around the unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed. He sat up slowly and as he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. His screen was fixed, not up to his standards, but he didn’t have the crack across his screen anymore. His screen was completely replaced. His ears finally caught on to the sounds of construction outside.

You opened the door to your room with some books on how to fix screens. Upon seeing Vox awake, you dropped them and ran to his side. “Vox! You’re awake. How’s your screen? Does it feel okay? Despite my lack of knowledge on fixing technology, I did my absolute best to fix the crack. The wiring-”

Vox cut your rumbling off by pulling you into a tight hug. He held you with fear that he might never get this chance again. He was afraid that if he let go, that’ll be the last he’ll ever see of you. It wasn’t until he felt you hug him back that he relaxed and sobbed into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Was all he could muster in between his cries.

You let him ride his emotions out, not letting go until he calmed down and stopped glitching. When he did you pulled away from him. “Vox…”

“I know! I lied. I lied about a lot and…And I let my pride stop me from coming sooner.” He started, “Even if you don’t believe me, please give me a second chance and your trust when I say that I am so fucking sorry. You opened my eyes a lot and I’m sorry.” He looked down with shame, unable to look you in the eye.

“Vox. I know. I get it.” You sat on the bed next to him, “I’ll admit that it pained me when I found out you lied about Alastor. I was shattered. I was stuck between choosing my dear friend and, well, you. If I’m being completely honest, trusting you again after that…that elaborate and evil plan is difficult.”

He sighed, guilt engulfing him.

“But, if there’s one thing I learned here that I didn’t in Heaven is that everybody deserves a second chance.” You said softly. He finally looked up at you. You weren’t looking at him but instead you looked at the group picture that everyone took together when you first arrived. “I’m going to need an explanation, a detailed one and then…” You turned to face him, “And then we’ll make that deal.”

He looked at you dumbfounded. He didn’t understand why you’d give him another chance let alone reconsider the thing that started this all to begin with. “Y/N, I don’t care for that deal anymore. I want to make it up to you. For everything.”

“Let’s change that first one then.” You phased in the original contract you two had created when you first met and ripped the unsigned contract in half. “Promise me you won’t ever lie to me again and in return, I shall do the same.” You held out your hand to which he gladly shook.

“You have my word.” The deal was sealed as he shook your glowing hand. “Now…Let’s start from the beginning.”

It took a while for him to cover everything from the initial plan to how it ended up like this. He covered the first half quickly but slowed down at a certain point.

“And then when we came back from the hotel and you stayed in my building with me…” He trailed off. “Well I…”

You tilted your head to the side, “You…?”

“I came to the realization that I truly fell in love with you.” He confessed. Your face flushed in response.

“Me?” You gasped out, “No. You couldn’t have.” You awkwardly laughed, “What is there to love about me?”

“Look at your friends, Y/N! They truly admire you and trust you. You’re a being worthy of trust and love. You protected this hotel and left your home behind for sinners.” He began, “Your heart is a blessing. You’ve saved them outside of battle. You became their deal breaker, freeing them from their chains. Even when you’re hurt, you always do the right thing. You’re forgiving. Your beauty goes past your brain and your looks. Your entirety, your soul. It’s all beautiful. And anyone that can’t be changed by that is fucking stupid.”

You blush at his flattery, your heart pounding out of your chest. But he didn’t stop.

“And me? I didn’t fall in love with you for your power or for how pretty you look. Even if it did kickstart this whole thing,” He laughed, “You’re kind. You find joy in everything even in the worst places. You’re strong and resilient and your heart is in the right place. The look in your eyes when you saved me, it…it broke me in a way that I’ve never felt. I don’t want you to ever feel that pain again. And I don’t want somebody to try and pull the same shit I did to you. Allow me by your side, forever and always.” He held your hand, giving you a soft kiss on your knuckles, “And let me be yours as I want you to be mine. No bullshit attached.”

“Vox…” You smiled sweetly, tears in your eyes. “You speak such nonsense at times.” You laughed.

“It’s true, angel. I don’t know if it’s some magic of yours but, I’ll leave it all behind. You are my pride.”

“Vox. I adore you. I do. I fell in love with you with your acts of service, your gift giving. You truly spoiled me. As much as I absolutely want to kiss you right now, words are nothing but words. Actions are what truly matters.” You responded.

“I’ll do anything Y/N! I’ll lea-Did you just say you’d kiss me right now?” He paused, his screen warming up.

“Yes! I absolutely do. But you just…You hurt me Vox. You absolutely shattered me.” You got up and flared your wings at him. At that moment, he saw your injured wings. They were wrapped up with sticks holding them in one position to heal. “I thought you were going to die from all of that. And to think!” You started to cry in front of him, “To think my last thought of you would have been betrayal! Do you understand how badly that hurt me? You could have died and I would have been left wondering if you truly meant everything. If you truly did love me! And when I couldn’t reach you with this watch, I thought you were dead!” You were hysterical.

Vox got up, ignoring his pain and cupped your face in his hands. “I can’t tell you how much I want to stab myself right now seeing you cry over me.” He wiped your tears away and you’ve never seen such sadness in his eyes before.

You kissed Vox in the heat of the moment, your arms wrapping around him. He shut his eyes and kissed you back and for once it wasn’t filled with lust. He felt different. He felt love. Your crying ceased and you just held him close, not wanting to part with him.

“Help me trust you again. And then you’ll be mine as I’ll be yours, forever and always.” You smiled, wiping the remnants of your tears from the corners of your eyes away, “But can you please tell me how to properly fix you. I fear that my lack of skill with wiring affected you.”

He laughed and hugged you. “Is that really something you’re worried about right now?”

“Yes! I don’t know how much my heart can take if you catch on fire! And lay back down! You’re in no condition to be up at this moment.” You forced him back down, basically tucking him in. You held his hand in yours, this time you gave him a kiss on his knuckles.

Charlie came in to check in on you two and excitedly gasped at the sight of you two making up. She hugged you two a bit too tightly, making Vox groan in pain. “Oops! Sorry! I’m just so glad you two made up!” She exclaimed.

“Oh…Vox I may have forgotten one thing…” You trail off.

“What?”

“Well! Since the two other Vees kinda maybe sort of ruined our new building a little bit, I proposed to Y/N that you stay here at the hotel to make up for it!” She grinned.

Vox blinked and stared at her, and then to you, and back at her. “With…Alastor?”

As if on cue, Alastor teleported next to Vox on the bed. “Yes!” He grinned, a bit too menacingly for the situation. He screamed in response and almost fell off the bed. Alastor played a laugh track as soon as he heard the thump on the floor.

“Alastor!” You said with a scolding tone.

“Ah don’t fret, Y/N! I’m just having a little bit of fun!” He flipped on his stomach and started to kick his legs in the air, “I do just revel in watching others suffer! Haha!”

“Even if you’re not trying to get into Heaven, I think having you here will be a good start to becoming a better person!” Charlie smiled, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

Vox sighs, “Alright alright, I guess I’ll give this shit a shot for real this time.” He got up and rubbed the spot he landed on, “But seriously do not put me next to Alastor!”

You took his hand in yours, “You need not worry about that, Vox. You’ll be staying with me.” You smiled. “Oh and I own Val and Velvette’s souls now.” Vox didn’t know whether he should be shocked about staying in your room or the fact that his overlord friends lost so badly that they no longer own their own souls.

“...What.”

Taglist!: @emekeneme @ghostdoodlen @chewbrry @dawko-fanpage @lofasofabread @hxzbinwrites @rapunzelbro @elsihiaweee @blackrose8425 @dickmastersworld @lofasofabread @rosiethevoxobesser @themetalbabygirl @markster666 @riskyraiker @fadingflowers-world (it still won't let me tag the two of you)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vees #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vox #slow burn #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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grimalkinmessor · 3 months

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Okay but Reigen's ability to lie and change masks at will means that he can be literally anyone Mob needs him to be at any given time. And he often is.

I was thinking about this because I rewatched the break-up episode and Reigen's words had always caught me a little off guard when he said all that stupid shit to Mob, because—and yes this is the point I suppose—he's never usually that harsh with Mob. Because the rod isn't what Mob needs, and Reigen knows it, and he usually tries to be the best shishou he can be whilst still lying to his disciple about everything else :'D So I considered Reigen insulting Mob and going after his friends to be largely out of character for him!

But, I realized that the series focuses so much on Mob's inner struggle that we don't get to see a lot of Reigen's. And for Reigen, who has had Mob all to himself for close to three years, the sudden influx of people taking Mob's time and attention would've been highly alarming and disquieting to him. Because for literal years, Reigen was the village raising the child.

Before the series started, Mob and Ritsu were still distant if loving. His parents don't seem to make much of an impact on is life either. And before joining the BIC, Mob had no friends either. He just kind of,,,existed. The only person he could've considered a friend was Reigen. Reigen gives him advice and life lessons like a parent, jokes around and heckles him like a friend, and scolds him when he's being dumb like a mentor. Reigen didn't raise Mob (he does still have parents for that and Reigen has only known him three years out of fourteen) but before canon he did seem to have a great deal of control and say-so over Mob's life.

And yes, again this is bad. It's unhealthy at best. But Reigen's options in the beginning were either fire Mob and send him away so that wouldn't happen, or keep him by his side and encourage him to make friends as they went along and Mob learned more control and social skills from him. The latter might've even been Reigen's original plan once he realized he actually likes Mob as opposed to him just being a random kid. But then, of course :) Reigen gets attached :)) Too attached, even :)))

Enough so that when the time comes and Mob actually DOES start to make friends, Reigen feels deeply threatened. Fondness has blossomed out quite nicely into codependence, and now Reigen—who is also deeply, incredibly lonely—cannot imagine a life without Mob in it anymore. He doesn't like the thought of Mob drifting away. Outgrowing him. So he opens his mouth and puts his foot directly inside, trying to alienate Mob from his friends and secure his spot as top friend dog once again. (Honestly as if there was any question 🙄).

Thankfully, Mob nips that shit in the bud IMMEDIATELY. Because again, he's been with Reigen for the past three years, and other than some of the other bullshit bout spiritual powers, Reigen has been largely very wise and helpful when giving life advice. It was very likely his OWN teachings and words about being wary of being manipulated and conned that helped Mob recognize it that fast.

So Mob leaves, and Reigen...crumbles.

Damn near instantly.

He tries to convince himself that he doesn't need Mob, that he's fine without him and that he never even cared about him in the first place—but later we see that the idea of Mob leaving him for good makes him actually, physically nauseous. That moment in the alleyway, with the moths around the lamp as my witness, was a moment of death and rebirth within Reigen's psyche. Again with the moths there that might be obvious lmao. The singular moth dying there might even be a reference to the fact that only one of Reigen and Mob's relationship problems have been addressed (and somewhat?? solved?? at least in the way that Reigen has acknowledged the need for change in himself on this front).

Idk, I just think it's interesting :3 He was alone in his friendship with Mob for a very long time, and I think he panicked more than made any sort of cold calculated move to be an asshole. He and Mob are similar in that way; they both found someone who needed and understood them, Mob with his powers and Reigen with his tricks and acts, both of them using their abilities for the other's benefit. I love the break-up arc so much, it's so much fun to think about 💖

#mobrei #reimob #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #mob #kageyama shigeo #breakup arc

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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 3 days

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Metal Moths: Bigby Wolf x Reader

Oh babe, I feel it. My messages are always open if you need to talk to someone, I'm always available to help out anyone I can.

Contains: Self-Depreciation, depressing thoughts

Something was off.

It didn’t hit him until he was gnawing on yet another cigarette bud that was burnt down to the filter did it suddenly click in his mind. It had been bugging him for the past few days but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t unpaid bills or reports he had neglected to file, nothing like that of the sort. It felt… social? That kind of thing always stumped Bigby as he wasn’t really the social type, always avoiding the Remembrance Day bullshit and shying away from whatever events King Cole puts on to raise even more money for Fabletown.

He dropped his pen when he suddenly realized what exactly was missing, back straightening up quickly, his knees smacking against his desk that was too big for his comically small office that almost caused the piles of papers and folders filled to the brim to scatter across the semi-clean floors.

When was the last time he saw you?

Regret pinched at a nerve between his shoulders as he tossed the cigarette bud into the nearby trash. He ran a hand through his hair and scratched at his neck, leaning back in his chair as he ran through what he could in his mind of the past few days. He knows he saw you this week, that was for sure. He hadn’t seen much of you the past few days thanks to some fucked up case that practically pushed him down the rabbit hole, but he knew you had called the Business Office only for Bufkin to answer and take your message. You were asking for Bigby to come to your apartment, but he couldn’t make it.

He really wanted to. Honestly, he did. He would rather take the brunt of another silver bullet than do anything to hurt you, but unfortunately, this slipped through the cracks of his fingers like fine sand.

He stood up, wincing when a few folders slipped from their place on his desk and scattered the contents across the floor. He’d deal with it later.

He slipped out of his office door and trekked through the oddly empty halls. He strained his ears and sniffed at the stale air of the Woodlands, scoffing at the horrible air fresheners Snow had installed to raise the appeal of the damn place. It didn’t do much, the barely there floral scent did nothing to cover the decades of cigarettes, blood, sweat and tears these hallowed halls carried. It only distracted his nose from catching your scent to see if you were even home, the voice in the back of his head scolded him, asking him why he didn’t just call you from the old rotary he still had in his office.

But he caught your scent when he turned down the hall that contained your apartment.

Something was wrong.

Your scent wasn’t the usual ambrosia to his nose, the one thing he would always somehow find in the crowded city of Manhattan like a needle in a haystack. No. It wasn’t sweet like caramel or warm like coffee, but… dull? He didn’t know how to describe it, but he knew how it made him feel.

And he felt bad. He felt something bad looming over him and he felt something bad bubbling in the deepest pits of his guts.

He slowly approached your apartment and strained his ears. No sound came from inside, but he could hear the faintness of your heart beating away deep inside. It was slow, kept to an odd rhythm of neither rest nor active.

He knocked, knuckles lightly rapping at your chamber door. The key to your apartment was on his keyring, but he didn’t want to use it. He wanted you to get up, he wanted you to walk over to the door and open it, he wanted to see you upright and standing before his eyes to quell the worry that made the beast inside of him start to prickle with life. There was silence on the other end of the door yet again besides your heart beating, but it picked up upon him knocking. He even heard you take a quick breath in.

He knocked again, the worry about to bubble over into slight panic as he sniffed again. He couldn’t smell any blood whether it would be dry or fresh, but he could smell something else. Something salty. Were you crying?

He heard the sheets rustle, you had to have been tucked into your bed, curled in the sheets. His heart yearned for you to open the damn door so he can take care of you.

“(Y/n),” Bigby called. No answer. The silence was deafening to him as he heard his blood roaring through his ears. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention, he felt the beast clawing at his spine for control he would never relinquish. He knocked again, a little louder this time. “(Y/n), are you in there?”

He heard your feet meet the floor inside, the covers being thrown away from your person as the bed creaked under your shifting weight. He took a step away from the door, eyes pinned on the doorknob as he heard the wooden floorboards of your apartment creaking as you slowly padded over. Were you… stumbling? It sounded as though you were, steps uneven and a little heavy for your usual gait.

Ironically, he waited for you at the door like a dog.

And when you opened the door finally with a heavy click of the lock turning, Bigby felt the panic snuff out inside of him when he saw that you were actually standing before him.

You looked like you had been dragged through hell and then some. Dark circles around your eyes, your irises were barely focusing on him and your under eyes were so puffy from crying. How long have you been crying for? Your cheeks were tacky with dried tear tracks and your lips were a little swollen from worrying at them with your teeth, your bottom lip even had a split in it from where you bit a little too hard. You were wrapped up in clothes that needed a good wash, the collar of the baggy sweater you were wearing was soaked from you probably wiping your tears away not too long ago.

Seeing you like this made the knife twist even harder in his gut.

“Hey Bigby,” your voice was so soft and so hoarse, it almost didn’t belong to you.

Your words were trembling, vocal chords strained from crying for so long. How long had you been like this? How long had he failed to realize something was wrong?

“Can I… come in?” Bigby found himself hesitating.

He had to. If he didn’t he didn’t know what would’ve come out of his mouth, and he’s a walking trap for accidents to happen as a lot of people would put it.

It was your turn to hesitate. You glanced tiredly over your shoulder back into your pitch black apartment before stepping away, giving him just enough room to allow him to squeeze past you before you closed the door behind him.

“Mind the mess,” you murmured as you sank down onto your couch.

Your curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the evening sun and the rows of neon lights that were slowly turning on for the night. There was the scent of something stale and bitter lingering in the air, it had Bigby wincing just a bit. It wasn’t pungent like cigarettes or food left out a little too long, but it was something else he couldn’t quite place.

He eyed you warily, stepping close to you as you stared mindlessly at some little spot on your rug that overall needed to be vacuumed. Something was haunting your mind and Bigby would be damned if you kept suffering alone in silence. You never let him be affected by this kind of stuff since you both had started seeing each other, and he’d rather be shot up with silver than let you pull a Bigby move.

“(Y/n),” he crooned softly, “what happened?” You didn’t answer at first, you just sat on the edge of your couch with your head in your hands and rubbed at your exhausted face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come see-”

“It’s not your fault,” you pulled away to look up at him. “You’re the sheriff, you’re busy. I shouldn’t have been calling and bothering you, especially with that fucked up case that got slapped on your desk.”

“(Y/n), sweetheart, you’re not a bother to me.” He walked in front of you and crouched down, taking your soft hands in his calloused ones. He ran the pads of his thumbs over your knuckles and made direct eye contact with you. Fuck, seeing you like this, it really made him want to tell Snow and Cole to fuck off for a few days so he can stay here and help you. “You’re never a bother to me.”

“I just,” you hesitated as you pulled your hands away from his warm ones, “I feel like I’m… too much,” your gaze fell to your lap.

“Too much?”

Bigby placed one hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing little patterns at the bend. Your skin was a little cold, he could feel it through the heat that radiated off of him constantly.

“I just- I don’t know. I… I feel awful that I called and I’m sorry that I did. It’s not fair to you. I really didn’t help with that and you-”

“Let me stop you right there.” His voice never rose in volume, it never got harsh. It was deep and rumbling like rolling thunder in the distance. He squeezed your knee to get you to look back up into his big brown eyes. “I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. I know I suck with words and all, but I really do care.” He could see your eyes getting all watery in the corners. “You’re never gonna be too much for me to love you.”

And with that, the tears finally shed as you collapsed into Bigby’s awaiting arms.

#the wolf among us #twau #bigby wolf #bigby x reader #bigby wolf x reader

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sanctus-ingenium · 1 year

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tag list & about

Mez:

tagged/setting_mez - art and asks related to the setting of WHERE HATE RULES, a work-in-progress novel about giant mechanical beasts of the mezian catholic church, the dragons they fight, and the crews who worship them.

Inver:

tagged/setting_inver - art relating to the setting of MOTH VIPER FOAL (book trilogy set in the Victorian era) and THE LORD OF LIES (modern era), stories from the north-east Atlantic peninsula of Inver, situated on the edge of the Otherworld. These stories tie in together, dealing with the fallout from a centuries-old conflict which has led to the old monarchy tearing itself apart in the mid 1800s. In the modern era, a faery veteran from the revolution returns to make trouble for humanity.

tagged/mvf - posts, asks, updates relevant to MOTH VIPER FOAL, the book trilogy inclusive of SAID THE BLACK HORSE, THE VIPER MOURNED, and the (unnamed) third book.

tagged/lolcomic - the LORD OF LIES webcomic pages (unfinished but still fun, only did 15 of them)

Other:

tagged/info_asks - useful information, brushsets, and miniature art tutorials. feel free to ask about any part of my process, it's not a trade secret lol

tagged/brushes - posts about what brushes I use

tagged/setting_thera - posts about the cool bug world setting :)

Sideblog:

i have a largely random sketch dump blog @ranticore that you can follow if you want to see random bullshit i draw and also more in depth worldbuilding and lore posts.

About me:

I am an amateur illustrator from Ireland and my work deals with themes of Irish folklore, horses, faery stories, crimes of the catholic church, and what lies beyond the water.

#hi. new stuff for pinned post #x #i consolidated my modern & ancient inver tags into just the one inver tag for everything

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princess-of-the-corner · 7 months

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ML: Wish Fufillment

You know, at this point, my friend’s joke AU is looking really appealing right now …

Basically, someone from the “real world” or someone from a really messed up future *cough* S5 *cough* manages to steal the Miraculous, and makes a wish. The entire show jumps back to Origins, and everything seems like it’s the same, except there’s a new person Quinn, someone who works at the school. Who are they? Where did they come from? What’s even her job? The whole show starts to proceed as it did, only during the first battle with Stoneheart, another Hero shows up - the Holder of the Raven Miraculous, Omen, able to see the future, and who’s main goals, besides stopping Hawk Moth, are to make Ladybug and Chat Noir have common sense and therapy.

The basic Idea is that Omen is someone who’s seen the show/is from the future, and who goes back in time to try and fix it. Now, due to the complicated nature of time travel, wishes, and “dramatic nonsense” she can’t actually just tell the Heroes that Hawk Moth is Gabriel, or reveal Ladybug and Chat’s identities, or any of the other really big pieces of information that would cut through at least half the idiocy, but she can be really, really, REALLY obvious.

They only real notes we have on Quin are:

- Full name is Quinn Conners

- their costume looks like a fantasy plague doctor

- they are somewhere between nineteen and twenty-five

- everything they wear has feather motifs. Everything.

- Kwami is called Sibill (spelling not final)

- weapon is a cane sword, sheath can be used as a baton

- first thing They did upon jumping to the past was steal Adrien, Felix and Kagami’s Amoks. Second thing was start an Audrey smear campaign

- their abilities are Clairvoyant- see the future, with sub-ability Consequence- see what is the most likely outcome of an action or choice, Skip- (this had a really long winded explanation, but to summarize, it’s basically really short range teleportation) and final, Shared Sight (name not final)- they can share their visions with others. the idea was that Omen shares her “visions” of the future, aka, “Canon”, and the characters reacting to the insane shit they’ll apparently do if they

Quinn’s personality: Aggressively Supportive, and Not Even Trying For Subtley

“Get in you little shits, time to talk about Appropriate Responses To Trauma!”

*yoinks Alya’s phone* “Hey, how about we discuss Journalistic Ethics, Fact Checking, and Public Endangerment?"

"Here’s a crazy idea, how would you deal with a magic coma?”

Interrupts Hawk Moth’s big speech to call him out as a coward and fashion disaster.

Makes no attempt to even pretend she doesn’t know anyone’s identity, only thing she doesn’t do is straight up use civilian names.

keeps sending Chloe’s dad divorce lawyer business cards.

Prints out a pamphlet titled “So You’re Dad Might Be A Supervillain….” And sends hundreds of copies to the Agreste Mansion

"Are you Ladybug and/or Chat Noir’s [family]?“ "By blood, law, spirit, choice, or circumstance? In order - no, no, kind of, yes, and because no one else will.”

*kicking down Fu’s door* “YOU AIN’T EXEMPT FROM THERAPY, FUCKER!!”

“Hawk Moth can meet me behind Tom and Sabine’s Bakery for an asswhooping.”

“So, that Identity rule is partial bullshit, here is my 65 page slide-show-”

Anytime any of the kids have a sports meet/club/competition/project/big emotional task - “You are valid as shit.”

GOD it’s so tempting to have the self-insert just fix things

#submission

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leeeeeeeeech · 7 months

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Desperate Measures Pt 2

"Say my name." he repeated, his words carrying a weight of anticipation. I take a deep breath, trying to find my resolve.

"I don't know your name." I say, much more meek than I meant. Fear and uncertainty clung to my words like tar. There was a brief pause, an eerie stillness settled in the room, broken only by the hum of the television.

A dark chuckle emerged from the depths of the screen, the man's face contorting into a rather unsettling grin. It was as if he was amused by my fear, drawing it in like a moth to a flame.

"Yeah you do," he responded, his gravelly voice taking on a playful tone. It was clear that he was toying with me, reveling in my confusion.

"Here, let me give ya a visual toots."

Suddenly, the screen began to stretch and warp, distorting reality itself. The man's fingers emerged from within the screen, long and gnarled like the branches of a twisted tree. As they extended toward me, insects crawled and skittered across the screen, tumbling onto the carpet in a chaotic dance.

Panic surged through me, and I stumbled backward, desperate to put distance between myself and this nightmarish intrusion. The room crackled with static, and the man's voice echoed once more.

"What are these?" he inquired, his eyes fixed on the insects that now littered the floor. Despite my fear, I found myself leaning forward, attempting to identify the tiny creatures. After a few moments of scrutiny, recognition took hold.

"They're beetles," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

The man's grin widened, revealing sharp, predatory teeth. "That's right," he purred, his eyes gleaming with a sinister delight. "Now, what's this?"

I watch in horror as the man contorts in a glass cup, green liquid pouring into it in rapid succession.

"Juice?" I blurted out, feeling more and more bewildered by the minute.

The man in the glass laughed. "Bingo!" he exclaimed, his eyes glittering with glee.

"Now," He transformed back into himself, holding the glass of green juice. Before I could interject he snatched a beetle from the carpet.

"Put them together!" He excitedly dipped the beetle into the juice, and threw it into his mouth. I cringed at the audible crunch.

"Beetlejuice?" His eyes snapped open, green sparks bounced off his irises.

"Yessss?" He responded, looking somehow more malevolent. I look around the room, waiting for something to happen. Beetlejuice sighs, directing my attention back to him.

"Ya gotta say it two more times toots."

"Oh," I falter, my adrenaline slowing down enough for me to think for a moment.

"If I say your name again, will you leave me alone?" I attempt to strike a deal with this... ghost? demon? I wasn't really sure what he was honestly.

Beetlejuice leaned in close, his grin stretching from ear to ear, his breath like a foul gust of wind. "Sure thing, sweet thing. But you gotta say it three times in a row, real fast, and then I'm outta here like a bat outta hell." He winked, or rather, blinked at me.

I hesitated, contemplating the consequences of complying with this bizarre request. But the relentless grin on his face was more than enough to convince me.

"Fine, Beetlejuice," I said, my voice trembling. "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

The room seemed to warp and twist, colors swirling like a vortex. Beetlejuice's cackling laughter filled the air, growing louder and more maniacal with each repetition of his name.

And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Beetlejuice vanished, leaving me standing there, shaken and bewildered.

I rub my eyes, deciding to just go to sleep and deal with whatever bullshit just happened in the morning. I quietly pad to my room, and flop onto my bed. I turn over, sliding my hands underneath the pillow, ready to fall into the inky void of dreamland. As my hands slide, they're met with something extremely cold. I recoil, jumping at the freezing temperature.

I roll, flicking on my lamp to see what the issue was. As my eyes flicked back to my bed, I screamed. There, in all his disgusting glory, was Beetlejuice. He had a smirk on his face as he struck a seductive pose, jutting his hip up into the air. His moldy suit rubbing off on my comforter. I grimace, crossing my arms at the ghost.

"You said you would leave me alone."

He smiles, taking his fingers and squishing them into his cheeks in a faux-cute manner.

"I lied."

#beetlejuice x reader #my writing #this is officially becoming a series

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