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#vox sweep
mr-malumm · 2 months
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Yall see the results of that Twitter poll 🥰🥰🥰?????
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g1ngerbeer · 2 days
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clearing out my to-post list heres some qpp content
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faineant-girl · 1 year
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PUT ERE UP SEE
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mymanymerrymuses · 26 days
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I have spent my day doing perfectly innocent chores, and all the while Vox has been in a mood that is the exact opposite of innocent, even though we are quite far away from sunday
So you know. If anyone's muses want to rail a television man, he's down XD
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teamfortresstwo · 2 months
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Cmon ,,,,, don’t play with my heart like this ,,,,
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nmakii · 2 months
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GETTING CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT… LIPSTICK ON YOUR FACE
— alastor + lucifer + vox getting caught with lipstick stains all over them…
— generally gn!reader. guys can wear lipstick too smh
hehe i got a new lip tint (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) maybe alastor’s part is a little self-projected
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— alastor
alastor himself isn’t one for physical affection. in fact, the thought itself makes him feel dirty. someone else’s skin against his… eugh…
though, when it came to you, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself; hands clawing and playing with your hair, wrapping his arms around your neck, pinching your cute cheeks, holding your hand… it’s almost as if he’d double-die without you near!
and the only thing he’d enjoy more than that would be having his affection reciprocated; interlocking your arm with his, a surprise hug from behind, a kiss on the cheek, they are all more than appreciated! especially the thing about kissing…
a kiss from you is simply just exhilarating. the suddenness yet sweetness of it, it’s truly the purest form of love, regardless of if it’s familial, romantic, or platonic— it’s the purest expression of your love for another person.
so, just imagine alastor’s reaction to your new lipstick, strawberry red to give your lips a glossy color, yet still light enough to appear natural. the pretty hue of red complimenting your face features perfectly by giving it the color it needs as to not appear pale.
absolutely gorgeous. so confusing how a simple amount of color could make you look as if you were an angel from heaven itself. you quite literally took his breath away from just applying a new lipstick…
at some point, alastor had reached some sort of limit when he finally caved into his inner desires, bringing you to a secluded place in the hotel, his hands moving to your hips and hair.
he couldn’t wait any longer to place his lips on your’s, your lipstick smearing all over his thin lips. kissing him from his cheeks to his jawline, leaving light pink stains all over his skin.
he groaned at the feeling of wet lipstick all over his face, and at the same time reveled in the ways you are telling everyone that the only one who could see the radio demon in such a needy and doe-like state would be you; he’d be yours to fool around with, and yours to do however you’d see fit. just as you are his— no one else’s. the smeared lipstick on the side of your lips should send that as a statement enough to whatever lowlife hooligan would even attempt to sweep you off your feet.
when the two of you had returned, it was a strange sight to say the least… alastor’s face and jaw covered with pink lips, and you with your lipstick smudged and smeared off your lips, instead all over you neck.
“well, uh… you two look like ‘ya had lot’sa fun…” angel said monotonously, awkwardly trying to keep up conversation. “ohh, most certainly!” alastor grinned, his transatlantic accent popping through the radio static.
he knows he could’ve wiped it off… he has a handkerchief in his back pocket, he could’ve easily saved himself that awkward conversation.
but, he didn’t.
could you blame him? he wants all of hell to know that both you and him off-limits for good.
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— lucifer
when many imagine the king of hell, it’s hard to think he’d be a social piranha. the same case had gone for you.
who knew lucifer was still as pure of heart as he was during his time in heaven? and who knew he’d fall for someone so easily after the sudden disappearance of his wife?
when he saw you, it was practically love at first sight! your big eyes, your shiny hair, and those big pretty lips of yours that he just wanted to kiss so badly…
he listened carefully as charlie introduced you to him, trying to remember every detail about you and every feature on your face, stuttering over his words once it was time to speak for himself.
and somehow, despite his meekness towards you and your awkwardness whenever he was around, you two ended up in a relationship— with the help of vaggie and charlie’s meddling in pushing you two together.
the two of you loved each other, of course… but it was always hard to express. the only way lucifer knew how to show his love was through his presence and gifts. he wasn’t hell’s greatest kisser, but he tries.
and, today— it was your 5 month anniversary… quite a long time, the hotel’s been good so far, no major threats other than one of cherri bomb’s occasional explosions. and because of how long it’s been, you decided to do something a little special… put on some relatively expensive clothes and make-up your face a little bit.
when lucifer saw you all dolled up, he was honestly a little stunned. lips as red as an apple, hair as soft as silk, the words were stuck in his mouth. “w- er- wow..! i’m not dressed up or anything— agh, this is awkward..” lucifer muttered. “hey, it’s ok… this was a surprise for you, y’know?” you said, comforting him slightly.
“you look… stunning today” he smiled, carefully putting down his anniversary present for you on his work desk, still wrapped in a red ribbon. he made his way to you, hands making their way to your cheeks to softly cup them as he gently leaned into you for a kiss.
he released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding as you kissed his face all over, as if healing the wounds of his past with his present. his banishment into hell, lilith’s abandonment, they all didn’t matter anymore, you are the present and the future.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug as he kissed your forehead, the residual lipstick from his lips smeared onto you.
lucifer laughed awkwardly before using his finger to carefully rub off the pink stains on your forehead. “haha… c’mon, i got a dinner reservation in the lust ring tonight…” he laughed, interlocking his arm with yours.
“don’t you wanna take off that lipstick on your face first?” you raised an eyebrow at him. “i mean… i dont minddd… so, it’s only if you wanna take if off” his eyes wandered, his cheeks growing flustered “hmm… nah. i want everyone to know you belong to me now.” you grinned mischievously.
and when the two of you walked out of the hotel lobby, charlie went to wish you a safe trip and happy anniversary before she noticed the stains on her dad’s face. “err… dad..? you gotta a little something there…” charlie muttered as she pointed all over his face. “ah..? yeah, i know” he laughed it off, proudly showing off to hell how hopelessly devoted he is to you.
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— vox
vox was a busy man. from having many public appearances, to coming up with new ideas for voxtek, to putting out valentino’s temper tantrums, he barely had the time for romance.
barely. he loved you, truly. he keeps you dear to his heart, no matter how busy he’d be, vox would still make time for you late at night.
everyone had known you, why wouldn’t they? you’re the partner of one of the most influential overlords in hell, that’s a feat that is amazing to accomplish, dating vox in itself has made you into a sort of local celebrity; causing you to be invited to many galas, parties, and occasional raves.
and tonight happened to be the night of one of those parties. zestial had invited you to a formal dinner party, an all star guest list filled by many of the goetic princes, various overlords in hell, and other local hellborns such as verosika mayday.
“please, voxxx? just this once, it’s only like 3 hours!” you grumble as your apply a coat of ruby red over your lips, checking your appearance in the bathroom mirror. “i can’t.. i have a 5:00 with val and velvette, then after that, a board meeting about new gadgets to release…” vox groaned, already pissed about the day ahead.
“fine then, your loss.” you pouted, rolling your eyes as you left the bathroom and into the bedroom. “holy shit…” vox sighed out. “you look… really good, my love.” he walked over to you, his hands moving to your body, outlining the clothes’ stitching as he recognized it to be the one he had custom-made for you.
your hands rested on vox’s shoulders, forcibly making him lean over a bit before leaving various kiss stains all over his screen.
vox visibly tensed as his screen started glowing a bright teal, showing his clear embarrassment as pink smudges fogged his screen.
his breath heaved as his hands moved all around your body, desperate to find some kind of relief to his pent-up stress.
ending your kiss attack all too soon on his lips, you pulled away, your lips slightly pale now as you grinned at him. “spend the day looking like that and i’ll give you more after work” you winked, taking your belongings and leaving out the door, leaving a flustered vox in your bedroom, covered with lipstick stains.
“vox… the fuck is going on with your face?” velvette snarled. “it looks as if you got fucking mauled by a bear pretending to be a woman.” she yelled, her british accent making her trip over some consonants.
vox sighed, hearing valentino mutter some sort of dirty comparison of vox to a prostitute. “instead of focusing on me, why don’t you put your efforts into our agenda today?” vox frowned, his tone clearly saying that he’s holding himself back from releasing a flood of curses onto the two…
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.
synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.
"Cher!"
Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.
Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.
"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.
Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.
Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.
"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.
"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."
"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.
Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.
"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."
“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."
Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.
"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.
He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.
"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.
He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.
The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.
"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."
Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."
"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.
You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."
"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.
"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."
"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.
"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.
"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"
"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.
"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.
"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."
"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.
So this is what it's about?
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.
Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.
"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.
His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.
"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."
Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.
“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”
A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.
Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.
But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.
"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.
"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."
With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.
Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.
"Then you shall suffer the consequences."
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Infernal Shadows 03
Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.
Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it. Carmilla and Velvet feud because I also live for that. I also really favor Zestial for some reason as a calm mediator.
Song for this chapter: Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61
A/N: Thank you all so much for your positive feedback & feedback in general on the last two posts!! I really didn’t think this would catch so much attention but I’m so glad people like it. For some reason Tumblr’s being weird and doesn’t want to let me tag certain people, I don’t know why but if anyone does please let me know because I really don’t like that ;/ But I hope you all enjoy this chapter!! Please note that some blogs cannot be tagged, so I recommend checking this post and to check your settings to make sure I can tag you! If anything I can always just message you when the next chapter comes out, and yes I am making this series longer :) it’ll also be posted on my Wattpad soon!
Word count: 3890
Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @iaaeav @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @pretty-puppy-stuffies @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @lunalixya
Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part two. // Part four.
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Engaging with guests throughout the night had become an exhausting endeavor, and a part of you yearned for the solace of your absence. Nevertheless, you maintained the façade, acknowledging every sinner whose smile dripped with crimson mischief. Having greeted each guest, you discreetly slipped into a shadowed corner, your shadows enveloping your figure quickly, seamlessly disappearing from the expansive room in mere seconds and emerging into an intimate gazebo outside, meticulously arranged beneath the sweeping branches of a weeping willow, you marveled at its unique ambiance. Unlike the earthly counterparts that stood white, the willow in your realm bore a deep crimson hue, its leaves adorned with a subtle, luminous sheen. A gentle smile graced your lips as you leaned against the sturdy black iron railing, delicately cradling a piece of the weeping willow between your fingertips. In the distance, the grand mansion hosting the gala loomed, its opulence contrasting with the simplicity of your secluded retreat. Despite the awareness of etiquette dictating against leaving guests unattended, the need for a mental break led you to this haven, a safe space for you. Reflecting, you acknowledged a desire for better preparation and rehearsal with the shadows, realizing the repetitiveness of conversations with the familiar sinners had rendered the night somewhat lackluster. It almost felt like you had come out of hiding for nothing. Quite the disappointment.
You sigh, massaging your temples, the lace fabric on your fingertips only slightly soothing the growing headache. However, not too far behind, you hear the sound of soft grass. You straighten up and turn around, seeing none other than your long time friend Zestial, who just smiled, nodding at you.
“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial inquired, standing by your side with his back against the railing. You resumed your original position, taking a moment to appreciate his father. Mentally noting how much of your grandfather Zestial reminded you of, you kept the sentiment unspoken.
Tonight, Zestial adorned himself in an outfit resonant with his time period, preserving his distinctive color scheme. A dark, meticulously tailored coat with lime green accents draped over his slender frame, capturing the essence of his demonic class. The cloak, adorned with lime green spider webs, unveiled a mesmerizing display when unfurled—his lime green eyes radiating, the upper pair embellished with vivid red irises. Instead of the customary big top hat, Zestial selected a smaller, more appropriate hat with a touch of flair. Dark as the shadows you command, it featured a light grey patch at the front and was finished with a grey-colored skull and a lime green and red-striped feather on the right side, adding a distinctive touch that mirrored his nature.
“Why art thou out here all alone on this crimson night?” Zestial repeated, shifting toward you a bit. Yet you resumed your original position, savoring the quiet ambiance before finally answering him. “What shall we discourse upon during our repast this eventide?” Zestial asked. Though his wording occasionally posed a challenge for others, having grown up in a family of eloquent speakers, you easily deciphered his intent. Something he truly appreciated. Though he was learning to speak more ‘modern’, or as modern as he could be.
“Quite unsure of that. Everything is changing, and I fear I might be left behind,” you expressed bluntly. Zestial sighed in response, a mix of understanding and concern evident in his lime green eyes.
“Madame, thou art timeless,” Zestial said with a bow, his cup proofing into smoke. “I pray thee, vex not thyself o’er so trivial a matter,” he added, his words resonating with both reassurance and genuine care.
You nodded, handing him a card. His surprised expression upon finding two cards instead of one didn’t escape you. “What manner of thing is this?” Zestial inquired, prompting you to summon a shadow for yourself, knowing he would find his own means back to the Gala.
“Carmilla. I am no fool to the both of you,” you said, amusement coloring your words as Zestial shook his head.
“Thou dost astonish me on every occasion,” Zestial remarked, standing by your side as you walked into your portal. Two seats vanished, leaving four empty seats at your table and six occupied.
In your study, you floated scripts in front of you, checking off names on the table list for tonight. With a few overlords left to choose from, Alastor and Charlotte secured seats based on trust and connections. Vox, Zestial, and Carmilla, an unspoken but potent couple, promised intrigue. Reconsidering Velvet for her potential devolution, you weighed each decision with strategic acumen.
Valentino, the Von Eldritch twins, and other weaker options were dismissed, maintaining a careful balance of power and influence. As you weigh the option of inviting Rosie to the gathering, her unpredictable nature adds a layer of excitement and potential surprise to the upcoming discussions. However, this unpredictability could also introduce challenges, creating an air of uncertainty around her contributions. Hopefully with Alastor around, she’d feel more inclined to behave. You check her name off the list.
In considering Stolas, the Goetia prince, his personal issues and tarnished reputation pose significant hurdles. Divorcing from his wife, sleeping with an imp for fun, as well as losing control of his daughter on Earth, it all seemed too risky to get involved with. While his wisdom and influence could contribute positively, the shadows of his struggles may complicate the dynamics, stirring potential conflicts and requiring delicate handling. Someone might get out of line with a comment towards him. His power was incredibly useful, but not worth the risk.
Husk’s transformation from a former overlord to a bartender signals a decline in power and status. While his laid-back demeanor might bring a sense of unpredictability, his diminished influence raises questions about the relevance of his involvement in the current political landscape of hell. Though he was your friend, you needed to keep your reputation pristine.
As the you contemplate the overlords assets, a mix of excitement, caution, and uncertainty envelops the decision-making process. Each overlord’s potential positive contributions are balanced by the looming negatives.
“Madame?” One of your shadows materialized, prompting a nod for them to proceed. “There seems to be some trouble in the lobby between the guests. What would you like us to do?” it inquired. A grimace crossed your face, hoping the disturbance wouldn’t mar your night. “Let me handle it,” you declared, snapping your fingers, causing the script to vanish. The shadow nodded, blending back into a wall for you to step through.
Upon reappearing, you assumed the form of a taller shadow. The room surrounded by guests revealed Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla standing in the middle. Zestial, seemingly composed, stood close behind Carmilla, observing the situation. Carmilla appeared visibly upset, with Velvet in proximity, a pointed finger dropping as soon as she noticed your arrival. Alastor maintained his usual wide smile, though it bordered on the eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The scene unfolded, presenting a potential challenge to the serene atmosphere you aimed to maintain during the gala.
Everyone seemed to stop, slowly turning toward you to see your face. Except there was no expression, just the large shadow you had taken form of. In seconds the shadow disappeared, leaving you in the fog, the expression on your face anything but calm.
"Madame I-" Velvet began, but her words were halted by the sight of your lace glove, your hand rising to silence her. Approaching the overlords, you spoke with an air of cold authority.
"My quarters. Now," you commanded, and with a snap of your fingers, smoke enveloped your spot as you vanished. Shadows materialized around the overlords, guiding them to your quarters, leaving the stunned guests in the lobby.
"Well, that was interesting," Valentino remarked.
In your study, the overlords found you seated in your tall, black chair. Its ebony surface featured intricate carvings of black glass, elegant swirls, and patterns tailored to your essence, creating an atmosphere of undeniable authority and refinement.
"I hope you all had fun acting like children," you chided sternly. The overlords lined up, forming a unified front. Leaning against the right side of your chair, you crossed your legs, elbow on the armrest, pinching the bridge of your nose with a sigh. Annoyance laced your words as you questioned, "What did you feel the need to argue about now?" Before Velvet, Vox, and Carmilla could respond simultaneously, you halted them. "One at a time. I'd assume you all handle this like adults, if you even can." The tension in the room hung thick as the overlords awaited their turn to address your inquiry.
“She wants me at her table Vaggie! Me!” Charlotte said excitedly. Vagatha just smiled.
“That’s good! Now you can tell them about the hotel, and maybe someone will be interested.” Vagatha said, and Charlotte just nodded.
“Maybe they-“ Charlotte stopped, observing as people began to crowd around the center of the lobby. Charlotte and Vagatha stood from their spots at the bar to walk toward the center, where the overlords stood. Velvet and Vox were next to each other, while Carmilla, Alastor and Zestial were across. Carmilla and Velvet were face to face. “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked as Vagatha and her pushed their way through the crowds of people.
“Come on, Carmilla, always the mood-killer,” Velvet scoffed, a disrespectful tone tainting her words. Carmilla shot her a stern look, ready to assert her authority.
“Watch that tongue, Velvet. I will not let your insolence slide,” Carmilla retorted, attempting to rein in the escalating tension.
Vox, ever the smooth talker, chimed in, “Ladies, ladies, let’s not turn this into a drama fest. We’re all here for a reason.” Vox said, sternly giving a tight lipped smile to Velvet, silently telling her to keep her shit together.
Carmilla shot a glare at Velvet, who replied with a defiant smirk, “Drama or not, Vox, some of us aren’t here for the ballroom charm.”
Alastor, drawn to the brewing chaos, couldn’t resist adding his flair, “Well, well, a bit of spice never hurt a party, does it?”
Carmilla, unfazed by the chaos, spoke with a calm authority, “Velvet, your insolence is unnecessary. This is not a playground; it’s a gathering of overlords. Act accordingly.”
Velvet, seemingly undeterred, shot back with a dismissive laugh, “Poor Grandma, always trying to play the responsible one. Maybe loosen up a bit? Have a drink will you?”
Vox, ever the smooth talker, added with a slick comment, “Perhaps we can focus on the matters at hand. Save the theatrics for later ladies.”
Alastor, intrigued by the unfolding drama, simply grinned, “Oh the picture box has spoken! Quite intriguing.” The room continued to buzz with tension as each overlord, except Rosie, added their own flavor to the brewing turmoil. As the tension thickened, Vox, with a sly grin, couldn't resist adding his own slick comment to the mix.
"Ah, Alastor, the radio days were quaint, but it seems you're a bit outdated. Television is the future, perhaps you should tune in sometime," he quipped with a wink, the words delivered with a calculated smoothness. The room momentarily hung in a charged silence before the verbal sparring resumed, adding another layer to the complex interplay of personalities at the gala.
With Vox's comment about Alastor being outdated sinking in, the radio demon responded with a sly grin, sharp teeth on display, his eyes displays dials, as the rooms lights began to deepen, "Ah, Vox, your television endeavors are impressive, but remember, I'm not just audible; I'm unforgettable. A little screen time won't change that," he retorted, “This face was made for radio.” He said with a grin, tilting his head to the side, a sharp snap in his neck, his words carrying a mix of amusement and confidence. The verbal exchange between the two overlords added another layer to the already charged atmosphere, each comment becoming a piece in the intricate puzzle of conflicts and egos at the gala.
“See what you did grandma, now you’ve got the two of them fighting.” Velvet said, pointing a finger into Carmella’s chest. She scoffed, shoving her away.
“Don’t you dare get disrespectful on me you brat.” Carmilla said, beginning to heat up with anger.
That's when Madame stepped in, reappearing in the form of a taller shadow, casting a lengthened silhouette in the room brimming with guests. Vox, Velvet, Alastor, and Carmilla found themselves at the center of the unfolding tableau, and Zestial, seemingly composed, lingered just behind Carmilla, quietly observing the escalating drama. Carmilla's visage betrayed a hint of distress, her pointed finger lowering as she registered your reappearance. Alastor, with his trademark grin, bordered on eerie, revealing a glimpse of his gums. The unfolding scene disrupted the serene atmosphere you had meticulously aimed to maintain during the gala, presenting an unexpected challenge.
A hush fell over the room as everyone turned their gaze toward you, anticipating your reaction. However, your face remained expressionless, concealed within the depths of the large shadow you had taken form of. In mere seconds, the shadow dissipated, leaving you in a misty veil. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a storm brewed, ready to challenge the delicate balance of the evening.
Now, here you all were, sitting in the study after Carmilla had explained the situation.
“Madame, with all due respect,” Carmilla spoke, looking down. “I truly do not believe Velvet is mature enough to be at our table tonight.” Carmilla said.
“Are you questioning my judgment?” You asked sharply, to which Carmilla stiffened quickly, shaking her head then.
”No Madame, I would never-“
“Then do not say foolish things.” You said. Sighing, you shut your eyes, feeling the weight of the situation. Tonight sensitive information would be revealed and Carmilla did have some point here. Velvet clearly could not hold her tongue.
”Vox, control your associate please, or you both will be cut from the dinner tonight.” You said finally, to which he nodded nervously.
“Of course Madame.” He said, nodding to you.
“I wasn’t finished.” You said, looking to Alastor.
“I want none of this technology talk either.” You spoke, staring at Alastor who just smiled with lidded eyes. You knew he was very much upset, but you had forbidden anyone to fight in your home, anyone but you of course. “You all will act like mature adults wether you like it or not. I am not your guardian, I should not be having this conversation with overlords who should know better.” You said, standing. ”Now, all of you, out.” You said, snapping your fingers. Quickly the shadows began to move, ushering everyone out of your study. Everyone except Carmilla. “Not you.” You said to her, Zestial nodding to you and her as he stepped out, giving you both privacy.
“Madame, I didn’t mean what I said-“ Carmilla said quickly. You waved her off, straightening yourself out.
“Nonsense Carmilla, I know you meant well.” You said with a stoic expression. You sit back down, crossing your legs and snapping your fingers to form a chair in front of your desk, ushering her to sit. “I wanted to speak to you about your weapons.” You stated. At this her eyes went wide, before dropping again.
“Oh, very well then. What would you like to know?” She asked. You grinned, before standing again.
“Well, how much would I need to give you for you to make me a personal bayonet?” You asked. She went silent for a moment, before answering.
“Nothing at all Madame.” She said, standing to look at you. “May I ask what for?” She questioned. You shook your head.
“No, just to have on display. I want a new one, the old one I have is quite out of style for me.” You replied. She just nodded, before you waved to her, sitting back down and summoning a script again. “You may go now, and please, do not argue with children.” You commented. She just smiled and nodded, leaving you to your own vices.
It was half-past eleven, five minutes till the midnight bells chime. Everyone in the lobby was beginning to get excited for the entertainment you had planned for the night. Oh, you knew you would not disappoint.
“Madame would like everyone to accompany her on a journey tonight. She has sent me to retrieve you all. She would like to formally welcome you to tonight’s entertainment.” The large shadow said, standing from the topic of the stairs. Behind it was a large portal. It stepped backwards, into the portal, and nodded for the guests to start coming through.
The custom-built coliseum stands as a testament to Madame's vision, a grand fusion of opulence and dark elegance. The circular structure boasts towering columns, but instead of conventional pillars, thick chains rise, intricately linked and serving as both ornamental decor and structural support. The arches, molded in black, curve gracefully around the circumference, evoking a Victorian Gothic aesthetic that permeates the entire venue.
Two larger-than-life statues of Madame herself flank the entrance, capturing her regal poise and adding a touch of imposing authority. The statues serve not only as decorative elements but as a representation of the gala's hostess, a constant presence overseeing the proceedings, she is always watching, all seeing, perfection.
The overall ambiance is one of grandeur and mystery, with the black molding on the arches casting shadows that play into the darker undertones. Every intricate detail, from the chains to the statues, contributes to the unique Victorian Gothic feel of the coliseum, matching Madame’s home perfectly, matching her perfectly. The venue, finally being unveiled to the guests, now welcomes them who are treated to an appetizer course, surrounded by the striking architecture and entertained within the darkly enchanting atmosphere Madame has meticulously crafted.
Numerous shadows, dark and formless, line the entrance walls, extending silent greetings to the arriving guests. Their presence adds an air of mystique and intrigue as they blend seamlessly with the Gothic architecture. As attendees make their way into the coliseum, these shadowy figures create an ethereal welcome, embodying the unique atmosphere of Madame's custom-built venue.
At a separate entrance reserved for the handpicked members of Madame's esteemed dinner table, a solitary shadow stands guard. This entrance, reserved for a select few, hints at the exclusivity and importance of those who will partake in the upcoming dinner. The shadowy sentinels serve not only as silent greeters but also as guardians of the event's secrets, casting an enigmatic allure over the gala.
A singular shadows escorts Charlotte, Alastor, and the rest of the overlords to the exclusive section, leading them to an elevator to bring them to the best seats in the coliseum. The elevator’s interior is a striking display of elegance, with white and black checkered flooring lending a timeless touch. The walls, enveloped in darkness, exude an air of mystery, while black, smokey glass engravings on the ceiling add intricate detailing that dances in the ambient light. Each number on the elevator, indicating the ascending levels, glows a vibrant red, creating a vivid contrast against the monochrome palette.
“Oh I’m so excited! What do you think we’re gonna see? Gladiators? Sinners fight? Oh actually I hope not, I don’t want people to die.” Charlotte said to Alastor. Carmilla just chuckled at her antics while Zestial eyed her with curiosity. Where did Alastor find such a girl and why the princess of all people?
The elevator stops at the top floor, revealing the opening in the middle, which was surprisingly covered with water.
“What is Madame playing at?” Carmilla questioned as the overlords sat in a row at the top. From there they could see everything and everyone.
“I am quite uncertain, yet my anticipation is stirred nonetheless.” Zestial said. The lights around began to dim, and shadows began to pour glasses of water in front of all the guests. Down in the middle of the coliseum was the tallest shadow, the one that seemed to be Madame’s favorite, since it always spoke for her.
“Greetings all. It is Madame’s pleasure to invite you all to the special entertainment tonight. Madame has put together some of hell’s finest performers for your entertainment tonight. I would like to present, preforming here tonight, The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra preforming Ludwig van Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61.” The shadow said with a bow, before it vanished just as quick as it came. Then, other shadows appeared, but this time they were different. They were people, performers, with clear outlined silhouettes, faces and expressions, even clothes.
“Hey, Al?” Charlotte asked, leaning over in her seat to Alastor. He let out a ‘hm?’ In response.
“Does Madame own those souls down there?” Charlotte whispered, but before Alastor could answer, a shadow had already cut in.
“Yes. All the shadows here, even yours, Madame owns.” The shadow said quietly, filling Charlotte’s glass cup with water. Charlotte nervously, perked up, but said nothing as she shadow carried on with it’s catering.
The ethereal notes of the music filled the air as the performance unfolded. Around the musicians stood ballet dancers, their movements a delicate poetry in motion. Clad in all black, the performers created a stark contrast to the dancers, who emerged with an otherworldly grace akin to figures rising from the depths of water. The dancers moved with an angelic fluidity, their forms intertwining seamlessly with the haunting melody, creating a mesmerizing tableau that captivated the audience. The visual symphony of black-clad musicians and the whisky-hued ballet dancers painted a scene of enchantment and mystery within the grand coliseum. Even down to the dancers, this had Madame written all over it.
Velvet's keen eye captured the essence of the dancers' ethereal movements on paper. With each stroke of her sketch, she depicted the dancers as if emerging from a watery abyss, the fog enveloping their feet creating an illusion of water flowing upward. The intricate details on her sketch paper brought to life the dancers' graceful forms, their figures seemingly intertwined with the rising mist, evoking the enchantment of a waterspout captured in a moment of sublime artistry. Velvet's artistic interpretation added a layer of depth to the performance, transforming the ephemeral dance into a tangible and captivating visual narrative.
Water had begun to swirl, the dancers moving around it, the water getting taller and taller, similar to the way it had when you had first made your entrance at the beginning of the Gala. Now, it was water, and from Charlotte’s seat, she had struggled to make out what was going on. She turned to Alastor to see him holding a pair of opera glasses in his hand. Without you having to ask, he tapped the armrest of her seat. Charlotte turned to the side to see a pair tucked neatly against the front of the armrest. She grabbed them quickly, before looking through them and at the waterspout now forming in the middle. Her jaw flew open, as well as the loud screech of Alastor’s track playing. Vox had short circuited, and Carmilla gasped loudly. Velvet stood silent, but there was evident confusion on her face, while Zestial sunk into his seat, conflicting emotions flowing through him.
“Madame- she’s-“ Charlotte stuttered, and Alastor nodded, swallowing thickly.
“With an exorcist. I know.”
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signedkoko · 4 months
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Hi! I’ve absolutely loved all of your headcannons-
I was wondering if I could request a: vox/mammon x reader where when they (the reader) gets frightened they literally jump into vox/mammons arms?
Could the characters be separate? Idk how to request it’s sorta my first time doing it
Mammon | Vox [Romantic]
In which when frightened, you opt to get as close to your significant other as possible.
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Both of you are easily frightened people
You are way easier to scare, but still, you really would think Mammon could take a jumpscare
If something ever sneaks up on the two of you, you aren't just jumping into his arms; no, he's sweeping you off your feet and turning tail
Probably makes it worse for you
Because yeah, you, the small demon are scared, but a sin? The prince of greed? Scared? Then it must be really bad
There is no scenario where he would leave you behind; even with a real threat, he opts to run even if he could overtake them
Any risk to your life is too great a risk; he can hire whoever the fuck he wants to handle the people later
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Vox has seen it all
Snuff films, brought the knife down on someone himself, terrified hellborns and sinners into his whim
Not scared of anything, maybe something niche, but hes way more likely to hate and be angry at something than to be scared of it
He is the fight to your flight
The first time someone jumps at you two, he already has guards shredding them into a pulp
More surprising is that he has to register that you are literally clinging to him, and hes rushing to support you with his arms so you dont slide down him
He laughs at you
Sorry not sorry! But that is absolutely hilarious to him, he will tease and prod at you over and over until you threaten to let go
Then he shuts up real quick, because no, he likes what this does for his ego
" Tch. Don't worry, angel; we all know you need the big and powerful Vox to protect you. "
Just wait until you find out what hes scared of and he jumps so high that his head slams into the four-metre cieling
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Author's Note - A small little smth smth, which was nice to cleanse my palette,,, sorry for the delay and thank you for requesting!!
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hollisiguess · 3 months
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im bored so y’all are getting some hazbin hcs
Alastor is aroace and agender but he does not know it he has no clue what ANY of those words mean
Rosie actually knows that Alastor is all of those but to fuck with him she doesn’t tell him however she will from time to time call him one of those (for example when she says she knows Alastor is an ace in the hole)
Alastor and Rosie are in a qpr!
Velvette and Vox are besties they will gossip about everyone and everything
Velvette is a non-binary lesbian who uses she/her
EVERYONE in hell assume that the vees are a polycule and for the chaos they never correct anyone
Velvette barely tolerates Valentino and would like to beat the shit out of him at any given time
Ok I have to restrain myself with Velvette so last one even though Vox has beef with Alastor to everyone’s shock she hangs out with him every once and a while over some tea
Lute is aroace but she and Adam are « dating » bc people kept asking Lute out would never take no for an answer and it was making her uncomfortable
Despite everything Adam does care for Lute and is a good friend towards her hence why he agreed to the fake dating plan
Vaggie before getting her wings back would get HORRIBLE phantom pain from them and whenever Charlie would ask what was up she would always dodge the questions and Charlie wanting to respect her gfs boundaries wouldn’t push to much
Vaggies love language is acts of service and Charlie’s is physical touch
Charlie ADORES Vaggies wings she thinks they make her gf even more gorgeous then she already is
Vaggie is actually insecure of her wings as they remind her of a past she’s rather forget but Charlie fawning over them does make her like her wings a bit more
If Charlie is cold Vaggie will use her wings to make her warmer
After the battle against the exorcist Vaggie went back to thank Carmilla for her help and the two got to talking and ended bonding now they meet weekly at Carmillas to practice battle together (the both enjoy it greatly) and sometimes it leads to Vaggie staying for dinner
Carmilla Carmine is essentially Vaggies mom/mentor
Vaggie bonded with Carmillas daughters and they see eachother as sisters
Charlie will sometimes head over to cannibal town to give Rosie a visit and she now calls Rosie Auntie all the time
Vaggie brought Charlie to meet Carmilla and Charlie brought Vaggie to meet Rosie (both were super nervous to meet each others respective mom/aunt figure worried they wouldn’t approve)
Husk and Cherri used to hate eachother but after Angel forced them to hang out they grew to like eachother in a I hate u and hope u die/affectionate type of way
Angel does Cherris hair and I will not elaborate
Angel can’t cook for shit and almost set the hotel on fire many times (he’s now banned from the kitchen)
Vaggie however is a great chef!
Husk taught all the members of the hotel who didn’t already know how to play poker, poker
The hotel guests now have game night which is usually the entire cast struggling while Alastor, Husk and Vaggie sweep and have a rivalry between themselves the others are trying tho!
Alastor also taught the residents chess
Nifty eats the pieces
Im not elaborating on that last one
Vaggie and Angel actually like one another (PLATONICALLY) even considering one another one of their closest friends but neither would ever admit it out loud
Alright now that that's said Angel and Vaggie have mini cooking lessons in secret (WITHOUT ANY FIRE for safety reasons ofc) so Angel can make food for his friends
Lucifer and Vaggie actually bonded a lot especially given both are fallen angels
When Lucifer found out why Vaggie was cast out and how Vaggie had to physically restrain him from (somehow don’t question how he'd even be able to get to heaven to do it) beating the shit out of Lute
Shickingly Lucifer, nifty and Husk are friends and hang out
in fact Lucifer knew Husk before the hotel and had already grown fond of him
Sir Pentious and Charlie are besties
Charlie was the first person who Sir Pentious actually told he liked Cherri (the others still knew but like he actually told Charlie)
Sir Pentious makes Alastor babysit the egg bois after the outing he had with them a while back
Sir Pentious does like Emily but she kinda makes him sad as she reminds him so much of Charlie and he cant see her anymore given she's currently in hell
Razzle was always super attached to Charlie but Dazzle wierdly enough got super attached to Vaggie making her even angrier with Lute when she killed him
Imma end the hcs here cause this is already a shit tone lol
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spitdrunken · 4 months
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Vox x Reader Relationship Headcanons
This post contains SPOILERS in the sense that it is based off of the version of Vox as presented in episode 2. None of the actual plot points featured within are discussed. notes: background vox x valentino / polyamory (reader only dates vox), extremely unhealthy relationships, stalking, manipulation, hypnosis, power imbalance. kidnapping + physical abuse mention (neither done by vox)
To catch the eye of a demon as powerful as Vox is not an ideal situation. While he could be considered more levelheaded than your average demon, and certainly is when compared to his associates, he still has things that rile him up like no other. No, he doesn’t have a whole string of sexual partners to use and abuse like Valentino does, but that makes the weight of his gaze all the more crushing when it does fall upon someone.
Once you’ve got his interest, it’s practically impossible to slip away from him. He’s got vantage points all across the Pride Ring, being able to slip in and out of its many scattered screens with ease. While the usual tracking Vox Media subjects its customers to is already an invasion of privacy, yours would be on a whole other level.
With how inescapable his company is amongst Sinner demons, it’s more than likely you’ve at least got some kind of device he’d be able to peer into. As soon as your phone is being plugged into a port, he’d be skimming through your messages and search history. Though your face-to-face meetings might have been minimal or non-existent at this point, he would already know far more about you than most of your friends. …You should really clear out your search history more often. But, hey, he’s not unhappy about it! There’s no traces of his presence as soon as he’s done.
Vox cares a great deal about his reputation and image. Not only because he’s the very face of a high-earning brand, but it is also simply the kind of person he is. Whereas someone like Valentino might have gone right ahead and shot any possible partner in the head, Vox is much more careful than that. What would people think, if he simply went around and started electrocuting a bunch of unknowns to death? No, that’s just not his way of doing things whatsoever.
Even besides that, there’s also much more satisfaction in it, to him, to convince you to leave them and join him, of your own accord. Vox has always been the brain behind all operations, the meticulous and thoughtful one, the one who got investors on board and appeared in interviews. In other words, he’s become quite good with words, and can easily come off as charming whenever he so wishes. That is exactly the way he will present himself to you, at least at first: a demon unlike other demons, practically a gentleman.
You wouldn’t have known him from his early days, the time where he still made mistakes, and nobody knew his name. When he invites you over for dinner (through an email that you’re convinced is fake spam, the first couple of times you receive it), he wants to appear nothing but infallible and powerful to you. You, who is only familiar with him through screens, as a flawless news presenter, gameshow host, and much more. A smile would never leave his screen, and he is constantly courteous.
He’s got a couple of expensive gifts at the ready as well, ones that hail from his own company. Perhaps it’s the newest iteration in his own line of phones, or a brand-new kind of security system. He’ll wave off any kind of dismissal of his gift, telling to just take it, you don’t even know how many of those he has lying around! Trust him. (In fact, they are modified to grant him even more easy access into your life. A constant stream of information directed at him, with Vox never even having to enter your device anymore.)
In a place like the Pride Ring in Hell, existence is demeaning at best, and utterly miserable at worst, for the average demon. Vox is more than aware of this and, at first, doesn’t even try his absolute best to sweep you off your feet. The power and the safety net someone such as himself would provide would be more than enough for most people. For the average demon, time spent by his side would be a vast improvement, and no one can deny that.
And, in this case, he is most likely interested in someone with far less power than him: you. Whether actively aware of it or not, and if he was, he’d never admit it, a part of Vox desires to be with someone from whom affection comes more easily. And that is… Not Valentino. Not that he’d ever separate from him, mind you, you’d simply be the antithesis to him. If you aren’t, he’ll make you something closer to that.
One of the largest drawbacks that immediately becomes noticeable, is the political target spending time around Vox makes you. Whether he purposefully makes the two of you appear in Hell’s largest tabloid, or only goes someplace where the two of you are sure to be spotted, you’ll surely become a demon worthy of kidnapping after this. It is exactly this, and the fear that comes along with it, that Vox would weaponize against you.
Wouldn’t it be much better, and safer, to stay in one of the company’s buildings? You’re bound to get kidnapped anywhere else, you know. He’s just looking out for you! Really though, he’d never let something like that happened to you. Not only because such an occurence would cause his reputation to take a great hit, but also because he cares! The praises he heaps on top of you are never outright lies, though some are perhaps exaggerated. He wouldn’t spend so much time on a demon he wasn’t genuinely interested in.
Vox, to the vast majority of people, would come on too strong, and too fast. The kind of attention that comes from someone who hasn’t been denied anything in a long time. At the same time, underneath his collected demeanor, seen in his stalking and meticulous collection of information, there is something that could be seen as a glimmer of desperation.
One might stop and think that, if he truly were as capable and faultless as he makes himself out to be, why would he go through all of this trouble? Wouldn’t simply being himself, or something rather close to it, be enough? This is truly where the heart of the issue, his deeply-hidden insecurity, shines through. Besides just the way the thought of being rejected by you upsets him, as well as he tries to hide it, he can’t simply back out, now that he’s spent so much time around you. He’d never live it down.
If, for some reason, ‘diplomacy’ and his usual wooing doesn’t work… He’s an Overlord for a reason. He still has plenty of tricks left up his sleeve. He can manipulate any digital image he wants, including video, without ever touching editing software. Vox can show you the people closest to you saying outright brutal things about you, with their exact mannerisms and voice. All data gathered through the various devices of his he owns, then capable of creating replicas. In a limited way, he can bend reality to his will.
If even that doesn’t work, he has his powers of hypnosis as a last resort. In this case, he doesn’t like having to use them, would have preferred the satisfaction over getting you to fawn over him all on your own… But it’s just so much easier to plant a little trigger inside your brain. For him to snap his fingers, and have you become more agreeable. Your thoughts growing that tiniest bit hazier, your head the slightest bit heavier.
All you have to do is look into his eyes, and take a deep breath… That’s better, isn’t it? What were you even getting so upset about before, huh? (And again, hypnosis is a last resort here. He’s spent so many years dealing with Valentino’s temper tantrums that he’s an expert at diffusing any kind of argument, and nothing surprises anymore.)
Vox wouldn’t be likely to physically hurt you at all. He sees himself as being capable of more self-control than that, even when in the throes of jealousy. Really, the one you should be most afraid of during this entire ordeal is Valentino. While their relationship is by no means monogamous, and it never will be, he’s still used to being the center of attention. He uses violence and unpredictability to have Vox, largely, at his every beck and call. While Vox isn’t used to having denied things, Valentino’s is many times worse about it.
Initially, he ignores you. Designating you as some kind of fling, not even worthy of being one of his whores, soon ready to be forgotten. Vox doesn’t do those kinds of things all that often but, hey, anything’s bound to happen with an eternity of time to kill, right? It’s only when you become a more permanent fixture in their life that he really becomes more of a threat.
He’ll let his temper cut loose, specifically during times where the two of you are spending time together, causing mayhem around the company. If Vox’s attention is entirely unwanted, this may even be a welcome reprieve for you. Still, Valentino being jealous of you should be about the last thing you want. Frankly, it makes you liable to get shot on a bad day, or because of a poorly worded comment.
…Perhaps it would be better to stay close to Vox, then.
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bloodypeachblog · 3 months
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Vox x F!Reader NSFW drabbles/headcanons/fic
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~~~♡♡♡~~~
I woke up at 5:30 AM this morning and this popped into my head. I had to write it down and post it. It's 7 am now. With that, I'm going back to sleep. Pink text is you, blue text is Vox. Enjoy!
Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk and anyone who loves Vox and/or Hazbin Hotel!
~~~♡♡♡~~~
Imagine you're in a poly-friends-with-benefits thing with Vox and Val.
You guys fuck on the regular and you all have a great time.
But deep down, afterwards, you don't feel that satisfied.
Your body was satisfied, but not your heart.
You cared about both of them dearly, hell, even loved them.
But you knew that they would never feel the same.
Of course they wouldn't.
One night, after sex, you guys lay there in bed.
You laid between the two men, Val has his back to you on one side, and Vox was laying on his back on the other.
You just lay there, thinking.
Val broke your heart just a few moments ago and it hurt you more than you thought.
It wasn't an out of the blue thing, it wouldn't even bat an eyelash if every party felt it was nothing but sexual.
But it still hurt.
Once you all finished, there was a moment where you and Val looked into each others eyes.
You were hoping that he'd feel some sort of connection between you two, that there was something more than sex there.
But that wasn't the case. He just turned his back to you, not even saying a word other than 'night'.
You didn't expect it to hit you that hard, but as you laid there, your eyes held heartbreak and loneliness, like you would do anything for someone to hold you and love you.
You feel tears in your empty eyes and struggle not to cry.
"Hey.."
You hear Vox, breaking your train of thought. You turn to him and a tear drips down your cheek.
This causes his expression to change, turning towards you with a slightly worried gaze.
"Hey, what's wrong? You alright?"
You immediately wipe your tears away and laugh.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Guess the sex was that good, eh?"
Vox wasn't buying it.
He got on top of you and pinned you to the bed, his expression a stern one.
"Don't give me that bullshit. You're not okay. What's going on? Tell me."
There was no sweeping this under the rug. No forgetting it. He needed to know.
You can start feeling tears building up again and you say, "you promise not to laugh?"
"I won't laugh. Just tell me."
As you talked, tears started to well up and drip down your face as you spoke normally.
"Well, we fuck all the time, and it's great. But I always wanted something...more..you know? But you guys are so big and important, I don't even feel like I deserve to be here right now. I know it's stupid to expect anything like that from you guys. I mean, besides, who in their right mind would ever care about me, or even love me, right?"
You fake laughed as you said that last sentence, but he felt that pain like a plate of glass shattering in his heart and soul.
Oh, that hit home.
He knew exactly how you felt.
He may have been an overlord, but even he felt impostor's syndrome over it.
He'd never show it, but deep down, he felt like he didn't deserve to be as powerful as he was, to have everything he has.
That's why he made an agreement with Velvette and Valentino and formed the Vees, so he could feel important, like he was a part of something.
Everything seemed fine, but he felt so scared..
He felt it was just a matter of time until everything fell apart.
He knew neither of them would be there for him when things went bad. They wouldn't care about him, not one bit.
There was even one small, tiny shimmer of hope that he and Val could be something more, that there would be at least one person who genuinely cared, but he knew it'd never happen.
So hearing you say the words he was thinking and seeing the same look in your eyes was like looking into a mirror.
He gently cupped your cheeks and looked at you softly and only said two words.
"I would."
Before you could properly register what he just said, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips.
You were confused, but then you notice how he was kissing you.
This wasn't a lust-filled, makeout session to get you guys aroused and ready to go.
This was soft, tender, comforting. Like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a cold winter's night.
Then you realized what he said.
He would care for you and love you, not just that...he did.
You feel a few tears drip down your cheek as you closed your eyes and kissed him back.
You wrap your arms around Vox as the kiss continued. Your heart swelled and you could feel your body heat up once more.
Same went with Vox. As he shifted the kiss down to your neck and collarbone, he could feel himself getting hard again.
Everything felt so good, but this was much deeper, much more intense.
It wasn't too long until Vox slid himself inside you and started to thrust.
You moan as he lovingly thrust deep into you.
This wasn't him being quick just to get off; this was slow, no rush whatsoever.
It was like time had stopped just for you two to savor this moment.
The sound of Vox's soft groans and moans in your ear as he thrusted into you made your body heat up even more.
If you guys were louder, you probably would've woken Val up, but he was deep asleep, not hearing a thing.
Hell, he wouldnt care anyway, just thinking you two couldn't wait for him and decided to go together. No big deal.
Vox made sure to hit that deep spot in you, not chasing his own desires and instead trying to get you to cum as many times possible before he did.
But after a few hours (it felt like a few minutes with you two), you both could feel your climaxes building up, ready to explode.
Soon, Vox's thrusts became faster and slower, wanting to cum so badly but wanted you to cum first.
Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.
Through the moans and the pants, it wasn't long until he hit that spot one final time and made you see stars.
As you came, Vox did something that you never expected.
He came inside you.
As you both came, he kept himself inside and let his cum fill you up.
Him and Val never did that before. They'd always pull out and let their cum land on your body and face while you came on nothing.
But this? This was a clear message to you, a declaration of love, he was wordlessly saying 'this is how much you mean to me. This is for you and only you. This is how much I love you.'
A tear escaped your eye at that realization.
Soon, you both lost your highs and collapsed on each other, Vox sliding to lay on his side, facing you.
He pulled you close and held you, like if he let go, you'd disappear and this moment wouldn't have ever happened.
You held him, your arms wrapping around him and your head resting on his chest.
You could hear his circuits buzzing, his heart beating. That was all for you.
The joy you felt was indescribable.
"I love you." You let those words fall out of your mouth without any hesitation.
You started to drift off, but you kept yourself awake to hear his response.
He gently rubbed your back and said softly, "I love you too.."
With that, you could finally doze off, knowing someone genuinely loved you as much as you loved them.
Vox fell asleep knowing that no matter what happened, even if he lost everything, he'd still have you, and he'd be okay.
~~~♡♡♡~~~
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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months
Text
I'll Never Meet Another You... - Part 2
📺〘 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 〙📺
𝐀/𝐍: Back after popular demand... *drumroll* OUR FAVORITE TV MAN!! 🥰 I just love writing Possessive!Vox, idk what it is about him, he's just so sCrUmPtIoUs-
I lowkey feel like I'm betraying my country of Alastor Nation by simping for this man, but CAN YOU BLAME ME??
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟎𝟕𝟗 ⚠︎ 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖 ⚠︎: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐕𝐨𝐱 𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
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. . .
The skies of hell that normally shone a bright cherry red had faded into a deep alluring maroon, mock sparkles twinkling down upon the Pride Ring in a beautiful imitation of Earth’s stars when you finally returned home from work. 
You slammed your front door behind you, as all of the day’s pent-up frustration from being overworked and criminally underpaid finally weighed down on you, and a few dishes trembled in fear of your wrath as a soft glow of darkness outlined your figure. 
The peace of the apartment had been entirely interrupted to make room for your sulking at your shitty living situation, though you knew you should’ve been grateful to have your job, however stressful.
For you, it definitely beat out prostitution or becoming an assassin-for-hire, so, who were you to complain about your mentally taxing job as a waitress? You might’ve been catcalled a handful of times, and maybe it even bordered on harassment here and there, but you weren’t forced to outright fuck them.  
And thankfully, after some time, you had realized that for some reason, they never seemed to return to the restaurant, seeming to go missing completely from existence. Even an uncomfortable coworker of yours that you despised being around had been “let go” after a mere day of working at the diner. Maybe they all got the hint? That’s what you’d like to hope. 
Though, even if you were safe from such advances, you definitely weren’t spared from the abuse of being burnt out of all your social battery in order to serve people. 
The fact that it was Valentine’s Day in a few days didn’t make it any better. 
For the entire first week of February, you were forced to sacrifice your sanity to serve people with a dazzling smile and cake a ridiculous amount of concealer on your face to hide your heavy eyebags.
Not to mention the slight jealousy that had boiled over inside of you, fueled by exhaustion and loneliness from cold nights alone and grueling days working at the restaurant, whenever you had to serve those lovey-dovey couples that were all over each other.
You despised them, with their tender Eskimo kisses, and stupid, mushy pet names for each other, and- Oh, great, they’re fucking under the table, now!
You’d had to kick out more than one group for that handful of incidents.
Just once, you’d like for someone to sweep you off your tired feet and bring you to a nice little outing, while shoving your infatuation with each other in everyone’s single-pringle fucking faces. 
Oh, well. It wasn’t like finding love in a wretched place like Hell was probable. But you had your delusional fantasies, and more importantly, your playlists. 
A familiar bloom of warmth in your chest had your heart ache with relief as you stumbled over to your bedroom. You promptly flopped onto your thin, squeaky mattress and stretched out your arms and legs, popping each stiff joint that had formed that day. 
Rolling onto your back, you let your loose hair that had been strained into a bun all day fall onto the bed as you opened Sinstagram, bobbing your head to a song that had been stuck inside your playlist for a while.
It felt like an actual crime to start indulging in your daily stalking admiring of your latest obsession, the television Overlord himself, the founder of the biggest tech company in the Pride Ring, you guessed it, Vox. 
Yes, you knew that it was creepy, but this was Hell. Who was anyone to judge you for fangirling – just a little bit – over him? Especially with that face card. You’d had very unsavory relationships in the past, but you’d throw your entire Sacred Rulebook of Relationship Standards out of the proverbial window for Vox. 
Besides, anyone would be fucking blind not to fawn over him. Seven feet tall, hotter than hell itself, and more powerful and influential than you could possibly conceive? He was every Wattpad reader’s wet dream. The blueprint, if you were being honest.
As you start scrolling through his Sinstagram – well, the company’s, really – a soft smile spreads across your face, your yearning gaze completely taken with him. 
The levels of down bad you had to be, to fall in love with a flat screen... 
Unbeknownst to you, a soft whirring that could’ve easily been mistaken for an air conditioner had gotten louder and louder, closer and closer to the familiar stained glass of your bedroom window, tarnished with smoke and pollution. But it was clear enough for someone to look in and see what heinous acts you were doing on that phone of yours, never mind your search history. 
Even Val would turn his nose up at some of that shit...
You didn’t even notice the small flash of the lens from its installed camera, or how it hovered just ever so close enough to the window beside you that it could get a proper view of what you were looking at, the contents of your phone on display for its Master to see. 
And said Master was currently relaxing into his chair with a self-satisfied simper, his earlier stress from the typical daily jetlag melting away in your presence. The tension in Vox's shoulders loosened as his fingers danced over the keyboard briefly, and a monitor to the right lit up with a close-up of your face.
We meet again, Doll~...
The electronic Overlord had been awaiting this moment for what seemed like an eternity, as he mundanely danced his way through daily routine simply to keep you under his watchful eye, come the evening. 
Throughout the day, Vox’s phone had been blowing up, par for the course of the ‘season of love’, as they called it. Of course, dealing with his job daily would’ve been an absolute thrill; cultivating his power and influence to spread across the Pride Ring by the second, watch Sinners fall over themselves to purchase the latest of VoxTech, y’know, the usual everyday experience.
But you were his change in daily routine, an escape from the facade of a showman that he had to keep up for the public, and you were right within Vox's reach.
And he could only restrain himself from up and snatching you away for so long. 
Though, recently, the idea of kidnapping you had left a rather sour taste on Vox's tongue. He would've rather lured you in with his persona, and captivate you with all that he could offer, the security, the wealth, whatever you'd desire, Vox would provide.
So, when Vox found out about your "little" infatuation with him, what with the sinful fanart hoarding and the fact that you anonymously followed every account that he or his company managed, it was a game changer.
And the television demon was, above all, a courteous, charismatic demon, despite his... outbursts. And although he didn't have much relationship experience, he'd rather like to learn.
And he was sure that you'd be more than willing to teach him.
Vox’s focus from his fantasies were broken by the sight of your expression souring when a notification pinged on your phone. 
It was your new co-worker, who had texted you the details of the new opening times since the restaurant had been getting much more foot traffic. 
And it apparently planned to remain that way until the end of the month. 
"6 A.M.? Are you fucking kidding me?... Alright, might as well get to bed earlier, now," you stood up and begrudgingly over to your bathroom, grumbling a string of curses as your bad mood was freshly revived.
Vox watched as you retreated from your bedroom, throwing articles of clothing from the bathroom onto your bed.
Water began pattering against the marble walls, and steam had gradually seeped into the room.
“I’m just an average man, with an average life...” 
“I work from nine to five, hey, hell, I pay the price.” 
Oh, you little tease...
With a soft scoff at the irony, Vox started humming along to the little tune you’d started singing as he tapped his fingers against the desk, impatient to be graced with your presence on the live feed of the VoxTech Voyeurscope. 
“All I want is to be left alone, in my average home.” 
“But why do I always feel, like I’m in the Twilight Zone?” 
Vox sat back in his chair and kicked his legs upon the surface of his desk, his mind racing with answers to your predicament.
“I always feel like, somebody’s watchin’ me~!"
He was accustomed to returning to his room, only to bear witness to your mad self-ranting about what a dick your boss was, how your shitty pay was barely supporting you, and the many idiots you had to deal with, ones Vox would personally take care of, of course. 
“And I have no privacy, ooh-oh-oh,"
"I always feel like, somebody's watching me!"
But as entertaining as it was, Vox hated seeing you slump into your abode, the eyebags more prominent than ever on your face.
You looked so... tired, so spent. He'd never use you like that, not if he was your boss...
“Tell me is it just a dream?” 
Wait...
A pixelated lightbulb flashed against the left side of Vox's interface as he leaned forward against his monitor, frantically searching for whoever he needed to terminate fire so that you could take their place. 
And, like a hellish prayer answered, the spot for a personal assistant was gloriously empty.
Heh, there really is a God...
A wave of Vox’s hand ordered the computer to direct him to his personal digital office, showing him forms, emails, and requests waiting for him to green light, all minor cases compared to what he was searching for. 
It didn’t take long for Vox to find the form he was looking for, and it seemed that Lucifer had smiled upon him that day, as right when he retrieved the assistant application form, you exited the shower, the patter of water coming to an abrupt stop. 
You walked out in nothing but a towel and a sheen of water droplets glistening against your skin. Ever the gentleman, Vox turned away with a small blue-hued blush when you dropped the towel and began to dress yourself, only turning back when he spotted you picking up the towel out of his peripheral. 
With a small, triumphant smirk and a short mental request, the Voyeurscope returned promptly to Vox. He handed it the form, manifesting it into a physical piece of paper to insert into its awaiting craned claws. 
Vox could get you out of that horrible place, no doubt about it. But he had to make sure that you did your part as well. 
"Bring this to her apartment. Be discreet about it."
He handed the drone the empty form, and instantly it zoomed across the Entertainment District to your apartment, which wasn’t even that far from the Vee’s headquarters. 
It made a short trip through the ventilation system that led into your bedroom, tucking in on itself to deliver the paper to you.
Thankfully your back was turned to it and braiding your hair, as a shiny metal claw reached out from behind the metal door to the vent just above your bed. It dropped the application form upon your mattress, and Vox waited with bated breath for you to notice.
The form floated precariously down onto your bed, landing gracefully just as you turned around and jumped onto the mattress. You were half-tempted to reach for your phone and end the night with your daily simp-scrolling before bed. 
Vox’s heart lurched in his chest once you spotted the form and held up the piece of paper with a questioning expression. You didn’t remember having this anywhere in your bag when you left the restaurant. 
“What in the...?”  
Then, your eyes caught onto the logo. 
VoxTech. 
Holy shit. 
Apparently, you’d accidentally snatched someone else’s application form to work for VoxTech, an idea that completely slipped your mind for the last miserable months you’d slaved away at the diner you worked at.
It wasn’t like a spontaneous trip to the Entertainment District, of all places, was something that you could afford, let alone tolerate with the skeezes that sauntered about the streets, looking for young little things like you to prey on. 
But despite its infamous reputation, Vox definitely wasn’t the worst of the Vees, not by a fucking long shot. And that wasn’t just your obsessive, simping brain talking here. 
Sure, he was the embodiment of capitalism and corporate greed at its finest, but an office job with a few tons of workload sounded much better than what you were getting, working at a shabby restaurant and going home every night to your shithole of an apartment.
Not to mention, you’d be working under the Overlord you’d obsessed over for weeks on end. 
Hopefully you’d get the chance to be under him, too- 
Also, the goddamn paygrade! Your eyes bulged out of your head and your mouth fell slightly agape in surprise, unaware of how the television Overlord was gauging your every reaction and sipping on his coffee with an amused smirk. 
Perhaps God had finally taken pity upon your mortal soul and decided that you deserved to catch a break, and for that, you were eternally grateful. You’d be skipping halfway to church, by now, if Hell had one. Maybe even click your heels a couple times on the way, too. 
In a flash, you rushed over to your nuclear fallout zone of a desk, sweeping the mess of papers and ‘RENT DUE’ bills off its surface. You quickly took a pen and scribbled down the required information for the application form at lightning speed. Smoke was practically rising off the paper by the time you were done with it.
The form was filled out in record time, and Vox watched as his plan unfolded perfectly before him. The definite click of your desk drawer closed as you placed the form inside for tomorrow, your fate sealed and unknowingly passed into Vox's greedy hands. 
“So gullible for me, aren’t you~?” His gaze softened adoringly towards you as he murmured to no one; gentle, placating words meant for your ears hitting only the damned barrier of his computer screen.
A fond, blue-hued grin lined with neon teal teeth spread across Vox’s blue-screen interface as he watched you flop onto your bed. You kicked your feet happily and gushed like a schoolgirl as you lost yourself to your daydreaming.
You knew you weren’t important enough to actually have a meeting with Vox himself, but this was fucking fanfic material, and a gorgeous opportunity that you knew was too good to brush off. 
“Ooh! I can’t wait to meet him! If I ever meet him. I wonder what Vox's like when he isn’t working... He’s definitely the Type A kinda guy, super work oriented.” A spot-on observation.
“Ugh... But I’m totally not, though. Eh, doesn’t matter, I’ll be accepted either way, it’s not like anyone else is brave enough to accept the job.” Well, she’s not wrong. 
“No, that’s a little cocky. I mean, it’s not exactly a guarantee I’ll be accepted.” Oho, you’d be surprised, my dear...
You pouted doubtfully for a moment, weighing all the variables in your head. This could go horribly wrong for you, maybe even end up with your brains splattering against an aquarium wall, if you played your cards recklessly.
But you'd had enough of this life, and you were far from sick of drowning in the suffocating depressive cycle that you'd been spiraling into for the past couple of months since you'd arrived in Hell.
Who knew your afterlife would be just as dismal and bleak as your human one.
“But it’s worth a shot!” You clenched your fists with a newfound determination, and Vox let out a relieved sigh. You really shouldn’t scare him like that, not when he was so close to having you securely within his grasp. Willingly, that is.
If pushed to it, Vox had no qualms over taking you by force.
“Even though I have no idea what he’s like in person, I’d die to meet him. Double die, that is.”  
“Ugh, but should I miss my shift for the interview? Or should I plan to go there whenever Boss gives me a break next?”  
It was practically torture, watching you go back and forth between decisions, leaving Vox feeling like he was watching the finale of ‘Yeah, I Fucked Your Girlfriend, So What?’, and it had left him on the cruelest cliffhanger he could’ve possibly manifested in the history of shitty melodramas. 
You hadn’t even decided what you were even going to wear, and you were already rethinking your afterlife’s choices. 
Oh, shit...
Your once relaxed state was all but diminished when you realized that simply showing up to the interview wasn’t going to cut it. You had to dress to impress to land this job.
After all, Vox's reputation was the peak of excellence, perfection at its finest, and the company's interviewers would probably have you executed on the spot if you dared to show up in tattered sweatpants and your favorite hoodie.
You rushed over to your dresser, throwing out any articles of clothing you deemed inappropriate for the interview.
Finally, you settled on a plain midnight blue form-fitting blouse with a black ascot, and a black pencil skirt that you had bought for your uniform at the diner. You never wore it much, of course, with all the sleazy customers you’d attract, but you thought it was cute, anyway. 
With a satisfied hum, you laid out the outfit upon your desk, and with a relieved sigh, fell right back into bed with your phone on the lowest brightness possible.
You then scrolled the endless crimson twilight away with half-lidded eyes until you slowly drifted off to sleep, leaving Vox alone to his thoughts once more.
Upon seeing your dozing form, Vox made the drone hover for just a few more moments to watch you drift off into a blissful sleep.
He promptly called it back, and once again, the poor drone worked overtime to return to its Master, and its battery was nearly completely spent as it landed in Vox's claws.
Sharp, neon-dipped fingers tampered with the device for a moment, searching for the gold mine of footage he had recorded. He tossed the video onto his monitor's screen, and the file loaded and saved instantly into his precious folder. 
A warmth crept up his chest as he laid back in his chair, a conniving grin stretching its way onto his features.
The familiar smugness of sure victory, and the honey-sweet bitterness of whatever spell you had put him under had left his heart aching. You may have been prone to your midday daydreaming, but they couldn't compare to Vox's ambitious fantasies of you and him together.
And tomorrow, you'd be all his. His personal assistant, clad in that tight little uniform that had him frothing at the mouth for you.
And speaking of which...
Vox's retinas pulled up different images of uniforms and color-coordinated outfits that perfectly matched his likeness and style.
Indeed, when Vox was done with you, you'd be a spitting image of him, every facet and aspect of you fashioned for him, and him alone.
Every demon in Hell would know exactly who you belonged to, from the marks that would line your shoulders and thighs, to the pleated blue skirt and coattails that he'd have Velvet fashion, just for you.
She'd look stunning in my colors...
. . .
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Alright, I promise, I SWEAR WE'RE GETTING THERE-
I needed to use this chapter to build up the plot's structure, since the first chapters tend to be little concepts of what I want the rest of the story to be about. I promise, ON MY MOTHER that next chapter we will be seeing more Vox x Reader content in chapter three, especially since the tv demon brainrot is invading and corrupting my brain cells rn 😓
As always, thanks for reading! And once again, my taglist is always below, so please comment there to be tagged!
. . .
𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @chewbrry, @villxinmiixx, @lulurubberduckie, @mysterypotatoink, @kintsugi-akane, @rustedtoaster
➺𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!
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stories-and-chaos · 3 months
Text
Shrike: The Deal with Niffty
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[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. Prompted by @clearly-awkward and after some theory crafting with my wife, here we are!]
[One shot, word count 1558, Cw: consensual bondage]
———————
The late 1950’s. Rock and roll was starting to dominate the airwaves, even in Hell. Jazz, swing, and even the blues were being requested less at the clubs you performed at. So you started listening to this newest style to see if it fit your voice, but there weren’t many songs that grabbed you yet.
You were a performer, not a composer. You didn’t have the gift for lyrics. Rather, you had an ear for what appealed and were able to infuse your passion into what you sang. You could tell what people liked about rock and roll, but so far you hadn’t found the song to draw you into the genre.
Music was the topic of discussion for you and Alastor on your way back from lunch with Vox. It wasn’t a business lunch; Alastor hated the concept of discussing intense business over a meal. And Vox was always intense. Your husband still didn’t care for television but it was hard not to respect Vox’s ability.
As you walked leisurely through the streets of Pentagram City, you started hearing a scuttling noise behind you. With the myriad of demons around it wasn’t an unusual sound. But the sound kept following you. You could tell Alastor heard it too by his ears twitching. The rapid patter was joined by giggles and snippets of a voice saying “bad boy.”
After a few blocks you had enough. You let go of Alastor’s arm to turn down a cross street. He gave you a quizzical look but continued walking as you pressed a talon to your lips and made a shooing motion. Not far behind him ran a tiny demon. You heard her say “baaaaad booooooyyy” as she scurried along. Annoyed, you picked her up by the back of her dress.
You weren’t particularly tall but even you dwarfed this demon. She squealed as you lifted her into the air, all her limbs flailing so fast you could barely see them. “Noooooo! The bad boy’s getting awaaaaayyyy!” She spun slowly at the end of your arm; after a few seconds you could see the giant red-orange eye dominating her face, tears gathering at both sides. Her pupil spun wildly as she tried to keep looking at Alastor while facing you.
“If by ‘bad boy’ you mean the tall red demon, ma petite, that’s my husband. So find your own.” You dropped her back to the ground as she sniffled. You caught up to Alastor as the little cyclops started bawling in the street.
“Goodness cher, whatever did you say to the little thing?”
“I simply informed her that you’re my ‘bad boy,’ darling.”
You thought that would be the end of it, but the little demon kept popping up to stalk Alastor whenever he went out. You sent her packing when you could catch her, but after that first time she proved to be rather slippery. You ended up having to create little whirlwinds to sweep her away; the downside was she seemed to like that.
Alastor for his part, merely let things play out between you two. He seemed amused by both the little Sinner’s obsession and your jealousy. “I’m surprised you haven’t done away with her yet, cher,” he mentioned while the two of you lingered over breakfast one day.
“Mmm, as annoying as it is, she’s not exactly a threat.” You took a sip of coffee. “Although if she keeps it up I might end up killing her regardless.”
Alastor hummed quietly as he speared another piece of raw venison. “Perhaps we should do something about the situation then. I’d hate for you to bloody your talons over so minor a thing as annoyance.”
That day, you let the cyclops follow Alastor for longer than usual. Which meant she got much closer than before. Close enough that you could snap her up in a miniature whirlwind and grab her much like the first time. Once you had a grip on her poodle skirt, Alastor surrounded you all with his shadows.
She didn’t seem scared at all by the sudden darkness. Instead you heard giggles as your husband moved the three of you to the bayou in your home. The spot he picked was screened by trees, concealing the fact that it was connected to your front room.
Once the shadows released you all, the demon in your hand started running in air, trying to get to Alastor. “Well my dear, you certainly are stubborn.” He grabbed her shirt back to hold her at his eye level. “Now then, what might your name be, ma petite?”
“I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you!”
“Alright Niffty, why do you keep following my husband around? You keep coming back no matter what I do,” you said sharply.
She giggled more. “I like bad boys and he’s the baddest boy I’ve ever seen.” She flailed her arms and started grasping her hands in his direction.
Alastor quirked an eyebrow at her. “Despite my darling wife’s disapproval? And all the times she’s forced you away?”
“I like being forced!” came her prompt reply. “And for a lady, she’s fuuuun,” Niffty continued. You and Alastor exchanged a glance of confusion. This discussion was taking an unexpected turn.
“And what did you plan on doing once you got to the ‘bad boy?’” you asked, curiosity overcoming annoyance.
Her one dark pupil bounced between the two of you. “Make a deal,” she stated immediately, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t let the baddest boy get away.”
Neither of you had anyone approach you for a deal before. You offered something they thought they needed desperately, and received compensation in return. Sometimes it was a soul, sometimes it was an item or service. The deals that didn’t immediately involve a soul were to lay the groundwork for ensnaring the other party later. Sell one thing to a dealmaker and you’re more willing to sell again later.
But a demon just walking up to anyone, much less the Radio Demon, to make a deal out of the blue…this Niffty just kept surprising you. “What kind of deal? What do you want from it?”
She shrugged. “Whatever he wants. The deal is the important part, you guys can decide what it’s for. I just wanna belong to the baddest boy.” She grinned wildly, her attention mostly on Alastor.
His smile stretched in return. “Well this sounds entertaining. What do you think, cher?”
You motioned for him to put Niffty at your eye level. Once he obliged you looked at her sternly. “You’re not a homewrecker, are you?”
She just giggled again. “Nope! Working for you both sounds much more fun.” You leaned back and held you hands out. “She wants a deal with you, Alastor darling. I’ll leave things to you.”
“Thank you Y/N.” He set Niffty onto the mossy ground and twirled his cane in thought. “Hmmm, well Niffty dear, I have a proposition for you. I’ll give you my protection and you give me your soul, to be at my beck and call. Do we have a deal?” He leaned down, right hand extended and radiating a green glow.
Her eye shined as Alastor laid out his terms. She grabbed his hand with both of hers as she replied “Yes! It’s a deal, Alastor!” The green glow became a collar and chain that latched onto her neck. Unlike every other deal you’d seen, once the collar was on she twirled gleefully repeating “thank you thank you thank youuuu!”
At least until it faded, becoming insubstantial until Alastor needed it. “Hey, where’d it go?” She started to sniffle, making Alastor blink in surprise.
“It’s still there my dear, but you can’t really do much for us if it’s always manifested,” your husband said, sounding oddly gentle to the little cyclops. That just made her tear up however. Alastor floundered, completely out of his depth now.
You clapped your hands together once, inspiration striking. “Cher, can I have your handkerchief?” Confused, he handed you the black square of cloth. Like all his handkerchiefs, you had embroidered his name in gold thread in one corner. “Niffty, ma petite, come here and we’ll try this.” She perked up and skittered next to where you kneeled down.
You showed her the embroidery, explaining that you’d sewn it. You folded it diagonally so the name wasn’t immediately obvious. Then you wrapped it around her neck, tying the points together just snug enough that she couldn’t slip it over her head. You grasped the knot and put just a bit of wind magick into it. “There we go. Now try to undo the knot.”
Niffty reached for it with both hands; they were immediately blown back by a gust. Her eye widened as she tried again and her hands were repelled just as fast. “Eeeehuhuhuheeeeee!” she giggled, trying again. “It’s perfect. Thank you Y/N!”
“Wonderful! Now let’s get some refreshments and go over your new duties Niffty.” Alastor helped you to your feet and led the way into the ‘house’ section of your house.
With that your husband gained a very loyal housekeeper for you both. He did have to forbid her from trying to clean the bayou, as she’d gladly spend days trying. She was allowed to hunt bugs there to her heart’s content.
@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry
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yesihaveaobsession · 23 days
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Being Alastor's Short Girlfriend. (MY HEADCANONS)
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He only dated you because he loved how short you were. You definitely weren't as short as the king of hell, but a little shorter than Charlie, which he loves because he can just throw you around (not literally, I mean he probably could). Not to mention how stubborn you've become, pouting and puffing out your bottom at him, or even just trying to take him on.
So here are my HEADCANONS.:
Forehead Kisses: If and when he just wants to show you some quick affection he would bend down from his normal height and place a kiss on your forehead. This is mainly in public to show all those other sinners (Vox) who you belong to. He wants to show off his girl (as he should)
You were reading a book on his armchair in the foyer of the hotel, he snuck up behind you and places a quick peck on your forehead while leaning an arm on the back of the chair as he smiled down at you, he had told you he was going to be in the radio tower and to come find him if you needed anything. (He would stop his broadcast just for you and only you)
2.Lifting You Up: Lifting you up would be easily picking you up with no struggle and throwing you over his shoulder, of course he still wearing his smile, you fight him and tell him to put you down but then just give up.
You stood Infront of your demon boyfriend in a ready stance in his room, he was training you to be better at your combat, but he took one step close to you with a blink of an eye he lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked and threated him but with a closed with smile and hooded eyes he knew if he could easily pick you up like this. What were you going to do?
3.Piggyback Rides: He offers piggyback rides, allowing you to relax and enjoy the view from a higher vantage point, while he revels in your laughter and happiness. Once everyone is out of the hotel and it's just you two, this is mainly. Just you and him time ;)
Alastor, with his trademark grin, sought out his girlfriend you, amidst the Hazbin Hotel's chaos. Finding you in the lobby, he proposed an impromptu adventure—a piggyback ride. Amused, you accepted, and you too set off through the hotel's corridors, drawing stares from curious demons. With you securely on his back, you too reveled in the simple joy of being together, two souls intertwined in the madness of the Hazbin Hotel.
4.Lifting You onto Countertops: He playfully lifts you onto countertops or high surfaces so you can reach things easily, turning mundane tasks into fun moments together. Because everyone in the hotel is taller than you, so you beloved boyfriend helps you.
In the Hazbin Hotel kitchen, you struggled to reach high cabinets. Then, Alastor appeared, offering help with a smirk. With his guidance, you found yourself perched on the countertops, feeling a rush of excitement. Alastor effortlessly retrieved what you needed, impressing you with his skill. A brief touch sparked a silent understanding between you. With a charming smile, he helped you down, leaving behind a memorable moment in the chaos of the hotel kitchen.
5.Carrying You Bridal Style: On special occasions or just for fun, Alastor sweeps you off your feet and carries your bridal style, relishing in the joy of holding you close.
In the heart of the Hazbin Hotel's chaos, you found yourself swept off your feet by Alastor. With a devilish grin, he carried your bridal style through the bustling corridors, drawing curious glances from passersby. In that moment, it felt like just the two of you, lost in your own little world of love and mischief amidst the chaos of the hotel.
6.The Gentle Head Tilt: When they're talking, Alastor sometimes tilts his girlfriend's chin up with a finger, just to steal a quick kiss or gaze into her eyes.
In the midst of their conversations, Alastor often found himself captivated by his girlfriend's presence. Sometimes, as they spoke, he couldn't resist the urge to gently tilt her chin up with a finger, drawing her attention to him. With a charming smile playing on his lips, he'd steal a quick kiss or gaze deeply into her eyes, lost in the moment of their connection. "You are just so adorable my dear."
7.Playful Teasing: Alastor enjoys teasing his girlfriend about her height in a playful and affectionate way, making her laugh and feel loved despite any insecurities.
Alastor laughs as he bent down to the waist and watched you pout he patted your head. "You're so short."
8. Cooking Together: Alastor loves cooking with his girlfriend you, and he's always there to reach the high shelves or assist you with any tasks that require extra height. Oh, and this...
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In the lively kitchen of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor and you stood side by side, ready to cook up a storm together. With a playful smirk, he handed you an apron, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Looks like we have a feast to prepare, my dear," he announced.
Together, you dove into the ingredients, Alastor adding his flair with dramatic flair. Amidst the chaos, you danced around each other, laughter filling the air.
As the aroma of your creation wafted through the kitchen, you shared knowing glances, your shared passion bringing you closer.
Finally, sitting down to enjoy your masterpiece, you both knew that every moment together was a delicious adventure waiting to be savored.
9.Drawing You Close in Crowded Places: In crowded places, Alastor instinctively pulls his girlfriend closer to him, protecting her and making her feel secure in the midst of the crowd. There are terrible people out there who can get to you, and he can't have that.
If it's loud he whispers in your ear too.
In crowded places, Alastor instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping you in his protective embrace. His gaze scans the crowd, reassuring you softly, "There are terrible people out there who can get to you, my dear, but fear not, for I won't let them near you."
With him by your side, you feel safe and secure amidst the chaos, his unwavering protection a constant reminder of his love. As you navigate through the throngs of people, your bond grows stronger, forged in the crucible of adversity.
10.Creating Inside Jokes:: You have a collection of inside jokes, often revolving around your height difference, that only you two understand, strengthening your bond and shared experiences.
In the cozy moments you share with Alastor, you both have a collection of inside jokes, often revolving around your height difference. From playful quips about needing a step stool to reach high shelves to exaggerated reenactments of trying to kiss each other without straining, these jokes are a source of endless amusement and strengthen your bond.
What makes these inside jokes special is that they're known only to the two of you, adding an extra layer of intimacy to your relationship. Amidst the chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, these moments of shared laughter become precious, reinforcing the connection you cherish with Alastor.
Although he doesn't like being touched, he can make an exception for his adorable little girlfriend.
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Sorry, this isn't as long as my first head canon I have been SUPER BUSY :( I hope y'all joy this anyways~ DON'T hate me I KNOW he's ace but I'm delusional.
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