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#Valentino is a jerk
This is another one shot I wrote over on Archive of our Own.
It’s another extended scene. Takes place in “Welcome to Heaven”, if Cherri confronted Valentino, too.
“I said fuck off!”, repeated Angel, keeping a protective arm around Niffty. “I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain’t fucking with any of my friends!”
Valentino got to his feet. “You forget who you’re talking to?”, he waved his cigarette in front of him as the trail formed a chain with one end attaching itself around Angel’s wrist. “I own you, bitch.”
“That son of a-“, muttered Cherri. She stepped away from the table until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She caught a glimpse of Husk with a look of caution written on his face. He shook his head. Cherri rolled her eye, shoving Husk’s hand away.
Angel took a deep breath. “Yeah, you do, in the studio, and you can do whatever you want to me there, just like our deal says. But out here, I get to do what I want.”
“Didn’t ya hear him, ya multicolored floozy?”, asked Cherri, prodding Valentino on his back. “He told ya to fuck off.”
“Cher, what are you doing?”, asked Angel, both his voice and eyes softening at the sight of her.
Valentino turned his head with a confused expression which briefly turned to one of recognition. He pushed Angel away. “I know you”, he said slyly as he extended one of his lower arms, grabbing Cherri by her wrist and pulling her closer to him. Close enough for her to see her reflection in his glasses.
Angel felt his face getting hot. “Let her go, Val.”
Valentino ignored him. He raised a hand, stroking a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him, “You’re the fiery minx who’s been wrecking my billboards all over town.”
“Aww. Have I struck a nerve, ya fucking pussy?”, she spat out, forcing a smile. She struggled to free herself. Unfazed when Valentino took a puff from his cigarette and blew the crimson smoke in her face. She stifled an urge to cough.
He chuckled. “No”, he turned his head, a malicious smile forming at how pissed Angel was. “But it seems that I have…”
Angel scowled. He was no stranger to the merciless abuse at his boss’s hands. He could take it. What he couldn’t take was the sleazy Overlord having the audacity to lay his filthy hands on Cherri.
Valentino, grabbing a fistful of Cherri’s hair, looked her body over. “You know, if you need a job… I’m always hiring.”
Angel saw red.
Extracting his third set of arms to hold onto Niffty, Angel used his first set to wring the chain in his hands and threw the slack over and around Valentino’s neck. “Motherfucker!”, he yelled, yanking him back, causing him to release Cherri.
Valentino grit his teeth as he used one hand to grab the chain, keeping it off of his neck, allowing him to breathe, and used another to grab Angel by his shirt collar. The chain disappeared.
Before he could even brace himself for the impact, Angel felt a white hot pain as he fell to the floor, pushing Niffty out of harm’s way. He could feel something dripping from his nose and he could see small red drops of blood hitting the floor. A shadow loomed over him.
“Enjoy the rest of your night, bitch, because I’m going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow”, said Valentino, returning to the two demons he’d been flirting with.
Cherri glared at him. “Fucking dickhead!”
Angel picked himself up. “Fuck it. It was worth it.”
“Way to go, kid”, said Husk, placing a comforting hand on Angel’s back.
Angel smiled as the four of them walked back to their table.
Cherri nudged his arm, offering a handkerchief she pulled out of Husk’s pocket. “Hey, ya alright, Angie?”
“As good as I can be. You?”, he said, dabbing his nose.
“I’m always alright.”
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flitsy · 4 months
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pixelqueen666 · 3 months
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Lets be honest. The only person that fucked with Valentino and got out safe and sound is Niffty LMFAO
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weebsinstash · 11 months
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So, hear me out, but; what if y/n was totally aware that Miguel is into them? It's flattering, having this huge, incredibly dangerous man that's really obviously weak in the knees when you give him doe eyes, or lean over him and press your chest up against his back to point at something on his screen. You never treat it seriously, always flitting in and out of Nueva York and in and out of Miguel's reach. Teasing, flirting, but never going further than that, simply enjoying the attention and warm fuzzies that come with making a man break the mug he's holding because you stretched and your shirt rode up enough to expose your belly.
And it's not like he's gonna do anything bad! It's just flirting, and he's a fellow Spiderperson! You're all good people here... Right?
This is kind of different but similar but, I find myself drawn to Reader inserts/characters that like, maybe if they don't hate themselves, are like inherently incapable of even considering that someone might like them romantically, like you're not constant gloom and doom but you find the concept of someone loving you romantically outright wacky crazy
Miguel throws a lil tiny experimental flirt towards Reader to test the waters, and Reader flirts right back because they think he's JOKING. Miguel takes that as a sign and starts giving you more compliments and little flirtatious remarks and you just think this is like, platonic teasing, that he's ribbing you, you think Its Like A Friend Thing Like A Gimmick, and it takes him a while to notice you have absolutely no idea he's being 2099% serious when he makes those corny comments about how he gets lost in your eyes, saying shit like he's the hunky male lead from a telenovela or something
Combine this with the alternative dangerously risky concept of "Reader who jokingly says foul/raunchy shit" which is also a Val/Reader concept I've had. But like. Idk. Miguel sees you slurping a soda or sweet drink or idk even smoking and he jokes like "wow those are some lungs" and without blinkijg before you can even consider the consequences you hit him with "yeah I can suck dick like this too" and he chokes on his own food in shock, red as a tomato. Or Reader jokingly slaps his butt like some real football locker room go team shit or maybe you're teasing him and telling him he's "fat" and he has to excuse himself while the skin is still stinging because, oh my GOD did you just give him the biggest hard-on and it's about to EXPLODE--
Just accidentally making him totally crazy about you because you're literally too doubtful of him potentially having feelings for you or being interested in you in any capacity besides platonically that you accidentally act your unhindered full charisma self. You're too doubtful of him loving you to be self conscious and embarrassed of anything you say or do and think he just sees you as like, a sibling. Someday you'll learn to regret all those times you jokingly kissed him on the cheek because you thought it would gross him out or the time you got too drunk on spiked eggnog at the Christmas party and kissed him right on the mouth, but like, almost as you would a brother or a cat, as you coo how handsome he is, hes such a pretty boy, and "why hasn't he found himself a wife yet-- wait shit I am so sorryyyyyyyy i forgot 😥" because. You know. poor guy. But also. Gotta love the dilf factor
Ughhhhhh there really are a lot of us feeling the "baby trapping" energy from this man. Miguel who pokes holes in condoms because the second you get pregnant "oh, in that case well, I'll take responsibility and marry you and we can raise the baby :)" which I mean, considering his losses that's its own significant undertaking for him, that entire process and line of thinking is some sort of combination "healing" while getting ten times worse. Not to say he doesn't adore you or the thought of having kids with you, just... he might not be considering the most noble of methods anymore, for anything really. Getting drinks with you and biding his time until the alcohol slowly loosens you up and he gets you alone and you're too tipsy and sex hungry to stop and realize he isn't using protection until he's, you know, finishing inside of you. He'll use a drunken one night stand to try and weasel his way into dating you, if you're not already pregnant from that one night. I mean shit he's just so like large and imposing and just, God, he's hot though, I feel like it would be so hard to not visibly be flustered at the very least, and he'll use any reactions you make as cues for what he can try next. Even just suddenly grabbing your hips or waist or sides and making you suddenly squeak and he can tell by the look on your face that he's totally getting you hot even if maybe you're embarrassed and might not inherently want to act on anything (yet? Imagine wanting that Thick Dilf Dick and being physically attracted to him and respecting him and so you legitimate pursue him if only hust for sex and somehow you Accidentally Unlock The Crazy In Him)
One day you think he's just a harmless coworker, the next day you're finding he's got extensive stalker ass records for you, pictures, videos, just surveillance things, and he's not quite as Charming and Valiant to you anymore. In fact you're just about starting to realize all those comments he made that made you swoon before are now starting to make your skin crawl, but hey, just like you stumbled upon his secret, he stumbles upon you and catches you red handed, and well, he's sorry you found out this way but he was going to confess to you more seriously eventually right? Is THIS enough of a clear signal for you yet?
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ggrna · 2 years
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from 2020
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ciotogdemon · 3 months
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Cool Ideas for Wish Movie
Otherwise known as some ideas I have for just funny and cool concepts.
The entire thing with the star is it gives you the TOOLS you need to pursue your dream but you need to do the work yourself.
Asha has a character arc where she asks for help specifically, and when Star Boy comes down, she is like, “alright, you can just magic the wishes away defeat Magnifico, and everything will be awesome!” :D
Except that doesn’t work, and star boy eventually gets captured weakened or temporarily killed, prompting Asha to realize “Wait a minute, star may be the one with magic, but I have doing all of these crazy brave things, making my own choices, so what I really need to do is believe in myself and my community, take charge, and START A REVOLUTION!!!!” Which she does
Valentino has a gag where instead of just saying random stuff, he actually has a very deep and rich vocabulary and debate topics, which speaks to how his real wish wasn’t to speak, but to be able to communicate his complex ideas to people, in which case Star’s magic is a conveyer of that wish.
For example, maybe Valentino, Asha, and Star boy are running away from guards, Asha says, “turn into something that scares them!” Star: I don’t know what scares people! Asha: Spiders, snakes- Valentino: OUR COSMIC INSIGNIFICANCE AND THE INEVITABILITY OF DEATH!!!!!
Also a different scene where Asha and star need to break into the castle and need her friends to distract the guards, and they don’t know what to do, so star silently conjures and accordion for Hal, smiles, and flies away. Gabo says they’re all going to be arrested. The guards run into the room and are like, “what are you all doing here?”. And Hal awkwardly says, “…a birthday party?” And one of the guards in the back is just so excited “oh my gosh guys you remembered?!” And everyone just goes along with it and are forced by social obligation to stay at the party giving Star and Asha the time they need, until Magnifico breaks up the party because he is a jerk.
These are just a few ideas for the time being and I will definitely post and maybe storyboard more. Have a great day!
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rat---king · 15 days
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Hey, big fan of Legally Blonde over here. How did I not realize EMMETT FROM THE BROADWAY SOUNDTRACK IS VOX
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thewilddoghaunts · 3 months
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Me: God damn it, I knew you were gonna pull this. You can't leave me alone.
Val: You're the one that kept coming around looking, amorcito.
Me: You're here too?? Are you fucking kidding me???
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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v. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder
"THAT SLAG!"
Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.
"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.
In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.
"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"
He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"
Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.
"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."
"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.
"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.
Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."
"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"
Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."
"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"
"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"
"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.
"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."
"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.
Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.
"Who's this?" she quipped.
"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."
Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.
"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"
"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.
"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."
"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.
A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."
"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.
Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."
.
"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.
Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.
"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.
Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.
Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.
"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.
The radio rumbled with delight at your response.
"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.
"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.
"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.
"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.
"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"
"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”
"Ah, but that's why you love me."
Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.
With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.
I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?
As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.
"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.
For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through
Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.
I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new
Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.
With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.
"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."
"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."
In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.
As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.
Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.
"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.
"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.
"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."
You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.
"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.
"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"
You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.
"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.
"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.
And there it was.
"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"
"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."
"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."
"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"
Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.
"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.
Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.
No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 
Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.
With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.
Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.
Your matchbox wasn't there.
Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.
Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.
"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.
You eyed him skeptically for a moment.
In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.
Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.
Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.
"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.
"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.
"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"
"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."
His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."
Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.
"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.
"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."
"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.
Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.
"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."
"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."
"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.
"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.
"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.
"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."
A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.
"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."
Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.
"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."
Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.
A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.
"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."
You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."
"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.
As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.
Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.
Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.
A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.
"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.
"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.
"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.
"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."
You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.
"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.
Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 
Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.
"Oh, you cheese…"
With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.
Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.
Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.
Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.
What in hell was that?
Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.
Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.
Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.
A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.
But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.
The TV Demon, Vox.
His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.
"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"
Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.
"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.
"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.
Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.
"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.
"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.
"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.
"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.
"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."
"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"
"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"
Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"
"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"
"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"
Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"
Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"
"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"
The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.
"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.
"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"
As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.
.
Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 
Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.
With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.
Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.
If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.
"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"
Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.
"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.
Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.
"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.
"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.
"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.
"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."
You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.
"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"
Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.
Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.
Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.
As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality
Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.
Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.
"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."
The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.
"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."
Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.
"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.
"Please let me kill for you."
Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.
A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.
A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.
"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.
There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."
.
Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.
A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?
A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.
It must be love.
With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.
"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."
Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.
"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.
With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.
The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"
You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.
A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.
"What is the meaning of this?" 
Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.
"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"
With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.
With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.
"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."
"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."
"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.
Pretty Dolly Heart.
Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.
The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.
"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"
Your blood ran cold with fear.
"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.
Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.
"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.
With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.
A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.
"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.
With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.
Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.
Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.
"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."
3K notes · View notes
popamolly · 2 months
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៸៸ ﹟YOU’RE A PERVERT!
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HAZBIN HOTEL CHARACTERS and perverted/kinky acts they love to do.
characters. Charlie, Lute, Husk, Alastor, Lucifer, Vox, Valentino, Adam
warnings. fem!reader, vouyerism, vibrator, dildo, Valentino exists, dacryphilia, kinky stuff, smut, 18+ minors dni, degradation, praise if you squint
author’s note. should i have written for sir pentious? are people even attracted to him? lmk. as well as for anymore characters you would like to see with this prompt, i could always make a part two. don’t forget that my ask box is still OPEN! make sure you read the rules before you submit anything. enjoy sinners <3
𖤐 MASTERLIST
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CHARLIE loves your voice. If she had missed your call, which she usually never does unless she is extremely busy, you would always leave her a sweet voicemail. Voicemails that she keeps to masturbate to later. Charlie didn’t know exactly when it started but she did know that she couldn’t stop. The way her fingertips would glide across her sensitive folds and rub against her clit, she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as she clutches her phone against her ear desperate to her your voicemail as if you were right there. She could imagine your face, your breath against her neck, and how your hands would move to please her. This was silly, Charlie knew that but whenever you two were separated she found that this was a way to feel closer to you. “I know you’re busy ruling Hell and whatnot Charlie, but I just wanted to check in on you! I’ve been running some errands but I should be home around—!” Your voice from the voicemail recording sounded as if you were right there, talking Charlie through it. Her fingers were working on herself faster because she was just so so close, “—anyways what do you want for dinner? I’ll call you back!” And if the voicemail ended before her sweet release, all she had to do was press replay.
HUSK likes to grope you whenever he gets the chance. You helping him clean glasses? Just a causal breast grab. You standing up on your tip toes to put away some alcohol on the top shelf? He’d squeeze your plump round ass. And Satan forbid you from bending down in front of him to pick something up. He just loved everything about you and he couldn’t keep his hands off. “Husk baby, can you hand me that whiskey bottle?” You asked sweetly, as you stood on a ladder. “Of course.” He grabbed your ass after handing you the alcohol. Could you blame him? It was practically on full display. Husk squeezed and kneaded the plump flesh with a stoic look in his face, as if what he was doing was simply a natural instinct, “Husk!”
ALASTOR would be the type to spy on you from the shadows of your hotel room while you play with yourself. Whether you knew he was there or not, Alastor enjoyed the sight of you fucking yourself with the toy he had gifted to you as a silly joke, but watching your greedy pussy suck in the dildo while moaning his name, maybe it wasn’t a joke after all. He felt his pants growing tight at the sight of you and he wanted nothing more than to pounce on you and fuck you senseless until your throat was raw from screaming the Radio Demon’s name but for now he would watch, “Go ahead, my little doe. Cum for me,” He’d whisper.
VOX would watch the videos he made of him fucking you on his big computer screens whenever he was bored. He didn’t need to jerk off to the sex tape when all he had to do was find wherever you were and fuck you where you stood, oh no, he just liked to watch the videos for fun. He liked seeing your tear stained face on the big screen, whimpering and begging for him to continue to fuck you harder— deeper. The close up of your pussy from the shaky camera video had him groaning. Your ass bounced back on him as he fucked you doggystyle, the lewd sounds of sex filling the room in such a way that it was nothing but a sweet melody in Vox’s ear. You were made for video and he wished he could share that with the world. “Vox! Come here! I have to show you something!” You called from the other room. Vox clicked out of the video with a satisfied smile, “Coming!”
VALENTINO likes to pleasure you in public with a vibrator. This kinky bastard gets off on you trying to hide and cover your moans whenever you are socializing with your coworkers. With the remote in hand that controls the intensity Valentino loves to toy with the buttons, turning it up and down teasingly just to see your legs shake and practically turn to jelly. He would edge you, denying your orgasm until you were both in his room alone but for now? Oh it was just fun watching you squirm. “Ah!” You would whimper, practically grinding yourself into Valentino’s lap while hiding your face in the crook of his neck just as Vox raises an eyebrow in question, stopping his explanation. To that Valentino waves his hand dismissively, “(Y/N), just isn’t feeling too well. Please continue.”
LUCIFER loves to steal your panties. He uses them whenever you aren’t home or out working at the Hotel with Charlie. The way he had gotten fixated on this was purely by accident and obviously your fault. He saw your panties next to his bed— tossed to the side and forgotten by a passionate night of love making no doubt and he couldn’t help but take a sniff or two. Then a deep inhale that had his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he hungrily licked the spot where your pussy would’ve been snug against the fabric. Before he knew it he had your panties wrapped around his aching cock to help him jerk off, and when he came, it was a lot. He was left whimpering, shaking, and bewildered on what he had just done but it was already too late. It became an addiction and now he steals your panties to jerk off. “Lulu, have you seen my underwear? the yellow lacey ones? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.” You ask. “Hmm? Maybe you misplaced them dear, did you check the wash?” Lucifer simply shrugs, looking away from you to continue reading his book. Little did you know that those exact panties were in his pocket right now.
ADAM would be the same as Alastor, only difference is he would sit in front of you while you play with yourself. He would have a front row seat to your shaking legs and dripping wet pussy, all the while making you beg for him. He loved to tease you, to see how far you were willing to go to prove to him that you needed him, “What was that baby? You said you need my massive cock inside you?” Adam would taunt, “I can’t hear you. Open your legs for me.” His fingertips parted your legs as you were getting too lost in the pleasure to keep them fully open. “Mm—! A-Adam! Please! I want you..!” You moaned, head thrown back against the plush pillows. “Oh yeah? Beg for me some more then, hm?”
LUTE loves to watch you choke on her strap on. There is just something about the way your glossy eyes looked up at her. Between that and the sound of you choking due to the tip hitting the back of your throat, it was enough for the Angel to want to do nothing but sinful acts to you all night. Lute would hold on to the back of your head and face fuck you, forcing your jaw to go slack and take everything she was giving you as your saliva escaped the corners of your mouth and dripped onto your breast and the floor. She would talk dirty to you in such a way that your pussy would begin to ache for her touch. “You like this plastic dick don’t you? That’s a good fucking whore, take it.”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.
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danveration · 3 months
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Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow
Parings: Creepy!Vox x GN!reader
Summary: Vox is obsessed with you and he uses his VoxTek to stalk you
Word count: 1437
Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, one mention of Vox getting a hard-on, Vox being delusional, jealousy, k*lling, Vox jerking off
A/N: First time writing for Vox!! I got this idea from some amazing person on discord:’) I immediately went insane w the idea and had to write it up
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“I can’t get them out of my HEAD!” He yells angrily, banging his fists on the table.
Valentino and Velvet have noticed his behaviour towards you and tried to talk sense into him.
“They’re nothing special, Vox! Just another sinner. Get over them.”
“You tell us to not ruin our reputation but look at you. You’re a mess.”
“Maybe just.. go talk to them? Instead of being a fucking creep.”
Vox doesn’t listen. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7 and who you’re doing it with. He has cameras set up everywhere. In your room, bathroom, hotel (as you’re currently living at the hazbin hotel), the street lights. Absolutely everywhere. He doesn’t want to meet you just yet, not until he learns everything about you so he can charm you off your feet.
You don’t even know him. You’ve heard of him through hell, yes. But you’ve never actually seen him face to face. Alastor has told you all that he isn’t anything to worry about, in which you believe him. Apparently he owns all the electronics in hell or something like that? You’ve seen posters of him and you think it’s kinda neat how he has a full on tv head as a face. But other than that, you never gave much thought to him.
———————————————————————
Today was just another day. You woke up, took a shower, went downstairs to have breakfast, and hung out at the hotel. Nothing of which you thought anything of, it’s just a normal boring day.
But Vox on the other hand thought differently. He thought everything you did was the most exciting, interesting thing ever.
“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck, they’re waking up.” He says, getting closer to one of the MANY tv screens he has in this room.
He looks at you in awe, touching the tv screen gently.
“So fucking cute when they’re waking up. Look at them, my god.” He whispers.
He watches you as you get out of bed, yawning. Watches you get undressed, and into the shower.
“Such a perfect body. I’d treat you so right. Better than anyone else could.” He says as he watches you wash yourself. He feels himself get a hard-on, but ignores it. He needs to have all his attention on you.
Watching you shower, learning your routine and what product you use, he stores all the information in one of his computer folders.
After you get out, he watches you choose what clothing to wear.
“Aww, that’s my favourite top on you.” He says in awe.
Then, you go downstairs to eat and hangout with your fellow hotel members.
Vox knows all your favourite foods and least favourite foods, to when you come over to live with him one day. He wants everything to be perfect. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
“You’re gonna haaavee..” He starts while you’re picking out what to eat.
“Fruit with cereal!” He shouts just as you pick it up.
“HAHA! Fucking knew it.” He says.
After you eat, he watches you interact with people.
He hates it. Hates when you talk to other people. What if they get too close to you? What if you like them more than him? So many thoughts cross his mind.
“Oh don’t you dare talk to-“ He starts while you’re walking up to Alastor.
You start talking to Alastor about something and Vox’s eye twitches.
He remains keeping his cool, but inside he wants to march over there and take you away. But he can’t do that, can he? That would be a horrible first impression! Even though he’s sure you’d fall for him in no time, he can’t risk it.
Right now, you’re sitting on a chair, scrolling through your phone.
Of course, Vox has hacked your phone too. He has another tv in which he can see exactly what you see.
He’s intently watching you play Angry Birds, when an ad comes up. Not just any ad, but a VoxTek ad.
You’re intrigued because this is the “Vox” you’ve heard of. You click it and Vox almost falls over.
“OH MY GOD. YOU-“ He scrambles to get as close as possible to the screen.
You start scrolling through the VoxTek website. It seems pretty cool, honestly. There’s a lot of “Trust us.” quotes, which you find kinda suspicious. But nonetheless, you’ve been wanting a new laptop since yours broke a while back. Why not give it a go?
You find a good priced laptop that actually seems like it’ll work really well, so you decided to buy it online.
Vox’s eyes widen.
“YOU- I-“ He stares in shock. You bought something from HIS website. You KNOW about him, it’s confirmed now.
He has the great idea to hand-deliver you the laptop. That’s a great first impression isn’t it?
He jumps up and goes to put on his best outfit. Making sure he looks 11/10. He cleans his screen, puts a mint in his mouth, and walks to the room where they keep all their product, finding the one you ordered.
He looks to his right, seeing the one you ordered, but then he looks down and sees one that’s 10x the money you paid for that one, and it’s their BEST laptop. It has so many features that he knows you’ll use. It’s their most high end product. He’s gotta give you that one instead. You deserve it.
He picks it up and puts it into a box, sealing it and putting a nice red bow on it. He kisses it and walks out.
“Vox? Where are you going? You’re looking quite fancy.” Valentino stops him as he’s about to walk out of the building.
“Oh nowhere!” Vox answers as he walks out. He doesn’t want Val to give him a hard time about this.
Val looks in question, but just walks off.
As Vox is walking to the hotel, he’s rehearsing his lines.
“Ah! Y/n. Hello there, I’m here to give you your laptop.” He mumbles. “No that sounds so fucking.. Hi, Y/n! Here’s your laptop.”
He mumbles a bunch of fraises when finally, he arrives on the doorstep.
He adjusts his bow tie and takes a deep breathe, knocking on the door.
You perk up at a knock on the door, you’re the only one at the hotel right now, other than Niffty. You go to answer it, wondering who it’ll be.
As you open the door, Vox’s heart stops.
It’s.. Vox? That tv guy! That’s weird, you literally just ordered a laptop from his site about 20 minutes ago.
He’s staring at you, mouth open.
“Uh.. hello?” You say with a questionable tone.
“Oh! Oh, shit. Hi! I’m here to hand deliver you that laptop you ordered.” He chuckles. “Well, actuallyyy, I got you a better one.” He whispers that last part.
You’re very confused. Do they hand deliver every laptop that someone buys?
“Oh um.. thank you! Thanks a lot.” You say, reaching out to take the box.
“Oh of course!” He says with a smile, handing it over to you.
“Do you like the bow? I picked it out just for you, Y/n.” He says.
You feel a weird sensation in your stomach when he says your name. How’d he..? I guess you have to put your name in the website when you order it. So that’s probably how he knows your name!
“Oh yeah! It’s.. a great bow.” You chuckle awkwardly.
You stand their in silence as he’s looking at you, seemingly so to be admiring you.
He realizes this is probably weird for you and takes a step back.
“Well! Haha. It was nice to meet you.” He says with a smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake.
Adjusting the box to hold it with one hand, you take your other one and shake his hand. As you do, you feel an electric shock.
“S-sorry about that.” He says, pulling his hand away.
“Oh it’s alright, don’t worry!” You answer, finding it kinda interesting.
Vox’s internal monologue is screaming. He just TOUCHED your hand. He’s never washing this hand. Ever.
He doesn’t want to leave but he knows he overstayed his welcome. It doesn’t matter though, he will see you again soon. There will be more meetings, more and more and more until you beg to see him.
“Cya, Y/n!” He waves at you, walking away with a satisfied smile.
“Bye!” You say, walking inside.
He goes home and jerks off to the hand you touched, moaning your name and cumming all over himself.
He’s got it bad for you.
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confessioncassette · 1 month
Text
𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫, 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐕𝐨𝐱 & 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨
𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤/𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞/𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞
𝐭𝐰 : 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰
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Lucifer :
𐕣 Has a pretty milky skin color with a rose gold tip. When he’s throbbing it turns darker
𐕣 Perfect length at 8 inches that curves slightly upward when hard. Normal girth with a pretty vein that runs underneath along his shaft.
𐕣 Golden pubes for sure. I believe his pubes would be trimmed down and neatly groomed - clean and ready for you whenever.
𐕣 When aroused, pretty little beads of precum decorate his tip. He would have a normal amount of wetness, enough to slick his cock easily when jerking off/getting ready to enter you.
𐕣 Loves to tease you with his cock head. Signature move would be rubbing his tip over your clit a few times before entering you.
𐕣 Pleasure dom. Would touch you all over, whisper and lick your ear… make you feel loved and caressed all over. But will have control of everything you do. Definitely into treating you like a baby
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Alastor :
𐕣 He’d have a girthy fucking cock. 8.5 inches with a little more girth at the bottom of his shaft.
𐕣 Reddish tip. His cock head perfectly portioned to the girth of his cock
𐕣 His dick wouldn’t curve much, stands pretty straight when hard.
𐕣 Would be a powerhouse when drilling into you, opening you up. He loves to watch his fat cock enter your body then look up at your face when he stretches you open.
𐕣 Wet. So wet. Precum oozes off of him and he uses this to an advantage. Would smear his slick over your cheek, your lips, would lube himself up if he feels nice enough. Otherwise he likes to force his way inside with no foreplay.
𐕣 Pretty neat pubes. He takes care of himself. They would be longer than Lucifer’s but trimmed.
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Vox :
𐕣 he would be a tad smaller but still at a lovely 7 inches.
𐕣 His cock beautifully curves upwards - and hits that spot inside you every time.
𐕣 No pubes. Literally clean shaven and shaved every morning in the shower. No, he doesn’t get razor burn.
𐕣 pretty blue tip with big balls. Absolutely loves when you play with him. His body twitches when you do.
𐕣 His dick gets real wet, especially when you suck on his shaft and take his balls in your mouth. Man would be dripping in precum.
𐕣 Loves when you suck his tip to clean him off and prefers when you place kisses along his shaft.
𐕣 Don’t let this fool you because he is very into power play.
𐕣 Very much into edging. Will watch you cry and cry until your body can’t handle it. You’ll end up having an orgasm before he says so- he’ll use this to punish you.
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Valentino :
𐕣 Looooong ass cock but skinnier. 9 inches with a purple cockhead and pinkish around the slit
𐕣 Slightly curved upward for your pleasure.
𐕣 Pubes are straight bush. He doesn’t shave but he’s clean. He could care less if you gag on it, it won’t suck itself, you know?
𐕣 will lay back and smoke a cigarette while you try to force his cock down your throat. And once you do, he’ll surprise you by shoving your head down to watch you gag.
𐕣 he doesn’t get very wet, but he will use your own slick to coat his cock before he enters you.
𐕣 Not much for foreplay or pleasuring you, he’ll lay back as you ride him. Hell spread his legs for you as you do all the work. He’ll blow smoke at your face and watch you through his glasses as you be a good girl and pleasure him.
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angelltheninth · 3 months
Text
Belle of the Ball
Pairing: Vox x Fem!Reader x Valentino
Tags: fluff, abuse, first meeting, dancing, flirting, inspired by Cinderella, shy!Reader to flirty!Reader
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: Fic commission for @massivementalitynut. Thank you for your support!
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If you got caught now you would be in so much trouble with your family. But whatever they had in store for you couldn't be worse then the things they already put you through. It was so ironic that for the first time you felt like you were alive was while you were in the literal pits of Hell.
This party was your escape from them. You put on the best dress you had, you wanted to go out and have a good time, you wanted to get out of your shell. Was it dangerous for you? Yes, but you've dealt with many jerks in your life, you could handle yourself.
The club was dim, loud, filled with so many sweet scents. It almost made you dizzy. You wanted to let loose, to dance. You just needed a dance partner. Before you could spot someone you felt four pairs of hands on your body, two on your hips and two on your shoulders. When you turned your head up you saw two red eyes behind tinted heart-shaped glasses looking down at you. This demon seemed familiar but you couldn't remember the name. He lead you to the dance floor, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.
"Such a lovely lady shouldn't be alone tonight." His smooth voice pierced to your ears through all the music. "I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?"
"Not exactly." You didn't want to sound meek in front of him. "Maybe you haven't been looking hard enough."
"I always remember pretty faces." One of his hands cupped your cheek and he bent down, "Yours is quite a sight." His teeth shone in the light, along with what looked like to be wings behind him? You thought that was a coat or a cape.
He dipped his head further down, the scent of smoke around him coiling around you too.
"Val! What the fuck are you up to now?!" Another demon pushed through the crowd, a TV demon who you did know the name of. Vox the TV demon, one of the VVV, which meant that Val was... Valentino?! You just flirted with the king of the porn industry. "And uh... who is this?"
You felt put on the spot between them. "I... I'm sorry... I didn't know... please... I just wanted to forget some things tonight. I'm not looking for trouble with the VVVs."
"Ah, the poor thing is shaking like a leaf. Vox, sweetheart, you shouldn't scare the ones. This is why I'm the only one who fucks you." Their conversation didn't sound like fighting, more like playful banter, with Valentino's voice getting more seductive with each words. His hands were still on you, keeping your body against his taller one.
Vox stepped in close to you and tilted your head towards his TV screen. He was sizing you up and down for a few moments before smirking at you and wrapping his own arms around your back. "I can't say Val doesn't have good taste."
Now that they both seemed to take a liking to you it was easier to relax around them. Also knowing you weren't intruding on someone's relationship. The last thing you were looking for was trouble. Valentino cupped your face as you started to dance, his finger rubbing the bruise on your jaw. It didn't hurt anymore but when someone was close they could tell easily.
Vox noticed it too, his attention drawn by Valentino's hand.
"I hope he has good taste. I'm here to have fun tonight and it seems like I picked the right guys." You sneaked your arms up to Vox's shoulders, with the TV demon being closer to your height then Valentino who towered over almost everyone in the club.
"If you want a good time sweetheart, you're in for more then a sweet thing you can handle." Valentino's lips finally pressed against yours, he tasted almost sickeningly sweet on your tongue. "Very delicious." His voice made your body shiver, in a good way, which was a novelty to you.
Vox's hands started moving your hips with the music, "Relax. You're a bit too tense. You can't have a good time with something weighing on your mind." The TV demon seemed to see through your troubles. "Trust us we heard it all. Shitty friends, shitty family, shitty lovers. And Val and I, well we can make all of that go away for tonight."
It didn't matter if it was only one night. That was all you needed. You were in good hands, where Valentino was rough, Vox was gentle, when Valentino degraded, Vox praised you, where you couldn't move anymore you could watch them until they got tired and slipped beside you in their bed.
Neither commented on the scars and bruises that covered your body. You didn't have to hide them.
But you also couldn't stay. You already overstayed your welcome. You needed to get home before your family woke up. In your rush you forgot to take your phone, but that was the last thing you were worried about. You had no idea that it would be your saving grace.
"Our new little toy left so soon?" Valentino cooked a pot of coffee for himself and Vox. "Such a shame. She was so fun." He licked his lips with his long tongue, pink drool dripping down his chin.
"You can't keep everyone under you Val." But Vox didn't deny how much fun he had with you. "Hey. Did you notice..."
"The bruises? Of course I did. Which is why I'm considering finding the poor thing. She seemed to have real talent, wasted on who ever she's living with that's treating her like shit." His wings wrapped back around his and Vox's naked bodies. "Feel like doing a little digging on our little runaway?" He glanced at your phone, a blue spark flying from it shortly after.
You managed to get home in time, luckily. However that didn't stop your family from speculating.
"What's got you looking so tired today?" Your dad asked as you brought him his breakfast. You flinched at the accusatory tone in his voice.
"I didn't get much sleep, that's all." It wasn't actually a lie, but the circumstances of it were. Hopefully your mom and dad wouldn't pry too much.
You passed by your mom, hoping to get by easily. "Your wrists. There are new marks on them. You didn't have those last night." You tried to hide them, the handcuff marks, but your sleeves were just shy too short. "Who put these on you?" The cold in your mom's voice made you back up.
"Uhm... I..." How do you lie about this? You didn't own handcuffs.
"You snuck out, didn't you?"
"I-" The back of your moms hand collided with your cheek, sending you to the floor. You could taste blood on your tongue, again but you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing it's there.
"Lying little bitch. Even in Hell we still take care of you. And this is how you repay us? By whoring yourself out to demons on the street?" You looked for a possible exist strategy. You never lied to your parents before, you never had the guts to. "You could have at least gotten payed for it."
An all too familiar invaded your nose as soon as your dad steeped towards you, "She left before we could pay her. But you won't see any of that money." Valentino's wings eclipsed the entrance to your home, his eyes gleaming red and his cigar emitting smoke. He had a quite lax posture for the scene before him, which might mean he saw it before.
Vox on the other hand made a much more flashy entrance. Appearing from the TV itself, head first them the rest of him and straightening his suit. "And she'd make bank too if last night was any indication."
You quickly ran to hide behind him.
"The VVVs... how do you know our..." Valentino shushed your dad by smacking him with his wing.
"How doesn't matter, little man. You'll be happy to know that you no longer need to bother with her. I... we... will be taking her under our care from now on. How about it sweetheart?" The pink smoke wrapped around your body again, soothing over every visible bruise. "Good. Come along now."
Vox placed his arm on the small of your back as you passed your parents who dared not to raise their voice against the two Overlords. "Our crew will be here for her things."
"How did you find me?" You whispered when you caught up to Valentino.
"Your parents. There's a tracker in your phone that leads to theirs. It was easy for Vox to track. Don't worry your pretty little head about them anymore darling, they can't touch you when you're with us."
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Note
Hello, can we have Blitzø, Husk, Rosie, Sir Pentious and Valentino(separately) as a couple, it seems that he is cheating on him but in the end it turned out that they misunderstood him, how would they react to his mistake with his S/O?
Misunderstanding
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Blitzø
Blitzø sat in his van, as he had for the past hour, a scowl across his face.
He'd followed you from the Cafe you always went too, then after seeing you on the phone he followed you all the way to some random ass fucking building.
He watched as you knocked, the door opening to reveal some Imp hunk, and you eagerly greeting the guy before walking in, you wrapping an arm around each other.
He was pissed.
But not just regular pissed.
He was Royally Pissed!
But more than that... he was hurt. Really hurt.
The Imp drove home depressed. Anger. Fury. Sadness and regret all sloshing around in him like too much BeelzaBrew. The Imp analysing your entire relationship.
He thought you had a happy relationship. Sure you fought, but it was never anything serious. And you always had the best Make up sex.
He drove around, with no real aim, his body on auto pilot. Just driving. Mindlessly. Completely unsure what to do.
He'd go home, of course after stopping by a drive through liquor stire, the man stumbling into your shared apartment, the man walking in before freezing.
Your calendar...
Marked on the calender was fucking (ANNIVERSARY). And sure enough, checking his phone, it was today.
Blitzø had a full breakdown, drunkenly crying as he curled up on the couch, the poor Imp crying his eyes out between heavy swigs of alcohol.
About an hour would pass until you got home, suspiciously large package in your arms.
You snuck into the apartment, getting everything set up until you found him curled up on the couch, the man grasping a bottle, with even more scattered about, the man sadly blubbering to himself.
Youd approach him, reaching out. "Babe, are you alright?"
He'd slap your hand away, man jerking up on the couch, the man glaring big sad daggers at you.
"Well, if it isn't the big faaaaat cheater!"
He was clearly drunk off his ass, so the accusation of cheating wasn't as painful as if he were sober.
He'd stumble to his feet, jabbing his finger at you. Or rather, in your general direction.
The Man was drunk off his ass.
"Ooooh yeah. Everybody thinks the Blitzø is some sorta, Uh... dumbass man!" He burped, man snifling. "But iiiiim noo a foul..."
You give him a minute, ignoring his verbal typos, before reaching out again, telling him gently.
"Blitzø. I think you need to sleep off your little drinking session before we talk."
But as soon as you placed a hand on his shoulder, he'd smack it away, and with the most righteous fury you'd ever seen in the man, screamed at you.
"I FUCKING SAW YOU WITH HIM!"
The man stumbling back tears in his eyes. "I saw you with that fucking bastard... I saw... I saw you..."
You stood there for a good minute before sighing, you telling him softly. "Wait here."
Youd walk into the kitchen, flipping the light on to reveal the humble spread you'd put out. And grabbing the 'package' carried it over to him.
The large 'package' was covered by a cloth, you placing it down before him, telling him simply.
"Open it."
Blitzø stared at you before looking down at the package, the man glaring daggers at you before reaching out and snatching the cloth off of it.
It revealed a magnificent portrait of Blitzø, the Imp riding a Hell-Stallion.
Blitzø's eyes bulged, the man staring dead at it for a solid minute, the man not even noticing himself dropping the bottle.
Youd set down, pulling him into the seat besides you, you taking his hands in yours.
Holding his hands you'd tell him softly. "The man you saw was an art teacher. I've been seeing him to learn how to paint."
You spoke slowly, making sure he heard you.
"I know we don't normally go big on Anniversary gifts, but I wanted to do something special, so I took some lessons so I could paint that for you."
Blitzø took a minute, looking between you and the painting before he burst into tears, the man pressing his face into your chest as he tearfully apologised.
"IIIII'mmm soooo soooorrrryyy!" He sobbed, drunkenly clinging onto you.
"I- I- I- didn't mean to!" He stuttered, blubbering. Youd just hold him close, gently patting his back as he sobbed into your chest.
You just soothed the poor man, hugging him close as he had his drunken meltdown.
He'd quickly cry himself out, soaking your shirt and apologising all the while, you just telling him it was alright, gently patting his back.
Eventually he'd pass out, man out like the dead, you carrying your drunken idiot of a S/O to bed, making sure to be prepared fortyhe inevitable hangover.
And sure enough, the next morning Blitzø endured a awful hangover, though even as he groaned and threw up he was still profusely apologising, the man feeling even worse when he saw the painting and everything you'd set up for him.
Of course, you didn't care, you were just happy the situation was resolved peacefully, you tending to your poor idiot of an S/O. Letting him curl up with you on the couch as he slept off his hangover, making sure he drank plenty of water, hand running down his spiky, bald dome of a head.
Husk
Husk felt miserable.
And the most surprising part about it, was that he was miserable.
Since you'd arrived at the hotel, he'd been in significantly better spirits. But for the past couple weeks you'd been disappearing for long swaths of time, often staying out till later in the evening.
Husk wasn't an idiot.
And while he did try to drown himself in alcohol, knowing fully well he couldn't die of liver failure.
Though he had lowered his drinking significantly since your arrival into his life, the man actually, and it was hard to say but, you'd made him a better man.
But he wasn't a stupid man.
Back when he actually cared about people, he'd been cheated on plenty, though that may have been mostly his fault as he'd always put too much attention on his drink, rather then those people he cared about. Something he had tried to change with you.
But you still found someone better...
He wasn't surprised. The drunk of a tomcat was a poor excuse of a partner.
He'd be slumped over the bar, as usual, drunkenly grumbling to himself, man downing a bottle of what he hoped wasn't paint thinner as he laid there in his drunken brooding.
The man grumbled, rubbing his eyes as tears stung his eyes, the man wondering what was wrong with him.
Why did he always lose everyone he loved?
Youd walk into the Hotel, approaching the man, in relatively good spirits. Seeing him splayed out, drunkenly grumbling to himself, you grew curious.
Walking over, youd pull up a stool, you sitting there for a long minute before you started getting concerned, so you reached out, placing your hand on his.
Husk jerked up, you jumping back in surprise.
Husk stared at you, you asking him simply.
"You alright babe?"
Husk just stared for a long, pregnant moment. Before looking away, the man sighing as he slumped forwards, man wiping his face.
He'd stand there for a fee moments, not looking at you, only for him to ask bluntly.
"What did I do...?"
You stared at him, not sure I'd you'd heard him correctly, so you asked.
"You alright-" though you didn't get to finish as he blurted out.
"What did I do?!" He snapped, man almost in tears. "What did I do? What did I fuck up?!?!"
You stared at him, genuinely unsure of what was happening.
Youd wrap your hand around his, asking him bluntly.
"What are you on about baby? What did you do?"
Hunker diiiiidnt like that response.
The man yanking his hand out of your grasp, whipping away from you, the man wiping his eyes.
"What did I do?!" He snapped. "Why wasn't I good enough for you?!"
At that things slowly started to connect.
"Baby... do you think I'm cheating on you?"
Husk paused, thinking 9ver your tmstatement before turning and staring at you.
"Your... not cheating on me?" He asked, the cat caught of guard.
You, with a gentle smile, shook your head, telling him. "Nooo baby, I'm not. I'd never cheat on you."
Husk stood there for a moment before bringing up your regular absences, the long stretches you'd spend out of the hotel.
To which you'd sigh.
After a moment, taking your seat, you'd tell him that you weren't cheating. You explained that you'd just met an exe from before you'd died. You weren't sleeping with them, but you had been spending time with them.
Not for sex but just... just to remember when you were alive. When life was good and you were in your prime, back on earth.
You apologised for keeping it a secret. It was selfish but it was kind of your escape from the constant shittyness that littered Hell, something to block out the horrors you witnessed on the daily.
You apologised for hiding it. Holding his hand tight as you sincerely apologised for not telling him.
Youd tearfully tell him you loved him, and that you were so sorry for making him think you didn't.
At this point it'd be a completely intoxicated Husker that would comfort you, the man pulling you into a hug. A hug you'd eagerly accept, you tearfully promising to never make him feel like that again.
Pulling him close before you'd share a kiss.
Said kiss would grow rapidly passionate, you eventually ending up behind the bar, you straddling the cat, the two of you pulling off manoeuvres that would make Angel Blush.
And in the end, all worked up and steamy, you'd curl up with each other behind the bar, the Kitty cat holding you close as you drifted off to sleep.
Needless to say it was awkward when Charlie found you both the next morning.
The situation not helped by Angel whining about missing out on the whole thing.
But with your tomcat close by, the both of you sharing a blush as you all pretended what had most definitely happened, did not happen, well, at least you had each other.
Rosie
Rosie wasn't one to beat around the bush.
She'd wait for you at the entrance to your home, the Amazonian sized demoness, sat back in one of her beautiful sitting chairs, the sort you'd find in a Victorian manor, just waiting for you, teacup in hand.
And upon walking into your shared home, shed confront you.
"Well Hello darling, you've been out a while."
She spoke coldly, you immediately knowing you were in the shit.
With a timid smile you'd begin. "Hello dear, your up late!" You spoke, trying to hide your rapidly growing anxiety.
Rosie didn't lighten up, the lady in red telling you bluntly. "You smell like cigarettes." He leaned back, a scowl crossing her face. "And you reek of alcohol."
He'd place her cup down, frowning deeply, black pools glaring at you.
"Where have you been (Y/N)?"
Your face would contort into an awkward smile, you scratching your kneck as you released an awkward laugh.
She didn't laugh.
Instead Asking bluntly.
"Why are you laughing!?" She snapped. "You think this is some kind of joke?!"
"Running around, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, returning at all hours of the night." She snapped before looking away, growling out. "Do I mean so little too you?"
At that you snapped to attention, gawking for a second before blurting.
"You think I'm cheating?!"
You blurted, rushing over to her.
"Baby! Sweetie! Love of my eternally damned afterlife." You reached out, cupping her cheek. "I am not cheating on you."
Rosie staring down at you, asking gently.
"Then what are you doing? Why are you out at night? Why do you reek like cigarettes and alcohol. Why have you been so secretive before disappearing all night?"
At that you sighed, nodding your head.
"Rose, my love, I have a confession." You began, running a thumb over her cheek. "Put simply, I can't drink any more tea."
You sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted.
"What?" Rosie asked, clearly bewildered.
"Rosie my love, I love you. I love our home. And the aesthetic. And all the pottery and plating and all that stuff. But well, I've been going to a sports bar."
Rosie paused, clearly confused.
"Baby, I miss TVs. I miss modern, mass produced comfy couches. I miss the depleted unsustainable economy of a life you probably never saw."
"I miss cheap beer and overly salty peanuts and wings smothered in addictive sauce." You sighed, almost shuddering.
Rosie sat there for a moment, clearly confused before asking bluntly.
"If thats all it is, then why all the secrey darling?"
You gave another awkward smile, scratching your head. "Well, I know you don't like the 'false decadence of a unurned age of self indulgent walfwits', and I don't want you to, I don't know. I didn't want you to feel like I was choosing the cheap, crapy food and drink over you."
You finished solemnly, looking to the floor.
Rosie, seeing this sighed, reaching out before pulling you in close. "I'm sorry for thinking you were cheating darling."
You chuckled, telling her in turn. "And I'm sorry for not telling you darling. I promise, I'll be more honest from now on."
Rosie chuckled, and you leaned in for a kiss.
Before your lips met however, she pressed a finger to your lips, telling you bluntly.
"I'm not kissing you while your breath stinks of beer and cigarettes."
To which you broke into laughter, stumbling to your knees, head in her lap, giggling away.
"I love you Rose baby~" You purred, looking up at her.
Rosie just smiled back, running her hand through your hair.
"I love you too darling... even if you are an idiot."
The both of you breaking into laughter, you simply laying there, a pleasant mood filling the air.
Sir Pentious
Pentious was a mess.
Bottles of wine were strewn about his airships sitting room, the snake man sobbing as he drunkenly gulped wine from a bottle.
He'd wipe his face, forearm already soaked through with tears.
"Why doth you need to be a loutous betrayer!" He yelled.
It was perhaps his most unique quirk. The man liking to incorrectly imitate old Shakespearian speech when drunk, often saying thing that sounded almost right, but most certainly weren't.
Hed lay there, wallowing in self pity for who knows how long until you'd finally find him. Having searched the house you'd find the empty wine rack, already knowing something was wrong.
And while you'd already checked every place in the manor before, the trail of wine bottles had given his 'sactuary' away.
Youd knock on the steel door before gently sliding it open.
"Hello dear..." You began, staring at the wiggling mass of snake that splaid out before you. "Is everything alright?" You asked softly.
The snake snapped towards you, grabbing you, before throwing you onto the fainting couch he had splaid out.
Youd blush as he drunkenly scowled.
"Ooooooh~ like you don't know!" He drunkenly slurred. "Like you don't know why I'm drinking, you and that *hic* man... that bastard you've been seeing."
To which you'd stare at him, blushing as he leered over you.
Rubbing your face, you'd sigh, leaning forwards and gently cupping his face.
"Penty... he's a tailor." You sighed softly. "I'd never cheat on you."
You finished, but the snake simply stared at you for several moments, processing.
"Tailor... but what about all the... well I saw you undress?" He stated, conflicted.
Youd sigh, gently slipping out from under him ast you stepped out of the room.
Pentious would gulp down the rest of his bottle before you stepped in.
Youd be wearing a rather skimpy, of seductive, version of his outfit. The piece just covering enough to be seen in public, though obviously meant for the bedroom.
"I uh, I thought it'd be fun for... ya know... the bedroom~"
Pentious, red faced, smirked. His body recoiled, priming for a strike, and with the finesse of a heavily intoxicated snake, he snatching you up once more, throwing you onto his bundles up tail, his long lower form gripping you, holding you down.
"Well... I guess I've got to punish you~" He purred, leaning in.
"P-punish me?" You stuttered, face flushed as the man pinned your arms above your head.
Pentious smirking, face flushed lightly as he leaned in, hot breath on your neck as he purred.
"Of coursssssse~" she hissed, tongue flicking your neck. "You run around, scaring me to death~ Making me think the worst. "
His hands ran down your chest, tail sizing as it held you down, leaning in close before smirking, hot, wine tainted breath on your neck as he suddenly bit you.
Youd moan, the man injecting just enough venom to get you high. A speciality of Pentious', the man having used his vemon on your more then once~
But now, he was smirking, domineering you with little effort, tail bound, venom high, he'd trail kisses down your body, kissing you all over.
Youd be at his mercy, the man teasing, torturing you with the promise of pleasure, making you submit to him.
By the end of the night, you'd be a quivering, gasping and moaning mess, Pentious smirking victoriously as you lay besides him, face red, bite marks littering your body as you softly moaned and writhed in pleasure.
With a sadistic smirk covering his face, your legs wrapped around his snake hips, he'd lean in, whispering as he always did when in control.
"Don't worry darling... I'm not halfway close to being done with you~" He purred.
Valentino
Valentino was not happy.
You were deceiving him. Lying to him.
And that could not stand. He was out of the loop. And he hated being out of the loop.
Well that wasn't entirely true.
Truth was, you were telling him you were doing one thing, while you actually did something else.
Though he want sure why you bothered with the deception. He had more informants and eyes then anyone in Pentagram.
Well, except maybe Vox, man had eyes in almost every damn device in Pride, so he probably had him beat in that department.
But well, he knew you'd done something involving your anniversary. More then likely relating to a gift for him.
Though he'd intentionally not found out what it was, the man still liking some surprises in his life.
He'd watch you "sneak" into his penthouse, you smiling and giggling like an idiot. The man smiling as he watched you 'sneak' into his penthouse, covering something in your coat
"Welcome home darling." He spoke smoothly, smiling as you froze in place.
Youd turn suddenly, hiding thr gift behind your back.
"H-hey! Val! Baby! Didn't, uh, I didnt know you were home." You spoke awkwardly, scratching your cheek awkwardly.
You smiled a broad, awkward smile.
Val held back a smile, flushed with adoration, but couldn't express it, not wanting to let you on.
"I know." He spoke coldly, snuffing his cigarette before standing, you shrinking under his imposing form.
Reaching into his coat, you leaned back, eyes closed, expecting the worse.
"Happy anniversary sweetheart."
Opening your eyes, you'd find his hand extended, a white box with a big red bow atop it.
Staring at it for a moment, you'd look up at him with a cocked brow. The man simply smiling back, giving a little smile of his own.
Suddenly it snapped into place.
"OH!" You gasped, almost jumping in place.
Holding the present you'd turn rigid, before slumping, looking down you spoke glumly.
"Oh... Well... I'm guessing you know what this is then?"
Val just chuckled, reaching out and cupping your chin. "A gift. Anything else? I'm in the dark." He finished smoothly.
Youd release a relieved sigh, hand to your chest. Looking up at him you'd smile, leaning in and kissing his cheek before looking down at your present.
"Here, hold this." You told him, holding the present out to him.
Taking it from you, he watched as you turned around, lifting the rectangular present up, before carrying it into the other room.
When he tried to follow, you'd call back. "Nu-uh! No peeking! I'll tell you when you can come in."
To which he just chuckled, rolling his eyes as he leant against the door frame.
And so, standing there for a minute or two he'd wait for you, hearing you as you scrambled around, something glass shattering, your little mumbles and curses making him chuckle.
And so, after some waiting you'd call out.
"Come in."
After which hed step in, looking around the room until he spotted something on the wall. It was obviously your gift, covered in some sheet.
And so, turning to you, he'd give you your gift again, which you subsequently placed down, eagerly leading him to your gift.
Normally, he would have taken great insult at that, but given he was as interested in seeing your gift, as you were excited for him to see it, he decided to let it slide.
And so, with an eager nod from you, he'd tear the sheet off, the man stupefied.
It was him. Or well, a painting of him, and a handsome one at that. It was him sat back, his ever present luxurious coat complementing his stern face as he smoked a cigarette.
He stared at it for several moments before he turned to you, you utterly shaking in excitement.
"Do you like it?!" You asked, almost bursting at the seems.
"No." He spoke bluntly. He let it hang in the air for just a moment. Before reaching an arm out, he'd twirl you into his grasp, the man planting a deep passionate kiss. "I love it~"
Hearing it your smile came back in full force.
"Well that's good, cause I painted it." You spoke with a goofy giggle, puffing out your chest all proudly.
Now that took him off guard.
The man showing a rare flash of surprise, as he snapped between you and the portrait, That flash of surprise enough to make you giggle up a storm.
"Yyyyyep!" You grinned. "All those 'outings' were lessons. Been seeing this professional artist for lessons and now-"
You turned proudly, smiling at the present.
"I think I did the source material justice."
Val stood there for a minute, before the man scratched his cheek, telling you in a playful voice. "Well, for once I think my gift is outclassed."
Hearing that you'd release a gentle snort, rolling your eyes.
Picking up his gift, you'd step forwards, gently cupping his cheek. "Dont worry baby, its from you. I know ill love it."
Val smiled, gently kissing your palm as you pulled back, letting you open the gift.
It was a small red box, the words 'Love you forever~' etched into the top, the smooth rosey wood that expensive kind of glossy.
Opening said gift, you'd find a rather beautiful golden locket, the simple gold heart having the words 'My Love Forever~'. "Oh, babe, it's beautiful." You gushed, hand to your chest.
Val stepped forwards, still surprisingly meek as he took it from your hand, binding it around your neck before pulling up up, holding it in his palm as he showed it off. The man easily opening it open to reveal images inside.
The left was a beautiful image of you and Val in a loving embrace, you recognised it from one of your first dates. It was a good memory.
And in the right, well, let's just say it was a raunchy image of a very undressed Val, the man smiling a very Val like smile.
And so, clicking the locket closed, you smiled, taking his hand in your own.
"Ya know... I've been wanting to do one of you in your 'natural glory' for a while now~" you spoke, making sure your intention couldn't be missed.
"But first." You began, grabbing his fuzzy collar, pulling him towards the bedroom. "But first, I think I need some... physical refrences~"
Val, simply smirked, man shedding his coat as you made it to the bed, where the two of you... tried out some positions for your next piece.
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What about the moment Vox realizes he's head over heels in love with the reader? What made him fall for them, too? I'm such a sucker for moments like that. 😫
Short little drabble from bed! This is pre-hotel! (God, we need more visuals of him. I crave more gif options)
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Unread Notification [Vox x Reader]
It snuck up on him.
Vox liked to think he was a self-aware guy. He knew his temper was easily triggered, and he spent years crafting charisma and charm to compensate. He knew he overworked, and though he'd never admit it out loud, he knew his weaknesses. So there was no reason his feelings for you should have caught him off guard.
Vox had a type. Or at least, he thought he did. He was attracted to power. To cutting edge personalities full of ambition. He thought he loved the rush of excitement that came with the more cutthroat personalities, even though more often than not, the repercussions of playing with fire was getting burned.
It was after getting burned once again by the careless hands of Valentino that Vox met you. The two of you crossed paths at a club where Valentino had dragged Vox in the name of blowing off some steam. Vox didn't feel up to the loud and busy scene, but he'd been desperate for Valentino's affection and was hoping his needs would finally be satiated. He should have known better. Because of fucking course Angel Dust had to be there.
It would matter if Vox just cut his losses and went home to angrily jerk off, but it didn't matter if he stayed. He'd never hear the end of it from Valentino if he left. The moth would just complain about Vox being needy. It had happened before.
So Vox was stuck sitting at a bar in a club that he didn't even want to be at in the first place while Valentino doted on his favorite collared pet. When Vox noticed you sitting beside him at the bar, watching Valentino and Angel Dust with similar disdain to his own.
At first, he thought you were just some random fangirl, but he quickly learned you had actually shown up because Angel had asked for a night on the town to recover from a porn shoot. You clearly weren't a fan of how things had developed, but the memory of how poorly things went the last time you tried to intervine in his addiction to Valentino's poison was fresh in your mind.
So despite how badly you wanted to leave the crowded place and just go home, you stayed. Just in case. You couldn't abandon him even if it was clear he was too far gone from Valentino's aphrodisiacs to be aware of your presence any longer.
At first, you were hesitant to voice your own frustrations about the reoccurring patterns to Vox. He was the overlord in a fucked up situationship with Valentino, after all. However, after a couple of drinks, Vox had gone off on several of his own rants and by the end of the night you had both let out all of your frustrations in a tipsy moment of relief. And no, not in the way you're thinking.
Eventually, the two of you left the club. It was late, and to both of your disdain, you'd lost track of the company you'd arrived with. It didn't seem to matter to the warm hell night, as you found an empty park bench to sit at and started shooting the shit. It was the start of an unexpected friendship that somehow grew into more without Vox realizing.
He'd come to look forward to the stupid memes you'd text him while he was at work. He liked coming over to your shitty apartment and despite how much he bitched about getting fur on his suits, Vox had passed out on the couch with you and your hellcat several times during movie nights. Unlike with the Vees, if you came to him to vent about your day, he genuinely listened. He wanted to provide the relief you gave him when he'd vent to you.
The realization of his feelings hit him like a freight train. As blaringly obvious the loud horns and bright lights may have been to any outside observer, Vox had blindly tied himself to the track without even knowing where he found the rope.
You had fallen asleep on his shoulder after the two of you spent the night marathoning some old, poorly written romcom series. There was popcorn on the floor from where you had thrown the pieces at the horribly stupid couple on the screen while Vox yelled at them for their emotional constipation. Your hair was messily framing your face as the tiniest little snores escape you on occasion. There was a small train of drool running down your chin, and Vox couldn't help but chuckle at how gracelessly you slept.
Without thinking, he tossed a blanket over you and leaned back, so he held you against him where he now lay on the couch. His arms draped over your back, and he smiled softly as your cat noticed the new position and hopped up to lay between your legs. Vox closed his eyes, content as he slowly rubbed your back and let himself relax.
He loved the smell of your shampoo. He loved how he had to use lint rollers after cuddling with you, as stupid and annoying as it could be to keep up the habit. It was worth it, just to remember your smile when he'd find a strand of fur he missed. He loved your stupid sense of humor, and he loved how at peace he felt when he was with you.
For as much as he loved his power and business, he loved getting to let his walls down with you more. He loved getting to just be the dorky guy with a bow tie and vest you poked fun at. He loved the time you tried to make him wear one of your hoodies, only for his head to get stuck. He loved you.
Vox's eyes snapped open as the peaceful sleep he'd almost slipped into was snatched away by the reality of his feelings. His heart was beating so loud, he was surprised you didn't wake up. If anything, you just wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his chest and it took everything in Vox not to explode there and then.
For the entire night, Vox screamed internally as his body shook, and he repressed the shocks and jolts that threatened to spark and wake you from your peaceful slumber. The overlord looked like exhausted shit by the time you rose with the sun, but he couldn't be damned to care. Not when you sleepily rubbed your eyes and laughed like that. Not when your hair was sticking to your face and you said good morning to him like you were meant to start the mornings in his arms just as naturally as you would breathe.
No. Vox couldn't care less about how worn out he was from the realization if he tried. Just like always, the second he saw your smile, everything else just washed away into background static. He cupped your face and said some sort of sassy quip about your bed head, to which you immediately started freaking out over.
He watched as you started to pat your hair down frantically and smiled softly. Oh yeah, he was fucking whipped.
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barblaz-arts · 28 days
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Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.
Oh yeah sure I'd love to!
I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)
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Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.
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Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.
It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.
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But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.
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Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.
But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.
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This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--
(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)
--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.
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Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.
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I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.
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