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thatanimeramenchick · 27 days

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Yandere Alastor walking in on reader trying to escape? (Maybe like through an unlocked window or door or something)

Yandere Alastor x Escaping Reader

I really like this idea. Unfortunately for the reader, they're probably not going to have a good time.

----

“What are you doing, dearest?”

Well, to be perfectly honest, you had been trying to break out of Alastor’s chateau. It had gone about as successfully as one might expect though. Whatever demon plants he had growing around this house, they were certainly… friendly. They had wrapped you up nice and tight as your body half hung out the window. It had you stuck upside down, and your skirts were flowing open like a flower, your stocking clad legs sticking out like two stamen.

“I… leaned a little too far out the window,” you said.

You pushed your skirt up, trying to cover your legs.

“And you happened to lean so far out that you completely fell out and got tangled up?” he said.

“…. Yes.”

“Hm…” he walked around you, the thoughtful buzz of his voice filling the air, “Is that so?”

You thought you felt your heart stop as he cocked his head to look at you thoughtfully.

“You must have lent out awfully far. The plants are usually so docile,” he said, “You know, lying is a bad habit to get into.”

Docile, my ass. This thing would have eaten me if it could have.

You narrow your eyes at his chiding tone, but you probably look more clownish than intimidating. His amused expression is a dead give away for how ridiculous he thinks you are.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say when you finally manage to find your voice.

“No? You don’t?” he said, “Perhaps I should let you stay out here until you remember. Though, I did hear there’s supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight. You’re smart though. I’m sure you’ll have it figured out before the worst of it hits.”

“But I didn’t!” you said, “I fell. I-I… I should have been more careful.”

He was turning away towards the door. Damn it. You really didn’t want to get left in the rain though, especially since you knew he was going to leave you out there anyway until you confessed. Might as well get it over with.

“W-wait! Alastor,” you said, squeezing your eyes tight. You didn’t want to look at him as you said this, “I… I wanted to go outside, and get some fresh air.”

When you finally managed to pry an eye open, he had turned back to you and walked over.

“And?”

Ugh, how this man tortured you.

“I was gonna just take a walk,” you said, “I-I was gonna come back.”

You could tell that despite his constant smile, he wasn’t sold on your little excuse. You decided to lay it on thicker.

“I swear! I wasn’t going to run away again! I wasn’t! It was just a little-’

“And what are you supposed to do if you want to go out?” he interrupted.

“… ask you first,” you said after a short pause, “But-”

“Ah, so you DO remember!” he said, “Clever girl. And run away? I didn’t even mention that. Unless you were thinking of it.”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“Then why did you bring it up? Ah, I told you not to lie to me,” he said, “Clearly, you were at least thinking about it if you brought it up.”

You knew it was pointless to argue with him when he was convinced of something. Besides, it’s not like he was wrong. You had planned a small walk, but if there had been even the slightest chance of escape, you would have bolted.

“… it might have been on my mind,” you finally concede.

“Such a stubborn little thing,” Alastor said,

He flicked your forehead with his claw.

“It never ceases to amaze just how mule headed you can be,” he said, more to himself than you.

He sighed before he conjured up a tentacle. He seemed mollified enough to get you out, and of course he wasn’t going to dirty himself up to do that. It untangled you from the vines, seized you by the waist, and yanked you back into the room. Before you knew it, you were slammed onto the floor as he released you just a little too soon. You could feel bruising forming beneath your skin, that would last for a few short hours yet were still painful. Groaning, you managed to stand up.

“I just don't understand why you insist on fighting me,” he said, more amusement than anger in his voice, “You and I both know you’re not going to win.”

You felt your claw like fingernails diffing into your skin, leaving an obvious mark.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so controlling…” you started to mutter softly to yourself.

Apparently, there was more anger hiding inside him than you thought. You watched his hands tighten on his staff at your words, and his face darkened, eyes narrowing. Your heart sped up to that of a bullet train. You knew that look. The last time he had looked like that he had chopped off your hand, and you had had to wait for what felt like forever until it regenerated. You had to admit that it had been an effective mode of action, as you hadn’t dared to raise a hand to him since that day.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just, it’s-it’s...” you said, voice sputtering.

Tears welled on the edges of your eyes. You don’t even know if they were crocodile ones or not. You’d faked them so many times to try to weasel your way out of things, Alastor related or otherwise, that they just came naturally to you at the first sign of trouble. After you were sure he had seen them, you buried your face in his chest, wailing.

“You don’t understand!” you wailed, “It’s so lonely when you’re not here. I miss you when you’re working. I can’t stand it, and I know you’re always so busy.”

“Sh, sh, I understand,” he said, running his fingers through your hair, “I know you get so bored in here. You must want to scream.”

Oh, thank all that was holy. You knew that Alastor tended to have a soft spot for a woman in tears, and he was taking this much better than-

“But being so rebellious like this… Dearest, it pains me to say this, but you really should know better. It’s like you’re begging me to punish me when you act like this,” he said.

You’re entire body went rigid as you felt his gentle petting turn into a firm grasp, keeping your face pressed into his chest.

“And darling, please believe me, it always hurts me much more than it does you when I have to do this,” he said.

His voice was so tender, you would have almost believed him. But no matter how gentle his tone, it couldn’t conceal the obvious sadistic glee dancing in his pupils.

#hazbin hotel #yandere alastor #alastor #yandere x reader #yandere alastor x reader

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thatanimeramenchick · 1 month

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Yandere Lucifer x Human Sacrifice Reader Pt. 2

Part One

Word count: 2,755

Originally requested by @hazbinlove

---

Your body was still suffering from your injuries when you awoke two days later. While not as intense as before, you could still feel that itching, burning feeling down your entire chest, which was now wrapped in gauze. You were in a soft bed, mind still reeling a little from everything that had happened. If it wasn’t for how sensitive your entire body still felt, you would have written the whole experience off as an ugly nightmare. Yet here you were, somehow still alive. Your first thought was that you must be in the hospital, but the room looked more like a nice apartment room, in line with a hotel suite. Someone must have found you half dead outside after the attack. That odd angelic figure you had seen, it must have been a dream.

That was what you thought as you lay in your uncomfortable position. Not too much longer later, the door opens, and in comes a man that looks vaguely familiar.

He was short, or at least shorter than most men you were accustomed to seeing.

“You’re awake!” he said.

He came into the room, holding a tray filled with breakfast food. You felt your stomach rumble as you saw that is had chocolate covered croissants and a bowl of fruit that looked delicious.

“… who are you?” you asked.

“Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Lucifer,” he said.

“You’re… Lucifer?” you said, shocked.

Instinctively, you try to inch away as this sinks in your mind, but you don’t make it very far, only succeeding in wincing in discomfort. Your body was still fragile from the attack.

“Not what you were expecting?” he asked, with a small smile.

A feeling of fear stirred inside your stomach. This had to be a mistake. A trap. There was no way that this was actually the devil. Unless…

“Am I dead?”

“Dead? Oh, no, quite the opposite!” he said, “Somehow, despite everything that happened to you, your soul is still inside its original body. You’re alive.”

“Then why am I with you?” you asked, hoping that the horror you felt wasn’t too apparent in your voice and face.

“Well I couldn’t very well just leave you out there,” he said, “You were basically being tortured like that. You could have lost your mind that way, repeatedly dying and regenerating.”

You just stared at him in stunned silence for a minute. As you stare at him, you feel your memory aligning with the sight in front of you. You hardly remembered the sight you had seen, you had been in so much pain, but you had seen flashes of flame. A white, red, and gold figure, with an unnaturally eerie light. Was it really possible?

“How do you know about my… thing?” you finally ask.

“Well, the unasked for human “sacrifices” usually don’t survive that kind of stabbing. It seems that someone has put a spell on you,” he said, “It’s a seal of protection. No matter what happens to you, you eventually regenerate. Your body will heal any fatal injury, though, it appears that there are some remnants of the attack. Whoever cast it must not have had a lot of experience and didn’t really know what they were doing.”

The memories of your mothers tear filled yet hopeful eyes rushed back into your mind. Had she…?

“Is there a way to reverse it?” you asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said, “I suppose I would have to look through my grimoires, but it may take some time for me to look.”

He looks at you thoughtfully.

“You sure you want me to reverse it?” he said, “Most humans would kill to live on earth forever.”

“No. I haven’t even been alive that long, and I already know I never want to experience coming back to life after I die again,” you said.

He puts the tray down next to you on the bed.

“Understandable. I’ve had my own fair share of accidents and long recoveries,” he said, “I know from experience it can be quite unpleasant.”

As if to prove his point, you grimace as you sit up a bit more to eat. Your entire chest feels like it will rip back open if you’re not careful.

“I think you should stay here for a little while,” he said, fingers nearing your face. He stops just short of touching you though as he sees you tense, eventually drawing his hand away and behind his back. An awkward silence permeates the room.

“Anyway, you need time to properly recover after everything that has happened to you,” he said, “Get some proper rest. I’ll leave you to that.”

With that he walks out, closing the door.

---

“I have a little surprise for you.”

You had been bored as you slowly healed. After about a week and a half, you were able to get out of bed, but there wasn’t too much to do. Your “nurse” had provided you with some books to read and puzzles, but other than that, there wasn’t much to do but rest. Though, considering how tired the attack had made you, you supposed you shouldn’t be complaining that much. You were feeling much better now, and the dullness was setting in.

Today though, Lucifer had a certain look in his eyes as he sat on the edge of your bed. He closed his hands together. As he opened them, smoke pealed and a black cat curled out. The pretty little thing which slinked onto the bed and kneaded its paws on the soft fabric. You offer a smile at his attempts to cheer you up. You had to admit that there was a certain charm about him.

“You created that?” you asked.

“Well, technically no,” he said, “I can’t make anything out of nothing. But I may have borrowed him from somewhere else.”

He absently stroked the animal. Squirming a bit, your mind raced. He seemed to be in a decent mood. You had wanted to broach a certain topic in the last day or two, but you weren’t really sure how. You didn’t want to come across as ungrateful and upset him, but he seemed to be in a good mood. Perhaps now was the time.

“Um… so, I’m doing a lot better now,” you said.

“You are,” he said.

“And… I was wondering what you thought about me going back,” you said, “I think I’d be ok.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Unable to handle the awkward silence, you start babbling, rushing words out.

“I think I’d be able to handle it,” you said, “I can walk and take care of myself again. Thank you for all of your help, but I don’t want to bother you any longer.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” he said, “I wouldn’t worry about that. Besides, I think it’s in your best interest that you stay somewhere where your safe.”

“Yes, but I can’t stay in here forever,” you said, “I don’t belong in here.”

While you had to admit he had been an attentive caretaker, you were tired of seeing the same four walls all the time. You needed to get out of here.

“…Perhaps not,” he said finally looking at you, eyes serious, “But I know that if I let you out of this building, some demon or other will get their hands on you and kill you. Or at least attempt to. And trust me, with the kind of sickos that end up down here, you do not want to end up in the wrong hands with an ability like that and no way to defend yourself. That will not be a fun time for you.”

“Er… I don’t mean out there. Can’t you just bring me back to the surface?” you ask.

He is again quiet for a long moment, a look on his face that you can’t quite place. He drums his fingers against his cane for a minute before sighing.

“Do you truly want to go back though?” he said, “You really think that’s a good idea? I mean, look what they did to you!”

He finally looks at you and waves his hand as if to dismiss your unspoken pleas, suddenly animated.

“You think no ones going to try something like this again?” he said, “That if that group finds out you survived, they’re going to be all huncky dory about it? That maybe they’ll just go ‘Oh, wowy, our little sacrifice went wrong. That’s a shame, let’s try a goat this time!’”

“Not all humans are bad,” you protest, “Plenty of us are good. I mean, you like me well enough.”

He scoffs at your words.

“Sure, I suppose some humans won’t try to take advantage of you, but just like down here, if the wrong one finds out about this little… gift of yours, and your best days on earth will rival some of the worst ones down here! Even well meaning humans might want to dissect you to find a futile way to live on earth forever,” he said.

“So what, you just want me to stay here forever?” you said, trying not to sound hysterical, “In fucking hell?”

“I mean, it’s really not so bad down here, as long as you’re with the right people,” he said, “And you couldn’t have better company. Eh?” You swear you hear a horn honk as he winks at you and shakes his elbow.

His attempt at joking optimism falls flat, with the horn sound making it only seem pathetic. The disappointment you feel must be showing on your face as he eventually sighs again and looks at you with condescending pity. It was the patronizing gaze an adult may give a child who is upset that they can’t have ice cream for dinner or an owner would give a pet that wants to jump out of a moving car.

Silly little thing. I’m sorry you’re so angry, but this is for your own good.

“I’m not a child,” you finally say, which only causes him to chuckle softly.

“No, you are not a child. It’s simply that I’m thousands of years old, and you’re what? In your mid-twenties, I would guess. It’s not as if I have more experience with the world or how humans work,” he said.

You glare at him.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! You know it’s true,” he said, “People with something special to offer tend to only attract the worst kinds of attention. Trust me, I know.”

“And I’m supposed to expect that your intentions are pure?” you said, before you could think better of it.

Rather than anger though, his face contorts to one of hurt.

“F/N, I’m sorry if I’ve ever done anything to give you the impression that I want anything from you,” he said, moving closer to you and resting his hand on yours, “I know you’re not thrilled about this situation, but you were left for dead as a sacrifice. I couldn’t have just let you suffer, it wouldn’t have been right. It’s only proper that I take responsibility for what happened to you.”

You just continue to glare at him, but a part of you hears a degree of reason in his words. You feel some guilt tighten in your chest. Perhaps you were being unreasonable. This only makes you angrier though, at him and yourself. You don’t want to concede to him.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, “I know what it means to go one and on forever, and there are things that are much, much worse than death. Trust me.”

He’s moved so close to you now that your noses almost touch.

“Please try to understand. I’m doing this because I truly care for you. I would hate it if something happened to you,” he said.

As he speaks, he traces the edge of your chin with his fingers, and you suppress the natural urge you have to pull away. No aggression is in his eyes, only a certain pity and tenderness. He stares into your eyes like this for a moment before unexpectedly, gently and softly, he presses his lips to yours.

Wait, what?

It’s so unexpected that you freeze up in a sort of shock. You don’t even push him off of you, just hold still as he caresses your mouth with his own. Seeming encouraged that you haven’t pulled away, he moves his hand from your chin to your hair, stroking it and guiding it closer to him. It feels… pleasant. Nice. You hadn’t noticed, but at some point he had brought his other hand to your side and was slowly drawing it up your stomach, up to the side of your breast, not touching anything too intimately. Somehow, this felt more forbidden than if he had touched you more sensually. Slowly, you allow yourself to open your mouth, as if to deepen the kiss, and your fingers reach up to his shirt and rest against his chest.

Until you remember that you’re kissing the literal devil.

When that sinks in, you shudder and wretch your face away from him. He looks surprised, but allows you to do so.

“What are you doing?!” you screech.

“Um…”

“What on earth?” you cry out, horrified, “Why did you do that?!”

He looks a bit baffled for a second, “Did you not like it?”

“Yes! I mean, no! I mean- I-I… Don’t do that again!” you said, “I didn’t like it.”

“… All right,” he said, “If you say so.”

You feel your face heat up as you break eye contact for a second, and while he moves away a little, as if to respect your space, you catch a bit of a satisfied light in his eyes at your blushing.

–-

Lucifer ignored the pang of guilt in his gut. It was easy to squish, like an ant beneath his outstretched finger. There for just a second, and then crushed with no hope of resurrecting. He’d had plenty of practice ignoring the things he didn’t want to pay attention to, and this was no different.

You were so naive. To anyone with a hint of demonic knowledge, they would know it would be quite easy for him to remove the spell. With a few exceptions, nearly every curse that was cast could be reversed one way or another, and yours was no different. It would be child’s play for him to remove the spell and return you to your home. He was the king of hell after all.

You didn’t need to know that though.

So long he had lived life alone. He and Lilith had parted ways long ago, and he hadn’t really found anyone else. The hellborn, while at times enticing, lived short lives compared to what he had. They weren’t eternal, and they often fell under the influence of the sinners. Too many times a well meaning demon had been led on a less than savory path.

Even without that problem though, connection was so difficult for him. There was a part of him that almost seemed to disassociate whenever he was around others, even those he cared about. Yet here, with you, things were so easy. You had been literally handed to him as a gift, and your helpless ingenue personality had rekindled the softer, more romantic side of him. Perhaps he was being selfish, keeping you like this, but it wasn’t as if he couldn’t recompense for whatever frustrations you were feeling.

Though for now you claimed that you didn’t like him, he could see the embarrassed desire in your eyes. Not that he would humiliate you for it. He would draw that desire out from you until it flowed from you as naturally as a river flows downstream. Already you were kissing him back, even if a bit shyly, and at this rate he was sure that he would soon have you acquiescing to more intimate expressions of his affection.

Yes, you were a little peeved now, but you’d get over it. It wasn’t as if you really knew what you wanted anyway. Humans were so difficult. Give them free will and let them do what they think they want, and they still screw it all up. They were so foolish, falling for delusions and falsehoods so easily. He couldn’t let that happen with you.

#yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #yandere lucifer

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thatanimeramenchick · 1 month

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Look, I can explain.

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thatanimeramenchick · 1 month

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I just thought of somethin(I’m sorry if I’m spamming or anything. I’ve got ADHD so my brain is constantly making ideas that I have to share. I do not wish to overwhelm you)

What about a Yandere Lucifer(Hazbin) with a immortal human reader? They were cursed from a young age with immortality because of a mistake there mother made. They can die but don’t really stay dead. Every time they die they get a scar so there covered with them both large and small. They go to university but was supposed to be sacrificed by a cult to Lucifer but obviously survived but now there stuck with Lucifer always being around?

Yandere Lucifer x Human Sacrifice Reader Pt. 1

You’re fine! Definitely not spamming. I just might take some time before I get to writing it. Lucifer has me in a choke hold, but so does Vox. I also wanted to do this idea justice, as it actually has a lot of potential, so it took me a little while before I finally felt like it sounded kind of decent. Also it was getting long, so going to be a two parter.

Part Two

Trigger Warning: Graphic Violence

Word Count: 2,431

---

You first realized something was wrong when you were twelve.

It was a warm August afternoon, perfect for a day on the lake. Only a week left before school, your extended family was having a last little hurrah camping trip. Water brushed against your shoulders as you waded through the water, looking for small fish and crawdads. Your cousins were on the shore, half asleep as they rested from swimming.

“Kids! It’s time for lunch!” you heard your Aunt’s voice fill the air.

Eager for food, like any other over-exhausted child, you turn quickly on the slick rocks, ready to run inside.

“Wait for me!” you cry out, taking no care in how fast you were moving.

And down you went. Your slipped right out from under you and sent you crashing beneath the waves. A roar filled your ears as your body ripped through the water and sent your head against the stone ground. Along with the cold water, you felt a hot liquid bubbling from the crown of your head.

Whether from shock or pain, you were unable to swim. You thrashed and attempted to scream, only letting more water into your throat. Surely someone had heard you falling and would come to save you, right? There was no way they hadn’t heard you.

Yet as seconds passed, you started to think that maybe no one had heard you. Every passing moment felt like an eternity as you were unable to hold your breath and water choked down your throat.

You swore that you felt your lungs literally ripping apart, splitting at the seams in a pain that was so intense you felt like you would black out. You suddenly knew what it was like to be the balloons you and your cousins had blown up with a little too much air and watched pop into a million pieces.

The oxygen must finally have evaporated from the combination of fluid filling your lungs and blood leaving your body. This was it.

You were going into the arms of the angels.

---

To this day, beneath your hair, was the large scar from “the incident” as your family referred to it.

Well, when they referred to it at all, which was almost never.

All you had remember was awakening in the hospital, gasps, tears, and even a scream filling the air as you sat up.

“I-impossible!” your aunt had said, gazing in shock at you, “She was… She had to be….”

“I told you, the doctors had made a mistake,” your mother had said calmly. She had been sitting beside you, squeezing your hand. Though her words were soft and controlled, there were tears on the edges of her eyes.

Your cousins started crying as well, coming forward, looking just as stunned. The only one who had seemed unsurprised was your mother, who held your hand in a death grip.

That day lived in infamy in your mind. Though nothing had ever been explained, small snippets from conversations you hadn’t been meant to overhear had formed an image of what had happened.

Finally, it had been noticed that you were not there, and your eldest cousin had been the horrified witness to your body in the lake, water red from the massive loss of blood. Though they had called the ambulance, it was clear to everyone that you had died before they had even got there.

Or so they had thought.

You had been laid in the hospital, check on, with no pulse or breath in you. Your family had been in the room crowding around you, all saying final goodbyes. All except your mother, who had simply grabbed onto your hand and insisted that you weren’t dead. The doctor had made a mistake, you would be fine. Naturally, your Aunt and Uncle thought that your mother was simply confused after the traumatic experience.

But you had woken up. Suddenly, something had changed. The machines detected life, and you had taken a gasping breath before groggily opening your eyes.

The nurses and doctors had seem just as spooked as your extended family, but once it was determined that somehow you had survived and your lungs were intact, they let you go. Someone must have made some kind of mistake at some point.

There had been no explanation, logical or otherwise for your salvation. Your mother said that you must be under divine protection, and you had accepted the answer, as much as you weren’t really convinced of it. Convinced or not, you were alive, and you supposed that was what mattered.

That had been nine years ago. It was something you rarely thought about anymore, though recently, you had been wondering about it. The whole thing was weird, and your studies in medical school only made it weirder.

You didn’t have time to think about it these days though. You were short on two things, money and time. Which is why you were now looking at the posters hung in the cafeteria for an opportunity to make some quick cash.

You had some cash flow from your repeated donations of plasma and blood cells, as well as the occasional babysitting gig in between studies. You needed more though, and the flier you were looking at was promising a lot of pay if you went to this interview and were accepted as a participant for an experiment that some seniors were doing. So many of you had participated in a couple of experiments for professors and students to earn a buck here and there. You could do it again. You ignored the vague wording, thinking that it was probably some experimentation that involved the subjects being in the dark.

So now, you were sitting on a park bench with the interviewer for the program, being drilled harder than if you had stayed out all night as a teenager.

“Do drugs, smoke, alcohol?” the interviewer asked.

“No,” you said.

“All right,” she said, "And... we'll need to know you're relationship history as well. Any boyfriends, girlfriends?”

“I had one boyfriend in high school,” you said, "Been too busy last few years though.”

“Just one boyfriend... Ok, and any hookups?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Like, you know, bar or party hookups. Casual sex.”

“I-I- Uh... No,” you said.

“So you're a virgin?” she asked.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t see how this is relevant,” you said, feeling uncomfortable.

“It’s necessary information for dividing the groups in our experiment,” she said, “Your personal name isn’t going to be connected to any of this. But we need to know as much personal information as possible if you want us to consider you for this. We need to know our subjects on a deep level.”

You sigh in irritation, “Fine, whatever. Yes, I am.”

“Ok,” she said, scribbling something down.

After a few more minutes of interrogation, she stood up.

“All right then, I think I have everything I need to know. We will be in touch if you pass all right? If you do, you'll be contacted on the meeting place for the experimentation,” she said.

---

A week later, you had gotten a call back from the same interviewer, saying you had passed initial testing. They assigned a day for you to show up at the lab. After you had arrived on the appointed day and signed some wavers, they took you aside and gave you some medication, saying they were conducting a test on REM sleep in three sessions. The first two had gone typically, and you had awoken, mind numb and fuzzy after the sessions. But something was different when you woke up the third time. You weren't in the lab.

You awoke, foggy eyed, your mind still grainy. The room was freezing, even more so than the normally cool temperature it was kept at. In a few seconds, you realized you weren't in the lab at all or likely the university. Your surroundings were totally alien as you realized where you were and who you were with.

You were looking up at a circle of men and women in black and red cloaks. A sickening smell of incense fills the air, and you feel something right digging into your wrists and ankles. In moments, you realize you have been tied down to a stone altar, somewhere dark and damp, like a cave or temple. Directly over you stands a middle aged man, holding a knife.

“She’s perfect,” he said, “A beautiful young virgin. Not tainted in any way, in good health. The ideal sacrificial lamb.”

The day of the incident was swarming back into your mind as you now struggled against the rope tying you own, as futile as you had felt slapping against the water. You couldn’t even attempt to scream, a cloth was shoved so far down your throat, the scent of whatever chemical they had dipped in it making it burn. Part of you wondered if you would vomit and repeatedly suffocate before he could even stab you.

“Oh Lucifer, we call upon you to accept this sacrifice,” the man called out, raising the knife, “May you be pleased with this offering, and in exchange bless our work. May we be more prosperous and rich than any others! We bow down to you!”

With his final words, he sliced the knife into your chest, so fast and swift that you didn’t feel it at first. It was as subtle as a breeze rushing past your cheek or hearing a whisper in the hallway. Small as it was though, you couldn’t deny that it was there. Within a split second, as he ripped the knife out, you felt some of that pain materializing. A muffled scream is silenced, and you feel the cloth sink deeper into your throat, choking you. Even if your mouth can not let out a sound, the surrounding flesh is painful enough that it feels like it is screaming in silent agony.

He continues to stab at you. The pain worsens as he tries to push the knife deep into your heart, but manages to instead stab into your ribs multiple times. Each removal of the knife releases a fountain of blood. Warm, fast, sleek streams bathe your skin and clothes as he drives the knife through you over and over again, without mercy. Penetrating, forceful, as if you were being violated in the worst possible way. The physical pain of the experience is nothing compared to the mental anguish of helplessness and terror you feel.

Finally, mercifully a few cuts sink between you ribs and pierce your heart. Within minutes, your world begins fading to black.

This is it. Finally.

At least that was what you hoped. No more pain, only peace.

---

Hell was real.

You hadn’t died, but you didn’t need to for you to experience a pure torment worse than death. Some twisted miracle, curse, whatever the hell it was, had saved you. You awoke who knows how long after the attack, alone and still strapped to the stone altar. You couldn’t lift your head, it roared with pain. The pure torture of regenerating, something you hadn’t felt in years. Your body burned and itched as it restitched itself back together, slowly. The process of regeneration was in some ways more gruesome than the actual attack had been. Every inch of your chest felt like it was on fire.

The cloth was still stuck deep in your throat, making it impossible to call for help, but part of you knew that even if you could have it probably wouldn’t attract attention from anyone you would want. Your only fear was that it would remain stuck in your throat for ages. The image of it resting there until your spit somehow dissolved it and allowed for you to breathe normally haunted you, as well as the image that you might die from an infection or suffocation like this a couple of times before that happens.

Your mind was so focused on this that you didn’t notice the glowing light walking around you. Sight fuzzy, you winced as the light fully entered your focus and before you stood a man, radiating light from his crimson and white body. Wings on display, emanating from his back. No further details could be caught though, as you were in too much pain to really pay attention. Despite this though, you had no doubt who this was.

Lucifer.

You were surprised. Always, your imagination had painted the devil as a creature of darkness. Even if he wasn’t a red horned creature, you had expected a creature that radiated evil and smoke. Yet Lucifer stood before you with an almost ethereal glow about him. While there was a certain flame about him, it burned with a cool, almost glorious light.

Well, you had heard someone once say that the devil portrayed himself as a creature of light. Perhaps the brightness of his form should not surprise you. A mask of goodness over his true evil intent. He leans over you, gazing at your half-alive form.

Finally, the devil reaches over to your face, gazing at you with a look that you decide must be curiosity. There is no way that it contains the pity that your mind at first thinks it glimpses. If this is the devil that the group worshiped, then there was no way any sympathy could be found in his eyes. He lowered his hand to your face, causing you to flinch, the pain exploding at your brief movement. Instead of the expected violence though, he caresses your cheek with tenderness.

“Poor little thing. Humans are such fools,” he murmurs, “The way they treat their own is downright atrocious.”

While you would push his touch away if you could, you find it impossible. The pain is too great to bother defying him. It is nothing compared to the torture your body goes through though when he lifts you into his arms. Chipped bones feel as if they are shifting through your sliced muscle and ripped flesh. You feel more blood flowing out of your body, like the lake sand would flow between the cracks in your fingers as a child. Even though you are unable to scream, you must have at least attempted to make some kind of noise as the demon holding you makes an effort to soothe you.

“Sh… It’s all right now,” you heard, “You’re going to be just fine. There’s no need to be afraid.”

It was the last thing you heard before pain consumed your mind and took you from consciousness.

#hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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I know u'll most likely refuse this one since u already posted the last part but I was wondering if u could write like a ..different ending to that yandere vox fanfiction!!!THAT FANFIC IS LITERALLY THE BEST VOX FANFIC IVE EVER READ AND I MUST SEE THE ENDING WHERE THE READER FAILS TO ESCAPE

its okay if u dont have the motivation or just simply dont want to!!!

First, thank you for your kind words! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed it! :D And to hear it's the best? That's a real honor.

As for a continuation or alternate ending. Ugh. You guys are slowly wearing me down lol. Nothing is confirmed, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it. To be perfectly honest, I'll probably eventually write something more the series. No guarantees though! Thanks again for your encouragement!

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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Yandere! Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he meets a human! Innocent! reader and Yandere! Alastor... Where the two of them start fighting over the reader...

Yandere Alastor vs Lucifer and Human Reader

Ha ha ha, I live for the chaos that this would be.

---

“You mean, she’s alive? Not an official sinner?” Lucifer asked.

“Yep,” said Charlie, “Um… we’re not quite sure how she got down here, to be perfectly honest, but she definitely doesn’t fit the sinner criteria in looks or attitude.”

You hesitate before you give a small curtsy to the king of hell. You weren’t sure if the act was going to count against you when you actually died for real, but who knows, maybe he’d be as nice as Charlie was? Either way, Charlie was a good girl, and you wanted to help her out. Surely no one could blame you for being kind to someone, even if that someone is the King of Hell himself.

“Nice to meet you, your highness,” you say, voice timid.

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen a… living human,” Lucifer said, circling you, as if you were a rare exotic animal, “It’s been decades. Centuries even. And you don’t know how you got down here?”

“No, your highness,” you said, “I really don’t know what happened. I-I just ended up here somehow.”

“And no way to get back home either, I’m assuming?” he said, “How odd. Must find it terrifying down here, not to mention dangerous.”

Charlies chuckles a little, but you see a certain nervousness in her eyes. Your safety had been the talk of many stressful meetings.

“We do keep her as secure as we can,” she said, “Considering she’s so vulnerable down here she stays in the hotel pretty much all the time.”

“Ah, yes,” said Alastor, who seemed to be butting into every conversation poor Charlie was trying to hold with her father, “This little lady here, I assure you, she is under the strict protection of the hotel. The very best, as I tend to her safety personally.”

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as he said it, pulling you closer to him. The touch startled you, as he wasn’t one for physical affection. In all honesty, you don’t recall him ever touching you in any way ever other than the brief handshake you had shared on meeting. You tense a little at the unexpected contact.

Lucifer’s eyes turn to Alastor and narrow. He looks at him like one would look at a spider crawling on the wall. A chill runs through you with the amount of malice in his eyes.

“… I’m sure you do,” he finally said.

His eyes return to you, a hint of curiosity in them, most of the malice gone.

“But! I’d be more than happy to assist in this matter,” he continued, “I’m not sure if there is anything we really can do as far as sending you back up to earth, but I can do my best to make sure you stay safe. Demons are fine and dandy, but there’s nothing like a royal seal of protection. You haven't made a deal, have you?”

As you shake your head, Alastor’s grip tightens, making your shoulder ache. You worry he’s going to claw through your blouse and into your skin if he’s not careful.

Saying you were uncomfortable would be the understatement of the year.

Lucifer Morningstar

Lucifer would have a clear upper hand in this situation, and oh, the nostalgia you would bring! He’s had plenty of experience getting innocent, naive human women to warm up to him, both in the romantic department and outside of it. While he is a bit out of practice, if he actually tried, I could see him using all of his experience, charm, and knowledge to seduce a shy girl out of her shell.

If you’re still a living human, he’s going to be quite protective of you. You want to leave the hotel? Have you gone straight mad? Honestly, if he had it his way, Charlie wouldn’t let you out of your bedroom with those nasty sinners crawling around the hotel. Do you want to end up as corrupt and filthy as the rest of hell? Perhaps he can talk to Charlie and convince her that you need to be taken somewhere more… secure.

Once he finally moves into the hotel, the real battle is going to begin. He'll be seeing you regularly and therefore make it impossible for him to push you out of his mind. And he has to put up with Alastor's antics now on a daily basis.

While he'd like to think he's levelheaded and mature, I can see arguments with Alastor quickly spinning out of control and getting very personal and very nasty fast. The only thing holding him back from just killing him after a certain point is the fact that Charlie likes him as much as she does.

Alastor

Part of me would wonder if he actually even likes you or if he just wants to mess with Lucifer tbh.

All jokes aside, Alastor would be pissed. He knows that Lucifer is more powerful in every sense of the word, and he can’t do a thing about it. Well, at least nothing that really matters. He’s simply going to have to be more charming than Lucifer is, to the point where you prefer him.

He’s going to pull out all the stops of being a suave southern gentleman. While Lucifer will try to wow you with bombastic displays that only he can provide, Alastor will offer himself as the sweet, traditional lover that has your back. He's a distinguished romantic compared to this circus leading clown. At least that's what he'll want you to think. When it comes down to it, Alastor has far less experience than Lucifer with women and romance.

Also I see him as being one of those people who’s like, “Since I know I can’t lift myself up more, I’m dragging this asshole down to my level.” Verbally throws barbs at Lucifer, both to piss him off and to try to make him look worse in your eyes. He’d have a real hayday if he can provoke Lucifer into saying or doing something that scares you.

Even when Lucifer’s not around though, he’s the type to plant ideas in your mind that the king of hell is simply not a good match for you. He’d use his verbal skills to make Lucifer look less attractive in your eyes or to make you feel like it would be unwise to get in a relationship with the literal Devil.

I’d like to think you’d turn them both down, but they’re both too polite towards women to be that forceful with you, so instead they just butt horns for what feels like eternity over who should have you. Clearly it’s the other guys fault that you don’t want him, not yours! Then when you finally die, you go to heaven, leaving them both quite upset about the whole situation.

But if things did get ugly and push came to shove, Lucifer would definitely win. At this point in the game, Alastor doesn't stand a chance. Hope you enjoy solitary confinement!

#hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #alastor #yandere alastor #yandere lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

Text

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 3/Finale

This is the finale. Ya’ll are not talking me into another one.

Word count: 4,313

Part One - Part Two

---

You had a lot of time to think before you saw Vox again.

Your little spat had kept him from visiting you for about a week and a half, which was fine by you. He was often so busy he only visited you every other day or so even before your blowout. It would have been more than fine by you if you weren’t completely alone that entire time, having nothing to do but live with your depressing thoughts. Thoughts that always led you back to the same dark place at the end of the day.

Despair.

In your heart, you knew there was nothing you could do to get out of the situation. Kick and scream as you would you weren’t leaving. It was only going to be a matter of time before all of his patience evaporated, and he really lost it with you. And while a part of you wanted to hold out that he would give up or die before then, the logical part of your mind knew he would snap way before that happened. You didn’t even want to know what he would do to you then. If you came to some kind of arrangement you could tell yourself you had at least agreed to things on a surface level, even if it had been something you didn’t want to do. So, your mind had been whirling like crazy, trying to come up with a plan of some kind of a proposal that would make you feel like you had at least a little control.

Besides, you had been locked up in here for what, four month? You had turned it over and over and over in your mind. While it was true you might have to wait a small eternity before you found a way out of his arms, it was going to take just as long to get out of here even without the contract. At least with one you’d be able to leave regularly and try to work something out.

By the time he had finally decided to grace you with his presence again, you had worked out a shoddy idea of how you want this to go.

This would be fine. He had accepted your apology well enough, seeming to take a certain pleasure in your partially feigned shame and timidity. You had even managed to wrap your arms around him for a few seconds as you asked for forgiveness. While his initial reaction was to look at you with some surprise, his face has soon changed to one of self-satisfied indulgence, and he had caressed your head with a patronizing touch. How could he remain angry at you when he cared so much for you and you were clearly so sorry for your behavior?

Now that you were actually sitting beside him though, you weren’t sure you actually wanted to go through with the rest of your plan. He was on his phone, no doubt checking something for work. You bounced your legs, crossed at the knee, working up the courage to say what you wanted to.

You cleared your throat.

“Vox? I-I wanted to ask you a question,” you said.

He looked up from his phone.

“If it’s all right, I would like to go out to dinner,” you said, “In an actual restaurant.”

“And I would let you out, why?” he asked.

This was going to be the hard part, forcing yourself to actually say the words.

“If you let me out of here for a little while, I-I’d give you something you want,” you said, “Something you’ve wanted for a while.”

You sucked in a hurried breath, suppressing the urge to shudder.

“It could even be a formal deal,” you said, words rushed together now that you had worked up the courage to say them, “If you take me out for the evening, dinner and a hotel, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me afterwards. I’ll even consider the contract.”

You made yourself look him in the eyes, your body stiff. You forced yourself to smile at him, but with how strained it felt, you didn’t doubt that Vox could see how fake it was. There was only so much you could fake about actually wanting this. Despite your obvious discomfort though, Vox’s looked at you thoughtfully, as if actually considering the proposal.

“Why not just sign the contract now?” he asked, “If you’re serious about being cooperative why hold it out?”

“I want to be sure it’s something I actually want to agree to,” you said, “L-like a test run.”

He smirked, “So you’re saying you want to take the car for a ride before buying it?”

You avert your gaze, feeling your face heat up.

“S-sure, yeah,” you said, “I mean, it only makes sense that I see what it’s like before I commit permanently.”

He was quiet for a minute before a satisfied looked crossed his face.

“All right. What the hell, why not? Let’s make it official then. We agree that, if I take you out to dinner in a real restaurant and then to a hotel, let’s say on Saturday, you’ll do whatever I want that night?” he asked, holding out his hand.

You listened. It was obvious to you that he was using carefully planned out words, as Overlord’s often did in their deals and contracts, making sure that it was clear on both ends what would be expected and fulfilled. A part of you also wanted to make sure he didn’t slip anything in there that would trap you in over your head even more, which was a common tactic with demons.

“… Except make another deal or contract,” you said.

“Except make another deal or contract.”

You supposed that this was as good as it was gonna get. You took his hand hesitantly.

It hurt. It felt like a shock of static had gone through you, a little painful but more annoying than anything. Over as soon as it started. Blue light had near blinded you for a second before dissipating as well. You felt a small tug on your chest somewhere deep inside, probably in your soul somewhere. Not too apparent, but it had been there nonetheless. You rubbed your arms a bit, the lingering spark cooling.

“I trust you’re not going to do anything stupid like trying to run off,” Vox said.

“Do I look like a moron to you?” you said, the words out more resentful than you intended.

“Of course not. But you and I both know you’ve been a bit out of sorts lately,” he said, “Acting irrationally.”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” you said sarcastically

You feel your face contort in fear as the last word hangs in the air and Vox raises an eyebrow at you. Shit. He stares at you blankly for a minute taking a strand of hair in his claws, causing you to flinch. He smirks at that.

“Hmph, well, I suppose you just need some stress relief,” he said, “Which I’ll be more than happy to assist you with very, very soon.”

---

You were filled with apprehension the night of the outing. Your stomach turned as you sat in the restaurant, so stressed from your situation that you had a headache. At least, that’s what you told yourself it was, as the alternative reason was much more unpleasant. Part of you wondered if your nerves were a wreck from your confinement. You hadn’t been out around people in forever. Even if it was a relatively short time period, it was clear that being isolated for so long was having an affect on your mental durability in public. Everything just felt like it was too much. The loud noises of the city and bright lights in the restaurant unnerved you. You just wanted to take a remote and turn down the intensity of the room.

You supposed alcohol made a good substitute for that.

You started pouring yourself another cup, some of the wine spilling onto the table as you overfilled it. Before you could pick it up though, Vox took it.

“Hey, give that back,” you said, unable to grasp it as he held it out of your reach.

“F/N, you’re going to pass out at this rate,” Vox said.

“S-so?” you said.

“So I don’t want to drag a half dead woman around town for people to gawk at,” he said.

You tense as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him.

“And… I would prefer it if you actually were awake when we spend time together tonight,” he said.

Well, clearly Vox wasn’t as stupid as you’d been hoping. He never was. You had partially been downing alcohol like it was water in the hopes that you’d be so out of it that whatever gross fantasies he fulfilled with you would be lost in a hazy blur. You didn’t want to remember it when you woke up in the morning.

“… of course,” you said.

“Why don’t you eat some more?” he said, “Try to clear your mind.”

You didn’t really want to though. You liked shrimp, but something about this dish was making you feel nauseous. You weren’t sure if it had gone bad or if you just weren’t in the mood stomach anything knowing what was going through his head. Not wanting to irritate him though, you picked at the dish a little. Damn it, you had done this to have one more night of imagined partial freedom, and you couldn’t even do that. Pathetic.

“I don’t feel well,” you whined, “It’s too loud in here. And the light is hurting my eyes. Can’t someone turn it down?”

“You’re so needy, dearest,” Vox said, but he called your waitress over.

“Dim the lights for us,” he said.

The waitress looked a little nervous.

“What do you not know how to turn down a light?” he asked.

“No! I do! It’ll just be a second!” she said.

She brought over a spare chair and stood on it, trying to reach the light. One of her large horns twisted in the glass beads, getting tangle.

“I know what I’m doing! I promise,” she said, looking panicked.

You weren’t so sure about that as she lost her footing and she swung off the chair, kicking her feet erratically through the air. Not wanting to get smacked in the face you ducked. You wondered if the alcohol had knocked you out and this was just some weird hangover dream.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Vox yelled.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I just-!”

Before she could finish, the chandelier could no longer take her weight and fell onto the table and floor, shattering into a million pieces, wire torn and dragged out from the ceiling. The electric charge in them was still quite strong though, some of them sparking with a life of their own, twisting and sputtering.

“What the fUuuuUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk-k-k-k?”

Before Vox could move out of the way the wire had made contact with one of the openings on the back of his head, sending him shocking and jolting. His face flew through a hundred different images, colors flying across it as static burst from his head. His entire body jolted as it overflowed with electricity.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” the waitress shrieked.

“I-I… c-c-c-ca-a-an’t…” Vox tried to speak, his entire head buzzing at the overload of electricity before he slumped over, knocked out. His screen was all black. As he went out, he fell forward and the wire disconnected. The sparking and burning had stopped, but there was a foul smell in the air, like something was burning.

You watched as your waitress started to panic.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit,” she said, “I’m so, so sorry! L-let me get my boss! We’ll fix this!”

Several other wait staff had walked over, and even some other customers turned their heads at the commotion. This was going to look really bad on the restaurant if they didn’t do something. At some point, you saw the waitress hurrying back, her boss with her. As they neared, more people crowded around the scene.

“Are you ok, ma’am? Are you hurt at all?” a waiter asked, helping you stand and move away from the wires and glass.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled.

It had all happened so fast you barely had time to mentally catch up to what was happening. The waiter walked you over to a nearby empty table, sitting you down.

“Why don’t you just wait here?” he said.

“O-ok, sure…” you said.

You stared at the scene of panicked people for a minute, brain fuzzy, before standing up. No one even glanced in your direction as you started to wander towards the entrance of the building. It wasn’t like people knew who you were or cared, and everyone had seen what had happened. They were all too worried about Hell’s biggest media manager to notice you.

I’m not running away. Of course not. It’s not like there’s anywhere to go anyway.

But your body was telling a different story as it pushed passed the waitstaff to the door. You walked out of the building, shaking a little from your inebriated state. You could do this though. You could walk a straight line. Right, you could do this. It’s not like you were running away. No, you weren’t that stupid. Just taking a little walk. Just one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right- Escape. Escape. Now’s your chance. Find a place with no cameras. Don’t let him catch you. Don’t let him find you. Don’t-

Hurk.

No, no, no. This wasn’t the time to get sick. But either you were too stressed or that shrimp really must have gone bad, because there was no holding back what wanted to come out. Before you knew it, you were bent over the public trash can vomiting up the little you had been eating and the fountain of wine you had been drinking.

“You all right, dear?” you heard someone saying

I’m puking over an outdoor trash bin, genius, what do you think?

You hurled for a few more seconds before pausing, coughing a little. You took a deep breath before looking up woozily at the concerned face who was looking down at you. And you really had to look up, not only because you were still learning over the trash can, but because of how tall the person was that you had been talking you. Once you laid eyes on him, you would have gasped if your throat didn’t burn with acid.

“A-Alastor?” you managed to choke out.

“The one and only, darling,” he said, “Glad to know my reputation proceeds me.”

He was taller than you had imagined, and his face disconcerting. While you had seen pictures and drawings, they had not been able to quite capture the eerie cheerfulness that his smile held, so large against his thin frame. A suppressed chill ran through your body at the knowledge that you were talking to your boss’s proclaimed “nemesis.”

“W-what are you doing here?” you said.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“N-no! Sorry, I just… I’ve never seen you in person,” you said, “I never thought I’d… Well, my boss h-hates you.”

While he continues to smile, you can tell by his eyes that he isn’t too impressed by your state. You probably smelled and looked as gross as you felt, half-drunk and wobbly.

“Does he now?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you continued, “You know him. The big ass TV demon with the red glowey eyes?”

“Oh, so you’re Vox’s then?” he said.

“No!” you said, a bit too forcefully, “I’m not Vox’s! I’m not anyone’s! I don’t want to be anyone’s.”

He tilts his head a bit.

“Is that so?” he said.

“Yeah, n-not yet at least, not ‘till t-tomorrow,” you murmur, waving your hand in front of your face, “Right now, there’s no contract though. S-so I’m… I’m not anybody’s. Least of all his.”

His eyes soften a bit at that, though there is still a coldness in them that is unmistakable.

“Well then,” he said, after a short silence, “I suppose I should leave you to get back to your evening. Word of advice though, elder to younger, don’t do anything that will lead to any permanent consequences you aren’t willing to fulfill.”

Like I haven’t considered that, asshole. I would literally rather sign a contract with anyone else.

…

Wait a minute. You look at him as he starts to turn away.

“W-wait! Mr. Alastor, sir,” you said, “I have to ask you something.”

The idea was solidifying as he turned to look at you.

“If I sold my soul to someone, no one else could have it, right?” you say, hurriedly, near silent.

“Your soul would no longer be yours, so no. Only the owner could sell it to another person,” he said, looking at you thoughtfully, “But that’s not usually something that people have to worry about.”

That damn smile on his face was really creeping you out. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea sitting in the back of your half drunk mind. But you know what? You didn’t really care. What choice did you have? You were in hell for crying out loud, every path seemed to lead to some kind of shit. But if you weren’t going to get what you wanted, neither was your unrequited admirer. This was Vox’s biggest enemy, right? Nothing would upset him more than knowing that not only would you never belong to him, but you belonged to the man he hated more than anything else.

That was more than enough reason for you.

“I want to sell you my soul,” you said.

He cocked his head thoughtfully.

“You must be in a desperate pinch to want that,” he said, “And what would you like in exchange, my dear?”

You hadn’t even really thought of that. Your only thought at the moment had been to make yourself inaccessible to Vox, and your mind was still kind of hazy. It only made sense you get something out of it though. Something decent. Through the fog, an idea crept into your mind.

“I… I want you to make it where I can’t show up on screens, like you,” you said, “I want to be impossible to capture on film.”

As you said the words you held out your hand.

“We have a deal,” he said.

And with that he clamped onto your hand with his own, the room glowing green with magic. While it pulsed with energy, it was nothing like what you had felt when you had made the deal with Vox. It was a warm flurry that filled you from head to toe. You could feel the sensation of something tightening around your chest, much tighter than when you had made your earlier deal. It crept all the way into your neck before you felt like you were going to choke it was so tight before finally disappearing. A part of you thought you were going to throw up again.

“You going to be all right there?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m f-fine,” you manage, hands on your knees for a second.

Apparently that was a lie, as you literally spill your guts onto the pavement.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Alastor said.

You cough again, straightening. You felt a bit better after that one.

“S-sorry,” you mutter.

“No need to apologize, dearest,” he said, “Now, since we have come to an agreement, I think we should discuss some things.”

“Well, I’m not really-”

“F/N?”

You froze as you heard your name being called. You turned to see Vox walking down the stairs, his face back on. A chill ran through you. That was fast. Someone must have reached into his head and turned a switch to reset him. He looked a bit dazed still, but not enough to be too impaired by it.

“There you are,” he said, “I thought I was going to have to start looking through every camera in this city to find you. What did I tell you... about…”

He glared when he saw who was standing next to you.

“Get the hell away from my employee,” he said, immediately aggressive at the sight of his rival.

Alastor looked at Vox, his eyes holding amusement and his grin turning more mischievous.

“Hm… no, I don’t think so,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Vox said.

“I’m afraid she belongs to me now,” Alastor said.

“I’m sorry, she what?!” Vox’s voice cracking with static.

“Your employee – or should I says ex-employee – has made a binding deal with an Overlord, which means in exchange for a service I provided, she has given me h-”

“I know what a demonic deal is, dickwad!” he yelled.

“Well then, the situation should be perfectly clear to you,” Alastor said. You had no idea how he was able to remain so calm when it was so obvious that Vox was on the verge of exploding, perhaps literally. As severity of the situation dawned on him, he turned his burning, furious eyes on you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vox said, “Of all the assholes in hell you choose to bind yourself to other than me, you pick this one?!”

You don’t say anything to him. For a second you look directly at him and tremble at the amount of terrifying wrath you see emanating from his body. Another feeling stirs in your chest though. A sick satisfaction at the fact that he is so upset. After all the control he had deprived you of for the last few months, it felt right to finally put him in a situation where he had zero control over things.

“We already made a deal! You can’t just sell your soul to him!” he yelled.

“Well, apparently, the deal wasn’t strong enough to chain her to you in any way considering she was able to sell her soul to me at all,” said Alastor, “And I don’t know what deals you’ve made previously with her, but if she has failed to fulfill any of them, as the owner of her soul I have the right to forfeit them. If you’d like to discuss what it is she was supposed to give you, perhaps we can work something out. Unless you failed to uphold your end of the bargain?”

He look flustered, but before he could really say anything you murmured, “Y-you only upheld half the bargain. S-so I don’t have anything I owe you.”

Confusion clouded his eyes for a brief second before he seemed to realize what you were talking about.

“Are you really trying to play the damn exact wording game with me?” he said, storming towards you, “You selfish little conniving bitch!”

You yelped as he grabbed your arm, his claws digging into your flesh to the point where you could feel skin beginning to break. Small splurts of blood formed on your flesh. His face was so livid though that you had a feeling that this was the least of your concerns.

“You better enjoy this while it last, because once I’m done with Alastor, I am going to hang his sorry excuse of a deer carcass on my office wall,” he said between gritted teeth, “And you are going to be begging to go back to the previous arrangement we discussed when I finally get my hands on y-”

He stops speaking as a black tentacle smacks him in the face, almost sending him off of his feet.

“That’s quite ungentlemanly of you, Vox,” Alastor said, “Treating a lady like that. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t touch what’s mine.”

Vox had a hand up on his screen, a large crack on the right side of his screen. It reached all the way down from the top down to where his cheek would have been. A small piece of glass was hanging by a wire.

“What the f-?! Ugh!” Vox yelled, “You are going to regret that! Both of you!”

He backed down though. As mad as he was, you both knew it was a losing battle if he tried to fight Alastor one on one right now. One hand trying to hold up the falling piece, he turned to walk away, grumbling under his breath. As he left your line of vision, you leaned against the wall, rubbing your eyes. You even felt yourself tear up a little involuntarily. You had truly thought there wasn’t going to be a way out of this.

“T-Thank y-you,” you said. If you weren’t scared crapless of this guy, you would have gotten on your knees and kissed his feet right there.

“There’s truly no need to thank me for anything,” Alastor said, “You are mine now. It’s in both of our interests that I protect you.”

Not really listening to what he was saying, you nod. It was awkwardly quiet for a minute or two as you wiped at your face, trying to get a hold of yourself. Damn it, you were wasted. Finally you felt like you could talk again.

“I-I guess, I’d better hit the road,” you say.

Though to be honest, you don’t even know where that is at the moment, considering you don’t have any money or job or anything really. Before you can walk off though, Alastor places a hand on your shoulder.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“Oh, um… well, I wasn’t- I don’t have to go if you’d rather I didn’t,” you said.

“I should hope not,” he said, “Besides, I’ve already been thinking. There’s a lot of work I have that you can do.”

Well, shit.

I really hope I don’t come to regret this.

#yandere vox #yandere x reader #vox #hazbin hotel

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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Thank you for part 2 on the Vox x Reader I am having a fantastic time!!

Im just imaging my oc in the reader’s predicament and I love it!!! Looking forward to part 3 pookie!!!!

Thank you! :D So happy that it's bringing you joy! Glad to deliver. ❤️

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 2

Eh, what have you guys done to me. I swear, we Vox fangirls are the thirstiest on the internet right now. Also, officially, I’m making this a three part series, but that’s it. So much for a oneshot. I'll make a title for this series, eventually. Also, if you want to be tagged, please put your age in your bio.

Part One - Part Three

Triggers: Dubcon-y vibes in scenes. Violence and threatening. Read responsibly, stuff is gonna get a little dark this chapter.

Word count: 3,142

---

Vox thought you looked perfect. For once, you were wearing something decent that he bought you instead of one of the plain outfits from before you had moved in. Somehow, you had been convinced to put on actual jewelry and makeup as well. The only flaw you held was the dirty look on your face, which you refused to face towards him directly, and it only got dirtier as you downed more and more wine.

“You know, you could at least attempt to have a good time after all the effort I put into this evening,” he said, “You haven’t even touched your food.”

“Not hungry,” you said, voice ice cold. It always was nowadays.

“If you’re not in the mood for dinner, we could watch a new production I oversaw,” he said, “I think you’d enjoy it.”

You snort at that.

“I’d rather listen to Alastor’s radio program than watch any of the hot trash your production company creates,” you said.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” he said, putting a warning hint into his tone.

“You heard me,” you said, “I’ve gotta say for someone supposedly so modern, you’re still just an old man. Alastor is what? Like twenty years older than you? And you think he’s elderly? You’re practically a decrepit bygone as well. You think anyone gives a shit about cable nowadays? At least Alastor has the decency to make stuff with class and not just forgettable, cheap cash grabs.”

Against his will, he felt a circuit spurt. His hand clenched around the glass and slammed it onto the table, causing you to jump. A small noise left your mouth, as panicked as the look in your eyes was now. You looked like you knew that you had pushed a little more than you probably should have.

“You know what?” he hissed, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Fine. You wanna play rough with me? Well guess what, I’m going to fuck that bad attitude right out of you!”

“Excuse me???”

You didn’t even look scared at that just shocked and baffled, as if that had been the last thing you had expected to hear.

“You heard me!” he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you flat onto the couch, “I’m sick of you fighting me. Well, you’re not going to after this.”

“W-wait, Vox, stop-”

He smashed his lips to yours, purposefully being harsh, biting you when you tried to keep your mouth closed. When you attempted to turn your face away, he grabbed your chin rough enough where he knew it would leave a mark before kissing you harder. You pounded your fist against his chest, but he ignored it, straddling you. He eventually used his other hand to grab your wrist and push it into the couch.

He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in your struggle something shifted in the air. Changed. You had finally stopped fighting, slowly wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing him back. It was heavenly, you finally submitting to him. Yes, yes, yes… He paused to look you in the eyes, to see your timid gaze and red face. There was still a look of anger glazed across your features, but it was fading. He brought his hand up to play at the buttons on your blouse. You looked at each other for a second longer before you initiated a kiss for once, using the arm around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue felt so hot, so right, as if your body was as electric as his own and-

Vox gasped, a spark running through his head. He woke up alone in bed, a literal hot mess. He felt like his head was overheating, running a million miles a minute, despite the fact that he should feel cold from sleep. Mixing this with the slick sweat and fluid he was covered in, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Groping for the robe hanging next to his bed, he climbed out. What a dream. He needed a second to wire down from that before trying to go back to sleep.

He picked up his phone and opened it to check on you. The camera in your room showed you curled up on your mattress, blanket half off your body and arms wrapped around one of your pillows. It pressed into your dozing face, which held a peaceful, relaxed look that he rarely saw now that you had decided to go to war with him. His finger absently stroked your image on the screen.

Why did you have to be so difficult? He didn’t know what had been the powder keg that had kicked off your little rebellion, but whatever it was, all his attempts to nip it in the bud had made you more temperamental. Clearly his irritation with your behavior had seeped into his mind enough to create some… darker fantasies deep in his sleeping subconscious.

He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, he already had been thinking about what to do next, to give you that little push you needed to be more agreeable.

---

Later that day he scoffed at how ridiculous his own morbid imagination was. The idea of you dressed all pimped up like one of Valentino’s whores. You barely got out of bed nowadays. If he was being honest, your imprisonment had caused your mood to swing between defiant temper tantrums and a hopelessly depressed sloth. Today, you were in the latter mood, still in pajamas that he swore you were wearing two days ago, lying on the couch and mindlessly eating as you watched some random reality show.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he said, trying to sound pleasant, “Looks like you’ve had a relaxing day.”

You glance at him for a second before looking back at the television. The blanket is pulled tighter around you, as if you were trying to hide any inch of yourself from him. Ever since his last attempt at showing his affection had ended in you headbutting him – hard – you had been particularly prickly at even the slightest hint that he might want to touch you.

“What do you want, asshole?” you said, voice lacking emotion.

Charming as always.

“Well, dearest, I was thinking. Now that you’ve had some time to think things over, I was hoping we could finally come to an agreement that would make us both happy,” he said.

“I highly doubt that’s possible,” you said.

He sat beside you, which caused you to curl your legs in tighter. You inch up on the arm a little, as if to sit as far away from him as possible without having to actually put any effort into getting up.

“We both have something that the other person wants, something that could be easily settled with a written contract,” Vox said, “You would like to be allowed to roam around this cesspool of a city and I-”

“Let me guess, it includes a whole paragraph about me never leaving your sight as well as a clause about how often you get to stick yourself in my various orifices?” you grumbled.

“You’re so melodramatic sometimes,” he said, “You always assuming the worst about people, F/N. Makes me wonder if you were double crossed a lot in your previous life.”

You don’t even respond to this, just continue to stare ahead. He’d noticed that lately you’ve been avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure how much you had figured out about his abilities, but you seemed to have pieced enough together that the more you avoided his eyes, the less direct influence he had on you at the moment. He was sure that it was one of the many reasons you were so moody lately; you stubbornly refused to be soothed by him. Regardless, whether you were trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze or not, it’s no matter. It’s not like you’re going to be able to avoid the overall influence he has over this city, especially if you spend your free time watching television he’s created.

“It’s rather tame, considering the situation you’re in. Contract or not, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon,” he continued, “You’re lucky I care for you as much as I do, trying to work with you like this.”

“Hooray for me,” you said.

You really were a brat sometimes. Vox at times wondered if it was because he was too soft on you, and you didn’t realize the amount of actual power he held over you. Either that or you just didn’t care anymore. Whatever. It was all big talk because at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation.

“You already have lots of benefits, which you would retain. Nice apartment, clothes, up to date tech. Besides that, you can come and go regularly, as long as you’re back here within twenty-four from when you last left. You can do whatever you want during that time. You also would be working for me a minimum of forty hours a week, with the occasional granted vacation at my discretion. That’s pretty much it, along with you occasionally being cooperative with my… desires,” he said, “So you’d have plenty of time to yourself. I didn’t put in anything that would force you to do anything too unsavory with me.”

Though he certainly would have liked to be more pushy in that department, he knew going too far could result in the kind of hate fueled relationship Valentino and Angel Dust shared. He honestly didn’t have the energy to have that much drama in his own life. Good night, he could hardly handle the drama that was in his life now. Besides, he was sure you’d come around willingly, even if it took a few centuries.

You glared at him as he finished speaking, as if to say, how generous of you.

From inside his vest, he pulls out the contract and holds it out to you.

“So, we have a deal?” he asked.

You sit up and take the paper, still avoiding his eyes. You seem to be reading it over, though your hold on it is lazy.

“… This still says you can fuck me at least once a week if you want to, or else I’m not allowed to leave the building,” you said, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice shit like that?”

He laughed a bit awkwardly.

“I mean, I did say I would like you to be at least a little cooperative,” he said, crossing his legs, “We could wait a little while if you’d like. I mean, you’d still have more freedom than you do now, even with that minuscule restriction. You should know by now that I’m a patient man.”

You stare at it again, forehead wrinkled.

“You know what… I see where you’re coming from,” you said, finally making eye contact, “Tic for tac, eh?”

“That’s a crude way for you to put it,” he said.

You shrug.

“Crude or not, it’s the truth,” you said, a sardonic smirk appearing on your face, “You want me to give a little to get a little.”

Before he could say anything you hold up your hands with more energy than he’s seen you have in days.

“No, no, no! I understand. I’ve been in hell long enough to know how people like you work. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I’m not stupid! So trust me, I’m being completely serious when I say that I think you should take this lovely contract of yours and shove it up your glowing blue ass!” you ripped it in half on the last word, your smile still present but a nasty look in your eyes.

Vox felt his eye twitch as you continued to smirk at him, tossing the paper at him like you would throw trash across the room. You then lie back down and turn back to the TV, ignoring him again as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened at all. Though you were attempting to pull your face back into the blank expression of earlier, he could see in your eyes a mixture of emotion, rage, yes, but also a certain smugness. What, did you really think you were tough shit for mouthing off to him like that?

He felt like his head was going to explode. Before he even registered how he was reacting, he had grabbed you by the hair and was pulled you back over.

“Ow! What the hell are you doing, Vox?” you yelled, the smug look gone from your eyes, “You’re hurting me!”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I’m trying to be generous to you because I actually like you, but you know what? I’ve clearly spoiled you rotten already!” he fumed.

He was practically seeing red as he dragged you over, causing you to yelp. You try to kick him, but he only grabs onto your ankle and pulls you closer to him, spinning you around so that you were pressed against the back of the couch, his arms on either side of you. His fingers are still gripping your hair, forcing you to turn your head towards him.

“You know, you’re right, who needs a contract?” he said, “I can do whatever the hell I want with you, and what are you going to do about it?”

Your voice cracked as you attempted to speak, but he didn’t pay any attention to what you were trying to say. He could feel his systems overloading with the amount of rage he was feeling, shouting over you.

“I hope you like the view from up here, because you’re staying here for the rest of your miserable eternal exist. You can work and live here 24/7,” he said, “Anything else we should change in the arrangement? You didn’t like the idea of fucking me once a week? Fine by me. Why not once a day? Twice a day? Every hour? Would you like that better? Huh? Answer me!”

As he finished speaking, he finally heard what you were saying, “-m sorry! I’m sorry, please, stop!

As he heard your pleading, he felt himself being brought back down to earth. While his rage was still present, your begging brought him back to reality, and it was finally registering how upset you were. Hysterical. Terrified. You were sobbing, more afraid of him than he had ever seen you, even on the worst days of your fighting.

“D-d-don’t hurt me. I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t hurt me!”

He released your hair with a rapid exhale, and you automatically moved your head away from him, arms shielding your face. Shaking, it was sinking in just emotionally distraught you were, as well as the damage he had done to the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he had been digging his claws into the polyester, a row of gnashes beside your head. The situation was completely getting out of control. He pushed himself off of you and turned away. He didn’t even say anything, just left the room and went through the wires to his office. His head was overheating, and he was going to crash at this rate if he didn’t calm down.

Damn it! He hated how out of control you made him feel. It was pathetic. There was only one other person he could think of that made him get near as frustrated as he was feeling with you at the moment. He wasn’t the kind to act out, and here he was acting almost as ridiculous as his business partner did. The only saving grace was that Vox at least tried to keep his infatuation as quiet and private as possible.

It was more than his emotional irregularity though. The fact that he felt this way at all about you was humiliating. Affection, fondness, it was a weakness, and he knew it. Valentino got away with just having simple lust and taking what he wanted, but genuine affection demanded gentleness and tenderness. It was beyond him just not being able to do as he pleased with you, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to come to him willingly. It was the thing holding him back from just hypnotizing you into his arms or using a “love” potion, and now he had probably set any progress towards your affection back significantly.

He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to cool down a little. What was going on up there? He was going to end up doing something rash, something he regretted, if he didn’t get things under control and under control fast. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what. Nothing had gone how he had wanted it to. He would need to rethink his approach.

---

You spent a long time shaking on the couch, arms and blanket wrapped around you, crying. You were an idiot. Clearly your brain was turning to mush just sitting around the house all day. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away with speaking like that to an Overlord of Hell?

There had to be a way out of this place. Had to. But the more you thought about it, the more impossible it felt. Even if you did manage to get out of the building in one piece, Vox had this entire city under constant watch. Every corner of Pentagram City was crawling with his tech and media. It would take minutes if not seconds for him to find you and bring you back by force. At this point, maybe you should just sign a contract with the douchebag. Surely, he’d get bored of you eventually, right? Maybe if you got lucky he’d even get killed off one of these days in an extermination, and you’d be off the hook completely.

But how long would that take? Decades? A century or two? What if he never tired of you? Eternal death or not, you didn’t want to spend that much time living and sleeping with some psycho you hated. No. That wasn’t an option. You weren’t going to do that. But what then? You had thought he was going to literally rip your head off just a few minutes ago for telling him no. You were pretty sure things weren’t going to get less volatile around here if you kept rejecting him.

You wiped at your tear soaked face with a tissue and tossed it across the room. It’s light material just sent it floating to the ground though. It looked as pathetic as you felt.

“Damn it,” you cursed, smashing your head into a throw pillow and lying back down, “I hate this fucking place.”

#yandere x reader #vox #vox x reader #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #Eh I can't believe I wrote this and actually published it for people to read.

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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I LOVED LOVED LOVED yandere vox x secretary reader Would u ever do a part two. Maybe of the reader actually getting a contract or better yet Reader figuring out a way to get alastor to help her out of here.

Aw, thank you! Glad you enjoyed it! And yes, currently it's in the works, in my brain.

#you are all so sweet

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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Can I say that Vox x reader was so well written like it was so in character and the Hypnotic gaze thing was so creative like it wasn’t weird it was like “oh wait is he hypnotizing the reader oh shit he is!!” To keep them calm and not so aggressive that’s a cool creative way! I look forward to more honestly!!

Thank you! I'm being sincere when I say that someone saying my characters were in character is a very high compliment in my mind, because that is my biggest pet peeve when reading fanfic, when characters are not in character. Appreciate your kind words!

Also, I want to take this time to say that I will be working on a part two, as many people have been asking about that.

#thank you #you guys are the best

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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

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Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

#yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #yandere vox #vox x reader

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thatanimeramenchick · 3 months

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Five Love Languages: Dark/Yandere Edition

Let’s take a perfectly wholesome good thing like the Five Love Languages and make it dark and toxic because… I don’t know, I’m literally the worst.

TW: Mentions on dub/non con and verbal abuse; Just general dark romance stuff

Words of Affirmation

Words are powerful. The pen is mightier than the sword, as it sways the heart. Your lover here will let you know just how much they care for you and every single detail of what they find lovely about you. This is in the typical compliments, but also can be expressed in sweet love letters or messages. At the same time, they will expect you to reciprocate in like manner. If you two are in a more… turbulent era of your relationship, they may withhold things until you tell them what they want to hear and in the proper sweet tone that they expect.

They may also use verbal intimidation to control you. I see them as knowing how to use their tongue to make you feel weak and helpless without them. Also may be the type to tell you that you're "mine" or "you belong to me" if they're on the more dominant side.

Triggers: A fast way to get yourself smacked in the face is to say that you hate them. There are lots of creative ways to rip their heart out though if you have a fast mouth and wit. Pointing out failures, flaws, relationship issues, past traumas will all really get under their skin, and depending on their personality, it may result in some volatile reactions from your “lover.”

Headcannon Examples: France, Vox

Quality Time

They never want to spend a moment apart from you. If it was up to them, they would have you with them 24/7. This can be impractical though, so, they may simply settle for having you in a closed off space and being able to check in on you whenever they want. I see this also manifesting in nosiness. What are you doing and why? Surely if you aren’t doing anything wrong, you have nothing to hide? Besides this, there is a demand for constant undivided attention. When they want you to watch them do something or interact with them, they expect you to do so.

Triggers: The fastest way to piss them off is to purposefully ignore them. The cold shoulder or the silent treatment will get you disciplined. You want to act like you’re too good for them to respond? They’ll find a way to get your attention, and you’re probably not going to enjoy it.

Headcannon Examples: America, Lelouch Vi Britannia, Russia

Acts of Service

Of all the languages of love, this is the most subtle and faithful. I see these types liking to take the time to “observe” their lover and put in the extra work to make their life pleasant, especially if they’re on the more subservient side. Especially submissive yandere may do all they can to help you achieve your goals. More domineering ones will express this quite differently. Acts of service may also be displayed in wanting you to completely dependent on them. They may upend your life from behind the scenes just so you can be rescued and cared for by them. They can then be your knight in shining armor, saving and caring for you like no one else ever could. More controlling ones may also expect you to assist them in their daily life or with their dirty work.

Triggers: Destroying or interfering with their goals or work. If you’re going to be a spiteful little brat and ruin their life's work, you're going to learn who's in charge around here. While they don’t believe life is tic for tac, you could at least not have the decency to mess with what isn't your business.

Headcannon Examples: Alastor, Germany, Light Yagami

Gifts

It’s said that your money is where your heart is, and these men believe that. These types take a special giddy joy in buying you things that they know you will enjoy and seeing the look on your face when you receive them. Some of these gifts may be a bit inappropriate for the status of your relationship, such as fine jewelry if you are only friends. If they are the stalking type, they may send you presents based on what they have observed you looking at when you are at the store or online.

On a darker note, I see these types as liking to “collect” little gifts from their lover. And I don’t just mean collecting what you leave lying around. Depending on how extreme they are, they will root through your bags, lockers, drawers, and even your trash to find things to remind them of you. There’s really nothing like lying in bed and breathing in your scent through an old sweater they found in your closet.

Triggers: For your sake, let’s hope you never find their little museum of items. Even if you don’t though, you’re going to be in for it if they give you something important, and you purposefully dispose of it or happen to lose it.

Headcannon Examples: Canada, L, Phantom of the Opera

Physical Touch

These are types who may be guilty of forced kissing, hugging, and hand holding, as well as insisting you sleep beside them at night. If you are distressed, their solution may be to sit you in their lap and cuddle you until you calm down. I can see this type as falling into the type who is shy and only likes being touchy feely with you, as well as someone who is just touchy in general and therefore wants to shower you with their “love.”

Despite physical touch being their main way of accepting affection, I don’t see them typically trying to rape you, at least not forcefully. I actually see them as being the least likely to do something like that. Physical touch is an expression of love and tenderness, and forcing themselves on you would be the ultimate betrayal of that love. They aren’t above manipulating you into the act though, which would still obviously be along the dubcon/noncon lines. I just don’t see them being directly violent about it.

Triggers: Being physically violent, especially when they are trying to be physically affectionate. Biting or headbutting them when trying to kiss you comes to mind. Physical touch is supposed to be a gentle expression of love, how could you be so cruel as to not only deny them that, but to retaliate with harshness?

Headcannon Examples: North Italy

#dark romance #yandere #yandere x reader

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thatanimeramenchick · 3 months

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Sometimes, I'm mortified by the cringe I write, and then I remember the second hand embarrassment I got from the infamous Verbalase video and I feel much better about myself.

#verbalase #hazbin hotel

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thatanimeramenchick · 3 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do something for Yander Lucifer from Hazbin(this man as me in a choke hold I swear!) with a hellhound reader who works for Charlie at the Hotel? if not that’s alright!

Lucifer and Hellhound Reader

Honestly, same, sis. Same. Let’s just say I’d also pay 50,000 for that man. I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t know how to write this at first, but I think I was able to work with it after some thinking. Thanks for your patience!

TW: Attempted SA

---

It was no secret that hell was overrun, and not just by the sinners, though there was a ridiculous amount of them. It was everywhere, especially in the lowest class of hellhounds. The pounds were overflowing with the abandoned canine youth. You had expected that eventually someone would “adopt” you for the free brunt labor you would have to offer their company.

But fate had smiled on you for once. You now stood in the hall of a hotel owned by the princess of hell, waiting with the other guests and “employees” as Charlie hyperventilated about her father’s first visit to her hotel. You could remember her voice from the day she had taken you in.

“Hey, what are you doing out on the street in the rain? You should come inside, even if for a little while. Get out of the rain.”

You had finally aged out of the system six months ago and been kicked out on the streets, and you’d wandered from town to town, unable to find decent work. Now, you had made it to Pentagram City, sure you would find something. You were having a hard time finding anything that wasn’t sex or drug related. And now you had some kind of offer coming from the tall, pale girl in front of you. You had hesitated to take the offer though. A hotel? For all you knew it could be a brothel or something.

“Charlie, you need to come in. It’s a mess out here,” you heard.

The girl talking to you yelled back, “In a minute, Vaggie! Hey, it’s ok. I promise you don’t have to pay anything, and you can stay as long as you’d like! If you hate it, I swear you can leave!”

Normally, you would have turned it down. Trust was something that didn’t really exist in your life. There was something in her eyes though, a certain… genuine look in her eyes that you hadn’t seen since you were a pup.

“All right,” you acquiesced, nerves in your stomach. At the first sign of anything odd, you would be bolting.

But it hadn’t been a lie. Somehow, in hell of all places, there was something good, kind, wholesome. You had staid overnight, and true to her word, Charlie had continued to let you crash as the days went by. Feeling a little guilty crashing without offering anything, you offered to help clean a little here and there, and then found they had no regular chef and had offered to try to provide regular food. Food that was only half edible, but still, Charlie insisted it was better than nothing.

And now, you were living with the princess of hell full time. It was a quiet life, and you didn’t want to do anything to upset that. So, nervous as you were, you remained in the background as much as possible as Charlie welcomed her father in and showed off her hotel.

“And this is F/N! Vaggie and I took her in and now she works here! She does a lot of cooking and some tidying as well.”

You bow.

“It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty,” you say.

He barely glances in your direction but does acknowledge you with an awkward smile. Soon, he is back talking with Charlie. While you didn’t know about him, he seemed pleasant enough and to care for his daughter. You could see where Charlie got her cheerfulness from.

Not exactly what you had expected from the king of hell.

---

You felt so stupid. You can’t believe you had ever compared the innocent honesty of Charlie to her father’s lies. He had told Charlie that he needed help. Not long after his visit, he had told Charlie he needed assistance with his organizing his inventive work, and she had asked if you would be willing to help. You had agreed, trusting her, and you had been moving back and forth between the two places for weeks, both before and after the mess at the failed Extermination Day. From all you could tell, he had a sort of non-interest in you, though he did appreciate your work.

Apparently though, at some point, something had changed. It was subtle, but you caught the lingered gazes, the softer tone he used, the almost nervous way he laughed around you when something humerus came up in conversation. You hadn’t thought anything of it, but apparently there was something deeper there, as you had learned a few days ago.

You had started on your way back to the hotel, insisting you walk even though it was late in the evening, and someone had grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and yanked you into one of the many dark alleys.

“Look, a fresh bitch.”

“Looks like she hasn’t been too roughed up yet.”

You had attempted to bite down on the hands grabbing at you, but it was difficult if not impossible. You felt your clothes being ripped at before a light blinded you, and apparently, everyone else in the ally. You felt yourself being dropped on the ground as the light radiated from the sky.

“You dare to touch a servant of Lucifer?” you heard, though you couldn’t see him through the blinding light.

The men didn’t even have time to respond. You didn’t see what happened as screams enveloped the air. When the light finally cleared, you saw Lucifer standing before you, ash and dust in the air.

“You all right?” he asked.

You were still quite shaken and barely had the strength to reply.

“Yes. T-thank you,” you said.

“… You should probably come back,” he said.

“What?”

“Back to the house. It’s closer than the hotel. Just to get some rest. You shouldn’t have to worry about going to the hotel after something like that.”

“O-ok….”

Looking back, you should have found it strange he didn’t offer to just teleport you back to the hotel... or the fact that he knew you were in danger in the first place.

---

“You could stay,” he said.

“What?” you had asked.

It was a four days since the incident.

“That way you don’t have to make the long trip every day. There’s plenty of room here for you,” he said it casually, as if making a business proposition.

“No, that’s all right, I don’t mind the walk,” you said.

He frowned.

“You might not mind the walk, but it’s not the safest idea,” he said, “You don’t want something happening like it did the other day.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said, “I bought some mace. You know, the special made with murder hornets and Carolina reaper mace that you only get in hell.”

You laugh it off, not too worried, but he doesn’t seem to share your amusement. He shrugs and lets the subject drop though.

---

It had been a week since the incident, and you were seething.

He had locked you away.

Like you were a pet or possession.

Nothing had happened the day before, at least that was what you insisted. But he didn't seem to care. He said it wasn’t true. That men were leering at you, thinking of hurting you, violating you. You were too innocent to even notice it, and he had to keep you locked up, even if you didn’t understand it.

“This is for your own good. You know how dangerous hell is,” Lucifer was speaking in a calm tone, not making eye contact with you. He spoke as if you were a child throwing a tantrum for not being allowed to run onto the freeway.

“And you think the solution is to keep me locked away like a pet?” you yelled, “What is your life so out of control that you have to control me instead?”

It probably wasn’t a bright idea to talk back to the lord of hell, but he doesn’t even look fazed. If he is upset by your words, it doesn’t show.

“You’ll see. You know I’m right. If anything, you should know that better than anyone. Hell is out of control, and considering you don’t have a soul in the same way sinners do, I would think you would be more understanding of my desire to keep you safe.”

“Safe? If you cared at all about my safety, you would have worked to make hell a better place like your daughter did, rather than staying locked away and moping about how lonely you are. It’s pathetic and cowardly, not facing the mess that been it’s said that you created, even now.”

A certain dark look crossed his face briefly, but he pushed it away before looking at you. He took a slow breath.

“You are too young to know what you’re talking about. If it wasn’t for my ‘mess,’ you wouldn’t even be here right now. Clearly, you’re too emotional to think straight right now. I think you need some time to cool off.”

As he finishes his words, he disappears in a flash of mist, leaving you alone. A snarl of frustration escapes your mouth as he dissipates.

---

Some Thoughts: I think the idea of Lucifer falling in love with a hellborn actually makes more sense to some extent. At least I see him being more receptive to someone who was simply born and abides in hell than someone who earned a place in hell from their bad behavior. From what Lute said, I’m pretty sure Lucifer has protected the hellborn from extermination, showing that he holds them on a different level than the sinners, at least to some extent. He may look at you as something innocent he wants to protect from corruption.

#yandere x reader #lucifer #hazbin hotel #yandere lucifer morningstar

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