#I just listened to Extermination again and had feelings. that's all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

polyo-nym-y · 1 year ago

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The Pushy Demon.

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Alastor x Female!Reader

[WARNINGS: Al fucks you in the elevator, you’re stubborn and put up a fight despite liking him, rough fuck, manhandling, dubcon??reader says stop but doesn’t really mean it, p in v sex etc etc MDNI!!!NSFW!!!!]

This is unedited so be warned !

I am once again posting a discord inspired prompt. This is for you guys ;3 I hope you enjoy it.

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Initially, you thought the Hazbin Hotel was God's last gift to you. You thought he might’ve taken pity on your poor sinful soul. That hopeful thinking died quickly on your very first day there.

Because this was Hell after all and every sinner was doomed to live eternity in agony. And agony is exactly how you’d describe your current situation.

It has been months now that you’ve suffered Alastors attacks. Since day one he seemed to target you as he actively sought you out. He relished every reaction he coaxed out of you with every tease and jab.

But it wasn’t his teasing that actually brought you agony. No, rather so it was the realization that you had grown quite fond of it. You used to groan at his jests and feel nothing but annoyance. But now? Now you felt a blush rising to your cheeks. His mere presence now seemed to wash waves of burning heat over you. You’d sooner double die than give him the satisfaction in knowing your fondness for him, though.

For a while this task was easy as the extermination date drew closer and closer. Alastor kept himself busy and a part of you felt upset that he wasn't making any effort to chase you. You felt like a silly child when your disappointment morphed into jealousy, eyes watching him pour his focus onto others. You knew it was ridiculous to feel envy as he showed more attention to the hotel. Which is exactly why you made an effort to avoid him completely now.

Alastor was perceptive, however, and your obvious avoidance didn't go unnoticed. At first he was amused by it as he watched you hurriedly run from him any time you saw him. But the game was getting old and he was growing bored. So when he heard from Charlie that you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be attending today's lesson, he was more than annoyed.

He sat in the foyer amongst the other residents, his eyes staring at Charlie and Vaggie. He pretended to listen as his talons tapped the arm of the chair rhythmically. He unfortunately found his mind wandering to you as he tuned out the lesson. Knowing well that you were not sick and that this was going to end tonight.

His ears twitched as he heard a faint shuffle across the lobby. His eyes didnt leave Charlie as his shadow looked for him. When he saw you peeking around a corner he had to fight the laugh that wanted to slip out. How cute.

You watched from a distance as they all attended that day's lesson. Your eyes lingered over Alastor as that stupid envy bubbled back up within you, upset that his eyes weren't on you. Disgusted with yourself you quickly turned on your heels and began walking back towards the elevator.

You didnt hear the lesson suddenly stop nor did you hear Alastor curtly excuse himself. You did however hear the familiar clacking of shoes trailing behind you. Instinctively you quickened your strides as you stared at the Elevator door just ahead of you. Surely it wasn't him, you thought, he didn't see you right?

You got your answer when you glanced over your shoulder. Alastors tall figure radiated annoyance as his long legs closed the distance at a terrifying rate. Without even thinking you broke into a sprint as you rushed forward. Your hands fighting against the metal lattice door as it got jammed. But once you finally opened it you stumbled into the brightly lit elevator, hands quickly trying to shove the still jammed door closed. A large black hand shot out as it stopped the cage door from closing, his dark gaze peering through the bars down at you.

“Going up? How perfect! So am I!” His smile widened as his eyes trailed down your throat, watching you swallow that delicious mix of fear and nervousness. He waited for you to drop your hands from the door before he slammed it open roughly. The act earned a flinch from you as you stepped back into the far corner.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you forced your nerves into annoyance. A glare being sent up to him as he cheerfully stepped inside and closed you both in. “I thought you were supposed to be attending today's lesson.”

“And I thought you were sick.”

“I was feeling better… but now I’m feeling worse.”

He pressed the top floor before glancing to his side, to you. You quirked your brow as you watched him look you up and down. “Hm, you do look terrible.”

Your eye twitched as you watched his shit eating grin grow. You bit back the remark you wanted to give him and chose to instead lean into the corner. Your eyes staring at the ground as you tried to ignore him.

The elevator rattled to life after a delay before it began to ascend. Alastor began to hum as he stepped closer to you. Your hands clutched around yourself tighter as you stepped away but Alastor only followed. With your shoulder now pressed against the cold metal wall Alastor made himself comfortable against your other shoulder. His larger body purposefully pressing against you.

Your heart began to race now that you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about him. Feeling the warmth of his body and the tingling static that hung in the air around him. You were contorting trying to avoid his touch, your face pressing into the wall. Alastors hum grew lower as he cocked his head, his deep gaze watching you carefully. With an annoyed groan you pushed yourself from the wall and away from him, shuffling to stand across from him. “UGH- this has to stop!”.

“You’re right, my dear, this does need to stop.”

“Wha-” Before you could even question what he meant the elevator began to stutter. The lights flickered above you as you reached your hands out trying to steady yourself. Suddenly the elevator came to a screeching halt as the lights went out completely, the only thing visible was Alastors glowing eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine when your eyes met his in the dark, the intense look had you frozen in place. He’d snap his fingers “Tch, looks like the elevator broke, how unfortunate.” A chuckle left him as you watched his eyes draw closer, his heels clicking as he took a single step forward. You sucked in a nervous breath as you stepped back, the metal cage rattling behind you.

“Alastor..” you warned as he took another slow step forward. “Turn it back on.”

“Turn what back on? You’re not insinuating that I have anything to do with this, are you?” He feigned offense. “I’m stuck in this predicament just as you are.”

You watched his eyes, the only thing you could see, as he continued to step forward. Stumbling, you felt your way along the wall as you side stepped him just before he caged you in. “Alastor, stay away from me-”.

A growl left him as he turned to follow your figure in the dark. “And why should I?” He hesitated for a moment before his grin widened. His eyes slipped closed and suddenly you were completely bathed in darkness. You swallowed nervously as you tried to make out where he was. The elevator creaked and suddenly you felt hot breath ghost against your ear “I know you’ve been avoiding me. But why is that, mon cher?”

Your hand flew out to smack him but you hit nothing but air. His voice now came from behind you as you felt sharp claws trail up your back and over your shoulders. “Missed me~” He'd laugh darkly as you opened your mouth to yell at him. But once again his actions silenced you as his large hands roughly pushed you forward.

Your hands flew out before you fell face first into the elevators wall, the force of your body had the elevator swaying and creaking. “FUCK- you wanna know why Im avoiding you?? Its because im fucking tired of playing your stupid games!”.

His hands were on you before you could turn around, a firm grip finding its way around your wrists. He pressed his chest against you as he pinned your body against the wall. You squirmed frantically as you tried wrenching your hands free but he only tightened his hold on you. Pressing you so harshly the cold metal began to sting your cheek. “Oh, darling, do you take me as a fool?” He dipped his head as he grazed his lips against your hair, inhaling your scent with a sigh. “You think I dont notice the red that blossoms on your cheeks? Or how your heart races- just as it is now.”

You gritted your teeth, still too stubborn to tell the truth. “Thats because your horrifying- a pushy demon who doesnt fucking know personal space!”

An unhinged laugh rumbled through his chest and into you. “You want to pretend its fear? Fine, then fear me. I’ll be that horrific demon for you.” Without another word he pressed his hips against the plushness of your ass, grinding into you slowly.

Your body tensed as you felt your stomach begin to flip. You tried to fight against him once more, your body thrashing against his. “AL-” Your words died in your throat as he kicked your legs apart, wedging his knee between your legs. One hand kept a tight hold on your left hand whilst his right arm snaked around your waist. He tugged you up onto his thigh and pressed his knee against the wall, your toes barely reaching the ground as he forced a pressure between your legs.

“Hm~?” He hummed a reply as his eyes slipped open once more. He felt your legs tremble and tense as you tried to lift up from his leg. His arm around your waist slithered back to settle on your hip as he grinded you down into him. “What is it, dear? You’ve gone awfully quiet. Too scared to speak?”

“S-Stop-” You choked on your words trying to bite back any moans that dared to slip out. As he grinded you against his thigh you felt the slickness that soaked your panties begin to seep onto his pants. Aimlessly you tried to push at him with your free hand. As if wanting to make a show of how weak you were he let your other hand go. Both of your hands now trying to grab at him from behind you.

“I wont. Plead all you want. I wont stop.” His left hand snaked under your shirt as he tore your bra to allow your breasts to spill out. Sharp talons scratched along sensitive flesh as he pinched and toyed with your hardening nipple. His hand at your hip stopped as it dipped under your waist band. Reaching to slide his fingers between your soaked lips just to bring them back out. “Especially not when you're this wet already.” He made a show of rubbing your fluids across your lips, knowing well you couldn't see how his fingers glistened in the dark. His talons wedged past your lips as he tried to pry your mouth open. When you refused he settled his mouth over the shell of your ear and gave it a bite. His fingers darted in as soon as you gasped, pressing against your tongue ensuring you thoroughly tasted yourself.

Your head began to grow foggy as you felt yourself beginning to relax into the pressure of his thigh. Hips twitching, desperately wanting that friction again. Instead, you bit down onto the fingers that invaded your mouth. A sharp hiss left Alastor as he fish hooked your cheek, yanking you back into his chest. His other hand came to wrap around your throat as he gave a warning squeeze. “HA! You want this to hurt, don't you?”

He continued yanking you back until your neck was craned, forcing you to look up into his glowing eyes. The dark amusement that swam in his red gaze sent a shock wave straight to your core as your thighs tightened around his. Despite every fiber of you screaming to submit, you refused. Your mouth struggling to suction closed with his fingers in your cheek. You tried to muster as much spit as you could as you sputtered up at him, messily spitting up at him and onto your own face.

He didn't say a word as his only reaction was his twitching eye. Slowly he took a deep breath before he removed his fingers from your mouth, knee suddenly slipping out from under you. “You are the most pathetically stubborn thing I have ever met.” With his hold on your throat still he threw you onto the ground like a ragdoll.

You winced at the impact before quickly trying to crawl away from him. “Wh- wait-AH-” his hand wrapped around your ankle and dragged you back to him as he settled on his knees. You held your breath as you stared into his eyes like a moth to a lamp, the sound of his zipper deafening in the small space. You felt him settle between your legs as his hands tore your underwear apart. “Al, wait-” when you tried to sit up his palm pushed you back down by your head as his fingers dug into your cheeks.

“You never listen do you, Mon cher?” he’d purr with a sweet tone that didnt match his rough hands. “You said it yourself. I'm a horrifying pushy demon who knows nothing about personal space, right?” you felt his swollen head swipe up between your lips before he quickly snapped his hips into you. You choked and gasped at the sudden intrusion as he bottomed out in one thrust. His cock twitched inside of you as your cunt fluttered around him. “To think I’m dizzy for a dame like you.” A forced laugh left him before he was pushing your legs open wider.

He was suddenly thrusting into you at a brutal pace as his hands gripped and clawed at your flesh. A desperate mewl left your throat as all of your fight left you, your shaking hips trying to push into each thrust. “A-Alastor- f-fuck-” you moaned out mumbled words. His hands settle on your hips to hold you still.

“Mm-mhm? Are you going to be honest now?” when your hips still tried to fight against him he pulled from you. Your limp body being flipped onto your stomach quickly before he buried himself back into you. One hand kept your hips up whilst his other tangled into your hair, pressing your face down to force your back into an arch.

You could only cry and moan into the floor as your spit pooled below you. Legs shaking as he fucked into your cunt like his afterlife depended on. Each thrust had his heavy balls smacking against your clit, a jolt of electricity sent through you each time as you felt that coil tighten quickly. You tried to nod but his hand against your head made it difficult, but you couldnt manage a real response right now. “Ah-h, theres my good fucking girl.” He’d coo down to you between pants. You swore if honesty was the cost for this? Youd never utter a lie ever again.

His claws dug into your flesh as he rutted into you. The burning pain mixed with your quickly approaching release and you felt like youd die again. Your shaky hand tried to cover your mouth to stifle the erotic sounds you were making. The elevator creaked with every deep thrust, his own movements getting sloppy as he felt you tightly clenching around him.

The lights began to flicker to life just as you began to reach your peak, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden brightness. His hand in your hair yanked your head up from the floor as you felt the elevator stutter before suddenly descending. You felt fear prickle every nerve as a scream ripped from your throat at the feeling of falling rapidly. Your orgasm didnt stop though as your fearful scream turned into a raspy moan, your cunt twitching around Als cock as he buried himself deep into you. A groan leaving him as he reached his own release, his seed spilling into you as he grinded it in deeper.

With a jolt the elevator stopped its sudden descent as the light fully turned on. The small space fell silent as he released his hold on you. Before he could even pull out his head snapped towards the lattice door.

A very shocked and disgusted Husk stood in front of the elevator door. Angel peaked over with a surprised grin. “Holy shit it reeks of sex. No fuckin’ way you and smiles just banged in the elevator!”

All you could do was groan into the ground.

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*Dizzy with a dame: 1920s slang ‘to be deeply in love with a woman’.

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut

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write-tama · 1 year ago

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"to live with the milkman."

╰┈➤ francis mosses (the milkman) x doorman!reader

sypnosis ; reader is worried because francis hasnt been seen in a week. they decide to pay francis' apartment a little visit..

containing! ; lois stilinksy, working as doorman, gender neutral pronouns, use of y/n, francis being a little sick and out of uniform, francis and reader eat mac n cheese tg :3

authors note ; this is lowkey a slowburn-- i didnt mean to write so much D: i started writing yesterday morning and just finished this morning LOL but ya its very just wholesome and soft ^^

4.12.24 | 2.7k words

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

As a doorman, you realize a pattern of people would often come and go through the apartment. You know who goes to work in the morning and who comes home in the afternoon, and you know what days they typically go out and days where they don’t.

So, I'm not totally creepy when I say I've noticed a shift in Francis’ schedule, right? He’s not one to typically go out unless he has work in the morning— which is usually Tuesday through Friday, but lately, I haven’t seen him all week.

Nothing but the worst truly went through my mind. He could’ve been eaten by a doppel, or worse, was mistaken for a doppel and was exterminated on sight! These anxious feelings went through my head as I nervously clicked my pen. I glanced at today’s list again, as if magically waiting for his name and picture to show up on the piece of paper.

click, click, click.

Through the office window, I heard the subtle steps of heels clicking against the worn tiles. Sighing, I sat up straight and folded my hands in front of desk, forcing my anxious thoughts to the back of my head in order to continue doing my job. I looked up to meet the gaze of thick magenta bangs with eyes barely visible I sort of wonder how she even navigates through her surroundings.

“Good afternoon.” She greeted, her thick lips curling into a polite smile. I nod as I took her ID and entry request through the letter box, scanning through the documents for any misspellings or misinformation. As I carefully examined the print, I notice Lois’ lips pursing into a curious point.

“You looked troubled, sweetheart.” She noted. “Is everything alright? Besides work-stress that is.”

I sighed a little, placing her card down before looking through today’s list. I checked off Lois’ picture before turning to my request checklist. “Yeah, I just.. I don’t know. Have you heard from Francis recently?” I asked, not even masking the worried tone in my voice. Lois hummed a little, as if thinking about the last time she has even seen the man.

“The last time I saw him, he looked extremely tired. Like more tired than usual. I think he was just coming home from work? He was coughing and sniffling a lot.” She recalled. “Poor boy.. He must’ve been sick for a while.” Lois shook her head. With her words I felt like a pressure had been released from my chest. Oh, good, so there is a chance he’s alive, I thought to myself. I slid back her ID and smiled.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry, I just get worried knowing that a neighbor could’ve been killed by a doppel or any force of nature of that matter.” I lightly chuckled. Lois smiled, taking her ID before looking at me.

“You should talk to him. I’m sure he could use the company right now.” Lois suggested, but through that grin I could see that teasing smile.

I sighed a little, a little grin starting to form on my face. “C’mon, Lois, that would be way too embarrassing!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in my chair. Lois lightly giggled, raising a white glove to stiffle her laughs.

“Oh, it won’t hurt, honestly! You never know what could happen~” she said, all singy-songy. I rolled my eyes before pressing the unlock button.

“Yeah, yeah. The door’s right there.” I sarcastically replied, a big grin on my face.

“Just think about it!” She called out as she walked through the door. I shook my head in amusement, listening to the door click behind her. I locked the door and returned to my previous slouched position.

Maybe I should pay him a visit.

My shift ended around late evening. I packed my bag and slid on my cardigan before locking the door behind me and hiding the key in a place only the next doorman would be able to find it. As I walked towards the exit of the building, I thought about what Lois had said earlier about paying him a visit. I never even really attempted to go past the lobby area of the apartment building. I had no purpose to anyway. And plus, it would’ve been a lengthy process to even request a visitor’s pass due to the security. I looked over to the doorman’s office, realizing that as of now, no one is on duty. Would it be morally wrong to go against the rules of the literal job I worked in?

Maybe.

But maybe my curiosity and anxiety could take over just for this one moment.

I walked back to the doorman’s office and unlocked the door. I placed the key back in its original hiding place before entering. I made sure to lock the door behind me before taking a look around the room again. Behind the doorman’s seat, there’s a door that leads to the stairway of the apartment complex. Its main purpose was to serve as a fire escape just in case of an emergency. Eagerly and swiftly, I gently pushed the door open, making sure to not make much noise. Once I walked out, I was met with the smell of old concrete and a spiral of stairs. I sighed to myself, remembering that Francis does in fact live on the third floor.

The stairs felt endless as my shoes clicked on the hard concrete. Fortunately, I only had to take a break only two times. I was finally at the end of the stairs, my legs tired from the endless climbly. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a typical carpeted hallway with blinding yellow-white lights that nearly burned my eyes. I sighed before trailing through the doors, looking at each number plate in order to locate the right room.

“Room 02, room 02..” I hummed to myself, just like how I would while scanning through files. After turning a corner, I was finally able to locate Francis’ room. I raised my fist to knock at the door, but the soft, soothing sounds of piano muffled through the wood. I stopped in my tracks, feeling as if my knock would disturb the perfect flow of the keys as I’m sure its song filled the apartment with grace. I waited for the keys’ song to slow to an end, the melody slowly fading out of the air and a sigh following its silence. I couldn’t help but smile, and sure this gave me enough proof that Francis was in fact still alive, but.. Something about his skills on the piano made me even more intrigued by the man.

I gently knocked with my knuckles, but making sure I was firm enough for the knocks to even be heard. From inside, I heard a chair scrape against wooden floorboard before footsteps steadily approaching me. A couple locks were undone before the squeak of the door filled my ears. I looked up and there Francis was— his eyebags were relatively darker and he was still in sleep attire with a baggy set of pajama pants and a fitting white tee.

“Oh— uh, (y/n)—” he said a little shocked to see me. I smiled a little, tilting my head at him.

“You shouldn’t have opened your door so fast. I could’ve been a doppel, y’know?” I advised. I heard him suck air through his teeth as he realized his rookie mistake.

“Mmm.. I’m sorry..” He mumbled, making me raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve been worried about you since I haven’t seen you in a while. I just.. Wanted to check if you were okay.”

Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise. It made me wonder if anyone else but me paid him a visit due to his absence. We lingered in silence for a minute. he stared down at me as I stared up at him.

“..May I be invited in?” I requested, breaking the silence. Francis blinked his eyes a little, as if he had been lost in thought previously.

“Mmm.. ID and entry request, please?” Francis teased, smiling a little. I scoffed, immediately catching on to his wittiness.

“Ha ha, very funny, Mr. Mosses.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes. His grin grew wider, clearly amused by reaction. He stepped aside from the door, allowing me to enter. I walked in, bag still clutched to my side as I took a look around the apartment.

It was humble but quaint space. The ceiling lights were off and frankly looked like they were never used, however, his lamps illuminated a soft warm orange on his furniture. He had a small box TV and dull red couch with a small round coffee table planted in the middle. Huddled in a corner was his old piano he must've been playing earlier. Francis closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it as well. “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” He apologized, quickly rushing to his couch where clothes scattered over the armrests. He went down a small hallway I assumed to be where his bathroom and bedroom was. I took off my shoes and placed my bag on the table that sat next to the door before sitting myself on the couch.

I sighed a little, almost drowning into the soft pillows. It almost made me question why he would be struggling with sleep if he has a couch as comfortable as this. I could see a bit of his kitchen from sitting on his couch. It was a decent size with counters on one side and the appliances on the other. It seemed like he had something on the stove cooking as well.

Francis walked in shortly after and took his seat on other end of the couch, keeping a distance between the two of us. I brought my knees to my chest while hugging his couch pillows. I looked at him for a bit, trying to figure out myself as to why he hasn’t been out recently. Not only was his dark circles were more apparent, his hair was a little longer and messier. He looked paler than usual as well. Francis turned to me, a curious look on his face.

“Is it apparent..?” Francis asked. I furrowed my eyebrows, a little confused on what he meant.

“Hm?” I hummed in response.

“That I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled slightly. I shrugged a little, leaning back on the couch cushions.

“I mean.. Your hair is messier.” I smiled, admiring the frizz on the top of his head. Francis quickly glanced up before running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not that messy..” He sighed.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. You always got that milkman hat on the top of your head.” I laughed. I glanced over to the kitchen again, realizing that steam was coming through the glass lid. “I think you might want to get that.” I suggested, nodding my head towards the stove. He hummed a little before getting off of the couch and heading towards the kitchen. I watched as he reached the top of the cabinets, stretching up with ease. I couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders to his slim waist defined by his white shirt.

“Hey, I made mac n’ cheese if you’d like a bowl.” He offered, his voice immediately cutting through my daze.

“Oh— uh, yeah of course. I was about to get dinner after I got off my shift but here I am.” I chuckled. He nodded before grabbing another platter to make my own plate. I sat patiently on the couch before noticing the remote on the coffee table. “Hey, can I turn on the TV?” I asked.

“Hm?” Francis hummed from the kitchen. “Mmm.. Sure. I don’t mind.” He shrugged before turning back to his task.

Something about this felt so.. Safe.. And homely. I felt comfortable, despite me never even being in Francis’ apartment before. It felt familiar, and I couldn’t lie to myself and say that this is the most peace I’ve felt since the news of doppelgangers came out. I picked up the TV remote and flicked it on, browsing through the channels before find a movie we could idly have in the background.

Francis came out of the kitchen, holding two bowls with forks in each. This time, he took his seat much closer to me before placing my bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you.” I politely nodded. I took the bowl and started to eat. Honestly, to my surprise, the food was actually pretty good for a man who worked day and night. I was enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of us as we enjoyed our dinner together— something I barely saw myself seeing tonight.

“Hey.. (y/n)?” Francis mumbled quietly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, taking another scoop of the creamy mac n’ cheese to shove in my mouth.

“Why did you.. Come here?”

Something about that question made my heart skip a little. Why did I come here? I mean— I came here to make sure he was okay. That’s my job as doorman. To make sure all of the neighbors are safe and alive. But even when I heard him through the door, clearly shown to me that he is still breathing, I stuck around anyway.

Why did I come here?

“Well— I uh..” I trailed off a little, sort of lost to where I should even begin. “I was just worried about you. That is my job, no?” I said, clearing my throat. I kept my eyes on the screen, a little embarrassed to even face him.

“Mmm.. I don’t entirely believe that.” He hummed. “You could’ve called.”

Oh, fuck, yeah no— he’s right.

Ugh, Lois!

You set me up!

“That’s true..” I chuckled. “I guess you caught me.”

“Mmm..” He mumbled. He placed his now empty dinner on the table before folding his hands in his lap. “So..?”

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beat fast inside my chest and a warmth creeping up my whole body. I placed my bowl onto the coffee table as well, and finally mustered the courage to look at him in his eyes.

“Francis..” I mumbled. He leaned in a little closer, as if he wanted to lean into my words and trusted them to embrace him.

“I.. I just.. I think I like you..” I trailed out. My head felt cloudy as a tingling sensation danced all over my skin, feeling like a little kid during recess confessing to her elementary school crush. “I've liked you.. Ever since we met. I never really said anything because I felt like you weren't necessarily interested in a relationship.. But Lois and Rafttellyn would always point out how you would look at me and I just—!”

A strong hand placed firmly on my cheek— so cold against my blushing face— pulled me in to meet those soft lips of his. I was completely silenced and wide eyed, but I knew what he was telling me. Everything in those pink lips told me that everything was going to be okay, and he liked me just as much..

I fluttered my eyes closed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to his chest. The TV buzzed in front of us, sputtering incoherent actors cracking jokes and delivering their lines. Our finished bowls of dinner were scattered on the table, but it was easy to tell the food was delicious for no piece of macaroni was left unnoticed. I pressed harder against his lips, letting the thought of breathing slip my mind.

If this is what it's like to live with him—

To spend our evenings chatting

Eating dinner on his couch

Watching TV while enjoying each other's presence

Then maybe I could get used to this.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

tagging ; @crybabies-heart @shypizzaperson @your-local-oc-maker @spearsillustration @mochi46106 @seraphlin @glxyaaandromeda (some ppl i tagged either bc they followed me on my old acc and just some ppl who interacted with my past content and just thought they would be interested in this fic :3

thank you so much for reading and reposts and likes are always so, so appreciated <3

#milkman #milkman x reader #thats not my neighbor #thats not my neighbour milkman #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses thats not my neighbor #tnmn milkman #tnmn #francis mosses x you #lois stilnsky #fanfiction #wholesome

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mitch-the-silly · 1 year ago

Note

Could you write a nsfw Vox x fem!reader where Vox comes home from work, feeling really stressed and asks for the reader’s consent if he could relive that stress on her? Like he’s being really rough on her and maybe praising her too? 👉👈 Nothing too extreme though, and I find consent sexy.

HELL YEAHHH I CAN!! This is exactly what I was waiting for!!! A reason to write Vox smut. What can I say? I'm but a simple creature.

Vox would for sure do that relieving stress via sex thing. Especially since he's always pressed about something and because I like to think he's at least a bit of a manchild.

Anyway, thanks for the request!!

"Take a Breather or Two...?"

Vox x fem!Reader NSFW

MINORS DNI!!!

Warnings: NSFW, Stress relief sex, praise kink, rough sex

You sat silently on the bed that you and Vox shared. With your headphones on, listen to whatever it was that the shuffle button deemed fit for that moment. The feeling of the silky, dark grey sheets against your skin felt heavenly. Vox was going to be home any moment now, and you’d be there to greet him as always. It was simply the way things had been for a while now. He’d work, and you’d spend some much-deserved time with him at home.

You heard the door open and immediately sat up on the bed. However, the slamming of the front door was what made you raise a brow.

“I can’t fucking believe it!” Vox yelled from the living room. He finally entered your shared bedroom, untying his bowtie and sitting at the edge of the bed. He stared at the wall for a second then, covering his eyes with his hands, he kicked the air in frustration. “Ugh, you have no idea what a day I’ve had…” He sighed.

“What happened? Tell me…” You spoke, placing your hands on his shoulders, gently massaging them. He let out a small relieved breath as you did this. After that, he continued.

“First of all, Alastor fucking tried me again today! Not to mention that I had to cancel three of the ten shows that generated the most revenue because the lead actress was taken out in the last extermination and we didn’t know because she went on vacation and said she’d be back in a month. And on top of that Valentino has been throwing the most stupid tantrums. Ughhh!” He vented, “I need to take out some steam.” He gave you a bit of an unrecognizable look. He seemed to be generating an idea. However, there was no way for you to know without asking.

“That sounds like a good solution, Voxxie. You got something in mind? I can see the gears turning in your head~” You teased.

After pondering his idea for a brief moment, Vox continued proceeding to speak his mind. “I want you.” He spoke bluntly. “Yes, fucking your brains out would make me feel so much better.” He added, his breath shuddering slightly. He scooted closer toward you and caressed your face gently. “Can I do that baby~? I’ll only do it if you let me…” he pouted. Almost begging, but based on his tone, it was apparent he was willing to drop the subject if you did not want to do it.

You nodded softly. But that wasn’t enough confirmation for him. “No no, use your words.” He replied in a commanding tone.

“Yes, I’d like that. It sounds like fun.~” You spoke, this time telling him outright that you wanted this.

Vox nodded, “Ok, I’ll try not to be too rough. Just… fuck you’re so fucking sexy…~” He sighed, letting out a desperate little exhale.

Vox reached for your hips, instantly pulling off your pants along with your panties. He wasn’t one for teasing when he needed it. Without wasting a second, he split your legs open, gently tracing the inside of your upper thighs. He licked his lips desperately, determined to make you feel good before he fucked his anger out on you. He leaned his head towards your private area, giving your clit a gentle lick.

You shuddered in pleasure, letting out a small whimper. This drove him absolutely mad. So much so, that he could feel the need to continue this coming from within his core. So he licked along your labia, circling your clit hungrily until you were just as wet as he wanted you. The sounds of your juices gushing as he licked you up, oh it was making him want to do all sorts of things to you. And thus, after hearing how wet you were now, he stopped.

He sat up, looking at you with a certain hunger in his eyes. There was a primal need for more taking over him, not quite clouding his mind but filling him with a haze. “You’re being such a good girl for me.~” Vox cooed, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down to his knees. He scrambled to his waist area and took his cock in his hand. Needily aligning himself to your entrance. The sight of his cock on your labia made him shiver impatiently. He rubbed his tip on your clit, gasping out a small shudder

After getting a gasp out of you, he smirked, inserting himself into your entrance. “So tight for me~” He chuckled, very slowly moving in and out of you. You moaned relentlessly, wrapping your legs around him as he mercilessly bucked his hips into you. The sensation made you moan out his name. Reaching out to hold him, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He indulged in its taste, savoring your mouth with absolute ecstasy. The second he parted the kiss, he bucked his hips faster.

Vox’s screen began to lag, the image of his eyes freezing up as he looked directly at you. “Fuck~ You’re so fucking pretty like this~ So good for me~” Vox groaned, his voice distorted and sort of glitched out. It was way too obvious he was enjoying himself.

“Ahh~! V-vox, I’m… I’m close…~” You whined, bouncing back as he pumped himself into you.

“You wanna cum baby~? You want me to make you cum~?” Vox cooed, groaning, desperately chasing his own orgasm. You nodded desperately, whining, feeling a warmth pool up in your insides. He was making you feel so good that you couldn’t turn thoughts into words anymore.

Vox let out a laugh, an amalgamation of amusement and absolute arousal. The flat-screen television he had as a head began sparking as his strokes became more uneven and deep. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me~ So fucking good…~ You’re gonna make me cum so deep inside you…~” He slurred, seemingly so high on the pleasure that he didn’t seem to give a shit about the malfunctioning lights in the room. He took in the sound of your moans and pants, letting the vibrations course through his being. He had to feel you cum around his cock. He needed to feel it. So he reached his hand down towards your clit, rubbing it with his thumb. You squirmed under his touch, an orgasm approaching faster than before, and you bucked your hips into him. And as you began to get tighter and tighter, the lights began to flash faster. “Yes~… Yes…~ So fucking pretty all stuffed up with my cock…~ Look at that beautiful fucking face…~” he groaned in absolute adoration.

And suddenly, with a hard thrust and a loud grunt, Vox found the climax he so sought, darkness engulfing the once-lit room, his monitor showing the “ERROR” screen. Yet, he didn’t dare stop the way he was touching you. Oh no, he needed to feel you reach your climax as well. He rubbed faster and faster, enduring the overstimulation of keeping you around him, your walls pulsating. He began to whine a bit himself, in all honesty. Until, finally, you arched your back in, your hips spasming as you eventually reached that orgasm he just needed you to have. The sensation of your walls around him, driving him absolutely mad. So much so, that the room’s power returned, but only for the split second in which your walls squeezed him in the midst of your climax. He’d never felt this good before and he swore he wanted more of this.

He pulled out of you, wincing at the sensation and then collapsing next to you. He tried to catch his breath, looking at you doing the exact same thing. Once he felt his breathing was stable, he got up and looked around for a towel. Once he found one, he returned to your side and cleaned you up. “There you go…” He chuckled, “You know, I don’t think that in all the time I’ve been in hell or in the years I was alive I've had sex this good.~” He smirked, pulling you closer, holding you by the hips. Looking at you with that same look of adoration he gave you before.

“You’re not stressed anymore, huh?” You chuckled, gliding your index finger under the bottom part of his monitor; returning his playful little smirk.

“They can go fuck themselves. My steam’s been blown.” He responded, kissing your lips one more time. Needless to say, this might be his go-to when he gets this badly pissed off.

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #vox x reader smut #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel oneshots #vox hazbin

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ririblogsss · 1 year ago

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Danny in central City pt2

part 1

Danny is chilling in the dorms rooftop again, when he feels a very powerful gust off wind. Looking to the side he finds impulse the local teen hero of Central City. Danny only nods his way and mutters that the stars look very pretty tonight. Impulse manages to hear him and looks up, but the night sky isn't visible because of all the light pollution. Super-eyesight he notes it down In his brain. Impulse asks for his name while he sits down besides him Danny responds meekly.

The silence is so loud even though there's cars and overall noise of the city. Their science is tense. Danny thinks that one wrong move and he'll get handed to the GIW for experimentation and extermination. Impulse is thinking of the best way to approach Danny without spooking him away.

In the end Danny decides to break the silence, as he's always hated awkward silences and feels the need to constantly talk in order to make it feel less tense."Did you know hot ice exists? yeah like about 33 light-years away is an exoplanet called Gliese 436 b. The planet is composed of different water elements, which form burning ice, so in essence there is a thing that is hot ice" Danny just continues to ramble all the facts he learn past midnight during high school. Hoping that impulse would just get tiered of him or get called back by whoever is behind the coms. But it doesn't happen Impulse lays next to him looking up at the sky listening to him ramble making humming noises and nods to show he is listening.

Danny doesn't know what to do he's running out of topics and facts fast and its not like he can just leave. So Danny does what anyone that's in the same type of situation does, he starts trauma dumping on accident. Well Dannys not sure its trauma dumping it has nothing to do with his half death or ghost or really anything after his 13 th birthday.

"You know my parents have a lab in our basement" Impulse chokes on air but Danny continues on "yeah its pretty cool when I was 4 I was allowed to go in and experiment with all the substances along as my older sister was there" Impulse face, or what Danny can see of it looks contorted in a grimace/sad look, so Danny immediately tries to back track."Wait wait that sounds like I was in danger, I wasn't I only made mustard gas twice before I learned all the components that made It and made sure to never mix them, and I only burned my hand 6 times with the surface mix lamp, and I got pretty good at using it. look see this" Danny holds out his wrist with an intricate bracelet made out of glass, it has green, blue and black accents on it swirling. "WAIT you made that, brUHHH that's amazing likeomgyoucouldsellthisiwouldbuythisitssocool......." Danny had to strain his ears in order to fully understand what impulse was saying as he went on a tangent about how cool the bracelet was.

"Here" Danny says holding out the bracelet, Impulse blanches and tries to refuse saying that he doesn't need it or whatever but Danny is stubborn he keeps holding out the bracelet unrelenting until impulse takes it and puts it on. "Consider it a gist from a fan and a thank you for sitting with me and listening to me ramble about space" Then Danny stands up stretching himself and starts heading towards the stair case. Leaving a dumbfounded impulse behind.

Danny hears a whisper of 'What the fuck' before he hears the distinct break of air that only comes from speedsters running off.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover

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greeniegirl23 · 9 months ago

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Alastor As A Father (Son Version)

- 10 hours. You had been in labor for the second time in your life and it lasted 10 fucking hours...

-As the doctors tended to your newborn son, you quickly grabbed Alastor by his throat and growled in his ear. "If you ever put me in this position again I promise I'll throw you out of the hotel so the Angels can erase you during the next extermination!! Are we clear?!"

He gulped, dangerously aware of your seriousness. "Crystal.."

- Back to your newborn. He was similar to his sister when she was a baby. Your son wasn't a crybaby., not even in the slightest. Only whimpering or whining when he wanted something. It took a lot to make him actually cry and when he did you both knew he was hurt or you'd probably have to kill somebody.

- This time around, Alastor had decided to step up his parenting game and started doing some research. Starting out with some baby books that Charlie lent him from her Dad. He became very invested in your child's development and even tried to convince you that your daughter might have been a 'slow' baby in her toddler years.

"Al, for the hundredth time our daughter turned out fine!" You groaned, rinsing off a plate and handing it too him to dry. "You can't believe everything those books say, especially when they're so.. statistic based."

Alastor huffed. "Darling, according to the book she should have started walking earlier than when she did. Assuming that it's true, I don't want the same for our boy. They will have to protect each other when we're no longer around. Which means he's going to have to be a strapping young gentleman and there's no better time to start than now."

- Unfortunately, this started a somewhat heated argument between you. Alastor was frustrated that you couldn't see how important it was to get an early start, while you were pissed at the fact that he thought your very intelligent, very capable 13 year old was slow and that he was putting too much pressure on your 4 month old who still enjoyed chewing on his own feet.

- As much as you fought for him to understand your point, Alastor became an immovable boulder and you were too dull of an axe to crack him open.

- This stressed you out for two reasons. One, the potential for your son to grow up underneath insane amounts of pressure at such a young age was high. Two, you knew Alastor would sneak behind your back to mold this boy into who he believed he should be and unfortunately, there wasn't much you could do about it.

- You had to trust that in time Alastor would learn from mistakes he made. Until he did though, you promised to be there emotionally for your son and to stop your husband from going too far.

-As your boy grew, the fears you had for him began to come to light. Alastor was just as harsh as an old master. Despite your son's grades, physical strength, and domestic skills for a boy, it still was never enough for his father. It was bad enough the point where your son exclaimed that he hated his father.

"He's never happy with me!" Your now six-year-old child cried in your chest after another incident of Alastor's cold hearted nature. "I drew a picture of him today in class, got all A's on my assignments and he just brushed it off! I don't understand.." He sniffled. "Did I..-Did I do something bad?"

"Of course not Sweetie," You said, trying to comfort him. He's tears soaked your shirt as you tried to come up with a plan to put a stop to this madness.

"Then why doesn't he love me..?"

- The sharp pang in your heart that you felt in that moment brought you and your husband back to a pretty foul argument that went unfinished years prior. Giving that man a piece of your mind once again felt good and this time he was going to listen regardless of if he wanted to or not. How dare he make your child feel that way?! Much less make him cry!

"The boy is too sensitive." Alastor groaned, flipping through his news paper. "He's crying over absolute nonsense."

"He's been crying because you've been on his ass like white on rice since he was three months old!" You exclaimed. "All he's trying to do is impress you but you shoot him down and strap him with more work and expectations. He's six, Alastor!"

Alastor growled. "If he's so obsessed with feelings like love and acceptance, then clearly I'm failing at my job as a parent. Do you think the people of Hell care about utter gutter trash like that? I'm making him strong so can protect himself and his sister, to protect you if I should meet my second demise. Why don't you seem to understand that?!"

Sadness took over your features as you realized that Alastor had blinded himself by his own worries. "Your job as a parent is to feed them, cloth them, give them shelter, and to be there for them. That counts being there emotionally!"

Finally Alastor had enough, "He'll be fine, this conversation is over." He grumbled, preparing to walk off to dismiss you again.

"No, it's not!" You yelled, getting right in his face to show you weren't backing down. You knew he'd never lay a hand on you or anything of the sort, but the tensions were high and you needed his full acknowledgement.

"Our jobs as parents are to protect our children, but your so worried about preparing them for this godforsaken place until you can't even save your son from yourself!" You backed away for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"Do you realize what he could become from your neglect? He could be the next fuckin' Jeffery Dahmer or Ted Bundy all because of your efforts to make him "strong"." You sighed, shaking your head in confusion and disappointment as your eyes grew glossy. "Alastor you weren't ever like this with our daughter. Sure you were a bit overprotective of her but you still allowed her to be a child. So why do things have to be different for our son?.."

- Alastor looked at you for what seemed like an eternity. The moment lasts so long as your tongue grows thick in your mouth. With an angry huff after what seems like forever, he just, walked right by you. Grabbing his tail coat and heading out the door.

- To say you were shocked was an understatement. Immediately you fell to your knees and started to cry. Weeping for yourself, for your son, because your husband was too damn stubborn sometimes, and because you weren't strong enough to stop him.

- You came to the conclusion that you needed some space. Quickly you gathered your children and their belongings, made a call, and went back to the place where it all started.

- Charlie welcomed you with open arms, happy to see you once again and offering you a shoulder to cry on if needed.

-You took her up on that offer, as well as Vaggie while the other patrons enjoyed the company of your kids. Angel Dust even recommended a shopping day with everyone, for old times sake. Your daughter agreed happily in her monotoned voice while your baby boy seemed quiet.

- As you ran back the events of the night to your friends, they both seemed equally as concerned as you were for your son's well-being.

-Speaking of which. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a while now. Last you checked, he had gone in the kitchen to get a drink. You asked if anyone had seen him since, only to get a sound of reverberating "No's"

- You panicked. Running to the kitchen only to find the window open and one of the knives on the counter was missing. A note hung on the curtain, quickly you read it.

"Daddy made me cry and he made you cry too. I think it's his turn to cry now. I'm sorry Mama.."

A disturbing chill crawled quickly up your spine as you ran back out into the lobby screaming in fear.

-You gave Husker the note as Charlie demanded the car to be brought around so you could stop your son's psychotic break.

"Don't you think we're overreacting a bit? He's six and like 4'3 he can't have gotten far." The grumpy cat said.

"This is Alastor's kid we're talking about, do you really think he's your typical elementary school boy? She sliced someone's arm off when she was eight!" Vaggie exclaimed, referring to your daughter who was now trying to console you.

"Our Dad was gone before we left home, maybe he's not back yet?" She inquired hopefully.

"Sweetie, I didn't tell him we were leaving. If he's gone out he always comes back around 10:30 to say good night to you and your brother. It's 11:00, so I'm sure he's home by now."

-As you, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husker hopped in the car to speed off to your home. You couldn't help but pray to God that something would stop your son from going through with something so cruel.

- Alastor sighed as he walked back into his home. It was wrong for him to talk out like that and his reprimand from Rosie was finally what helped him understand that.

-He was ready to apologize to you and to his son. Expecting you to appreciate his change of heart and maybe even earn his son's forgiveness.

-What he didn't expect, was an empty house. Nor the note on the fridge explaining where you were. It has a few tear stains on it and he cursed himself for making you cry. As he read it, part of him wanted to go to the hotel and apologize to you there. The other part of him realized he had pushed you away too far and maybe, just maybe you needed some time alone to reel in your thoughts.

- Slowly, he made his way up the stairs into your shared bedroom. Smelling like whiskey and feeling slightly depressed. His smile was maintained of course, though it was small and forced to whoever might see it.

- He flopped into bed. Rather ungracefully but he didn't care, there was no one around. No one to scold him or ask him if he had a hard day.

- The house creaked as the night wind blew through his window. His face was stuffed in a pillow as he smelled the faint scent of your shampoo. Flowery, like his Mother used to wear.

-She was always there for him. Kind of like you were always there for your family as well. Both him and your children looked to you for inspiration, love, and affection. Which made him feel even worse for putting you in such a position earlier. Here you are, giving him children, making time for them and him, while also trying to make time for yourself. Fighting against your own husband just so he could see what was important to you, only for him to brush it all off in a hissy fit because he couldn't handle being told he was doing a bad job at being a good father.

-Now, when you asked him about this at a later time. He told you he's unsure of how it happened. He can't remember if he was so wrapped up in his thoughts to the point he wasn't aware of his surroundings, or if your son may be part snake instead of part deer.

-But what he does remember is turning on his back just in time to stop the butcher knife from impaling him straight through the heart. How the hell this person got into the house and into his bedroom without making a sound is something Alastor would never know.

-Whoever the hell had lost their mind to do such a thing was about to become a stain on the wall because if their was one thing for certain and two things for sure Alastor wasn't in the fucking mood until he realized the familiar figure in the darkness was his own flesh and blood.

-His son. His own son was straddling his waist, struggling against his Dad's 137 year old strength at just six and a half years of existence. Alastor didn't understand what was going on, why was he doing this and where were you?!

"What are you doing?!" Alastor yelled. Trying to figure out what on earth was happening.

The boy stayed silent and screamed out something close to a war cry as he used his entire body weight to push the knife closer to Alastor's chest.

"I'm talking to you boy and you'd better answer me this instant!"

"Shut UP!" He shouted. "You don't get to talk to me! Not after what you did earlier today!"

Alastor's heart stopped a bit after he realized that his son had overheard the argument between the two of you.

"That was a misunderstanding! Your mother and I may have exchanged words but everything will be alright, now put the knife down!"

The child growled something feral. "It's not going to be okay, things between us were never okay! From the moment I started training under you, you've been nothing but a big bully. I'd go crying to Mom when you weren't around because all you ever saw me for was worthless! You never loved me and I was willing to accept that because Mom promised me that you'd change in time, but after today I don't believe that anymore!"

With a swift move, the boy had broken the arm lock he was in and lifted the knife over his head to plunge into the man he called Father. Tears weld in his eyes as he swung forward, his pupils changed similar to Alastor's and his voice became distorted with anger and malice. For the first time, Alastor swore he knew how his victims felt as his own smile grinned mercilessly back at him.

"YOu MaDE my MoTHeR CrY AnD FOR thAT, I'LL mAKE SuRE YoU NEvEr MaKE EIthER oF US cRY AgAIN!!"

- It was like a switch in his head had been flicked on. Alastor watched as his son swung his blade forward in slow motion. Memories of himself and what he had done to his own father came whirling back.

- The past seemed to have repeated itself. What a sick and twisted universe. He remembered the arguments between his parents. The sounds of glass shattering and his mother's begging for the pain to stop. He remembered peaking into her room to see her covering her face with makeup to hide the bruses. The fake smiles she'd give him in the morning while she cleaned up the mess from the night before. The deep silence between him and his Dad when he stabbed him to death in the very same way. He tried to hide the body on his own, he didn't want mother to be mad at him or find out. But she did and may have indirectly set his path down a dark road by justifying his actions at 14 years of age.

"Murder ain't good Alastor," She said, sitting him on her lap as she rocked with him in her rocking chair. Her sweet Southern drawl was like music to his ears. "You shouldn't have killed that man, n' I won't try to pretend what you did was right."

"Yes ma'am..." He replied sadly, on the verge of tears until she spoke again.

"Listen Allie. Anyone who kills another person, just for the sake of making someone else smile, is alright with me. I know the only reason you did what you did, is because you felt like you had to and you couldn't stand to see me gettin hurt no more." she sighed. "I just wish I was strong enough to leave when I had the chance, n maybe' you're lil would have stayed clean from the blood of my mistakes.."

"M'Sorry Mama.."

She smiled. "No Baby, I'm sorry. For makin' you live through that when you shouldn't have. My sins are now yours to bare. N' sadly there ain't much I can do to fix that." Fixing his glasses on his face, she gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. "Promise me you'll stay strong Alastor, bare these sins with a smile and don't add on to them unless you absolutely have to."

"I promise." He replied. Swearing silently to make her proud and for her to keep smiling, no matter what.

-Everything made sense now. Truly it did. Why you were so concerned. How he became so blind. What he buried deep within and how he manifested into the situation he was in now.

-But unlike his father, Alastor had a choice and a chance to do better before it was too late. Quickly, the Radio Demon sat up and snatched the knife out of his son's grip mid swipe. The blade clattered to the ground and gave his child the loving embrace he so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry." He said with sincerity. "I should have never made your Mother cry, nor should I have ever made you feel less than appreciated. I am proud of what you've done, who you've become, and who you're going to be."

He felt the small body go rigid. Freezing in confusion as his Dad actually told him how he felt for once. Alastor continued. " I'm sorry for making you think I never loved you. In fact, I love you so much that I wanted you to be perfect. To be strong, to protect your sister, and your mother when I'm not here anymore. But I put far too much on you too soon, which was unfair to you in a number of ways. I only wanted the best for you, but I couldn't see that I was harming you in the process and I never, ever wanted that..."

Pulling away from his son, one of the biggest pride and joys he had down in this disgusting cesspool. He wiped the child's tears away and gave him a genuine smile.

"You are my son and I love you, I apologize that it took me so long to say it, but it is true. I'm proud of you for being willing to protect your mother, even from me. I had to do the same thing around your age to the man that would have been your grandpa, but he was terrible to us and deserved to be slaughtered. You're already further ahead than I am, so please. Forgive me and I promise our relationship from here on will be much, much different than what it's been."

- Alastor watched as his son hiccuped and sobbed. Nodding his head and mumbling out a meek "Okay.." He dove in for another hug and Alastor allowed him to stay there and cry tears of relief for as long as he needed to.

- Not too long afterwards, you came barreling into the house and raced up stairs. Calling Alastor's name and for your son until you literally kicked down the door to your bedroom, stopping at what you found and thanking God for hearing your prayers.

-The others came after you in a frenzy but quickly let out breathes of relief at the sight of your smile. Quietly you 'shhhed' them and stepped aside to see the same beautiful sight you did.

-There on your king sized bed, sat your husband and his son. Alastor was propped upwards against the headboard, using pillows to support is back while his head was supported by your son. The six year old was snuggled up against his father's chest, sleeping soundly underneath his throat while Alastor's arms seemed to form a somewhat protective cage around him.

- Smiling happily, you closed the door to the room and headed downstairs with everyone else. Heading back to the hotel and leaving a note for Alastor in the morning that encouraged him to catch up on lost time with your second-born. Satisfied that their bond was finally forming into something beautiful.

(Wow, I did not plan to get as invested in this as I did. I just let the story flow and got this, honestly I love it and would like to see some of my theories between Alastor and his Mom come to fruition. Anyways, I'll see y'all in the next post! Don't forget to comment something you might want to see me write next :D P.S Why the fuck did I post this without editing it..?)

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #drabbles #writing #creative wrting #fanfic #headcanon #alastor the radio demon #kids #what if

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 1 year ago

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Omfg I ate that Vox fic up! The one where he hypnotized the reader after a long fight of them nearly being taken from him. Can you do a part 2 please? Like when the reader eventually learns he basically forced them to sign the contract and they find a way to be immune to his hypnosis? He goes absolutely nuts despite literally owning their soul. He's canonically a control freak and seems to even have some yandere traits. I hope I'm not going against your rules! You don't have any posted so I just wanna ask! Thank you for being awesome! :D Don't hesitate to turn down this request. Write what makes you feel comfortable. Just please respond so I and everyone else knows not to make a similar request in the future. Lots of love!

ABSOLUTELY!! I did take this in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Lowkey thinking of doing a Vox POV of this later and maybe even a part three...

Vox isn't actually in this much, but I feel a loose actual plot coming together and this is what naturally flowed for me.

I hope y'all are ready for more angst... plus a cliff-hanger <3

More Than Anything Part 2 [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2.5

"You controlling prick!"

Vox ducked as you threw a pillow at him. Even in your righteous anger, you'd never actually truly try to hurt him, but by god were you pissed.

Despite Vox's obvious disdain for the Hazbin Hotel and its association with Alastor, you visited the hotel occasionally to catch up with your friend Angel Dust and give some much-deserved love to his pet pig Fat Nuggets. It was during one of these visits that you ran into Alastor, who immediately looked at you with disgust in his ever-present smile.

"Really now, my dear," he said as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's already enough of a shame that you have such poor taste in a romantic partner, but to give your soul to him as well? I thought you were smarter than that."

The overlord could see the aura of Vox's ever-annoying electric cords locked around your soul like chains. You'd been confused and his eye twitched with annoyance as he realized what Vox had done to you. To say you were livid after he explained that you'd been tricked was an understatement.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Vox pleaded as you fumed at him in his room. "But you left me no other choice! You weren't listening to me and if I didn't bind your soul, then Satan knows what could have happened to you by now."

"Just because you don't fucking believe in my ability to look out for myself doesn't mean you get to just take my soul!" You screamed with hot, angry tears flowing down your face. You wipe at them, only crying harder at the frustration of the tears you couldn't control in your anger. You felt like they undermined your emotions.

Vox's magic sparked around him as he tried his best not to get angry and start a fight with you. He was terrified and was that much more susceptible to his angry tendencies in moments like these. It took everything in him to try and calm himself, not wanting to push you away further. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he saw you pull a large bag out of the closet and start shoving clothes into it.

"W-Where are you going?" Vox panicked as he crossed the room.

"The hotel," you said with quiet fury, as you stepped away from the closet and went to the nightstand with your personal things on it. "I need some space and it's the one fucking place I know you'd rather die again than follow me to."

"Ŷ̸̪͕o̸̢̿̿ū̷̫ ̶̬͂c̶̺̾͂a̴͒͘͜n̴̫̂̔'̶̡̉t̶͙̝̄͒," Vox said, his voice starting to glitch as his panic increased. "You've heard the news, the extermination is in a week and the angels plan on attacking there first. There's no guarantee they'll keep to the date after how much little miss dumbass pissed off heaven. It's not safe there."

You pull your bag over your shoulder and the look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. "It's safer than here."

It breaks him all the more when you shield your eyes from him and storm past him so he can't hypnotize you into staying. Vox is paralyzed with fear like never before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to stop you from leaving him, but he couldn't do anything as his system glitched so hard it forced him into a reboot. When he came to, he was alone. You were gone.

Charlie was more than willing to let you stay at the hotel. The two of you hadn't had the chance to really ever speak before, but she was always friendly when you came to visit Angel, even after you explained to her there was no way you'd be able to become a guest.

In exchange, you were happy to help set up the defenses against the extermination. You got to know all of the other members of the hotel and the work helped you push down the burning ache in your chest.

Vox had been trying to contact you nonstop. You eventually turned off your phone, driven insane by the wall of notifications of him begging you to respond in any way. He knew you were okay for the time being. He was literally connected to your soul. But as the extermination day grew closer, his panic only increased. If it wasn't for Valentino and Velvette holding him back, there were several times he genuinely would have set aside his pride and come to the hotel just to get you.

It was after helping Husk and Cherri put up a particularly tricky barrier with the dwindling supplies that Angel found you taking a break. He passed you a water which you took gratefully as he slid down the wall and joined you on the floor.

"So," he started. "Are we going to ever talk about the reason why you're hiding out here?"

"Do we have to?" You groan, running your fingers through your hair. Despite the smiles and laughter you'd been sharing with your newfound friends as you all prepared for the potential end of it all, the dark circles on your eyes gave away what was lurking underneath.

For as angry as you were at Vox, you missed him. You missed feeling him curl against you in bed. You missed being woken up at unholy hours early in the morning because Vox couldn't start his day without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loved you. You missed his shitty taste in shows and how he'd collapse into your arms after a long day at work.

Angel sighed, looking at the boarded-up lobby. "Look I may not get it, but you love the guy, right? Are you really content with possibly dying in a couple of days for a cause you're not even a part of, just because you're pissed with him?"

"He stole my soul, Angie" You frown at him.

"And that is fucked up as hell," he agrees. "But I know you and I know there ain't no way in hell you're actually satisfied leaving shit like this."

"I just-," you start before groaning. "How the hell are we supposed to come back from this? I doubt he'd ever void the contract. He's too convinced he's right for that."

Angel sighed, setting his own cup aside. "Honestly toots, you're not gonna like it, but... He kinda has a point."

You whip your head up to look at him and he holds up his hands defensively. "Not saying that stealing your soul was the right call. Believe me, if anyone gets how fucked it is having your soul controlled by a sociopath with a big ego, it's me. But you're not exactly in the safest of places, dollface. Not to mention, you're dating an overlord who's in a trio determined to piss off as many big shots as possible. His mind may not be in the right place, but his heart kinda is."

You take Angel's words to heart and sigh as you bury your face in your arms. "I hate it, but you're right... I just... I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to be the person that needs to be protected. I want to be his equal, not his problem."

"Then tell him that," Angel sighs. His gaze drifts to the bar and smiles fondly. "Someone recently has taught me how important being real with yourself is. It's okay to be flawed. No one got stuck in this shithole cause we were perfect, y'know?"

He nudged you with a grin as he added, "Plus, come on. Can you imagine how many bitches in hell would kill to have a sexy fucker that wants nothing more than to love ya and keep ya safe? I love you toots, but for fucks sake, pick a struggle."

You snort, shaking your head as you lightly swat at his arm. "Fuck you for being right about shit all the time."

"It's one of my best assets," Angel smirked. "Y'know, aside from all the fluff."

You laughed as he puffed up his chest and by the end of the evening, you'd decided to head back. As much as you loved Angel and wanted nothing more than to be by his side as the extermination drew near, he had a point. This wasn't your fight and there was a controlling dumbass that had been blowing up your phone ever since you left that was praying for your return.

After exchanging promises to see each other after the extermination, you left the hotel. You had an idiot to see.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #angel dust #the tiniest nudge at huskerdust #i know this wasnt super vox focused but the next part def will be

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 year ago

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Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader

Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)

Word Count: 2,411

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.

Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.

There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.

Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.

When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.

The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.

----

Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.

A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.

“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”

There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.

“Say that again.”

Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.

“How may I be of use?”

The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.

“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”

His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.

“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”

Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.

“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.

The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.

Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.

“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”

“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.

Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”

Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.

It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.

“Y/n?”

“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.

Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.

“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”

“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”

“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”

“I know.” she responded almost immediately.

“No, y-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”

Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”

“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.

There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.

“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide.

“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”

“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”

“I loved you. I still do.”

Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.

“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.

Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.

“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”

A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.

“Al, I have to go.”

“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”

As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.

“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”

A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.

“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”

He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”

“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”

Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.

“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”

“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.

“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.

Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.

“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”

As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.

“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.

Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.

“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”

Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.

“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”

——

Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

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that-hazbin · 3 months ago

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Media Demon AU:

What if, through the same mysterious plot contrivance that sent Alastor back in time, the main cast characters suddenly get hit with their memories of the previous timeline?

How would that affect them and their treatment of Alastor or of each other?

Bonus points if none of them realise the others also remember the previous timeline and try to “act normal” and failing spectacularly!

Potential storylines:

Charlie and Vaggie remember their romantic relationship, the disastrous interview with Killjoy, the early extermination, Vaggie’s past life as an exorcist… and Alastor’s death. I’d like to think they would become overly protective of the confused Media Demon, acting almost like bodyguards, and when they are re-reintroduced to each other they basically fall right back into their old relationship dynamic without realising.

Charlie/Vaggie: *acting like a married couple after (supposedly) ten minutes knowing each other* Alastor: *thinking he matchmade them* Huh. Well, that was easy.

Angel Dust remembers being trapped with a much more powerful Valentino.

Angel: Jeez Louise, Al, what’s your beef with Vox? He couldn’t hurt a fly! *suddenly remembers the Vees* Angel: Oh. Okay. I get it now.

Lucifer is brutally reminded of just how terrible Hell used to be due to his own apathy and how much worse it could’ve become. Not only did his wife leave him in disgust but their beloved Alastor gets killed during one of the very exterminations that he had allowed to happen while protecting their daughter from Adam.

Adam: *acts as obnoxious as usual* Lucifer: *has been unnervingly stoic and business-like all meeting, his eyes hidden beneath the shade of his hat* Adam: *annoyed at the lack of reaction* So, I heard that daughter of yours has opened a Hotel. In hopes of redeeming Sinners and getting them to heaven or some shit. Lucifer: *pauses from shuffling his paperwork* Adam: *laughs uproariously* WHAT A JOKE! Perhaps I should remind sinners of their place by paying that dump a little visit next ex- Lucifer: *grabs Adam by the back of the head and SLAMS his face into the table, smashing his face plate* Lute: ADAM! *is forced to back off when Lucifer spits a fireball at her* Fuck… Lucifer: *grips Adam by the jaw, snarling at him with glowing red eyes* Listen here you arrogant little shit! The Hazbin Hotel is under the protection of the Royal Family. If you or your exorcists so much as breath in the vicinity of that Hotel I will consider that a declaration of war! I will hunt you down, rip off your wings, break open your chest cavity and force feed your ribs to you one by one!

We currently have no idea why Lilith is in heaven, but I am under the impression she did not abandon her daughter willingly.

Vox remembers his lost Television Empire, his partnership with Valentino and his ability to hypnotise the masses. Would he try to regain the fame he lost or be horrified with his past self?

I think the best way for the "returning memories" thing to work would be that 1, only the people in the immediate vicinity of Alastor in the time of his death regain their memories, and 2, they only regain their memories the same moment in time the spell was cast in the previous timeline. By these limitations, the only people to remember would be Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggie.

(Again, I HC Vox as someone very easily influenced, and power is kind of a big influence. Vox regaining any of his memories as someone powerful would kind of ruin things I feel.)

I think it would be super interesting if the whole "battle against heaven" didn't happen in this timeline (at least not yet) when the three regain their memories. I think it would be even MORE interesting for Lucifer to regain his memories, but Lilith doesn't, therefore leaving him in the dark as to where his wife disappeared off to in the previous timeline, and what changed in this one to avoid that.

I also think it would be super funny for Alastor to be tackled to the ground by Lucifer and Charlie, blubbering about how happy they are he isn't dead, and Vaggie awkwardly in the background, very obviously holding back from doing the same thing.

And oh, the overprotectiveness will be delicious.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #lilith morningstar #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #vaggie #media demon au #chaggie #lucilith #radioapple #appleradio #radioqueen #hellradio

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nameless-flame · 2 years ago

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RoR gods reactions to you calling Poseidon a 💅Drama Queen💅

RoR and fem!Reader crack below the cut

Seated along the round table, various prominent figures of each pantheon waited, some more patiently than others, for the mortal standing before them to reveal what she had summoned them for.

[Name] cleared her throat, putting an end to the idle chatter that had previously filled the walls of the old-fashioned conference room. "I have called you to this meeting to discuss a matter of utmost importance."

Shiva rolled his neck, allowing his eyes to freely wander between the faces of the gods – all deemed to be high figures in their respective pantheon – some even belonging to the same one. And yet, there was one man missing.

Leaning his chair back, the God of Destruction balanced himself with two hands holding onto the edge of the table, whilst his remaining two rested behind his head. "Where's that sea deity?"

Shooting a glare in Shiva’s direction, [Name] resumed talking. “If you had not so rudely interrupted me you would have known why.”

The blue man merely rolled his eyes. He had long before grown used to her more… unmannerly way of addressing them. Her disrespectful attitude had at first irked him, and many other deities, but eventually whatever ill feelings they initially harboured toward her soon evolved into intrigue, and later friendship. Some even more than that.

Seeing how the god had not argued back, the human continued. "As for why Sea Boy isn’t here with us today, I didn’t invite him.”

Hades’ brows flickered and he paused his chess match with Zeus. “I presume this meeting concerns my brother?”

[Name] gave the God of the Underworld a curt nod. “I’ll just get straight to the point so to not further waste our time. Can we all come to common agreement that Poseidon is the biggest drama queen in history?"

Hades didn’t know what was more worrisome; her odd exclaim, or the fact that no one had so much as reacted to it. Have things like this truly become the norm?

Most eyes darted to Apollo, and then lingered there, before returning to her, obviously questioning her statement. However, [Name] did not yield under their distrustful stares but continued speaking without any less conviction. "Yes, sure. Some might argue that the twink has some dramatic traits as well."

Apollo craned his neck in her direction, no longer staring in the reflection of his hand mirror. "Why are we listening to her, again?"

“Because they’d rather be here than at one more of your lame parties.” Apollo furrowed his brows, but ultimately decided to just massage the tense muscles of his temples, not desiring to start a fruitless dispute with her.

“But we are not here to talk about Apollo, but Poseidon – the biggest drama queen I have ever encountered in my entire life.”

Beelzebub sighed, tapping his foot impatiently against the marble floor. He just wanted to return to his research. “How did you even come to such an irrational conclusion?”

Standing tall, [Name] placed her hands on her hips. “Irrational? Do you guys truly not see it?” Blank stares were shot in her direction, only Heracles and Ares had the decency to shake their heads.

“Well then, allow me to provide you with an example; If a fly were to land on that drama queen’s shoulder, he would not hesitate to drown all their villages, slaughter their children, and then feed their corpses to the nearest animal.”

Loki snickered, obviously finding some amusement in what he deemed to be an exaggerated story. [Name] ignored him and continued. “And then, to truly top it off, after exterminating an entire species he would just act as normal, as if his reaction was more than justifiable.”

“She does have a point,” the serene voice of Aphrodite spoke. “Poseidon’s reactions do tend to be quite… overbearing at times.”

[Name] dragged a hand through her hair in hope that the motion would soothe her racing mind. “And I know this to be true because that fly is a metaphor for us humans. I literally bumped into him just the other day, and this bitch-”

A warning glare from Hades.

“This very fine gentleman acted like I gave him the bubonic plague.” Loki and Shiva broke into a fit of laughter. The Hindu god even toppled off his chair, but that didn’t seem to encourage him from continuously laughing his ass off.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, continue howling all day long you buffoons, but I think I singlehandedly made him wish for a second Ragnarok.” This only made the duo double over, trying to choose between drying their tears or holding their stomachs. It was a good day for Shiva to have four arms.

Hermes, however, coaxed his brows. “Do you mean to tell us that you came in contact with Lord Poseidon without invoking his wrath?”

[Name] cocked her head to the side. “Didn’t I just tell you that he looked like he wanted to pierce me into a shish kebab?”

Hades moved his king one square forward on the chessboard, the slight click when the piece hit the wood gaining her attention. “That is not what he meant, my dear. If our brother is truly angry, he will not hesitate to kill whoever is around him. The fact that you are still alive indicates that he had no desire of ending your life.”

Odin nodded from the seat beside his son, who was staring out of the window, wishing for this conversation to come to an end.

"This!” [Name]’s sudden outburst caught the attention of everyone in the room, including the socially withdrawn God of Thunder. “This is what I mean when I call him dramatic! You have just grown used to his actions. Look, I don't mind his exaggerated reactions, but he needs a bit of variation.”

[Name] began pacing around the room, her back straight and chin held high, while holding a stick in her hand. Where did she even get that?

“Someone breathes the same air as me? Dead.” Everyone’s eyes widened.

She was imitating Poseidon.

“Someone accidentally steps on my foot? Dead. Someone has the audacity to look me straight in the eye? Dead.” She stopped and heaved a heavy sigh, “Like, come on. Try something new for once, please."

Zeus stroked his long beard. "Wait, let me get this straight. You mean to tell us that your problem with Poseidon is not his behaviour, but that it has grown old?"

[Name] slammed her hands against the table, making the glasses along the wine bottles on it shake with the sudden force. “Yes!”

“This meeting is over.” Hades declared, already walking away. It did not take long for the other deities to follow him, Loki and Shiva needing to crawl out from all their excessive laughing.

“Fine, go! But don’t come crying to me when you guys realize I was right!”

“We won’t,” cooed Zeus.

…

“Hades?”

“Yes, Zeus?”

The King of the Gods blinked, not believing his eyes. “Why is Poseidon drowning that entire meadow?”

Before the two deities stood their brother, sending wave after wave into a beautiful landscape of green hills and the most gorgeous of flowers.

Hades sighed, running a hand through his white hair. “To kill the flies.”

Zeus turned his head to his brother, already dreading his next answer. “Why?”

The King of the Underworld gulped, cursing that mortal for how correct she had been. “Because a fly had landed on his shoulder.”

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ani-iu · 5 months ago

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[𝟏/𝟐] 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female sinner 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 × 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are a sinner in Hell, and you want to die—permanently. You own nothing, not even your soul, and struggle every day just to exist. That is why you view the annual exterminations as your only hope and the last pardon from God to sinners.

When the day comes and you lie down with an exorcist angel hovering above you, you accept your fate with a serene smile on your face. Finally, you will be free.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

But your executioner just had to be the first man himself.

Killing sinners when they want it is not as fun, which is why Adam presents you with a deal—your kind likes those, right? He will kill you, but only if you are willing to listen to him spill everything that is weighing on his soul. Dead tell no tales, and Adam really needs someone to talk to.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst; bittersweet ending; implied/referenced suicide; suicidal thoughts; implied/referenced rape/non-con; rape/non-con elements; drug use and addiction; self-image issues; canon-typical violence; explicit sexual content; dubious consent; unhealthy power dynamic expressed through cannibalism; religious imagery & symbolism; religious guilt; Adam being Adam; blood and gore; dead dove: do not eat. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,6k.

// wrath of god

𝐘ou were falling for a while—as if everything slowed down the moment you jumped.

At first, you had your eyes opened. The crisp late November air was cold but not unpleasant against your sweaty skin—invigorating even—and when you opened your mouth, it tasted of a faint hint of ice and stifling city pollution. You never felt so at peace as you did at that moment, so you allowed your tense body to surrender itself to gravity rather quickly and without much fight.

It was only once you got closer to splattering against the pavement that you finally closed your eyes and, with a palpitating heart, braced yourself for the impact. But it never came.

You just kept falling.

And falling.

Delayed confrontation with your painful death not only confused you but also twisted your stomach in a suffocating swirl of anxiety-inducing inevitability and sick giddiness. Was this the moment I would see my life flash in front of me?

You wished—no—you needed to catch a vivid glimpse of your sun-drenched childhood days, unclouded by the passing of time. It wouldn’t have changed a thing. You already made your irreversible decision. However, it felt strange not to cry in this circumstance, and perhaps childhood nostalgia would have been able to squeeze a few drops out of you.

To be honest, you didn’t know who you were trying to please with the waterworks, but after spending your entire life seeking approval from others, you wanted to end it the same way by showing off to the first responders your glossy, tear-stained cheeks while they scrape off your mangled body from the asphalt.

Yet, all you could think of was the ten-minute countdown toward the end, which played inside your mind on a taunting loop—ending the moment you hopped over the railing to your death and starting again the moment the door of the balcony clicked shut behind you.

Click.

Back pressed against the glass, you stand frozen in place for a moment, simply listening to the clamour of the city below. Icy snowflakes fall over your shoulders, creating a comforting blanket of pure white, but your body quickly melts it all away as if something as tainted as you didn’t deserve its biting solace.

You clutch your phone close to your chest like it is the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment.

Carefully and without loosening your deadly grip, you peel the device away until the screen senses your face and unlocks itself, presenting you with a lengthy list of contacts.

Thumb gliding over the wet screen as you scroll through hundreds of numbers brings you back to reality alongside a heavy feeling in your gut. You are reminded of just how useless the device is to you.

But your desperation has grown since the last time you contemplated reaching out for help. To the point you even consider setting aside any animosity you hold toward your mother. You could reach out to her, but, childishly, you have her contact listed under her name, and, well, her name turns out to be common enough to have three namesakes saved in your contacts, making it impossible to decide which one to call.

Yet, you don’t even try to call at least one of them. Your pride is stuck inside your throat—impossible to swallow. So you lock your phone and drop it into your coat pocket, substituting the device for a pack of cigarettes.

The filter sticks to your dry lips while you intensely watch the flame repeatedly lose the fight against the wind. Yet, with furrowed eyebrows, you refuse to let the fire die—rolling your thumb against the steel wheel of the lighter to spark it up again.

And again.

The moment smoke hits the back of your throat, you release a sigh of contentment before taking a shaky lungful. All the tension leaves your body as you lean against the safety railing and shake the ash into the darkness below, watching it dance together with the falling snowflakes in one harmonious rhythm.

"Tempting, isn't it?"

So much for peace and quiet.

You push away from the edge and twist your body toward the devil himself.

You just had to get in his way, had to catch his predatory gaze from across the room after one of the fashion shows you were modelling at. As if any of this was even my choice. Nothing was. I didn't choose him, but he chose me—to drug, defile, and pass around his pretentious, disgusting buddies.

Said man is leaning against the doorway, his dark hair blending in with the night. He turns his head toward the railing you are leaning against and follows his suggestion with a mocking laugh. "It’s not like you would be missed. After all, you are still here."

He leaves you after that, not bothering to close the door behind him. He knows you will come back. You always do.

Flicking the butt of the cigarette, you watch it free fall and just disappear into the pitch-black abyss below—used and discarded. You still remember how light the filter felt in between your fingers. I bet its fall is light too—

You take a step back as if the wet phone in your pocket has finally short-circuited and electrocuted you.

I am loved, you tell yourself as you push your freezing hand into your pocket until your bony fingers curl around the cell phone.

You haven’t entertained the thought of jumping until now. That should show that this isn’t your doing; these aren’t your thoughts. He is the parasite that infected yet another aspect of your life.

Pulling out the device with shaking hands, you stare at an empty lock screen.

He is lying, trying to get a rise out of you, your racing mind supplies as your grip tightens.

The screen turns dark, and the phone stays silent. You hold it for a while longer—your phone as well as your breath.

The air you exhale comes out as a puffy cloud. You look up at the sky and the falling snowflakes. They cover your face in small blotches, their coldness lasting a moment like a small, calming kiss against your burning skin. Then they melt and roll down your face and down your neck into the inside of your shirt.

Daring a glance over the railing, you slowly become mesmerised by the serenity and tranquillity that darkness provides.

And you can’t help but believe him.

No one would notice if I just disappeared.

With that last thought, you finally hit the ground with a jarring slam. The impact knocked the remaining air out of your lungs, paralysing your body with the most overwhelming pain and making any kind of movement impossible for a short moment. A bloodcurdling scream pierced right through the ringing in your ears, and only when you felt your throat burn did you realise that the screaming belonged to you—not some kind of wounded animal.

Pain was the clearest indication that you were still alive, and fearing that you had somehow managed to survive your attempt, you opened your eyes only to be confronted with a reality that was even worse than that.

The air around you was heavy like lead, crushing your whole being to the ground and filling your lungs with sour and bitter fumes. Everything around you was drenched in red. It was as if you fell through the earth's crust all the way to its magmatic middle. The seemingly impossible scenario would have provided an explanation for the long fall and seemed much more plausible to you than what the pentagram above would imply.

However, before you could comprehend your current predicament to the full extent, the dainty silver cross that you always wore around your neck began to burn you through your clothing, causing you to grip it without a second thought and frantically tug on the chain to take it off. It scorched your palm, filling the air with the nauseatingly sweet smell of burnt flesh.

If asked, you wouldn’t have been able to say for certain how long it took for it to finally break—you still don’t know—you just remember the short-lived relief, which quickly got overshadowed by the heavy implication of the aftermath.

There was an ugly taste in the back of your throat as you watched in horror how the precious metal melted in front of your eyes, becoming so hot that the silver puddle turned red and blended in with the ground beneath your feet. You wanted to scream in horror, but all that left your throat was a pathetic whimper.

Not only were you in Hell, but this gesture felt like the God you prayed to your whole life just slammed the door of His home right in front of your face.

At some point, you had managed to drag yourself into a nearby alley to get your bearings. But the moment your heavy head hit the wall, one of the back doors opened, and you saw a demon being tossed out, their bones cracking as they rolled down the steep flight of stairs, landing right by your feet.

That's how you met Isaac—a sinner whom you genuinely considered a friend, even though you sometimes wondered if he was real or merely a figment of your imagination, given how he made your afterlife a tiny bit more bearable. His optimism was infectious, yet you couldn't miss the way his smile always hinted at the regret he never fully expressed to you. But it wasn't like you divulged much about yourself either, as fear always held you back despite your longing for connection.

That’s who you were—a coward. And you stayed true to that title, remaining hidden in the shadows even while Isaac was being butchered by an angel from Heaven.

You physically couldn’t move. Instead, you attempted to justify your cowardice by reminding yourself how agonisingly painful regeneration is for sinners. If you also got hurt, no one else would take care of your friend, so you stayed in your hideout until the early hours of the morning when the flock of angels finally retreated back into the sky.

Once you approached the scene, all you saw were the fleshy pieces scattered on the brimstone. If you hadn’t witnessed the slaughter for yourself, there would be no way for you to put a name to the innards that were left behind.

You sat there, cradling the wet chunks of meat in your frail hold, until night fell. It wasn't until the end of the next day that it finally dawned on you that Isaac was not coming back.

And for the first time since your arrival in Hell, you smiled.

In your despair, you had forgotten that when God closes the door, He opens a window. And as you hugged the rotting meat closer to yourself until the mince spilt out of your embrace, you thanked God—in the form of a little prayer murmured under your nose—for showing you that window of hope.

Since then, the only thing on your mind has been next year's extermination.

» » »

It was definitely suicide that earned you a one-way ticket to Hell, yet sometimes you can't help but wonder if it's modelling.

It's a stupid thought, and it’s not like it matters that much now anyway, but being stuck in Hell—a place where sinners endure repetitive and eternal punishment tailored to their sins—and doing the same thing you did in life... damn it, you just can’t help but wonder if that’s what got you here in the first place.

After all, it seems that everything went downhill in your life and afterlife once you signed your modelling contract—both times signing away your soul.

Even so, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your eyes never squint when the stage lights cut you out from the surrounding darkness. And the rush you get—it’s almost worth everything unpleasant that comes with it. It’s your Achilles heel and the only thing you can still enjoy down here.

You also used to love the mirror and how it reflected your carefully crafted image, but now it mocks you. Your reflection is mostly blurry, and your features look so warped that it’s as if your mind can’t fully comprehend your new appearance. Guilt. Maybe this is your true punishment—not the eternal flames of Hell, but the torment of your own gaze.

So you meticulously navigate the house of mirrors that is Velvette’s studio, your head downturned in sorrow and shame like a wannabe penitent Mary Magdalene.

You conceal this weakness in character under the guise of being for others' eyes and not your own—a product of the Vees for the masses to consume. The self-effacing slogan is intriguing and seems to work for Velvette. You are a mannequin for her pretty clothes, and that’s it. She cares very little about your inner demons.

But nothing matters anymore, as you make your way down the hall for one last stop before you go to find yourself an empty spot somewhere in the streets. You doubt it will be difficult to do that. It shouldn't be crowded. Not tonight, at least.

For a year you suffered through Velevette’s verbal and physical abuse, avoided Vox’s reflective screen, and tried to stay away from Valentino. He was the most difficult of the Vees to avoid. And that is saying much, as even now—as you make your way down the hall—you keep pulling onto the silk lapels of your robe in a desperate attempt to hide your exposed skin from the blinking cameras seemingly at every corner.

You wanted to escape Valentino. You really did. But you were dependent on the overlord.

The pain from your fall never left you. It weighs on you like a heavy burden of sin. It’s Hell—you are supposed to suffer—yet coming to terms with it doesn’t make it better.

The drugs do. They placate the pain for a short while, but it all comes back sooner or later. Bit by bit, it returns slowly, like some sick joke. But it’s bearable at first, and it tricks you into thinking that you can manage it on your own. You don’t need the drugs. You don’t need him. However, then it comes back just as unbearable as it was before, and your resolve gets crushed, allowing Valentino to play a saviour again.

Your footsteps are quiet. The magenta carpeting below muffles the clicking sound your high heels make, and the further you venture away from Velvette’s side of the building, the sparser all the mirrors become and the higher your chin raises.

Finally, you come to a stop in front of the double door.

With your arms at your sides, you try to remind yourself of the shame you feel every time you leave his penthouse, that it’s not worth it. Valentino’s smoke made you retch, and his touch made you sick, but it all also reminded you of the time when you were alive. The most horrible parts of it, but for you—someone who is desperately clinging to the last remnants of their humanity—it was a comforting reminder.

You open the door to what can only be described as a sanctum of vanity. You step into Valentino’s carefully crafted reality, an empire built on charm and exploitation, bleeding hedonism from its every crevice. The air is clouded in a thick mist of smoke, hiding the true danger within. Yet even if you can’t see him, you can sense his presence and feel his invisible gaze undressing you from afar.

And suddenly your surroundings become insignificant.

"Ah, I was wondering if you would show your beautiful face tonight. Are you done playing hard to get?" A voice emerges somewhere from the thick, pink cloud of smoke. Valentino shifts from lying back on one of the opulent loveseats into a sitting position, legs spread apart, inviting. Coincidentally, he has also exchanged his usual attire for an old Hollywood-style robe, befitting his role as a film director, you suppose. It has flowing sleeves adorned with fluffy trim around the edges that Velvette would most likely describe as tacky and cheap-looking. "Come on, don’t keep me waiting, muñeca."

You don’t say anything as you step further into the room, the door closing shut behind you. Valentino already has you in his trap, ever since you took your first breath in this room. Your eyelids feel heavy until they drop to cover half of your irises, mirroring your body as you subserviently lower yourself onto your knees before the tall, hulking moth overlord and crawl closer to him.

You hear Valentino chuckle as he exhales another puff of smoke that caresses your skin with a featherlike softness and wraps around your ankles like chains, slowing down your movements by weighing down your limbs. The bliss you feel—as you inhale more of the vinaceous and just as intoxicating smoke—is overwhelming.

Your robe creeps up with every move, exposing your bare calves. Another move and it’s your thighs on display.

Valentino extends his hand to you like salvation—like a lifeline to which you can’t help but cling every single time, even if you say to yourself it’s the last time. Even if right now you feel utterly humiliated and disappointed with yourself.

Once he wraps his fingers around your wrist, he drags you like a ragdoll until you are kneeling between his spread-out knees. With your arm still in his bruising grasp, you support your weight on your free one, pressing your palm into a velveteen cushion beside his leg. Now that both of your hands are occupied, you lower your face towards his crotch, gazing up at him as you do.

As you are about to reach and lift the thin layer of his robe with your teeth, Valentino tugs your pliant body on top of his until you find your place in his lap instead. A startled gasp followed up by a little whine leaves your mouth—he caught you off guard, and the way he forcefully pulls you up hurts, but the little sound might as well be interpreted by the man as disappointment towards him taking away a sweet treat from you.

"Eager little thing you are." His tone is teasing and overlaid with his smooth, saccharine-sweet accent. But that is only the surface level. You can’t help but pick up a tinge of surprise in Valentino’s voice, like he is surprised by your audacity to try and avoid him and then attempt to suck his dick, the action that he regards as a prize rather than a torment to your jaw.

A shiver runs down your spine, and your empty stomach swirls with unease as all you can do is go along with whatever he has in store for you, even if it feels like being accompanied on a walk and seeing a guillotine at the end of the trail.

His lower set of arms brushes up and down along your thighs, eyes never leaving your body while you take that time to work on tugging and tearing at the silky fabric to expose more of your skin for his enjoyment, bearing it all to his hungry gaze. He hums in approval, moving his hands upwards from your thighs until his palms rest on your ass and hips, nudging you to get closer to him.

Your knees tremble from the force and from having to support the weight of your body, so you sit down, feeling him already hard underneath the thin layer of his robe. You sigh, unable to suppress the involuntary throb between your legs which spurs you into grinding against Valentino just to feel some kind of relief for the itch you can’t seem to scratch on your own.

"I knew you would be back. There’s no way a little dependent slut like you could get away." His hands, still resting on your backside, take a firmer grip on the plump flesh, helping you move faster, harder. The friction sends pleasant tingles across your whole body, and you close your eyes, greedily enjoying the pleasure while it lasts, which you know won’t be long. You are so lost in it that you don’t even notice when one of Valentino’s hands from his upper set of arms roughly grabs you by your jaw, bringing your face in line with his. "Even if you try."

Valentino’s palm unassumingly rests on the column of your neck for a bit, until his grip tightens and he forcefully hoists you up till you are back on your knees. You roughly swallow down your answer and simply nod. If you weren’t Velvette’s prized model, Valentino would have snatched you for the studio a long time ago.

His lips stretch into a satisfied smirk, but it doesn’t bring you much comfort.

For a second your gaze flutters downwards, where you notice that his other hand has moved to grab his cock that already has beads of precum spilling to the surface of the tip. He smears it with his thumb and gives his whole length a few languid strokes with little amusement.

Finally, he lets go of your face and this time brings his bruising touch up to your waist while he aligns his tip with your dripping folds.

Valentino is not gentle, and he doesn’t waste time on anything apart from his own pleasure—pushing his cock inside you with no care for your comfort. The stretch, as your bruised inner walls try to accommodate him on such short notice and with no preparation, is excruciating.

You grab his shoulders and try to slow down the painful descent while taking deep breaths in order to relax your muscles before Valentino loses his patience.

Speaking of the man—he leans back to watch over the stiff, trembling mess that is you with a bored yet contemplative expression. One of his upper set of hands rests comfortably over the backrest of the loveseat, his fingers drumming against the velvet upholstery. The other brings the cigarette holder closer to his lips.

"I—ngh!" can’t is what you want to say but are unable to through gritted teeth. It was a mistake to come here, your inner voice screams at you, and you scream back, I know that!

Your cunt clenches around him as your body naturally tries to push him out of you, but then he blows another plume of the headily noxious smoke into your face and smirks as he watches how your pupils instantaneously dilate.

What you inhale knocks down your defences and allows Valentino to forcefully thrust the rest of himself into you. All you can do is dig your nails into his shoulder blades and throw your head back in relief that the worst is over.

The force is a silent threat that you understand clearly, so before he gets angry, you pick yourself up on shaky legs and lower yourself down on his throbbing cock, adopting a pace you know he enjoys while bouncing through the pain.

Desperately searching for a way to take your mind off the situation, you peek over his shoulder at the window walls that provide you with the sprawling skyline of Pentagram City. But not for long.

As the sky behind the glass slowly turns into a slightly deeper and darker shade of vermilion, the outside vanishes, leaving you to stare at the reflection of the room, which makes Valentino’s penthouse look isolated and endless.

You can see the outline of your figure reflected in the glass like your body is still there; you can feel it mounted on Valentino’s cock, but your consciousness is back there by the window, akin to a frigidly indifferent onlooker watching from a distance, judging.

The ache from the overlord’s bruising touch is gone, as is the excruciating pain lingering from your fall to damnation. You just feel numb.

The face of your reflection is a swirl of colour—a mix of your skin tone, the tint of your lips, and the hue of your irises—as if the image is so unrecognisable to your brain that it cannot even generate the most basic human features. You hardly remember what you look like as is; it would not matter if the reflection is accurate either way.

Valentino grabs you by the hair and brings your attention back to the present moment by aligning your face with his own. You could see yourself reflected in his glasses if not for the tears glossing over your vision.

Both of your lips are parted and inches away—his hot breath mixes with your own to the point you can taste the sickly sweet remnants of smoke on your tongue.

With half-lidded eyes, you pant out breathless little ah ah ah’s every time his hips meet with your own, and a little shudder accompanying his every exhale is the only indicator that he somewhat enjoys this and isn’t just doing it as a humiliating punishment.

Valentino is close. His thrusts have become more erratic, chasing after his own need for release.

You whimper when he lowers his head and, with hot lips, grazes the dewy skin pulled taut over your collarbone—not yet kissing it but close. Oh, so close.

A girl can dream about a tender little kiss, and in a momentary lapse in judgement, you allow that possibility to hang heavy in the air like the cloying smell of sex as you tilt your head slightly sideways and lift your chin, leaving your neck vulnerable to him to do as he pleases.

But Valentino doesn’t do sweet little kisses, and if that well-known character quirk of his did not clue you in, then a gust of breath over your pulse point should have been a warning.

"Ah!"

Valentino sinks his teeth into the juncture where your neck and shoulder connect. The pleasant pressure in your lower stomach gets replaced with a sinking feeling as the sharp pain locks your whole body with excruciating pain.

He spills himself into your trembling body while you weakly push against him in an attempt to get away, but all it does is help him tear the chunk of meat and tendons out of your body.

Valentino growls into your open wound, and you stop resisting. His hot cum flowing down your legs is as uncomfortably hot as the bile rising up your throat.

You hear him loudly gulp down the bloody chunk and chuckle, "It doesn’t matter that I don’t own your soul on paper. You will always be mine. Even when this heals up," he licks a long stripe against the pulsing wound, making you gasp and squirm. The deceptively charming tone of his voice is gone just like that, replaced by one with a warning undertone exhaled right into the bloody injury. "There will always be a piece of you missing. Don’t make me wait for you next time."

Like a child hiding a broken vase before your parents even notice the glass shards, you smile at him, knowing that after tonight you will have nothing to worry about. You could make any promise; it won’t matter.

You exhale contentedly, "I won’t, Valentino. Never."

Valentino hums, stroking your upper arm with soft, sensual caresses, none the wiser to your plans. The unusual gentleness, alongside lightheadedness from blood loss and rhythmic throbbing in your neck, begins to slowly lull you to sleep. Your eyelids grow heavier with every touch that Valentino spares you, and unconsciously you begin to negotiate with yourself, only for a little bit… I will close my eyes for a moment… Hell knows I deserve it—

Doubtful that sinners have guardian angels, but unable to explain the sudden need to meet Valentino’s palpably piercing gaze in any other way, you cannot do anything but thank God that you do before you succumb to the temptation of sleep.

The terror in that moment is greater than exhaustion. You quickly scramble to your feet, swaying to the sides like a sapling trying its best to hold up against the wind.

Your arms are shaking and going numb; you can’t even feel the piece of clothing in your hands. A thin layer of fresh skin has already stretched over the wound at the base of your neck, but as you tug your robe back onto your shoulders, the thin layer rips, blinding you with pain until the black spots in your vision grow bigger.

Gentle, the man is not, and still knowing this, you almost fell for the trap. All this time, he has seen through you and almost ensnared you. Shame on you for thinking yourself to be wiser.

Valentino hasn’t made a move to drag you back. He… just smiles, while one of his many arms is twirling the cigarette holder between long, dexterous fingers. The fresh smoke hits your nose, and you feel your mouth start watering.

You don’t play with untamed fire for any longer than you already have, quickly making your way on wobbly legs towards the door. It slams shut with a resounding thud, but not before Valentino’s mocking purr slips through the crack and hits you on the way out.

"Better hurry, muñeca."

Hyperventilating, you stumble into a wall. The stale smell of smoke permeates the air even outside Valentino’s room in the hallway. There’s a taste of bile in the back of your throat as you feel it coming up, but all you can do is lean your forehead against the wall, close your eyes, and ride it out without, hopefully, regurgitating the stomach acids on the carpet.

With an exhale, you will yourself to open your eyes, afraid of falling asleep. Not here, not now.

Your wounded arm hangs limp beside you as the drops of viscous blood drip from the tips of your fingers onto the carpeting below.

Finally, you push yourself to stand straight, and with an ungainly walk, you exit the tower.

You look back only once.

Lost in a trance-like daze, you don't know how long you wandered the streets or when you managed to doze off in the spot you ultimately decided to pick as your final resting place. When you jump awake, all you know is that you eventually did.

The first of seven loud, steely bell rings echoes through the air, symbolising the start of the extermination. It is soon followed by the second and the third one.

In the rubble and decay left over from the last extermination, desperate sinners get ready for a new one—scrambling to hide against the inevitable.

Feeling indifferent towards their plight, you hug your knees closer to your chest, take out your last cigarette, and press the tip against the ground to light it. You take the first puff and close your eyes, exhaling the acrid smoke through your nose with a shaky breath as another loud chime rings through the air and sends a shiver down your spine.

You are ready to die, your inner voice tries to placate you as you subconsciously dig your heels into the ground with an overwhelming want to flee. You never wanted to die—not in life, nor the after. All you wish is for the pain to finally stop. And if this is what it’s going to take…

Another inhale.

You flick the ash, some of it falling on the tip of your stiletto. You don’t bother brushing it away. Instead, you raise your gaze to take in your surroundings and can't help but feel something swirling inside your stomach. Is that... longing?

Not for Hell, that’s for sure, but rather resurfacing memories that this part of the Pride Ring brings to the forefront of your mind. You are in the industrial area of Pentagram City, nestled somewhere behind the Carmine factories. Maybe it’s weird to find nostalgia in concrete, but as you remember yourself, you were always the sentimental type, especially before dying. And looking at the sculptural, dilapidated buildings—that are only good at serving a functional purpose—reminds you of your home before you got swept up in the fake glamour of the fashion world.

Concrete’s grey colour gives off a cold feeling to many, but you harbour a different kind of sentiment towards monochrome structures. You rarely visited your childhood home after your career as a model kicked off, so the memories you have of it are saturated with the dreamlike wonder of a curious child whose mind worked tirelessly to supply colour to even the most drab parts of suburbia.

And in her youthful eyes, the concrete was never cold—not in colour, and most definitely not in feeling.

Be it the sunset, painting the walls of a concrete-panelled five-storey apartment building in the warmest of colours, or your little self trying to climb on top of the concrete tunnels at the playground that had been exposed to the sun all day—your palms firmly pressed against the warm, rough surface as you pushed yourself upward, straining to lift your body on top, and painfully scraping your bare knees until they were stained with warm blood and throbbed with hot pain. To you, the concrete was warm and felt like home.

Until it didn’t.

You grew, and the oversaturated lens through which you used to gaze at life began fading out into an all-consuming fog of depressing grey. You wanted more from the miserable existence, chased unreachable dreams and that childhood high, substituting the lack of colour in your life with artificial big city lights.

Simultaneously, your ambitions got bigger, but no accomplishment could replicate the youthful optimism you once had, and no drug could synthesise it.

You pursued the unattainable until you burnt out.

Casting your gaze at the filter between your fingers, you are taken out of your contemplative haze by another ring of the bell. You have gotten so lost in your own thoughts that you are unsure if it’s the fifth or the seventh ring.

Cries of murder have become white noise after two years of living in literal Hell, but these screams now are different. Sinners yell for others of their kind to hide, and at first, only the distant echoes of their desperation reach you. That is until the nearest sinner to you blocks your line of vision and screams into your face.

"Don’t just sit there! Hide—"

Just like that, an angelic steel-edged axe, bearing a close resemblance to a musical instrument, cuts the sinner obliquely through. His mouth doesn’t have time to even have time to close properly as the top half of his body is already sliding off to the ground before he can finish the sentence. His lower half follows soon after and crumbles down in the same spot he once stood.

Slimy, black intestines, like live eels, slither near your feet, angrily hissing at you as the hot ground underneath sizzles them. You attempt to dodge them with your feet, letting out a petrified squeal as one of them bursts open and the fountain of blood sprays along your skin and the silk fabric of your robe.

That last ring of the bell you heard a second ago was indeed the last one.

The sinner is no longer blocking your view, but before you can take a good look at who dealt them their final blow, you are being kicked in your chest, causing you to tumble backwards and your head to hit the ground with a sickening crack. Your eyes snap shut from the force and pain. And you keep them that way.

Your ears prickle at the sound of sandy gravel crunching underneath his steps until you feel the heavy-duty combat boot press into your chest cavity with a weight and hardness akin to that of metal.

Exorcist angels, like true bringers of death, pierce the congealed blood skies with their scythe-like wings in unparalleled grace and speed. Monochrome in their colour scheme reminds you of a more hellish version of a common swift. They are small yet lethal, but the angel on you, digging his boot into your barely covered skin, is bigger and heavier and, most importantly—set on making the punishing pain last.

Just your luck.

You try to breathe, but the pressure on your ribcage constricts your chest. The feeling is soon followed up by a sickening crack. And you couldn’t be happier. You have never felt as close to salvation as you did in this moment. The pain is almost euphoric.

Then, you feel the cold lick of the angel's blade against your neck, merely ghosting your skin. You arch your back in an absolutely sinful manner so the sharp silver edge of his weapon would glide against your skin, inviting him to slice it through.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

You open your eyes to look at the demonic face of an angel, hm… ironic.

He doesn’t suit his surroundings. Be it the incandescence of a halo above his head, casting a saintly shine over him, or the soft pastel colour palette of his robes sticking out amidst the eternally burning inferno, like the whiteness of Heaven in the bloody sky.

Even the red blood of the sinner, running down his weapon and dripping near the angel’s feet, doesn’t seem to ruin his sanctimonious image. Filthy—yes, as it stains the pristine visage of something sacred, but spilt righteously.

The angel’s pitiless eyes glint like his unfurled, golden wings.

"Are you deaf?"

His voice is spiced with mockery, like an action of spitting on someone but expressed with words.

"No, I heard you. I’m just wondering why you haven’t killed me yet."

He looks at you and blinks twice, assessing the situation.

Then he gets up from you.

You hungrily inhale lungfuls of sulphuric air once the pressure lifts from your chest. Gasping, you scramble to reach out for him, cutting the pads of your fingers against the sharp blade of his axe. No— NO!

Without mercy, he swats your hand away with so much force that it numbly dangles beside you, but that’s when you try again with your other one. This one he grabs in his firm hold, applying pressure until your bones scream for you to surrender. As if you care about anything that happens to your ugly sinner body. You welcome pain.

He keeps you at arm's length like a flea-infested mongrel, but his words are as clear as if he had somehow gotten inside your head and screamed them into your mind.

"Bitch, you just had to ruin it for me! It’s no fun if you want it!"

You don't manage to say anything. You just open your mouth, gathering words. Not the first time I’ve heard those words from a man. There’s a pang in your chest. You have managed to ruin this not only for yourself but for others.

You are so insignificant, even killing you is not worth it.

"Sorry."

"Huh?"

"Please… I just want peace." Eternal peace.

The holographic mouth curls into an ugly snarl as he growls a wordless, ‘How dare you want something, and how dare you expect me to oblige?'

That was not the right thing to say.

The angel tugs you closer till you lose your balance and fall face-first into him, but before you can collide with his stomach, he manhandles you, grabbing you by the jaw. Your head is firmly tilted, forcing your gaze to meet his. His hand feels huge; long fingers envelop the entirety of the right side of your face while his thumb is jabbed into your cheek on the left, pushing the tender flesh inwards until it painfully smushes against the sharp edges of your molars and draws blood. His palm covers your mouth and nose, not allowing you to breathe. One squeeze of his hand and he could crush your head like a rotten fruit that has gone soft.

Instinctively, your body’s natural reaction is to grab your executioner by the wrist to stop him from causing you more harm. However, before your fingers can make contact with his inky skin, you quickly withdraw and forcefully drop your hand beside you, digging your nails into your fleshy thigh and tensing the muscles in your jaw. You will endure this—anything—if only it means that you will be free.

But that does not mean that this is not excruciating. It takes a lot for you to cry, yet the searing pain from his rough touch is enough to wet your eyelashes. You feel the stinging in your eyes, and as much as you don’t want to break down, you can’t keep the tears at bay.

So you cry.

Embarrassment ignites your cheeks as you feel the droplets wet your cheeks. The tears pool in the arch where his index finger and thumb connect, but it doesn’t repulse him away from you. Instead, it seems to pique his interest as he loosens his grip, allowing the salty droplets to roll down your skin.

Then he smears the liquid across your skin.

Time stands still in that moment. The screaming around you fades into nothing, replaced by the pounding of your heart inside your ears.

Adam was very much looking forward to this year’s extermination.

His self-pity and feelings of loneliness have flared up these days, and not even a quick fuck with a beautiful winner did it for him anymore. So what better way to rid himself of misery than by glutting his soul with merciless slaughter?

Adam was a hunter all his life. At a time when the earth was bare and there was little to entertain himself with other than the pleasures of the flesh, chasing wildlife was as much a means to get food as it was a source of entertainment.

And habits are difficult to quit.

Zoomorphic amalgamations replaced wild animals in the afterlife—both more or less the same, but admittedly, humans warped by sin were much more fun to hunt and butcher because of their human-like cognition. They were the ultimate prey.

As soon as Adam descended from Heaven, he swung his axe, slicing through the first deformed sinner with little thought or care put towards the action. He needed to get it out of his system, and fast.

Then why wasn’t he feeling better?

Deep down he knew that he really needed to talk to someone. His reflection in the mirror wasn’t cutting it anymore after millennia. But he could not trust anyone enough to open up. Who could fault him for that? Every time he dared to open his heart, he got played.

He would never repeat the same mistake.

But then the sinner crumbled to the ground, revealing you.

Adam was taken aback at first. You didn’t look the part.

And that made him livid. Was his mind messing with him?

He felt the anger boiling in his veins as he kicked you to the ground. Feeling the impact against his foot when it collided with your body, hearing your bones crack, and smelling your blood only reiterated that he was not hallucinating. You were real.

And on top of everything—you wished for death.

Who, or more precisely, what, were you?

He watched you struggle in his grasp like a fish that he plucked out of water with his bare hands.

When he saw those tears rolling down your cheeks, he couldn’t help but feel that surge of authority flow through him. That’s how you were supposed to look from the very first second of you two crossing paths—trembling, crying, and pleading to spare your life. Now you weren’t so brave, shaking like the last yellow leaf, barely holding up against the autumn wind. Pathetic.

But as the first teardrop finally travelled the short distance from your eyes towards the sharp edge of your jaw and unceremoniously fell between you two, the damned ground let out a hiss as if sprayed with holy water, leaving Adam to stand there wide-eyed. No, it couldn’t be—

His wet thumb glided across your cheek with precision as, with each stroke, he hoped to remove more and more makeup, but all he did was knead the dewy skin.

The angel’s face glitches, and that’s when he suddenly lets go of you, allowing you to free fall back to the ground.

"Okay, listen, here’s the deal. I hate giving sinners what they want, and death, well, it’s usually not their kink. But! I’m feeling generous and seeing how embarrassingly desperate you are—I have one condition." His voice takes a different tone, leaving you noticeably confused at the suddenness. "Listen to me vent, and I will slit your throat at the end."

On the ground, you prop yourself up on your elbows and look at him with your jaw slack. Splayed out with your legs bent at the knees, you stare at Adam unblinking.

After a moment of silence, you hide your face in your palm and mumble to yourself. "I really hit my head hard..."

"Whore," he warns, and your head snaps in his direction. You tug on the lapels of your robe, which, after everything that happened, barely covered your breasts, defiantly crossing your legs with furrowed eyebrows. "I will put a mark on you so no exorcist’s blade would ever touch your suicidal ass, and then you will spend the rest of your miserable existence—"

You contort your face into a forced smile.

"I will do it."

#hazbin hotel #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x reader

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heavenlyraindrops · 1 year ago

Text

♱Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Two♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Two Warnings: profanity How to find the other chapters in my pinned post

♱ In which the purest soul in Heaven falls from grace… for the Devil. ♱

[Chapter Two]

“[name]!”

You turned your head, before seeing Emily racing towards you to tackle you to the ground in a hug. You laughed, although it came out as more of a wheeze under her crushing grip, and hugged back. She raised her head, eyes watery.

“Adam said you disappeared,” she said, and the barely restrained fury at him was evident in her voice, which dropped to an incredulous whisper. “Where were you? What happened? Sera’s mad as hell-“

“He didn’t leave me,” you managed to crack a reassuring smile, and Emily’s shoulders drooped at your next words, “I flew off.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he neglected his responsibility. And, frankly, ignored my direct orders to keep you safe.”

You raised your head to see Sera, her forehead creased in a stressed frown. “Come with me to my office.” She began to turn, then paused, eyebrows pulling right down, deepening her frown. “Is that blood on your clothes?”

You glanced down. The dark patches seemed to be covered with a thin gilded sheen. “I-it’s nothing, really,” you babbled, scrambling to wipe it off, only to see most of it had dried.

Sera didn’t seem convinced.

Emily pulled you up before you followed them hesitantly, the confusion on her face at the situation evident, even though she was smiling at you nervously. You gulped.

Charming.

♱♱♱

“So, to be clear, you let [name] fly off and put herself in harm's way even though she has no experience as an exterminator?” Sera turned from Adam to you. “[name], this is only a one time thing. You are most certainly not accompanying the exterminators down to Hell next year. After Adam has proven how neglectful he is-“

“No,” you gasped, the words flying out your mouth without you even thinking about them.

The entire room seemed to freeze.

Awkwardly, you cleared your throat and continued, more gently. “No, it wasn’t his fault. See, what happened was-“ you glanced over at where Adam was seated next to you. He raised an eyebrow, face flat, and you swallowed. Your throat felt like a desert.

“I flew off,” you continued. “He went after me, I mean, he really tried I swear. But I shook him off and ended up tearing my wing on a branch, hence the blood- he found me a while later and healed me up. The wound wasn’t too serious. It only broke some skin, and- and, I could still fly. We just lost each other in the crowd going back up to the Pentagram is all.”

What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? You could almost feel the beads of sweat forming on your brow as you smiled at her stiffly.

Sera turned and looked at Adam, waiting for his confirmation. He looked over at you, grinning wide. You pointedly stared back, which wasn’t necessary- he didn’t miss a beat. “Yup. That’s what happened. I was tryna tell ya the whole time and you guys just weren’t listening.”

“Please let me go next year, Sera,” you pleaded, eyes widening. She chewed her lip, contemplating, as you continued. “I was perfectly fine. And I may not be an experienced exterminator, but you know more than well enough I can hold my own against a couple of mere sinners.” You shot a look at Adam.

”Yeah, [name]’s powerful as fuck-“

“I wouldn’t say powerful-“ you began, but was cut off by Sera.

“You’re far too modest, [name],” Sera smiled at you tiredly. “And what you said seems to add up. I know you’d never lie to me-“ she side-eyed Adam, who didn’t notice, continuing to pick at his nails. “-Or to anyone, for that matter. Yes, you may go again next year if you wish.”

You looked at the ground. “Thank you, Sera,” you said, your own voice ringing small in your ears.

♱♱♱

“Jeez, sugartits, I didn’t think I’ve ever heard you lie before,” Adam smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You glared at him in fury, before jabbing a finger at his chest. You were both in a hallway, Sera’s office door at the end of the corridor where you had come from.

“Watch it, Adam,” you hissed, then took a deep breath, calming yourself down. “I did it for you, so be grateful.”

“…thanks.”

You smiled at him. “No problem.”

You both stared at each other for a few moments, before Adam spoke.

“Are we gonna fuck right now?”

“No!” You hissed, exasperated, feeling your face burn. “No, we are not. Here’s what is gonna happen, Adam. Next extermination, you’re gonna let me fly off by myself, mind your own business, and not tell Sera, and if you don’t do that, I’ll blab and tell them everything. And then they’ll hate you forever.”

He stared at you for a second, blankly. You gulped, your blood pounding in your ears. Crap. Dumb idea-

Adam finally raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to go off sneaking around Hell during the extermination, sugartits? Got a secret?”

“Most certainly not,” you snapped. “I simply want to explore Hell alone.”

Adam stared at you for a moment. “You never say what’s on your fuckin’ mind, do ya, sugartits? You always gotta water it down to be nice. If I annoy the shit outta you, just say that.”

Your gaze softened, then you shook your head and stared at your feet. “I’m not a mean person.”

“Not mean if it’s the truth.” He shrugged. You looked back up at him. He was wearing that familiar, shit-eating grin again. You huffed and rolled your eyes, kicking at the pristine floor.

“Sure. Well, some people have a filter.”

“Meh. Whatever.”

“So, will you do what I asked you to do?”

Yeah, I’ll do what you want.”

“Wait really?” You stared at him.

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck. Do what you want, you saved my ass from a three hour lecture back in there anyways.”

You watched him walk away until he rounded a corner and disappeared, shocked at his nonchalance, and then pressed your back to the wall and sank down, head in your hands.

Did you seriously lie to the Seraphim just to be able to go back to Hell next year? Why? Why?

Was it because of- no way. Don’t be ridiculous. You knew Lucifer had the quality of being ‘tempting’, from what the Bible said, at least, but there was no way you were being led to temptation from a small interaction with absolutely no ‘tempting’ aspects to it. Whatsoever.

Hell is a nice break from Heaven. And it’s interesting to see what it’s like. I’m just curious is all…

You stared at your hands, mind flashing back to something Sera had said a while ago.

Curiosity killed the cat.

“[name]?”

You looked up. Sera was staring down at you. “Are you alright?”

You cursed internally, your heart almost leaping out of your throat. “Yes, Sera, I’m just… thinking.”

“Perhaps I could help?”

You studied her face. It was wearing the specific, reserved look she wore for when she was suspicious but didn’t want to show it. You smiled and shook your head.

“I’m just trying to figure out what I ate this morning that could make my stomach hurt this much.”

Sera’s face relaxed, nodding. You knew that she wouldn’t believe that you’d lie to her. You knew it would be easy to squash her suspicions.

“Well,” Sera said, “Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded smiled weakly again, watching her steady, deliberate steps as she disappeared around the corner, then hung your head again, sighing.

You prayed you weren’t digging yourself into a hole.

♱♱♱

A/N: Stay Tuned!

Taglist: @boredlime, @ica1, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter, @lucky-flowey,@kitty-kei, @thornwolfy235, @w31rd3rg1rl, @marxo5, @lvstyangel

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callmeagardengnome · 1 year ago

Text

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 5

w.c - 3.9k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x demon! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

cw: foul and intense language. other than that it should be fine :)

not proofread!

previous / next

masterlist

“Wake up, Walker.” Seonghwa snarled, bringing you back to reality.

You blinked repeatedly, realising that you fell asleep in the meeting room. You had gotten there earlier than you’d like which led you to take a short nap.

Hongjoong sat at the head of the table with Seonghwa next to him, looking at you in disgust. Mingi sat across you, leaning back in his chair casually while Yunho sat with a serious demeanour, tapping his fingers lightly on the table.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered, slightly embarrassed. “It won’t happen again.”

Hongjoong cleared his throat, drawing the attention to himself. “Now that everyone is awake, let’s start. We need to finalize our plans for the Hala extermination.”

You felt a chill go down your spine at the term ‘extermination’. You struggled to keep a neutral face as you thought about the potential destruction.

Yunho leaned forward, his voice calm but authoritative. “I’ve reviewed the records that Ms ‘____’ gave me and drafted out a map with all the Hala’s houses marked out.”

“Good,” Hongjoong smirked. “We need to ensure every detail is accounted for. The operation must be flawless.”

“That means that any deviation from the plan would not be tolerated,” Seonghwa said, his intense gaze locked on you. “Make sure to stay in your lane, Walker.”

You rolled your eyes. “Understood.”

Yunho glanced at you, smiling. “You’ve done well so far. Now, everything has to go smoothly.”

“We will set off the explosives in three days,” Hongjoong announced. “But we need to ensure that the demons planting them are discreet.”

Your pulse raced as you listened. “How do you plan on doing that?”

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed. “We have our methods. All you have to do is remain silent.” You snorted, the feeling of annoyance evident on your face.

“We will deal with any complications if they arise,” Hongjoong sighed. “Our priority is the execution of this plan.”

Mingi nodded, his face troubled. “I’ll make sure the troops are prepared.”

You felt your anxiety spike. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Just cooperation.” Seonghwa studied you. “We wouldn’t want any… unexpected issues.”

You met his gaze. “Of course, I want the plan to be a success.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, each demon lost in their own thoughts about the plan. You could feel your lies pressing down on you, reminding you of what was at stake.

“Very well,” Hongjoong broke the silence. “Let’s proceed with our preparations. We cannot afford any mistakes.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

As you walked back to your room, your mind started to race with what had been discussed earlier. You needed to tell the Halas that the explosion would be soon- but how?

You noticed a pile of boxes outside of your room, labeled: ‘RECEPTIONIST’ in a bright red. You sighed deeply, you forgot that you still haven’t unpacked your things yet.

Entering your room, you started to unpack your items. You carefully placed your clothes into the large wardrobe and decorated the room with fake plants that you had.

By the time you were done, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow in the room. You sat on the edge of your bed, feeling worried. While the Halas knew that there were explosives, they didn’t know when it would set off. You had to find a way to talk to them.

You stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. You figured that it would be good to familiarise yourself with the Palace. After all, memorising the layout of the Palace could be useful in the future. You also felt like it would be a good way to clear your head with everything that’s been going on.

You wandered the corridors, taking in all the details around you. The walls had intricate gold carvings imbedded in them, showcasing different drawings of demons. There were also crystal chandeliers, ones that only emitted a faded light.

As you looked around, you stumbled into a familiar Eternal. He stopped abruptly, surprise flashing across his face before his expression softened.

“Receptionist,” Mingi greeted, his tone slightly confused. “What are you doing here?”

“Exploring the Palace. Just trying to get a feel of the place, you know?” you replied as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

Mingi’s eyes flickered over you as if he was gauging your truthfulness. “It’s easy to get lost around here. All the hallways look the same.”

“Right?” you agreed. “What are you doing?”

“Patrolling,” Mingi sighed. “With everything that’s going on, the King made more demons patrol the Palace.”

“Uhuh..” you nodded awkwardly. “Is it fun..?”

Mingi leaned on the wall, glancing around the hallway. “It’s boring.” A silence fell between the two of you, stretching on as he seemed lost in thought.

You shifted uncomfortably, waiting for him to go on, but no words were spoken. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed, his face becoming more obviously frustrated.

Finally, he groaned and broke the silence. “I didn’t train my ass off to end up patrolling the Palace for hours.” Mingi said bitterly as he ran his fingers through his hair. “And for some reason, I’m assigned to babysit you.”

“Am I that shitty to be around?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

His dark eyes scanned you. “I didn’t say that, but take it how you will.”

You leaned on the same wall as him. “I swear I’m usually more fun to be around. Just not during a revolt.”

“Sure,” Mingi replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just annoyed that way more demons are patrolling the Palace than needed. I’d rather be doing something that actually matters.”

You mumbled to yourself, “You’re not the only one.”

“What did you say?” Mingi’s expression shifted slightly.

“Nothing,” you covered up quickly, changing the subject. “Have you tried changing your task?”

“I’m not in a position to argue with the King or Duke,” Mingi shrugged. “Orders are orders.”

You nodded slowly. “So you’re just going along with whatever they say?”

“Yeah,” Mingi confirmed, his voice tinged with resignation and exhaustion.

“Right..” you trailed off. You finally found an opportunity - a way to sway an Eternal. The slightest chance of him being unhappy with the whole situation could be life-changing. “Can I ask you something?”

Mingi looked at you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why? What do you mean why?” You looked at him in confusion.

Mingi arched an eyebrow, his expression guarded. “I mean, this is the longest I’ve ever talked to you. You can’t blame me for being cautious.”

“You just said that you were bored. Since you’re stuck with me, might as well make it interesting.”

He paused, mulling over your response. “Okay,” Mingi said. “What do you want to ask?”

You hesitated for a moment. “How do you feel about the whole.. revolt thing?”

Mingi pushed himself off the wall, glancing around the hallway again. He made sure that there was no one around before leaning back on the wall once more. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious. I want to hear our beloved General’s opinion,” you said, grinning.

“And I’m not snitching if that’s what you’re worried about,” you continued, your expression turning serious. “Who would I even tell- the Duke? He hates my guts.”

“That’s true,” he chuckled softly. Mingi’s laughter faded as he studied you carefully. “I feel… conflicted.”

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. Mingi leaned closer to you, lowering his voice.

“I’ve never cared about the Halas- I actually hated the fact that they were revolting,” he admitted. “But the way we Eternals handled it was.. disturbing. First, the massacre, and now there’s explosives? There’s other ways to deal with those pests.”

“If you don’t like what they’re doing then why stay on their side?” you asked.

You knew that Mingi held a great amount of loyalty and respect towards the Eternals - which meant that you needed to play your cards right. You needed to get to the bottom of how Mingi felt about the whole situation. If you managed to persuade him, a General, it would help the Halas significantly.

Mingi had just begun to reveal his doubts towards the Eternals. However, pushing him too hard could close off any chance of working together. The both of you stood in silence, your question hanging in the air.

“The Hala’s aren’t that great either. They’re violent to everyone. They shouldn’t even be considered demons at this point.” He sighed. “At least helping the Eternals has benefits. I mean- I get to live in the Palace and I’m protected. I don’t want that taken away.”

“But do you think that the explosives plan is right?” you pressed.

Mingi looked away. “It’s not my place to question the King’s orders.”

“And it’s your place to murder innocent demons?” you asked, your voice being more harsh than you expected.

A quiet tension settled between the two of you. You could see the worry in his face, even if he tried to hide it.

Mingi turned back to you, his eyes hardening. Without warning, he grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer. “It’s not that simple, Walker,” he hissed. “Going against the King would kill me.”

You met his stare. “You think you’re the only one at risk of getting killed? What about the Halas?”

“You think I enjoy this?” Mingi’s grip tightened, his eyes burning with frustration. “We’re not that different, Receptionist. I’m doing what I can to survive.”

His jaw clenched as he continued. “You don’t understand the position I’m in.”

“I understand more than you’d think,” you countered. “But that doesn’t justify taking lives.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed, his voice becoming defensive. “Are you even on our side?” Mingi accused, searching your eyes for answers. “Why would you join us if you hate the things we do?”

You scoffed, “Who are you to judge?”

Mingi’s grip on your shirt loosened slightly as he took in your words. The two of you were locked into a fierce stare, both refusing to look away first. You could feel the anger bubbling within him, making you nervous. Did you overstep? Did you go too far? Did you mess up? These questions raced through your mind, almost missing his intense gaze softening.

“I just don’t get you,” he muttered. “Why choose to join us now?”

You let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t really have a choice,” you started. “But I had to find a way to help the Halas from the inside.”

Mingi released you, the grip on your shirt loosening completely. “You’re risking your life for them..” he said in disbelief.

“I am,” you confirmed. “And I need your help- think of all the lives we can save.”

“Saving Halas?” He frowned, his mind wrestling with his decision. “We’ll be going against the King and the whole Eternals..” he groaned.

You looked at Mingi’s stressed state - he wasn’t even focused in patrolling anymore. You understood the dilemma he was in, after all you were in his position a few days ago. Somehow, his decision felt a lot more serious than yours.

“Not all Hala’s are bad,” you reassured him, hoping that it would sway him. “They can be really friendly, I promise.”

Mingi ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply. “Fine,” he said finally, reluctance clear in his voice. “I’ll help you. But if anything goes wrong, you’ll be the first one I blame.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

The next few hours passed by in a blur. You didn’t expect that amount of honesty, especially from an Eternal. You weren’t complaining though, having Mingi’s help could make a huge difference in the revolt.

Having a General’s help meant that you had strength on your side. It also meant that you had a powerful ally that could sway other Eternals to join you. But of course, you shouldn’t be too hasty.

You sat near the side entrance of the Palace, watching the large grandfather clock tick away the minutes. It was nearing midnight which meant one thing, Mingi’s patrol shift was ending.

You managed to convince him to bring you outside the Palace and find your Hala friends - a necessary part in your plan as you weren’t supposed to leave the Palace unattended.

A hooded figure approached you, moving swiftly. “You ready?” you heard Mingi’s voice coming from within the cloak he was wearing.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah.. what’s up with the outfit though?

“Eternals don’t really have a good rep right now,” he reminded. “I’d rather not get attacked by showing my horns.”

“Fair enough,” you replied, walking over to the door. “We should get moving.”

The walk to the Market was tense and quiet. You weren’t too sure of where Wooyoung or his friends were, but the Market would be a good place to start. The Market was always filled with a mix of Halas and Walkers, making it an ideal place to search for demons. It became popular due to its variety of products and its mostly reasonable prices.

You and Mingi squeezed through the demons, the chaotic atmosphere making your stomach churn. “Don’t get lost,” Mingi said, reaching out for your hand.

His grip on your hand was firm yet reassuring, making you feel less anxious moving through the crowded Market. As you continued to walk, you couldn’t help but notice how Mingi stayed very close to you, almost acting like a shield.

“Do you think it would be better to split up?” you suggested, getting tired of walking around for ages.

“Huh?” Mingi stopped walking and turned to you almost instantly. “What if you get lost? How am I supposed to find you in this place?”

“True- but I think I can find you pretty easily. You’re basically towering everyone here,” you pointed out, a faint smile appearing on your lips.

“Still, it’s so crowded..” he trailed off, the grip on your hand tightening briefly. “I don’t like it, but it would be faster..”

“Exactly. Let’s meet back here in an hour,” you said, making a sound of agreement. “Do you still remember the photos I showed you?”

The hard drive you took from the office did not only contain the address of the demons in Hell, it also had photos of each and everyone one of them. You sifted out the four Halas that you knew and showed them to Mingi right before the two of you left.

Mingi nodded hesitantly, slowly letting go of your hand. “Just be careful,” Mingi said. “I’m responsible for whatever happens to you.“

He reluctantly went in the opposite direction you were going in. The Market was filled with the noise of demons shouting and haggling. You struggled to move through the crowd, scanning the faces of the demons for any signs of your friends.

Navigating the streets, you started to feel nervous. You understood what Mingi meant when he said that splitting up was risky, but at this point, you couldn’t turn back.

After what felt like an eternity of searching, you slowed down your pace, feeling exhausted. Someone bumped into you, pushing your shoulder with a force that made it ache slightly. “Watch it-“ the demon started, but then stopped abruptly. “Receptionist?”

You looked up and met the familiar eyes of a Hala. “Wooyoung,” you breathed out, relief washing over you.

“Thank the Fires,” Wooyoung said, pulling you into a brief, tight hug. “What are you doing here? We’ve been worried sick.”

“I was looking for you,” you replied quickly. “We need to talk- urgently.”

Wooyoung glanced around, his expression turning concerned. “It’s not safe to talk here. We should find somewhere quieter.”

You nodded, scanning the crowd for Mingi. “Mhm.. but I need to find someone. You’re going to want to meet him, he’s pretty important.”

“He?” He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “I thought I was the only demon-man in your life,” he said while pouting.

“Shut up, Wooyoung. You literally introduced me to your friends,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Seriously, we need to find him. He’s going to be very helpful to us.”

Wooyoung crossed his arms, pretending to feel hurt. “But Receptionist.. tell me who’s this mystery man stealing my spotlight.”

“No one’s stealing anything,” you rolled your eyes. You glanced around the crowded Market, spotting a tall hooded figure in the distance. “There he is. Come on.”

Wooyoung followed you, muttering under his breath. “He better not be funnier than me.”

After several minutes of forcing yourselves through the demons, you saw that Mingi was near a stall, his hood hanging low, covering his face.

“Gener- Mingi!” you called out, waving to get his attention. You remembered that the Eternals, especially the military demons, weren’t necessarily liked around these parts. After all, they were all seen as murderers.

Mingi turned, his stiff posture visibly relaxing when he saw you. He made his way over to the two of you. Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed on Mingi, his eyes filled with suspicion.

“Mingi, this is Wooyoung,” you introduced. “You remember his face from the photo I showed you, right?”

“Photo? What photo?” Wooyoung echoed, sounding confused. “Receptionist, I didn’t know you kept photos of me.”

“It’s for my job, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes.

“Let’s move somewhere else,” Mingi suggested, his voice low. “Do you know any quiet places?” he asked as he turned to Wooyoung.

“Where’s the ‘hi’ or ‘hello’?” Wooyoung remarked, you nudging him harshly in the process. “Receptionist, I didn’t know you made friends with a rude demon.”

Mingi sighed. “Hi, Wooyoung. I’m Mingi. Nice to meet you,” he said, his voice laced with irritation.

“Better,” Wooyoung smirked. “Let’s see if you’re as ‘helpful’ as ‘____’ says. Follow me.”

The three of you left the bustling Market, the noises fading as Wooyoung led you through the narrow alleyways. Finally, you arrived at a secluded, run-down building. It was much quieter than the busy Market earlier.

“What is this place?” you asked, looking at the building in shock. “I don’t remember seeing this.. a building this big should be registered authorities.”

“Jongho found it,” Wooyoung bragged, standing proudly. “He wanted to find a safe place to stay at after the uh.. explosives news.”

Mingi surveyed the area. “It looks like an old government building,” he said. “It’s basically ancient.”

“Yeah, you guys are lucky because this is completely off the grid,” you added, taking in your surroundings.

Wooyoung led the two of you inside, stepping over the debris scattered across the floor. “We’ve been using this place as a temporary ‘home’,” he explained. “It’s not much but it’s safe.”

You nodded, seeing the shabby yet surprisingly organised space. There were healthcare supplies stacked on the side of the wall and a few makeshift beds and mattresses arranged in the corner.

The two of you found a cleaner corner to settled down. Mingi followed behind, removing his hood.

“So Receptionist, what did you want to talk abo- what the fuck,” Wooyoung snarled when he saw Mingi’s purple horns. Wooyoung grabbed a knife that he had tied to his shoe and lunged forward.

Wooyoung shoved Mingi to a wall, the knife scarily close to Mingi’s face. Wooyoung used all of his strength to press Mingi into the wall, Mingi’s muscular build making it difficult for him.

Mingi’s eyes widened in surprise and raised his hands instinctively to defend himself. “Wait- Wooyoung stop!” you shouted, stepping forward and grabbing Wooyoung’s arm. “He’s with us, don’t do stupid shit,” you seethed.

Wooyoung grunted, maintaining his hold on Mingi, who looked confused during the entire interaction. “Receptionist, explain why an Eternal in front of me?”

“He’s here to help us,” you said urgently.

“Help?” Wooyoung repeated. “‘____’, This Eternal was at the massacre, leading his demon clique to kill thousands of us.”

“Demon clique? That’s low, show some respect to my troops.” Mingi scoffed.

“Not even denying the killing part? Where are your priorities?” Wooyoung exclaimed.

While you knew that Mingi was involved in the execution of certain plans, it completely slipped your mind that he was the frontrunner of the massacre. The idea of him killing innocent demons sent a shiver down your spine. However, you needed to quickly compose yourself before anyone started to get hurt.

You pulled on Wooyoung’s arm. “We don’t have time, Wooyoung. Let’s talk this out peacefully.”

Wooyoung’s face twisted with effort as he continued to push the knife closer to Mingi. “You brought the epitome of evil into my home, ‘____’. You should be glad he isn’t dead on the floor right now,” Wooyoung hissed.

“What happened to Hala’s being friendly?” Mingi said, making eye contact with you. “I’m starting to change my mind about the whole thing.”

“I’m friendly to friends, not murderers,” Wooyoung shot back, his grip on the knife tightening.

You took a deep breath, stepping closer. “Wooyoung, please trust me on this. We’re in the middle of a revolt. We shouldn’t be fighting each other- Mingi wants to make things right.”

“It could be a trap,” Wooyoung spat out. “This bastard isn’t sorry about what he did.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “Why should I apologise?” he questioned. “I’m only here to stop it from happening again.”

Wooyoung snorted, unconvinced. “You still did it. How do you go to bed at night, knowing you killed thousands of demons?”

You felt your blood boil as Wooyoung’s words came out of his mouth. Sure, you sided with him, but it still irked you that Wooyoung couldn’t see past his anger. Without thinking, you kicked Wooyoung’s leg hard enough to make him lose balance.

He fell back, his knife dropping onto the ground with a clang. “What the Hell, ‘____’?” he shouted, glaring at you in shock.

“Enough, Wooyoung. You’re not listening to me,” you snapped. “The both of us are risking our lives trying to save your faction. The least you could do is trust me and my choices.”

“Oh I trust you,” Wooyoung’s eyes shifted from you to Mingi. “Just not him.”

“Then let’s have a civil chat,” you pleaded, gesturing the two demons to the corner where you were at earlier.

Mingi and Wooyoung exchanged a look before reluctantly following you. The air was charged with unresolved tension, but you didn’t care as long as the fight stopped.

Once you all settled, you took a deep breath and began. “Now, the both of you need to trust each other, whether you like it or not. Everyone’s lives are at stake, we shouldn’t be doing this petty shit.”

“I get it,” Mingi said, straightening his back and brushing off his clothes. “He has the right to be angry- I did kill a lot of his demons.”

“Yeah, that you’re not sorry for apparently,” Wooyoung scoffed.

“I don’t need your forgiveness,” Mingi uttered, sounding angry. “We should focus on stopping the Royals and their plans. We can deal with personal grudges, or ‘petty shit’, after.”

Wooyoung’s glare softened slightly. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if I see any signs of you betraying us, I’m going to kill you and feed your flesh to a family of Hala’s-”

“-Okay.. let’s move on,” you interrupted, stopping Wooyoung from continuing. “We don’t have time for threats. We need to start planning on how to save demons.”

author's note: i hope yall enjoyed this ;-; it took a while but i hope this was entertaining.. FOR YALLZ WHO ARE WAITING FOR THE ROMANCE, please be patient. i like to write slowww burns so romance will be coming up soon. remember to like and repost my chapters if you like them! any and all feedback is much appreciated <3

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