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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 3 months

Note

Another Vox enthusiasts I see? Well if I may...

Vox with a GN Hacker reader who was turned entirely digital after manifesting in hell. They don’t even have a physical form they’re completely stuck within Hell’s databases, their skills are obviously useful to him so he offers them a place on the team which they immediately accept on the condition that Vox makes them a vessel to inhabit because holy shit are they going stir crazy.

I’m not entirely sure how Vox’s abilities work but given he can at the very least project himself onto screens and the like I get the feeling that he’d plug himself into the system whenever they talk. Mostly because it keeps them grounded, they’re alot calmer when he’s actually next to them and not looking in through a screen.

I hope this didn’t get too wordy or long I just wanted to be thorough because I have massive brain rot for this techno mf-

Take your time with this request! Kisses darling <3

-📽

Dude, does anyone else remember having Shimeji's or that internet episode from Fairly Odd Parents? Cause that's what I'm about to write!

Digital Pet [Vox x Digital Reader]

When you first manifested in Hell, you were completely unaware that you had ended up in Hell itself. Because instead of manifesting in the overcrowded circle designated for sinners, you instead found yourself in a digital landscape. Countless screens surrounded you like a million portals. You could see the different shapes and sizes of the devices being used in hell and could even alter whether or not you saw what was being displayed on the screen or what the screen could see itself like a window to Hell.

At first, you had a massive meltdown. From what you could tell, you were the only one in this digital Hell custom-tailored to leave you isolated despite having access to every device in Hell. You wondered what you did to deserve the extra punishment layered on top of not being good enough for heaven, especially since you hadn't done anything particularly evil when you were alive.

You lost track of how much time passed. You entertained yourself by jumping from system to system. You'd watch shows that sinners binged, and you'd watch the city from large advertisement screens that overlooked the sinner's circle of Hell. Anything to stave off the loneliness.

One day, that all changed when you felt an electric buzz make the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You heard the voice of someone swearing and immediately pulled yourself away from the screen you had been sticking your nose into. When you turned, you saw another demon who was still sparking with some bright electric energy as he dusted himself off.

For a moment the two of you just stared at each other in shock. As far as you and Vox knew, you were the only ones who could access the digital realm of Hell's database. Vox is immediately wary, but you are thrilled as you approach him quickly.

"H-Hi, oh my god!" you breathe as you look him over. He didn't look new to Hell, but you had never seen anyone else in the same pocket of space as you before. "Did you just die? Have you seen anyone else? Did you just get here? It's been so long since I saw another person that wasn't on a screen!"

Vox blinked as you rapid-fired questions at him. He looked you over as you rambled something about the irony of his face being a screen when he finally shook his head and held up a hand to stop you.

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down," he started. "What are you talking about? How are you even here? No one else should be able to traverse through the database of Hell but me."

Vox's interest only grows as you explain your situation. "I see," he hummed as he looked you over with new intrigue. "I wonder if you have similar abilities to mine and just got caught in the in-between..."

It was easy enough for him to lure you into a deal. The sheer amount of panic you expressed when he pretended he was going to just leave you there was hilarious at the time. In exchange for you "surfing the web" for him, so to speak, he took you on as an apprentice of sorts. Vox trained your abilities and helped you hone your magic. While you had every hope of one day figuring out how to manifest in the physical realm the way he did, Vox cleverly avoided any pursuit of the possibility.

He liked having full power over you and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't starting to grow attached. While you hadn't learned anything about manifesting physically, you had learned how to appear on his screens. He'd never admit it to you out loud, but he found the tiny image of you running around on his devices and talking with him to be pretty damn adorable.

Despite his manipulation, the two of you actually slowly became friends. He found himself genuinely proud of you whenever you popped up to show him something new you had learned. There was a weird warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when you would bounce with excitement at your new discoveries.

Sometimes you'd ask him to play a certain show or song for you. Even after you learned how to control inactive devices so you could look up anything you wanted, you still liked to ask him to play things for you just so you could watch them in his presence. You'd send memes to each other and Vox had to quickly excuse himself when you sent him a crudely drawn image of Alastor slipping on a banana peel while he was in the middle of giving a presentation at a meeting.

Vox was emotionally constipated, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that the warm feeling in his chest was growing and he knew you were the source. He clutched his chest as he stepped into his lair and saw you sleeping on his desktop toolbar, waiting for him to come home after a long day at work. He had promised you that you'd watch the new episode of a show you'd been watching together, but his gameshow had run late.

He sits down with a sigh and traces over your sleeping form, feeling something twist inside of him as his claw only met with the cold, flat surface of a screen. He wondered what it would be like to hold you. To touch you. To have you in his arms while the two of you lay on the couch while you made him watch stupid shows instead of...

"Fuck," Vox whispered to himself as he pulled away from the innocent image of you. He clutched his face as he slumped forward in his chair. He had a decision to make.

And so do you, dear readers! I want to make a part two to this, the real question is:

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

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littlespace-imagines · 1 year

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Imagine Monster Daddies >_>

(Super short blurbs, Cg!Monster x little!reader)

A Vampire daddy who loves lulling his little one to sleep because he adores watching them and holding them close.

A Orc Daddy who loves nothing more than having his little one held close.

A werewolf Daddy who’s heart melts everytime his little loves seeing his wolf form.

A Demon Daddy using his powers to give his little one the best dreams ever.

I’ve fr had so much monster brain rot lately… I’ve been making some OCs for some fanfiction >_> feel free to add more :)

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cosmicstarlatte · 6 months

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bruh your blog is like my favorite blog now ❤︎ will forever be sliding into your asks alskskdhd

so i was thinking … about pervert monster diavolo …

i saw a post about a pervert!lucifer headcanon and an mc who got stuck in a wall and …

now my brain is rotting with the idea of monster diavolo finding mc stuck somehow and just going to town

i promise i’m so normal

Moody forgive me I didn't realize this was sitting in drafts nearly finished the whole time *ripping my hair out*

nsfw 18+ minors do not interact // ⚠️dubcon, diavolo x f!reader, called little terror & pumpkin, creampie, not really proofread tbh *runs away*

diavolo hummed from above while you wiggled around under his bed, ass sticking out & looking delectable.

"what do we have here? my little terror appears to be stuck... were you trying to scare me perhaps?" he murmured, patting your bottom while you continued to wiggle your hips around helplessly.

"yeah i'm stuck can you get me out!?" you cried out from under.

diavolo just chuckled as he continued to pat & rub your bottom before kneeling down behind you, shifting into his demon form. can you blame him? he wants nothing more but to mount you with the way you are right now.

"ah? is that so?" perfectly manicured black claws swiftly pulled down your pants, underwear along with it. he dug his claws into the fat of your ass & admired the puffy mound between your legs. "i'll get you out in a little bit pumpkin. you know i can't resist that pretty little cunt."

"dia!" you moaned as you felt his slick long tongue make quick work, lapping at your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit. "dia, please-"

you whined & couldn't help but rub your cunt against his tongue, almost forgetting where you were.

you heard the soft ruffling of cloth & clinking jewelry, gasping when you felt the fat tip of his demon cock gently prod between your slick folds.

"I'll get you out of there right after this,"He gripped your hips and buried his cock into your warm cunt. Each ridge and bump of his cock rubbing into you.

"Fuck." He gritted his teeth & pulled his hips back before slamming back into you. "Hah, this human cunt was made just for me wasn't it?"

He thrusted harder into you, "taking my demon cock so well-"

You whined as he bullied his fat cock into you, stretching you out. You cried out as his tapered tip started hitting that heavenly spot.

"dia! gonna c-cum- "

With a swift movement he lifted the bed enough with one arm and pulled you out with the other while remaining on his cock. He lifted you up with ease, continuining to fuck mercilessly into you, your back pressed against his chest.

With just a few more thrusts you finally came, the two of you moaned as your cunt clenched around him and milked his cock of every precious drop he had.

diavolo let out a happy sigh as he plopped the two of you onto his bed, laying you on top of his chest and wrapping an arm and his black gold accented wings around you.

With a free hand he wiped the sweat from your forehead and grinned.

"You know you didn't have to lie about being stuck." ◇

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo smut #obey me diavolo headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x you #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me x reader #✩ — the star: moody!#◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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s-4pphics · 1 month

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moth. (e.w.)

Protected by the Crest. Guarded by light.

𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓛𝓞𝓖𝓤𝓔

SYNOPSIS: knights of the devil, you all are to be conquered.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: vampire!ellie, vampirekiller!oc, a lot to come FUCK, violence… so blood(drinking), death, murder, gore, suicide, religion briefly, cult-ish bindings, ellie's coven is so cunt, mentions of witchcraft, future tags: hypnosis, abducting, crazy smut

teaser.

1927

Dawn. Combat. Nightfall. Rest.

The cycle formed over the last decade has revolutionized you. It is all you know; the only remainder of solace you have in this dastard domain. The older you've grown, the more burials you attend. For strangers, for comrades. For children who have been brutalized and left to rot like swine. All enacted by the Devils that lurk in darkness. Radicalization overcame your senses; first writhed beneath your bones at the age of thirteen when intent to kill the Earth’s torturers flourished within you. Welcomed your stout standing with an offered, sharply angled wood. You have read. You have fought. You have been scarred and beaten bloody by the Overseers; suffered numerous nights of unrest due to the wails of your comrades under their scrutiny.

Another burial, another Overseer. A prime Hunter that controls your underground dominion, trapped trenches below civilization that beam with only candlelight and the creeping rays of the flaming sun.

Protected by the Crest. Guarded by light.

The lines you march alongside your comrades are congruous; heads covered with black hoods, dozens of silver-soled heels echoing against the tunnel walls. Not one Hunter out of place. Gruesome symmetry. The narrow halls of the tunnel spread into a perfect sphere near its end. Hunters due their promotion disperse along the widening space, encircling the flaming Crest in the center of the chamber. Both rows of teeth are inseparable; a dull ache in your jaw.

Your heartbeat is reminiscent of drums. Each step is calculated. A second of delay, and… your brain cannot fathom the consequences.

Rows of comrades enclose and tighten, standing strong before the risen floors where the Overseers inspect their battalion, hoods removed and insignia burning through their black capes. You sneak glances at them despite the rules of a downcast gaze in their presence; no longer than a second. Their years of battle have overtaken their appearance; gray drapes of wool that cascade their shoulders, creases by the eyes and mouth, hands that tremor.

“Rise.”

Necks crane until straightened. Palms raise for the Uncovering, hoods pushed until they lay flat at the peak of spines. The first time your heads have seen the unnatural light of the underground. Your Overseer from your recruitment has been replaced with anew; woman, tall and eyes as kind as a doe, but just as ruthless, just as conniving as he. Her lips spread around her white teeth, somehow more venomous than the ghouls that taunt the lands.

“Welcome to the commencement of our Prodigies.”

Despite you being only three rows from the raised platform, the Overseer sounds miles away. The rushing in your ears; the thumping in your chest is intruding.

“You are all here to be recognized for your efforts. You should be proud of choosing the path of righteousness. Your dedication does not go unnoticed, and today marks the finality of your attainment.”

“We bless you all with our thanks. For this night embarks society’s next generation of Hunters. You have all accepted your duty as a protector. A leader. A virtuous soldier for our Lord.”

“The battle against Demons will be unkind… Many will be lost, but after years of sacrifice, use this night as a celebration of your bravery…”

Silence. Then a seized breath. Faulting from an Overseer is unforeseen.

“It may be your last chance to witness a night of peace… Of unity.”

Her sudden somber timbre jostles your comrades, backs stiffened under their cloaks. Empathy: considered a display of weakness from your leaders.

The winds of the tunnel shifted, aimed to suffocate.

“Live as kings for this last night. Eat, drink… dance if you must. Because come dawn, you will abandon comfort, and return to the higher lands where anguish awaits.”

One overseer, the man closest to the orator, extends a black, velvet pillow to her. A silver chain dangles from her wrinkled hands; a Hunters pendant, bordering a lit flame.

“As the world’s Hunters, you will be honored with our sanctuary’s Crest. This will be your protection against the Lustful… They have demonstrated a great deal of power as they develop… Their spread is alarming… To even us.”

“Do not fall victim to their allure. Their only desire is our demise. Deceit is their only weapon… But it will never compare to the light in your hearts.”

Rumors have spread through the training grounds; ones of Hunters, Overseers, being blinded by their darkest desires. Controlled by the Devil’s knights to turn against each other. Entranced by pleasure, by riches. By immortality. Their desperation of becoming the rulers of society, tyrants of the land, past the seas… Brought them to their end. Many believed they were created to birth disarray — distrust between comrades. You, still, are not sure what to believe.

“… All of your souls are blessed… Even in death.”

Your palm rests over your pounding heart in oath recitation, promising to die for the cause of freedom. For humanity. The remainder of the ceremony hazes as cloaked patrons emerge from the depths of the cave as the Overseers disperse, dressing prideful Hunters with their pendants. They hang perfectly at the center of the sternum, the flames roaring the closer it lays to the heart.

Your eyes do not wither from the ground, even with the silver shoes before you that penetrate the dirt. An Overseer is not often chosen to promote a Hunter, but she — the orator — blesses you. The heft of your pendant weighs heavy on your shoulders. You sigh a breath of relief at the glow behind metal.

“Protected by the Crest. Guarded by light.” You say, dismissing your shock with a hand on your chest.

“Guarded, you are…”

Her declaration is barely a whisper. She pauses, trembling pupils entangled with the glow of your chain, hypnotized by its glimmer.

“Child.”

You remain indifferent at her condemnation, against the gulp from your throat. She inspects your stance with the strength of a stalking lion before vanishing, cape gusting up dryness from below.

“Someone’s special.”

A hushed snark airs from behind you. Made to be a laughingstock for your comrades once again. But you are not 13. All naivety has been torn from your consciousness, and your vacancies are filled with revenge.

The cave, for the first time since your recruitment, is undisciplined. Bass from the celebratory drums. Laughter… Laughter from your comrades, Overseers, patrons you recall from passing as they cheers with the finest wine. Intimidation and constraint are no longer. And still, you take no part in true fellowship. Jollity is forbidden. Leisure is forbidden. Benevolence is forbidden. You, and others amongst —children— were trained to hunt. To slain those who left the world in shatters. A morphed weapon of justice.

A laid hand on your shoulder makes you jolt, left frozen when you're met with the orator from the commencement.

Come, she whispers, and you follow her path through the tunnels of the cave. She retrieves a lantern from the cavity floors and leads you to its corners, deep and untouched. Never once have you seen an Overseer smile, but she is. A pitiful one.

“Why do you worry, Child?”

“I do not worry,” You bite more than needed, “And I am not a child.”

She takes no offense, “Pardon me. Why do you worry, Hunter?” Her tone is mocking, and your blood churns.

One slip of tongue could earn a blade in your chest. You self-soothe with the foggy air expanding in your lungs. Your agitation calms, only briefly.

“I do not worry,” Easier on the ears, “I am believed to be more than prepared—“

“There is no preparation against the Devils.” The hiss of a viper, her mouth turned down in dissatisfaction of your attitude. Your brows pinch.

“Why have you brought me here?”

Her chest rises and falls and her hands interlock.

“Do you know your history, Hunter?”

“It is all I’ve ever known, Master.” You retort with similar irreverence.

“Not the history of the Devils, you imbecile. You. Do you know of your lineage?”

Your head rattles, “Surely not… A-All outside knowledge of history is forbidden. That is all we’ve ever been taught—“

“Shame on your mother for leaving you useless.”

Her slander resonates through the tunnel and your conscience dissolves. The blade you always wield in your sheath presses against the throat of your superior, indented around the aged skin.

“I did not follow you to be defamed,” You rebuke with bared teeth, “Do not speak of my mother.”

“What spirit…” Others would not blink twice at the mention of their family, dead or alive.

“The Devils starve, Child.” She whispers.

“What.”

“They starve… Desperation grows within them as they migrate. They kill anything they can.” Distress grows in her face as she blathers. “Black magic. I have seen its bounds before my eyes. They have tormented and feasted on the blood of your ancestors! The controller of all Devils… She waits to enslave the last of your name—“

“I HAVE NO NAME!”

Why must she lie? Why are you only hearing of this now? She lies. A shout that cracks through the underground.

“Your lineage is most susceptible to the curse! You…”

Tears hang from your lashes before splintering your cheeks. Panic-struck heaves hit your leader’s, her flyways brushing against her nose.

“They’ll torture you, Child.”

Sympathy. Survival. There is no difference.

“What does it matter?” You whisper painfully, and your blade drops to your side, weeps unmasked. “So many have died before me. I-I do—“

“Your mother was one of us.”

Her wails are quiet and urgent.

“Ask… pray for her guidance.”

“Mas—“

The Overseer advantages the weakness of your wrist; snags your blade from between your fingertips and glides the edge across her jugular, maroon coating her hands as she chokes on her own blood, her eyes glazing as she slides down the wall. You holler, knees weakening when her gargling form collapses into your arms. Life drains from her eyes with every exclamation you throw to the Heavens. You shout for help, but the depths are too narrow.

No one comes.

You, by the grace of your Lord, somehow managed to flee the concaves without being spotted by your commune, cloak submerged in blood that is masked by its darkness. Anxiety forged in the pit of your stomach; unable to return to your base for the last peaceful rest, you ran. You cowered. Just when you believed it was out of your nature.

An Overseer committed suicide, and you were the only witness.

You went to your chambers after the accident—warning? — stuffed what you could into your satchel, and escaped the iron gates of your former home. Scaled them like a rabid hyena until your bandaged soles combined with tall greenery. The scene of never-ending land doesn’t ease your nerves, but you sprint until your lungs burn and your legs give out.

Your path is blind, but your end is near.

All fingers point at you.

The greatest form of betrayal.

The lifeblood of the wealthy always curdles: from concealed shame. From ego. From both; It always leaves a sour film over her tongue. Despairing times. The rosewood floors are bathed in red as the last breaths of her victim shake through her bedroom. A beautiful one, she was; dressed in skirts and stockings that ripped at the lightest touch.

Blood drips down from Ellie’s mouth to the collar of her unbuttoned shirt, stains seeping into the crew of her undershirt. Barely any effort was needed to lure them all in. Desperation makes obscenity much sweeter.

A knock erupts from the other side of her door before a sugary utterance echoes, “May I come in?”

Ellie scoffs at the pester.

“You may…” She replies.

The door opens, and she’s met with soft eyes twinkling with brown and burgundy.

Her brow arches, “Not.” She concludes.

The raven-haired girl squints playfully and shuts the door behind her, “Hush, now,” Her strides are strong and assertive, puddles of red soaking the bottom of her heels.

“Quite the mess,” she mutters at the scene with an upturned nose, “It smells.”

“Who am I to complain?”

“The only one that complains,” Her soft hands land on Ellie’s shoulders, and she sighs, taking in the worn appearance of her partner: under eyes darkened and sunk in, dry lips, voice hoarse.

“I bare news.” Dina whispers.

Ellie curls a tweel of black hair around her finger, “Hm?”

Dina leans in close, arms locking around the back of her lover’s neck, lips brushing Ellie’s ear.

“Our little flower is on the loose.”

Ellie’s body locks, and pressure grows in her fangs. “Liar.” She gasps.

“Nuh uh,” A kiss is planted to the corner of her stained mouth, “Word is she’s fled the sanctuary. Searches are apparently ongoing.”

“Where.” Ellie presses.

“Not sure… I came to ask if we should plan for her… arrival while the ladies are away.” Dina suggests with a conniving smirk.

Ellie’s lips curl dangerously around her sharp teeth, a blinding white. She lifts her darling off the ground, spinning her in celebration as she squeals, droplets of evidence seeping deeper into the floorboards.

“Absolutely.”

wittle taglist :3 HIII DEAR: @elliewilliamsblunt

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #vampire!ellie #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams angst

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harleehazbinfics · 3 months

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Mine, all mine.

a lucifer x reader fanfiction.

inspired by this ask: link

wc: 1728

warning: suggestive themes!!

a/n: sometimes i wish i could just give the program my brain and let it write itself. my ass is not suited for writing at extensive periods of time in one sitting.

You were a sinner, made to rot in hell for all of eternity until exorcist end your miserable souls. However, you refused to lead that fate. You disliked how other demons would underestimate you just because of how weak and fragile you looked, especially with your wings. So, you improvised, you took this to your advantage, eventually one-by-one overlords toppled over from your powers, becoming your servants or souls you feasted on. You never sought to purge sinners or become an overlord in the process for that matter, it was just that you heavily disliked being underestimated by these narcissistic souls, that you couldn’t help but put them in their place.

After decades of doing the same thing over and over again, you decided you wanted something different to do, other than manipulating and devouring retched souls all the time. With Alastor’s recommendation, you find yourself in Hell’s Hazbin Hotel, a hotel that aims to rehabilitate sinners and help them go to heaven. You didn’t oppose to the idea and if there would be sinners that find this their calling, then you’d like to support them in their endeavors, unlike your pal Alastor. Besides, it would be a free meal if some jackass just wanted to stir up some trouble with both of you around.

So, that’s what you led you here to this moment.

“—and this is (y/n), our other host, they’ve been helping with the hotel just a few months ago, despite being a busy overlord and all,” Charlie introduces you to each other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the King of Hell himself. How do you do, my lord?” you greet with a polite smile after dipping your head in acknowledgement.

However, everything flew past Lucifer’s head when he saw your figure. You had a pleasant aura with an angelic face paired with bright beautiful wings that had him thrown in a loop. You had a kind and gentle gaze, lips a luscious shade of pink and cheeks full of life. You were simply ethereal—you didn’t look like you were from hell. You perfectly fit the standard for heaven’s angels and their winners.

“Uhh, dad?”

“Yeah, huh?!” Lucifer startles awake from his daydreaming and pays attention to his daughter. Finally realizing he was on a balcony with Charlie and Vaggie, a long way from where he was lost in thought.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie asks expectantly holding her hands together.

“Uh, yeah yeah. They look great. Say, who was that little friend you had there down there, are they also an angel?” he asks straightforwardly with a finnicky undertone.

“What? (Y/n)? No, they’re an overlord here in hell and our host. Didn’t I already say that?” Charlie replied starting to get annoyed with her dad.

“Oh, I see. They were just very beautiful looking, especially with those wings. I almost certainly thought they were an angel,” he rambles.

Vaggie and Charlie look at Lucifer stunned as Charlie starts, “What? Are you--? No, wait, dad we’re getting sidetracked. I meant the hotel! What do you think of it?!”

Then Lucifer goes on a tangent on how sinners could never be redeemed, and that they were vicious people who misused the gift that he gave them leading them here in hell. Before Charlie could fully give on getting her cause across to her father, a crash interrupts them.

They teleport downstairs and see a bunch of loan sharks barging their way into the hotel.

“Everyone! Get somewhere safe! I’ll handle this,” Vaggie yells readying her spear.

“No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here,” Alastor announces transforming into his demon form.

You chuckle unfurling your wings flying close to him, “Don’t forget about me.”

Lucifer ultimately shuts his mouth as he watches you dive headfirst towards one of the sharks stretching your hand out to grab their faces. You slam him roughly on the ground as his strength drains from his body. The longer you placed your hand on him the more his body crumples and dries, slowly wilting away from your touch. Leaving behind a red pulsing orb, you unhinge your jaw wrapping your tongue around it before swallowing it whole.

Lucifer’s stomach drops to his feet from the realization of his misconception of you, but he undoubtedly receives a hard-on as he can’t help but sexualize your actions. Wondering how it would feel wrapped around your long tongue and enveloped by your lips as you swallowed all of him.

He smacks himself across the face to rid himself of his thoughts and fixes his eyes on you and Alastor finishing up your massacre and dusting yourselves off. As he sees you both banter playfully, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his irritation for the male and comment towards Charlie.

“Mhm, you see? What'd I tell you? Charlie, sinners are violent psychopaths, hell bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There's really no point in trying.”

She angrily huffs and yells at him, “Dad! Stop! He's defending this hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I'd hoped, but he's doing it for me! How come he can have faith in me, but my own father can't?”

His face crumples as he realizes his mistake. Here was his daughter trying to realize her dreams but couldn’t even support her ideas and aspirations. He was no better than those elders that shunned him away for his dreams. He finally comes clean to Charlie and apologizes to her. Finally supporting her dream and agreed on setting up the meeting for her.

But before he teleports away, he glances at you which you only responded with a light smile and nodded your head at him appreciating his help. He couldn’t help but be expectant of the next time you’ll meet again. He wished that Charlie would give him a call again soon.

The next time you met was when the angels attacked the residents of the hotel. When the matter was settled, all of you—including the help you gathered from Cannibal Town, celebrated your win in the now more spacious hotel.

While the lot of them gathered sharing drinks on one side, he saw you by yourself on the other side. He stands next to you with a grin, tapping your shoulder and asks, “This seat taken?”

You get startled from his action unfamiliar with people touching you so casually and give a flustered answer, “N-no! Please have a seat.”

He chuckles as he sits next to you, noticing how you scooted a little further away from him. He feels saddened when he was trying to be close to you, but you pull yourself away from him. He couldn’t help but comment, “You don’t need to be so distant. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

You give him a smile and wrap your hands around your drink before answering, “Sorry. I’m just not used to people trying to come close to me at this distance, with my powers and all.”

He tilts his head cutely making you giggle and continue, “I guess Charlie didn’t tell you. I have the powers to drain demon’s powers. The longer I touch ‘em they die, and their soul becomes mine.”

He lets out a sound of understanding and mutters, “So that’s what that was.”

You look at him with you chin on your hand on the counter looking at him in interest. “Have you been watching me, your majesty?” you couldn’t help but tease.

You were not disappointed as you watch his face turn red as he fumbled with his drink while he tries to reply, “W-well, I couldn’t help but admire how strong you were. Either in a fight or just casually talking to you, you just seem to be so confident that I can’t help but keep my eyes on you.”

“You’re beautiful,” he finishes with a dreamy sigh.

“Are you hitting on me?” you ask complemented with a seductive smile.

His breath hitches as he realizes what he did, as he panics trying to save himself, “I mean! Please don’t take this the wrong way! I was just admiring— whoops!”

He accidentally drops his drink in his flustered state, with both of your fast reflexes you caught the glass together. His hand covering yours, he tilts his head not noticing anything different with himself as he holds you.

Meanwhile, you hastily place the cup down on the counter and fretted over him, “Are you alright? Are you unwell anywhere?”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t feel much different actually,” he says looking at his hands.

You sigh in relief not expecting this man to throw you off your loop. You’re so composed all the time that having this man in your proximity just destroys your braincells with how cute and charming he was.

“Actually, can we do that again?” he asks with a serious look, to which you hesitantly accepted locking your hands together for a while. As time passes on without much progress to his experiment, the more your cheeks turn into a bright shade of red that he finally catches on to.

“What’s go you so flustered all of a sudden, angel?” he teases squeezing your hand a few times egging you on.

You cover your cheeks with your other hand and tightly held his hand to make him stop, “I’ve never held hands with someone before.”

He smirks inching closer to your face, feeling his breath on you as he tried to memorize every part of you with half-lidded eyes, “Never been this close with a handsome bloke before?”

You stand from your seat, evidently towering over him from the sheer height difference then caging him in his both of his hands above him as you pinned him to a wall behind him.

“Never. Would you like to change that?” you whispered by his ear, earning a shudder from him.

“Bet,” he grins letting his forked tongue slither out of his mouth introducing itself to you while letting himself loose and held your waist. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

As the two of you disappeared from the group’s sights, Angel drunkenly yells, “OH, SHIT! LUCIFER’S GETTING SOME ASS TONIGHT!”

“Ewwww,” Charlie cries in disgust not welcoming the thought of his father fucking someone in her brain.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #alastor #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer

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hakugin0 · 1 month

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[ Leviathan/MC fankids ]

These kids have managed to singlehandedly brain rot me so hard it's not even a joke anymore. Look at my granddaughter and grandson and forgive me for how annoying I will be about the in the near future BUT HOW COULD I NOT LOVE THEM 😭💞 in shambles, on the floor, losing it (extra infor under cut

Heritors of Envy aka Levi/MC children, they both have human and demon names (express request of their mother)

Viola 'Vinea'

First Daughter all around

The 'proper' heir, though with how long demons live who even knows

About 80% Levi, stoic, beautiful and obsessed with being perceived as perfect (certain nobles fear their jobs prospects since she started helping)

As a child told one of the Nobles she would marry him when she's big if he takes his job (place bets on who it was); said demon was not strangled on the spot only because he was holding her

Doesn't have a coffin per se, her contract with an eldritch monster is a bit special

Ran 'Raum'

Levi's second child but 3rd(technically 4th) all around

Disinterested in the throne, would rather be Hades' adorable mascot to be dotted and fawned on

Doesn't mean he's not as scheming and intelligent as his sister, if not more

Adorable and he knows it, needs everyone to love and adore him and will stop at nothing (he does pick fights with Orias about who's cuter): he can be slightly clingy but knows when to do it and when not to

Does not yet have a coffin, but he's mildly clairvoyant so he knows which creature will eventually answer him

President of the 'monopolize mom's attention' association that MC's children have jointly formed against their fathers

#haku rambles #my art #haku2024 #whb mc #whb oc #whb #whb envy kids #haku gremlins

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lqveharrington · 2 months

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Is It Over Now? | V.

summary: Alastor coming back after a seven year absence revealed what was underneath your 10 year relationship with Vox.

pairing: vox x wife!reader

includes: VERY MANIPULATIVE VOX, cursing (duh), toxic behavior, alastor not realizing he’s a home wrecker, Vel and Val being somewhat decent, (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: i’m on major hazbin hotel brain rot 🤷‍♀️

You were seething by the end of the extermination. All Vox would talk about was Alastor. It seemed like for the past six months all he could talk about was the Radio Demon. You were fine for about five months of it, but you started to realize it took a toll on you as well.

You were fine when Vox missed your wedding anniversary because he found out Alastor was back. You were fine when Vox missed your fashion week shows for Velvette. You were fine when he missed your birthday. But forgetting your past as extermination was coming up? Forgetting how you would break down every day before the extermination? You were done putting up with his actions.

“Doll, where are you going?” Vox slipped an arm around your waist, oblivious to the faces Velvette and Valentino made. “We’re celebrating here.”

“You’re celebrating.” You pulled away from him, walking up the stairs to your shared suite with Vox. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait, what?” Vox whipped his head over to you, slightly glitching. “What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked but you were already up the stairs, causing him to use the electricity to summon himself to your shared room. “Doll, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You push past him, grabbing your already packed suitcase. “Everything that happened in the last six months is wrong.”

He pulled you by your bicep, claws slightly digging into your skin. “Everything has been the same—“

“No, they haven’t.” You frown, trying to pull yourself out of his hold. “All you’ve been talking about is Alastor. But what about me?”

Vox scoffed, “What about you? I’m with you every fucking day!”

“You’re never with me, Vox!” Your eyes flash red, your free hand emitting red wisps. “Do you know how many anniversaries and dates you missed? Do you know how my days have been going?”

He stayed quiet but felt the rage bubbling up in him.

“You missed our wedding anniversary!” You glare at the ring on the hand holding onto you. “You missed all my shows, you missed my birthday—“

“I didn’t forget them.” He pressed his claws harder into your arm which made you wince. “You should’ve reminded me.”

“I wanted to! But you were so busy that I would just make you even more upset!” You bite your tongue. “Even Velvette and Valentino greeted me with happy anniversaries and a happy birthday. And where were you?” You practically shouted at him. “You were busy picking a fight with the demon who was the best man at our wedding!”

Vox’s eye swirled black and red, “Nothing is ever my fucking fault. You’re the one who wasn’t there for me!”

You flicked your hand which removed his hand from your arm, claws indented on your skin. “Bullshit. I was there every step of the way! I constantly have forgiven and forgiven, but you just keep hurting me!” Your pent-up stress and anger came out as your full demon form as tears welled from your eyes. “You were the one who wasn’t there for me! I cried to Velvette when I started retaining dreams of exorcists killing my family! I begged Valentino to not tell you that you missed any of our anniversaries! You haven’t cared for me since Alastor came back! I’m not playing this game anymore.”

“Where are you going?” He snapped his fingers, locking the doors and shutting the building down. No power was on, which meant everything was locked despite the missing locks. “I doubt anyone would be out during the day of the extermination.”

You paused but kept your composure as you remembered the only demons out. “Yeah, but the hotel is being rebuilt as we speak.”

Vox glitched again, “You are not going over to that shitty hotel.”

“I think I'll be fine since you keep forgetting about me anyway.” You shove him aside. “Unlock the doors, Vox.”

“Doll,” He let out a sigh, watching your every move. “I’m not unlocking the doors.”

“Why the fuck not?” You turn around, tears streaming down your face. “You’ve hurt me too many times! What am I supposed to do when you're too busy with Alastor that there’s no more time for me? Vel was the one who calmed me down this week!” You took a breath and looked up at the ceiling, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars you and Vox put up years ago. “I can’t pretend like we’re fine anymore.”

“Then don’t pretend, tell me.” He smoothed his claws on the arm he previously maimed, the silver wedding band cold against your skin. “When was the last time we fought like this? You were the one to tell me to talk things through.”

You bit your lip, wiping a tear. “I know, but it’s been a constant. Every day all you talk about is Alastor. When have we ever had time for ourselves in the past six months?”

Silence fills the room as no one dares to speak. Your quiet sniffles and Vox’s whirring are the only things keeping the room from being completely silent. Vox continued to rub the marks on your arm, trying to meet your eyes.

“Can you look at me?” He tapped your arm, earning a hum of acknowledgment. “Doll, look at me.” You shifted your gaze toward him, meeting his red eyes. He let a small smile slip, “Hi, gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes, “Yes?”

“Listen, if you want to leave…” He hesitated for a bit before snapping his fingers. “You have the choice to, but not the hotel. Just come back and let me make it up to you, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered between his eyes, the red streaks from his mouth becoming more prominent when you didn’t reply.

He took his free hand and ran a claw down your cheek, making you shiver from the contact. “You could easily take me down and leave. So why not?”

“I don’t know.” You mumble, letting him pull you into him. “I’m sorry.”

Vox grinned sinfully as one of his red eyes turned hypnotic again. He stroked your back, “It’s okay, you’re alright.” The blue chain connecting your wedding rings appeared. The same one that solidified your marriage in Hell. “How about we just stay here? We’ll relax and talk, okay?”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the bed. “I didn’t want to yell.”

“I know, you’re okay.” He set you down on his lap, stroking your cheek once more before tilting your chin up with a singular claw. “You know I love you, right?”

You let a sad smile slip through and peck the corner of his screen. “I love you too.”

Vox pulled you into him again, red streaks appearing down the side of his screen for the last time. “Good.”

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iicarused · 4 months

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oh! it's so cool that other people are also using the pink! mine was the one for asmo, cause well, I'm in love with asmodeus.

anyway, my brain is doing a thing. This isn't a request, just thoughts. I feel like Alastor would be really into a sweet and innocent s/o. someone who it doesn't at all make sense for them to be in hell at first glance, but then you get to know them, and they're actually vicious.

just the idea of him going to the hotel with this sweet little thing next to him. wide-eyes and a genuinely kind, toothy grin. Charlie and Vaggie absolutely cannot understand why you're with Alastor, but it's fine. You'll be easily redeemed after all.

Husk, on the other hand, acts differently because he's met you. he knows you. unfortunately.

And we get to the mimzy episode, where she brings these loansharks to the hotel's door. Alastor, having been gone so long, does his thing and tears them to shreds. Which, expected.

But then Charlie notices you, already in front of the hotel, absolutely wild. Everything about you is just sharper.

the little fight ends, you're covered head-to-toe in sinner-red blood. And that happy little grin is back on you're face as your at Alastor's side, dismissing little mimzy from the hotel grounds.

oop- alright. that was long. sorry, I was bored :D

- 🍰 anon

i love ozzie!! such a great character especially in later episodes(,: i adore him!! i’m honestly excited to write him up when i got your request

no because i’ve been thinking about this!! you literally just read my brain rot for the passed WEEK because i love the idea of that

in no way shape or form are you considered an overlord. just a singer at ozzie’s from time to time, (imagine working under his name ong) with alastor coming by so often to just hear you!! you’re a sweet face and kind smile, everyone cannot fathom how you ended up in hell.

alastor brought you to the hotel as entertainment for future “guests” and to show sinners that someone like you wants to join a hotel like that. it certainly brought interest and people talk about the hotel more often.

but everyone in the hotel does not understand why you’re even dating alastor, out of all people! hell, husk seems to be a better option considering the late night conversations shared. while he isn’t fond of you, you always brought a nice conversation to his counter.

the day everything clicked is when mimzy showed up. you don’t have a demonic form like alastor, but you do know how to shoot a gun. imagine coming into the hotel with your hands over alastors arm, apologizing for getting blood on him but he’s like “we’ll get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” and you just look at angel dust before offering a wave.

husk is like “yeah, they’re like that as a couple. you don’t even want to know how many souls are chained to her hand” implying that you do have demons selling their souls to you — husk just won’t say why

#ᥫ᭡.#alastor x reader #{ ★ :: 🍰anon }

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adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months

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hiii!! how are you? god, it's my first time requesting and I'm super awkward but I've been kinda having this dark mc brain rot! what would the love and Deepspace boys do with a secret gambler mc who's just like yumeko jabami? that'd be so interesting! feel free to ignore this ask if that makes you uncomfortable and have a nice day!

🎲 LND Scenarios with Dark Gambler!MC

🎲 Synopsis: Love and Deepspace men dealing with their dark gambler partner's eccentrics.

🎲 Pairing: LND x GN!Reader

🎲 Content Warning: sexual undertones, mild humor, no pronouns/looks mentioned (Jabami is for the aesthetic), Zayne is the only one vibing, there's no mercy in kitty cards!

🎲 A/N: Thanks for letting me take a crack at your request. I never watched Kakeguri but I think I got the vibe! I did tone the behavior down a little to fit LND more but I think you'll be satisfied. Zayne's part turned into my favorite even though I had the hardest time thinking of a scene for him!

“Let me have a turn.”

Xavier shudders at the dark aura he senses behind him despite the sweet smile plastered on your face. It’s almost like seeing a demon reflecting in the glass of the claw machine but in the form of an angel. He knew it was a bad idea to come to the arcade. He was no good at the machine no matter how much he tried and the nearly empty bowl where his tokens once laid was the proof.

“It’s alright. I didn’t think I could get it anyway. I’m not really good at this game.”

You frown at him. “It’s not you, love. These games are designed to cheat people out their money. It's disgusting really.”

Xavier gulps at that word. Cheat. If there was one thing you hated in this world, it was unfairness. The crooked smile forming on your face forces him to return eye contact with the special edition bunny plush he’s failed to get time and time again. Somehow, he sees fear in its eyes.

“I’ll get it for you.” Your hand reaches into the coin bowl; each clink makes his throat tighten as you finally pull out one of the coins between your fingers. “That bunny will be coming home with us.”

Xavier knows there’s little he can do when you sound that determined. Luckily, you won the bunny in two attempts.

“Ta-da! A fluffy bunny for my fluffy bunny.”

A sense of relief washes over him when the round rabbit hits his hands. Maybe he was being overly paranoid. However, his relief is quickly buffed out by anxiety when he sees you place another coin in the machine. It’s only a few seconds before the chimes of the machine go off again. Then, you pass him another toy, a carrot this time.

“Every bunny needs a snack!” you coo, but your tone carries that familiar edge that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. “Now, whom shall we capture next?”

To Xavier, it sounds less like a question and more like a decree of war. “I think these two are more than enough for today."

“Xavier, this game stole forty dollars from you. I’m not going to let it get away with that,” you declare, proving it was just as he feared as your voice lowers. “Now, which one do you want, dear? Oh, I know, I'll just win them all for you! How does that sound?" you ask, but Xavier is eerily aware that it won’t matter what he says when you’re like this.

“Here we go!” you mewl as the claw begins to whir up.

Ignoring the shiver that climbs up his spine when your voice drips with the venom of ecstasy, there’s little Xavier can do but take another step back, buy another bowl of coins, and hold them for you as the role of a supportive boyfriend.

It’s an hour later when he finds himself surrounded by plushies, much more than he can hold, and the fear that you’re going to get kicked out the arcade any second.

“Cleaned out again!” you announce with a shrill breathy gasp, the giggle you give reminding him of the maniacal laughter Lemonette chortles out whenever the wanderer sprays lemon juice in his eyes. “Tell the employees we need another refill.”

“We don't have enough hands to carry all the ones you already won.”

“What?” Your focus finally breaks from the game and to the many toys scattered on the floor around him, overtaking his feet, then to the worried look on his face. “I went overboard again, didn’t I?”

Xavier sighs. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“How do you suggest I do that?” he asks with a shake of his head. “You’re impossible to stop.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him innocently. “I did get you your bunny though!”

“At the cost of the poor arcade owner’s precious sanity,” he reminds you but the smile on his face is less than scolding when he sees the guilty sulk you have and the lax of your shoulders. “Let’s find a donation center to drop these little guys off. We’ll count it as our good deed for the month.”

“Good idea! How about we surprise all the kids at the hospital?” you agree. Xavier chuckles. There’s the angel again.

“Pretty please, Rafayel!”

The painter rolls his eyes, scooting further away from you to find a different spot on the floor to sit as you crawl after him. Rafayel turns his head away and strokes his paintbrush down the center of his canvas.

“No. Now, go away. Shoo. Shoo, go paw at someone else,” he says, waving the wet paintbrush at you.

“But no one else will play with me,” you whine.

“I wonder why?”

You are terrifying when you play kitty cards. Unfortunately, he was once the only one foolish enough to play with you because he wasn’t aware of how you got when you gambled even when the winnings were only a few pieces of chocolate. He knows better now. Despite your cute precious face, you were evil incarnate when it came to games.

“Surely, you pity me my dear sweet, gorgeous boyfriend. Did I forget to mention talented?” You give him the puppy eyes to try to wear down his resolve; your hand glides over his bangs, lovingly pushing them from his face. As much as he loves trying to make you happy, this is one of the few things in the world that he refuses to listen to you about.

“As true as all of that may be, I prefer living thanks,” he says before switching brushes to another color. A splash of blue would be excellent.

“Is this about last time?” you ask him. “It was an accident.”

“You nearly broke my hand!”

“You were trying to swap the kitties!” you yell back. Rafayel was a no-good cheater when it came to playing games and not the least bit sorry about it. It’s not your fault that you grabbed his hand by reflex nor that he was so dramatic about it.

“So, the sentence is hand breaking? That's cruel and unusual punishment!” he says with a gasp.

"Is it wrong to take away your tool for cheating?"

“Have you forgotten what I do for a living? You might as well lay me out in the sun to dry.”

Sighing, you decide to agree with him. You suppose you could be a little competitive when it came to games. Besides, they say it’s easier to catch more flies with honey. “Look, I’m sorry, baby,” you apologize and smooth out a hand over his thigh. “How about I give you a super special prize if you win.”

Rafayel barely looks at you from the corner of his eyes that slowly drop to where your hand rests on his leg. You’re on your hands and knees next to him, perched up like a cat begging to be petted.

“I’m listening,” he says, continuing to mix his paints. Purring, you lean in and whisper in his ear the prizes you’re willing to trade for him to play one little round with you.

His heart races with each word. It’s suddenly becoming harder to keep the stroke of the brush straight when your hand starts to trail further and further up his thigh. “Well, when you put it that way—” and he almost gives in until he sees the corner of your lips curling up into a smirk. “Wait. No. I refuse.”

“Not even if—” and you whisper in his ear again. He swears the brush handle will splinter if he grips it any tighter. His face is glowing a light red by the time you pull away. He might be Lumerian but he’s still a man; it’s difficult to bury the memories of pleasure under the memories of his fingers squeezing in your hard grip the last time you caught him cheating. He manages, somehow.

“How easy do you think I am? I’m not open for business whenever you want, darling.” He manages to spat out, not exactly the best rejection but it’ll suffice.

You puff up your cheeks at him. “You’re the meanest boyfriend ever!”

“And you’re evil when a card gets in your hand,” he argues back. The last thing he sees is the red of your shirt as you pounce on him and blue paint spilling across the floor.

“You’re so nice, Zayne. You’re the only one who's brave enough to play against me.”

Zayne glances up from the stack of cards in his hands to catch your tongue glancing over your lips to wet them as you stare him down with dilated eyes. He expected you to get worked up but not quite this early into the game.

“I had the free time today.”

The real reason he schedules these regular games with you is to keep your strange habit under control, like providing a little bit of a drug to an addict; or in simpler terms, walking an overly energetic Husky so it won’t tear up the furniture. It beats the many times you ring him up at two in the morning, needing him to come rescue you out of a tough situation. He knows you’ll never learn your lesson with him always swooping in when needed, but he can’t stand the possibility of you getting hurt should he not come to your rescue every time you over bet your hand and need him to win back your money for you. The doctor never really expected to be a poker or kitty card expert at this age but alas.

“I’m guessing there’s at least one Kitty Plot in your hand, am I right?” you ask him; and he doesn’t understand how you sound more excited each time he obtains another assist card.

“And if I told you there was?”

The giggle you let out sounds much too vulgar for a simple game of kitty cards, but he’s used to this eccentricity of yours at this point. “Then that means I get to beat you even when you’re at your best!”

You slap down a Freeze card and Skip card. There’s not much he can do other than draw his assist card and ride out your next turn. In the next phase, you throw out another assist card, one that will allow you to restock your empty number stockpile and seal your victory.

“Any last words?” you ask him. He can see that you’re starting to twitch with the excitement that comes from besting him. It’s the most dramatic thing he’s seen, but he’d be a liar to say it wasn’t…satisfying…to watch your face fill with shock as he blocks your finishing move with a Meow This. Maybe you were rubbing off on him after all, he muses.

“You held on to that all this time?” you ask him, recalling the many chances he could’ve blocked your earlier plays. You were aware he was luring you into a trap by playing the slow game, but you thought you could get around it this time. With a dreamy sigh, you cup your cheek in your hand. “I should’ve known. Just careless.”

“Any last words?” he asks, mocking your earlier victory line.

“None I’m afraid. I’m completely at your mercy; helpless in the face of your onslaught,” you tell him, and he ignores the little tilt of seduction lacing your voice and the squirming of your thighs as he starts erasing every point you’ve earned.

Slowly, your points decrease one by one as he throws out assist after assist while you let out little whimpers and mutter compliments under your breath with each cup color change and point reducer he throws out.

You’re going to lose! Again! He’s incredible as always.

But you’re offered deliverance when instead of erasing the six points of your blue kitty the cup color changes to match it. You hear Zayne “tch” under his breath, and you can’t help but laugh when he finally has to give up and fill the last white kitty cup with a pathetic low-level kitten.

In the end, you only won by two points but that was all you needed.

“I won…I won!” you repeat, rocking back and forth as you hug yourself and toss your head back. “I finally beat you! You won’t believe how long I waited for this day! Now what should my prize be?” You fall back onto the floor, kicking your feet. “It’s so hard to decide. I honestly didn’t think this day would come! There are so many things I’ve dreamed of making you do for me!”

Zayne presses his lips into a thin line as he begins to collect the kittens from the cup. “Calm down. You’re drooling on the carpet,” he exaggerates, not that you're in the right mind to listen.

“I got it. I know just what I want,” you squeal, holding your finger in your mouth to muffle your laughs. Zayne tenses when you sit up, much like a vampire from a horror movie, and lock eyes with him; he doesn’t think he’s felt so targeted since his days in the military.

“Meow for me, Zayne,” you demand, and his face burns at the ridiculousness of your request.

“You—”

“Are you backing out? That’s poor sportsmanship especially considering I took every nasty medicine each time you won.”

Zayne shakes his head. “No. I was simply thinking that’s surprisingly tame for you.”

You lift your eyebrows curiously. “So, does that mean?”

Zayne leans in over the table. In this position, he can see how your face softens from that lust-filled haze that gambling always manages to place over you. He doesn’t know if you can actually get embarrassed, but you certainly look flustered as he locks eyes with you.

“Meow.”

“Oh,” you gasp, eyes wide. “T-That was absolutely wonderful,” you blurt out with a clasp of your hands. “Do it again.”

“It was a one-time deal,” Zayne rejects before straightening his back.

“I didn’t think you would do it. One more little meow for me?” you plead. “This was a special victory, and I didn’t get to enjoy my winnings properly.”

“If you want to hear it again, I’m afraid you’ll have to beat me a second time,” he answers bluntly.

“And if you win?”

“You do what I want.”

“Which is?”

Zayne smirks at you. “All I can tell you is that I’ll ask for much more than a meow.”

“You’re on! You’re on! You’re on! What better way to solidify my position as the best kitty card player than with a streak?”

“I take it we’re playing on Hell Mode then.”

“What do you mean? It’s always heaven playing against you, Zayne. You’re the only one who can give an actual challenge,” you sweetly coo, nearly a moan. “Unfortunately, your reign will officially be coming to an end. I’m going to beat you without luck; and when I do, I think I’ll make you meow and purr for my reward.”

“Hurry and restart the match then if you believe that.”

Zayne watches as you excitedly set the game back up. He supposes that this type of gambling is more fun than gambling with chocolates. At least until he sees your social media message the next morning.

Guess who finally toppled the old king and became the new Ruler of Kitty Cards? I won’t name them. No one asked. It’s not polite to be a sore loser, my adorable meowing subject.

#zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lnd x reader #notsfw #adelssmut

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intrinsicepiphany · 3 months

Text

Okay tumblr lets talk theories again.

(my brain rot + knowledge of religion has me all up in Hazbin Hotel right now.)

Today I want to talk Biology! Mostly because I made the poor choice of going to Twitter's chaggie tag and looking at the comments...

So can we discuss Why do so many people keep trying to apply HUMAN biology to the Half-Demon Nephillim daughter of an Arch-Angel?!

Okay I'll start at the begining and work my way to the reasons why if Charlie really wants a kid with Vaggie both of them being assigned female at creation probably isn't going to matter.

Let's start with Lucifer!

So as far as has been shown in the show Lucifer is an original Archangel even down to his lovely 6 red wings. This makes him one of the most powerful beings in heaven.

(If we go by bible text he was actually a favorite until his dreams of free will led him astray and depending on the text he merely has to admit he was wrong and ask for forgiveness to return)

Now looking at everything after this fall he has never lost his Angelic Abilities. His default powers are still angelic gold.

We do see he also has a Full Demon form when he is pissed. Interestingly enough his crown also doubles as a halo in this form. Also note for later just how much Charlie resembles him in both forms.

This suggest that at root biology Lucifer is still an archangel with demon traits. This combination is most likely what makes him the strongest being in hell by a long shot. The only reason others even have power is purely because he doesnt care enough to flex his power and has no desire to actually rule.

Now on to Lilith!

What do we know about Lilith?

Well we know she was a created human not born.

She was Adam's equal

And she left and got with Lucifer before the fall.

So here is the deal... I dont think Lilith can be classified as a sinner. She didnt die to end up in hell and in fact she fell before hell was really a thing. she helped create it after all. (Plus you know Charlie exsists)

So what IS Lilith? I think Lilith as one of a few Actual Demons. And if we have to classify her she'd be closer to a Sin. I actually think of Lilith as the Sin of Pride in Hazbin Hotel not Lucifer. We are even told that She created pentagram city and developed hell while lucifer kept to his workshop in depression.

Now let's talk about this scene for a second. Lilith fell from heaven/earth Alive and possibly even immortal since human kind was immortal before Eve took the apple.

Lilith gains power from her fall into hell. She develops demon like attributes and seems to have musical based magic. She also seems to retain or get immortality. So what does this fall mean? It means that Lilith was NOT HUMAN by the time Charlie was born.

So what does this mean for Charlie?

Well for one Charlie is NOT just some Hellborn. She is by Definition a Nephilim but she is not half-human. She would most likely be considered a Half-Demon, Half-Angel Nephilim.

This would explain her expansive (if never used) power base. The official power ranking has her tied with Lilith with only Lucifer being more powerful. Which makes complete sense. She is the Heir to the entire thing after all. (I actually think this is why Alastor couldnt make a deal for her soul and settled for a favor instead)

She also inheirited Angelic powers from her father. As seen by the fact that her default magic is gold. Which means she has angel blood in her veins. Lets be honest i wouldnt be surprised if she ended up bleeding gold in the future.

In fact she seems to have inherited most of her abilities from dear old dad.

Im pretty sure that just by shear ability and magic if Charlie wanted a kid she could probably create/magic one into exsistance no matter who her partner was.

But lets review Vaggie just for fun! Because I have thoughts

What do we actually know about Vaggie?

Well we know she is an angel. I say is because I dont think Lute or Adam actually have the power to cast an angel out of heaven AND she gets her wings back. This would mean she is not actually a sinner she would be closer to a fallen angel like lucifer.

We know she speaks Spanish and seems to be of Hispanic nature. BUT! Do we know if she was ever really human?!

We know Adam claims to have named her Vaggie. This could suggest three things

1) exorcist take on a new name when they join. But if this was true why wouldnt she leave this name behind and return to her human name once in hell? It would have kept her secret better and you'd figure she would want to leave behind the negative feelings that would come with her exorcist name.

2) Adam in his self-centered ways misheard her real name (maybe something like Aggie from Agatha or Maggie) and thought she said Vaggie or actively chose to misinterpret her name and she never cared to correct him. BUT Once more why would she not just return to her real name once with Charlie in hell?

Or 3) And this one is the real kicker. Vaggie is a Heaven-born Angel.

If the answer is 3 than it would imply that she was never human which brings her closer to lucifers biology.

Some other interesting things to consider about this last theory. Lute and Vaggie resemble each other a great deal. In fact, all the exorcist seem to have a similar body type. (I mean you could argue its the uniform but even without the uniform the resembalance between lute and vaggie is uncanny) and if I remember correctly at one point the exterminators are refered to as sister? I mean this could mean sisters-in-arms BUT What if ALL exorcist were heaven-born?

If they were never human this could explain both their ability and their desire to slay sinners. Much like Sera they wouldn't have any sympathy for the dammed because they wouldn't have any possible family that could end up down there. They would also have Very little connection to or concern for former humans. After all like Adam said they had their chance and they screwed up.

So in the end what does this all mean?

Well I actually already kind of said it

1) Fandom really needs to stop applying human biology to Charlie. She is a half demon half archangel Nephilim with incredible magic.

If charlie wants a kid she can probably magic one up no matter the obsticles please stop asking artist and writers how it is possible for her and vaggie to have a kid/get pregnant if they are both women - the answer is Charlie Magic.

2) all 4 of the above have the potential to be way stronger than they have been shown in the show.

And

3) Charlie is a potential BadAss and is just too nice to go full tactical nuke - this will be covered in my next ted talk.

#hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #vaggie #chaggie

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christinebloodwrittings · 4 months

Text

Till' death do us apart.

Pairing: Angel Y/n x Alastor Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Warning: Biblical nonsense. :}

Masterlist –– Next chapter

So this was caused by the absolute brain rot my love for the series has given me, 40% of the text I got it from the transcript of the first episode Overture, and Michael's text was brought by Hazbin Hotel: Journey to the Light, shoutout to the creator. It's a one time thing as to bring this sort of prologue.

As always, the characters mostly belong to Vivienne Medrano, and it is a fanfiction with no intention of offending anyone.

Prologue

At the beginning, Heaven rose from the light of creation, it´s golden glow soon was to be known though out existence. It was ruled by beings of pure light, Angels that worshiped good and shielded the world from all evil.

Samael was one of the first angels. He was a dreamer with delusional ideas for all of creation, for this, he was seen as a menace. The elders of Heaven were brought to the conclusion that his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when its creation, the forbidden fruit was placed in the hands of a mortal woman, this made the high command make the decision to banish Samael from heaven, causing the creation of the demonic place known years later as Hell.

The word 'Hell' was derived from an Anglo-Saxon word hellia, that meant wicked or evil.

Samael’s wife, the first human woman ever created, Lilith, thrived with the decision. After being banished along with her husband, she empowered demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power.

To say Heaven was threatened by that fact was an understatement, according to the paperwork Adam - the first human man and soul to enter heaven – left, I was able to discover that the overpopulation was being handled through an extermination, a massive genocide is a correct termination. What I found interesting, was that the procedure ruled out hell-born beings, no exceptions, and no precedents of any contract with Samael or any form of power known to rule in hell.

To think Adam’s heart was so big that he decided to condemn only human souls, sparing “innocent” hell-born beings, is moronic. But as soon as I started to leave my obligations unattended to uncover the mystery of the excess of blood in the hands of the high command, my actions were noticed by Michael, the archangel of light.

“Demons... It seems as if I can never catch them all and destroy them, and their numbers continue to expand, corrupting the minds of mortals” he scoffed, picking up his cup of tea, “That’s no reason to go down and take their lives, if you’re so concerned about them corrupting mortals, shut down their access to portals-“ he interrupted me hitting the table hard, breaking the saucer on which he placed the cup, his voice became distorted and his eyes widened around his head, trying to intimidate me.

“They are sinful beasts who rejected our light so we help remove them from it and keep them in the shadows of Hell. We allow them to live, an example of the angel's merciful will, but their population must be... controlled, until they cease being an annoying, persistent thorn in the side of our family” he hissed.

“Our family, was pushed down a hole and since then, no one, not even you, has tried to establish any contact, don’t you think it’s almost an insult that Adam saw Samael before us? Because I do”

“You seem to have a clouded judgement” he adjusted his glasses with a stern movement.

“It’s as clear as ever, I go to earth, I see the souls go either up or dragged down, you’re the one that is clouded because you haven’t witnessed any of their pain” my blood boiled causing my aura to manifest around me.

“Watch your words” he warned, his eyes flaring in a blue from of flame.

“I can't wait for him to find out, and what will be worse for you, is that everyone will know that you agreed to this from the beginning” I snickered, it was wrong to provoked him, but I felt as if I had the upper hand on him.

I wish someone had warned me of how wrong I was.

“You were the only “no” that day, you were the only one to try to defend his ideas” he thought out loud.

“So?” I asked confused, reaching for the door.

There was a shrill sound, the next thing I knew, I felt a horrible pain in my back, also heat, the air was humid and hot, a smell of blood between fresh and thousands of years old. I don't know how long I was face down in the dirt, I was only able to get up when the pain stopped enough and I was able to move to dry my tears. The dry, arid land under my hands and the sign in front of me confirmed my suspicions.

Son of a bitch had thrown me into Hell.

#alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel season 1

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plutoswritingplanet · 4 months

Text

Ring Of Fire (Lucifer x Female!Reader) pt.2

a/n: we're taking a turn for the weirder, next chapter will be slightly more comfort than hurt (you know, as much as i know how to write comfort). for now, all we have is darkness and edginess. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (wow that never fking happens on this blog), Soulmates, Emotional Torture, Biting (not the sexy kind), like...a teeny tiny smidge of cannibalism.

Summary: The psychological torment of being chosen for the Devil tips over as he visits you in your sleep.

PT.1

At first, you're not aware that you're dreaming. A strange haze falls over your vision, as if you've just woken up from a devastating fever. Your limbs sway slowly, like you're treading through honey. It fascinates you, the way the light of a streetlamp flickers over your fingers, as you raise your hand. Bare feet on the concrete, your toes contract, pebbles stuck to the skin. The air feels weird on your skin, like liquid pouring over your form in an invisible cascade. It feels real enough, yet so far away.

You remember falling asleep on Bobby's guest bed, brought down by the events of the night. What were those events, you couldn't remember, but you can smell smoke swirling in your nose and your eyes are puffy with tears. You sniffle, swipe your hand across your face and feel as if by this simple gesture, your skin has been pulled like fresh taffy. Perhaps you have died in your sleep. The thought is, for some reason, incredibly funny to you, and from somewhere far away you can hear a voice, strangely similar to yours, giggle. It echoes through your skull like a church bell, and you groan at the reverberating sound.

- Crossroads? Really? - you turn around without any grace in your movement, as another voice rings out right next to you.

Your breath catches in your throat and you can feel all the muscles in your body constric, then relax forcefully, as if some invisible strength was trying to keep you docile.

There he stands. So human, so plain, it tugs on your heart in a way you were not expecting. Lucifer. His hands clasped in front of him, red spots and abrasions decorating his skin in a grotesque display. Sick, your brain supplies, he looks sick, as if he's starting to rot where he stands, and suddenly, in this strange dream the worst possible feeling comes to surface. You pity him, truly and deeply. Normally you'd jot it down to caring for the poor man he has chosen for his temporary vessel, but here, where reality doesn't exist, you can't force yourself to entertain this lie. Your fingers flex at your sides, a need to heal, to help, pushing at them to come forward, to cradle his face like he did to yours.

God help you, you wanted to help this monster.

Then, his words register in your brain, and you finally look around.

You're in the middle of a cement road, somewhere you don't recognize, and sure enough, there is a crossroad. You haven't been to one in such a long time. Not since Dean got dragged to hell and pushed by grief, you were about to do something unbelievably stupid. You remember begging. Actually begging a demon to take your soul, to save your friend, only to be met with a cruel laughter and emptiness so profound, it nearly broke you. Shame washes through you like a sudden wave, and you try to keep some integrity by encircling your chest with your arms. It does you little to no comfort, and Lucifer cocks his head to the side, as if he's in tune with your emotions.

- Do you dream of this place often? - Lucifer asks, walking around you at a slow pace.

You don't know how to respond. Do you? Perhaps that is the case, perhaps somehow you've always had some sort of connection to the crossroads, where the most wicked of deals were made. Perhaps it was all his fault, from the very beginning. You nod, once, not trusting your own voice, and the Devil flashes you a quick smile, before his expression darkens, as if he's deeply in thought. There are prominent shadows falling over his face, his eyes sunken even more than you remember.

- I can't find you - he finally looks up at you, and your heart stops just for a second - You're invisible to me, I wonder, why is that?

Castiel, you immediately think, and you have to look away from him at the memory of your friendly neighborhood Angel carving Enochian symbols into your bones. It's almost like you can feel them, beneath your skin, beneath the muscle and the guts. Not hurting, not really. Just, there. A constant reminder, that you're hunted by a being that feels entitled to your very existence. Being, which is currently taking small steps towards you, looking over your body as if you were a piece of prime meat in a display case at a grocery store.

- You're hiding from something you cannot stop - he says, and you feel the coldness of his breath on your collarbones - It's Dad's will after all.

That, for some reason, wakes you up from your previous stupor. Shaking your head, you try to take a step back, a litany of "no's" spilling from your lips. To that, he frowns, grabs at your shoulders to keep you in place, and with a sudden wave of horror you realize, you can't move. And you want to move so badly, your body feels as if it's tearing itself in half. White fire, cold burning floods you, when his hands make contact with your skin, fingers skimming over the flesh of your arms, dragging down and down, until they grab at your wrists.

- I don't want this - there's conviction in your voice you were not expecting, because truly and deeply, you fucking hate this situation, this responsibility which has been placed upon you without your knowledge or consent.

Lucifer laughs an airy laugh.

Gently, as if you're a porcelain doll, he brings your hands closer to his face. He maneuvers your fingers, eyes watching with fascination at the way your knuckles move under your skin. The tendons, the veins, he swallows it all with a greedy gaze, and the coldness of his breath makes hairs stand at the back of your neck.

- I'm not particularly thrilled by this revelation myself - he whispers to your fingertips - I mean, isn't this insulting? To force me to care for a thing I swore to hate.

You shudder at the sudden harshness in his voice, and his hands dig further into the meat of your wrist. Reminding yourself that this is just a dream, you try to steel your nerves, focus on leveling your breathing, on freeing yourself from his grasp. It's harder than you anticipate, trying to collect any sort of self-preservation, while your mind is cradled by the smothering blanket of whatever dream-magic has been placed on you.

- But then again, I am a child of an absent father - something akin to mirth flashes through his face, and as he looks up at you, eyes gleaming with something you're too scared to decipher, you're convinced you'll never truly escape him - And such a gift... - he sighs deeply within his chest, pressing the scarred surface of his cheek to your palm - Well, who am I to deny it?

Your face twists into an expression of disgust, and with a whine, you tear yourself away, craning your body as far from him as it is willing to go. Which arguably isn't much. His grip on your body tightens, arms digging into you, as he forces a perversion of a hug onto your unwilling frame.

- I've killed for less - he whispers into your ear, and revels in the way your entire body shivers - You're really lucky, and I don't think you quite realize how much.

- I don't want to be lucky - painted nails dig into the cotton of his shirt, as you try your hardest to hurt him, force him to back up, or just react to your defiance in any other way than patronizing indifference. - I want nothing to do with you, I don't want you.

To that, he humms low in his throat, and you whimper, as cold lips descent upon the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. You can't truly describe the kind of fear he brings upon you, but your entire body seems to surrender despite your best efforts at doing otherwise. Must be magic, you reason. He must've placed you under some kind of a spell, there is no other explanation.

- Don't you think you're being just a tad ungrateful? - he asks, nose dragging along your artery - I mean, here I am, ready to love you, to care for you, to accept you as the gift that you are... - he takes a long drag of your hair, savoring the scent as your knees start to buckle - And you're ready to throw it all away because, what exactly? Because I'm what my Father has made me?

- Because you're a monster, only capable of hurting others - you seethe through your teeth, and immediately get cut off, when presses your bodies tighter together, something worryingly similar to a growl resounding deep within his chest.

- Is that what you think?

You've made a mistake, immediately you can recognize that. Playing the tough guy in front of the literal Devil, while having no real idea of the supposed bond tying you both together, wasn't your smartest moment. Cold sweat forms on your forehead, when Lucifer extends his hands out, fingers digging into the flesh of your arms. Then, looking at you from that small distance, he gives you a strangely bored look. Like he has seen everything you've done play out in front of him a million times, like he knows all there is to know about you.

God save you, you hate that look more than any atrocity he has committed.

- Don't look at me like that - bravery, or stupidity, you can't decide as words leave your mouth in a snarl. - You don't know anything about me.

- I know all that's important - he counters - I know God made you for me.

He takes a step closer, and suddenly you've grown very tired of this constant dance. His hands massage their way towards your shoulders, where he grips you tight and drags you towards him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest, but he straightens you out forcefully, like you're some doll he can maneuver all he likes.

- I know you're rebellious, just like me - his whisper seeps into your very being, as if you've become infected by his gentle tone - You're lonely, just like me.

You want to shake your head no, you really want to, but he keeps you frozen, enchanted by his sudden closeness, and the barely noticable note of vulnerability hidden in his grey eyes.

Sam and Dean flood your mind. Your boys, your closest friends. The times you've spent together were few and far between, but you cherish them. You truly do. Which is why, your heart breaks at the realization, that Lucifer is right. Despite the bars, and the hunts, and the long drives, you're lonely. Loneliness follows you like a shadow, too ingrained into your bones to ever leave. But not right now, never when he's around.

- It's okay, you know - Lucifer sighs, leaning down to kiss right between your collarbones - Sooner or later you'll realize, there's no shelter, no hideout where I wouldn't find you. That's true love, babe.

- Stop - a plea slips between your lips, quiet and pathetic, reminiscent of when you've fallen to your knees, begging a demon to bring your friend back.

What you were pleading for this time, you couldn't really comprehend, all you know is, you don't want to do this. You can't do this, and if this really was true love, wasn't he supposed to understand?

The beating of your hear escalates, when he moves to grab at your face, hands so perfectly fitting alongside your jaw. He turns your head from side to side, as if wanting to commemorate every angle, etch it into his mind. If it were any other man, you'd be over the moon. If he wasn't a threat of catastrophic magnitude, just waiting to end the lives of your friends and everyone on Earth, you would've craned your neck further, given him access. Accepted your fate.

Yet, when his cold lips press into yours, it's so easy to forget why you've been unwilling all this time. He's gotten better at it, you muse, as he kisses your unmoving mouth, trying to pull some reaction out of you. Finally, you gasp, when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth, and bites down hard enough to draw blood. Immediately he takes advantage, thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw, until you have no choice, but to open up to him. It's nauseating, the way he kisses you, as if he needs to map out the insides of your mouth right this instance.

Lucifer pulls away so suddenly, for a second you follow his mouth before steeling yourself. Blood trickles down from your bitten lips, and he launches at the small streak. Tongue laps at the skin of your chin, licking off every trace of red, and the sound he makes is downrigh sinful. Then, emboldened by your taste, his hands push upwards, the muscles of your neck straining, as he moves your head back.

The skin of your throat is exposed and pulled taunt, and your entire body is ready to collapse, when he presses open mouthed kisses along your trachea. Then, as you let out a whimper, he moves to the side, kissing and licking a line towards your pulse point. He stays there for a moment, dragging his teeth down the cullumn of your throat, hard enough to make you squirm in discomfort. From gentle coaxing, his ministrations took a sharp turn to roughter territories.

- So sweet - Lucifer muses to himself, taking another whiff of your scent - I could just eat you up.

Something in his tone of voice startles you. It's not a cute love confession, a cliche line from a romantic movie. From his lips, it sounds daunting, like a promise he can't wait to fulfill. Your eyes swipe downwards, but all you can see is the top of his head, as he dips down to further abuse your throat. He's not gentle by any means, all teeth and no comfort with the way he nibbles at the skin behind your ear. It's pleasurable, or it would be, if it were any other person, or a person at all.

Then, the air seems to shift, a sinister streak you're not familiar with crawls the lenght of your back, and you tremble like a caught bird in his unwavering grasp. As if sensing the change, his hands switch the hold on your face, supporting the underside of your jaw and chin, pulling up and up, until you have to stand on your tippy toes.

- Perhaps I should - ringing fills your ears as tears flood the corners of your eyes - Perhaps that will show you, who you belong to.

And with that, he pulls back. Like a priest raising his cup at the Holy Communion, he raises your head, eyes roaming across the marks he has made on your throat. And then, he dives down, jaw open, teeth glistening in the darkness of the night.

You can feel it all, as he tears through skin and muscle, sinking into your trachea as if taking a bite out of a ripe apple. Your scream sounds so far away, so muddled, for a moment you can't recognize it's you that's screaming. Then, he pulls back with a sickening, wet, tearing sound, and your voice dies down in a gargle. Blood floods your mouth, spills through your teeth, a waterfall of red soaking your entire front. Through hazy vision you see him chew and swallow, and the sight churns your insides, as you double over, bile quickly making it's way up what's left of your throat.

Except, it doesn't hit the pavement. It lands on the wooden floors of Bobby's guest room. Confusion barely registers in your panicked state, as you roll off the bed, grabbing at the gaping wound in your throat. A wound that isn't there at all. Phantom pain wrenches a series of shouts from you, like an animal caught in a trap. Begging from help. Knowing it will recieve none. The coarse surface of the floor scratches at your thighs, as you push yourself into a nearest corner, tears mixing with sweat on your face.

That's when Dean rushes in, Sam right after him. Any other day, you'd consider their company a blessing, but right now all you can think of, is what Lucifer has in store for them. How he can hurt them, to get to you. Castiel teleports into the room soon after, and you wish the floorboards would open up and swallow you whole.

- He was... - you wince, voice creaking like old hinges - He was in my dream.

That's all Sam needs to cross the room and kneel in front of you, gently pulling at your hands, which are still clutching the non-existent wound on your throat. The skin is red and raw, nail marks trail down from under your chin to your collarbones, but there is nothing else.

- I know - Sam whispers, arms encircling you in a warm hug, that just feels like entrapment - I know, I'm so sorry.

Deep down you know, he understands. The weight of being promised to the Devil, the torment he can bring upon a person, the fear. But right now, all you can feel are teeth, and lips, and hands which are too cold to be anything other than a monster.

Castiel has questions, you can see it, in the way his eyes scan the room, fall on your shaking frame, still pushed into a corner. He doesn't ask them, thankfully, opting to gruffly mutter something about checking the wards around the house. Bobby yells from his office, Dean yells back. You try to focus on the warmth coming from Sam's chest. You stay like that for a couple more minutes, before finally, calming down enough to stand up and wipe your tears off your face with a heavy hand.

- We'll figure something out - Sam supplies his usual response to anything Apocalypse related.

What used to be a hopeful promise, right now sounds more like a hollow echo.

Dean keeps his opinions to himself, chewing on them as he hands you a beer fresh out of the fridge. Only when the liquid freezes it's way down your pipes, you are certain your throat is where it should be. Your brain is coming back as well, rebellion, loneliness, all the traits Lucifer has read from you. They mix with anger, slowly rising within your chest, because fuck that. Fuck him, fuck God and fuck every single entity responsible for your current predicament.

- Yeah - you force yourself to sound convinced - Yeah, we'll kick his fucking ass.

#my writing #supernatural #lucifer x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn lucifer #spn #spn x reader #spn lucifer x reader #supernatural lucifer x reader #besties i don't think we can “power of love” this one through

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nunalastor · 1 month

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Our Boyfriend: The Drama Series, Lucifer finds out

Lucifer wasn’t a fan of television, rots the brain you know. But he wouldn’t mind if it was a bonding activity, especially with Charlie. Honestly, he needed to shut down his brain since the whole incident with his so called brother, Michael. Alastor and him were healing together and if it’s any consolation, the incident brought them more closer together. Lucifer was just relieved he made it in time to stop Michael, like what the fuck was wrong with that guy?! Lucifer was ready to press charges and march up to Heaven himself and face Dad for what Michael tried to do with Alastor. But Alastor didn’t want to.

As Lucifer made his way to living room, he saw everyone watching the TV and they seemed so invested that Lucifer wanted to join them.

“Hey! What are you guys watching?” Angel Dust was quick to turn it off and Lucifer tilted his head in confusion. “Um, haha…why did you turn it off?”

“Oh um it just finished” Angel was looking pale and his eyes were looking around nervously towards the others.

“Hey dad, I was just wondering if you wanted to hear my new idea for bonding activities!” Charlie got up from the couch to lead Lucifer to another part of the hotel, but at a distance he could hear the TV turn on again.

This became a routine, every time Lucifer would make his way towards the group when they were watching television, they would turn it off and pretend they weren’t watching anything. Like he said before, Lucifer wasn’t into tv, but he got so curious! Like what were they hiding from him? He decided to transform into a snake and slithered around so he wouldn’t be spotted and finally could see what caught their interest.

‘Oh, it’s just some drama…this was what they didn’t want me to see?’

As the show went on, it seemed like a blossoming love story between some CEO and a red deer demon named Allan? Who almost looked a lot like Alastor, except Allan was very promiscuous and was married. To a rich asshole named Lucius who was very short. As Lucifer watched the two characters interact, it made him sick just watching them. It was like it was some kind of sick parody. Every time Lucius raised a hand or verbally abused Allan, Lucifer wanted to break the tv. It was until another character, Lucius brother Miguel, came into the story that it was suddenly clear what this show was based on. It was about him, Alastor and Michael. Right about when the scene was going to show Miguel try to rape Allan, Lucifer transformed back to his form but with the addition of his wings and horns and in front of the tv and glaring at everyone.

Lucifer was going to tear limb from limb of the person responsible for making this filth!

👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks #our boyfriend #michael #chill lute fuck #lucifer

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ganondoodle · 2 months

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Since you said it's ok to send you random ask, i've always found your "monsters" design to be really really gorgeous, and I wanted to know : in any form of media you've interacted with, what's PEAK monster design for you ?

i have been thinking about this ask alot bc ... i dont ... know? theres a problem with what counts as a monster really too, most are either some sort of anthro/furry or the horror gore type of monster that instills you more with disgust than awe

i guess theres some i really like but idk if thats what id call 'peak' (though its rarely JUST the design but their vibe and stuff too);

(its a lot of zelda.. sorry)

Eldra, Farodra and Naydra (engl Dinraal, Farosh(?)) though Eldra is def my fav one of them, i like how they are a little more less typical dragon- with the fur around the neck the floppy ears and kinda goofy face yet manage to be the most ethereal, awe inspiring creature i have ever seen in a game with how they act and are presented as (in BOTW!!! do not mention anythign sonau/zonai with stupid magic pebbles to me about them i will manifest worms into your tea)

Leunen (Lynels) (botw) -i could not find a better picture wtf, fav are white and silver ones) FINE they had some pretty neat new horn designs in totk- idk i just like them alot, rather simple if you think about it, horse lion plus horns- but its so well put together it just kinda scratches my brain in a good way (also how intelligent they clearly are, like the way they fight and act and also even their death animation is so??? huh?? you are just gonna treat them like any other mindless monste- *remmbers they treat ganondorf even even worse all things considered* .. nevermind you're good)

'Beast' Ganondorf (twilight princess) its my favorite beast ganon design (even if it technically is just kinda a man boar .. again) though if ww gan had a non puppet beast form that one would most definitely be my fav lol (i will not get over the fact that some descriptions call this a hideous beast EXCUSE ME???? WHERE???) (honorable mention here, darkbest ganon from botw, pig on fire but it looks cool as fuck)

Nimbusgarde (ww) .. (engl .. darknuts?) do i need to say anything? (i could throw alot of ww design here) not sure if it counts as monster but they are not human so ????

the pathless bosses- (here in order, Cernos, the Godslayer, and Kumo) all of them are rad as hell (except for the final version of the godslayer ... liek im sorry but it looks to boring compared to any other one lol) again not just the design but man do i love them

since i dont know what would count as a monster or no i could just list my fav characters here bfmjbfmjsbmj like radahn (elden ring) is just kinda a zombie, aurelion sol (league of legends) is a space dragon, the forest god in princess mononoke, Narisha (skyward sword- sky whale)- i could go on but this post is long already (honorable mention to Omus in nausicäa, weird bugs but also something divine, though it is much more how they are treated and the vibe etc)

in all honesty though i cant think of one that i would describe as perfect, what i want of a monster design is to be ... cool but also a little weird, big hulking monsters that have something off about them and something that makes them 'other', but also not, as much as i like bloodborne, just bloody gory messes of rotting flesh, AND not just as a monster to kill, i just crave a game or otherwiese piece of media where the cool monsters arent just there for you to kill- the perfect one i guess would be something kinda big scary weird and off but while non verbal clearly not a mindless beast?

and here is the thing; my own characters do not furfill that, my designs are really rather conservative, much to my dismay, anthro of a mix of animals, maybe an extra arm thrown in- Eadrya, one of my favorites, is really just a blueish furry (yes they have fur) and their demon form is a mix of seals and catfish with some extra arms, too many teeth and a mouth that goas wayy to far (if they want) - Shargon is a feather dude with extra arms and his demon form is really just a chinese type dragon crossed with a bird, throw some darts at the color wheel, done

together with my problem of my monster characters losing their 'otherness' vibe within the story rather fast bc the majority of my characters are non human and speak and you see them in all sorts of emotions and parts of life- they lose that divine, unknown vibe and i HATE that that happens, i want them more akin to the forest god in mononoke but thats not possible unless i start from scratch

and i really dont mean to make myself look bad to sound self depre- ... however you spell that; i really am rather dissatisfied with my own designs but mostly just roll with what i got bc i never seem to be able to actually achieve what i want

even my redesigns often really make things LESS interesting (unless maybe the og was just ... human, but they are blue eyed with golden hair and white so that makes them divine you seE-), the skyward sword dragons as i redesigned them made them much more classical dragon, in part intentional bc i was drawing a connection of them becoming the botw dragons at some point, but by all means the canon design is much more weird and unusual than what i did with them, you could apply the same to even demise, his canon design might seem a little uninspired but really what did i do? inject him with some classic satan spice like that makes it in any way less stereotypical evil demon ??? lol

im sorry this post devolved into whatever this is but i really am trying to answer sincerely, i am confused about it myself, what counts as a monster, what doesnt, there must be more that i really loved but why cant i think of them, why do i design characters like this when i really want something much more different, i dont know, i feel like my brain is in a cage, why do i keep making things less interesting in an effort to make it interesting, am i falling into the corporate trap of cool sells who am i what am i doing

(theres a zelda artist with a style so strikingly genuis in shape, color and just .. DESIGN that i want to chew my nails off bc i cannot design like them, their designs and redesigns are so different yet sensical and so full of crisp shapes i have never seen before it drives me nuts and i would want to give them a shoutout but i think they dont like me so aaaaarhekjbfhgdknbgdfklbg)

#ganondoodles answers #hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #this ask was so innocent and nice #what did i do to it #me trying to think of my favorite monster design spiraling into me realizing i am making things often more boring than the og #and in general just dont achieve what i want to even with my own creations #i have infinite possiblities of creativity at my fingertips and yet what to i draw #blue furry :)#i feel like an ant that just experienced cosmic horrors of realization #(to be clear- having infinte possibilites and yet deciding to just draw furries is FINE AND VALID if thats what you want #(do -I- want that though??????????????????????

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