↳ ❝ [ INSANITY ] ❞
━ yandere alastor x fem! reader
┕ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, (y/n) dies and for some
strange reason, reincarnates as a
cat in the hazbin hotel universe,
not realizing the consequences
of capturing a...
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【 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 】
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"Holy shit!" Velvette exclaimed, shooting up from where she was sitting on the couch within her portion of the V Tower upon Vox appearing from her TV, tossing aside her phone to immediately kneel beside him. "What the fuck happened to you?" Her gaze then caught on the bleeding wound on his leg, blinking in aghast as she continued, "You're hurt? What the actual fuck, Vox?"
"She... had an angelic weapon," Vox grunted out as he walked with Velvette's assistance towards the couch, collapsing onto the cushions with a hiss of pain. "She was waiting for me."
"That fucking cat was able to get her hands on an angelic weapon?" Velvette ran a hand through her curly, multicolored hair of pink, blue, and white. "I knew she was a crazy bitch when you first told me about her and when you brought her here twice, but now I know for sure."
"You're only realizing that now?" Vox scoffed, his jaw tightening as he pulled up his pant leg.
Velvette let out a small chuckle at his words, but when seeing the gaping hole in his leg, her smile fell flat. As Vox grumbled indiscernibly underneath his breath at both the pain and the inconvenience of being hurt, Velvette gathered the medicinal supplies that was needed to somewhat patch Vox together until he could be transported to a proper hospital. He wasn't bleeding much, meaning no major artery was hit, but she knew he needed stitches so he could heal faster.
Her eyes dulled as she set to work, cleaning up the blood and wrapping his leg despite the amount of cuss words that slipped from his lips.
"So," she finally hummed. "Did you do it?"
"Do what?" He groaned, an arm slung over his eyes as if to shield him from everything.
"Did you kill her?"
Vox's lips twitched at her question, his entire expression seeming to crack at just the mere mention of (Y/N)'s death. It was true that he had seen the spear go through her chest, and it was true that he had seen her fall to the floor in a pool of her own blood, but he didn't see her eyes glaze over nor the breaths from her body halt. A part of him loathed the idea of her having survived, yet at the same time, a part of him hoped she had.
