princetore
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A collection of unfinished fics that were written for the ‘bluff anon’ series between 2022 and early 2024. The good, the bad, the overwritten and the poorly thought-out.
Series
- Part 7 of bluff anon
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“Do you understand why you’re being punished, sweetheart?”
“Because I’m-” Velvette yelps at another strike, legs trembling. She can hear the buckle clink in his hand and her thighs press together further on instinct, holding her pyjama bottoms up by her knees. She was told not to let them fall and the instruction clings to her like molten candy. “I’m not allowed to talk to boys.”
Or; Velvette gets a spanking. She's lucky to have a dad so protective of her.
Series
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make your girlfriend disappear by princetore for writtenwordsaloud
Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
21 Feb 2025
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What feels like every person in the room except for Vaggie and Charlie take to the backing vocals, chanting with a fervor that comes down on them like a hammer.
Once Velvette does sing, it’s with the unflinching confidence of a person whose next step is always right and whose word is always final.Hey, hey, you, you! I don't like your girlfriend
No way, no way! I think you need a new one
Hey, hey, you, you! I could be your girlfriend,
Or; Velvette’s karaoke song of choice might be a little too on the nose. Vaggie is in for a bad time.
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i love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me by princetore
Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)
26 Aug 2024
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“Owning a gun for the hell of it isn’t the same as knowing how to use it.” One hand leaves her and another slides down to grope her arse. She slaps it away absent-mindedly and tries aiming at the sheep girl’s eye for shits and giggles. Blame Vox, the looping red and black circles remind her of bullseyes. “Did you ever point it at anyone or did you just hold it to your own head to jerk off, hm?”
Or; Velvette gets shooting lessons from Valentino, and Vox likes to watch. A day in the afterlife of Hell's worst polycule.
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Vox could tell her that she’s being stupid. Vette has a dozen pillows, a weighted blanket and a white noise machine in her own room in the tower; she’d have a better shot there than here.
But she’s… choosing–to stay with him. Not for business’ sake and long after sex. Vox still doesn’t know what to do with that.
He clears his throat.
“I can help you fall asleep.”
Or; Velvette has a big day tomorrow but can't put down her phone for long enough to fall asleep. Vox suggests hypnosis as a solution, which requires some mild talking-into. Is it 'being manipulative' when she knows what he's doing and it's for a good cause?
Or; trust between villains.
Series
Recent series
Recent bookmarks
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‘Of course I’m fine, I’m fucking fine, nothing’s fucking bothering me at all,’ Angel thinks to himself as he grabs a bottle and walks past the bar into the library, where he slams the door shut and kicks a stool for good measure. He’s pulling at his hair and groaning through tight lips, and before he can understand what he’s doing, he pulls his phone out of his fluff and dials Val’s number.
Just seeing his face on the screen makes Angel’s anger boil over, spill everywhere, stain everything. After the third attempt, when Val finally picks up, Angel is seeing red.
“Angie, mi vida, how can I help you?” Val sing-songs like he didn’t have a bother in the fucking world. Angel wishes he could reach through the phone and strangle him to death.
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or, Angel gets wasted and drunk dials Val, then helps him sneak into the hotel. -
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“Besides.” And here, Alastor loomed over him more, leaning closer so that his breath tickled Husk’s ear. The sensation made Husk flutter his eyes shut. “I don’t really enjoy sweets. And neither do you.”
Someone like Alastor shouldn't even care about Valentine's Day, and neither did Husk. But when Alastor gets everyone a Valentine's gift except for him, Husk can't help but feel extremely bitter about it. He didn't know Alastor had other plans for him.
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There are many ways Charlie shows her love to the people around her. Her favorite one involves a lot of spending.
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Doctor Charlie Morningstar treats an ailing patient.
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It should’ve been a normal night. Cards. Laughter. A kiss or two.
But Husk’s kissed Angel enough times to know the difference.
Tonight’s kiss is too perfect - too neat. The lie of it hums beneath his hands.
His touch does not feel like want. It feels like survival.
And this time, Husk says no, because he knows Angel won’t.Excerpt:
“I’m sorry,” Angel pulls his legs underneath himself, sits down with his knees folded tight, stays right where he is, “I thought you would want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Husk immediately says, “Christ, you come out there looking like a dream on legs and I wouldn’t want to? You don’t want to.”