Labour
Requested by: hisxlover
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Your fingers ached from the pain of being burned and covered in hot boiling oil as punishment.
One, two three,
Tears threatened to slip from your eyes as you gently turned the knob of the bathtub, running cold water over the burns and boils.
Why are you hanging on so tight
To the ropes that I'm hanging from?
Off this ring, this was an escape plan (this was an escape plan)
Carefully timed it, so let me go
And dive back into the waves below
A fitting punishment crimson had said, watching with glee as he poured the hot oil over your hands, turning them a shade darker than yourself.
Who tends to the orchards? Who fixes up the house?
Emotional torture from the head of your high table,
Who fetches the fresh water from the well?
And walk back inside to feel your words and their sharp sting,
And I'm getting so fuckin' tired...
You pulled back, blowing lightly on the burns as the stinging sensation slowly came back. You hated it here, you had the chance to run with your son, run to the pride ring and change yours and your son's name. But you hesitated, and this was the outcome.
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
For somebody I thought was my savior
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour,
You sighed out, tail sore as it laid still on the floor behind you, the bones in it sticking out. Crimson had grabbed a hold of your tail during your attempted escape with moxxie, yanking you back by it before snapping it back painfully.
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking,
If our love ended, would that be a bad thing?
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
You make me do too much labour
Moxxie came up behind you, sniffling gently as he sat down next to you. Leaning his head against your legs, wrapping his small tail around the tip of yours.
You make me do too much labour
Looking down you gave a soft smile. Moxxie returning it with a tearful look as he hugged the stuffy close to his chest as the door above yous slammed shut.
Apologies from my tongue, and never yours
Busy lapping from flowing cup and shooting with your gun
I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man), and weaponise
The false incompetence, it's dominance under a guise
Leaning down you scooped up moxxie, holding him close to your chest.
If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her
The emotional torture, from the head of your high table
She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate
So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake
At least I've gotta try
Your tail twitched lightly as it dragged along the basement floor as you moved to lean against a cleaner part of the basement wall.
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
For somebody I thought was my savior
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour,
Moxxie closed his eyes for a second, relishing in the warmth you gave off and the silence that came with it.
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking,
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
You make me do too much labour...
Your ran your fingers through moxxie's white hair, inherited from His father. His legs were bent lie yours, his horns curved like crimson's.
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant,
just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
24-7, baby machine
So he can live out his picket fence dreams,
It's not an act of love if you make her
You make me do too much labour
Thank Satan he didn't have crimson's sour disposition, moxxie wasn't much of a talker either so you couldn't Tell whether or not crimson had been abusing him while you were out of town searching for work.
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid,
Nymph then a virgin, nurse and a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
24-7, baby machine
So he can live out his picket fence dreams,
It's not an act of love if you make her
You make me do too much labour
Your hands rubbed up and down his back, soothing him softly as loud thuds shook the floor above you shake and creak.
All day, every day, therapist, mother maid,
(The capillaries in my eyes are bursting)
Nymph then a virgin, nurse and a servant,
(If our love died, would that be the worst thing?)
Just an appendage, live to attend him
(For somebody I thought was my savior)
So he never lifts a finger
(You sure make me do a whole lot of labour)
The basement door opened and the stairs creaked under the weight of crimson's feet, his tail twitching as it dragged down the stairs.
24-7, baby machine
(The calloused skin on my hands is crackin')
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
(If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?)
It's not an act of love if you make her
(And the silence haunts our bed chamber)
You make me do too much labour
"Oh, now, now, it's not so bad. I did it out of love." Crimson cooed, cupping your cheek gently.
"Now, I'll give you time to think about what you've done, while you're doing that I'm going to teach moxxie how to handle a gun."
Crimson huffed out, picking moxxie up by the arm dragging him out of the basement leaving you alone in the dark.
Word count 1002
YOU ARE READING
hazbin hotel/helluva boss x reader one-shots (On Hold)
FanfictionI'm doing this for the fourth time in a row.
