Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." you grimaced at the thought, slamming your hands on the table in opposition.

This didn't deter your owner, your keeper, the "man" who held your soul on a chain, Alastor. With nothing but a wide, knowing grin, he stared you down, right back down into your seat where you slumped in defeat. Husk looked over at you sympathetically, he knew what it was like to be bossed around and intimidated by the radio demon, but there was little he could do besides his sympathetic glances and the gentle touch of your knee he extended under the table. A familiar gesture, one shared between you when Alastor was being unrelentingly and sparklingly demanding.

"Now now, Y/n, he's not a terrorist to anything other than the sacred art of entertainment." Alastor peered down, literally sticking his nose up at you. He never sat when telling you what to do, he never blinked, either. Not when he was serious like this. "Vox has made it his prerogative to raise hell upon this hotel-- my hotel-- as far as he's concerned, and that just won't do" he shook his head for effect, a candid jollity about the situation that didn't fool you in the slightest. 

You folded your arms, not daring to move out of your seat again "Then why not just kill him? It isn't like you couldn't, you whooped his ass before-- why not now?" there wasn't any room for discussion, however, and you were careful not to question Alastor too harshly, lest you inspire a new broadcast. 

Alastor tsk-ed and shook his head to the floor "Come now, surely you know I don't have to explain myself to you." he leaned forward onto his microphone, he was always posing, always stage-ready. It was unnerving. "All I need from you--" he leaned across the table and booped you with the microphone "--is to strike a deal with Vox that ensures whatever issue he has with me stays far away from the hotel."

He said it like it was so simple. Like getting the fucking TV OVERLORD-- who ran like a million business under the parent company VoxTek-- would agree to jack shit from a leashed dog like you. "Do I get any chips? Any collateral? Alastor- what am I supposed to give him in return??" you folded your arms on the table, staring up at the demon with a glaring inquisition. 

"That's your business, my good man. Whatever you have to offer." Alastor shrugged, spinning his cane and landing both hands on top. He looked to Husk and jerked his head, motioning for him to go. Husk patted your shoulder as he left the room, shutting the door behind him with a grumble. Alastor would deal with Husk's grumbling later, but for now, he had you to deal with.

He continued with a keen smile "You have nothing to offer on my behalf except the promise that I won't tear him wire from blasphemous wire." the demon nudged you off the table with his cane, leading you to the door of the hotel "You know the address, I expect good news by supper!" He gave a wide smile, if it had been from anyone but Alastor it might have even seemed encouraged. The door shut, leaving you out on the front steps of the hotel with nothing but the clothes on your back and your phone. 

"GPS.... VoxTek....."

You pulled your hand to your temple "No, sir, please-- I'm not here to murder anybody, and no I'm not here for the male model position and--" I swatted away the assistant hand "--I am NOT here to--" you moved your hands into air quotes " 'Join Val's harem' okay? I'm here to speak with Vox and I don't care WHAT you have to say or do to make that happen." you put you hands up defensively and let out a low, guttural sigh. You didn't want to resort to this. "I'm Alastors... representative. Tell him I'm here for-" A certain demon's voice cut you off over the answering machine.

"YOU'RE ALASATORS WHAT?!" Vox's voice screeched, glitched to all hell, and barely intelligible. A nearby surveillance camera sparked with blue electricity, and Vox stood before you, breathing so hard you thought he might explode. The demon was practically shaking, with fear or rage you weren't sure. Call it a mix of both. You shrunk into yourself slightly, looking up at the tall tv-head. He composed himself to the best of his abilities, gritting out "Why are you here?" through the glitching on his screen.

You held out a hand, straightening your back and-- per your boss's continuous instruction-- armed yourself with a candid smile "My name is y/n, and I'm here to talk..." I spoke slowly and steadily, as if trying not to scare off a feral animal "More accurately, my boss sent me here to make you a deal." You had to steel your nerves to uphold the imposing smile, and you briefly wondered if Alastor's cheeks hurt from doing this all the time. 

Vox wasn't mollified but took your hand anyway. He straightened his back as well and put his free arm behind his back. Upon your introduction, the nerve-wracking effect of your employer wore off, and he was able to (mostly) switch gears back into his regular persona. He maneuvered the handshake to kiss the back of your hand, releasing it and moving his other arm being his back. "I see... Well, it's a pleasure to meet you! Let's get up to a meeting room, shall we?" He turned sharply to the assistant "Felix, be a doll and send up some refreshments" he turned his attention back to you, scanning you up and down dramatically "You strike me as a sweets kind of guy-- some Baked Alaska, maybe? That was my favorite when I was alive." without any warning, the tv demon but a hand on your upper back and led you to the nearby elevator. He shot a knowing look at the assistant-- Felix-- and pushed the bottom-most button.

As the elevator doors closed the situation dawned on you. Alastor had left you in an elevator, going to a creepy basement, with one of the most powerful sinners in hell, alone. 

There was a good chance you died today. Again. AGAIN? Fu-hu-uccckkkk

The elevator door opened and you were led through a weird tv-filled Batcave into a glass-walled meeting room surrounded by water. You observed the robotic sharks just a few feet away nervously, nobody told you to be worried about sharks. Nobody ever warned you about sharks. Vox removed his hand, finding his way to the head seat. "Go ahead, sit, make yourself comfortable" He motioned across the table with an inviting devil-may-care attitude. 

You sat across the table, not wanting to give him any power in the seating chart as the "head of the table." Right to business, no mind games. You folded your hands on the table

"Alastor would like me to arrange it so you will leave the Hazbin Hotel and its residents alone-- barring Alastor, who you may pursue outside of the Hotel's grounds." the tone was formal and cold, but not hostile. Perfect. 

Vox was unimpressed, raising an eyebrow at you "What do I get in return? Not targeting Alastor on his home base... that's a pretty big loss, why would I do that?" his smile widened as the screen tilted, imploring you to answer. 

It was a tricky territory, and you knew it. Coming off too strong and going for intimidating might threaten him, and you had no power of your own, it would be child's play to call your bluff. You gathered what little composure you had and gave it your best sell "The Radio Demon, in exchange for your neutrality regarding the Hazbin Hotel and its residents, will refrain from attacking you..." there was a small pause, you thought carefully "Uhhh... unless provoked." You nodded regally, as if ending your turn in a game of chess. The demon's smile faltered, only slightly, before returning bigger than ever. 

"Well, that's a... tempting offer, but I don't think it's enough. I mean w-who says I can't beat the radio demon?" he laughed out, a facade of arrogance consuming him. He dropped his smile "No, no. That's not enough. I want something that'll really piss him off." It was unclear if he was talking to you or to himself at this point, as he stood up and began to pace back and forth. He tapped his sharp claws on the glass of his face. He stopped mid-pace and observed you out of the corner of his eye, turning slowly to face you. 

Checkmate.

"You'll work for me. As....." he had an incoming call from Velvette. Vox's shoulders stiffened as the ringing continued "Ah--! One second." he turned away from you, answering the call and projecting it onto the glass. 

The social media overlord popped onto the glass, a frustrated look spread across her face "Vox, my best and ONLY male model- Just- Fucking- Quit." her voice was full of frustration, borderline brimming with venom "Apparently that horny moth-bag has been harassing him and he's staying in CARMILLA'S corner of town now."

Her arm shifted, the camera moving her out of frame. You could hear her throwing what sounded like a coat hanger, resulting in the pitiful cry of an unknown girl. Velvette returned to the screen, pissed "MELISSA-- PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!!" She roared, directing her attention back to Vox "So I don't care what you do, who you need to threaten, or who you need to pay, but I need a male model for my upcoming collection and I need one nowww." the demon hissed, hanging up before Vox could get a word in. 

Vox turned back to you, his moment of bravado soured by the interruption. He cleared his throat and straightened his bow tie. "So, I'll agree to let this Haz-bin Ho-tel alone if the old windbag plays nice and..." he scanned you, raising an eyebrow skeptically "and if you'll model for Velvette until I can find someone more professional. Let's say... oh I don't know... six months?" 

The whole ordeal had shaken up your idea of the overlord, seeing him be yelled at worse than Vaggie yelled at you struck a chord in you. Something almost sympathetic. But not sympathetic enough. "I'll do this.... modeling thing, but only for two weeks." You stood up. Seeing the TV demon be talked down to-- and furthermore seeing his complete docility in response-- gave you the gall you needed to appropriately negotiate.

The demon in question was having none of it. He stepped around the table and closer to you. He towered over you, in a familiar attempt at intimidation. They really were hilariously similar sometimes, no wonder they bickered so. Regardless, Vox's intimidating stature led to a counteroffer "Five months." 

"Three weeks."

"Three months..."  He paused for emphasis "-and you have to let Velvette manage your social media and attend business parties on our behalf." 

"Two months, and I let Velvette make me a NEW penstagram that she can manage to her heart's content." 

"One month, Velvette manages new social media, and you attend the parties." 

"..." You smiled affably and stuck out a hand "I'd say we have a deal." 

He took your hand and shook it roughly, clearly fed up with the whole ordeal.

"I look forward to working with you." he led you back to the elevator, pushing the button for you as you stood alone. "We'll be in touch."

"I'm gonna kill myself I swear to gooooodddddddddd" you groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch at the Hotel. You crashed right into Angel Dust's lap, earning a flirty wink from him and a tired eye-roll from you as you sat up.

"Went that bad, did it?" Husk inquired, bringing you a drink from the bar.

You pounded it back like it was nothing and slammed it onto the coffee table. You looked over at Angel, who hadn't been filled in on your daily activities "Alastor sent me to fucking VoxTek to... get this... NEGOTIATE WITH TERRORISTS!!" you threw a hand in the air "Keep em coming, Husk!" 

Angel's face contorted into a grimace. He put a hand on your shoulder, gesturing with the other three "Well you made it back in one piece, so it musta went well, yeah?" his tone was hesitant but optimistic, and you appreciated the gesture.

Husk handed you another drink which you took a sip of-- Whoo-- it was strong. "Actually, yeah, for you guys." you sighed, taking another sip of the strong beverage. The hell did Husk put in this? "I got him to agree to leave the Hotel alone, no more spies, none of that shit. And he's not gonna kidnap and ransom any of us to get to Al, either."

You took a finishing sip, waving the glass in the air for Husk, who grumbled and refilled it. "Thank you, precious. But-- as I was saying!" you threw your arms up in frustration "I gotta do this modeling thing for like-- a month! For Velvette. It's this whole fucking thing, social media, partie-" you were cut off by Angel's horrified gasp

"You're getting roped into the parties? Aw shit.... that sucks..." he trailed off, grabbing your drink and taking a swig of it. You glared at him but encouraged him to explain his reaction. "I dunno, they're these creepy sleazy events. Val always makes me go to em and look all pretty and shit. It's a real depressing shit show if you ain't one of the people to impress." he leaned lazily into the back of the couch "I dunno, y/n, they're just not something I'd be jazzed to go to." 

"I'm not jazzed about any of this..." You leaned into the couch as well, holding a throw pillow between your arms "But I did my job and now I can sleep easy. At least we can go to the parties together, yeah?" you shot an affectionate, questioning glance at Angel, who nodded in the affirmative.

Husk leaned between you two from behind the couch "And I'll be here so you can bitch about it afterward." he was insulting you both, but the quick kiss pressed to Angel's head, and his small, tired smile was telling. "Now get up, Alastor made dinner" 

You and Angel looked at Husk from on the couch "Hold up, Alastor made dinner?" you twisted around, standing up and walking over to Husk "It's not raw deer, is it? Vaggie told me she's seen him eat that shit and it smells horrendous."

The bartender shrugged "I dunno but it smells pretty good" he held out a hand, which was quickly taken by the white spider demon. Husk left the room with Angel on his arm, the two of them heading to the dining room. 

You were about to join them when you got an alert on your phone. Weird, could've sworn your ringer was off...

'Tomorrow. 9 am. Tell Felix you're here for the modeling position and meet Velvette in the foyer. See you soon. -- Vox'

...ahhhh shit. You tucked the phone back into your pocket, that would be a problem you dealt with after dinner. 

For now, the smell of gumbo was hitting you strong and something told you it would be a good dinner. After all, you had good news. 

Chapter Text

The hotel dining room was bigger than necessary, intended to host your current population ten times over. It was a vast hall, slightly intimidating in its echo, but it was home, and it smelled palpably of gumbo. People talked over each other, having their own conversations and cutting in on each other's at times. Say what you will but it was always exciting in the hotel. 

You sat next to Husk, who had Angel on his other side gesturing wildly with his arms. He was illustrating a battle for Niffty, who listened with bated breath. Well, she would have if she wasn't interrupting every fourth word, interjecting with questions and comments like it was her job. Vaggie and Charlie were chatting amongst themselves, with a lighthearted, loving air between them.

You exhaled and leaned your cheek against Husk's shoulder, catching his attention. "Come on, I know you're bummed but it's dinner, get up and go get a bowl." he nudged you off of him, swiping your elbows off the table. He always knew just how to coax you into things, subtle. Whatever.

You shrugged and wandered through the dining room, into the kitchen, where Alastor was stirring a large pot. "Ah! Y/n, good to see you! Gumbo?" he summoned a bowl and poured you a healthy portion "It's my mother's recipe, it's got crawfish, shrimp, chicken, sausage--" 

"Alastor." your voice was tempered, streamlined, completely flat but boiling with frustration underneath. It was a warning that you weren't in the mood for his shit. You'd worked your ass off, faced up against a literal fucking overlord, and he was offering you gumbo. Fuck-- it smelled good. You snatched the bowl, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and tucked in. "You know-" you spoke through a mouth full of literally the best gumbo you'd ever had, waving the spoon around for emphasis "I made a deal today. Went good." you shoveled another bite into your mouth, narrowing your eyes at the radio demon, who was completely unphased.

He stood against the counter, his hands folded on his microphone. "Oh yes, the television man. How is he? Still acting on sheer folly or did he finally collect some common sense." the demon checked his nails, his tone dripping with second-hand condescension. You knew he hated Vox with everything in him, and that the deal terms would upset him. Vox had explicitly intended for it to piss him off, and it would do just that. 

"Yes sir, the deal went fine. He's agreed to stay away from the hotel." you gritted your teeth, tensing in your shoulders as you set the empty bowl down on the counter. "The TV Demon agreed to leave our hotel alone. On a few... conditions."

Alastor quirked an eyebrow, his obnoxiously effervescent smile taunting you. "Well do tell! Don't leave me guessing, what did you trade?" His eyes narrowed. It was a threat, a silent 'Don't you dare have done something stupid' that made your blood curdle.

It wasn't as if you could undo what you'd done, and Alastor would have to find out before you left for "work" tomorrow. Taking a deep breath, you explained. "Well, of course with the condition that you won't instigate any attacks against him. And uh... I have to work for him... for a month." You muttered the last bit, getting progressively quiet as you turned away, folding your arms defensively. 

The Radio demon's eyes widened, his smile contorting into its most malicious form "Ha Ha- What?" he tilted his head, like an animal observing its prey before going in for the kill "That's absurd. You work for me. I own you, silly duck." he laughed, ruffling the top of your head with a tensed, clawed hand.  "You can't work for that buffoon."

"I already made the deal, Alastor. The deal you sent me to make. " You brushed his hand off your head, shrinking further into your defensive stance "It'll keep the hotel safe-- it's only for a month. It isn't like he can make me do anything to hurt you. That would go against our deal." 

Alastor considered the ramifications, mulling over the situation behind his tense smile. This could be bad, he knew Vox and he knew Vox would get too much of a kick out of ordering around his subordinates. It could be hell for you, he wasn't worried about that, but it could be bad for him. The radio demon considered the different variables, it was true that you'd already agreed to it. 

He finally concluded, shrugging with a devil-may-care smile "Alrighty, what's done is done!"

"Okay... I start tomorrow. I'll still be around, I think." You made eye contact, slowly easing out of your nerve-wracked state "I don't know what's going to happen." 

The demon eyed you up and down. You were dressed in a similar uniform to Husk, one that wasn't characterized as being of any particular allegiance. That would have to change. Alastor clapped his hands together "Well, see to it that you wear that lovely red number tomorrow. I've got some arrangements to prepare, make sure leftovers get put up." 

You nodded in the affirmative, going to pack up the gumbo. Afterward, you bid a quick goodnight to the residents of the Hotel and headed upstairs to your room. You would need all the sleep you could get before going into this. 

Seven in the morning. An alarm you didn't remember setting rung incessantly even after pressing snooze. You eventually threw your phone across the room, only increasing in volume. The wall must've hit the volume button.... You dragged yourself out of bed and rubbed your eyes. You looked a right proper mess and knew better than to represent on Alastor's behalf-- or show up to work-- looking that rough. It took an hour for you to shower, brush your teeth and hair, and get your outfit on. The "Red number" you'd been instructed to wear looked an awful lot like Alastor's suit, the key differences being a distinct lack of a jacket and a long black tie instead of a bowtie. You tugged at the collar, trying to get it to fold over the collar of the tie. Hopefully whatever you'd be wearing would be comfier than this...

It didn't take long to get to VoxTek, even if you included the brief detour to grab a coffee, which you did. You stood in front of VoxTek at 8:55 AM, unsure of how to proceed. What boss didn't like it when a new employee was early? That's what you were, after all. This would be a long month if you were branded as late on the first day. What better way to avoid being late than to be early? It made sense to you. Reaching forward, you pushed through the front doors into the main lobby of VoxTek. And there he was...

Felix. 

Jesus Christ, not this guy 

"Good Morning... Felix." You forced a smile, remembering your boss's most repeated mantra. If you didn't feel dressed before, you certainly didn't now. "I'm here for uh...." you glanced at the text from Vox "I'm here for the modeling position? With Velvet?" Glancing up, you observed Felix's face.

The shark demon assistant's eyes widened.

He shuffled some papers in order, pushing up his glasses. "O-Oh! You're... here from yesterday?" He tilted his head, his expression unreadable. This lasted all of a second before his indiscernible expression pushed into a bright smile "I'm so glad! I was a little worried, you seemed freaked out when you left!" He turned from you to face his computer, typing something before scrolling for a minute. "Ah! Here we go!" he printed out a map onto a sheet of paper, handing it to you while the paper was still warm. "You're gonna want to go here..." he leaned across the front desk and pointed to a room on the map with a pen, leaning over to circle it. "That's where Miss Velvet's main foyer is. You're expected, someone will greet you there." His smile was warm and infectious, even if the sharp rows of teeth were a little off-putting. 

"Ah... thank you, Sir..." You extended an awkward hand, which he shook gladly.

"Oh none of that, we're like a family here!" The Shark demon was positively beaming. He released your hand and rubbed his neck "Us little guys gotta stick together. You just let me know if you need anything. I work with all the Vee's, so if you need directions or someone's email, I'm your guy." He was a refreshing bout of positivity, you were sure Charlie would like him. 

Felix checked the clock on his screen and freaked. "Ahhhhh--- It's 9!" He paced around the desk, pushing you by the back in the right direction "You gotta go! Velvet killed the last model who was late for a shoot." He gave you a final push as you turned to look at him. "Good luck!" He waved encouragingly as he made his way back to the desk. You would have to hurry to avoid being in even more trouble. 

"Okay, so I should go up here and left here...." Eventually, with the help of Felix's map, you found your way to Velvet's foyer. It was crowded, stuffed with models, photographers, hair stylists, and seamstresses going in and out. In the center of the room was another "front" desk, managed by a cool-eyed poodle demon. She made eye contact with you, her cool demeanor crumbling into one of sheer panic.

"You're the new male model!!" she yelled, hurdling over the desk with ease-- despite her long skirt-- and running to you. She put her paws on your shoulders and shook you before pushing you god knows where. "You were supposed to be here four minutes ago!!" the poor woman spiraled, you could hear her blood pressure rise as she shoved you through crowds of models like a meat shield. Eventually, the pushing got too slow and she began to pull you behind her. After about thirty seconds of this, you were positioned in front of a big set of pink double doors. The poodle lady exhaled in relief, straightening your tie and adjusting your hair "Apologize, grovel if you have to, don't say stupid shit." she paused, looking askew before making intense eye contact "Good luck." 

You pushed open the doors, them slamming behind you. Gravity's work, surely. You briefly worried that you had entered the wrong room, a swivel chair faced away from you, rampant rambling filling the room.

"Yes Vox, It's 9:05. He's late. No darling, I'm not doubting you, I'm just saying that I don't work with slobs..." she paused "Agh- He's unprofessional! I know you have your shit with the old radio bitch, but does it have to affect my work? Is he even hot?" another pause, one following by a much more pleased tone "Reeeeaaaaally? That good, huh? Alright darling, you know I trust your judgment. If he's as pretty as you say, I'll make it work. Now shoo, I think Bebe is here with my coffee. Ta-ta doll." the swivel chair spun, revealing the social media overlord, Velvet.

Awkwardly, you stayed in place by the front door, clutching your cup of coffee like a saving grace.

"Oh, my, shit! You must be Y/n, is that my coffee?" Velvet pointed at the cup, not waiting for an answer before she grabbed the cup and took a long sip. Her face soured as she threw it away "Hell, tell Bebe I like my coffee much blacker when you leave. Stupid mutt can hardly get a proper cup of coffee..." she wiped her mouth with her arm-covers, retouching her lipstick. 

You could hardly think of what to say. You'd seen her shred Vox just yesterday, and if the TV demon wasn't keen on talking back, you'd have to keep your attitude close to your chest. You stood in silence, waiting for Velvet to prompt you.

The social media overlord looked you up and down, boosting herself up onto the table, and crossing her legs as she examined you. She tsk-ed, shaking her head. The demon gestured to your presence with a vague, splayed hand "You've got a good figure, unique facial features, big fan of the hair.." she sharply inhaled, pulling her hand into a hesitant fist "...But those clothes make me want to off myself. Actually." She kicked her leg a little, tilting her head playfully and changing your outfit with a swish of a finger. She alternated between a few outfits, mostly ones that would be better suited to Angel Dust. She came to a similar conclusion, finally settling on a more classical outfit, leaning wholly into the pink and purples she herself was known for.

"God, finally, out of those hideous reds." the demon admired her work, hopping off the table and strutting over. She swished her finger and the sides cuffs of your button-up became adorned with pink metallic V cufflinks "There, perfect. I'm brilliant!" she nodded her head, gesturing for you to speak. 

You looked down at the outfit, it was the most cool-toned outfit you'd ever worn, but it fit like a glove and you looked damn good. A hand through your scalp confirmed that she'd even magic-ed your hair into a carefully coiffed bed-head look. You must've looked as good as you felt because she gave herself a self-congratulating, incredibly smug smile. 

"Alrighty, fashion show over, we have a photo shoot." The demoness threw the doors open, turning to glance at you over her shoulder "Please try and keep up, those bitch models are vicious, if you get lost they'll eat you alive." something about her tone made it hard to discern if she was joking. Regardless, you followed close behind as she led you to an elevator. Up the elevator, onto an even higher floor. The doors opened to reveal a photo studio.

Velvet strolled through the studio, beelining for the photographer. "Christopher, this is Y/n, you'll be shooting him today." She grabbed the photographer by the collar, yanking him to her level "If you pull that shit you pulled with Angel, I'll have you hamstrung across the marquee." her tone was venomous. The photographer nodded quickly, breathing heavily as she released him from her grasp. Velvet smiled knowingly, putting her hands on her hips "Great. We need material for his Penstagram, as well as his Voxstagram" she sighed, rolling her eyes "Even though nobody uses it." She shook her head, waving her hand dismissively "Regardless. The image I want to project is cool and classic, but chic. Y/n is 'one of the people', not the unattainable sex symbol that Angel is, but someone approachably hot that you'll buy garbage from." 

The photographer nodded, moving to a room full of furniture. He grabbed the attention of who you presumed to be his assistants. It was intriguing watching the trio assemble a set for you. 

"Good luck, kisses." Velvet smacked your shoulder, passing you and descending in the elevator. You had been left alone with the perverse photographer and his uncomfortably blank assistants. 

The things you did for your soul...

Vox typed aggressively, fanatically, obsessively. It was hard work keeping the Vees afloat. Angelic Security was turning out to be a bitch, with only two months until Extermination Day, Vox had been working overtime past his regular overtime. He swore he was starting to get dark circles, despite his lack of vascular networking. The TV demon's work was interrupted by the uncomfortable feeling of his face ringing. 

Incoming call from Velvet. Shit. What did she want now? 

He pulled the call to a nearby monitor as Velvet appeared on the screen. "Vox! Darling, I underestimated you. He's gorgeous, he'll work perfectly." she was in a jolly good mood, a rarity with the social media demon. Her smile was conniving and sly, but a smile not the least bit disingenuous. "He came in these ratty reds, but I got him into some purples and Vox. My God. You should have seen it." her smile contorted into a smug smirk "I worked my magic for sure. You should stop by the floor 4 studio before he leaves at five." Vox mulled it over, he should be done with his current issue before then, and he would have time to stop by. 

"Alright Velvet, I'll go admire your hard work. Thank you for being a team player." his smile was forced, but his companion didn't notice. She never did, or if she did, she never said anything. He supposed he was grateful for that. 

"Perfect. I'm due at Zeezi's for dinner. She wants me to bring the scene back in fashion, and I don't have the patience to pretend it's happening. Bye darling!" the demoness hung up with a smile, leaving Vox alone with his thoughts.

He looked at his screen, finishing his diagnostic of their revenue. The TV Demon emailed the results to Felix, along with specific instructions. The shark demon could figure out the rest from there. 

The demon would have done it himself, but he had a visit to pay. 

"Christopher, I think we've already done a club picture, why are we doing another one?" you asked, hanging over the edge of a fake bar counter, a hand holding a forming headache.

The photographer shook his head "No No, mon cheri, that was a dive bar, this scene will be a high-class cocktail mixer." he spoke as if the difference was obvious to anyone but him. His lackeys nodded in completely braindead agreement. 

You groaned, pulling yourself off the counter and straightening your back. A long, tired exhale exited your lips "Christopher, I'm going to kill myself if we keep up like this. I've been here for almost eight hours..." 

"Oh don't do that! You have a deal to uphold." A glitchy, charismatic voice filled the room preemptively. The TV Demon appeared through an electric bolt shot from a nearby surveillance camera. The demon admired the set before him, taking special care to admire the model before him. He'd done this. He'd set this into motion. Good for him. 

You folded your hands in front of your stomach politely "Excuse me, I'm just a bit tired." you looked away, the perfect model of etiquette. Alastor had taught you to never make eye contact with those in high positions of power, not when you already fared at a disadvantage. 

Vox waved his hand, taking in your appearance "Nonsense, that's understandable. Your apology is frivolous." He tilted his screen to see Christopher "Get me a coffee, my good man. Two, actually. One black and..." he turned to you "However he takes his." 

"A splash of cream and three sugars, please." it gave you a strange sense of vindication to order around the photographer who'd made you contort into endless uncomfortable poses for the better part of your day. The demon left with a bowed head, his assistants following close behind. "Thank you. It's appreciated."

He laughed with an indelibly cheesy quality. It was about as real as Angel's accent, a horrifying secret you'd learned from rooming next door to Husk. "Of course, wouldn't want to make this a miserable experience for you. You're one of ours now, we treat our employees well." the demon looked askance, and you both knew that was a lie. Vox needed to make you want to stay, to make you crave working for Vox. Well.. not him in particular, but the Vee's. It would be the ultimate insult to Alastor. Vox had originally attempted to steal Alastor's bitch, but the bitchless overlord's aromantic asexuality threw a wrench into his plan. If he couldn't have Alastor's nonexistent lover, he could have the next best thing: His right-hand man. It helped that you looked so damn good in purples. Vox couldn't help but wonder how you'd look in blues.

"You look nice." Was the most of his thoughts he allowed to be spoken. He extended a clawed hand, allowing you to hesitantly take it. You were unsure of what was about to occur. You'd been pushed and pulled around all day and awaited much the same. The overlord smiled down at you, guiding you in a slow, pretty turn. He got a full look at your uh... outfit.... and couldn't help but admire what he saw. Talk all the shit he wants, Alastor knew how to pick 'em. Vox cursed the radio demon in his head, such a pretty thing and he didn't even appreciate it. 

"Thank you, Vox." you pulled at the tight-fitted vest "I prefer my original clothes, though." It was tempting to fall into it all, to get wrapped up in this life of creepy photographers and playing dress-up. But you lived in the real world, the harsh Hell that left your soul in Alastor's claws. You belonged to him and nary a soul in hell had the slightest capability of wrenching you from his iron grip. You were good at your job, you regretted your utility with every fetch quest and dangerous task you were sent on. A relatively peaceful photoshoot didn't change your fate, and neither did the warm smile of the TV overlord, especially when you could smell how fake he was. 

Vox soured at your preference. He was unsure of how anybody could prefer the ill-fitting assault on the eyes that Alastor called an outfit. It reeked of the Radio Demon, outdated and gaudy, rejecting modern convention for a relic that didn't belong on your body. "Maybe I could give the fashion show a try?" His tone was jovial, almost playful in nature. The demon's smile was wide and sly.

You waved a hand to multiple racks of clothes. You'd cycled through every article of clothing at least twice today. "Fine by me. As long as it isn't something stupid." you took a precarious seat on the short prop couch, crossing your leg over your knee as you observed the TV demon. You knew what he was playing at with his kindness, with his attention. You weren't, however, sure what the demon stood to gain from playing dress up. Certainly not your affection. You watched him sift through the racks, a small collection of articles on hangers draped over his forearm as he searched. 

"Here we go!" Vox lit up, shoving a bundle of hangers and clothing into your arms as you stood up. "Go on, I'll be here." Vox took your place on the couch, playing himself across the loveseat. He had a hand propped on the armrest, holding his screen with intrigue as you changed in a dressing room.

Oh, he has got to be kidding. 

Vox and Alastor would get along so well if they weren't well... them... They had the same assertive gimmicks. It was annoying to be caught in the middle of two grown men's turf war, but the black and electric blue suit you were wearing was a testament to your involvement. 

"VOX-- ahem... I look ridiculous." You glowered, opening the door to the dressing room. The pinks and purples you could live with, but blue was a lot of things. It was cold, it was offputting, it was basically blasphemous and you thought of what Alastor's reaction would be. You shuddered. Hard. 

The TV demon looked up from his phone, a look of subtle astonishment appearing on his screen. He tucked his phone into his pocket and swapped his crossed legs. "Wowwww, Y/n, you look so good." he cocked his head, a genuine face of awe replaced quickly and forcefully with a powerful smirk. "Blue really is your color! You're wasted in red, dear." 

"..." you rolled your eyes, tugging at the vest. What was with these people and modern, bodycon silhouettes? Surely a looser fit wouldn't kill all the attraction you inspired. The TV Demon made his way over from the couch and you were twirled once again, this time with a bit more enthusiasm. 

Christopher stood inside the elevator, the doors opening with a 'ping'. In his hands, he held two coffees. He looked completely starstruck at the scene he'd stumbled onto. "Oh! My goodness, this is perfect!" he set the coffee on a nearby prop table, quickly adjusting his camera. "Go do that on the set, you look gorgeous together!" He stopped himself, realizing that amongst his enthusiasm, he'd ordered around his boss, one of the most powerful demons in hell. "Ah.... forgive me sir." the photographer apologized sheepishly. 

Vox looked between you and the cameraman. Nothing to piss off the radio demon like this. "Come on, Y/n, it'll be good press." He stripped off his jacket, taking a position on the loveseat. 

You were dumbstruck. This was ridiculous, this was insane. Was this what Angel was so tired about all the time? (Honey you have no idea...) You did as instructed and took a seat next to Vox on the couch. "What now? I can't twirl on the couch..." You looked away, waiting for the typical asinine instructions you'd gotten from Christopher all morning. 

"I don't know... act natural! You have such great chemistry" he put his eye up to the camera, adjusting the lens' focus "You look perfect together, especially in the outfit. Blue is your color, y/n" 

Vox smirked at you, and you cursed Christopher for his unintentionally cutting remark. Not helping, Christopher. The TV demon stretched an arm behind you on the couch, resting it across your shoulder. His ankle rested on his knee as he splayed across the couch, twirling a piece of your coiffed hair with his clawed finger. "Natural enough for you?"

You felt your face go a little red. There was modeling and then there was this. This was close. He was close. He was really really close. His clawed hand rested on your shoulder, digging into your shirt sleeve slightly. When you turned to face him, his grip tightened, poking into your skin underneath. Your faces were really close. His face was really close to your face and...

"Done! Perfect, you both are perfect! Y/n, Velvet said you could go at five. It's 4:50, so you're welcome to leave once you change." the photograph beamed, ecstatic with the results of his impromptu photo shoot of you and the TV Demon. 

You bolted up at the soonest permissible time, brushing off your shoulders with your hand. Without a word between the two of you, you bolted into the dressing room. When you returned to your normal, practically punitive red garbs, the TV demon was gone. You bid Christopher farewell before making your way to the lobby.

The Shark demon was packing his briefcase, noticing your presence. "Have a good day, Y/n!" Felix offered a tired smile, and you could only hope his day had been better than yours. 

"Aghhhhhh" you crashed onto the couch for the second night in a row, earning concerned looks from Angel and Husk, who had been flirting it up at the bar. 

Angel gave a soft look to Husk, making his way over to you "Rough day, ey toots?" he leaned against the back of the couch with an impressive arch. You could only grumble in the affirmative. "Sounds like this boy needs a drink, Husker baby, what's the fruitiest--" he looked down at you "--strongest drink you got?" he turned around to face Husk, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch.

"Right here, for the poor sop." Husk brought a whiskey glass to you on the couch, setting it on the coffee table. He looped around and wrapped an arm around Angel's waist "I didn't know modeling could tucker a guy out this bad." he looked up at Angel "Is it like this for you?" 

"Nawwww, I got the stamina of a horse" Angel gloated, resting a hand on Husk's shoulder. "But I'm a lot more experienced, for sure. This little thing ain't got the practice I got. Plus the details matter," Angel leaned over slightly and cooed at you "Who was your photographer, precious?"

"Christopher," you mumbled, your face down in the throw pillow that Niffty had painstakingly (and painfully) embroidered. 

Angel's face contorted into pity and disgust "Oof, yikes doll, that's rough." he turned to Husk "The guy's a total creep. Even creepier than they normally are." 

The couple looked down at you pitifully, observing as you pulled yourself up and took a hard swig of your whiskey. "I cannot do this for a month. They... he... and his hand--" you paused to collect your thoughts, turning to face an increasingly interested duo. Your ramblings concerned Husk and intrigued Angel "He spun me like a Disney Princess." you slammed the glass on the table, covering your face with your free hand. 

Angel frowned "Oh honey, the photographer? you could do so much better..."  

You shook your head "No... not... what? No--" You briefly toyed with the idea of admitting who it was, deciding it would only spur more drama for them to feast on "He ended up being a co-model. It was... mmm..." 

A chorus of "ooo"'s fell from the couple, who exchanged a knowing glance. Angel's face fell as he put two and two together. "Aaabsolutely not. The TV guy? Does he even-" he turned to Husk desperately "-Does he even have a tongue? or a mouth?" he turned back to you "Y/n I refuse to let you be in an oral-less hookup. That's the epitome of bad and sad and fucking pitiful. If you wanna get laid you shoulda just asked."

Husk elbowed him playfully, Angels' defense coming equally as teasingly "WHaaaaaattttt, just joking! But for real, I have some hot friends that would dig a classic guy like you." he continued mercilessly as you covered your face with your other hand. You were mortified, embarrassed, ready to crawl into a hole and die. It was just an awkward photo shoot, you didn't see yourself interacting with the demon much more in the coming month. Thirty more days and you would be back under Alastor's arm, which provides few advantages, but avoiding the TV Demon was one. 

"I uh. Imma head to bed, okay?" You smiled wearily at the pair and pulled yourself into a standing position, leaning on the armrest with both hands. The couple exchanged a worried look before nodding.

"Yeah, okay, g'night!" Angel waved you off as Husk stepped towards you.

"Be careful with that guy, alright? If not because of him, then cuz of Alastor. I wouldn't wanna be caught in between their bullshit." His concerned face sobered you right up. He wasn't wrong, it was a precarious position to be caught between the two overlords, but you could manage. Alastor owned your soul, and Vox was just some guy with a lot of power. 

"I'll be fine, promise."

"...okay, goodnight" Husk bid you goodnight as the two returned to their places at the bar. 

You made your way to your room, hoping that whatever awaited you tomorrow would be easier. You hoped it all got easier. 

Please god, let it get easier. 

Chapter Text

It did not, in fact, get easier. The shots you'd pounded back had left you with a wicked hangover. Curse you and your light tolerance.

It didn't really matter how you felt, you had work to do. Not at VoxTek, thank god, but around the hotel. Normally, before all this deal nonsense, you would rise at 8 am and begin your duties around the hotel. You didn't have any particular job but ended up doing most of the little things like washing sheets, making breakfast, and finding Angel's drug stashes. That didn't include all the odd fetch quests Alastor would send you on, usually something he could easily do himself with half the effort and time it took you. 

You shuffled through your room, the fuzzy slippers on your feet static shocking you "Agh- pieces of shit..." You rubbed them on your silky pajama pants as you made your way to your vanity/work desk. Rummaging through the pile of junk on your desk, you pondered what odd tasks you'd have to complete today. Maybe you'd be snaking Angels' drain again, or maybe Niffty would ask you to supervise her kitchen usage. You shrugged, pulling your cufflinks off the pile and setting them on your phone. In a few minutes, you were fixing them onto your wrists after getting dressed. 

Pushing the door to your room open, you started down the hall of the hotel, bumping into Husk as he exited his own room. "Oh- shit, sorry Husk." you smiled at the sight of your friend. Unlike him, you could manage your hangover pretty well, functioning much like a normal person. Poor Husk could hold his liquor, but not even he could prevent a hangover.

"Gah, shit, y/n, that's really loud." he waved up and down at your general presence, holding a paw to his forehead. The demon looked over at you sympathetically, taking in your shared state of pain. "I'll get us some tomato juice."

The cat demon and you made your way down the hall, down the stairs, and into the lobby. "Good idea, you up for some oatmeal?" you smiled at the demon as he made his way behind the bar.

"God yes, honey?" he grumbled, pouring two glasses of tomato juice, sticking a celery stick into his, and sliding the other across the bar to you.

You took a slow, disgusted sip of the juice. Your face soured, scrunching up in distaste. "We have honey, Husker. Don't worry, I know how you like your oats." you went behind the bar and in through a door to the kitchen. It was easy to navigate the kitchen, you had organized it with Niffty's help, even wagering to label the most important cabinets and drawers. "Want eggs with that?" you called through the open door, garnering a solemn nod from Husk.

"Over easy, please." he yawned, leaning against the bar and drinking his tomato juice. The cat demon winced, holding his head "I need to stop drinking on an empty stomach..."

Partway through you and Husk's quiet morning, others started to stir. The first to come down was Angel Dust, who draped himself over the counter.

"Morning toots! Hey, babe~" The spider demon leaned a hand up to Husk, petting the cat's cheek with his thumb. A soft, low purr escaped the bartender, leaning in for a chaste yet loving kiss.

The couple started chatting it up, largely leaving you out of the loop as you cooked. It wasn't unusual for you to treat them like your own personal podcast, often preferring to do your chores in their presence. Any time you had to sew up your clothes or fix a curtain, you would do it on the couch with Husk and Angel. They were quite possibly the best couple in hell, at least in your opinion.  Relationships in hell tended to be sexual in nature, unloving, and short-lasting. Only they, as well as Charlie and Vaggie, proved your observation wrong. You yourself had stayed far away from romance since your descent into hell. To your recollection, it had only been twenty or so years, but it had never appealed to you. You'd been on Alastor's leash for eight years, so for the seven years he'd been missing, you'd enjoyed your freedom, but love just didn't seem in the cards for you. You thought to yesterday's events, a subtle blush coloring your face.

"Shit!" In your daydreaming, you neglected to pay proper attention to the pot of oats, burning your wrist on the outside of the pot, absentmindedly resting it on the hot metal. The couple looked at you through the doorway, peering in to inspect your safety.

Husk noticed you holding your wrist and sent Angel to grab a first aid kit. "Here, lemme see..." He took your wrist, examining what seemed to be a relatively inconsequential burn. First degree, maybe second... It was hard to tell on your skin. Angel walked into the kitchen with the battered and blood-stained hotel first aid kit. It had seen better days, but it kept the lot of you in relatively good shape. Husk popped open the box and bandaged the burn slothily, his movement lethargic. His headache was weighing on him, and the smell of breakfast made his stomach grumble. He wrapped the end of the bandage into the folds on your hand, looking up with a satisfied smile "That should hold, let me know if it's still got a mark tomorrow." his stomach growled "Is uh... is breakfast ready?" the cat demon gave a sheepish smile

"Thank you, Husker, and yes it is!" you scooped a generous spoonful into two bowls, reaching for a third "You want any, Angel?" 

The spider demon shrugged "Sure why not? I gotta hit the town today, might as well go on a full stomach" 

You served the couple their bowls, pouring a loving drizzle of honey on Husk's bowl to demarcate it. You cut up a banana for yours, placing it haphazardly in the bowl as the three of you made seats at the dining room table. 

"So-" you took a bite of your oatmeal, gesturing with your spoon "Whaddya need to go in town for?" you took a big swallow of oats, wiping your mouth with a cloth napkin, "I thought you didn't have work today?" 

Angel shrugged noncommittally, but horribly unconvincingly, as if he was restraining his enthusiasm with everything he had. "Oh ya know, one of those sleazy parties I was tellin' ya about the other night." his look shifted from discerning to quizzical as he scanned you "Which I figured you'd be going to. You seriously ain't get an invite?" He tilted his head, pulling out his phone. "Here, see? It's some shit Val's throwing tomorrow night." 

Weird, you did think that was something Vox would make you attend. Vox... You pulled out your phone, checking your messages. Indeed, you'd missed a Voxstagram message from the overlord himself. You rolled your eyes, really, who used Voxstagram over Penstagram? What a nerd.

"Y/n, there is a party tomorrow at 7 pm. Arrive at the attached address, and wear something blue."

You sighed, lazily tucking the phone into your vest, not wanting to put it back in your pocket. "Shit, I guess I have to go as well...." You threw your head back, groaning. "And I have to wear blue..." You looked over at Husk, who looked at you sympathetically, and then at Angel, who had no idea what the fuck was wrong with that.

"The kid don't wear blue, doesn't own any," Husk explained, reaching out to hold Angel Dust's hand across the table. 

Angel rolled his eyes harder than you thought possible "That's ridiculous! A whole ass color and you just don't own any?" You shook your head plainly, taking another bite of oatmeal. "Oh hell no, if the TV guy you got a crush on says you gotta wear blue, then you're wearing blue!" Angel shoved himself out of his chair, standing to his full height with a conniving grin. "Yer coming with me, bitch." He turned to Husk and ran a finger along the demon's jaw "So are you, pretty kitty." 

It was as settled as it was going to get. The three of you finished breakfast, rinsed your bowls, and set off to the shopping district. 

"Hey quick question, do you think I'm a whore?" your sarcasm was blatant as you tugged at the ends of literally the shortest shorts you'd ever worn. 

Angel scoffed "Puh-lease, I've got mini-skirts shorter than that."

He waved his hand dismissively, rummaging through the racks adjacent to the dressing rooms. You knew Angel had a pension for playing dress-up, but this was getting insane. How many times were odd men going to shove you into the most absurd outfits? Angel tsked, tossing an ugly blue dress over at Husk, who was in charge of holding the rejects. The cat demon's arms were getting full, and eventually, he just dumped the pile onto a nearby couch. 

It took fifteen minutes before Angel pulled himself from the racks, emerging with an assortment of clothing, and tossing them over the door of your dressing stall. "It's perfect!! I'm so fucking smart, go go go try it on!" he threw his arms up in pride, taking a congratulatory seat on the couch, right atop the pile of rejects. His victory was evident in his ego. 

It took you a bit, but you finally emerged to the delight of Angel Dust, who practically teared up. Husk seemed approving, nodding his head subtly from his spot on the couch's arm. 

It was definitely blue, possibly the bluest thing you'd ever put on your body. The only non-blue things about it were the white flouncy button-up and the countless pearl strings with adorned the waist, hips, and decolletage. The button-up tied into a big white bow at the neck, draping down elegantly. Over it you sported a blue suit jacket which, while needing to be tailored, made for a great color on you. The pants matched, high-waisted dress pants that fit you well. The belt was made up of multiple pearled lines, the illusion of pearls falling from strings falling against your leg, swishing ever so slightly with your movements. The pearls settled nicely against your neck as well, Angel having thrown in a knotted pearl necklace as well as a short one for the contract. Say what you will, but Angel Dust almost made you enjoy the blue ensemble. 

"So, whaddya think, toots?" Angel snapped his fingers, getting your attention. 

Husk grinned, leaning against his. boyfriend "Ya know what I think? I think it's the one. I think Angel should pick out his outfit--" Husk nudged Angel, who rolled his eyes "-- and I think we should go for a drink." 

"A drink? Husk, it's..." You checked your phone, scoffing aloud "Husker it's barely ten." You turned away in bewilderment, getting a good hard look at yourself in the store's full-body mirrors in the process. You looked good, like how you'd looked at the photoshoot, only more like yourself. Except blue. Blue.... you hated blue. But Vox had personally told you to wear it, so maybe it wasn't so bad. "I'm gonna get this, Angel you go ahead and start figuring out your outfit." you stepped back into the dressing room, changing back into your normal clothes. 

Angel didn't need to be told twice, hopping off the corpse of discarded clothing and making his way to the women's section of the store. In the time it took for you to change back into regular clothes, Angel had been through three quick changes, settling on a baby pink fur coat over a darker pink mini dress. 

"Okay! I'm ready to check out too-" Angel Dust disappeared behind a door, reappearing in his normal clothes in less than half a minute.

You and Husk stared in astonishment. "Jeez Angel, how'd you do... that?" you gestured to the spider demon with a flippant hand. Literally what the hell? How could anybody get dressed that fast? 

The demon neglected to respond aside from a casual shrug. Literally what? You decided not to press the issue. The three of you went to check out, grabbed your outfits in their pretty plastic bags, and once again hit the streets of hell.

"I'm just saying. 10 Am ain't that early to be drinking in hell." Husk shrugged. He'd given up on the idea of a bar hangout, but he couldn't help but defend his idea regardless. 

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the plastic strap on your forearm where your bag hung. "Husk, if It's a reasonable time to drink in the pm, it's insane to be drinking at the same time in the am." 

Angel held his hands out "Hold it, so is it acceptable to drink at one in the afternoon or one at night?" He seemed plagued by the question. 

A disappointed, mildly contempt-filled look filled your face "Neither, Angel. Don't drink at either of those times.... Don't..." you pinched your temple "The fact neither of you died of alcohol poisoning or some dui or something is fucking insane to me." 

You paused, you supposed you didn't really know concretely how either of the pair had died, and they didn't have any more information regarding you. At least not pertaining to the subject of your death. In all fairness, it wasn't a particularly dramatic event. You had died in the 2010s in a freak boat accident. Nothing more exciting than what you assumed Angel and Husk had died of. You knew sparsely of their lives, Angel having once belonged to an Italian family with a twin sister, and Husk having lived in the same period as Alastor, although you were unsure of how long Husk had been... for lack of better phrasing... Alastor's bitch.

It didn't really matter, you supposed. These two were your friends, and their deaths weren't really important. As long as it wasn't alcohol-related. Or you'd really feel like a dick. 

Thankfully nobody spoke up in offense, the jokes carrying between the three of you as you made it back to the hotel. 

The hotel was all but empty, the remaining residents having woken up and begun on the day's redemption exercises. It seemed today was another day of trust falls. You did them periodically, every few weeks or so, whenever Charlie ran out of actual ideas and Vaggie needed a break. 

Alastor hung around on the couch while everyone else ran their turns, saying an intimate feeling or thought and trusting the group of sinners to catch them. It always eluded you how they could just let themselves fall like that. You've avoided it thus far, pray that you can avoid it today as well.

"Y/n! Angellll!! Husk!" you would not narrowly avoid fate, it seemed. Charlie called the three of you over to the set-up. "Okay okay okay, I knowwww you guys were busy but come on! You can put your bags up later, this won't take long." the princess' eyes widened, she was like a puppy dog. "Pleaaaassseeeee??" 

Come on, how were you supposed to be mean to her? You sighed, nodding in the affirmative. "Alright, but if nobody catches me, I'm not talking to any of you. Ever. Again." You climbed up onto the platform. "So uh.... what sort of thing am I supposed to say?" 

Sir Pentious was the first to respond "Ssssay something ffrom the heart!" which was quickly interrupted by Angel Dust "TELL US WHO YOU GOT A CRUSH ON!" 

This demand caught Niffty's attention "Y/n has a crush on someone?" she peered over at you with her big, unnervingly attentive eye "Who? Is he a bad boy?" 

You looked over at Charlie for help. Surely she would find this public interrogation to be unfriendly and-- oh fuck she was smiling. "Eeeee wait you have a crush on somebody!! We can have girl talk-- Er... guy talk!! People talk? Demon talk???" She trailed off, losing her meaning in the confusion. Her eyes sparked up to you "Oh come on tell us, pretty please!" 

Sir Pentious couldn't quite resist following the crowd, and suddenly the overwhelming majority of the residents were begging you to admit your crush. You didn't even have a crush! That was insanely absurd. This was absurdly insane. This was-

"Well, go on then." Alastor piped up from his spot on the couch, gesturing for you to 'get the hell on with it' with his clawed hand. 

Shit. 

"G-Guy's I don't have a--" It was pointless lying to them, not a single one of them was buying it for a minute. But buying what?  You weren't lying, you didn't have a crush on anybody and you didn't know why Angel would say you did. Oh. Wait. No, you knew why. FUCK- you couldn't admit to having MILD feelings for Vox in front of Alastor. You valued your life far too much for that. You looked around the crowd and bit back your pride. 

"U-Uh, I have a crush on Felix from VoxTek!" you turned around, adrenaline taking over as you allowed yourself to fall backward.

You fell right into the arms of Angel, who made literally the most disappointed face. "Felix? That little shark fuckhead?" He set you on your feet, shaking his head "I can't fucking believe it." He folded his arms disapprovingly, not buying your lie for a goddamned second. He remembered your conversation the prior night, and he also knew how much of an awkward knob Felix was. No demon in their right mind would fall for him, at least not after a day.

"Angel- I uh- I'll see you tomorrow at the party, okay?" You turned to Charlie apologetically "I think I'm just gonna go read in my room." Your eyes drifted nervously to Alastor "I-If that's okay." your nerves were consuming you. Your secret barely crush felt so obvious, so close to getting your soul torn to pieces.

Alastor nodded approvingly "I don't see why not, I'll send Niffty to fetch you for supper. Have a good evening, Y/n." The radio demon's voice was on edge, noticeably more hostile underneath all the southern frivolities. No amount of good manners could disguise his disdain for whatever scheme you were cooking up. He could almost taste how nervous you were, all your carefully hidden tells easily detected by the demon. 

You practically bolted with your bag of clothes up to your room, locking and bolting the door shut behind you. You were looking forward to the party, but not so much leaving your room. Lest you be faced with Alastor. Although you supposed, a lock had never stopped the demon's unwanted intrusions before. 

Chapter Text

Meanwhile at Voxtek...

Vox had turned the costume department upside down over the last two hours, resulting in a half-worried, half-annoyed check-up from Velvette.

"Vox, darling, what the hell are you doing?" she didn't sound mad, but bewildered, confused even? Vox had always had a casual interest in fashion. He understood it was important in presenting oneself, and enjoyed the power boost a well-fitted suit would give him, but he never took the joy in it that Velvet did. He let her pick most of his outfits, especially for things like parties and public appearances which demanded something other than his trademark suit.

So what the fuck was he doing tearing up her racks like this? The man was feverishly swiping through racks of clothing, tossing articles behind him haphazardly onto the ground behind him. 

Velvet stepped over the piles of clothing, growing increasingly desperate as Vox ignored her. She finally made it to the tv-demon, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him out of the fray. He met her eyes with an intensity that startled her.

"Vox- What the fuck are you doing?" 

Vox blinked hard, processing her question like it was ridiculous. He looked behind him at the piles of clothing, clearing his throat and straightening his posture. 

"I was trying to decide what to wear for tonight's party." He said it like it was so obvious, like he hadn't been rummaging through more clothes than most people wore in a lifetime. Like Vox had literally ever picked his own outfit for a party, let alone with this much fervor. This was insane, this was intense, this was going to give Velvette grey hairs. 

The pink-haired demon took a deep breath, exhaling shakily as she pressed her palms together "Listen, dear, you're TEARING UP MY COSTUME DEPARTMENT-" She stopped herself, entire body shaking as she pinched her temple "It's just a mixer, Vox. Same shit as always. Why are you so worried about it?"

Vox couldn't come up with a good answer.

He thought back to yesterday, the particular joy of picking out an outfit only to see it modeled by someone truly deserving of it. He'd told Alastor's lackey to wear blue to tomorrow night's event but cursed himself for not being more specific. It would have been infuriating for Alastor to see them match, even if only "coincidentally". Hell, everything Vox did in regards to the new model had been to appease Velvette and/or piss off Alastor. He wanted Y/n to reject Alastor and stay with VoxTek. As the ultimate insult to Alastor, of course.

Why else would he want that?

He didn't want to explain all that to Velvette, and settled on a placating:

"I want to look my best! You know I always try and represent us as best as I can, Velvette. You've been so busy with your new projects, I wanted to take this off your plate.

She shot a sharp, unconvinced glare up at him "We've been in business for decades and not once have you ever tried to take something off my plate. Don't get cute with me, Vox, why are you being so fucking weird? Is there somebody you need to impress? Who's going to be there that I don't know about?" 

Impress? Did he need to impress someone? No, he supposed not. He was Vox, one of the Vee's, one of the most powerful demons in the Pride Ring. No, impress wasn't the right word. Persuade? Galvanize? Dazzle? Seduce? The TV demon's face went a brilliant shade of purple, the closest thing to a blush that Vox was capable of in his digital state. 

Velvette narrowed her eyes, raising an eyebrow incredulously. She'd never seen the TV demon with this expression, ever. Maybe once or twice when she'd walked in on him and Valentino, but that was embarrassment, not... whatever this was was clearly different. 

"Oh my god. Who is it? Who is going to be there that has you all panicky and weird?" She waved a hand at him gesturally, placing a hand on her hip as she awaited a response.

Vox's eyes widened. If Velvette thought he wanted to impress someone, there wouldn't be any way of getting her off the topic. She was a bloodhound, just as irritated by the possibility as intrigued and with no way to throw her off the scent. He really didn't want to explain the intricacies of his rage/rivalry-fueled interest in Y/n, so he fumbled for a cover.

"I have an.... interest in uh....." He didn't think, he did whatever the opposite of thinking was, thinking implied at least a hint of intelligence or cohesion and his answer held neither quality "I have a crush on Felix?!"

"What?"

"...mhm" his voice was small as he shrunk into himself, praying she wouldn't dig any deeper.

Velvet leaned forward, examining his deranged body language, tone of voice, and expression. She pondered the idea before deciding she could not be fucking bothered, and pulling back.

"That's pathetic. Whatever. Clean up this mess and wear this, you'll be the belle of the ball." Velvet flicked a finger upwards in the air, adorning Vox with a new suit.

He tugged at the long, skinny tie that fell from his collar. It was unlike his normal garb. The entire thing felt uniquely.... un-him. It was a dark blue, almost black but duller than navy, with no jacket and instead solely suit pants, a powder blue button-up, and a vest that matched the pants. The Matching set was pin-striped with black, and a cyan napkin tucked into the breast pocket. It was slimming on him, that much was certain. He looked.... odd. Good, but odd. Unusual.

...He should roll up his sleeves.

SO HE ROLLED UP THE SLEEVES AND WOW IT LOOKED GREAT. He smiled at himself, satisfied with the simple change to the outfit. 

Velvet rolled her eyes at his dramatic display "Yes yes, you look fetching, I'll see you tomorrow night at the party." She stopped at the door "This better be cleaned up by the time I get back so fucking help me." The overlord pushed through the door, letting it slam shut behind her. 

The TV demon looked around at the literal mountain of discarded clothing he'd been tasked with cleaning up. Good thing he has employees to do this for him. He pulled out his phone and shot Felix a text letting him know to have the 3rd story costume department clean in the next hour. 

You fixed the pearls around your neck, leaning so close to Angels' vanity that you were almost touching your face to it. 

"Calm down, toots, rotating it half an inch ain't gonna change anything." Angel leaned back in his chair, waving a mascara wand at you "Especially not if you're pining for that nerdy little shark twink. I bet he ain't even seen pearls before." The spider demon went back to fixing his makeup as you continued to finagle with your accessories.

"Sorry Angel, I'm just nervous about tonight... I mean, what if I look like an idiot in front of...." You hesitated, swallowing your pride as you lied through your teeth "...Felix...." 

Nailed it.

The spider demon hadn't bought your lie about crushing on Felix for a second, and you knew it. He hadn't publically or verbally announced his disdain for your bullshit lie, but it was apparent in the way he'd been acting. 

Husk, bless him, sat on Angel's bed, keeping Angel's pet pig company. "You know, I don't get why you gotta get so dolled up for it. You said it's just a bunch of sleazy assholes, right Angel?" the bartender continued to pet Fat Nuggets, shooting a questioning glance at his partner across the room.

"Agh, Babe, c'mon, you know how these things go. It's all about marketability, gotta make the merch look good." Angel moved from his eyelashes to his hair, carefully teasing and coiffing his hair. "Valentino wants all the big hot-shots in hell to know that he's got the hottest babes out there."

The demon shot a look up at you, still desperately adjusting every detail of your outfit. "I guess Velvette and Vox do the same thing with their cash cows." He shrugged, going back to fixing his bangs.

An alarm on your phone went off, vibrating so hard it fell off Angel's bed.

"Jesus, who made your phone, Asmodeus?" 

"Angel, don't even...." you grumbled, picking your phone up and turning off the alarm. You groaned and grabbed the setting spray off the vanity, hotboxing the entire room with enough setting spray to kill a mortal "We gotta get going, I don't know the Vee's too well but from what you've told me about them I don't wanna be late." You tucked your phone into your pocket, tossing the setting spray to Angel.

The spider demon finished his hair before spraying his face, setting the spray on the vanity as he stood up. "Thanks for watching Fat Nuggets tonight, babe." Angel pet the pig on the top of his head, leaning down to give Husk a quick kiss. 

The bartender shrugged with a smile "Ahhh it's nothing, you two dimes go have a good night. Stay safe, yeah?" His tone transitioned from jovial to serious "Call me if you need anything-" He glanced over at you "-Either of you." 

You nodded in the affirmative, pulling Angel by the arm to the door "Yessir, see you later!!" and with that, you were dragging Angel out the door. 

"You know, I bet by the end of the night you're gonna have 'Felix' falling all over you." Angel's heavy use of air quotations irked you as the two of you continued down the street. No fancy car had been sent for Angel Dust like normal, so the two of you were resigned to taking the trip on foot. For Angel in heels and for you in possibly the most uncomfortable dress shoes you'd ever worn. 

The two of you rounded a corner as he continued "Seriously, if you're not getting dicked down by the time we leave, I'll have worked my magic on you for nothing." He stopped, turning to you and grabbing your collar "Sonofa..." he re-tied the bow, letting it droop lower than you'd tied it, exposing more of your chest. "There, it's like you're not even trying...." He sounded almost disappointed, but with just enough jollity to indicate his disappointment was lighthearted.

"You know, the other day I asked if you thought I was a whore and you didn't say no..." You fixed your bow, compromising on showing a small amount of chest but nowhere near as much as Angel Dust would have preferred. He was trying to get you match-made, if not for your happiness then to call your bluff about this Felix bullshit. He'd met Felix, hell, he'd been asked out by the nerd a couple of years back, and he knew intimately that he wasn't the kind of guy you'd go for. 

Why would you lie about something like that?

No time to ponder, you two arrived at the doorstep of Valentino's party venue. It was a swanky club that had been rented out for the evening, you briefly considered the humor in the Overlord of Porn hosting a party at a club named "Consent." The irony wasn't lost on you or Angel Dust. 

The music was blaring, relatively audible even from your spot outside. After getting clearance from the bouncer, you stood somberly in the doorway. 

"Ready?"

Angel nodded "Yeah, c'mon toots!" 

It was his turn to pull you around, dragging you headfirst onto the dancefloor. You weren't sure what you expected from an event with people wearing suits and gowns, but this certainly wasn't it. Although, upon further consideration, a party thrown by the porn and prostitution overlord didn't seem like it would be a classy event. It was the furthest thing, actually.

It was bright and loud, colorful and jam-packed with people. Famous people. Influential people who were throwing it back so hard you felt a little dizzy. You were by no means a green boy, but you certainly weren't used to the sheer intensity of- oh my god is that guy shooting heroin right now ohhhhhh my god what the fuck- You turned around to witness a man take a line of coke straight off the wall. As impressive as it was, it got the powder damn-near everywhere, including on the shoulder of your suit jacket. 

"A-Ah, fuck...." You dusted off the powder, making your way through the crowd. You'd all but lost Angel at this point and it seemed to be every man for himself. You scanned the crowd for a familiar face, anybody that you could cling to as an anchor until you'd acclimated.

Eventually, you ended up at the bar, a safe haven for people like yourself. "Jesus just poor me one of whatever, I don't even care....."

"He'll have a Manhattan, I'll take my regular." A familiar voice came from your left, just out of sight. It was familiarly annoying, tugging at your heartstrings in a way that only meant one thing. 

You pulled yourself off the bar and into an acceptably straight-postured position. "Ahhhhh, Vox- uh- What's up....?"

A tight line formed on your face as you forced a fake smile. It wasn't that you disliked the demon, it was just hard knowing how to act around him. You'd behaved cavalier and sarcastic as normal when you'd interacted two days ago, why did it feel so awkward now?

He leaned against the bar, allowing you to soak in his appearance. A lump formed in your throat as your words were lost. He looked weird... not bad just.... different. His sleeves were rolled up like they had been the last time you'd seen him, but you got the impression this wasn't normal. Everything about his body language was desperate for control, but he was the furthest thing from being in control, it reminded you of how you'd felt going shopping with Angel. In skin that didn't quite fit. He hid it well, you had to admit. 

The bartender brought over your drinks, allowing Vox, in turn, to get a good look at you.

He took his drink in his clawed hands, tapping his nails against the glass. The demon averted his eyes, bringing his glass to his face as he spoke.

"You look nice."

"You said that last time."

The demon smiled aporetically, a glower held back by sheer force of will and all the manners the demon could muster. "Well, maybe you keep wearing nice clothes." 

You spoke without giving yourself a chance to think "Maybe, or maybe you just like how I look." 

Silence.

What was happening? Were you.... flirting? Neither of you were sure.

Vox coughed, taking another sip of his drink. "Maybe...." The demon couldn't meet your gaze, instead opting to stare into his drink, as if hoping to find the answer to his problems at the bottom of an Espresso Martini. As he downed the last of it a final glance revealed no such luck.

You responded by taking a sip of your drink, stirring it with the small umbrella you'd picked out of a cup full of them. "Well, I think you look nice too." Vox took a minute to respond, so you followed up with a quick "Just... for the record." 

What was up with this guy? You didn't seem all that intimidated by him, which only drew Vox in closer. He supposed so much time spent with Alastor desensitized you to it after a certain point, Vox wasn't any more powerful than the radio demon, and it appeared you knew this well. Why else would you be toying with him like this? 

The TV demon looked you up and down, carefully considering his next move. You were adorned in what looked like... pearls? Your suit was the color of sharks. The entire thing radiated classy marine biologist, in the best way. Even your wrists were adorned with intricately chosen pearl cufflinks, as well as- bandages? 

"What happened there?" Vox gestured candidly to the bandages on your hand. 

"Oh, uh... just a burn. Nothing serious." you contemplated unwrapping the bandage to show the no-harm-done, but decided against it, you didn't have anything to rewrap yourself with.

Vox was unconcerned with your concerns, reaching over and grabbing your hand. "This bandage looks old... you need a new one." He unwrapped the bandage, tossing it in a nearby bin. Your burn was all but gone, you both knew demons healed fast, and there didn't really seem to be a need to bandage it at all.

Which left Vox, the TV overlord of the pride ring, holding your hand at a party. 

The two of you froze, taking in the moment with equal parts excitement and horror. He was holding your hand and Valentino and Angel Dust were at this party, if either of them saw it could spell rumors and questioning, it was just hand holding but you were Alastor's assistant, your soul belonged to him, for lack of a better phrase, you were his bitch, and Vox was holding your hand, and it felt weirdly powerful but even worse, weirdly right. 

Meanwhile, across the floor.

Angel Dust stumbled through the crowd, bumping into a certain fishy front counter clerk.

"Ah- Felix- FUCK, you scared me." Angel sighed, lightly punching the shark demon on the upper arm. 

Felix looked around skittishly, fumbling with his hands "I-I uh, sorry uh.... Angel... Dust...." the demon's face was a brilliant pink, and Angel couldn't blame him. Shy thing like Felix faced with THE porn star? Made sense he was nervous.

Eventually, he regained his composure "Um.. Have you seen Y/n around?"

"Huh? No, I'm looking for him right now but he ain't anywhere..." Angel paused, contemplating the question "Heyyyyy, why're you looking for him?"

The shark demon's frazzling exterior only intensified, Felix being incapable of making eye contact as he spoke "W-Well I heard that he has a... a crush on me?"

"He likes you. Don't call it a crush it makes you sound twelve."

"S-So he really likes me? Awesome! I mean- let me know if you find him, okay?" He beamed at Angel in a way that was hard to refuse.

"Yeah Yeah, sure. Same to you, pal." Angel rolled his eyes, making his way past Felix and into the crowd. Angel wasn't hurting to find you or anything like that, you were a capable demon who could take care of yourself, but he hoped to find you sooner rather than later. He liked knowing you were doing fine, he didn't want you to end up in the gutter. Especially not at a party like this...

He'd been holding your hand for a solid minute at this point, and not a single word had been spoken. Hell, you weren't sure you'd even breathed. 

Finally, the bartender dropped off refills for your drinks, breaking the tension in a fell swoop.

Vox pulled his hand away from yours, picking up his drink and taking a hearty swig. An unusual method of delivery for a sipping-style beverage. He held back a cough as you took a sensible sip of your second Manhattan. 

"I should go find Valentino, make sure he isn't... Valentino-ing it up." Vox cleared his throat, excusing himself from the situation. He gave a courteous, albeit awkward nod and fucked off to go find Valentino. 

Leaving you alone once more.

Great.

You got comfortable at the bar, not wanting to brave the dancefloor until you decided it was time to find Angel Dust. It was a pretty comfortable position, watching the show from a comfortable distance while having access to the open bar. After a little bit of your people-watching, a certain shark demon found his way over to you. Unlike the TV Demon, Felix was obvious, he was loud and, while polite, extremely brazen in asking the bartender for one of whatever you were having. He brought the drink over to you, taking the bar stool directly next to you and perching himself upon it.

"Heya! Wasn't expecting to see you here, didn't think your boss let you come to a thing like this!!" His energy was infectious and pulled you from your introversion the tiniest bit.

You remembered Angel thought you had a crush on Felix, and sighed at your own undoing. You'd have to play it up for the sake of appearances. Angel already didn't believe you, you'd have to work overtime to sell him on it in case he was nearby.

"Ohhhh totally! He's a real stick in the mud but I just had to come, ya know?" you playfully smacked Felix's arm, eliciting a wobbly smile from the demon. "Anyways- what're you up to? I didn't know you came to this kinda thing."

Felix stumbled over his words a little, taking another sip of his identical drink "W-Well I heard some cool people would be here, a-and I wanted to be here. In case... you were... here...." It must've sounded less obvious in his head, the demon's face flushed as he slowly, almost agonizingly processed his words. He'd come to this party just on the off chance you'd be here. Either he was the friendliest coworker in hell- no, the world- or he had feelings for you. That. That would be bad....

Oh, this was bad...

"That's sweet!" Your smile was saccharine, obviously fake to anybody outside the situation.

"You wouldn't happen to want to uh... dance... would you?" His questioning eyes were so wet and pathetic it almost made you feel bad for roping him into your lie. Almost. 

"Uh.... sure, Felix. Sure." You set your drink down on the counter "But I should warn you, I've got two left feet." 

He grabbed your hands carefully and led you to the floor "It's okay, I'll lead!" 

Angel had been perusing the dance floor, enjoying the company of a multitude of people. It hadn't been long since he'd crossed paths with that little fishy dude, and he was sure he would find you before Felix did.

Boy was he wrong.

The spider demon had wandered far afield before coming across what looked like a dance circle. What was this, high school prom? He got a good look over the crowd to see... Felix? And Y/n? Dancing??? Had the environment frozen over since he entered this party or was he seeing things? 

Felix had you by the hands, twirling you around expertly. Somewhere in there, he'd let slip that he used to be a dance instructor in his life, which explained the casual excellence he exuded in the subject. How he'd landed the job at the Vee's main desk-boy was beyond you. 

Angel looked on in bewilderment at the spectacle, and he wasn't the only one. Across the circle, Angel could make out the distinct rectangular box head that Vox sported. He was watching, slightly perturbed, at the display, much the same as Angel. Except Vox's look held something more than confusion and concern, but a distinct sense of disdain that Angel couldn't quite get a read on. 

You, precious thing, were having the time of your life. You held no feelings for the shark demon, but a good time was a good time, and damn could he cut a rug. You'd been dancing for the last ten or so minutes when you noticed Angel in the crowd. Until this point, you hadn't even noticed the crowd. You gave a look to Felix that suggested maybe it was time to let someone else take the spotlight, letting go of each other and disappearing into different ends of the crowd.

You bumped into Angel, giving him a cheeky grin as he stared down at you quizzically. 

"Toots what the hell what that????" He didn't seem upset, much more confused than anything else.

With a shrug, you moved off of him "What? it's a party, I was dancing. Besides, I got a crush on him, y'know?" It wasn't convincing, but Angel couldn't retort against the obvious facts. You did dance with him, and it wasn't like you'd done anything besides be a terrible liar to prove otherwise, so whatevs. 

"Okay, look, I think we oughtta go, yeah?" Angel started goading you towards the exit, and you obliged perfectly. Despite the fun night, your feet hurt and your head was pounding with a forming blackout level of drunkenness that you'd curse yourself for tomorrow. Why did working at VoxTek include so many hangovers?  

Angel and Vox met eyes as he practically carried you to the exit, an uncomfortable exchange between the two demons as Angel hurried to get you home.

"Shit- Y/n you really gotta work wit me here." Angel was holding your arm around his shoulder, helping you up the stairs to his room. All the alcohol you'd ingested tonight, the two Manhattan plus some shots with Felix, and the drinks you'd taken in between conversations had left you pretty inebriated. 

As soon as Angel Dust finished lugging you to the second story, an ominous smoke revealed the silhouette of none other than your owner, Alastor. He lifted your chin with the end of his microphone, tsk-ing you both.

"My My, how irresponsible. You know I'm starting to think this isn't such a good idea. I can't have my own representatives-" He stopped, taking in the scene before him. He was teasing you and Angel, as lightheartedly as he could get, but it really settled on him. You were wearing blue. A lot of it. An almost mutinous amount of blue.

"Goodness, Y/n, you look hideous! Let's get you out of that ratty old thing." Alastor snapped his fingers, green magic enveloping you and dressing you in red pajamas. They were oddly comfortable and did not help in keeping you awake and upright long enough to get to bed. 

Angel groaned, continuing to haul your sorry ass through the halls. "You couldn't have waited to get him to bed first?" Angel whined as you pitifully attempted to shuffle along. 

"I can hardly be blamed, such a hideous display. Red suits him much better. It is better this way!" Alastor beamed at the spider demon, who grimaced relentlessly. 

He had finally dragged you into bed, allowing you to plop on top of your comforter. He scurried next door to his own room, not making so much as a glance in Alastor's direction. 

You'd been wearing blue, attending parties, and working for the blasted TV Demon for two days. Alastor knew it would only be for a month, but it gnawed at him.

Don't mistake his perturbedness for concern, Alastor wasn't worried for you in the slightest. The TV demon knew better than to mess with what was Alastors. It wasn't even that the idea concerned him, Alastor didn't care much for your wellbeing, but it was the principle of the matter. You belonged to him, your soul rested comfortably in his pocket, and Vox had the nerve to try and poach you? It was pathetic and pitiful and it pissed him off. 

Alastor contemplated smiting Vox off the face of hell, discarding the idea upon remembering his purpose to the hotel. It wouldn't do to bring so much bad press, especially not this close to extermination. Two months and maybe, if Alastor was lucky enough, some Angel exterminator would come down and reign holy justice upon Vox's stupid fucking face. That stupid, awful demon who was so insistent on trying to disrupt his every sense of power. It was loathsome and frankly annoying to deal with Vox's attempts at "converting" his assistant. It was entertaining to watch Vox fail, don't mistake him, but that was the problem. Vox wasn't failing. 

That was a problem. 

Chapter Text

You really needed to stop drinking so much. The pounding headache and spotty vision you sported this fine morning proved you correct, urging you back into bed to sleep off the gnawing pain in your skull. Your life may be a bit of a mess, but that was no excuse to treat your body (and your hangover buddy, Husk) like this.

Speaking of your hangover buddy, he'd elected to be kind and bring you breakfast. He knocked softly on the wooden door, earning a pitiful "come in...." muffled by the mountain of pillows you'd thrown yourself atop of. Husk cracked the door, opening it slowly enough to not creak, closing it behind him with a small click. 

"Ya know, we can't make this a routine. I'm the dysfunctional drunk, not you." The demon leaned against the closed door, holding two bowls of what you prayed to God was something sugary and full of carbs. He walked over to your bed, revealing the bowls to be your favorite cereal. Thank you, God. You surveyed the precious contents of the bowls as Husk made himself comfortable atop your comforter.

You leaned over, taking one of the bowls from him and hoisting yourself upright, sitting criss-cross on your mattress. "Thanks, Husk. Don't worry, after this whole modeling shtick is over, it's gonna be right back to normal." 

Husk nodded understandingly, offering you a spoon from his pocket. Pocket spoon. Weird. You took the utensil regardless and began to dig in to your breakfast, hoping the sugary carbs would knock your headache away. It was a slim chance, but you clung to it preciously. 

The two of you ate in silence, enjoying the company of one another. Little moments like these had littered your relationship since you'd arrived at the hotel together, even if they'd gotten more scarce since him and Angel Dust had gotten together. Husker was the only one who knew exactly what you were going through, being similarly bequeathed to the Radio Demon. You missed these moments, but they'd been exchanged for equally precious hangouts between you, Husker, and Angel Dust, the three of you slotting into a quaint trio. You were a good third wheel, and they never got weird around you, so it was a perfectly precious group you'd cultivated. 

Two hasty knocks and then the sound of a door handle jiggling alerted both you and Husker to your bedroom door, opening with a creak to reveal Angel Dust, holding a plate of toast topped with fried eggs. "Hope I ain't late to the party" He looked between you two, raising an eyebrow "I miss much?"

"Naw," Husk scooted over on your bed, patting the newly empty space "We were just eating."

Angel Dust took the seat without a second thought, draping his legs across Husks lap and leaning back onto his lower set of arms. Using his upper arms, he took a bite of his toast. "Well that's lame, any of you got any good gossip?" He swallowed thickly, giving you a hard look "Y/n? You've been at VoxTek long enough to have HAD to heard something juicy, c'mon, pleaaasssseeeee?" He batted his eyes at you, moving his hands into a pleading prayer form.

It was tempting to gossip, but in all earnesty you didn't have anything to share. You simply shrugged and sighed with a smile "Sorry, Angel, I don't have anything for you."

You drank the milk from your bowl, setting the empty container on your nightstand. "What about you? Heard anything interesting?" 

Angel shrugged in reciprocation, mulling over the previous nights events. "Meh I dunno, I bumped into Felix, he seemed pretty into you." Angel continued to think, his eyes widening as he rocked forward "Holy shit, Felix!" He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his texts "Fuuuuuck..." He looked over to Husk, motioning to his phone "This is the shit Valentino was freaking out about."

Husk nodded with an understanding that was lost on you. What was happening? You leaned over, trying to get a look at Angel Dust's phone. He didn't make an attempt to move, but your attempts to lean all the way over left you craning your neck uncomfortably. You gave up and returned to your seat. "Angel, what's up???"

The spider demon shot his eyes from his phone back up to you "Oh- right, you. Felix uh-" He paused, taking a calming inahle before continuing

"Valentino's freaking because he heard Vox has a crush on Felix, y'know, your weird little shark dude."

"...What??"

You couldn't stifle a surprised laugh. This news had caught you off guard, not that Vox was incapable of displaying emotion, but Felix? You thought he could certainly do better. It did explain the odd looks you swore you'd gotten from Vox while you'd been dancing. He was jealous... why did that make you so uneasy?

Pulling yourself together, you noticed Husk containing his own laugh much better than yourself. Once you'd pulled yourself together, he couldn't help but laugh uproariously. He nudged Angel Dust and the two of them shared a look nothing short of knowing, cracking up hysterically in unison. What the fuck were they laughing about? It was weird, but not that funny.

"Uh.... guys?"

Husk wiped a tear from his eye as Angel kicked back onto your bed, laughing so hard he was holding his stomach.

"A-Ah... Sorry pal, it's nothing... I just-" The bartender chuckled, albeit much more restrainedly. 

It took a minute for him to calm down, Angel Dust lost to the hysteria of the comedy, leaving Husk to explain "You should've seen your face, you got all serious like you was gonna go fuck him up or something." He turned to Angel and made a mockingly serious face, throwing the spider demon right back into his fit of laughter. You were seriously unamused. 

"S-So what?" You fumbled for an excuse "I like Felix, I said that before.... Is it that unbelievable that I wouldn't want Vox for competition?" 

Angel threw himself upright, propping his hands on his crossed knees "Oh come ON, y/n, you can't think i'm that stupid!" He gave you a grin, or maybe something more akin to a smirk, shifting a shoulder up as he spoke "I saw that face you were making when Mr. Tall Dark and Video was flirting with ya!"

Husk nodded less enthusiastically, with a loving eye roll for good measure.

Angel continued without letting you get a word in "Come on, it's so obvious you like that TV bitch, why not come out and say it?" 

Husk looked right past Angel, turning to give his partner a deadly serious look, along with a small shake of the head.

Both you and Angel turned to see Alastor himself in your doorway, tilting his head menacingly. 

"Come out and say what?" 

Silence filled the room as the floating symbols disappeared from your owners atmosphere, his intimidating smile being replaced with one of candid jollity as he plopped down in your armchair.

"Come now, I want to hear the fun story!" His smile was casual, his eyes pressed closed for good effect. You knew better, and shrunk into yourself as Husk reached for your knee.

"Nothing, Alastor. It's nothing...." You looked off, folding your arms and making yourself small. You weren't scared, you hadn't done anything to warrant that, but you were concerned. Openly crushing on Vox-- which you weren't!!-- would only spell bad things for your relationship with the man you held your soul in his pocket. Whatever feelings Angel thought you had were delusional. You were pretending to have a crush on Felix, and you didn't, and you didn't have a crush on anybody. 

Alastor watched- no, studied- you, fixating on the smallest shifts in your body language and demeanor. His smile was dissaproving, but nontheless everpresent. 

"Come now! Surely you're not such a stooge you would leave me out of this fun, I enjoy a good 'story time' as much as anyone else!" He wasn't giving you much of a choice, glaring you down further and further into the ball you were slowly pulling yourself into. 

Husk, bless him, sought to fix the situation himself. "Uh- Y/n was getting picked on for having a crush on Felix, a coworker!" 

This mollified the Radio Demon temporarily, a cheery smile filling his face

"Well why didn't you say so! That's so very charming, Y/n, I do hope that works out!"

He stood up, resting on hand over the other on his microphone. He turned to Angel Dust and Husk, motioning with his head for them to leave. Begrudgingly and slowly, they did so.  

Leaving you and Alastor alone. 

He stood menacingly over your spot on your mattress. Not threateningly, just menacingly. 

"I hope you know that whatever comes from your horrid deal ends when your contract does." his voice was sharp and calculated, striking fear into parts of you that you didn't know could be reached.

Something about the extent of his anger, the sheer volume of calm rage expressed through his tense shoulders and white-knuckle grip on his microphone, as well at the inklings of his demon form appearing on his figure, clued you in that he was not upset about Felix. This wasn't the proportionate response to Felix.

He knew something you didn't know. 

His smile was menacing and dare I say, frustrated? Him?? Frustrated? He'd been annoyed, surely you'd seen Mimzy or whoever stop by and annoy Alastor, but this was a frustration you rarely saw from him. Hardly ever, in fact. It scared you to your core. 

You shook slightly, your own white-knuckle grip digging crescent shaped marks into your upper arms. The fear was palpable, and you briefly considered that he might show you the mercy of shredding your soul quickly, just to get it over with. No such luck, however. The demon narrowed his eyes, his smile falling dangerously close to a frown, pulling into a tight, forced grin.

"Yes sir..."

"Good man!" He snapped back into a demeanor of detatched and amused composure, one he held near constantly.  He patted your shoulder, his claws digging just deep enough into the fabric of your red sleep shirt. When did you change into pajamas? You shirked the thought, focusing solely on the burning pain in your shoulder. Part of you thought he wouldn't stop until he drew blood. Red was his favorite color, after all.

Luckily, he released your shoulder with a harsh pull, snatching his hand back and returning it to his cane.

"See to it that the dishes get done, that odd cat is fed, and that those curtains on the third story are stitched back up." He paused for dramatic effect "I'll be seeing you, Y/n."

Chills. Chills spread all over your undead body as he dissipated from your sight.

What.

The.

Fuck??????

You pulled yourself off your mattress and shakily stumbled over to your vanity. Hoisting your hands onto the wooden surface, you proppoded yourself up, your neck hanging limply between two taut shoulders. You weren't sure what exactly had set Alastor off that much, but it wasn't good and you needed to figure it out and stop now.

Before things got any worse.

A small light went off, it was a notification on your phone. It was Vox....

"Another party. Velvette's modelling thing, you'll have to look extra nice. Saturday @ 5:30pm. We'll provide your clothing."

...

Fuck.

So much for avoiding the things that pissed off Alastor.