Chapter Text
VOX FUCKED UP
What will the future hold for VoxTek Enterprises?
Overlord Vox steps down as leader of the Vees after being thwarted in his plan to take over Heaven by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel, seraphim Emily and the other Overlords – among those who stopped him were his colleagues, Valentino and Velvette. Since Vox is literally headless (that’s fucking hilarious) and only his head is still intact, he will no longer be able to run the company. All the money he originally earned will now be used for Velvette’s fashion chain and the production of Valentino’s porn films. Valentino will take over Vox’s position as head of VoxTek Enterprises. „We don’t give a damn about that flat–faced son of a bitch!“ Miss Velvette said in a press interview. „He fucked things up like that is his only fucking talent. Plus, he completely lost it when he destroyed half of Pentagram City with the Might of Lilith! You know, that giant big ass weapon that can fire a laser made out of angelic energy. It’s not like mass murder and destruction is unusual among sinners, but this? Holy shit!“ Her colleague and partner Valentino added: „And while I’m annoyed, I’m going to miss those hot sex nights with my Voxxie babe – I loved sucking his dick.“ But what’s next? What does the future hold for VoxTek Enterpr–
Mid–reading, engrossed in the newspaper article, a hand approached and pushed the paper down. Blue eyes gazed up, and Chuuya Nakahara, a sinner with an almost fanatical love of alcohol, found himself staring into the differently colored eyes of Angel Dust, arguably the most famous porn star in Hell. Angel Dust, with whom Chuuya had been meeting regularly for drinks at a club for the past two or three years.
„Hey.“ Angel said, sounding almost admonishing. „You shouldn’t be reading newspapers. Politics fucks your brain.“
„Oh, really? And how do you know that?“ Chuuya asked, tilting his head. Angel Dust grinned. „Listen, babe, I didn’t hear it from anyone. I figured it out myself. But either way, you don’t have to be a genius to find out things like that.“
Chuuya shrugged and didn’t give the other sinner’s words any further thought. It wasn’t worth the effort. He put the newspaper aside and reached for the glass of red wine. It wasn’t the best wine, but he didn’t care. He’d had a long day, so any wine would do.
Angel Dust did the same, although he himself was drinking a cocktail. He was probably doing so without Charlie’s permission, since she always insisted that guests at her hotel consume drugs and alcohol. Sex, however, didn’t seem to be a major topic of conversation, so Chuuya didn’t bring it up.
„So, so. Rumor has it you left the hotel.“ Chuuya said after a while. He didn’t often initiate conversations, so this was a rare exception. Beside him, the porn star sighed and stared into his half–empty glass. „I have to protect the others from Val somehow.“
It wasn’t exactly a secret that that creep Valentino owned Angel’s soul and abused the spider demon both emotionally and sexually. And almost every day.
„And how is that supposed to help?“ Chuuya continued. Beside him, Angel Dust grimaced. „Counter–question: Is this turning into an interrogation?“ He took a breath and calmed down. „I’ll manage somehow, I’ll think of something, sweetheart, don’t worry.“ Chuuya raised an eyebrow. „I’m not worried, I’m just confused and questioning your approach to this whole thing with that son of a bitch Valentino.“
The whole thing seemed to be getting to Angel Dust, so he simply shook his head and took out some money. „Maybe I should go. Valentino’s waiting for me. But so is Husk, in a way.“
You could tell the porn star missed Husk. But Husk was really good for him, too: you could tell even if you weren’t a guest at that strange hotel.
The silence seemed to stretch on, and Chuuya watched Angel out of the corner of his eye. He'd known the guy long enough by now to read the true emotions lurking beneath the mask of flirting, provocation, and sexual innuendo. The sheer amount of negativity was almost frightening, yet Chuuya never said anything, afraid of saying the wrong thing. His blue eyes remained fixed on Angel, who was about to order another cocktail, but he was stopped.
„Okay, this is starting to get to me.“ Chuuya reached into the pocket of the dark red vest he was wearing today and pulled out a notebook. It was small, fitting easily into a pocket, but large enough to provide ample space for drawing. The former artist also took out a pencil, then placed both on the bar in front of Angel. „Draw, man. Just draw something.“
The porn star stared at the artist as if he’d suggested he submit completely to Valentino – something Chuuya would never suggest. But Angel’s incredulous expression soon changed, becoming more relaxed, but also a little ... strange.
„Babe, my hands are made for fingering and handjobs, not for drawing silly flowers or whatever. Besides, I’m terrible at anything ... paper–based anyway: I can’t even fold a paper airplane!“
„I don’t care.“ Chuuya persisted. „Anyone can draw, and you don’t have to be good to express your feelings on paper. I know you don’t like talking about it, so I think it might do you some good to approach the whole thing nonverbally.“
„You’re such a fucking stubborn fool.“ Angel said it was hard to tell whether he was impressed or annoyed, but he picked up the pencil, turned it between his long fingers, and tapped the tip on the paper. Meanwhile, Chuuya finished his wine and watched his friend out of the corner of his eye before asking the bartender (a succubus who, unlike others of her kind, wasn’t scantily clad and provocative) for more wine.
Finally, Angel placed the pencil firmly on the paper, but before he could even draw the first lines, a voice spoke from behind them.
„Drawing won’t solve the problems in the end.“ a voice cut through the thick air of the club. It was cool, melodic, and sounded so familiar that Chuuya felt his heart freeze in his chest. But the voice continued, unfazed by the red–haired sinner’s reaction. „Just as writing books never could, I speak from experience, which is why I put down my pen weeks before the end.“
Chuuya froze. The glass of wine in his hand trembled so slightly that only the reflections of light on its red surface betrayed his inner trembling. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in six years. Six years had passed since he’d been down here, and he’d remembered every word, every insult, every whisper from that man, as if it were as essential as eating, drinking, sleeping, and breathing.
He turned his head so fast his neck ached. And there he stood: Dazai Osamu.
He no longer looked like the corpse Chuuya had found dead in the courtyard all those years ago. He was wrapped in dark, blue fabrics that seemed heavy and luxurious, accentuated by bright red cords that crisscrossed his chest like veins of blood. But the most disturbing and beautiful thing about him were his wings. Two enormous, pitch–black wings of feathers, so dark they seemed to absorb the club’s meager light.
A tengu in the city of sinners.
The wings suited the manner of his death: Dazai, after all, plummeted to his death, like a bird weary of flying and simply giving up mid–sky.
But Chuuya couldn’t utter a word. The words died in his throat, choked by a mixture of burning rage and a grief so profound it threatened to crush him. He stared at the black feathers, at the face of the man who had broken his heart in college and then abandoned him, only to haunt him again in hell. It’s an almost sickening irony of fate.
Dazai tilted his head slightly to the side, a mocking smile on his lips that never reached his eyes. „You’d better keep your mouth shut, Chuuya.“ he said softly, the familiar, condescending tone burning like acid on Chuuya’s skin. „Otherwise, you’ll swallow flies – if they even see you, since you’re still as tiny as you were back on Earth.“
Angel Dust, still clutching the pen tightly, looked up from the blank sheet of paper, narrowed his differently colored eyes, and studied the figure behind them with a mixture of disgust and amusement. „Okay, I’m used to a lot of shit.“ the porn star interrupted the awkward tension. His words cut through the air like a blade, and he gestured vaguely with the pencil in Dazai's direction. „But who the fuck is this feathered drama queen? And why does he think he has the right to disrupt my therapy session? I don’t remember inviting him to our drinking session.“
Chuuya blinked, closed his mouth, and swallowed slightly. „Oh, that’s Dazai, and that little son of a bitch has a habit of inviting himself!“ he said, struggling to keep his voice down. Then he stared at Dazai. „You damned bastard!“ he growled, his fingers gripping the wine glass so tightly that the stem cracked dangerously. „I saw you dead, and now you dare to haunt me in death with your ridiculous raven wings!“
„I’m more curious about what must have happened for you to end up down here, Chuuya.“ Dazai said, stepping closer. „Although you don’t exactly look appetizing yourself. Is that a rash, or why in god’s name does your skin look like you’ve had an allergic reaction?“ Dazai gestured at Chuuya’s forearms and face. Chuuya bit his lip. He was aware of his appearance: the pale skin crisscrossed with blood–red marks, a manifestation of the self–hatred that consumed him so completely that it left its mark on his physical self. The self–hatred that was also the reason he ended up here.
„That’s none of your business, asshole!“ he said, and started to turn away, forgetting that the man who was the reason for Chuuya’s stay in hell was even there. „The only thing that matters is that you’re standing here acting like nothing ever happened! Six years, Dazai! You were gone for six years, and now you show up and insult the people trying to survive in this godforsaken place? How did you even find me?“
While the two were arguing, Angel Dust leaned over the bar and beckoned the succubus over. „Hey, honey, any popcorn here? This is better than any movie.“
But the succubus shook her head at the question and looked at the two men. „And these two are just another two troublemakers in my bar. Oh Lucifer, I should be used to this by now.“ Then she went back to work.
Meanwhile, the conversation between the other two continued.
Dazai merely twitched his black feathered wings, a sound like dry silk. „I’m looking for you for a reason, Chuuya, though it’s not hard to find you here: you’ve made a name for yourself in hell by being friends with the most famous porn star and that Velvette lady, despite all the crap she’s pulled. And this is your favorite bar, as far as I can tell.“ he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He leaned against the bar with an air of elegance that seemed completely out of place in this seedy establishment. „Charlie was complaining at breakfast this morning. She said the hotel desperately needed more color, more life ... and I thought to myself, I know someone who has a knack for that sort of thing.“
Chuuya paused as he went to take a sip of wine, eager to drown Dazai’s unsettling presence in alcohol. Angel also showed a distinct reaction, but it was somewhat different. „Charlie? You’re living at the hotel?“
„Yeah ... I got kicked out of my apartment. But in my defense: I didn’t know they made a point of paying rent in this shithole.“ Dazai tried to defend himself, as Angel just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
„That sounds like you. Even in life, you were lazy about everything that wasn’t related to writing books, drinking alcohol, suicide or flirting!“ Chuuya said slowly. His gaze sharpened. „How long… how long have you known I’m down here?“ Dazai looked up at the ceiling as if he needed to do some quick math, but the answer came without hesitation. „Four years. That’s not so long when you consider how long some others have been stuck down here, I’m sure you’ll agree.“
The silence that followed was heavier than anything before. Chuuya stared at him, his pupils dilated with anger and disbelief. „Four years?“ he echoed softly. „You’ve known I’ve been stuck in this damned hell for four years, and today’s the day you decide to say Hello?“
Dazai shrugged, a nearly innocent smile playing on his lips. „Until now, I just didn’t see the need to approach you. You seemed busy ... drinking, swearing, and buying hats.“ Angel Dust, who had been listening in stunned silence, finally dropped his pencil. „Four years?“ the spider–demon hissed in Dazai’s direction. „You’re an even bigger asshole than I thought. And believe me, I work for Valentino: my standards are damn high. I really feel sorry for Charlie.“
„That’s not necessary!“ Dazai said, looking at Angel, still smiling. „Charlie actually likes me, even though she hates that I run away the moment she wants to croon one of her ridiculous little songs. But I’m not a singer, and even the esteemed princess has to accept that.“ And then his reddish eyes narrowed slightly. „And speaking of the hotel’s residents: Husk and Cherri miss you, Spider.“
Suddenly, Angel moved frantically. He stood up so abruptly that the barstool almost tipped over. With trembling fingers, he fumbled for some bills and slammed them down on the counter without waiting for the change. „Angel, wait!“ Chuuya shouted, reaching for his arm. He knew perfectly well that Dazai had just touched a nerve, just to stir up trouble. „Stay here, don’t let that bastard get to you like this!“
But Angel dodged his hand. He didn't look at Chuuya. His voice was suddenly shaky and sounded miles away as he patted Chuuya’s head. „Sorry, sweetheart ... work calls. Val’s getting impatient.“ It was a lie, so obvious and ugly that it hurt Chuuya’s ears. Angel didn’t want to go to Valentino’s – he just wanted to get away from here, away from any mention of the man he loved, the man he’d left behind at the hotel. Before Chuuya could reply, Angel Dust had already vanished through the club’s heavy door, leaving Chuuya alone with the man who, in just two minutes, had jeopardized a friendship of many years for a little psychological experiment.
„Are you proud of yourself now?“ Chuuya hissed, watching the door click shut behind Angel Dust. „Do you want a damn prize for driving away the only real friend I have down here?“ He snorted softly. Dazai, however, didn’t take him seriously at all: instead, he even poked Chuuya’s chest with a finger. „Do you expect me to be nice?“
Silence fell between them, a silence Chuuya loathed. Dazai stared at him, his gaze lingering on the red marks that adorned his body, and he reached out. „These are quite interesting.“ he said, touching the blood–red patterns on his skin. Chuuya flinched. The last time Dazai’s body had touched his was six years ago when he knelt over the man’s corpse. A touch from this man was both unfamiliar and painfully familiar.
„Looks like you brought your anger with you here.“ Dazai said quietly. No sarcasm, just a matter–of–fact observation. „These marks … they look like your blood is still boiling, Chuuya. Like you tore yourself apart inside at the moment of your death, even though that’s completely out of character for you. And yet you’re still so incredibly human, it’s almost frightening.“ He ran his fingertips over the patterns on Chuuya’s wrist. „Aren’t you going to tell me why?” Chuuya, however, pulled his arm towards himself. „Don’t touch me!“ he said immediately, glaring angrily at Dazai.
Fortunately, Dazai obeyed, making no further attempts to touch Chuuya. Instead, he simply spoke. „So, what do you say?“ asked the former author, gesturing vaguely towards the bar's exit. „Are you coming with me to this colorful madhouse of a princess? Charlie’s waiting, and I promised her I’d bring someone who knows how to hold a paintbrush – or at least someone who pretends to have a spark of life left in them.“
„I’ll come with you.“ Chuuya finally said, his voice firm but full of bitterness. „But not because of you. And not because of your princess. I just want to see you fail miserably in this hotel at your attempt to become a ‚good boy‘.“ Dazai grinned, an expression that looked almost painful on his pale face. „Wonderful. Let’s go for some merry soul recycling! I sincerely hope we don’t run into her.“
Before Chuuya could even ask exactly who Dazai meant by ‚her‘, his old friend was already on his way out of the bar, and Chuuya had no choice but to follow him. He stared at his wrist, which was still trembling. The red marks on his skin were slowly fading back to a dull, dark red, but the spot where Dazai had touched him felt strangely numb.
„Why this hotel of all places, Dazai?“ Chuuya finally asked as they crossed a busy intersection where a few petty sinners eyed them suspiciously. „You don’t believe in redemption. You don’t even believe in tomorrow. Why are you playing Charlie’s errand boy?“ Dazai paused briefly without turning around. One of his wings twitched as if waving away a fly. „Maybe I just really like the view from the balcony, ever thought of that?“ he replied vaguely. „Or maybe I’m amused to watch a princess try to turn dust into gold and pink glitter.“
He glanced briefly over his shoulder at Chuuya. „And as for you: you’ve only survived in hell so far, Chuuya. You hid in bars and modeled to distract yourself. At the hotel … well, there you’ll have to face reality. It’s much more entertaining, especially since everyone there is completely nuts.“
Chuuya sighed. „You’re a freaking sadist.“
„Thank you for the compliment.“ Dazai replied dryly. But he was already talking again, as if he’d swallowed a damn talking machine or a parrot. „So don’t complain about the company you’ve chosen.“
They turned a corner, and there, towering above the surrounding dilapidated buildings, stood the Hazbin Hotel. It looked like a colorful, absurd tower of hope and bad taste, illuminated by neon signs that seemed almost painfully bright in the gloomy surroundings. At the front door, they could already see a small, frantic figure armed with a broom, banging wildly on the doorposts. „Oh no.“ Dazai murmured, and for the first time that evening, he didn’t sound arrogant, but genuinely concerned. „Not Niffty. Please, no.“
Chuuya paused for a moment, staring at Dazai in disbelief. „Are you serious?“ he asked, raising an eyebrow. „You’ve surrounded yourself with all sorts of women in your life, sought death like no other ... and now you’re seriously scared of a chambermaid who barely reaches your knees?“ Dazai didn’t look back. He stared at the hotel door as if it were the gateway to a torture chamber. „There’s a difference between death and Niffty, Chuuya.“ he replied in an uncharacteristically serious voice. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and placed his hand on the handle. „You can escape death. Niffty ... Niffty is everywhere. She suggested BDSM to me the other day.“
Chuuya bit his lip to stifle a laugh as they both stepped into the lobby. It took less than a second. A red and white figure darted across the floor, so fast that Chuuya could barely keep up. With a high–pitched, almost hysterical giggle, Niffty darted toward Dazai. Instead of stopping in front of him, she used his legs and the baggy blue clothing as a climbing frame.
„Ahh, how lovely! The bad boy is back!“ squealed Niffty. There was blood on her dress – she’d probably been stabbing some bugs or rats again. But now she rubbed her cheek against Dazai’s, looking like an cat. „I knew you’d come back to me!“
Dazai simply sighed. He looked at Chuuya as if to say: See what I meant?. He flinched, however, when Niffty reached for his right wing and – whack! – plucked out a clump of feathers. Dazai winced in pain, but Niffty just giggled. „I need this for my collection! I already have fur from that porn moth’s collar, so I need some more of your feathers!“
Now Chuuya understood why Dazai found Niffty creepy: someone who collected body parts from others was truly the epitome of insanity. She plucked out another feather. Dazai flinched, a pained smile playing on his lips as he tried to regain his balance. „Niffty ... darling ... could you maybe ... “ he began, but stopped short, because Niffty had just noticed Chuuya. Her single, large eye suddenly fixed on Chuuya. She paused, still clutching the plucked feathers, and tilted her head so far it looked almost unnatural. „Oh“ she said, her voice suddenly deep and whispery. „Who’s that little one with the pretty red patterns?“
„If you touch me, there’ll be trouble!“ Chuuya growled immediately, assuming a defensive posture. Niffty looked at him, disappointed, but surprisingly made no move to reach him.
Dazai seized the opportunity to grab her by the collar of her dress and pluck her off his shoulder as if she were nothing more than an annoying insect. With his arm outstretched, he held the squirming demon at arm’s length and looked at Chuuya. „Welcome to the madhouse.“ he said, and Chuuya had to agree with his old friend: madhouse was a damn fitting term.
„I think Charlie is still with her father.“ Dazai said, still holding Niffty as if she were a ticking time bomb about to explode the moment he let go. But his reddish gaze was fixed on Chuuya. Chuuya understood what he meant: after all, it was no secret that the King of Hell was weakened, even though there were reports and rumors that Charlie hadn’t initially cared about her father, preferring to check on that walking gramophone (Alastor). But whether the rumors were true, he couldn’t say. He hadn’t been there when Vox reduced half the city to rubble, simply because he couldn’t control his god complex.
„Didn’t she leave her father– “ Chuuya had wanted to say, but he didn’t get the chance, because behind them the shadows seemed to take shape, and none other than Alastor appeared. „Are you talking badly about my dear friend Charlotte?“ he asked immediately, moving very close to them, too close for the two men’s liking. His red eyes fixed on Chuuya, and Alastor grinned. „Well, look at this.“ Then he looked at Dazai and laughed. „You’ve finally made yourself useful, my feathered trickster.“
The former author looked at the Overlord. „My work is done.“ he said, carelessly dropping Niffty to the floor. The little sinner let out a delighted cry as the impact sent a jolt of pain through her body. She was about to climb back up Dazai when Alastor stopped her. „Niffty, dear.“ his voice boomed, accompanied by an orchestral sound effect that resembled smooth jazz. „I think the kitchen is in dire need of an inspection. I think I saw a cockroach wearing a tiny top hat!“
And without a word, Niffty had vanished. But Chuuya was truly questioning every decision he had made in (and since) his life. What had he done to deserve this? He stared at the radio demon and said dryly: „You’d better keep your distance before you do something you’ll regret!“ By now, the former artist was on edge.
„Hmmmm ... “ Alastor murmured, before laughing. „No, I don’t think so!“ And then he placed his hands on the shoulders of the other two and ushered them into the lobby.