ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ | ᴠᴏx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) part 1/?... perchance perchance... in this au, hellborn's are immortal (but they cant regen if killed). Also, I imagine reader as a shark/fish/eel looking-demon, since reader is from the envy ring (I believe they're called possesors), but I won't make it too specific and try to keep reader up to interpretation. (maybe ill do a lil bioluminescent tail or smth idk we'll see in future chaps)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You, a Hellborn demon from the envy ring, are a new employee at the Hazbin Hotel! Upon hearing the news of Sir Pentious' redemption, you packed your bags and headed for the Pride ring! Charlie Morningstar, the manager and creator of the establishment, welcomed you with open arms, offering room, board, and a decent pay. Because of the overwhelming amount of people signing into the hotel, they were desperate for employees, and with you being the only new worker, you had your hands full! Especially since they decided to be the caretaker for their newest and most reluctant resident, Vox.
ᴄᴡ: user is a hellborn demon from envy ring, user has a tail, prelogue scene, vox's (almost) death, naked vox, jackass vox, drunk vox, sad vox, confused vox, accidental grabbing
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.9k
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
PROLOGUE:
-takes place during S.2E.8 in an au where Alastor had beaten Vox and the Vees were taken care of by the rest of the crew-
Dust and smoke permeated throughout the hazy battlefield of the entertainment district. Denizens were screaming, helping each other out of the rubble caused by Vox's madness, and— Wait, was that singing?
Vox lifted his head up to see Overlords and demons surrounding his weapon, using their powers and "care bear stare"-esque tactics to destroy it. He watches as the machine falters and plummets to the ground, leaving it among the rubble as a battered king of Hell stumbles out of it on shaky feet.
The TV overlord shifts his gaze downward, watching as bits of glass from his screen fall to the floor below him. "God fucking dammit," he breathes out, his screen projecting "SYSTEM FAILURE" to his eyesight.
The familiar sound of black and red boots clacks against the floor before stopping at Vox's moribund body against the floor. "The fᵾȼꝁ do you want?" Vox asks, mustering up a grimace towards the Radio Demon.
Alastor chuckles, "Oh nothing, just catching a glimpse of your pathetic self one last time, old pal. Besides...". His broken staff firmly plants down onto the palm of Vox's clawed hand, tearing a guttural groan of pain from his throat.
Alastor grins, his neck creaking unnaturally to the side, "I wan't this to be the last thing you see before you dare threaten to regenerate.". The deer demon turns on his heel to leave before feeling a hand wrap around his ankle.
"Płɇasɇ," Vox begs, "Ɏoᵾ cān'ŧ łɇavɇ mɇ ħeɍe łɨꝁe ŧħɨs.".
"Oh, but I can," Alastor hums, beginning to walk away before hearing Vox chime in once more:
"Ȼ'møn Al, ɏøᵾ ȼan'ŧ đø ŧħɨs ŧo me. Ɨ'łł– hahh! Ɨ'łł ɇvɇn sŧaɏ aŧ ŧħaŧ fᵾcꝁɨnǥ ħoŧeł!"
Alastor pauses before erupting in laughter, spinning around to face Vox once more, "You wish to stay at that fruitless hotel to escape death? If you're truly that pitifully desperate, Vincent, then ͬ̅b͊͗e̔ ͙̗ͬͩ̊m̩͈͕y ͍̺̖ͭͪg͊u̲̦ͦes̍ͭt͓̙͔͊".
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
Beep Beep Beep
"Ughhhhh," you groan, the incessant beeping of your alarm clock waking you. Wafting your hand out, you attempt to pause your alarm but fail, accidentally hitting the "repeat" button in the process:
Beep Beep Beep Bee—
Sitting up, you grab your phone and angrily press the "Dismiss" button. "Fuckin' time change," you mutter, the blankets whipping to the other side of your bed as your throw them off of you. You'd lived in pride now for, what, a month or two now?— and you were still stuck on Envy time!
Swinging your legs over your bed, you hop out, landing perfectly onto your slippers with a soft thud. "Alright," you say to yourself, stretching your arms over your head, "time for work.". The closet creaks as you open it, revealing your work outfit which you had hung up the night before.
You found yourself a job at the Hazbin Hotel, a place located in Pentagram city where sinners can redeem themselves for the greater good! After hearing of Sir Pentious', a former sinner's, redemption, you were drawn to the cause of helping others achieve salvation for themselves. So, you packed your bags and left the Envy ring and headed to Pride!
It was a rash decision, yes— but luckily Charlie, the creator of the hotel, eagerly accepted your help! After the news broke out about redemption, sinners eagerly flocked to the hotel like moths to a flame; however, the Hotel was very understaffed having not expected such popularity. So your help was pretty much more a relief to them then it was to you.
After getting ready for work, you walk through the crowded crimson corridors and head downstairs. Nifty, the hotel's... maid?— you weren't quite sure of Nifty's position, nobody really was— was already scurrying across the lobby, cleaning up the mess of pancakes that Lucifer Morningstar had created for breakfast.
You give a polite smile and a wave to the two before heading over to the reception desk, a station you'd been in charge of managing since you got the job. Just then, Charlie approaches you with a friendly two hand wave and a bright smile that spread the two prominent blush marks on her cheeks, "Hi y/n! How's it going this morning?"
"It's going good," you smile, gesturing to the bustling lobby around you, "I expect a busy day toady!".
"Right right," she fiddles with her hands nervously before continuing. "B-Before you ~get a move on~" she says, her sentence drifting into a sing-songy tune to cope with her nervousness, "Vaggie and I thought you could cover a small duty for us...".
Your eyes focus in on Charlie, watching her rattle a she musters up to courage to ask you something. Charlie had given you many tasks before, and you had eagerly accepted with no problem— what was it about this task that got her worked up?
Standing up from your chair, you offer a small smile to console her, "Okay, no problem. What is it exactly?".
"Ahaha, that's the thing," the princess chuckles nervously, "You see, one of our, uh, tenants has been regenerating for awhile and he's rather... difficult, so it's usually up to me or Vaggie to care for him."
"Right—"
"But Vaggie and I are out of town for a meeting with Carmilla so we had to pass off the duty... Husk would probably forget and Alastor should definitely not be anywhere near this tenant— foorrrr no particular reason, ahah...". Charlie fluttered and stumbled over her words, giving you broad context for your task at hand, leaving you more confused than before.
"Let me get this straight," you say, "You want me to take care of this tenant?".
The princess shakes her head, "No no, just check on him in about an hour! All you have to do is put new water in the vase inside and call us if he regenerates— which he probably won't.".
With a small nod, you agree to the task, "Sounds easy enough, you can count on me.".
"Good!" she beams, "I'll leave the key on the desk then!". Charlie digs into the pocket of her red slacks and sets down a black metal key on the reception desk.
Vaggie, the hotel manager and girlfriend of Charlie, suddenly approaches with a concerned expression, "Charlie, c'mon, we're gonna be late!".
"Right hon, just one more thing— Make sure to oomph!".
Vaggie grabs Charlie and pulls her out towards the door, catching her off guard momentarily. Halfway out the door, Charlie yells out to you, "Make sure to call us immediately if you need anything okay! It's room 22914 And don't hesitate to—".
The door shuts with a resounding thud, cutting off Charlie's voice. "Okay then, good talk?" you mutter to yourself, trying to grasp everything that had suddenly happened before you, "There's always something going on in this Hotel..."
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
An hour passes and you post up the "back in a bit!" sign Charlie had made for you for when you took your breaks. The chair squeaks as you stand up from it, pushing slightly back behind you. "Finally," you breath out, stretching your arms above your head.
"Alright," you mutter, "let's go check on this 'mystery resident'.". Walking out of the reception desk, you make your way to the resident's room.
As you walk into the hallway of the 22nd floor, Alastor materializes in the form of a shadow just before the door in front of you. "My dear!" he exclaims, "what exactly is a lady such as yourself doing up here! Is it not your job to work the front desk?".
You smile politely at him, "It is, but Charlie needed me to check on this resident so—".
"Why, I should accompany you, my dear!" he states, spinning you around before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Uhh," you hesitate, Charlie's voice echoing inside your head: "Alastor should definitely not be anywhere near this tenant".
"I'll pass," you say, stepping out of Alastor's grasp.
The corners of his smile twitch, a flicker of annoyance in his gaze before straightening himself out, "My dear, don't you think someone should come along with—".
"I'll pass," you assert, your confidence fading as you gaze up at the imposing figure before you "but uh... thanks for the offer.".
His smile stays firmly planted on his face, though his eyes narrow and bore into yours, "...Very well, dear. Do call for me if you need anything.".
"Yeah, sure," you respond, watching as he disappears into his shadow on the floor.
A shiver runs down your spine once he leaves, his presence leaving a cold, evil aura in his wake. "Fuckin' creep," you mutter to yourself. You approach the door to room "22914" before using the key Charlie left you to unlock it.
..."Hello?" you call out as you step into the dark room, "Jesus!". Slimy black chords scatter across the room, lighting up the darkness with bright blue currents of electricity running along them. You carefully hop over the wires and follow them to the bed, where a cocoon-like structure lie.
Hundreds of wires connect into a ball atop the mattress, almost pulsating as if it were alive. Curious, you gently reach out and poke a thick chord wrapping around the side, a bright green and cyan sludge oozing out from it.
"Ew ew ew ew ew!" you squirm, wiping the sticky fluid off onto your pants. With an exasperated sigh, you grab the vase on the nightstand adjacent to the bed and head into the bathroom. You pour out the dirty vase water into the sink and fill it with the tap from the faucet.
Behind you, the wire cocoon begins to pulse in more rapid and shallow beats. You hum a tune as you make your way back to bedroom, unaware of the wires beginning to slither away from the center of the cocoon.
Just as your about to set down the vase, you head a strange squelch behind you accompanied by a thud. Turning around to face the sound, you're unexpectedly faced with a completely naked TV headed sinner covered in blue sludge.
"AHHH!" you scream, tossing the vase at the entity in fear.
"Gah! What the fuck?!" he stumbles back in pain, grabbing the part of his screen you hit.
"Oh my god!" you cover your mouth in shock, "I am soooo sorry!".
He responds with a glare and sits back on the bed, "Fuck yeah your "sorry"! Who the hell even are you?!".
"I'm y/n," you introduce, "and you are—? Wait, you're that sinner guy who tried to blow up Pride".
"Ding ding ding, that's me," he says sarcastically, his voice gravely and exhausted, "can I get some fucking clothes now?".
"I have to get Charlie!" you say, to which the sinner immediately stands up with wide eyes.
"No! Don't— Don't do that," he says, "just... at least hold off alerting anyone for now... I just need a fucking minute.". You step back and furrow your eyebrows, considering his request.
On one hand, you really should give the guy some space— regenerating months after almost destroying the entire Pride ring couldn't be an easy adjustment— but on the other hand, did you really owe this asshole anything?
The TV overlord looks at you, his red eyes looking into yours with desperation and exhaustion. You sigh, "Fine, I won't tell her— but she's bound to find out.".
"I know.".
You nod at him before slowly making your way out of the room, your hand hesitating over the knob. Should you just... leave him here? Who knows what he's capable of? You turn your head to look over your shoulder, seeing the overlord hunched over on the bed, his claws perked up in the air.
He grunts softly, mustering up a small, weak, spark of electricity from his fingers. Dropping his hand back down, he sighs and stares back onto the ground below him in contemplation.
You grab the knob more firmly and head out the door. 'He'll be okay,' you think to yourself, closing the door behind you softly.
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
You couldn't stop thinking of the sinner— Vox, you learned his name was— and the look of despair on his face. He was undoubtedly horrible, you'd seen the headlines and videos sprawled about the internet that compelled you to the hotel in the first place:
Manic Overlord Nearly Wipes out Pride Ring!
A Death Wish, or Small Dick Energy? Watch this new clip of The TV Overlord getting Pwned by Ex!
Denizens of Pride Band Together to Rebuild Wreck Caused by Crazed Overlord
It filled you with anger and dread knowing that pride can drive someone to such dangerous depths. But behind it all, you saw something. You weren't sure if it was necessarily good, but behind those large crimson eyes was something other than "Manic" or "Crazed"— something entirely different that you wanted to explore.
As your desk, you angle your computer away from anyone passing by and scower the internet for information on him. You weren't surprised when all you could find was propaganda of how great he is— he's practically controlled all tech in Hell, after all. Who wouldn't erase any disparaging info about them?
Just then, you find an interesting article posted about 40 years ago:
The Iconic Overlord Duo: Vox and Alastor
This was different from what you'd seen. It painted Vox in a good light, as always, but it explored something deeper, something you hadn't known before. Could this be the tip of the iceberg for Vox's actions that day? Is that why Alastor was forbidden from seeing Vox? Could this—
"Hi there, y/n!" Charlie says, seemingly popping up out of nowhere.
You yelp at the surprise visit, immediately slamming the laptop shut and facing Charlie with a nervous smile, "H-Hey Charlie! What, uh, what is up?".
She glances between you and the computer for a moment before continuing, "Well... I was just wondering if you could do me another favor.".
"Oh?"
"You see," she begins, fiddling with her hands nervously as she did the first time she proposed a favor, "our resident Vox has regenerated and well— he refuses to see me or Vaggie for any help on account of our... history.".
She taps the tips of her pointer fingers together before scrunching her face, hesitantly adding, "And, well, we'd rather not see him either after everything— It's really uh... a conflict of interest!".
"So you wan't me to counsel him?"
She shakes her head, "Not quite— At least, not yet. Just... check on him every day... make sure he's eating. And then we can discuss slowly introducing some redemption tactics.
The beat of your heart thuds against your chest rapidly, your eyes perking up widely at her words— Was she offering you a position in the redemption process? "I-I accept!" you reply, a bit more loudly then intended. You clear your throat and continue in a more subdued manner, "Uh, I mean, thank you for the opportunity. I'd like that".
Charlie smiles softly, "No, thank you. Really! I must warn you... he's more difficult then he seems— so don't be afraid to be a teeeensy bit tougher than you normally would.".
"Kick his ass if needed!" Vaggie calls out from the lobby's communal living space.
You chuckle and watch as Charlie's smile tightens uncomfortably. She didn't necessarily disagree with Vaggies sentiment, in fact, it seemed as though she just couldn't quite put it into words the way her girlfriend so eloquently did.
"Riiiight," the princess chuckles nervously, "Sooo, you'll do it?".
"I will," you nod.
Charlie squeals and claps excitedly, "Thank you thank you, Y/N! All we need from you today is to get him to eat dinner.".
"Sounds easy enough," you remark.
Charlie scoffs, "You'd think so...". Seeing the confused look on your face at her comment, she changes her tone to a more lighthearted one, "But you'll be fineee!".
"Uh huh..."
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
You approach room 22914, a bowl of soup balanced in one hand while you knock on the door with another. "Vox?" you call out, "I'm coming in with food.". No response. With a heavy sigh, you unlock the door and push it open, revealing a dark room littered with torn wires.
'Jesus, it's still a fucking mess in here,' you think to yourself. Vox is laid out on the bed, now thankfully clad in black sweatpants and a t-shirt, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. Attempting to brighten the depressive mood throughout the room, you hold the bowl of soup up and call out in a sing-songy voice, "I brought souuup!".
The overlord stays planted on top of the bed, unamused by your antics. "Not hungry," he simply says, his voice deep and strained.
You sigh and sit on the side of the bed, stirring the soup idly, "It's realllly good...".
Glancing over, you see he's still unenticed to eat. With a sharp sigh, you turn to him, "Look, the sooner you eat, the sooner I leave you alone. So just, please eat, okay? You'll feel better and you won't have anymore unwanted company.".
Vox thinks over your words for a moment, contemplating a decision before sitting up and roughly grabbing the soup from your hands, "Fine.". As Vox begins to eat, you can't help but feel a tinge of pride in yourself. You'd gotten him to eat. That had to be something, right?
"Soo, I heard Vaggie and Charlie came in to check on you..."
"Mhm.".
You sigh at the curt response, your leg bouncing anxiously off the bed frame, "...How come I was the only one you'd allow in?". Metal clanks against the ceramic bowl as he abruptly drops his spoon, silence settling between you before he erupts in laughter.
"Sweetheart, do you think you're special or something?!" he asks condescendingly.
You narrow your eyes at him, " 'Scuse me?".
He rolls his eyes with a smirk, "Did you really think I made an exception for lil 'ol you because you're just so great? Hahah! Not quite, Doll. Honestly, you just pissed me off the fuckin' least.".
Your face scrunches in frustration, an agitated groan escaping you as you stand up from the bed, "Fine! Enjoy your fucking soup alone, dick!". You walk out of the room, your tail purposefully swishing back to knock down the vase you'd previously thrown at him before.
The door slams behind you resounding crash, shaking the room around Vox slighty. "Hmph," He exhales, a soft smile projecting across his lips before lifting a spooful of soup to them, "Feisty.".
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
A day passes and you'd barely interacted with him. As petty as it may sound, his words cut deep, and you didn't feel like being forcing a "buddy-buddy" relationship with someone who clearly didn't respect you in the slightest.
Sure, you reacted a bit harshly... but give yourself a break! You were new at the job and with dealing with sinners in general! Besides, Vaggie and Charlie did say to be a bit rough with him. You'd earn his respect one way or another. It may take time, but you were determined to gain his trust. Just maybe not tonight.
1 AM
Missed Call from Charlie
Incoming Call: Vaggie
You stir awake to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Picking up your phone, you answer the call in a groggy voice, "Hello?"
"Y/n!" Vaggie shouts, her deep voice piercing your drooping ears, "Emergency! Vox got fucking wasted at the bar and won't leave!".
"What?!" you perk up instantly, "Who the fuck let him get wasted?!".
"Husk doesn't care enough to refuse service," she says, "but it doesn't matter now— we need you here stat!".
"Alright, I'm on it," hanging up the phone, you hop out of bed and throw on a hoodie and slippers. You burst out of your room and quickly step down the stairs into the lobby.
Immediately, you spot Vox slumped over the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he blabs angrily about something. You sigh and walk over, your arms crossed firmly against your chest, "Vox, c'mon, go back to your room. It's late.".
He grunts and turns to you, "Fuck d'you think you are? Telling me what to do?! I'm the most powerful sinner in Hell!".
"Please don't make this harder than it needs to be—"
" 'M not making it harder!" he points a finger accusingly towards you, "You are the one shakin' me around actin' all tough like your... your Brutus!".
"I—" you pause, furrowing your brows at his comment, "Brutus?".
"The shark, not the murderer.".
"I don't—"
"The shark, not the murderer.".
"Yep, got that thanks," you say, dragging a hand down your face in defeat. Just how drunk did he get? And what the hell is Brutus the shark? Either alcohol activated some weird fact-retrieving part of his brain, or he was past the point of no return and making things up. Likely the latter.
Sitting beside him on a bar stool, you try to coax him out of the chair, "Can you just please go to bed? If you drink anymore your gonna wake up and feel like shit.".
"I already feel like shit when I wake up," he mutters, laying his upper body across the counter languidly, "I fuckin' wake up in this tacky shithole everyday, powerless, and alone—".
He pauses, turning away from you for a moment and banging his fist on the table. Was he... choked up? As if it had a mind of its own, your hand reached out to comfort him; but, you stopped it, your arm hanging in the air before dropping back to your side.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you try to clear your head and think of the right thing to say, "You're going through a lot, Vox. It's okay to feel the way you do... But wallowing in your misery and refusing help isn't going to make you feel better, you know that.".
Vox's shoulders slump, his hands bracing either side of his screen as his body shakes with every shallow breath he takes. "Vox," you gently call out, "take a deep breath.".
His eyes flutter shut, a soft breath escaping him before reluctantly getting up, "...Fine. Let's go...".
Hopping off the stool, he walks swiftly to the staircase, wobbling slightly to the side as he does. You catch up to him and open your mouth to speak before being cut off:
"Don' talk. Just stop fuckin' talking for once."
You scrunch your face at him but relent, muttering "okay" before escorting him up to his room.
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
On the way up to his room, Vox's center of gravity was totally thrown off by the elevator and ended up dramatically crashing in your arms, almost crushing you in the process. Now, you approach 22914 again, this time with a bratty half-asleep Vox in your hands being dragged against the carpet.
You would've carried him, but he was about double your size and, honestly, he deserved to be dragged a bit. Once inside, you toss him onto the bed with a grunt of effort and draw the curtains. As you do, you feel a hand grab your lower back, bordering on the top of your ass.
"Val," Vox incoherently mutters, "come back to bed...".
You gasp and toss his hand off of you, watching as he immediately falls back into sleep. "Oh crap—", you should probably leave before he further confuses you for someone else again.
Grabbing the room key from the bed, you stuff it into your hoodie pocket and quickly scurry out of the room. Once you quietly close the door behind you, you lean against it cover your mouth contemplatively.
Vox's mind was an enigma— no doubt. But it clearly went deeper than you thought. You weren't even sure if you were prepared to explore those depths— and yet, you were drawn deeper and deeper with every interaction.
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
hope u like my vox x reader fic! maybe a series who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ:
@6esiree , @boldlyenchantingfox22 , @v0x1e , @bagofrice
