SELL YOUR SOUL (VOODOO SHOULDN’T BE MESSED WITH) ✶ VOX
see part two!!
summary after alastor laughed in his face, vox made a deal with an overlord.
tags/warnings second person pov, she/her pronouns when character’s refer to reader, no use of y/n cause people know you as voodoo, manipulation, vox is lwk in love with you buuuttt it doesn’t have to be read as romantic, i don’t have a massive understanding of hbht lore as i don’t consume anything but the show so some things may be incorrect, spoilers for season 2 of hazbin hotel, 2k+ words, lmk if there’s anything i missed
authors note hihihi i’ve been really enjoying the new hazbin hotel season so i wanted to write something!! uh just to put it out there as well, while i do like hbht — i don’t support viziepop at all. anyway i hope you all like it ^^
After Alastor rejected him, Vox felt completely and utterly helpless, as though the ground had been pulled out from beneath his feet.
He had thought Alastor was his friend—he had admired him, looked up to him, even idolised him. And this is what he gets in return? It's not fair!
Vox walked down the street, kicking at rocks and groaning at the fact that it had started raining. He didn't even know that it could rain in Hell, but apparently the universe was determined to make his misery complete.
Stupid. God, he's so stupid. Of course Alastor, the Radio Demon, wouldn't want to be partners with him. He's just a stupid, pathetic-
"Hello, Vox," a voice spoke angelically from the shadows as he passed a dark alley.
Vox turned with a frown, his screen flickering slightly. "Who's there?" he asked, trying to hide the fear creeping into his voice.
He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around, only to be met with an empty street. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, pounding against his ribs.
"Vox…" a voice sang out, like a siren's call.
Vox turned in a circle, frantically trying to see anything that could hint at where the voice was coming from. And that was when he saw it — a door slowly opening in the alleyway, right at the very end, spilling warm golden light onto the wet pavement.
"Come on, Vox," the voice sang out once again.
Vox's feet moved before his mind could decide whether he should follow or not, almost as if he had no control over his own body like the voice itself was moving his limbs for him.
He walked through the door with furrowed brows, trying to make sense of what was happening. The door shut behind him with a soft click, leaving him in a room that was warm and inviting, which was nice, considering he was soaking wet from the rain.
"Hello?" he called out cautiously, jumping slightly when old jazz music suddenly started playing from multiple radios scattered throughout the space. The sight of the radios made him frown deeply, because it brought his mind right back to Alastor and the humiliation he'd just endured.
He shook his head forcefully, trying to dispel those thoughts, and walked further into the room.
it was like stepping into a crowded antique shop, and Vox found himself accidentally bumping into things as he walked, the room seemingly going on and on, stretching endlessly before him until he finally saw a silhouette sitting at a circular table, gracefully pouring tea from an ornate teapot into two cups.
He felt something push him from behind, and he stumbled backwards falling into a chair sliding across the floor on its own, pulling him towards the table.
"How do you like your tea, sweetheart?" that same ethereal voice asked, but the darkness surrounding you covered your face completely from Vox's view, leaving only your silhouette visible.
"I'm sorry, what is this?" Vox asked with a confused frown.
"How do you like your tea, sweetheart?" you repeated, your tone unchanging, almost like a broken record stuck on the same phrase.
"Tell me what the hell this is!" Vox demanded, his voice rising as his anger and frustration increased.
"How do you like your tea, sweetheart?" you repeated once more.
Vox sighed heavily, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Milk, no sugar," he finally answered, deciding it was easier to play along.
You poured the milk into his cup before passing it to him, his wet shirt dripping water droplets onto the polished table surface when he reached forward to take it.
"By golly, you're absolutely soaking," you observed. "Here-" You waved your hand gracefully, and a gust of warm wind suddenly spiralled around Vox before dissipating, leaving him completely dry. Vox looked down at his now-dry hands in shock, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he processed what had just happened.
"Who are you?" Vox asked hesitantly, looking up at you, though he still couldn't make eye contact due to the shadow that covered your features.
"Well, let's not bother ourselves with such small details," you replied dismissively,. "Now tell me, Vox, why were you crying?"
"How did you know I was crying?" he asked, frowning suspiciously.
"I have eyes and ears everywhere, darling," you said simply. "Now, why were you crying?"
"It doesn't matter," Vox mumbled, looking down and fiddling nervously with his fingers, unable to meet your gaze even if he could see it.
"Oh, now don't be like that," you gently reprimanded. "I'm here to lend an ear. Sometimes it helps to talk about these things."
"Uh…" Vox sighed deeply. "There was this demon Overlord that I thought I was becoming friends with. But he… he laughed in my face when I asked him if he wanted to work together. Which really sucks because I genuinely looked up to him. I admired everything about him. I thought maybe we could be partners, equals even. But I was wrong."
You sat there silently for a long moment, letting his words hang in the air between you, before finally speaking. "My dear, why would you trust an Overlord? They're notorious for their treachery and self-interest."
Vox shrugged helplessly, not having a good answer, feeling even more foolish now that someone had pointed out what should have been obvious all along.
"What was the deal?" you asked him, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
"Huh?" Vox responded, confusion evident in his tone.
"The deal," you repeated patiently, as though explaining something obvious to a child. "You wanted to work with the Radio Demon, so I assume you offered him some sort of partnership agreement."
"I didn't mention that it was Alastor I was talking to,” Vox replied defensively, his body tensing as he tried to stand up from his chair but an unseen weight pressed down on him, holding him firmly in place and not allowing him to leave his seat. "Let me go!" he said angrily, his screen flickering with agitation. "I don't know what game you're playing, but let me go-"
"Let's not quarrel," you interrupted. "It's not good for relationships."
Vox glared angrily at you. "Let. Me. Go," he repeated slowly, emphasising each word.
"What are you going to do, Vox?" you asked rhetorically, a hint of amusement colouring your voice. "You have no power in here. And even if you did, you couldn't overpower me. Most people can't."
Vox was silent for a long moment, his brain trying to piece together what the hell was happening and who exactly you were.
"You're an Overlord," he finally said, the realisation dawning on him.
"They were right! You are smart!" you exclaimed with what sounded like genuine delight.
"They?" Vox questioned, his confusion deepening. "Who are 'they'?"
He jumped slightly when he felt a cold hand settle on his shoulder, turning his head sharply and seeing his own shadow grinning at him menacingly.
"Now, Vox, if I'm not mistaken… you want power, right?" you said, leaning forward slightly in your chair.
Vox nodded silently, unable to deny it even if he wanted to.
"Well, I can give you that power," you told him matter-of-factly. "You just have to shake my hand." You extended your hand toward him, holding it out expectantly in the space between you.
"What's the catch?" he asked warily, not trusting you at all despite the tempting offer.
"No catch," you replied , your hand still held out for him to take. "Well… you just have to get your name out there, build your reputation. And I'll do the rest."
"I'd like to know the whole plan before I make any deal with you," Vox insisted, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.
You scoffed dismissively. "The whole deal is that I own your soul. Simple as that. And in return, I'll help you build your empire from the ground up. And while they aren't dead yet — I'll even get you some friends to help along the way-"
"What do you mean 'aren't dead yet'?" Vox interrupted, his curiosity getting the better of him. "How can you see the living? I thought that was impossible for sinners."
"The more questions you ask, the less inclined I am to help you, Vox," you said, a warning edge creeping into your previously friendly tone. "So why don't you just shut up and shake my hand?"
He stayed silent, unmoving, weighing his options carefully.
"Come on…" you coaxed, your voice taking on that siren-like quality again. "Won't you shake a poor sinner's hand?"
Vox would've liked to say that he never shook your hand — that after Alastor laughed at him, he created his own empire with no outside help. But he can't. He can't say that because he shook your hand. He made a deal with you, and you own his soul.
God, it's pathetic. You've set up everything for him and the Vees. I mean, the second Val and Vel died, you got them to make deals with you as well, helping them all become the biggest names in Hell.
Of course, you would be the biggest name if you bothered to leave your home, if you didn't just send your stupid shadows to do your dirty work.
He doesn't even know your name, for Hell's sake! You've owned him for almost seventy years, and he doesn't even know your fucking name!
Well, technically.
Not your real name, at least. He only knows your stupid fake name that other people call you. Voodoo.
Even thinking about it for too long makes him angry. Angry because he hates you, and angry because he so desperately wants to know more about you. He wants to know everything there is to know about you. And not even for a sinister reason, not really. Just because he thinks you would be a good front and centre addition to the team. Because how amazing would it be if he could get the Voodoo to join his team properly? Because, while yes, you are technically on his team now, you're the coach, not a player like he is.
Today he has his regular meeting scheduled with you. Once a month, he comes into your shop, telling you about what's happening and his master plans. Although he doesn't truly understand why you need these meetings as he knows you're always watching through your shadows — he is very happy to see you again and always has a skip in his step the day of.
He has a binder full of information to show you, walking down the familiar alleyway, your door already open for him.
With how much he comes here now, he doesn't flinch when the door shuts behind him, nor does he bump into any objects, having now figured out the best way to make his way through your clutter.
"Hello, hello!" he greets you with a grin, falling into the chair that pulls him to the table.
"You seem chipper, Vox," you noted, pouring him a cup of tea
"Hell yes, I am!" he exclaimed. "I have so, so much to tell you!"
"Well, I'm all ears, sugar."
Vox rambled for a while, telling you stuff you quite frankly already know, but you didn't bother telling him that. In fact, it's nice to hear the difference in stories from other points of view. You took a sip from your tea as you listened.
"And me and the Vees are going to overtake Heaven!"
You spit out your tea in shock. That part you were not told about by your shadows.
"What!?" you yelled, turning into your demonic form with your shadow overtaking both Vox and yourself, darkness swallowing the room.
Vox cowered, lowering himself in his chair. "Uh, yeah… we, uh… we- we planned to overtake Heaven, uh… to become God, basically, and be the strongest people in the afterlife…" he explained, his voice trembling.
"You stupid, reckless fool!" you yelled. "What in the name of all that's unholy were you thinking?"
Vox wanted to cry. He thought you knew. He thought that maybe his shadow or Valentino's or Velvette's shadow had reported to you and told you of the plan before he came here.
"I- I- I thought you knew," he whimpered, his screen flickering with distress.
"Well, obviously I didn't, now did I?" you snapped. "Lord have mercy, Vox, I expected better from you!"
"You-" Vox cut himself off, trying to figure out how he could fix this. "You could be God. You… I mean, you own my soul! Instead of me being God, you can. You can rule over everything. You'd be perfect for it!"
Your shadows dwindled slightly but still left you being a black blob of darkness.
"You know good and well how much I hate the spotlight, Vox," you replied, your tone stern. "You ask me every single meeting if I would join you and the Vees, and my answer was always no. And now you expect me to want to be God? Child, have you lost your mind?"
Vox stayed silent, unable to meet your gaze even through the darkness.
"And, by the way, you think you, of all people, could be God?" you asked, disbelief colouring your words.
Vox frowned, the words hurting him more than he thought possible.
"You thought itty-bitty Vox could play God?" you continued, your voice taking on a mocking edge that cut deep. "Sugar, that's just plain foolish."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're a joke, Vox! The only reason you're so powerful is because of me! And I can take that away just as easily as I gave it to you. So do not — and I mean do not — go through with that plan, or I will tear you and the Vees down so fast it'll make your screen spin! You hear me, honey?"
Vox stared at you for a long moment before speaking, his voice small. "Okay." He nodded slowly. "I'll… I'll get rid of the plan. We won't do it. I promise."
Your shadow form disappeared, leaving only an unclear view of your face.
"I want you to leave, Vox," you told him, your voice quieter now but still firm. "I need some time to myself."
"What?" he asked with a frown, confusion and hurt evident in his expression. Usually, after chatting over business, you and he would talk casually almost like friends. Those were his favorite parts of these meetings.
"I don't want to see you right now, cher," you said, rubbing at your forehead, trying to ward off a headache. "I need to think, and I can't do that with you here."
Vox sighed heavily, standing up from the chair. "I'm sorry," he told you, his voice genuine. "I didn't mean to make you upset. I really thought you knew. I would never…"
He trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He walked away from you, towards the door of the store. Once he was out, he turned to look at the door when it shut, watching as it disappeared into the wall as it always did.
He stood there for a moment, and the more he thought about your reaction and your mean words, the angrier he became.
"Fuck you," he muttered under his breath as he walked away. "Fucking fuck! I'm going to fucking take over Heaven anyway. She can't fucking stop me. Fucking asshole. Who does she think she is?"
But even as the words left him, doubt gnawed in his mind. Because deep down, he knew exactly who you were and he knew you absolutely could stop him. But damnit to hell if he wasn’t going to try.
authors note
okay hihi i hope you guys enjoyed that!! i might write a part two (or make this a series) once more episodes come out because i do have a few more ideas but it’s not definite
also.. i just want to mention how funny i find the part where voodoo said overlords are only known for their self interest and then less than a few moments later vox was like ‘okay!! i’ll make a deal with you!!’ he so stupid 🥹🥹 i love him
but whatever byeee
