Chapter Text
It’s a bright morning in hell as you step outside your door in a flattering dress and a pair of black mary janes with silver bats.
You’d told yourself that you would only spend a maximum of an hour getting ready but it’s evident by your perfectly styled hair and makeup that you spent much more time than anticipated. You try to convince yourself it’s fine as you take a deep breath. You've always been a little insecure about your sinner form, you aren’t ugly by any means but you definitely miss your old human appearance. Putting in just a little more effort today makes you feel indescribably beautiful and that’s all that really matters you suppose as you close your door with butterflies in your stomach.
You’d bought the dress from Velvette’s latest fashion collection just about a week ago and you’re glad to see that it fits and hugs your body in a way that seems to make your insecurities vanish.
You glance down at your phone as a sinner runs screaming across the street, “Just another day in hell", you think wryly as the man is casually shot down by a pair of loan sharks. You wave to one as they tip their hats to you and drag the man away, one even apologizes for the blood on your doorstep. You are well known in this part of the Pentagram, you’ve been in hell for long enough that you are more powerful than the average sinner and can hold your own, but the politics of being an overlord have never interested you and you’ve mostly kept to yourself. Your neighbors treat you well enough, they’re as friendly as denizens of hell can be.
Your attention is drawn back to your phone as you feel it vibrate in your hand. You see it’s a text from the person you’re going to meet, your date. Your heart skips a beat, it feels like an eternity has passed since you sought a relationship with another person. You’d only tried once during your time in hell and it had ended in a messy break up where you had refused to try again, but you’d been feeling lonely recently and after a drunken night at a bar with a friend you’d decided it was time to try again.
Your friend had recommended you a dating app, which you’d begrudgingly tried although the concept didn’t necessarily appeal to you. The idea was that you set up your profile on the dating app based solely on your interests and personality. This meant no photos, and hopefully no catfishing. People matched with you based on whether your vibes matched rather than appearance. The idea was surprisingly sweet, but when your dating pool is filled with sinners, most of whom had killed one or two people in their time, it tends to sour your hope for finding anyone who’s intention isn’t just to lure you out and then rob you blind. You didn’t feel like you had much to lose at this point though, you’d been spending too much time absorbed in your job at Voxtek and you needed a distraction. You’d purposefully chosen an outfit you felt somewhat comfortable fighting in as well, though hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
Your face grew warm as you read the text on your screen. You’d matched with a man just two weeks before and had been texting almost nonstop since then. He appeared to be very confident, if not arrogant, and seemed to be looking for a genuine connection just like you. You’d gotten to talking about your shared hobbies recently and he’d started geeking out about sharks, which you found incredibly endearing. You had bought some shark gummies for him, which you’d hidden in the purse you wore.
“I’m on my way, be there in ten,” you responded quickly as your fingers tapped rapidly against the phone, you hadn’t realized just how long you’d been standing on your front doorstep with your car's engine running as if it were impatiently grumbling at you to get going.
You make sure that no one’s lurking in your car ready to mug you before entering, it’s something you did out of paranoia in the human world but now it genuinely feels like a necessity.
Your date insisted on going to a diner for your first date. You were tempted to guess the year he’d died based on that but you’d kept your mouth shut. The diner was a cute little place with the usual pink and red decor of hell. You couldn’t help but laugh at the neon signs proudly displaying the words, “Cocaine”, and “Milkshakes” as if the two items had anything in common. You weren’t sure whether to sit at the bar or by the windows where there were white and red cushioned sofas. It reminded you of home as you ended up sitting by the window. You remembered going to diners as a kid, your parents had been quite fond of them and they were commonplace in your home town.
A waitress came by to hand you a menu with a cheerful smile as she saw you nervously playing with the ketchup bottle beside you, “Waiting on somebody?”
You startled, not expecting anything but the usual dead stare workers in hell tended to wear, “Oh, uh, yeah…”
The waitress whistled and winked at you, “Well they’re definitely lucky to get a date with a cutie like you.”
You didn’t know how to respond as your next few words came out in a rushed stutter, “Oh, t-thank you!” The waitress shot you a toothy smile, “I work over at the casino too if you're ever looking for a good time, I’d love to take you out for a date if that lucky somebody doesn’t strike your fancy.”
Your little bisexual heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. The waitress has a round face with white freckles and red skin. Her hair is tied up in two buns shaped like spades and it doesn’t shock you when she says she works at the casino. It’s clear by even her makeup that her look is card inspired.
“I-I might even take you up on that,” you say in a weak attempt to match this girl’s charm, “you're a busy woman, huh?”
“I like it that way,” she assured as she brushed off her uniform, “I perform as one of the Huskettes at night, never gets old.”
“Huskettes?” You echo as you try to filter through every program that you’ve ever seen run on your Voxtek television. You’d gotten it back when you’d been hired and had never bothered to get a new one.
It suddenly clicked and your eyes lit up, “Huskettes, like the overlord Husk? I used to watch your group all the time! Your voices are amazing!”
The woman’s smile had faded during the time it had taken you to remember, but as soon as you’d reacted it came back full force. She placed a finger to her lips and giggled, “Thank you! Yeah, Husk ain’t so bad either. He’s barely been around the place though since the Princess’s Hazbin Hotel sprang up, funny considering he owns the casino.”
“Oh, looking to get ‘redeemed’?” You ask.
It surprises you that anyone even bothered to show up to the hotel with the way Katie Killjoy has been slandering the place. Not to mention it’s common knowledge that Lucifer’s daughter isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
“Redeemed? Fuck no! The Radio Demon’s dragged him over there to work as a barista!” The Huskette wiped away a tear of laughter, “I’m sure it’s driving that old man bonkers.”
You’re surprised this waitress has all this time to flirt and gossip with you while she’s on the clock, but it doesn’t seem like her manager is all that concerned as he scrolls on his phone from behind the counter. It’s still relatively early so the diner is mostly empty.
It’s as if the waitress reads your thoughts as she slips you a sheet of paper with her number and name on it, “Welp, time for me to get back to work, even if you are not interested in a date you seem like a pretty funny gal, why not drop by for a visit later tonight~me and the girls will be performing. Seeya later, gumdrop!”
“Gumdrop, huh?”,you think with blush still coloring your cheeks, “that’s a new one.”
You look at your watch as the butterflies in your stomach are replaced with a mounting dread. “He’s probably just late”, you assure yourself as you nervously shuffle your feet around under the table. After what happened last time you went on a date you can't help but feel anxious.
That’s when something catches your eye outside the window and your breath hitches. A Voxtek limo just pulled into the parking lot. You fight the urge to duck under the table, the last thing you need is a reminder that there’s still a mountain of work to get done when you go back to the V tower on Monday. With any luck it will be Velvette or Vox. You can’t stand Valentino. He’s always trying to recruit you to be one of his “stars” and makes you run odd errands on top of what Velvette already makes you do as her assistant alongside Melissa. You can’t say you’ve exchanged many words with Vox. Most of the time he’s holed up in his room keeping the company afloat. Though you heard from his assistant, Ethan, that he’s been acting strange lately, he’s been happier than usual.
You momentarily forget about your impending doom as you think about your little alliance of assistants. It’s a crappy job where everyone feels they have the right to treat you like dirt but at least you can trauma-bond together and it pays well. Melissa will be wanting to hear all the details about this date tomorrow, after all she’s the one who’d suggested all this to begin with. You aren’t sure whether you should be happy or worried when Vox steps out of the limo. He’s not dressed in his usual blue suit and is instead wearing just a simple dress shirt and a black and red waistcoat. You can’t help but instinctively look away as you catch a glimpse of his face.
A TV has no right to look that hot.
Just that glimpse is enough to remind you how and why Vox won the “hell’s hottest” poll that had been going around all summer. You stick your hand into your purse hurriedly so that you can check your phone which has suddenly begun to vibrate once more. Your heart nearly skips a beat when you read the text, “I’m here.”
Your eye twitches for a moment as you look between the nearly empty parking lot and the door. There are only so many people who could possibly be “here”.
“There’s no way,” You breath to yourself shakily, “No fucking way.”
You hesitantly move to text back, “I’m already inside. I got a table by the window.”
Just as you send your text you make sure to peek from behind your open menu to see whether Vox moves. He has his phone out too, maybe it’s just a coincidence? He looks up and towards where you're sitting and you fight the urge to run. What are the odds that you match up with an overlord, never mind Vox, on a dating app? The concept by itself makes you cringe as you fight to stay seated.
“It would make sense though, wouldn’t it?” You murmur to yourself, “The entire Pentagram knows about him…maybe an anonymous dating app is exactly what he’s looking for.”
You laugh at yourself, ready to be relieved and most likely disappointed when Vox inevitably walks right past you. You send a description of what you're wearing and put down your phone face up on the table.
Vox enters the Diner with his trademark reassured smile and adjusts his shirt. He looks like he hasn’t doubted himself once in his life as the manager who had been scrolling just moments ago rushes to greet Vox as if god himself has graced him. They exchange words briefly as Vox looks back down on his phone. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath as he finally walks up to your table and clears his throat,
“Hi, are you waiting for someone?”