#steadvast hoteliers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

royalvelvette · 2 months

Text

dance with me, darling

Part two! Read on Archive of Our Own here; part one here.

Rating: T

Warnings: Canon Typical Language, Allusions to Canon Typical Violence, mentions of injury (non-graphic)

Characters: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Vox Mentioned: Valentino, Velvette, Niffty, Alastor, Carmilla Carmine, Zestial, Lucifer Morningstar

Word Count: 2227

Charlie was disoriented when she woke up. For the past two weeks, she had been waking up to an empty bed and maybe the sounds of Vaggie getting ready, if she was lucky. But today – today, Vaggie was still there, caging Charlie against her with her wings. Part of Charlie – the selfish part – wanted to stay like this forever, in bed with the woman she loved, Vaggie’s wings keeping them both safe and warm, the feathers rustling with each of her gentle breaths. It had been so long since there had been a morning like this, to wake up held or holding, to simply... be with each other.

(Charlie didn’t want it to end; she didn’t want to wake Vaggie up, didn’t want the wings to retract and let her out of bed. But that would be unbearably selfish, with so many injured sinners in the hotel and untold amounts still out there. No matter how much Charlie missed her girlfriend, Vaggie was invaluable in getting the injured to the hotel. She couldn’t keep Vaggie all day.)

Even still. Even still, she took one more moment to just... bask in the warmth, listening to the feathers rustle with each of Vaggie’s gentle breaths. She blinked back her tears – she was not going to cry about this, she was not – before rolling over as best she could, pressing her lips against whatever skin she can reach; trying her best not to get any feathers in her mouth and still catching one anyway. She spat it out and continued placing light, fluttery kisses wherever she could reach.

Eventually, Vaggie made a sleepy sound and cracked her eye open. “Charlie, what...?”

Charlie bit back her squeal (Vaggie was so cute), offering her a sheepish smile instead. “I think we slept through your alarm,” she said, pressing one last kiss against Vaggie’s shoulder as Vaggie opened her wings enough for her to pull free and sit up.

Vaggie bit her lip. “About that,” she said.

Charlie paused scrolling through her messages. “Are you okay? Did something happen? I can go out with you today-”

“I’m not going out today,” Vaggie said. “Neither are you. Neither is Vox, or Velvette, or Valentino.”

“Well, yeah, Velvette and Val need to stay here, and Vox is more – eye in the sky, of course, but if you can’t go, I should-”

Something like a stone settled in Charlie’s stomach. She forced a laugh. “Vaggie, what? We just started in the weapons-”

A small hand settled against her shoulder. Charlie snapped her mouth shut with a click. She set her phone back down, so she didn’t accidentally crush it. She couldn’t look at Vaggie. (No, no, no, there was still so much- she couldn’t do as much without the others, but she could go out, maybe?)

“You need to slow down, hon,” Vaggie said. “We’re all exhausted. We need a day to rest.”

Charlie jerked away from her girlfriend (couldn’t they go back in time, just five minutes, when things were nice and cozy and Vaggie wasn’t suggesting the impossible? A smaller part of her – the part that missed Vaggie, missed her friends like a gaping wound – begged her to fold, to accept the day off and go back to bed, but. But. There were still sinners out there, mortally wounded but not dead yet, possibly still crushed underneath rubble, ones who got caught in the crossfire of the post-extermination turf wars. There was still a parlour full of makeshift beds and hurt sinners; this time, she could actually help them – even if it was because she had three overlords backing her. But even three overlords wasn’t enough, with all the personalities downstairs – without Val’s smoke keeping everything calm, she had to be watching – watching, to make sure nobody got hurt under her care. She couldn’t take an entire day off, no matter how much she wanted to.

She kept her back to Vaggie as she pushed herself to her feet. “If you and the others want to take a day off, fine, but I have work to do,” she said, grabbing her suit jacket and putting it on over her nightgown.

(How much time had she already lost? Was anyone hurt? Maybe Val was downstairs; maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, but she couldn’t risk taking the time to change properly on a maybe; not when her people needed her.)

“Hon-” Vaggie started.

“No!” Charlie snapped, buttoning her jacket, still not looking. “I- I have to do this, Vaggie, it’s – this is the first time! I’ve been able to help so many after an extermination. I can’t take a day off.”

Her eyes were watering again. Charlie blinked hard – she could cry later, she could cry later; when she wasn’t about to enter a room with sinners who would jump on the smallest sign of weakness. She didn’t wait for Vaggie to respond before she stalked out of their bedroom.

(She hated fighting with Vaggie; hopefully Vaggie would forgive her. She had to do this. Why couldn’t Vaggie see that?)

Husk’s phone buzzed where it sat on the bar counter. He checked it quickly – taking his eyes off of the powderkeg in the main parlour for too long was a mistake he would only make once, thank you. He cursed when he saw the message. Angel looked up from where he was telling stories to the youngest sinners, cocking an eyebrow.

“Princess on the way,” he said, coming out from behind the counter. “Pen, eyes!”

“Yessssir!” Sir Pentious said, closing his eyes to focus as his hood flared wide and his spots started to spin alluringly.

The camera Niffty was holding made sure the hypnotic patterns broadcast to the screens Angel and him had set up last night. Pentious couldn’t hold it for very long, but Husk would (ideally) not need very long to send Charlie back upstairs. He made a quick stop in the kitchen, grabbing two plates of food from one of the kitchen workers, before continuing to the main staircase.

He met her halfway up. “Nuh-uh,” he said, “It’s your day off, princess.”

Charlie scowled at him. “I can’t take a day off, especially not with Vaggie and the others off too,” she snapped, trying to swerve around him.

Unfortunately for her, Husk was very good at being in the way. Probably had something to do with being a cat, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, he pushed the plates at her, forcing her to stop or the food to fall.

Charlie took the plates.

“You can too, and you will be,” he said. (Why. Why did it keep falling to him to do this shit. Why was it always the bartender.) “I’m the one who told Vaggie to take today off, and I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her. You’re no good to anybody if you burn yourself out, kid.”

Charlie stared at him. “But, who’s going to look after-”

Husk sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Don’t worry. Angel, Pentious, and me’ve got it for today. But! Only for today. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

Charlie kept staring at him. She looked even worse than Vaggie had, tiredness wise, even if she was cleaner. A stiff breeze could probably blow her over, as she was now.

(Alastor would want to know, said the same voice from last night, louder.

Fuck you, Husk thought back. Niffty can tell him.)

“...thank you, Husk,” Charlie said, finally. “I – thank you. I’d hug you, but...” she kind of gestured with the plates of food.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now go have breakfast in bed with your girlfriend; I don’t wanna see you down here until tomorrow.”

Vox sighed when he watched the cat demon successfully turn Charlie around through the cameras he’d set up through the hotel. She really did need a day off; he still remembered last month when the whole building shook several times during her frantic preparations. He changed his attention to make sure the pathetic snake and Angel actually had things under control downstairs; surprisingly, they did.

Vox turned his attention outward again, to the drones he’d been navigating all over the city. Vaggie being off today meant he wouldn’t be able to do anything until tomorrow – he was not going out into that destruction, no thank you – but at least tomorrow he’d have some general locations to start looking for injured. Technically, the day off was meant for him too – for all of them – but it was fine; he still had enough charge to power through at least a few more days before he had to plug in properly.

Even with most of his attention turned outward, he tracked Charlie until she was back inside her room – he wouldn’t put it past her to try and sneak down one of the back staircases. A notification popped at the corner of his view – he dismissed it quickly. Okay, maybe he only had a couple more days charge left instead of a few, but still. It wasn’t dire or anything. Once the door shut behind Charlie, Vox turned the attention he had been paying her to Velvette and Valentino’s rooms. Unlike her royal highness, he actually had cameras in there.

Velvette was scrolling through her phone, but she was still in bed – good. She would have been furious if she noticed exactly how messy her stitching had gotten over the last two weeks – a day off and some extra sleep should help with that. Valentino was exactly how Vox had left him that morning – wrapped around the body pillow Vox had shoved into his arms so he could escape the clingy idiot and get to work. At least he hadn’t woken up when Vox was leaving – then again, Val had seven alarms for a reason (and somehow still managed to sleep through them). He would probably be asleep for another few hours, at least.

Vox switched his attention again, Valentino fading from sight as he focused in on Cannibal Town. Alastor had been staying there, quiet as a mouse, for six months now – the only time he’d left, as far as any of them knew, was for the overlord meeting. It made Vox... twitchy. It wasn’t like the Alastor of seven years before; that Alastor would have announced his return loudly and annoyingly.

(He didn’t seem any different, on the cameras – same ragged coat, same asshole smile, same annoying swagger, like he knew something Vox didn’t, like he thought he was better than Vox, fucking asshole. He had literally been eating dead cannibals off the fucking street like some sort of animal – there was no way he was better than Vox; Vox was better than him. At least he didn’t eat shit off the streets.)

Vox forced himself to focus on a different feed. Whatever. If Alastor was going to keep to himself and his fucking psycho cannibals, it kept him out of Vox’s way. He had more important things to be doing than watching an old-timey nobody. He stretched out his awareness – Vaggie and him had been leaving the weapons district mostly alone; the worst of the destruction was there, but that also meant it was the hardest for him to see in. But with Vaggie off for the day, it meant he could focus on the search part of search-and-rescue.

He pinned a few locations of interest – he could definitely hear someone crying in one of the half-collapsed buildings – but kept his drones sweeping back and forth. Nobody had seen Carmilla or her daughters since the extermination; he was hoping he would find their bodies. One less overlord to worry about, and someone would need to fill the angelic weapons market – it was a bit out of his skillset, but Vox was a quick learner. He’d adapt, or hire someone to do it for him.

But there was no sign of Carmilla or her daughters among the many dead lining the streets. It was possible they had been crushed under a building, or killed inside of one (he wasn’t going to send a drone in to check, who knows how structurally sound any of those buildings that were still standing were), but Zestial had been lurking around the area too. If the old fart had found Carmilla inside a building, one of Vox’s drones would have picked it up.

Vox was about to turn his attention to the heaps of rubble (hotspots of injured but not dead sinners) in the district when a flicker of white caught his eye. His first thought was why the fuck is Lucifer out there, because there were really only two people who had white as their primary colour scheme. Then he zoomed in on the screen.

It was Carmilla. Her daughters were dragging her forward, keeping to the shadows, avoiding rubble where other sinners could be heard, and hiding whenever a territory fight got too close. Vox’s finger hovered over a button on his console – it would be so easy to use a drone to shoot them, force a reconstitution for all three, and swoop into Carmilla’s turf while she was weak. It would be so easy.

He pressed a different button, saving the clip of Carmilla and her daughters before turning his attention elsewhere. No. He had a different plan.

24 notes · View notes

providencestrashcastle · 3 months

Text

He plays with Keekee when no ones around. Velvet somehow has videos.

#my art #hazbin hotel au #steadvast hoteliers #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel keekee

59 notes · View notes

royalvelvette · 2 months

Text

dance with me, darling

Final part! The sillies are finally dancing (somewhat). Read on Archive of Our Own here.

(Part 1, Part 2)

Rating: T Warnings: Canon Typical Language, Allusions to Canon Typical Violence

(not so much a warning as a note - Valentino is a POV character in this one)

Characters: Vaggie, Charlie Morningstar, Vox, Valentino, Velvette Mentioned: Husk, Niffty

Word Count: 2456

Vaggie was about two seconds away from going after Charlie herself when she came back. She shot off a quick ‘thank you’ to Husk, made a mental note to do something nice for him sometime soon, and moved to help Charlie with the two plates of food. One good thing about the mixed sinner/hellborn staff meant the hotel had access to ingredients from the other rings – things like eggs, from actual chickens.

(She’d wondered if there was any difference between earth chickens and hell chickens, once – Charlie had gotten a picture for her. There weren’t any, though there were definitely breeds that would never be seen on earth.)

Charlie smiled at her as her arm fell back to her side. Vaggie perched on the edge of the bed; pressing her thigh against Charlie’s when she sat next to her. For a few moments, the only sounds were of scraping cutlery and eating. There was no good way to start the conversation they needed to have, though, and Vaggie tended to get stomachaches from eating too fast a lot easier. Even so, before she got the chance to speak, Charlie did,

“I’m sorry I snapped at you this morning,” she said quietly. “I just... this is the first year I’ve been able to help so many people, Vaggie, and you kind of... sprung this day off on me.”

Vaggie nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, too – I could have woken you up last night and told you then,” she said.

Charlie pressed back against Vaggie’s thigh. Forgiven, then; just like she had already forgiven Charlie. They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence. Vaggie took their now-empty plates and stood up, walking them over to the desk wedged into the corner and setting them down. She could feel Charlie’s eyes following her.

Well. It had been a while since she had had a good stretch. With a sigh, she rolled her shoulders. Then she flared her wings, grimacing as the stretch pulled on her overtaxed muscles. She really should have been warming up better these past two weeks; oh well. She stretched her wings as far as they could go without hurting too bad, held the position for a count of one- two-

On three, she let the muscles relax, stretching her arms above her head as she turned around. Charlie was watching her intently, sclera slightly red around the edges. Vaggie smiled – even on days she didn’t feel very pretty (most days, but especially now that she could feel dirt and dust and something sticky in her feathers gross), Charlie was always an appreciative audience. Normally, she would do the full routine, especially with Charlie watching so attentively, but starting with her wings had been a mistake.

(The sticky something was probably blood, fuck, disgusting, it needed to be gone yesterday)

“Shower with me?” she asked, offering a hand to Charlie.

The red of Charlie’s sclera darkened. “Please,” she answered, taking Vaggie’s hand (and nearly her arm), pulling her towards the ensuite.

“No sex,” Vaggie said. “I’m too sore right now, sweetie.”

Charlie huffed but nodded, releasing Vaggie’s hand. Vaggie sat on the toilet seat as Charlie dug around under the sink. She tucked her wings in (ugh, how had she been flying with this much shit in them?) just long enough to take her nightgown off. She would have to change the bedding after the shower; no telling how dirty it was, or if it had even been changed since before everything.

Charlie straightened up with a victorious sound, brandishing the washcloths like trophies. Vaggie clapped; Charlie took a mocking bow. The red had faded from her eyes again; not necessarily a bad thing, especially because Vaggie wasn’t lying about being sore. Charlie handed her the cloths and took her dirty clothes, tossing it down the laundry chute along with her own. Vaggie ruffled her feathers, trying to get the worst of the loose ones to shake out.

“Preening after?” Charlie asked, turning the shower on.

Vaggie nodded. “Yes, please,” she said. “I think this is the worse off my wings’ve been since my first time down here.”

Charlie offered a sympathetic look along with her hand. Vaggie took the hand gladly, sighing as the hot water (hotter than if she was showering on her own, but cooler than Charlie usually had it) hit her skin.

The shower was quick, all things considered. Charlie ended up with a feather stuck to her shin, and there was an unfortunate amount gathered by the drain, but the even just the shower had Vaggie feeling so much better. She hadn’t realized how many half-broken and just loose feathers had been in there; not to mention the lack of dirt and blood making her feel lighter than she had in... a while. She watched Charlie pick up the fallen feathers – even the broken ones – with the care of someone holding something precious; carefully setting them on the sink counter.

“Babe,” she said, “you do know we can just throw them out, right?”

Charlie gasped. “Before I get to pick out my favourites? No!” She cupped her hands, hiding the feathers from view.

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “One favourite. The nightstand is gonna overflow if you keep all of them.”

“But they’re all so good! They came from you!”

“One,” Vaggie said, trying to ignore the heat rising to her face. “One, and you have until I’m dressed to pick it.”

“But what about preening?” Charlie asked, pouting.

Vaggie fluttered her wings; pleased when nothing fell out or shifted uncomfortably. “We’ll do that tonight. I’ll braid your hair.”

Charlie sighed. “Okay...”

Charlie had managed to pick out one by the time Vaggie came back in to brush her hair. She took the rest of the old feathers and swept them into the trash as Charlie left to go get dressed herself. Vaggie took the opportunity to look at herself and winced. Okay, yeah, maybe she had been going too hard lately. She could probably get away with Charlie’s insanely early body clock, instead of waking up before dawn.

She checked her phone, just in case something had gone wrong downstairs. There was nothing from Husk, so it was probably fine – or at least, manageable. Velvette had sent her a thumbs up and a going back to bed; Valentino still hadn’t read his; and Vox had seen his but hadn’t responded. About what she expected, honestly. Niffty had sent her the area that had been set aside for the five of them today; one of the recreation rooms Vox had insisted on.

Vaggie sighed, a little more tension leaking out with it. Maybe a day off wouldn’t be so bad.

Valentino woke up slowly; a novel experience he missed dearly. The last two weeks had been nothing but work, work, work. Not to mention, his chest ached and his throat was cracked and dry all the time. Even still, he was... confused. Vox hadn’t used the body pillow trick since Charlie insisted they start helping (without! Contracts! Or favours! Just helping! For free!) those injured and displaced by the extermination. Vox always made sure Valentino was downstairs before Charlie – something something optics; he hadn’t really been listening.

So to wake up alone, wrapped around a body pillow instead of Vox, was... bewildering, to say the least. He disentangled himself from the pillow and blankets, rolling over to reach for his phone. Vox might not be here, but there was no doubt he would have left a message of some kind; if only to make sure Valentino “behaved.”

And! There was a message (two messages, even!) waiting for him, just not from Vox. Instead, it was from Charlie’s guard dog – Vaggie or something stupid like that.

Mandatory day off, the first message, sent last night, said. The second message continued, There’s snacks and shit in rec 4, if you’re interested.

Valentino made a face. His first day off in weeks – in six months, really – and he had to spend it with her? The princess, at least, was tolerable – naive but eager to please (and she was interested in the plot). Vaggie-or-something just glared at him; or didn’t even bother to pay attention to him at all. Him! One of the greatest cinematographers this side of the city! Fuck, he hated her.

He screenshot the texts and sent them off to Velvette.

mothballsack sent an attachment. mothballsack: ? bithc: yeah bithc: idk might go later mothballsack: Is vox there bithc: b fr. hes prob working

Valentino scowled before responding.

mothballsack: I’m not going bithc: bruh bithc: just drag him there??? bithc: actually yeah just. bithc: u drag vox up there n i’ll come mothballsack: cna i film bithc: gross. bithc: also cna mothballsack: eat shit. mothballsack: but u promise u’ll go? bithc: yeah yeah w/e bithc: whiny

Valentino didn’t dignify that with a response. He sighed, rolling onto his back and throwing his arm over his eyes. He didn’t want to spend the day walking on eggshells around the princess and her bitch (where the fuck did they get off being all preachy, like, what the fuck), but the thought of spending time with Vox and Velvette was... appealing. Especially if it meant Vox would actually take the day off. And he wouldn’t have to wear the suit Velvette insisted he wear in the name of ‘team spirit’ or whatever.

He sighed again before rolling the rest of the way out of bed. If he was going to this stupid thing, he was going to be the best looking demon in the room.

Velvette was tired, when she finally made her way to rec room 4. She hadn’t been lying – she had tried to go back to sleep after starting a few fights in VoxTube comments, but it just hadn’t happened. She slipped in quietly – she didn’t need Val getting on her ass about taking so long right now.

But even if she hadn’t entered the room quietly, Val was busy – dancing with Charlie? Okay, weird, Velvette still thought he didn’t like her. She stared at the pair for a second, trying to understand what her eyes were seeing; it took her tired brain that second to realize what must have happened.

Because, instead of Valentino doing the dipping and throwing like he did whenever he was dancing with Vox, he was being dipped and lifted and spun like he weighed nothing. Charlie stood taller than Velvette had ever seen her – and holy shit did that fucking do something to her – so there wasn’t the constant risk of Val hitting his head whenever he got careless.

Vox noticed her then, lifting the cup of water he was holding in a sort-of wave. His movement drew Vaggie’s – sitting on the same couch, also with water – attention to Velvette; who was maybe – definitely – checking out her girlfriend.

(Charlie??? In a dress??? It definitely wasn’t Velvette’s fault she was having trouble not staring. Holy shit she was going to make so many skirts for Charlie.)

“Velvette,” Vaggie said, grabbing Velvette’s attention.

Velvette felt heat rise to her cheeks, caught. Play it off, she thought.

She walked over to the couch Vaggie and Vox were sharing, throwing herself into Vox’s lap dramatically. “What’s up, Vaggie?”

Vaggie rolled her eyes and didn’t respond, turning her attention back to Charlie and Valentino.

...nailed it.

Velvette started poking Vox from where she was laying. Vox barely reacted, glancing down at her briefly before going back to staring at nothing. (He’d overdone it again, probably – if she had to guess, his battery was around 40%. Not enough for a crash or forced sleep, but definitely enough for the lights to be on but nobody home whenever there wasn’t multiple things for him to focus on.

Why were her boys always so stupid?)

After Vox’s frankly dismal response (not even a swat to get her to stop? Really?), Velvette turned her attention to the other soul on the couch. She didn’t poke Vaggie, though – things had been tense between them ever since Vaggie realized she had a crush on Charlie. She needed all her fingers to sew, thank you very much.

Instead, she said, “Wanna dance?” like an idiot.

Vaggie looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to dance,” Velvette repeated.

Vaggie continued to do nothing, just looking at her. Velvette resisted the urge to squirm, feeling a little like she had just stumbled into a bear’s cave. Then Vaggie sighed and set down her water, standing up. She offered her hand to Velvette.

“Okay,” she said.

Velvette blinked at her; it took her a second to reach out and accept Vaggie’s hand. She hadn’t actually expected a positive response – hadn’t really expected to ask the question, if she was honest.

(Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely fair to call Vox and Val idiots all the time, if she was gonna do stupid shit like this whenever she had a crush on a pretty (taken) girl.)

And the thing was – the dance was a little out of Velvette’s wheelhouse; slower than she was used to; but Vaggie was good. At dancing. She dipped Velvette and lifted her into spins effortlessly, hands firm but not too hard around Velvette’s waist.

“Do I even weigh anything to you,” Velvette asked during a pause between songs.

“Not really,” Vaggie said. “You’re an easier partner than Charlie.”

Then the next song started, and they were off again. By the time the third song finished, Velvette was breathless – meanwhile, Vaggie barely looked ruffled aside from the strain around her eyes. Vaggie let go of her, patting her on the shoulder.

“That’s enough for now,” she said. “Juice?”

“Yeah,” Velvette said. “I’m just gonna... sit down.”

She stumbled over to the couch (why were her legs so wobbly, what the fuck) Charlie was sitting on, having switched places with Vox at some point.

She beamed at Velvette, squealing, “You and Vaggie looked so good together!”

Heat rose to her face again. Vaggie passed her a cup of maybe-apple juice, sitting on Charlie’s other side. She wrapped a possessive arm around Charlie.

“It was nice to spin someone,” Vaggie said, staring at Velvette over Charlie’s shoulder.

Velvette stared back and tried not to remember the feeling of Vaggie’s biceps. “It was fun,” she finally said; taking a sip of her juice.

Velvette tuned out the girlfriend’s conversation after that. She had bigger things to worry about – like how the fuck was she meant to deal with having a crush on both of them?

Shit.

25 notes · View notes

royalvelvette · 2 months

Text

dance with me, darling

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F, M/M, Multi Relationships: Charlie Magne | Morningstar/Vaggie, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Valentino, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Velvette, Charlie Magne | Morningstar & Vox, Valentino & Velvette & Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel) Characters: Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Velvette (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Overworking, Overworked Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Autistic Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs a Hug, Husk is Bad At Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Good Significant Other Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Overworked Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Idiots in Love, Dancing, Self-Esteem Issues, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Two Shot Summary:

Local quintet need to slow down and take a break, seventy-year-old cat man says.

Read on Archive of Our Own here.

once again breaking up the originally a one-shot into a two-parter because the setting information got away from me. Second part (the sillies dancing) will post either later tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Part 1 under the cut. Word count: 1753

It was finally quiet in the hotel. Not completely, in the way of well-populated areas, but quieter than it had been since... since.

(Charlie didn’t want to think about since. About red red blood, and missing limbs, and still nearly running out of medicines even after Auntie Belphagor had sent some up expressways, and the amount of dead still in the streets when, normally, the cannibals would have cleared the majority by now.)

It was a quiet she desperately needed; too many nights had been lost to passing cot-to-cot while Val kept everything calm and Vaggie was out in the streets, pulling in even more wounded (there had been so many buried underneath the rubble that remained of the once-bustling weapons district). Vox was usually gone as well – his drones made him invaluable when trying to find anyone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, call out. Velvette helped out where she could – usually upstairs, stitching and restitching wounds when the original stitches inevitably got pulled. She just... needed a moment. A moment alone, to herself, in the quiet, because if it was quiet it meant nobody was hurting. (Charlie was tired of her people hurting).

She slid down the closed door of their bedroom, sighing, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. She just... wanted to rest. Wanted to see Vaggie for longer than twenty minute intervals or however long it took them to fall asleep at night. Wanted to see Velvette stitching new outfits instead of skin, wanted to hear Valentino speak without his voice coming out scratchy and cracking, wanted Vox to be present at the hotel instead of having his eyes in his drones. Want-want-want, what a selfish creature – her people were injured and dying, and here she was wanting things that would keep them from being helped.

... Charlie allowed herself to wallow for a minute more before pushing off the floor. Val needed more water, probably, and it wouldn’t hurt to check in on Velvette and see if she needed any more supplies. Maybe, if there was more quiet time later, she could spend some time with Vox and see if she could spot Vaggie on the feeds.

Husk was only a little annoyed about the fact he had been unceremoniously promoted to hotel manager. He got it, he did – Vaggie was out in the streets every day, the Vees had shit to do, and the princess was trying to help everyone at the same time like she always did, but he didn’t sign up for this shit.

(He didn’t really sign up at all, but, well. Al said jump, he jumped. Even if he didn’t want to.)

It wasn’t supposed to be his job to direct the staff, keep Niffty from causing too many problems, and put out metaphorical fires. He was just a goddamn bartender! His job was keep his bar clean, keep it stocked, and sling booze to order while drinking some himself. Sue him, sometimes he missed being an overlord, but managing the souls under him to keep the casino running smoothly? That wasn’t one of them; and yet, here he was, doing that same thing except with none of the fucking power that came with it.

(And, honest to God, if one more imp got uppity with him about being told to keep the parlour clean so none of the injured chucklefucks got infections, he was going to tear the unlucky bastard’s head off. Something had to be done; preferably before he lost his job.)

Opportunity struck that night, as luck would have it. (Who the fuck was he kidding – luck hadn’t been on his side since the day his soul stopped belonging to him.) But whatever it was, it wound up with Vaggie sitting down at the bar for the first time in two weeks. It was the first time Husk had really been able to get a look at her – at any of them – since everything went down. And Vaggie?

Vaggie looked like shit. Her wings and hair were matted with blood and dirt, the bags under her eyes rivalled his, and she was barely managing to sit upright on her stool – only doing so by leaning against her spear. If the Vees and Charlie were anything like this – and his bets were on yes – it was worse than he thought. Something was going to give, and give soon.

(Alastor would want to know, something in his mind whispered.

Fuck off, Husk thought back. The thought of Alastor anywhere near this place, near these people, made his fur stand on end.)

He pulled some Beelzejuice out from under the counter and got a stein ready. Vaggie still hadn’t said anything, staring blankly past him, but that suited Husk just fine. Getting the drink ready would hopefully let him get his thoughts in order so he didn’t sound like a total jackass.

(There wasn’t really a nice way to say “If the five of you don’t take a break soon, you’re going to end up useless,” but he really wanted to find one. Last thing anybody needed was the fallout from Vaggie trying to stab him when she was too tired to reign in her impulses.)

Vaggie snapped out of her stupor when Husk slid the mug – maybe a bit too full, with how some slopped out – over to her. She nodded her thanks, but didn’t move to pick it up. Husk busied himself with the spill; anything to put the conversation off a little longer. He watched Vaggie out of the corner of his eye as he did; just in case. She seemed fine, and eventually moved to sip at the drink, then chug it down like a woman dying of thirst.

He tossed the soiled rag into the bucket behind the counter before leaning against the back wall. “You got a sec before bed, boss?” he asked.

Vaggie set the mug down a little harder than strictly necessary. “Not really,” she said. “Gotta get an early start tomorrow, y’know, digging people out of the rubble and all.”

Husk’ll give her credit – she kept the unlike you quiet. “About that,” he started. “You... uh, you sure you don’t want to take a break?”

Vaggie snorted. “What, and stand around like you do? No, I have to-”

“I ain’t doing nothing,” Husk snapped, “I’m doing your fucking job since you’re never here. You think I want to be tellin’ imps and sinners what to do? I didn’t sign up for that shit!”

Vaggie’s face twisted into a half-snarl, half-frown. “What, you want a raise? A medal? Newsflash, asshole, we’re all doing shit we didn’t sign up for right now-”

“I don’t need that shit, I just- you guys-”

Vaggie stood up, and even though her eyes were nearly level with the bar, her furious glare made up for it. “Whatever, I’ll – I’ll deal with it, fuck, give you a raise, hire someone else-”

“You ain’t fuckin’ listening to me.” Husk could feel his own temper threading. “I don’t want a raise, I want you to take a break!”

“I can’t!” Vaggie snarled. “If I stop, Charlie’ll-”

Snap. The last of his patience fled with a near audible sound as his legs extended and shoulders widened, wings flaring, yellow iris glowing vibrant against his black sclera. Even still, his voice didn’t rise above a hiss.

“You all need to stop. The five of you aren’t gonna last like this,” he said. “You’re no fucking use if you burn out before you can finish working. And...”

He shrunk back to his normal size, forcibly reigning in his temper. Vaggie was staring at him with wide eye, spear held in a white-knuckled grip – ready to fight or flee, didn’t matter. What mattered was she was silent, and paying attention.

“I’m. Worried about you,” Husk said finally. “You – don’t need to end up like me. You five need to take a break, all of you.”

Christ, but he hoped Niffty was busy upstairs somewhere. Vaggie was still just – staring at him, though the grip she had on her spear had relaxed somewhat.

Then her eye started to water and her face contorted and oh fuck, fuck he wasn’t – he couldn’t handle crying people on a good day. She sniffed once, hard, scrubbed at her eye. Husk held his breath, terrified that one wrong move from him would set her off. He could still only sorta handle Charlie crying, and that was because she cried a lot.

Vaggie took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay,” she said, voice just this side of wobbly, “okay. I’ll... we’ll take a day off. I’ll make sure of it.”

Husk let some of the tension out of his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “Good.”

Vaggie turned to leave, but then turned back, pointing at him with her spear. “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’ll-”

He waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll write you an apology letter or whatever. Go to sleep, kid.”

Vaggie felt a little bad as she finally slipped into the room she shared with Charlie. The lamp was still on, even though Charlie was fast asleep, book hanging precariously from her fingers. That suited her better than if Charlie had still been awake, but still – she missed her girlfriend, and these moments before sleep claimed them were some of the only ones they had been getting. Hopefully, her plans for tomorrow would make up for it – if Charlie wasn’t angry about them. Vaggie carefully crept closer to the bed, pausing as Keekee lifted her head from her spot against Charlie’s side.

Vaggie raised a finger to her lips.

“Mrrp,” Keekee said, snuggling closer to Charlie but otherwise ignoring her.

Vaggie carefully took Charlie’s book, setting it face down on the end table. Charlie’s phone screen lit up dimly at the motion, then again when Vaggie picked it up. She inputted the password and navigated to the clock app, grimacing at exactly how early the alarm was set for (her own alarm wasn’t much better), before turning it off. Her own was already turned off, and she had done the same to Velvette’s and Valentino’s. Vox’s was a little trickier because of his internal clock, but hopefully – hopefully – he would respect the text she had sent him instead.

Mission done, Vaggie set her girlfriend’s phone back down – this time face down. Charlie was going to be furious when she woke up tomorrow morning, but Husk... was right. They all needed a break – Charlie probably most of all.

24 notes · View notes