Chapter Text
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel glowed beneath the onslaught of Sinsmas décor Charlie had enthusiastically unleashed upon it. Warm lights twined along the walls and doorframes, strung everywhere the princess could reach. Glittering garlands were draped over the stair railings with little regard for symmetry, and an almost offensively tall Sinsmas tree dominated the center of the room, like a festive monument no one had asked for, already fully decorated as well.
Charlie stood proudly at the front, practically vibrating with excitement as if she were hosting a royal summit instead of trying to manage a room full of sinners who looked like they would rather be anywhere else. She clapped her hands the moment she felt she had everyone’s attention — or, more accurately, the moment everyone stopped actively resisting her efforts to gain it.
Angel, who had claimed almost the entire couch, was scrolling through his phone while Cherri lounged beside him, her boots propped comfortably on the armrest. He glanced up with an exaggerated sigh. “This better be good, sweet-cheeks. I got a shoot in an hour, an’ I have ta’ get ready.”
“Well!” Charlie said cheerfully, bouncing on her toes as she showed a stack of colorful, hand-drawn presentation cards. “Thank you all for coming! I know you’re busy, but I have something super exciting to share with you today!”
Vaggie stood next to her at the front desk, arms crossed. She wore a tired, resigned expression that might suggest she had already endured this exact speech at least three times during practice but had accepted her fate.
Husk tipped his half-empty bottle back, the smell of cheap alcohol unmistakable. “If this is another motivational speech, I’m leavin’.”
“It’s not!” Charlie promised. “Well— kind of— but also more!”
Sir Pentious, cramped into what limited couch space remained with KeeKee curled in his lap, looked as if he’d been pulled away from something vastly more important. He leaned toward Cherri, eyes squinting. “I smell more holiday propaganda.”
Cherri popped her gum. “If it doesn’ involve me blowin’ up the fuckin’ tree, I’m not interested.”
Niffty sat on the edge of the couch, bouncing with restless energy. “I love presents! Unless they’re still alive. Alive presents are always a pain.”
Alastor stood near the old television, lightly leaning on his microphone-cane as his eyes scanned the room. “Do enlighten us, my dear.”
Charlie beamed at them as if she didn’t notice the collective skepticism radiating through the room. “I’m so glad you asked!”
She pinned several of her drawings to the board, gesturing enthusiastically as if they followed a clear progression, rather than looking like they’d been made at three in the morning in the same awkward, overjoyed style she always used for announcements no one asked for.
“As you all know,” she continued, “the holidays are just around the corner, and Sinsmas is a time for giving, warmth, and... togetherness! So I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for some more team-building activities!”
The silence that followed was disheartening.
"Oh, great,” Husk muttered, taking another sip of his drink. “Kid, the last time you made us do a group-bonding activity, Pentious cried.”
“I DID NOT!” Pentious hissed. "...I merely objected strongly to the blindfold portion.”
“Right,” Husk grumbled, rubbing his face. “So what’s it gonna be this time? Decorating cookies? Singing carols? I’m not wearin’ that stupid Santa hat again.”
Charlie ignored their protests with impressive determination. “Even better! We’re doing a Secret Santa gift exchange here at the hotel!” She gestured to one of the cards depicting cartoon versions of everyone gathered around a tree, each holding a present. “It’ll help us grow closer as a team and really experience the true spirit of Christ— Sinsmas!”
“Charlie,” Vaggie interrupted softly, placing a hand on her arm as a subtle attempt to calm her down.
Pentious raised a finger. “May I suggest an alternative? How about we do not participate in this ridiculous mortal custom?”
“Seconded,” Husk grunted.
“Well, I think it sounds lovely!” Niffty chirped, though she was saying this while dusting an imaginary speck of dirt off one of the presentation cards.
Charlie cleared her throat and glanced at Vaggie for moral support before turning back to the group. “We’ll each draw a name from a bowl,” she explained. “Then you’ll pick a thoughtful present for another resident. It’ll be fun!”
Angel shrugged. “Eh. I dunno, Charlie. Half of us don’t even like each other.”
Charlie’s smile faltered for the first time, but only for a heartbeat. Then something near-mischievous sparked in her eyes.
“Well,” she said casually, clasping her hands behind her back in a gesture that was hardly subtle, “I thought participation might increase if I told you one more thing.”
Angel raised a brow. “Yeah? Like what?”
She paused, clearly savoring the moment. “As a little thank-you for helping out… I invited Vox to join us.”
Angel shot upright so quickly the couch squeaked in protest. “Wait— Vox? The Vox? Big V? Mr. Sugar Daddy himself?”
Cherri snorted. “Well. This just got interestin’.”
Angel’s eyes lit up as his mind started racing at an alarmingly fast pace. “Okay, okay— hold up. If Vox pulls my name, that means I could get somethin’ expensive, right? Like, really expensive. Like— new V-Phone that’s about to drop expensive?”
“That’s not how a Secret Santa works, Angel,” Vaggie said, already annoyed. “It’s supposed to be a secret. You draw a name randomly, and you don’t get to influence who gives you anything. And it’s about thoughtful gifts, not expensive ones, anyway.”
Angel pouted, arms folding loosely over his chest. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure he’d be real thoughtful, whateva’.” Despite himself, he still looked fully invested.
Alastor, on the other hand, looked anything but.
The Radio Demon’s shadow twitched along the wall like an agitated creature, and the low hum of radio feedback around him grew sharper with annoyance. “Perish the thought,” he said coolly. “We are not inviting that infuriating picture box.”
Angel let out a low whistle. “Oh, hell yes, we are. If Vox is in, count me extra in.” He leaned back, already daydreaming. “You ever seen his place? That Daddy’s got serious provider energy. I bet he gives diamond-level gifts.”
Husk snorted, already reaching for another bottle. “Keep dreamin’. You ain’t gettin’ diamonds from him.”
Vaggie visibly bit back several choice words, giving both of them a glare that promised consequences later. “Both of you, shut up! This isn’t about ‘getting stuff,’” she said pointedly, fixing Angel with a look. “It’s about…” She hesitated, glancing at Charlie.
“Strengthening bonds!” Charlie supplied immediately. “It’s a chance for everyone to do something thoughtful and meaningful for each other!”
“Why would he even agree to that?” Husk asked. “Guy barely made it through that commercial you forced him into.”
Charlie straightened, trying very hard to look confident and not quite succeeding. “That’s exactly why! He helped us, so it’s only polite to thank him. And what better way than inviting him to our holiday activities?” Her eyes flicked briefly to Alastor. “Besides… I think it’s time we… mended some fences around here.”
Alastor laughed the moment he caught her gaze. “Oh dear, you can’t possibly be suggesting that he and I—” He waved the idea away with a flick of his wrist. “Preposterous.”
Charlie tilted her head. “Why not? You two are actually pretty similar in a lot of ways—”
“I can assure you, we are nothing alike,” Alastor cut in, his smile tightening.
She turned fully toward him then, her expression softening into something carefully earnest. “I really hoped you’d participate too, Alastor. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“I’m quite certain you’ll manage without my involvement,” he replied, already looking as if he was about to leave.
Charlie stepped closer, still smiling but with the palpable threat level of a mother who has decided you will take a family photo and you will look happy doing it. “It would mean a lot to me. And to everyone. And it would be wonderful for… bonding.”
Alastor’s eye twitched. “Bonding,” he echoed, radio static prickling around him. “With that pathetic piece of plastic waste?”
Angel, who had been following the exchange like a tennis match, giggled. “Aw, what’s wrong, Smiles? Scared your ex-lover’s gonna show up?”
Alastor visibly bristled at that. “He is not my ex-anything!”
Husk laughed, shooting him a sideways look. “You’re probably just scared ’cause you’ve never given anyone a gift they actually liked.”
Alastor stiffened. “I’ll have you know, I give the most excellent gifts.”
Charlie tilted her head again, eyes brighter than before, if that was even possible. “So… you’re joining, right?”
Alastor stared at her. Charlie beamed back. Finally, with the grace of someone accepting a punishment he couldn’t publicly refuse, Alastor inclined his head. “…Of course,” he said icily. “How could I possibly refuse?”
Charlie squealed and threw her arms around Vaggie in triumph. “Yes! Great! Then it’s settled!” She turned back to the group. “I assume everyone else is in, too?”
Husk grumbled but shrugged. “Whatever. Don’t think I got much of a choice.”
Niffty bounced in place, practically vibrating. “This is gonna be so fun! I already have a million ideas!”
Cherri shrugged too. “Eh. Why not? ’Tis the season an’ all that crap.”
Sir Pentious adjusted his hat proudly. “If everyone else participates, it would only be fitting for a gentleman of my stature to take part in this festive endeavor as well!”
“Perfect!” Charlie clapped her hands. “I’ll get everything ready for the drawing. Everyone, be here for the weekend to get your assigned giftee!”
As the group began to disperse, Vaggie caught Charlie’s gaze, her expression skeptical. “You sure about this, babe? You know how they get around each other.”
“That’s exactly why I’m doing it,” Charlie said softly. “They just need a little push to see they’re not so different, and that they can still be friends.” She smiled, hopeful. “Gifts can fix everything, right?”
Vaggie sighed, but her smile was fond. “If you say so.”
Charlie returned it, along with that familiar spark of unwavering optimism in her eyes that was bright enough to soften even Vaggie’s doubts.
Behind them, as everyone else drifted back to their previous activities, Alastor lingered near the tree, his smile just a touch too strained. He had a growing suspicion of what Charlie was attempting, and it left an uncomfortable warmth curling in his chest — together with a rather terrible suspicion that he was about to be maneuvered into something much worse than a simple holiday activity.
~❄~
The next day, Charlie found herself staring up at the imposing, glowing monolith that was V-Tower. Up close, it looked even more intimidating than she had expected. The problem was that, despite confidently announcing her plans, she hadn’t actually asked Vox to join their little bonding activity yet. It had been one hell of a bluff.
Still, after somehow managing to convince even Alastor, she was more determined than ever to see it through. After all, wasn’t that in the spirit of the holidays? Bringing people together? Even people as stubborn, volatile, and mutually obsessive as Vox and Alastor?
The heavy glass doors at the entrance slid open as she approached, allowing her inside. She paused just long enough to take a steadying breath, clutching the small notebook filled with what she’d labeled as her absolutely bulletproof arguments tighter to her chest, before stepping inside.
She had never been alone in V-Tower before, and it showed. As she surveyed the massive lobby, she felt lost instantly, and within moments she had the distinct, sinking realization that the place was a goddamn labyrinth. Fortunately — credit where it’s due — she’d at least remembered to schedule an appointment instead of just dropping in unannounced. That hadn’t gone so well last time…
Even better, Vox had actually agreed to see her! That alone felt like proof that this was a great idea and would definitely win over the TV demon’s heart.
After a few minutes of standing around, trying not to seem like a lost puppy, an attendant — one of Vox’s assistants, most likely — appeared and guided her toward what looked suspiciously like a private elevator.
The moment the doors slid shut, Charlie’s confident facade began to crack. She stood awkwardly beside the assistant, her fingers tightening around her notebook and the small gift bag filled with holiday cookies she had baked as a peace offering. She rehearsed her speech again and again in her mind, smoothed her clothes without realizing it, then did it once more, and finally caught her reflection in the mirrored wall, forcing a smile.
It looked… strained.
The ride up did nothing to calm the nervous flutter in her stomach. She tried to be logical, reminding herself that she’d spoken to him before, worked with him, even, and that he had been friendly and charming then as well, so why shouldn’t he be now? This was just a friendly invitation — a gesture of genuine goodwill, so to speak. There was no reason for him to be mad at her for trying, right?
The elevator dinged, and they stepped onto the smooth floor that led to what she believed was Vox’s office. With every step, her unease grew heavier in her chest. Everything about this place seemed designed to make her feel unwelcome, as if her presence alone was already an inconvenience.
The assistant stopped in front of a large door with a giant V-shape, gestured toward it, and promptly left her alone.
“Okay, Charlie,” she muttered to herself. “You got this. He helped with the commercial. He likes you. He’ll appreciate the invitation. I’m sure he will.”
She drew in another deep breath, put on her most determined expression, and stepped inside.
“I swear on all seven rings, Ethan, if this is about the Valentino issue again, you can turn around and fuck right off.”
Vox stood near his floor-to-ceiling aquariums, where the sharks lazily circled behind the glass. A tablet was in his hand as several holographic screens hovered around him, displaying graphs and charts. He didn’t even bother looking at her. Well, maybe she should’ve knocked first.
“I don’t have time for this right now!”
Charlie cleared her throat nervously. “Uhm… hello?”
At the sound of her voice, Vox finally looked up, recognition flashing across his face. “Oh. It’s you.”
Charlie offered her brightest smile, trying her best to keep it from trembling. “Hi, Vox! Thank you for seeing me on such short notice!”
He didn’t return the smile, but at least he set the tablet aside and dismissed the holograms before sitting behind his desk. “Sure. Whatever,” he said flatly. “I had a five-minute gap between meetings. You’ve got four minutes and twenty seconds left.”
Well, that was… a little harsh, but she’d kind of expected as much. Vox was a very busy man, after all, and the fact that he’d made time for her at all meant a lot!
“I just wanted to thank you,” she said warmly, stepping forward to place the bag of cookies on his desk before taking a seat. “For helping with the hotel commercial. It meant a lot to m— us! All of us. Really.”
Vox glanced at her, unimpressed, raising one eyebrow slightly. He didn’t even acknowledge the cookies. “Good for you?”
“No, really! You're incredible for doing that! And for letting it run on your channels, too! We never would’ve reached that many people without you.”
Vox sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Look,” he said flatly, “according to my assistant, you were pretty insistent about this appointment. So how about you spare me the flattery and get to the fucking point?”
“Well…” Charlie hesitated, her smile faltering for just a moment before she forced it back into place. “Since you were so generous with your time, I wanted to return the favor by inviting you to the hotel for Sinsmas! I’ve planned a fun activity to show appreciation and help everyone connect—”
“No.” Vox cut her off mid-sentence with a quick flick of his wrist, a dismissive little shooing gesture, as if she were an ad he could skip.
Charlie blinked. “I… sorry? What?”
“No,” he repeated, tapping a claw on the desk. “I’m not interested in hearing whatever nonsense you’ve come up with this time.”
She crossed her arms, pouting despite herself. “You don’t even know what I was about to say!”
“And neither do I want to.”
“But—”
“No,” Vox said, lazily summoning another holographic screen and immediately starting to type, as if she’d already left, while pointedly reaching for his coffee. “I’m not interested in taking part in any of your nonsense.”
“But it’s not nonsense!” Charlie protested, wildly gesturing with her hands. “It’s about spreading cheer and generosity, and maybe connecting with others during the season—”
Vox burst out laughing, cutting her off again. “Wait, seriously? You’re joking!” He leaned back, laughing openly now. “You actually came all the way here… to ask me to participate in one of those stupid little projects of yours to make everyone ‘bond’ and ‘get along’?!” He made exaggerated air quotes. “Fucking pass.”
Heat rushed to Charlie’s cheeks. His outright dismissal stung more than she expected. Still, she hadn’t come all this way just to give up at the first sign of resistance. This wasn’t just for her. This was for Alastor! And Vox! For both of them! These two stubborn sinners would be happier if they just stopped pretending they weren’t miserable without each other.
She took a small, steadying breath. “It would really help the hotel,” she tried again, forcing optimism into her voice. “You coming would set a great example. And it’d mean a lot to me personally—”
“Oh my fucking god.” Vox dragged a hand down his screen. “Does it look like I’d care?”
She pressed on, her voice still steady despite the knot in her chest. “It’s only for one evening! Look, I planned this Secret Santa gift exchange, and I thought it might even be nice for you to relax and enjoy something heartfelt for a change—”
Vox laughed again, louder than before, until he noticed her surprised and slightly hurt expression. He paused, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “Holy shit. You’re actually serious.”
Charlie flinched as he stood and moved around the desk, looming over her. “Let me make this simple for your limited mind,” he said coldly. “I don’t do ‘bonding.’ I don’t do ‘giving.’ And I sure as hell don’t waste my time or money on sentimental garbage that doesn’t increase revenue.”
She recoiled at the sharpness in his tone, her gaze dropping to her clenched fists in her lap. “I— I’m just trying to include you—”
“Don’t.” Vox’s voice dropped, dangerously low. “You don’t need to ‘include’ me in anything. I didn’t help you out of the sheer goodness of my heart or whatever bullshit you got twisted in that head of yours. I ran your stupid commercial because it benefited my brand, not for you.”
“But—” her shoulders sagged, and she still didn’t dare look at him. “But I thought maybe—”
“You thought wrong.” He stepped closer. “I don’t give two fucks about your little sinner daycare. Got it?”
Charlie’s heart sank. She knew Vox could be difficult, but she hadn’t expected him to be so harsh. She bit her lip hard enough to hurt. She really hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but the fate of her entire plan depended on Vox agreeing.
So she tried the last thing she had left.
“Alastor will be there too,” Charlie added softly. “Maybe you could... spend some time together?”
She looked up at him, hoping that mentioning the Radio Demon might soften his mood.
It didn’t.
If anything, it made things worse. An angry spark jumped between Vox’s antennae as he suddenly grabbed her chin, forcing her head higher. She had no choice but to stare straight into his spiraling eye.
“And why the fuck do you think that would make me want to come?” he snarled, his voice dropping several octaves.
Charlie gasped, hands flying up to his wrists, trying to pry herself free, but his grip didn’t loosen. Bad approach, very bad approach! “N-no! I didn’t mean— I just thought maybe if you two—”
“If you’re about to suggest any scenario where I ‘bond’ with that old-timey prick,” Vox cut in sharply, “I swear I’ll throw you to my sharks for dinner.”
She went completely still. “Vox, please—”
“Vox, please,” he echoed, even using her own voice, which was pretty unsettling. “Do you ever shut up? Are you even listening to yourself?” His grip tightened slightly. “You sound like a broken record. I am not participating in your ridiculous little project. I don’t want to see him. In fact, I don’t want him anywhere near me at all!”
Her eyes burned. “I’m… I’m just trying to do something good,” she said, voice trembling. “For everyone. For you, too.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” he snapped.
She didn’t stop looking at him like that.
“Those sad, pathetic puppy-dog eyes?” he continued, tapping a claw against her forehead. “They don’t work on me. We’re not friends. We’re not allies. I don’t even fucking like you! You’ve got something seriously twisted in that stupid little head of yours, princess.”
That did it.
Charlie let out a broken hiccup as tears spilled down her cheeks, no matter how hard she tried to stop them.
“Oh, for—” Vox released her like she’d burned him, stepping back with a look of pure disgust. “Are you fucking crying right now?!”
She wiped at her face frantically. “No— I’m fine, I—” She obviously wasn’t, and the tears just kept coming.
Vox threw his hands up. “Unbelievable. I do not have time for this.”
“You come in here begging for favors that don’t benefit me,” Vox went on, pacing around her, “wasting time I don’t have, and now you’re crying at me like that’s supposed to make me care.” His voice warped with a harsh TV distortion. “Newsflash: it won’t.”
Her knees shook, but she forced herself upright, swallowing hard as she looked up at him again. “…Vox—”
“No!” His sharp tone made her flinch. “You’re pushing my fucking patience. Get out of my office before I throw you out myself!”
The doors behind her suddenly slammed open on their own, and security drones whirred in, circling her with an unmistakable warning, clearly making a point.
Charlie slowly backed toward the exit, wiping away fresh tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said softly. “I really only wanted you to be part of it to help you.”
Vox crossed his arms, glaring somewhere just past her shoulder. “Tell it to someone who gives a shit. Your time’s up. Now get the fuck out of my building!”
The door slammed shut in her face.
From inside, muffled but unmistakable, Vox snapped, “Send someone to wipe the fucking floor. She got tears all over it. Disgusting.”
Charlie stood alone in the hallway now, cheeks burning, legs still trembling, and her heart aching in a way she hadn’t expected. That… had gone worse than she’d imagined.
Not only had this gone badly, it was a damn catastrophe. She took a shaky breath, straightened her shoulders, and made herself walk out of the building with her head hanging low the entire time.
Guess it was time for Plan B. She didn’t know what Plan B was yet, but she was determined to find one.
~❄~
Later that evening, Charlie was curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest. Her shoulders trembled with soft, miserable sniffles, and the usual brightness in her face was dulled by disappointment.
“I really thought he’d say yes,” she muttered into the fabric.
Vaggie, ever the supportive girlfriend, sat beside her, rubbing her arm soothingly.
“I thought he’d say no at first,” Charlie continued, her voice wavering, “but then I’d explain, and maybe he’d—” She broke off with a shaky breath. “He didn’t even let me explain, Vaggie! He just… he shut me down. He wouldn’t even listen! And when I mentioned Alastor, he— he just got more angry!”
Fresh tears welled up, but Vaggie pulled her close, wrapping her in a firm embrace and rubbing her back in the same patient rhythm. “Hey,” she murmured. “You can’t let Vox get to you. He’s a stubborn jerk. Always has been, always will be.”
“He said it was nonsense,” Charlie whispered, staring down at her hands. “Like I was wasting his time. Every time I tried to explain, he just…” She lifted one hand in a small, helpless motion. “I thought if I framed it as a thank-you, he might feel appreciated. I really thought it would work. I didn’t think it would make him hate me.”
Vaggie leaned back just enough to cup Charlie’s cheek, thumb brushing away a tear. “He doesn’t hate you. Vox is just… Vox. His personality is ninety percent ego, anyway.”
“I really wanted him to join,” Charlie whispered miserably. “I wanted to do something nice for him. And I thought… maybe it would help him and Alastor. They just need a little push, I know it! I’m sure they could put their difficulties aside and be friends again.”
Vaggie frowned, her protective instincts flaring at the sight of Charlie’s teary eyes. “His refusal was final?”
Charlie nodded miserably. “Sure sounded like it.”
Vaggie rose from the bed, her expression hardening. “Okay,” she said firmly. “I’ll handle this.”
With a determined expression, she grabbed her angelic spear, already making her way over to the door.
Charlie blinked up at her, startled. “Vaggie, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do,” Vaggie cut in. “He made you cry, so I’m going to give that arrogant prick a piece of my mind.”
“Vaggie!” Charlie scrambled after her. “Don’t fight him! Please don’t—!”
“I’m not going to fight him,” Vaggie said, pausing long enough to kiss Charlie’s forehead. “I’m going to convince him. My way.”
~❄~
V-Tower’s security system flagged Vaggie as a hostile entity the moment she stepped through the front doors, but the poor receptionist barely had time to open their mouth before she was already marching toward Vox’s office.
She didn’t bother knocking; she simply kicked the door open.
Vox barely glanced up from his desk, clearly assuming it was another assistant who had a very unfortunate fate ahead of them. “I said no interruptions—”
“You’ve got some nerve!”
Vaggie marched forward until only Vox’s desk remained as the final barrier between them. Her wings flared wide, casting sharp shadows across the room, and the spear in her hand reflected the light with a menacing gleam.
That got his attention.
Vox looked up, startled for half a second before settling back into his usual smirk. “Wow,” he drawled. “You people really don’t understand what an appointment is.”
“Cut the crap, Vox,” Vaggie snapped, slamming her hand on his desk, making everything rattle. “Do you have any idea how much effort Charlie puts into making scumbags like you feel welcome? She invited you because she thought you’d appreciate it, and you shut her down without even listening!”
“Listen, whatever your name was,” Vox said, rolling his shoulders back, “I don’t owe the little princess any—”
“You,” Vaggie said, jabbing a finger at him, “made Charlie cry.”
For a moment, Vox appeared genuinely surprised. Then he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, please. I declined her little holiday project. I didn’t make her cry.”
“She’s crying because she genuinely wanted you to be part of this,” Vaggie shot back, her eye blazing with fury. “She tried to do something kind for you — for you, Vox — and you threw her out like she was nothing!”
“Coming to me for something like that was her mistake.”
“You don’t get it! She thought it would be a good way to thank you and maybe help you reconnect with a certain someone,” Vaggie accused, her emphasis unmistakable.
Vox’s screen glitched slightly as he caught the hint, but he quickly masked it with indifference. “I’m not interested in reconnecting with anyone. Now, if you’re done throwing your little hissy-fit—”
“I’m not done,” Vaggie snapped. “Charlie goes out of her way for everyone, even jerks like you. And when she’s excited about something, she puts her whole heart into it. She just wants people to be happy — even people like you, who don’t even deserve it!”
Vox leaned back in his chair, tapping a claw against the armrest, his expression unreadable.
Vaggie crossed her arms, her voice lowering as it became clear that yelling wouldn’t get her anywhere. “Look, I don’t care if you think this is beneath you. I don’t care about your reputation, your profits, or how important you think you are,” Vaggie added. “What I do care about is Charlie, and you don’t get to make her cry.”
Vox bristled and stood abruptly. “If I recall correctly, your precious girlfriend tried to rope me into a sentimental waste of—”
Vaggie slammed the butt of her spear onto the floor. “Come on, do it for her! For some fucking reason, she believes in you. And you don’t even have to do much aside from getting someone a gift, which shouldn’t exactly strain your resources!”
For a long moment, Vox said nothing, his true emotions still hidden behind a carefully placed mask. Then he sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Fine. I’ll do it. But not because of your little guilt trip, and if agreeing keeps you lot from barging into my office unannounced to yell at me, then so be it.”
Vaggie smirked. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Then her expression hardened again, and she crossed her arms. “And you better actually put effort into it.”
“No promises,” Vox muttered as she turned and made her way over to the door.
Vaggie paused with her hand on the handle and glanced back. “Oh, and one more thing. If you make Charlie cry again, I won’t be this friendly.” With that being said, she turned on her heel and left as quickly as she arrived.
Once alone, Vox sank back into his chair, running a hand down his screen. “This shit better be worth it.”
~❄~
Back at the hotel, Vaggie entered their room to find Charlie still curled up in the same spot on their bed. She looked up at the sound of the door, her eyes red and anxious.
“Vaggie! Did you— are you okay?”
Vaggie crossed the room and sat beside her, taking her hands gently. “I’m fine. And I talked to him.”
Charlie stiffened. “You didn’t… hurt him, did you?”
“No,” Vaggie assured. “I just… clarified a few things.”
“And…?” Charlie asked softly.
Vaggie brushed a strand of hair from her face. “He’s joining.”
Charlie’s breath caught, and her eyes widened. “Really?”
Vaggie smiled and kissed her gently. “Yeah. He will. And he’ll take it seriously.”
That might have been a bit of a bluff, but Vaggie at least hoped her message had gotten across.
The light returned to Charlie’s eyes instantly. She threw her arms around her girlfriend, squeezing tight. “You’re the best! Thank you, Vaggie!”
Vaggie held her close, content just to see her smile again.
~❄~
A few days later, Charlie and Vaggie were in Charlie’s office, well past a reasonable hour as they wrapped up preparations for the drawing the next day. Charlie hummed softly while she wrote the last name on a slip of paper, folded it with care, and dropped it into the bowl on her desk.
She looked up to find Vaggie casually leaning against the edge of it, watching her with open amusement.
“So,” she said at last, tilting her head. “How exactly are you planning to make sure Vox and Alastor draw each other without making it obvious you’re cheating?”
Charlie paused, pen hovering midair, before offering a sheepish smile. “It’s not cheating, Vaggie. It’s more like… guiding! Helping fate along!”
“Uh-huh.” Vaggie’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk. “Sounds like cheating to me.”
Charlie sighed, her shoulders drooping as she slumped back in her chair. “Okay, fine. Maybe it’s a little against the rules. But it’s for a good cause, Vaggie! Vox and Alastor need this. They’ve been at each other’s throats forever, and it’s obvious to literally everyone that they don’t actually hate each other. They’re just—” she waved a hand vaguely, “—being stubborn.”
Vaggie raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure this has nothing to do with your hopeless romantic streak?” she asked, grinning.
Charlie flushed immediately, turning her head away. “That’s not the point,” she insisted. “I just think this could help them see each other differently. Gifts have a way of bringing people together, you know? Maybe this can help fix things and get them to be…” She hesitated. “Friends again.”
Vaggie snorted. “Sure. Friends.” At the look Charlie threw her, she relented with a chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. So — what’s the master plan?”
Charlie lit up and reached under the desk, pulling out a second bowl identical to the first. “I prepared an extra bowl just for them, with only their names in it! When it’s their turn, I’ll swap the official bowl for this one.” She tapped the side of the bowl, which held an equal amount of paper slips as the not-manipulated one. “This way, they’re guaranteed to get each other.”
Vaggie leaned in, examining the setup. “Okay, that’s clever. But—” She pointed into the bowl. “If it’s just their names in there, what happens if one of them draws their own name? The odds are pretty high. You’d have to redo it, and if it doesn’t work the second time, that’s going to look really suspicious.”
Charlie froze in the middle of throwing another slip into the official bowl. Slowly, she lowered her hand.
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh no! I didn’t think of that!”
She sank back into her chair, staring at the carefully prepared trap-bowl as if it had personally betrayed her. “What should I do? If they draw themselves, it could blow the whole thing, and that would ruin everything!”
Vaggie squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, calm down, we’ll figure something out. There’s gotta be—”
Before she could keep going, Charlie’s phone buzzed on the desk. Charlie grabbed it, eyes widening when she saw the name.
“Oh! It’s… Vox?” she said, confused.
Vaggie crossed her arms. “Speak of the devil. What does he want now?”
“I hope he’s not calling to tell us he’s changed his mind after all,” Charlie said hesitantly. But there was only one way to find out, and that was to pick up the phone, so she did just that, putting him on speaker so Vaggie could hear too. “Hi, Vox! What’s up?”
Vox’s voice crackled through the speaker, cold and dismissive as ever. “Hey, princess. About your little name drawing thing tomorrow— yeah, change of plans, I won’t be there.”
“What?” Charlie asked hesitantly, sitting up straight.
“Look,” Vox continued, his tone full of irritation, “I’ve got better and more important shit to do than sit around with a bunch of emotionally constipated failures, drawing names and pretending to care about your nonsense.”
“Oh,” Charlie said softly. “Um… okay. If you’re busy, I understand.”
“Just give me whoever’s left. Doesn’t matter to me. Cool?”
Charlie blinked. Then, very slowly, a small smile spread across her face. “Oh… well, okay. If that works best for you,” she replied politely, doing her best to hide the sudden excitement in her voice.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” Vox exhaled sharply. “I’ll be—”
“Thank you so much for letting me know!” Charlie chirped, cutting him off. “Have a good night, Vox!”
She hung up the call before he could reply, setting the phone down with an unmistakably triumphant gleam in her eyes.
Vaggie raised an eyebrow. “You’re way too happy about him blowing this off suddenly. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Charlie clasped her hands together excitedly. “Vaggie, this is perfect! Think about it! This makes everything easier! If Vox isn’t there, I only need to put his name in the other bowl when it’s Alastor’s turn. No chance of him drawing himself. And Vox—”
“—gets whoever we want,” Vaggie finished, her own interest piqued now. “Which just happens to be Alastor.”
“Exactly!” Charlie beamed. “See, sometimes fate even gives you a little help!”
Vaggie moved closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Alright,” she said fondly. “I’m in. I’ll help you with the switch, babe.”
Charlie looked up at her, eyes shining with fresh tears. “Aw, thank you so much, Vaggie! And thank you for not making me feel bad about the manipulation.”
Vaggie gently kissed the top of her head with a soft laugh. “Hey, if bending the rules will give us a Sinsmas where those two aren’t trying to strangle each other, I’ll swap the bowl myself.”
Charlie giggled and picked up the manipulated bowl, carefully removing the slips with Alastor’s name until only Vox’s remained.
~❄~
Charlie had spent most of the afternoon fluttering through the lobby like a possessed hummingbird, moving from one task to another with hardly a moment to breathe. Adjusting and rearranging decorations, setting up a small table draped in red velvet, and placing the two bowls with the little folded slips of paper. The official one was in plain sight on the table, and the manipulated one was placed conveniently underneath it, hidden by the cloth.
By the time everyone finally trickled in, the lobby felt warm and cozy, already buzzing with noise. Angel sprawled across a chair, his legs draped over one armrest as he scrolled through his phone. Niffty darted around the decorations, polishing ornaments that definitely did not need polishing. Sir Pentious and Cherri were engaged in a loud argument about who would end up with the better gift. Alastor lingered off to the side, his hands folded neatly behind his back as he quietly observed the chaos, while Husk occupied his usual spot at the bar.
Charlie nervously hovered near the table, her gaze flicking back to the hidden bowl over and over again, hoping she’d manage to pull it off and make a clean switch at just the right moment.
“Are you really sure about this?” Vaggie asked as she moved closer, keeping her voice low. “Aren’t we supposed to set a good example? I don’t know if rigging things is the right way to go…”
“I know, I know,” Charlie whispered softly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “But it’s for a good cause! Vox and Alastor need this. They just don’t know it yet.”
Vaggie sighed, already knowing she’d lost this battle. “Alright,” she said quietly. “If you think it’s the right thing, I’ve got your back.”
Charlie beamed, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you so much for helping me. It’ll work out, you’ll see!”
Once she was confident everything was in place, Charlie clapped her hands and turned to the group. “Alright, everyone! Thank you for being here for the first annual Hazbin Hotel Secret Santa draw!”
The response was... mixed. Husk grunted into his bottle, Cherri popped her gum loudly, and Alastor tilted his head, looking far too pleased for someone who’d essentially been dragged into this.
“Before we start,” Charlie continued, undeterred, “I should let you know that Vox won’t be joining us today. He said he has some work to take care of—”
Angel’s head snapped up. “Wait, so he ain’t comin’? Like, at all?”
“No, no!” Charlie hurried to clarify. “He’s still in! He just said he’ll take whoever’s left at the end.”
A soft, satisfied hum escaped from Alastor’s throat, his grin sharpening ever so slightly. “How fortunate,” he mused, probably pleased that he won’t have to deal with the TV-Demon today after all. “I was debating whether the premises would require disinfecting afterward. It appears I’ve been granted a reprieve.”
Charlie pretended not to hear that. “Alright! Let’s— oh! Wait, I forgot my list!”
She rushed out of the room before anyone could question her, grabbing Vaggie by the hand and dragging her along.
The group blinked, briefly confused, before returning to their individual distractions.
All except one.
The second Charlie disappeared, Angel slid out of his chair and walked over to the table. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying him any attention, then dipped two fingers into the bowl and gently shuffled through the slips.
“C’mon, c’mon…” he muttered, until he found exactly what he was looking for.
“Perfect.” He smirked, tucking the slip with his own name into his chest floof. “Just gotta sneak it back later, make sure I’m last, and ol’ Daddy V’s all mine.”
Suddenly, a shadow loomed over him, stretching across the table. Angel tensed up.
Slowly, he turned around, only to come face to face with Alastor, who stood directly behind him, hands still folded neatly behind his back. His shadow stretched across the floor like a living creature, curling a bit too close to Angel’s feet, making him uncomfortable.
“Now, now,” Alastor said pleasantly, though his voice carried a warning edge beneath the cheer. “That hardly seems in the spirit of the occasion, does it?”
Angel jolted back with a yelp. “Fuckin’—! Warn a guy before you sneak up like that! You doin’ that on purpose?”
Alastor’s smile subtly widened. “I do many things on purpose.”
Angel exhaled and straightened, instinctively angling his body away from the looming threat. “Relax, I was just takin’ a peek.”
“Mmm.” Alastor tilted his head. “Your definition of peeking appears to involve theft.”
Angel scoffed. “Oh, c’mon. Since when do you care?” He jabbed a thumb toward the bowl. “You barely wanted ta’ be here. Thought this whole thing was beneath you.”
“Indeed,” Alastor agreed easily. “And yet I’m afraid I must insist that you return what you took.”
Angel blinked. “You’re kiddin’, right?”
“I assure you,” Alastor replied softly, his voice dropping just enough to be unsettling. “I am not.”
Angel frowned, suspicion creeping in. “Okay, that’s weird. You don’t give a shit about Secret Santa. So why’re you suddenly playin’ the honesty police?”
Alastor’s grin sharpened, something dangerous glinting behind it. “Perhaps,” he said lightly, “I simply find cheating… distasteful.”
Angel opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Charlie interrupted him.
“Angel!”
She hurried back inside the room, shoes clacking on the floor, and stopped short when she saw the scene. “What’s going on?”
Alastor straightened and turned toward her. “Ah, Princess,” he greeted. “I thought you would want to know that Angel here was attempting to… alter the results.”
Charlie’s eyes shot to Angel. “What?!”
Angel threw his hands up. “Oh, come on—!”
“Angel,” Charlie said, holding out her hand. “Give it here.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Angel reached into his chest floof and handed over the slip. Charlie unfolded it, stared at his neatly written name, and groaned.
“Angel, you can’t rig the drawing. That completely ruins the spirit of a Secret Santa!”
“Whoa, whoa.” Angel raised all four hands defensively. “Look, toots, you said Vox gets whoeva’s left, right? I was just tryin’ ta’ make sure it ain’t Sir Hiss over there. No offense, snake.”
“I take great offense!” Pentious snapped.
Charlie pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t cheat. This is supposed to be fun and fair for everyone.”
Angel crossed his arms, pouting. “Oh, come on. Vox is loaded. If he gets me, I might actually score somethin’ decent this year. Can ya blame a guy for thinkin’ ahead?”
Charlie raised a finger, ready to launch into a lecture, but then she hesitated. Her eyes flicked to the hidden bowl beneath the table. The one she’d rigged herself. Guilt twisted in her chest, sharp and uncomfortable, and her throat tightened.
The lecture died on her tongue.
She swallowed, forcing the unease down, and her anger drained away along with it. “Stop being selfish,” she said instead, her voice steadier than she felt. “This isn’t about the gifts. It’s about the thought that counts.”
Angel threw his hands up dramatically. “Fine, fine! I’ll play along.” He rolled his eyes as he stalked off. “But if I end up with somethin’ lame, I’m blamin’ you.”
Charlie exhaled sharply, rubbing at her temples. Vaggie, who had just returned, approached carefully as a pouting Angel passed her by.
“Everything okay over here?” she asked, her tone light, though her expression conveyed she already knew the answer.
Charlie groaned. “Angel tried to rig the draw so that Vox would get him.”
Vaggie raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “Now you feel guilty because you’re doing the same thing.”
“It’s different,” Charlie protested immediately, shooting her a pleading look. “It’s for a good cause!”
Vaggie chuckled and gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “It sure is, babe. If you think this is the right thing to do, then it’s the right thing to do.”
Charlie sighed, glancing back at the bowl. “It’ll be fine,” she said, more to herself than to Vaggie. “Everything’s going to go according to plan.”
With that being said, she turned back toward the gathered residents. She threw a quick, nervous glance at Vaggie, who responded with a subtle thumbs-up and a reassuring nod.
“Alright!” Charlie said, forcing her smile to stay steady. “Let’s get started. Remember: draw one name, don’t peek inside the bowl, and no trading.”
She went first, reaching into the bowl and pulling out a slip. She unfolded it carefully, her smile brightening. “Got mine!” She tucked the paper neatly into her pocket before passing the bowl to Vaggie.
Vaggie accepted it, briefly stirring the slips before drawing one out. Her brow lifted slightly as she read the name, but she didn’t comment, slipping it into her pocket instead before handing the bowl to Husk. “Your turn, pussy-cat.”
Husk grunted as he took it, setting his glass down just long enough to fish out a piece of paper. He squinted at it, snorted once, and shoved it into his pocket. “Figures.”
He passed the bowl to Angel.
Angel leaned forward eagerly, a lot more excited about this than his feline friend was. “Alright, baby, let’s see who I’m buyin’ for.” He plunged his hand in and drew a slip, unfolding it immediately.
He blinked, then squinted, and his grin faltered as he reread the name. “…You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”
“What’s the problem?” Charlie asked nervously.
Angel held the paper up between two fingers. “I drew myself!”
Niffty giggled from her seat. “Oh! That means you get to give all your love to yourself!”
Husk barked out a laugh. “Congrats, kid. Now that’s gonna be real romantic.”
Angel groaned. “Oh, fuck off!” He crumpled the slip in his hand, then froze when Charlie shot him a warning look. With an exaggerated sigh, he carefully smoothed it out and dropped it back into the bowl. “Yeah, yeah. Relax, toots. I’ll just draw again.”
He reached in once more, theatrically shaking the bowl as if daring fate to mess with him twice.
This time, he smiled. “Ohhh, this one’s interestin’,” he purred, folding the paper and slipping it away before passing the bowl along to their tiniest resident.
Niffty nearly bounced out of her seat, scampering forward and clutching the bowl with both hands. She hummed happily as she reached in and pulled out a slip. Her eye sparkled as she read it. “Oh! This is gonna be fun,” she chirped before slipping the paper into her apron.
Then it was Alastor’s turn.
Charlie’s heart raced, and for a moment, she nearly forgot how to breathe. As he moved toward the table, she subtly adjusted her stance, fingers gripping the edge of the velvet cloth.
As his hand reached toward the bowl, Charlie pretended to trip, slamming her hand against the table and knocking over the bowl. The slips scattered across the floor in a soft, papery spill, fluttering outward like startled birds.
“Oh no!” she gasped, her voice overly dramatic. “I am soooo sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
Vaggie shot her a knowing look before immediately kneeling to gather the slips. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” she said, picking up the papers just as they’d discussed last night.
Charlie dropped down as well, pretending to help. In one smooth motion, she slipped the prepared bowl out from under the table and lifted it as she turned, positioning herself to block Vaggie from view.
“Thanks, honey,” Charlie said as she held up the manipulated bowl for Alastor, pretending it was the one Vaggie had just handed her.
She prayed that her heartbeat wasn’t as loud as it felt.
Alastor regarded the bowl for a moment, one eyebrow raising slightly with mild suspicion. “How clumsy of you, my dear,” he said smoothly as he dipped his fingers in. “Though I suppose accidents do happen.”
Charlie laughed a little too nervously.
Alastor drew his slip and unfolded it. The static in the air seemed to spike, his grin sharpening as he read the name. “…How delightful,” he murmured.
Charlie’s pulse thundered in her ears. “You got someone good?” she asked, doing her best to sound casual.
“Oh, very,” Alastor replied, folding the slip and tucking it neatly into his coat pocket. He straightened, eyes gleaming with unmistakable amusement. “I do so adore the element of surprise.”
Charlie barely resisted the urge to sag in relief.
As Alastor stepped away, Vaggie discreetly slipped the scattered papers back into the original bowl and handed it to Charlie. With another smooth motion, Charlie returned the correct bowl to the table. Only after the false one was safely hidden from view did her hands finally stop shaking.
“Okay!” she said, a little breathless now. “Let’s finish up with you two!”
Sir Pentious slithered forward, blissfully unaware that anything unusual had just happened. Cherri followed shortly after, plucking the last slip from the bowl.
Once everyone had drawn, Charlie clapped her hands together. “That’s it! Everyone has their assigned giftee!” she announced. “Now remember, the gifts will be exchanged at the Sinsmas party, so you’ve got plenty of time to pick out something nice.”
“Uh… what about Vox?” Cherri asked, pointing at the now-empty bowl. “Wasn’t he supposed to get the last one?”
Charlie paled, immediately realizing the flaw in her plan. “Well, yes, but… uh…”
“We already drew his name and set it aside,” Vaggie said smoothly, draping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders as if the whole thing had been planned that way from the beginning.
Cherri raised her eyebrow, then shrugged. “Weird, but whatever.” Luckily, she didn’t seem interested in digging any deeper.
Charlie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and exchanged a relieved glance with Vaggie. That made phase one of their plan complete!
As the others slowly filtered out of the lobby, drifting back to their own rooms, Alastor lingered behind. His red eyes remained fixed on Charlie, sharp and thoughtful. A chill ran down her spine, but she forced her smile to stay in place.
“Something wrong, Alastor?” she asked.
Alastor chuckled softly. “Oh, not at all, my dear. I simply find myself eagerly anticipating the reveal.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Charlie standing there, suddenly very aware of how quiet the lobby felt.
Vaggie joined her, arms crossed. “You pulled it off,” she murmured. “But he’s definitely suspicious.”
Charlie gave a nervous laugh. “It’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Vaggie raised an eyebrow. “You really want me to answer that?”
Charlie shook her head quickly. “Nope! Let’s just focus on the party preparations, yeah? I’ll just go and call Vox real quick, to tell him the good news!”
She retreated to her office and shut the door behind her, dialing Vox’s number as she started pacing the small room. Despite everything, there was still a chance the Media Overlord would refuse outright once he heard who’d been chosen for him.
The phone rang multiple times before Vox finally answered.
~❄~