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Fandom: Hazbin Hotel.
Pairing: Alastor x female Reader.
Rating: -
Summary: you thought it was a normal morning at the Hazbin Hotel, until Lucifer and Alastor started fighting… over your attention. :3 Lucifer notices the affectionate nickname Alastor has given you, and the Radio Demon feels increasingly uncomfortable. Unable to hide his emotions any longer, he drags you to his room and… tries to find out what’s going on between you and the king of hell. But Alastor’s questions aren’t really about Lucifer...
🔞 Warnings: jealous!Alastor, possessive!Alastor, protective!Lucifer,
angst, idiots in love (especially Alastor).
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It was a morning like any other. And like every ordinary morning, you were sprawled across the wide curved couch in the Hazbin Hotel lounge. In your hands was a mug of chocolate milk (because yes, despite being an adult woman, you still had that adorable childish side to you).
You sat between Angel and Charlie, listening to them talk about their newest redemption plans.
Charlie was so enthusiastic and radiant that watching Husk and Angel roll their eyes became slightly irritating—but you didn’t complain. After all, you were friends with all of them, and you had grown attached to each one in your own way.
It was Lucifer, who had just entered the room with his usual bright demeanor and that charismatic “I’m the king” smile. At the same time, Angel stood up, muttering a simple “work call…” while scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
Lucifer casually sat beside you, in place of Angel.
“Interesting, isn’t it? My little girl really believes in all this!” He rambled, his eyes shining like twin suns. He always carried this… divine, celestial aura around him. Even when he wasn’t in the best mood, he somehow radiated serenity.
Slowly, the others left the room to carry out their assigned tasks. You hadn’t been given one yet—you were still new, after all.
“My, my… is he bothering you?” Asked a hissing, radio-like voice.
“Hey! I’m not bothering anyone! We were having a conversation, right, Y/N?”
Lucifer remembered your name.
Strange… considering he never remembered anyone else’s.
Not even the name of his daughter’s girlfriend, who was part of the family now.
A flash of annoyance crossed the crimson eyes of the figure beside you: Alastor.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“My apologies, Bellhop… though I don’t recall the young lady asking for your assistance. Tell me, sunshine, am I truly as awful as Bambi believes?” Lucifer teased with a wink, flashing his forked tongue at Alastor, who now looked completely irritated. His fingers tightened around the cane in his hands, crackling faintly with static and distorted sounds.
“To be honest… no. You’re very reassuring, pleasant to be around, and there’s a lot one can learn from you,” you answered sincerely, looking at Lucifer without sparing Alastor your beautiful, intriguing gaze.
“Hear that, Bambi?” Lucifer grinned shamelessly. “She likes me!”
“Excuse me?! She said you’re pleasant, not that she likes you. There’s quite a difference!” Alastor spat through clenched teeth, gripping his cane hard enough to crack it.
Charlie returned to the room at the sound of the commotion.
“Um, guys… what’s going on here?”
“Nothing, dear. Just a minor disagreement between me and… this peculiar obscenity pretending to be majestic!” Alastor laughed at his own joke.
Charlie nervously scratched at her elbow while you glanced between the two men, sensing the tension thickening by the second.
It was obvious: they hated each other for some reason and couldn’t stand being near one another.
“Well, guys… I’ll leave you to your little quarrel,” you said, standing from the couch.
Simultaneously, both Alastor and Lucifer grabbed one of your wrists each and shouted:
The two exchanged a glare, metaphorical lightning striking between them, and you sighed at their immature behavior.
“My doe… I need to speak with you about… something rather urgent,” Alastor said.
Lucifer’s eyes widened. Alastor shot him a sharp look.
“What did you just call her?! Doe??? She’s not! Ahahaha! Are you getting sentimental?”
Alastor tilted his head toward the floor. For a brief moment, he looked almost panicked—as if he had accidentally revealed too much, and of all people, the dumbest person in the room had noticed. Then he exhaled and composed himself, loosening his grip on his cane.
“Would that mean that, by calling me Bambi, you’re interested in me?” Alastor sneered, hating every word that left his mouth, especially knowing Lucifer’s jealousy toward the two of you despite your lack of intimacy.
“No! What the hell are you talking about?! I hate you with every fiber of my being!” Lucifer shouted, growing agitated as horns rose from his head and wings burst open, the force knocking objects to the floor.
“Dad, calm down,” Charlie intervened quickly.
Lucifer released your wrist immediately, realizing he might hurt you. Then, he apologized softly before storming away, ashamed of his impulsive reactions.
Alastor, however, still held your hand in his palm. He stood and quietly asked you to follow him to his room.
He opened the door for you and entered shortly after.
His room felt strange today. The entire space reflected his mood: black and grim. Candle flames flickered violently. The red walls looked as though ash—or peeling wallpaper—was drifting from them. Even the bayou felt wrong. The grass was ruined. The water thick and swampy green. The flowers wilted.
Maybe Alastor wasn’t feeling well? But before you could ask, his question came fast and merciless.
“Do you feel something for him?” He asked, pinning you against the wall with one arm.
Ash continued to fall around you like snow, heavier and heavier.
What? Feel something? For him? For who exactly?
“For… feel something for who?”
“For him…” he growled again. “Lucifer…” he spat, looking away in disgust.
“Why are you asking me that?” You replied, genuinely confused. You truly didn’t understand what he had to worry about.
“I asked first, and you haven’t answered. Please answer me. Yes or no. It’s not difficult.” He stepped closer, his warm breath brushing your face.
“No. No, I don’t feel anything for Lucifer,” you answered clearly, struggling slightly under the intensity of his burning gaze.
“Are you... sure?” He breathed, abruptly stepping back and turning his back to you.
“Is there any possibility that... you could like him in the future?” He asked over his shoulder.
“I don’t know, Alastor. Why all these questions? You’re scaring me. Are you feeling alright?” You asked, moving toward him and raising a hand, wanting to check if he had a fever. His behavior confused you deeply.
Alastor suddenly turned, catching your hand in his and pressing it against his cheek.
He was so warm. So close. So… intense.
“Any possibility that…” he stopped himself, his gaze softening as it met yours.
“That…?” you pressed impatiently.
“Nothing. Forget it,” he muttered, dropping your hand and looking away.
Without another word, he ushered you out using his tendrils.
Even his shadow didn’t seem to know how to help its master. It waved sadly at you as you left.
Maybe he wanted to ask for help—but couldn’t. He was Alastor, after all, and asking for help was something he’d never do, not even on his deathbed.
You stepped out into the hallway in silence and confused.
Only to run directly into Lucifer.
“Oh! Hi there, little doe! You were with Alastor?! So it’s true, huh?” He teased, wiggling his brows.
The door behind you suddenly burst open, and long, slick black tendrils wrapped around your body, yanking you violently back inside Alastor’s room. His voice echoed through the entire hotel.
A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead.
The tendrils tightened around your waist, covering your mouth, pressing against your throat.
Lucifer pounded on the door insistently.
“What are you doing, Alastor?! Let her go! If you hurt her, I’ll kill you! And I’ll ask Charlie to void whatever deal you two have running this hotel!”
But Alastor didn’t answer.
As you struggled, Alastor—his body shrouded completely in black smoke, with only the glowing slits of his eyes visible in the darkness—stood at the foot of the bed watching you.
“My doe…” he sighed, voice strained. “I’m sorry. It’s not my intention, but I’m forced to. I can’t allow others to believe I have a weakness,” he confessed, slowly approaching you while the tendrils left you no escape.
Author’s Note: yes, I'm still alive! Thank you for taking the time to read this story! ♡ Should I continue this story with a PART 2? Love triangle? Or sadistic Alastor? Decision, decision…