Alastor Angst - Tumblr Posts

AHHHH THIS IS SO WELL WRITTEN!!!! I need a reconciliation part badly. Thanks for the tag

yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, spoilers for episodes 7 and 8 in the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial, physical abuse, implication of friends to enemies.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fic! I know I had said that I was going to be on a break until the 8th or 14th in my last post, but I had gotten a burst of inspiration after watching the season finale and wrote this after discussing the idea with @riddle-simp and collaborated with @witch-of-the-writing-desk. It's because of these two that I managed to write 2k in a single day, so please give a big round of applause to these amazing individuals.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

Alastor could not believe what had happened on the rooftop. No, he refused to believe that he was nearly killed by a hair. To almost die for his friends, a fucking altruist of all things.  Sorry to disappoint, but this is not how his story will end here. He thought viciously, tugging at his hair as memories rushed through his mind. He needed more. He needed his freedom. Yet this deal is restricting his powers from reaching their fullest potential, and it almost killed him. Yes, there has to be another way to get out of it. But more importantly….he needed to stop these feelings bubbling inside of him. These feelings he felt towards you. 

You, a simple groundskeeper who had forgotten what it meant to be a human and served as a weapon in war. You, who did not use technology like him yet still found a way to connect with the rest of the hotel’s wayward souls.

He hates it and he wants you gone, out of sight and out of mind, because these feelings have put him in more danger than necessary. When he finds the backdoor of his deal, how to unclip his wings, he will be the one pulling all of the strings and claim the power that he rightfully deserves. He is the Radio Demon, the Great Alastor! Nothing else matters to him!

He made his decision right in the dilapidated radio station to never get attached to you or anyone else again. To only focus on himself and no one else. He is in Hell for a reason, after all. He cackled, feeling the thrum of his power rising in unison with his conviction. Yes. He thought. Yes, he’s Alastor! The cold, ruthless overlord who always has room for more voices on his broadcast. Not some soft-hearted twit who would die for someone! 

But what he did not realize at the time, just right underneath the hatch, you had heard everything. 

Despite your injuries and losing both of your arms to angelic steel, you had used your strength to trek through the debris and look for him. Now knowing that he despised you, knowing that he sees you as nothing more than a weapon to use for his convenience….well, you could not blame him. You were a weapon when you were alive. You were feared, you were hated, and you did not care at the time. So why did it hurt so much when he said that? You did not know, except it was better to keep your distance from him. 

So you left the Radio Demon alone, staggering away to join the others. 

Vaggie was somehow able to find Sir Pentious’ blueprints for your prosthetics in a fireproof trunk beneath the rubble, and put in a call to Carmilla Carmine to see if she could make them with angelic steel instead of adamantine. Of course, the angelic arms dealer took a look at them first before agreeing to it, but not before telling Vaggie she must ask for your consent to do the procedure and what you wanted to add or remove. You gave your input, and the procedure was scheduled for the following week. Although you could not help with the construction of the hotel, you did assist Charlie by putting together an eulogy and memorial service for Sir Pentious. The princess was not sure when it would be held, hopefully when the hotel was finished. 

You understood, softly promising to be by her side for support, even if you had to be pushed in a wheelchair. Sir Pentious had been a good person, an inventor and a gentleman who was nothing but kind and respectful to you. Even though you offered to pay him for doing repairs on your arms in the past, he brushed it off and instead asked you to join him for tea. He…you hoped he found peace. 

On the day of your procedure, you asked the overlord a question that had been plaguing your mind since the war. “Madam Carmilla, I am a weapon. I was raised to be one, to be used and tossed aside when my usefulness had expired. So…why is it that I am bothered by what Alastor said…on that day?” You did not dare to elaborate on what he exactly said to her, just that he said that he did not want to see you anymore. Be gone from his sight and mind. 

She stared at you for a long moment before she replied coolly, “So I have heard from Vaggie. But I do not share her thoughts. A weapon is lifeless. You are a person. An emotionally stunted one, but someone is living, breathing, and who can still be hurt by what others say about them even if they can’t see it. You are upset because of what Alastor said….and in my humble opinion, whatever you feel towards him, discard it. There is nothing to gain by being close to him.” She then turned away, pulling on a pair of gloves over her hands as one of her daughters placed a mask over her face. “Are you ready to begin? This is your last chance, and I cannot promise it won’t hurt.”

“I am.” You said. “Thank you for answering my question.” 

Carmilla nodded, and proceeded to give out instructions to you and the rest of the staff in the operating room. You complied, not wanting any more time to be wasted on your behalf. At least now you knew why you were upset.  It was because you cared about Alastor. Cared….yes, that is the appropriate word. You had to distance yourself from him. It is what he wanted, so you must respect his decision as the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. 

Yes, it is better this way.

That was the last thought that crossed your mind before a mask was placed over your face, and everything fell into darkness. 

Alastor did not understand. You were doing what he wanted you to do. He did not want to see or talk to you unless it was necessary. So why was it making him angry? When he congratulated you on a successful recovery from your procedure, complimented your progress in physical therapy per Carmilla’s instructions, or how lovely the eulogy you wrote for Sir Pentious' memorial service, you showed no reaction. You simply stared at him with a hollow expression before thanking him, excusing yourself with a bow of your head. 

He should be elated. No, he is pleased. He is satisfied that his relationship with you has not gone by being professional. Why, you even pull away as soon as he lays a finger on you~! So why does it bother him that you recoil from his touch? No. He…cannot accept it. He cannot accept this.  He needed to speak to you. Discreetly. 

However, now that this new and improved Hazbin Hotel stood in place of the old one, everything is much bigger with the additional square footage; meaning there would be more ground to cover if Alastor is to ever find you, even if you do not wish to see him.

 Niffty, bless her little deranged mind, pointed him in the direction of the greenhouse. Of course, it was much bigger than the old one. But he still saw the old stained glass windows of the Moriningstar family crest lined up on the south side, allowing red light to come through and shine down on seedling trays with new shoots poking out of the inky soil. The clean, fragrant scent of herbs permeated the air as he walked through the rows of berries, juicy melons, and other culinary delights. He did not think this place would already be thriving when you were the only one who tended to it, as the hotel’s groundskeeper. However…this is you. You, who is able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it. 

He found you hiding just beyond the apple trees, kneeling beside a bush of glistening roses, armed with pruning shears and an apron over your clothes. A watering can sat on the grass by your side. Your back was facing him…which allowed him the element of surprise. Grinning, he leaned forward, stretching his gloved fingers to lightly caress the petals of the rose you were about to snip off. 

“Oh, my apologies dear. My hand slipped!”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, emotionless [Eye Color] irises holding a steady gaze before turning away. “It’s all right. There are others that I can place at Sir Pentious’ memorial site.” You said, raising the shears to carefully cut another rose with a small snip. “Thank you for your concern.” 

The static around him buzzed, swelling in synchronization with his boiling anger towards you. “I see.” He hissed. “I am terribly sorry to disturb you.”

“It is all right.” Snip. “If there is nothing else, please allow me to finish this so that I can go on break. Niffty will not be happy if I am in the break room within ten minutes.” 

“I’m afraid we must discuss something, [First Name].” He pressed on, irritated at your uncharacteristic rudeness. “That is why I am here. So please turn around and look at me.”

You did. You placed the shears down, twisted your body around so that you looked at him straight in the eye. “Yes?” You said. “What do you need?”

He smiled, the static around him coming to a screeching halt and he was much calmer. Finally, He thought. You were looking at him, instead of avoiding his gaze. “I understand that since you have been cleared to return to work, you’ve been quite busy~! However! What I do not understand is why you have been ignoring me.” He leaned forward, feeling his eyes transform into radio dials. “You do not greet me as much as you have before, we haven’t tea together, nor have we taken a stroll in Cannibal Colony~! So…why are you acting like I am a complete stranger to you?”

“Because I know the truth.”

Any and every thought he could have possibly said to her at this moment evaporated upon hearing your answer. “Pardon? I’m sorry but I didn’t catch that.” His voice leaked through the rising static. He felt his antlers grow, expanding past his ears with cr-crik, crick noises. Like the roots of a tree. 

“I know the truth. “I know that you are angry over what happened in the war, how everyone saw you flee from your battle against Adam. I know you wish to unclip your wings and that you utterly despise me. So I am doing what you wish for. To maintain a professional relationship as the groundskeeper and the manager of the Hazbin Hotel. Our goal is to redeem sinners. There’s nothing beyond business between us.” You said with this horrifying truth with a calm and expressionless composure. “I went there that day, to the radio station. I had gone there to look for you, to make sure you were all right when I heard your words. But know this,” A sudden sheen of ice glazed over your eyes. “If you bring harm to Charlie or anyone in this hotel, I will kill you where you stand.” 

The last thread of patience in his psyche split in half. Before he could stop himself, Alastor pinned against the ground, his hands on your shoulders and glaring at you, trying to intimate you with his true form, to scare you into silence as he had done with Husk…but you held your gaze. 

“It’s terrible manners to eavesdrop on someone, my dear.”

“And it isn’t wise to attack someone when you are not even at your full strength.” 

In a flash you immediately flipped him over, straddling his hips as you held down his wrists over his head with one hand. The other held a garden spade to his throat and he was burning. That was when he realized you weren’t wearing your gloves, thus the angelic steel is the reason why his skin is on fire. 

“Calm yourself, Alastor.” You said. “There is no reason to be angry when I am doing what you want me to do. Nor to act as you are doing right now. I advise you to take slow, deep breaths and count to five backwards.” 

“Release me.”

“Not until you have calmed down.” The way you replied so calmly, so…lifelessly, made Alastor angry. Angrier than he has felt in a long, long time. Not since his prey had escaped the forest and he did not get to eat them. Not since his mother died, leaving him alone in the world except for a drunken asshole who wasn’t worthy of being his father. Make these feelings stop NOW

“Come to my office in exactly twenty minutes for an evaluation about your conduct at work. Do not be late.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he sunk into the grass as an inky shadow, slithering back towards the greenhouse’s entrance towards his room. He couldn’t believe it. How could you have known everything? How could he not have sensed your presence? Was he that weak? No. No, he assumed he was alone and clearly he had not been. You were an anomaly. You were raised as a weapon; to spy, to kill, to search and destroy upon the command of your master. 

So why does it still bother him? Why does his head feel like it is about to split in half as he goes over the conversation over and over in his mind? Why is his heart falling into the pit of his stomach at remembering your promise to kill him if he harmed anyone here in the hotel? Why does he have this urge to know how you truly feel towards him? Do you still care for him? Do you love him?

In ten minutes, he  needed to know the truth…or else he would go insane.

What Alastor did not realize though, as he holed up himself in his quarters until the allotted time to meet with you, Husk had seen the whole thing from the door. 

He was going to drag you to lunch because Niffty had gotten pissed that you were skipping meals again…and thank fuck Alastor did not see him. Husk, the drunken gambler and former overlord, almost flew over to you with a worried look, grumbling under his breath. Once he saw that you were all right and did not have visible bruises or injuries courtesy of a certain someone, he grabbed you by the hand, leading out of the greenhouse. He was not going to let Alastor hurt you again.

He might be a dumbass, can’t fight worth shit…but you are important to him, and he’ll protect you even if it means putting himself in the line of fire again. 

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Of Course It's You. It's Always You. - Alastor x Reader

Pairing: Alastor x Y/N

Word Count: 1103

Warnings: Slight Injuries, but nothing major :)

It happened again. Alastor had gone a bit too far when fighting off the many fiends that tried to ransack the hotel. This time it was some loan sharks that had come to hunt down who you had thought was the hotel’s newest resident, Mimzy. Sometimes you wondered why Alastor, a man known for only ever paying mind to his own flights of fancies and rarely ever entertaining anybody else lest it was to gain something for himself, was so passionate about this redemption project of Charlie’s. There wasn’t much time to ponder this, though, as Alastor had burst into your room bruised, exasperated, and covered in blood (was it his? you’d never know). You had never seen him this… defeated. He still wore his trademark smile, but something seemed off. It was his eyes. 

Ever since you became a resident at this hotel, you had grown close to Alastor. He was just so… enthralling. Interesting. You hadn’t asked why he smiles so much, but instead learned how to read his eyes. And right now, his eyes needed help. You urged him to come to your floor and he sat down, gasping as you immediately pulled out your medical kit and applied alcohol to his bite wounds. Man, they weren’t joking when they said those loan sharks had the sharpest teeth out there. For the first time ever, you were thankful that Charlie kept a stocked cabinet of essentials in every room, but more than that, you were surprised that anything could even get close enough to Alastor to hurt him like this. As you bandaged his wounds and filled them with gauze to prevent further bleeding, you slowly unbuttoned his ripped shirt only to be met with equally ripped skin beneath it.

“Oh, Satan”

you say while quickly using the few remaining gauzes you had. He hadn’t said a word this entire time, only wincing when you pressed the bandages against his wounds. Without even saying a word, this was the most vulnerable you had ever seen the Radio Demon. 

As both of your adrenalines died down, you faced him on the floor and asked him what happened.

“I’ve simply never seen anything like it before.” he said.

“They- They had silver teeth- made of Carmine angelic metal.”

While this seems rather insignificant, angelic weapons are the only thing that can kill Earth-born sinners. These scratches were not just inconvenient for the all-powerful Radio Demon, but lethal.

“Alastor… you need to be more careful. We could have lost you. Charlie IS the princess of Hell, you don't have to fight all of her battles for her.” you say.

Alastor’s voice rises.

“Y/N. You don't understand. I- I have to protect this hotel. This is larger than you could ever understand.”

For a second, you swear you could hear his radio voice falter slightly. You sigh in defeat. He could be so stubborn sometimes. As you lean your head against the leg of your bed, you repeat under your breath,

“I could have lost you.”

You put your face into your hands. 

You had been attracted to Alastor ever since you started to get to know him. It was impossible not to. He was such a gentleman… such a thing could not be found just anywhere in Hell. And this man, this diamond among the rough, was almost torn away from you and your chosen family by some lousy loan sharks.

“What was that, Darling?” He broke the silence.

You lift your head off of your hands, slightly embarrassed that he heard you.

“Uh, nothing.”

You felt his hand on your arm, and slightly flinched. Alastor didn't seem like one who was very keen on physical touch, especially initiating it. You glanced into his eyes.

“Darling, don't dismiss yourself. When I ask you a question, answer it.”

You blushed slightly, looking at the distant wall to avoid eye contact.

“I said that I almost lost you. I just dont think I would be able to bear your absence. You- you have helped me see that there can be things worth fighting for, even in eternal damnation.”

Did you just - did you just say that shit out loud?!? Oh, that was corny as fuck, theres no way he’s staying in this room with you after that. Instead of appealing to your inner monologue and leaving, his hand met your face, possibly the gentlest touch you've ever felt.

“Darling, I’ve never once thought that a belle like you could ever think those things about a demon like me. I am truly honored to be a thought in your mind, and even so, a positive one. Why haven't you told me this sooner?”

Did you hear that right? Alastor, THE Radio Demon, just heard you confess your feelings for him… and he didn’t end your life right then and there? You stammered,

“I, um… uh,”

Alastor took your hand into his own, rubbing it with his thumb reassuring me.

“I can sense your anxiety, love. I assure you, you of all people do not have to fear me.” he calmly says.

“Only in my worst nightmares would I ever do anything to cause you harm. Despite my constant efforts to distance myself from you all in efforts to best serve this hotel, you have never faltered in your adamant spirit to just… know me. I know that it is not an effort to manipulate me, as you have not once asked me for anything in return for your constant care.”

As he finishes, you say, “How could I? You have done so much for us, for me, the least I can do is offer you somebody to confide in. Somebody that you can love without ever wondering if this love is reciprocated.”

The two of you sat in silence, staring at the red, wallpaper-plastered wall in front of you, his hand remaining on yours. You didn’t know if what you had said about love was a bit too far, but glancing over at Alastor gave you your answer. His regularly toothy grin was replaced by a small smile, a genuine smile. He moves himself closer to you to remove the distance between your two bodies and slowly guides your head to rest on his shoulder. This gentleness was refreshing. Just two souls that know the same struggle relinquishing in each other’s presence.

“Alastor?” you ask.

“Yes, my Darling?”

“That thing I said, about love… was that too much?”

He chuckled in reply as he leaned his head on yours. “Of course not, my love. Why do you think I came to you of all people?”