Alastor has never cared much for the residents of the hotel, but with you, he couldn't help but grow curious. You were so attentive to everyone's health so would you care about him as much? He knows you're scared of him just like everyone else, but maybe your generosity outweighs your logic? Oh, that would be so delightful. You had a bleeding heart so aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly
TW: Alastor gets a cut on purpose for your attention, any Hazbin Hotel warnings
My first short fanfic about Alastor!! I love him so much omg :3 i intend to make a part 2 where Alastor returns the favor. I hope you enjoy this and as always, any feedback would be super appreciated!!! Remember to hydrate and remember that you are loved!!!! <333
Imagine you were a nurse while you were alive, and for whatever reason you ended up in Hell. Despite your sins, you still wanted to help others. It's that desire to heal others that led you to the Hazbin Hotel. You had been staying there for a few weeks now, getting used to the new dynamics of everything.
Alastor definitely took notice of you; you weren't quite an employee, yet you somehow became the resident nurse. You fretted over everyone: constantly providing hangover cures for Husk, painkillers for Angel Dust after a filming session, band aids for Niffty, and other medical attention as needed for everyone.
Although you were initially shy around Lucifer, you eventually got comfortable enough to take care of him too. You ensured he got food in his system and some fresh air, even after he locked himself in his room all day.
Much to Alastor's amusement, you wormed yourself into everybody's heart besides his. He noticed how formal and stiff you were around him, growing meek in his presence. You were intimidated by him. It didn't stop you from being polite and sweet though, you just tried your best to slip out of the room whenever he appeared. He was trouble, and you knew that.
Imagine one day though, you're both in the kitchen. He was cooking something for the hotel, a luxury he blessed the hotel with often. You were restocking some ice packs (because a certain spider demon wouldn't return them to their place after each use!). You kept your distance, quiet as a mouse as you placed the melted packs into the freezer.
Alastor observed you, the way you nervously worked. Your hands would fumble in their rush to be done. He had to give you credit though, you looked composed compared to most other demons.
He continued to chop some vegetables. He was skilled with a knife, moving with lethal efficiency. It was something you noted with apprehension. Still, you focused on your task, not wanting to interact with the terrifying Radio Demon.
Unfortunately for you, he found you amusing. You were bold enough to demand the king of Hell himself eat three square meals a day, yet you were a shivering mouse under his gaze. He briefly wondered though, despite your fear, does your kindness extend to him?
He decided on an experiment. He was no coward to pain; he had been cut by a blade many times in his life. To become both a skilled chef and killer took trial and error with knives. That was why when he sliced his hand, he didn't even flinch. It was a meager gash on the back of his hand. He let the knife clatter against the counter loud enough to draw your attention.
“Hmmm,” he let out a disapproving hum at the injury, not so subtly forcing you to see his wound. A performance of sorts.
“You're injured!” you noted with surprise. Your first reflex was to step closer to him, the ice packs now forgotten. Then you looked at his face staring intently at yours. Oh, this was Alastor. Did you really want to risk angering him by fretting over him? But then again, he was hurt, and you were never one to turn a blind eye to someone in pain.
Alastor's grin widened when he watched your eyes bouncing back and forth between his hand and his face. He could almost hear the gears in your head turning, trying to figure out if your fear would overcome your morals. He knew human nature well; you might put on a brave front, but just like all the others, you're a meek little ant in the face of his power.
“It appears so, dear. Would you care to do something about it?” He prompted you, glee in his voice.
The joy in his voice was undoubtedly a red flag in your book, but you gave in. You let out a huff, a sound you often made when dealing with troublesome patients, before finding the kitchen medical kit. You moved with familiarity, placing the kit on the counter and gently guiding his hand towards you.
Although he expected the kit, he didn't expect you to gently grab his hand and bring it towards you. On instinct, his hand twitched closed around yours for a moment, his claws warning you of how easily he could tear you apart. Your breath had hitched, but your plan remained.
“We need to disinfect the wound first. That knife could've been contaminated,” you muttered. It was mainly to fill up the silence lingering in the air like an insistent plague. His hand relaxed, appeased by your explanation.
You grabbed an alcoholic wipe and carefully cleaned the wound, the wipe turning red. Your face was still, focused.
Alastor watched in small surprise, not expecting you to be so attentive towards him. He was so used to other demons being too scared to think straight, yet here you were, touching him so casually. Your touch didn't even feel too incredibly invasive. Instead, it felt professional, but not cold.
You were glad the sting didn't make him react too much, disinfecting the wound going well. You then pulled out a strip of bandage. “The cut isn't too big, so it just needs to be covered as it heals, but I know you wear gloves, so it needs to be extra secured so the glove doesn't mess with it,” you explained. You carefully wrapped it up, and finally finished with your work. You looked up at him, gauging his reaction.
He tested the treatment, clenching his hand a few times. That seemed to satisfy him. He looked at you and you couldn't help but fidget, averting your eyes. He was still unnerving as fuck, but at least he didn't try to eat you alive?
You began to put your supplies away, but his voice demanded your attention once more. You shifted your gaze over to him when he began to speak.
“Well, aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly,” he mused. He picked up the knife with his good hand. You stumbled back a little, bumping into the counter. He twirled the knife as you watched with wide eyes, oh God, maybe he was going to kill you now? Or torture you? You really were bold, oh God.
He twirled the knife in his hands, the metal glinting menacingly at you. Then he angled it away from the both of you as if holding up a finger. “I'll make you some Gumbo!” He grinned merrily at you. Your paled expression during his teasing had him absolutely delighted. He couldn't help but poke some fun at you, scaring you to your wit's end.
“O-Oh, thank you… sir,” you let out the breath you were holding, relief flooding your system.
“Now why don't you go rest up and I'll call you when supper is ready?” He ordered you, waving you off with his bandaged hand.
“Ah, sure, after I finish my-” you trailed off as you looked towards the freezer. Black inky tentacles glowing green were doing your job, placing the ice packs in neatly. “Thank you,” you muttered in surprise. That was one job finished.
“You are quite the diligent little mouse! You should take a break and take care of yourself,” he hummed, leaning against the counter as he watched you.
Shivers went up your spine, the hairs on your neck prickling. You sighed, forcing the tension in your body to disperse. “Thanks. I suppose I do need to take a break,” you agreed. You didn't have the best sleep schedule, and you could go for a nap after staying up a bit late tending to Husk and then getting the scare of your death. You shuffled out of the kitchen.
Now that Alastor was alone, he began to reflect. You weren't boring, that was for sure. He would definitely have to tease you more. You looked so adorable when focused, why he could just eat you up! He looked back down at his hand, looking at the carefully bound bandages. You remembered he wore gloves. You even took it into consideration. How awfully kind of you. Well, he took it upon himself to reward your kindness with relentless teasing from him.
After all, you were like a shiny new toy for him to bat around. He would see how long it would take to get you around his finger. He clenched his fist, ignoring the pain erupting from the cut. He readied his knife and grabbed his half-cut vegetable to continue his work.
He was getting ahead of himself, getting so excited over his future plans. First, he needed to make some Gumbo.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I've got my eyes on you,
So best beware where you roam
I've got my eyes on you,
So don't stray too far from home
---
The Radio demon has his eyes set on poor little you. Now you have to survive spending your morning with him. Maybe his company wouldn't be so bad if you didn't find every part of him (cane included!) as terrifying. Good luck, because you'll need it, alongside some nice manners!
So i noticed that the overlords get this really weird drool when they're on a power trip?? Or at least I think it's during power trip moments.
For Alastor it's right after he beats Vox in their sing off in "Stayed Gone". For Vox its right before "Stayed Gone" when he was about to taunt Alastor. For Valentino it's when he was threatening Angel Dust after he stood up to him for Nifty. My theory is that it happens when a powerful sinner gets a power trip moment or something. Its just something interesting I saw throughout the series.
There is also Lucifer during "Hell's Greatest Dad" drools gold. He brags about his heavenly powers and mentions "Who just happens to also be [Charlie's] blood!" and we can see what we can presume to be ichor/blood of Lucifer. I think this still falls under the powertrip category since the entire song is about Alastor and Lucifer fighting about their bond with Charlie.
I'd love to hear anyone's theory on this since there are so many possibilities. My current theory is that its blood that powerful sinners get when they get worked up?
Idk i'm just rambling at this point. I did little to no research beyond the Hazbin Hotel Wiki so maybe there is already an explanation?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought to my plea
Casts a spell over me
But I say to myself, "Get a hold of yourself
Can't you see that it never can be?"
---
You talk with the friendly intruder and get invited to a club with Alastor. You decide that's next week's problem and go about your work week. Despite the awful dread in your stomach, you at least made friends with a famous porn star this week! Maybe this will all be okay? Or maybe this will end up with you eternally tortured. Who knows!
