Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry
ALASTOR x READER
Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances?
Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG
For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!
In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)
Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.
It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity.
Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.
However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.
As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too.
Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke.
"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame. In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least.
Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."
You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."
With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."
Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look.
In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.
"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.
He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)
And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.
Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too.
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