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You had no idea why everyone at the hotel called you Spotty.
When you first got there, they had used your proper name, the one you’d been born with when you were alive. True, it seemed a lot of sinners and demons changed their names to something that seemed to align with what they had done in their mortal life to cause them to end up in hell. You were 90% sure Angel Dust wasn’t his birth given name for example, but you hadn’t. You chose to stick with your boring human life name: Y/N. Part of it was because you couldn’t figure out what to rename yourself. It seemed strange to go by your serial killer name, “Doe Eyes” (which for the record, you thought was stupid. Didn’t really strike fear into the hearts of everyone around you). In the end, the biggest reason was because you really just didn’t want to.
You didn’t think too much of the hotel Lucifer's daughter, Charlie, was screaming about all over town. You had a quiet life: stayed in an apartment you hid away from most of the world in, went to work at the local news station as a camera operator, and not much else. You had continued that way for forever, why would you risk the quiet thing you have going?
And then Alistor, the Radio Demon, came back from his hiatus and Hell started to fall apart.
Vox went wild, suspicious of everyone that worked for him. First, he fired anyone that he felt could be a mole, you hadn’t even been on the radar for that. Then he fired people from his decade, you’d been executed in the early aughts, so spared again. On and on it went until so many faces around you had changed from the ones you’d been working with for decades it didn’t surprise you anymore when you came in and didn’t recognize a single person. You thought you’d been spared, that your quiet demeanor, head down attitude, and your refusal to wear anything that would uncover your secret.
See, when sinners were sent to hell, they took on specific traits of things that either represented them in their human life or contributed to their death. Yours was the little deer tail that sat at the base of your spine. In the beginning you hid it because you hated the reminder, then it turned to hiding it so you could keep your job. You knew that if it was discovered You had any deer anatomy you’d be fired, might even be killed depending on what mood Vox was in. Thankfully for you, the truth came out on probably the best day.
It was during an Angel Dust shoot. You were checking over one of the cameras on a break. Another crew member stepped on the back of your bottoms just as you were moving forward and pulled it down. You felt the moment your tail popped out, felt the moment a pair of red eyes sitting behind heart glasses latched onto it. Valentino was behind you in an instant, his hand clamping onto your wrist.
“I’m only going to ask this once Y/N, and if I think you’re lying I’ll kill you myself. Are you working with the Radio Demon?” His voice wasn’t loud, but demanding. Life moved on around the two of them, checklists continued to be checked off, abs continued to be oiled, perfumes continued to be sprayed. The only person who even seemed to notice anything was truly amiss was Angel Dust, who’d been talking to Valentino about the scene. He was looking between the two of you with wide eyes.
You shook your head quickly, fear widening your eyes, “No sir, I swear!”
Valentino stared long and hard at you, so long you were sure he was thinking of the best way to kill you. Eventually he let go of your wrist and motioned to the door, “Get out, never come back. I would suggest leaving the city all together if I were you. And quickly.”
Nodding and hiking up the waistband of your bottoms back into place you hightailed it out, only stopping at your apartment to throw clothes and some personal items into a suitcase. You had no idea where you were going to go, but if you stayed you were sure
Vox would hunt you down and kill you.
As you were stuffing your suitcase your phone pinged with a text message. You glanced at it quickly, afraid it was from one of the Vees. Instead it was from Angel Dust, and it read simply, “Go to the hotel.”
So that’s what you did.
Half an hour later you were knocking on the front door of the Hazbin Hotel, clutching your large suitcase, terrified that the Princess of hell wouldn’t allow you to stay because you weren’t interested in redemption so much as not dying.
You didn’t really think about who would answer the door. If you had to guess, your first response would have been Charlie. The Radio Demon wouldn’t have even made the list. Yet here he was, that ever-present razor-sharp smile and red eyes peering down at you.
“Ah, hello. Are you a new guest of the hotel?” His filtered voice washed over you, snagging a bit on your frayed nerves. Here was the reason you had to flee for your life, blissfully unaware of his role in your misfortune. Not that he would care.
“I, uh, I’m actually just looking for a safe place to stay.” You began, chewing the bottom of your lip. Your tail twitched underneath your bottoms, responding to the anxiety coursing through your body.
Alistor took a step back and motioned you in with his microphone cane, presenting the lobby to you, “Well we certainly seem to be that. Tell me my dear, what exactly are you needing to be saved from?”
The door closed behind you as you made your way in, whisper soft as it clicked back into place, “I work-used to work for Vox, I was a camera person. Valentino saw my, um, my tail and fired me, told me to leave the city.”
“Tail?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side, “Now why would a tail cause all of the hullabaloo?”
“Oh, yeah sorry, it’s a deer tail. Vox got it into his head that anyone with deer features must be working for the Radio Demon.”
There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch forever for you, an endless void of red eyes as Alastor stared at you, that damned smile etched into his features.
And then he laughed.
Alastor laughed hard, doubling over and using his cane for support. He laughed for so long that others came from their various parts of the house to see what the hell was going on.
“I’m super glad that this is so funny to you.” Your tone was flat and monotonous, all sense of hesitancy or nervousness gone.
Finally his laughter died down to one of those balloon being deflated sounds as he straightened up and fixed his bow tie, “My dear that is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Why would I work with someone simply because they also have deer features? What would be the sense in that? You don’t seem all that threatening, hardly worth my time to know let alone befriend or become in league with.”
“Rude.”
He chuckled again, motioning to Charlie who had gathered with the rest of the hotel’s residents, “Here is the hotel's fearless leader, she’ll get you set up with a room. I have a broadcast to make.”
And true to his word, Charlie did set you up with a really nice room, and he did do a broadcast. It mainly featured Vox and his stupidity, but it was a broadcast nonetheless.
During this stage everyone called you Y/N. You continued to hide your tail under your bottoms, continued to keep to yourself. Angel Dust pried your personality out of the depth of your body one conversation at a time, helping you to remember who you were before you died. You’d been an exuberant soul, prone to laughter and joy. After your execution and your subsequent drop down to Hell you’d retreated in on yourself after realizing that you could die for good in the aftermath of your first Extermination. But here in this hotel with people who genuinely cared about you it was starting to become easy to remember who you were.
The first time Alastor properly came to you with a question you were slightly drunk, talking with Husk at the bar. It was also the first time you’d worn pants with a slit for your tail. It twitched as you talked, mimicking your laughter. It felt really, really good to let it free, let it breathe. You never realized just how much it hurt to keep it flat to your body all the time until now, when you noticed the distinct feeling of being comfortable in your clothing.
Husk was in the middle of recounting a story from his Overlord days when he trailed off, eyes following a figure as it walked up to the bar. You turned and looked, watching as Alastor approached, eyes half lidded as he took in your appearance.
“Y/N, why are you in Hell?” He started like a normal person, ignoring the way Husk narrowed his eyes at the tall demon.
You looked at him surprised, eyebrows shooting up, feeling your tail flair, “Oh, uh, I killed people.”
Alastor nodded, making a noise of acknowledgment, “On purpose?”
“Yeah, on purpose.”
“Mhm,” He adjusted his grip on his cane, studying the microphone, “Do you regret it?”
You took a long pull from the bottle in your hand, thinking about your answer. You felt Alastor’s eyes move from the microphone to your side profile, studying your features. When his eyes moved down to your tail you responded simply.
“No.”
He nodded again, the smile on his face reaching his eyes once more. He made his exit then without another word.
Alastor started to spend a lot more time around you. Mostly you two sat in companionable silence when one on one, but when talking with the rest of the hotel patrons he would hover near you, adding little quips here and there but content with being your shadow.
He really liked your company, your wit and banter, your quick laugh. You took everything in stride, filing information away and remembering the important things about the people you cared about. The first time you touched him you were drunk, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself after getting up from a chair without warning him. He immediately removed your hand from his chest, slipping his hand around your wrist to steady you.
“You don’t like being touched?” You slurred, staring up at him from under your lashes.
He shook his head, tucking your hand to your side, “No, I don’t, not when I’m not expecting it.”
You just nodded and he thought that would be the end of it, that you wouldn’t remember and he’d have to tell you again at some point. But you did remember.
“Alastor your tie is crooked, is it alright if I touch it to straighten it?”
He’d been too stunned to speak, just simply nodded and watched your hands as they fixed the garment and immediately withdrew. You flashed your pretty smile at him and continued your conversation with Vaggie.
You’d memorized his broadcasting schedule, and he’s realized that if his Oh Deer mug is ever not waiting for him on a coaster in the tower he’d immediately think something was incredibly wrong.
Little moments adding up to a relationship that was indescribable to the two of you as well as the rest of the hotel.
If you had to give a defining moment to when Spotty became your name to the residents of the hotel, it was when Lucifer came for a visit.
He’d been gone for a couple months, working on a project in another ring of Hell. Charlie had thrown a celebration, complete with a banner that said “Welcum Back!” in bright blue letters. You had put on your favorite outfit and done your hair for the occasion.
It wasn’t every day you met the king of Hell.
When Alastor saw your his smile widened, “You look gorgeous, my dear. What’s the occasion?”
You laughed softly and gave him a look, “Lucifer is coming today, Alastor. Did you not notice the banner and the cake?”
You watched as his eyes darted up and around, zeroing in on the decoration. His whole demeanor changed, going from relaxed to rigid. You watched as his shadow flared up and around him, his antlers pulsing in size.
“Alastor?” You asked, concerned laced in your voice and face.
As quick as it had shown it was gone, his features schooled once more. You could still feel the tension radiating off of him, but he looked more or less normal. As normal as the Radio Demon could look, at least.
Before you could ask what the fuck had just happened, the front door was opening and Lucifer was striding inside, talking with Charlie.
“ . . . and we have a new guest! You’re going to love them dad, they’re really nice. Even Alastor likes them!”
“I don’t care what the bus boy likes Char, but I’m happy to meet them.” He had a silky smooth voice that seemed to cause Alastor to tense even further. You had no idea what was happening but you knew it would have to wait as Charlie was currently bringing her father over to you.
“Hello sir,” You smiled, waving a bit, “I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” He smiled back at you, bowing his head a bit, “It’s nice to see a new face here, and Charlie seems to really like you.”
“Charlie has been a life saver, I’m not sure where I’d be without this hotel honestly.”
Lucifer laughed, nodding, “You and me both. Well, it was nice speaking with you, I’ll see you later? I have a couple things I need to speak with Char about.”
He stuck his hand out, palm up. Confused a bit, you placed your hand in his. He brought it to his lips, kissing the top of your hand.
At the same moment his lips made contact with your skin, a shadow snaked its way around your wrist and tugged it back, depositing itself into one of Alastors hands, not removing its grip on you.
“Well it’s been swell, why don’t you run along Lucifer?” Alastors voice was more staticy than normal, the tonal quality buzzing in your ear. He’d never been this close to you, half of his body pressed into your back. He was so warm, his core temperature high. His hand closed around yours, holding it to him, “I’m sure your . . . charms are needed elsewhere.”
Lucifer regarded Alastor like a dead mouse a cat had brought in, “What’s got your antlers in a twist?”
“I just thought finding that pot of gold was important to you, or are you just needing Charlie to order a box of Lucky Charms?” Alastor sneered, making a show of looking down at the shorter man.
That’s when the two men were pulled away from each other by Charlie and you.
Angel Dust was the one who caught the moment Alastor asked you if you were alright once Lucifer and Charlie were out of ear shot.
The next morning the chorus of good mornings changed from Y/N to Spotty.
At first you tried to ask what it was about, but everyone gave vague answers that didn’t make sense, or in Sir Pentious' case, stuttered and fled. Alastor didn’t seem to know either, and he had asked if you wanted him to ask them to stop, but at the end of the
day it didn’t really matter what they called you.
The day you found out why they called you Spotty was the day you had to confront your own feelings about Alastor.
It started like a normal day, eating breakfast in the communal sitting area. Alastor was braiding your hair, humming softly as his long fingers worked the hair into a crown around your head. You were listening to an old radio show, a crime drama. You were
engrossed, spooning cereal into your mouth on auto pilot. It was during an intense moment when you felt Alastors fingers leave your hair, the emptiness immediately evident.
“Al?” You asked, looking up, catching his retreating shadows as they disappeared and then coalesced at the front door.
You stood up and paused the show, smoothing out the creases in your pajama pants and making your way to where Alastor was rising from the shadows, one hand on the door knob as he turned it.
“Ah, Mimzy. What exactly are you doing here? Not looking for me to get you out of trouble again I hope?”
A short, blonde woman in a red flapper dress stood on the other side of the door, “Nah, nothing like that! I just came to see ya! Figured you were missing your best friend!”
“I see, well I did say not to return here unless you wanted to be redeemed. Have you changed your mind?” Alastors tone was jovial, but you could see the way his tail betrayed him, giving away his frustration at the woman.
“Maybe I have! Can I come in at least? Look around and see the place?” She was trying to peer around him and look inside.
Her eyes locked onto you and her features lit up in recognition. Alastor noticed the facial switch and looked behind him, seeing you who was standing halfway to the door.
“Mimzy, why are you really here? and don’t lie to me.” His tone was cheerful, melodic even, but his eyes narrowed as they swung back to Mimzy.
“If ya really wanna know, Vox has put a bounty on the does’ head. He wants them brought alive to him.” Mimzy shrugged, looking back at Alastor, “Said they was here and I was like ‘Ain’t no way my Alastor cares enough about this person to not let me get that insane amount of money’ so here I am!”
“Oh? Vox wants MY Dear? And why’s that?”
Mimzy was too sidetracked by you to see the tendrils of shadow, the elongating of the horns, the way his sclera bled black.
“Dunno, don’ care. I just want that money!”
It was interesting, watching Alastor kill. You always thought you would be repulsed by it, which is strange because you were never repulsed by your own actions in life when ending a human life. In truth, watching Alastor pop Mimzy’s body from her head like a cherry from a stem and chuck it into the Vox tower was . . . exhilarating. He killed for you, killed because someone had threatened you. If you had had someone do that in your human life, you would have been theirs mind, body, and soul in a heartbeat.
When Alastor came back, he took you by the hand and guided you back to the couch, sitting both of you down and resuming his braiding after handing you his staff to hold in your lap.
“Hey Al?” You asked after a moment.
He hummed in response, pulling more hair into the braid gently.
“What do you think of the two of us?”
“I think it’s a swell idea, Dear.” he responded simply.
It was then you realized why the hotel called you Spotty.
It stood for Soft Spot.
Alastor’s Soft Spot.