Helluva boss/Hazbin Hotel reader insert oneshots/headcanons/scenarios

Alastor x Child reader

Submitted by AllisonTart

TW!! Vomit/blood and violence!!

It was... dark.

I was standing in darkness, the only thing visible was my small house in the suburbs in flames and my lower half as I looked down at myself.  

Gunshots went off behind me. I looked at my hands-covered in blood and dirt; a single match in my hand and a shovel in the other. I fell to my knees and looked where I assumed was up. A big red burning sun stared down back at me...literally. I could almost hear the laughter mixed with screams as it stared at you with intensity. My body went numb and cold. I tried to call out for Alastor, but no one came. I tried to sob but you couldn't. I couldn't move, I couldn't cry, I couldn't speak. Not a noise or a movement came out. Sirens approached and I heard the whispering of the neighbors. I couldn't see them, but I could tell they were there.  I could barely hear the whispers of my name coming from the sun, it's eye growing more furious looking as my name was repeated.

"Y/N!" I snapped open my eyes, the light in my room glowing as well as the red sunlight shining through the window. A hand on my shoulder shaking me, one that belonged to my dad. I slowly sat up and looked at my father.

"Ah, hello dad. Do you need me for something?" I asked the deer demon staring at me, his red eyes and sclera turned down a bit, his smile seemed pitiful.

"Dearie, your nightmares have been growing more frequent. I hate to admit it but I'm a bit....concerned for you, Y/N." he responded. I sighed and turned to look at him. 

"It's nothing, Al. Just the sh-terrible memories coming back to me when I thought I could escape. Nothing too bad just-just fine." I said. I don't want to look weak in front of my dad. He raised and trained me to be anything but weak. He raised me to be independent and deceitful. He shook his head at me. 

"Okay then, but just-come out for breakfast, okay? Belgian waffles is on the menu today, so you better arrive while they're still hot!" he bounced back to his happy self. I smiled and shooed him out of my room. I changed into my usual attire, styling my hair to just the way I want it to be before going downstairs and sitting at the staff breakfast table.

"Oh, Y/N! You're finally up! You weren't out at the usual time so I sent Al to check up on you. You look really tired. Are you doing okay?" Niffty asked me, handing me a plate of beautifully decorated waffles. I nodded. 

"Yeah, don't worry I just-I'm loosing my charm and oversleeping is...certainly a side effect!" I responded happily. She laughed happily before moving on. I sighed to myself. As everyone sat down at the large round table, we conversed amongst each other, occasional laughter coming from everyone. I, however-was silent. Left with nothing but my racing thoughts and memories. As I ate, my head started to hurt more and more. My memories of the day I died raced. It was only minutes before the image of my little siblings dead face down on the floor popped up. I almost choked on my food.

"Woah there toots, you okay? You seem kinda...off today. You sleep well?" Angel asked. I chuckled and got up from my seat. 

"Uh-uhm-yeah sorry I-er uh....I'll be right back just uh-I'll be back!" I said nervously and retreated to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror, the raspberry sauce on my face reminding me of all of the blood. I gagged and ran into the nearest stall before throwing up the breakfast I JUST ate. I laughed lazily, the world was spinning.

I heard a knock on the bathroom stall. 

"Y/N are you okay? You scared us for a second there.... Alastor sent me." Charlie said from the other side. I groaned.

"Ugh, I'm fine just-just wait oka-" I was cut off by my own gag. Geez, stress vomiting? How pathetic am I? 

"Y/N please let me in and tell me what's wrong. Are you sick?" she asked. When I finished, I stumbled as I shakily opened the stall. 

"N-nah....well I guess you can say so? Don't worry about it though I'm fine. Nothing I can't manage myself. Don't worry though I'm not actually SICK." I responded. She shook her head. 

"Oh dear. Uhm..how about we take you to your room! I'll excuse you from the reformative activities for today, okay?" she bargained. I hesitantly nodded before following her to my room. When I walked in, she closed the door and left me to myself. 

I felt like ripping my hair out. I breathed shakily as my brain forced me to play back the memories of the dead bodies. Of the murder. Of the fire. Of my murder. Why am I behaving like this?! It's just a memory it's just a memory it's just-

"Darling? Please open the door!" I gasped, but calmed down as I realized it was my father's voice.

"O-One second!" I called out. I looked at my mirror, but all I saw was the voice of a murderer. I wiped my tears that I didn't notice out of my face and opened the door for my dad. "Hey dad, how are you? Sorry for leaving breakfast early, I was-

"What's wrong?" He cut me off. My brows furrowed.

"Wha-"

"Let me tell you something. I may be a bit...wrong when it comes to emotions and I see that has impacted you in a way. I can tell when you're lying you know. It's not fine, and it's my fault why you think that it is." He admitted.

"Wow, since when did you get sappy and emotional? Honestly dad, it's FINE. I can deal with my memories on my own. Besides you went in an even worse way. Talk about overkill. I may have been shot 17 times, but you? Eaten by police dogs and shot in the head? You must have worse nightmares than me. So worry about yourself, I can handle my own issues." I said. To be honest though, I can't handle my own issues. I mean I will be able to at some point. Maybe when I actually grow up. But for now I need to figure it out on my o-

"This is exactly what I mean." he sighed before continuing. "Y/N, I care about you. As your father figure I have the right to admit when I'm wrong. That is something I only learned recently since growing up my father was worse at parenting than I. I'm getting emotional because I'm being told to grow as a person, not as an overlord. I feel like this is certainly a way to grow, so I'm trying it out." irritation was present in his voice. I slightly chuckled, making him look up at me. He didn't realize he was looking down.

"Dad, I promise you, I'm fine-"

"Just let me care about you, Y/N!" he yelled. My breath hitched. "The one time I try and make an effort to change, you just-refuse my help. Why?" he asked, his voice still loud and his smile faltering. I looked down at my feet. 

"I'm...I'm sorry dad I-I just-look. I'm acting how you wanted me to. It's not easy for me to change in a day dad, especially all in one morning. I want to trust you dad, I really do. But it's hard to trust when I spent SUCH. A LONG. TIME to stop trusting. When I first met you, I was relieved that you trained me with ease. I was relieved I could adapt to your methods easy and even already had certain attributes you wanted from me. But now you have to realize that I can't-I JUST CAN'T, OKAY? I don't know anymore. I'm sorry. I need to calm down." I said in response. My voice was shaky. He hesitantly reached out for my head before ruffling my hair. He sighed.

"I'm sorry for getting angry. We can speak to each other about whatever in our living lives right now. It can be your death, or it can be your happiest memory. Let's just start with baby steps, alright?" he asked. I nodded.

And we did just that. We each took turns listening to each other ramble about the living world. He shared his experience as a mixed man in the 20s, I shared my experience in a low income household, and we ended up talking for the whole day. By the time he left, it was already as dark as hell could get. As my head hit the pillow and I drifted to sleep, I didn't hear gunshots that night.

Father-child trauma bonding, huh? Has a good enough ring to it.