𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 ★Alastor x fem! reader★🥀

Ch. II ✡Zestial✡

With a simple nod and thank you, you reach for the bowl and begin to take small spoonful's, eating with grace and elegance, your posture straightened and your elbows off the table. The taste of cinnamon and brown sugar explodes in your mouth, and you can't help but drool a little from how good it tastes.

Zestial snaps his fingers again, but this time a small teacup placed on top a little plate sets itself down on your left side, the smell of lemon mixed with honey lingering in the air around you.

"Thank you," you take a sip of the sour yet subtly sweet tea, the honey leaving behind a sensation of tingles as it runs down your throat.

Zestial smiles. "Doth tell, how did thee fare during thy meeting with Alastor?"

You set the teacup down. "It went well. Alastor agreed that I should be given a position on the Hotel's staff, and I must be there first thing this morning."

"Splendid," Zestial smiles, "I knew thou would succeed. Thou will excel greatly with time, holding such a position."

You smile softly. It always warmed your heart whenever your father would compliment you or approve of your actions and decisions. If you continue at this rate, perhaps he will see that you are capable of handling yourself.

You rise from your chair, taking the dirty dishes to the sink to wash before you will then need to leave. You don't want your first impression to Alastor hindered by running late. But you have a few minutes to spare to clean the dishes that way the servants don't have to. They do enough throughout the day, and even though this chore is quite small, you hope that maybe they'll be grateful.

Zestial stares at your back in silence while your hands wash the cups and plates. But when you hear your father speak, you can't help but clench a cup, nearly shattering it in the water.

"There is still the arrangement of thy marriage that must come to finality. Such a proposition should not be cast aside so idly, my daughter."

Your insides twist. In these recent weeks, ever since the meeting of Overlords, the reduced time of the next Extermination, and the fact that chaos is only growing in the streets of Hell, Zestial fears for your safety.

And since news of a certain Prince of one of Hell's rings has taken a fancy of you, it made the strings in Zestial's head connect.

Allow your hand in marriage--an arranged marriage you like to call it--and your future will be secured. Not only secured, but marrying into royalty will strengthen the family Morde name tenfold. And when you have an heir, it will be then that the Morde family name will continue on, officially being tied to royalty.

An idea you find horrifying and unnecessary. Marrying into a loveless marriage between a Prince and you? You cannot bear such a thought. Which is why the determination to be able to work at the Hazbin Hotel--and the possibility of being able to leash Alastor who for centuries has proven to be untamed--will make you work tirelessly just to prove to Zestial that you do not need to be married to be safe in this realm.

You are all the safety that you need.

Knowing your father doesn't like to be ignored when speaking, you look over your shoulder at him to address the topic of marriage with a calm and clear tone.

"I know that father," you say, trying to appear stoic, yet Zestial can see the hesitation and flicker of worry in your eyes.

Zestial clasps his hands. "Thou art worry," he says in a gentle voice, "but thou will see that this be'ith the best choice to secure thy future."

He rises from his chair, his cloak making a swooshing sound on the obsidian polished floor beneath your feet as he approaches you. He raises one hand to gently touch your cheek, which forces your eyes to meet his.

He stares down at you in silence, his eyes seeming to search for the pieces of your mother in your face, your smile. Though you possess a fair portion of your father's features, you have your mother's heart, her determination when her mind is set.

You have her independent spirit, which was the sole reason as to why he had fallen in love with her...all those centuries ago.

Zestial's hand falls away gingerly from your face, going to his side as he inhales a breath. "I will arrange a meeting for you and the prince in due time. All I ask of thee, my daughter, is for you to arrive, and to smile."

He smiles when he says the last word, hoping that his grin will make you do the same. Though yours is less genuine and more forced.

You hide a clenched hand behind your leg, wanting to speak up and tell him not to arrange a meeting, but you bite your tongue. You can't stop this, and you can't fight it. All your life, all your father has done is protect and care for you. He was the one to have shaped you into the demoness you are today. The one that sat by your bedside and read Brother's Grimm fairytales as a child when you didn't feel sleepy.

You...have no position to deny his little requests for you. Not while the facts swirl in your head.

He stepped in and took both positions of being a father and a mother to you, when your blood mother vanished from your life a week after your birth. All of which...you still don't know why. Nor do you even know who exactly your mother was.

It remains a mystery to this day, no matter how many times you've begged your father to tell you, he continues to deny your request at each and every turn, claiming that it is best that you do not know who your mother is.

You raise your head to meet his gaze, nodding once. "Very well. I will be there."

"Good," Zestial responds, before turning and going back to the kitchen table to finish his tea that's going cold. "Thou must go with haste, you would not want to be'ith late," he smiles softly at you, his way of saying his goodbyes and his best wishes for your first day working at the Hazbin Hotel.

You inhale a breath, lifting the hood of your cloak over your head as you turn to leave the quietness of your home and enter Hell's streets. But before your body leaves the doorway, his voice speaks again behind you.

"I request of thee to tread careful, being near the presence of someone like the Radio Demon. He is a man of tricks and charm using his mask to manipulate people into his little games of fate. Thou must be careful, for if thou are swayed by Alastor...you will be consumed, thy soul forever lost in his darkness."

You freeze, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, as you inhale a little breath. "You have no need to fear," you reply, not looking over your shoulder while you speak, "Alastor will not succeed in taking over me. I will...make you proud of me."

Before your father can respond, you leave the home, walking at a fast pace down the stone steps of your home and the cracked sidewalks of Pentagram city. Fear floods your veins when you realize just how close this bubbling pot is reaching the rim. You have limited time to be able to convince your father to cancel this arranged marriage. You need to succeed.

And if you don't...then you will be faced with a loveless marriage, a life of being mute, while you care and tend for an heir to the throne while your husband runs off with his mistress's when he grows bored of you.

You would rather die than allow yourself to stoop that low and be walked all over.

No, this marriage will not happen. You will make damn sure it won't.

Which is why, you are practically running down the streets, your eyes locked on the Hazbin Hotel ahead of you. Your only ticket to freedom...you need to get it before it's too late.

Here is Zestial💚🖤🕸🕷