Alastor x Male Reader Prequel

Study and Questioning Gone Wrong

Me: Welcome back! I heard the news about Hazbin! I'm so pleased! My mental health has taken a dive and I deeply want to have relief. I hope this chapter brings it to me. 

Trigger warning!! panic, fight flight or freeze, and feeling cornered.
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Since that night, (Y/n) has refused to speak about what happened. He has, however, engaged in the plotting of the next target. Alastor doesn't understand. He gets a sense of this being normal occurrence given the situation at hand. So, naturally, Alastor pushes the boundaries.

Alastor knocks on the door to (Y/n)'s room. A small shuffling is heard as (Y/n) gets up to open said door.

"Yes?" (Y/n) asks.

Alastor smiles, "May I come in?"

(Y/n) nods, "Yes, um... sure."

Alastor notices the floor has dried paint everywhere. There are papers in a pile on the night stand. The bed is made and sketchbooks neatly placed on the vanity. (Y/n) goes back to his seat where he's working on a painting.

Alastor takes a seat on the edge of the bed, "I'd like to talk with you about something?"

That grabs (Y/n)'s attention, "Is it bad?"

Alastor shrugs, "No, at least I don't think so."

(Y/n) tilts his head, "Well, what is it? I'm curious now."

Alastor puts a hand up and gives it a twirl, "It's about the murders."

(Y/n) tenses up, "What? Was I not doing it right? Too dull?"

Alastor raises an eyebrow, "You don't speak of it."

(Y/n) nods, "Rightly so. It's not a topic of conversation suitable at dinner. Nor do I wish to."

Alastor watches, "Does it bother you?"

(Y/n) shakes his head. "No... it doesn't. I think that's what worries me the most. It should and I hate that it doesn't."

Alastor listens.

(Y/n) shakes his head in an attempt to clear his mind, "It's nothing. I'm capable and am willing. Nothing to discuss."

Alastor stands up and decides to look at the painting. It's deep red sunset with pink clouds. Alastor doesn't understand the meaning or the feelings that it invokes. That's fine; he doesn't comment.

(Y/n) sets his things aside and looks to Alastor, "Is that all?"

Alastor nods, "Yes, but-"

(Y/n) cuts him off, "Wonderful! I'll help Mrs. Amelie when she starts cooking! Until then I'd like to be alone! Thank you!"

(Y/n) pushes Alastor out of the room. Alastor let it happen. He'd just force him to talk tonight.

It's silly. Alastor was fascinated by the one person he didn't understand. He spent his days wondering just who (Y/n) was. He had a basic idea, but he knew that wasn't everything. (Y/n) was a social creature. He spent hours managing a room of people conversing, only to be tuckered out. Then the man spent two fold those hours by himself. Like clockwork (Y/n) did the chores, ate, and went to sleep at the same time everyday. A slight deviation set the whole pattern askew for the man. Alastor loved the routine because it made things simple for Alastor. Alastor concluded that (Y/n) did this to have some form of control in his life. Likely a need caused by childhood trauma.

(Y/n) had studied Alastor's mannerisms. He knew when Alastor was happy by the way his lips softened the smile he wore. Alastor only ever stopped smiling when he thought it was inappropriate to do so. (Y/n) noticed how Alastor straightened his posture when he saw (Y/n). He liked when Alastor was calm because Alastor was still for a change. Alastor was irritated when he messed with his fingers. When Alastor was truly angry he glared and his cheeks turned a shade of red. If Alastor was ever surprised his eyes would go huge and he took a tiny step back. It was rare to see that last one. (Y/n) knew he hadn't seen everything. So, he watched. (Y/n) had concluded that Alastor wasn't as guarded as he liked to believe. So, it only made sense as his partner in crime to cover those weaknesses. He would have to be careful about it.