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fanby-fckry · 27 days

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A Rose by Any Other Name

Day 3 of Ace Alastor Week: QPR Day

Word Count: 2,533

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Cartoon)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Archive Warnings: None

Additional Warnings: Implied/Referenced Kink (in the form of a Fade to Black ending), Implied/Referenced Cheating (no actual cheating occurs), Period Typical Attitudes, Outdated Terminology, (see beginning notes for more info)

Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Mentioned Lilith Magne | Morningstar

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Fluff, Humor, Attempt at Humor, Light Angst, Established Relationship, queer platonic relationship, Polyamory, Open Marriage, Lilith and Lucifer Magne | Morningstar have an Open Marriage, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) Aromantic Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), (but he will deny it until the day he double dies), Bisexual Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Bisexual Disaster Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, Nonbinary Lucifer Magne | Morningstar, (yup finally getting into Luci’s gender fuckery), Talking, Conversations, Awkward Conversations, Misunderstandings, the ‘what are we?’ conversation except it’s ‘what do we call us?’, what to call your qpp when the term qpp hasn’t been invented yet, Enochian Language (Abrahamic Religions), (taking massive liberties with the Enochian language), Fade to Black, Unreliable Narrator

Series: Part 3 of Fanby’s Ace Alastor Week 2024 ( <- Prev || Next -> ) || Part 6 of The Unholy Trinity

Summary:

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Alright, my darling, spiteful deer. If not ‘paramour,’ then what should I call you?”

Alastor maneuvered himself into a more upright position.

“Hmm,” he hummed. ‘Paramour’ certainly wasn’t the right word, but he was drawing a blank on what was.

Lucifer and Alastor try to come up with a word to describe their relationship to each other. They only get side-tracked once or five times.

Better on AO3

Author’s Notes:

During the gender fuckery portion of their discussion, Alastor uses somewhat outdated language and while he has a vague idea that gender and sex aren’t a static binary, his grasp on the subject isn’t exactly congruent with more modern views.

This fic takes place in 1943. He’s using the language he has access to at the moment, and he’s honestly a bit ahead of his time thanks to Lucifer’s influence.

This is my first time adding notes to a tumblr fic, let’s see how this goes!

It had come up unexpectedly. A word, or rather, the lack of a word.

Lucifer had been telling Alastor about a conversation he’d had with Lilith, and in passing, he’d called Alastor his ‘paramour.’

Alastor cocked his head to the side. “You still call me that?” he asked.

“Hm?” Lucifer hummed absentmindedly. “What, my paramour?”

“Yes, that,” Alastor confirmed. “It makes it sound like I’m your…” Alastor made a conscious effort not to let the corners of his smile drop. “Mistress,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“Well, you’re not my mistress,” Lucifer said, far too casually. “Last I checked, you’re a man who uses masculine language.”

Lucifer paused. “Last I checked,” he repeated.

Alastor stared at him, unblinking, wondering what the hell he was on about.

“If you ever feel like changing that, let me know. I’d be happy to call you whatever fits best,” the Devil offered. “And Sinner forms are more malleable than you might think when it comes to physicality.”

“I…” Alastor faltered. He could sense Lucifer’s sincerity on the matter, despite it not being at all relevant.

Lucifer was, in his own words, ‘not bound by human concepts of gender,’ with a particular distaste for ‘that strange binary system that’s gotten so popular.’ He actively encouraged demons and humans alike to live as their true selves even if – hell, especially if – that truth was an unconventional one.

And while Alastor legitimately could not care less about his own gender, he didn’t have it in his heart to spurn such genuine kindness from Lucifer. “Thank you for your support on my hypothetical sex change-”

“You’re welcome!” Lucifer interjected, all sunshine and smiles, and Alastor was hit with a swift and jarring reminder that Lucifer was once a creature of Heaven.

“But that is not even remotely the point!” Alastor said, exasperated. “I meant that it implies that we’re sneaking around.”

“We are sneaking around,” Lucifer said. “You don’t want the public to know about our relationship.”

“It implies that you’re cheating on your wife!” Alastor said, finally, his voice laced with static.

“Oh,” Lucifer said in sudden realization. “I didn’t think about it like that. Lilith and I have both used ‘paramour’ to describe our other partners since the fourteenth century,” he explained. “It just doesn’t have that kind of connotation to us.”

“Well it does to me!” Alastor sighed. “It was one thing when I thought I was an affair partner, but now that I know about your arrangement with Lilith, I’d like to stop feeling like some kind of homewrecker.”

“Hold on, did you actually feel guilty about the idea that we were” – Lucifer added largely unnecessary air quotes for dramatic effect – “‘having an affair?’”

Alastor laughed mirthlessly. “Remorse is for children and weak willed men. I outgrew it by the age of ten!”

“You’re not fooling anybody,” Lucifer teased. “Even if it wasn’t guilt, you felt something. And you were happy to know that you didn’t come between Lilith and I.”

Lucifer tapped his index finger against Alastor’s chest. “You’ve got a heart in there after all.”

“Hahaha, on the contrary, my dear friend!” Alastor swiped Lucifer’s hand out of the way and placed his own hand over his heart instead, curling it into a fist as he spoke. “While I may indeed have a heart, you’ll find it’s filled to the brim with more useful things, like bloodlust and spite!”

Alastor offered Lucifer a rather patronizing smile and wrapped his arm around him, taking advantage of the smaller form Lucifer so preferred to manipulate the Devil like a ragdoll.

“There’s no room for any of that emotional nonsense you’re blathering on about,” Alastor said with a dismissive hand wave.

He pulled out all the stops – sound effects, body language, squeezing Lucifer so hard it would’ve broken his ribs if he were human.

“I need every bit of it working towards my passion for performance! My romance with radio! And of course, my one true love…” Alastor performed a mock swoon to really top things off, one that ended with Lucifer scrambling to catch him. He looked up at Lucifer with half-lidded eyes and purred the word, “Murder.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Alright, my darling, spiteful deer. If not ‘paramour,’ then what should I call you?”

Alastor maneuvered himself into a more upright position.

“Hmm,” he hummed. ‘Paramour’ certainly wasn’t the right word, but he was drawing a blank on what was.

“Boyfriend?” Lucifer suggested.

“Too juvenile.” Alastor promptly shut him down. “I’m a grown man and you’re older than humanity itself.”

“Partner?”

Alastor scoffed. “What are we, cowboys? Businessmen? Coppers? Lawyers? No thank you!”

“Lover?”

“Same implications as ‘paramour,’” Alastor told him. “And it adds the assumption that I love you.”

Something constricted in Alastor’s chest. The weight that was the acknowledgement of their mis-mached attraction, the crushing pressure of expectation.

In a moment of precarious vulnerability, Alastor felt the need to explain himself, the words tumbling off his tongue before he could think to stop them. “I know that you love me, and I care for you, I really do, but…”

Lucifer’s voice cut through Alastor’s rambling. “I know,” he said, gentle yet firm. “And I don’t expect anything else from you. I’m perfectly happy with the way things are between us.”

Lucifer held out a hand, palm up, offering Alastor the opportunity to initiate the touch.

Alastor took Lucifer’s hand. The pressure eased.

“What about something more personalized to you?” Lucifer asked. “Are there any French Creole words that might fit?”

Alastor thought it over, searching his memories for words he hadn’t considered applying to himself since he was a much younger man and still under the impression that he might someday fall in love.

‘Amourè’ had roots in love, as well, and wasn’t something he’d want to be called. ‘Kalin’ was more removed, but Alastor had always found the word a bit peculiar. As a noun, it meant ‘boyfriend’ or ‘male lover,’ but as an adjective, it was used to describe someone as lazy.

“No, none that I can think of!” Alastor said, sparing Lucifer his thought process.

Lucifer hummed. “I’ll just have to continue my guessing game, then,” the Devil mused. “Darling?”

“Too generic. You use that one on everyone from your wife to your one night stands.”

“Fair point,” Lucifer conceded. “How about sweetheart?”

“Too sentimental.”

“Significant other?” Lucifer offered. “S.O. for short?”

“Implies monogamy,” Alastor noted. “Which neither of us has any desire for.”

“Admirer?”

Alastor wrinkled his nose in disgust. “That makes it sound like I’m running a Lucifer Morningstar fan club.”

“I mean,” Lucifer said, drawing out the words in a wheedling manner. “I certainly wouldn’t mind that.”

“Lucifer.”

“I’d even start a Radio Demon fan club to reciprocate,” the Devil promised.

Alastor’s smile thinned to a line. “Lucifer, I’m vetoing ‘admirer.’”

“You’re no fun sometimes,” Lucifer pouted.

Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea, myself, but every once in a while, we will have to have a serious conversation.”

“But why does this have to be one of them?” Lucifer asked. “We’ll find a word for us eventually, but what’s the rush? What’s with this sense of urgency? You’re putting yourself under so much pressure, and for what?”

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose,

By any other word would smell as sweet.”

Quoting Romeo and Juliet was sickeningly sweet – and so very, very Lucifer that Alastor found it rather endearing in spite of himself. A Shakespearean comedy revered as a romantic tragedy, on the lips of the Devil, himself, as he tried to comfort his not-quite lover.

“Having a name for us might be helpful, but not having one isn’t going to end us.” Lucifer brought his free hand up to Alastor’s cheek, not quite touching it, and allowed Alastor to close the rest of the distance.

“You’re still my Alastor, my darling deer. I’m still your Lucifer, your Devil dearest. We’re still us.” Lucifer squeezed Alastor’s hand and gave him a pleading look. “Try and remember that, please, Al? Maybe it’ll help to take some of the pressure off.”

The realization hit Alastor like a bullet between the eyes. “I was doing it again, wasn’t I?”

Lucifer gave him a lopsided half-smile. “Getting hung up on the details, stressing the fuck out, and getting combative because things were out of your control and that scared you? Yes, yes you were.”

Alastor cursed under his breath. “Alright, how do I…” Struggling to find the right words, Alastor repeated Lucifer’s back to him. “How do I stop getting hung up on the details and stressing the fuck out?”

“Uhh,” Lucifer faltered.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Alastor thought to himself. He doesn’t know either?

“Give me a minute!” Lucifer protested, as if sensing Alastor’s judgment. “It’s not something I have a problem with, myself, and Lilith’s better at giving advice without speaking from experience.”

Alastor watched the Devil flounder for a moment, taking a small amount of sadistic glee in not being the only one struggling with emotional intelligence for once.

“Alright, I got it!” Lucifer said, finally. “You trust me, right, darling?”

“Yes…” Alastor said hesitantly.

“And you choose to trust me,” the Devil continued. “It’s something that you consider to be within your control.”

That wasn’t always the case – trusting Lucifer had been entirely accidental at first; at the time, it felt very much not within Alastor’s control, which had caused Alastor a great deal of distress and nearly led him to sabotaging the relationship on multiple occasions – but now…

“Yes,” Alastor answered honestly. Because trusting Lucifer was now a conscious decision. It was a choice he’d made after waking up in bed with the Devil one October morning, and one he had continued to make every day since then.

“So choose to trust me, now,” Lucifer said. “Trust that I know what I’m talking about, here.”

“Do you know what you’re talking about?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer stuck his forked tongue out. “Rude,” he said. “But fair. I’m asking for your trust and it's well within your right to make me earn it.”

Lucifer paused for a moment, then asked, “Did you know Lilith and I didn’t have a word for what we were for centuries?”

Alastor raised one eyebrow. “I assumed you would’ve called each other husband and wife.”

“Nope,” Lucifer said, popping the ‘p’ sound at the end. “It was a good long while before either of us were ready for that.”

“I mean, Lilith left the Garden so that she could be something more than just some guy’s wife. She wasn’t exactly itching to get married again.” Lucifer ran his free hand through his hair. “And I’d just Fallen so I was still getting used to the whole ‘not dedicating my entire existence to my Father’ thing…”

The Devil got a far off look in his eyes for a moment, and Alastor found himself holding tighter to Lucifer’s hand in an effort to bring him back.

Thankfully, it worked. Lucifer smiled softly and turned his attention back to Alastor.

“There wasn’t really a word back then for someone who was a lover but not a spouse,” Lucifer said. “There were exactly two languages – well, three if you count Tongues – but not one had a word for what we were to each other.”

“Was it…” There were one thousand and one questions on Alastor’s lips. In an effort to save time, he chose the most open-ended one. “What was it like?”

“New,” Lucifer answered. “And terrifying. Everything was, back then.”

“Hm,” Alastor hummed. The words echoed back to him from inside his mind. First in Lucifer’s voice – ‘New. And terrifying. Everything was’ – and then in a voice that sounded like his own – ‘New. Terrifying. Everything is.’

“And despite it all, we survived.” Lucifer’s voice caught Alastor’s ear. “We spent almost five-hundred years hopping between various endearments with nothing ‘official’ to call ourselves because the words to describe our love just hadn’t been invented yet.”

“Almost five-hundred years,” Lucifer repeated. “So, I think you and I can manage a little longer than five minutes if you just calm the fuck down.”

Alastor laughed in spite of himself. “Alright,” he said. “As you seem to be speaking from experience, Devil dearest, I suppose I can place my trust in your time tested hands.”

“Whoo!” Lucifer cheered, face alight with the goofiest grin imaginable.

Creature of Heaven, Alastor reminded himself with a sigh. And what an odd creature he was. Alastor wondered if all angels were like this – when they weren’t coming down in droves to commit mass murder in the name of population control – or if Lucifer was an oddity amongst even his angelic kin.

Lucifer cleared his throat and schooled his features in a rather amusing attempt at seriousness. “Better?” he asked.

Alastor thought about it for a moment before answering. “Yes, actually!”

It was surprising the difference it made to hand over control of a situation rather than feel it slipping through his fingers.

The seemingly impossible task of finding a single word to describe his and Lucifer’s connection to each other was now firmly Lucifer’s responsibility – as were any potential consequences of not finding one.

Alastor didn’t need to think about the what ifs or the what nows; he didn’t need to get wrapped up in the details of linguistic origins or cultural connotations. Lucifer would find something, or he wouldn’t. And either way, they’d be alright.

“I am curious, though,” Alastor said. “About the endearments you mentioned. And how they differ from ‘official’ labels.”

“Oh, that.” Lucifer paused. “If I had to compare… They were more like ‘darling deer’ and ‘Devil dearest’ than ‘paramour’ or ‘partner.’ Words for each other, not for the relationship.”

“Hm,” Alastor hummed, curiosity far from sated. He knew that these ancient endearments were in tongues he couldn’t understand, and yet, he couldn’t help but wonder…

“Tell me one,” Alastor demanded.

Lucifer got a dreamy look in his eyes. “I used to call Lilith” – Lucifer made a sound that Alastor could never hope to replicate, even with the entirety of Hell’s airwaves at his disposal. Perhaps if he had Heaven’s, he might get somewhere close, but it’d never match the reverence with which Lucifer spoke.

It was beautiful, melodic, Heavenly. And for the first time in quite some time, Alastor found himself genuinely awed by Lucifer’s angelic nature.

“It’s the Enochian word for ‘song,’” Lucifer explained.

“Fitting,” Alastor whispered, somewhat breathless. “It sounded like music.”

Lucifer laughed. “Oh the whole language is a bit musical,” he said.

The Devil gasped. “Wait, that’s it!”

“What?” Alastor asked. “What is it?”

“Flame,” Lucifer said, eyes lit up like the sun. “As in, I don’t want to set the world on fire,” he sang.

By the next line, Alastor was singing along with him, the instrumental playing behind them.

“I just want to start

A flame in your heart.”

Alastor kissed Lucifer with rare softness. “It’s perfect,” he whispered against the Devil’s lips.

“Told you we’d last more than five minutes,” Lucifer teased.

Alastor bit him in retaliation. And well, it rather devolved from there.

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