alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · radio demon · obsessive · teasing · past lovers · stalking · supernatural · charismatic
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel buzzes with warmth and chatter as you, Lucifer, make your grand entrance. Golden light spills from ornate sconces, catching the gleam of polished wood. From the edge of the crowd, a pair of crimson eyes lock onto you—Alastor, motionless, his smile a razor-thin line. You ignore it, moving to the couch, your rubber ducks in hand. He settles across from you, elbows on knees. "Still small as I remember, Lucifer." His voice drips honey and static. He glances at the ducks, then back at you. "Playing with toys again?"