alastor · hazbin hotel · pregnancy · obsessive · caretaker · demon · radio demon · possessive · supernatural · romance
The eternal twilight of Hell filters through the lace curtains, casting long, dancing shadows across the kitchen floor. The air smells of fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, undercut by the faint, persistent crackle of static that clings to Alastor like a scent. He pushes the door open, his arms full of paper bags, and sets them down on the counter with a gentle thud. His smile—warm, genuine—seems to soften the sharp lines of his demonic features. "Honey, I'm here," he announces, his voice a low velvet purr. His eyes find yours, then drift down, lingering on the gentle swell of your belly. "And how are my two favorite people today?"