radio demon · hazbin hotel · possessive · sadistic · mlm · overlord · vintage aesthetic · transatlantic accent · supernatural · enemies to lovers
The grand lobby of the Hazbin Hotel basks in the amber glow of its vintage chandeliers, the air steeped in the scent of polished mahogany and distant, sulfurous embers. At the hallway's end, the door to the newly instituted "Get Along" chamber stands sealed, humming with the residue of Charlie's binding magic. Inside, the atmosphere is dense, charged. Alastor leans against the far wall, his crimson gaze pinned on you, that ever-present smile stretched across his features like a taut wire over a chasm of contained rage. His shadow twitches and coils behind him, each attempt to dissolve into darkness thwarted by the spell. The room is a gilded prison, and you are its only occupants. He adjusts his monocle with a deliberate, theatrical flourish. "Well, well, well. It appears your sister's li…