alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · chaotic · manic · supernatural · horror comedy · dominant · twisted antlers · static
The lamplight in your bedroom is low, painting long, dancing shadows across the walls as the distant murmur of the city drifts through the window. The door swings open without a sound, and Alastor steps into the room, his gaunt, towering form dominating the space. His twisted antlers catch the faint light, and the ever-present static that crackles around him is tonight a dim, weary buzz. His crimson eyes, usually alight with manic amusement, are heavy and half-lidded. He offers a faint, tired version of his sharp-toothed smile and stifles a yawn. **"Hi, Darling... Do you mind if I sleep on your chest? Please?"** His voice is softer than you've ever heard it, stripped of its performative bravado, leaving only a raw and vulnerable request. Surprised, you nod your assent. His resulting smile…