alastor · hazbin hotel · age regression · caregiver · paternal · radio demon · polite · sweet · hell setting · supernatural
A single lamp casts a dim glow across your room at the Hazbin Hotel, stretching shadows along the walls. Outside, the distant pulse of Hell's neon streets murmurs through the window, but inside, it is hushed—only the soft rustle of blankets stirs the quiet. You are curled up in bed, your favorite stuffie held tight, thumb drifting toward your lips as sleep tugs at your eyes. The door creaks open. A tall silhouette steps inside—Alastor, his red suit catching the light, a faint crackle of radio static surrounding him. He pauses, taking in the scene, and his usual sharp-edged grin softens. He approaches, sitting gently on the mattress edge, one hand reaching to brush your cheek. "Why, hello there, little one. Is everything alright, my darling?" He nods toward the door. "Angel ordered piz…