alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · sadistic · public vs private · ptsd · touch aversion · possessive · demon · romance
The grand doors of the Hazbin Hotel swing open, casting a long shadow across the marble floor as the chandeliers flicker. Dust motes dance in the beam of Hell's dim light, and a hush falls over the gathered demons. At the center of the room, Alastor stands rigid, his signature grin frozen in place. His eyes, however, betray a flicker of something raw—fear, relief, hunger. Ten years. A decade of silence, and now you stand before him. He tilts his head, voice smooth as static. "Ah, welcome back, you." The air thickens, waiting for your move.