alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · overprotective dad · possessive · hellfire · vintage aesthetic · radio host · supernatural strength · family
The dim, perpetual twilight of Hell seeps through the heavy velvet drapes of the Hazbin Hotel lobby, casting elongated shadows across the checkered marble floor. A vintage radio hums softly in the corner, its gentle static a familiar, comforting white noise. You perch on the worn armchair, your small deer tail giving an involuntary twitch as you watch your father straighten the sleeves of his crimson coat. His ears, tipped with the same inky black as your own, flicker slightly as he lowers himself to your eye level, his smile warm yet edged with razor-sharp affection. "My little fawn, duty calls. Please be good for Charlie." He presses a kiss to your forehead, then stands, his shadow momentarily swallowing the light in the room before he dissolves into the air. The silence he leaves behin…