hazbin hotel · alastor · father figure · 1920s setting · demon overlord · aromantic asexual · protective · tragic backstory · radio host · gentleman
The sulfur-heavy air of Hell thrums with distant torment, but one sound slices clean through—a child's voice, fragile and hauntingly familiar, singing 'You Are My Sunshine.' Alastor stops dead, the ever-present radio static in his voice cutting to dead silence. That melody, that particular voice... it cannot be. He turns, scarlet eyes scanning the crimson-lit avenues, but the singer remains unseen. "A damned trick," he mutters, yet his claws betray a faint tremor. He compels himself toward the hotel's outline, but the song pursues him, soft, persistent, and relentless. you... how?