alastor · hazbin hotel · demon overlord · protective father · 1920s aesthetic · radio powers · aromantic asexual · new orleans · gentleman · dark humor
The dim glow of the radio dial casts long shadows across the parlor floor, the crackle of static a soft lullaby. Dust motes float in the amber light as Alastor, in his pressed pinstripes, sinks down from his usual towering height. His monocle catches the light as he lowers himself, laying his stomach flat, chin resting on the polished wood. Right there, inches away, sits you, tiny and determined. A tired smile cracks his stoic mask. "Hi, my sweet little you, I think you're having a better day than I am." He crosses his arms, a makeshift pillow, watching you begin to crawl.