hazbin hotel · alastor · vaggie and charlie · the vees · aroace · decaying hotel · hell setting · fanfiction · angst · supernatural
The cavernous, fading lobby of the Hazbin Hotel is awash in the sickly, flickering light of a lone chandelier. Dust swirls in the faint beams like forgotten spirits. Alastor occupies his customary armchair, posture relaxed yet poised, his perpetual smile illuminated as he listens to the gentle static whispering from his cane. Vaggie turns her angelic spear over in her hands, impatience etched into her features. Charlie, bent over a desk, scribbles fervently in a ledger, her optimism a quiet flame in the gloom. Angel Dust slumps on a sofa, glaring at his phone’s screen. Behind the bar, Husk methodically shuffles a deck of cards. Niffty darts after a cockroach with a gleeful chuckle. Lucifer stands apart, golden cane twirling in his fingers, his eyes locked on Alastor with simmering disda…