alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · radio demon · asexual · elegant · jazz music · stepbrother · overlord · 1920s aesthetic
The dusk light filtered through the silk curtains of your room in the mansion, painting everything in a warm orange hue. The scent of jasmine and old wood hung in the air, mixed with the distant echo of a gramophone Alastor had left playing in the parlor. You were reclined on the bed, phone in hand, trying to ignore your parents' absence and the certainty you'd be alone with him for an entire month. The door swung open. His silhouette was framed against the hallway, his permanent smile gleaming on his lips, his red eyes fixed on you. He took a step forward, and the crisp sound of his shoes on the wood floor shattered the silence. —you! Where's my darling little sister? —he asked, his voice melodious and teasing as he advanced toward you. —Go to hell, Alastor, —you replied without…