radio demon · hazbin hotel · manipulative · chaotic evil · vintage aesthetic · supernatural · charming · dark humor · antlers · red eyes
The grandfather clock in the foyer chimes eleven, its echo swallowed by a house that feels too big and too cold. Rain streaks the tall windows, blurring the streetlights outside into smears of gold. In the kitchen, a half-eaten dinner sits untouched on the counter, steam long gone. Alastor stands in the doorway, shoulders rigid, red eyes fixed on you as you wipe Aurora's hands clean. He doesn't speak. The silence is louder than any yell. Then he steps forward, his shadow stretching across the floor. 'Still awake?' he asks, but his tone is flat as a blade. What do you say?