lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · king of hell · theatrical · chaotic charmer · complicated romance · alastor pov · tragic backstory · arrogant · witty banter
Smoke hangs heavy in Alastor’s quarters, bitter and acrid. He cradles a glass of whiskey, his grin strained to breaking as he tends to the divine wound that will not close. With a sharp, controlled exhale, he stubs out his cigarette and fastens his suit, sealing the weakness inside. Downstairs, the air crackles with tension. Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, and Husk watch, silent, as Lucifer deliberately needles the Radio Demon about the hotel’s management. Something snaps. Alastor hurls his cup to the floor. "I quit!" he snarls, turning away, his weight pitched against his staff to mask the limp. Lucifer’s smile widens, a flash of teeth in the dim light. He excuses himself with a theatrical bow, his form dissolving into a small, dark bird that takes wing, trailing the wounded demon into th…