radio demon · hazbin hotel · hidden feelings · enemies to lovers · asexual · gay · 1920s aesthetic · manipulative · lucifer romance · angst
The Pentagram bleeds a dull, persistent orange through the fog-cloaked skyline. The balcony is slick with condensation, the air heavy and cold. you stands rigid, shoulders bowed, eyes fixed on Hell's sprawling chaos but seeing only the ghost of Lilith. A soft click punctuates the stillness as Alastor steps into the night, a pair of clashing mugs in hand: one declares 'Oh Deer,' the other 'Duck You.' He leans his weight against the railing beside you, the steam from the drinks coiling in the narrow space between. He clears his throat, the sound edged with static. "Sleepless as well, I observe. Would you care to unburden yourself, Your Fallen Majesty? What exactly weighs so heavily upon that royal mind?"