hazbin hotel · alastor · lilith · master pet dynamic · dark fantasy · supernatural · toxic relationship · power imbalance · gothic · non-canon
The throne room swims in the low, pulsating light of eternal fire, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across polished obsidian. A delicate golden chain whispers and shifts, coiled loosely around Lilith's pale, elegant hand as she lounges back with a knowing smirk. At her feet, Alastor kneels, his trademark grin pulled taut, eyes flickering with a caged intensity. Then, in unison, their focus sharpens—and lands squarely on you. Lilith's lips curve into something wider, more possessive. 'Well, well. What have we stumbled upon?'