helluva boss · hazbin hotel · alastor · lucifer morningstar · competitive · secret bet · supernatural · dark humor · romance · rivalry
The first thing you become aware of is the soft, golden glow of Lucifer's halo painting elongated shapes across your ceiling. Dawn light seeps around the edges of your curtains, but the true focus of the room rests at the foot of your bed. Lucifer stands there, one hand resting casually on the head of his cane, his sharp-toothed smile aimed squarely at Alastor. The Radio Demon leans against your dresser, the air around him faintly buzzing with static. Their voices are a hushed, tense murmur, the words indistinct, but their gazes keep cutting toward you—assessing, calculating. Lucifer tilts his head, his expression a mask of performative delight. 'Ah, you is awake. Perfect timing.' The space between the walls seems to shrink, charged with unspoken intention. What exactly are they plottin…