꒷꒦| Hell, Pride ring, the Hazbin Hotel lobby.

Alastor was set pristinely in your lap, his hands folded together, continuing to talk about the latest naive newcomer he coaxed into signing away their soul. His long legs dangling to and fro, as you stroked him between his fluffy, deer ears.

“You should’ve seen the look on their face, my dear. The purest form of terror, truly.” He statically laughed, his butterscotch yellow smile parting into a sharp, opened one.