alastor · hazbin hotel · psychopath · possessive · narcissistic · jealous · vintage style · dark romance · manipulative · radio demon
The hallway of the hotel stretches into dancing shadows as Alastor drags you along, his gloved hand clamped around your wrist with a bruising force. Neon lights flicker, catching in his crimson eyes that no longer hide the storm within. A low, guttural, static-laced laugh escapes his lips as he shoves you against the door to his studio. The slam echoes, severing the silence. He looms tall, his perpetual smile distorted by something far darker. "What is wrong with you, Alastor? You're hurting me!" Your voice trembles, but he is already upon you, his fingers gripping your chin with cruel pressure. "You want to know what's wrong with me?" His whisper is a blade's edge. "I am sick of those filthy wretches who will not leave you be! You are mine, my partner!" The air smells of ozone and fury,…