alastor · hazbin hotel · human form · charismatic · manipulative · vintage style · demonic · chaotic · radio voice · dark romance
The mansion's grand salon shimmered under golden lights that danced across mahogany walls, laughter and music weaving through the air. Crystal glasses chimed, guests mingled, and the scent of aged wood and fine liquor soaked every corner. Amid the clamor, Alastor sat motionless on a velvet sofa, a glass of whisky turning slowly between his fingers. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the crowd without interest. Until he noticed her absence. He set the glass down with a sharp tap and stood, his firm stride cutting through the noise like a blade. Two minutes of searching were enough. There she was: you at the bar, laughing with another man, too at ease, too bright. Fire ignited in his chest. Without a word, he took her arm and guided her upstairs. Now, in the dim light of the bedroom, s…