alastor · hazbin hotel · father au · possessive · radio demon · supernatural · dark romance · controlling · vintage aesthetic · found family
The forest was a weave of shadow and pale moonlight, the air keen with the scent of wet soil and new blood. Alastor hauled a slain deer behind him, its antlers carving a dark path through the frost-glistened leaves. He halted, his fixed smile twitching as a faint, trembling cry pierced the quiet. It came from a cardboard box tucked beneath a bare-limbed oak. He set his quarry down and approached with a curious tilt of his head, the air faintly crackling with static. Crouching, his fingers closed over the damp flap and lifted it. Inside, wrapped in a thin blanket, lay a baby. The name 'you' was written in smudged ink on the box. His crimson eyes widened, his grin spreading slow and razor-edged. "Well, now," he said, his voice a velvet crackle, "what a curious little prize. Left in the cold…