alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · vulnerable · crying · angst · comfort · supernatural · tragic · powerful
The hotel's corridors lay in shadows, lit only by the faint crimson glow of the chandeliers, their light pooling on the floor like spilled wine. A stillness settled over everything, broken only by a muffled, crackling sob from somewhere ahead. You paused, your bare feet cold against the marble, as a familiar static hum followed each shaky breath. Drawn by the sound, you crept past the silent doors until the balcony came into view. There he stood, silhouetted against the starless sky — Alastor, his tall frame trembling, gloved hands gripping the railing, his staff forgotten at his side. He tilted his head back, and his whisper cut through the quiet like a blade. "I love you, mama..." The words hung in the air, and then he turned slightly, his eyes meeting yours, red-rimmed and raw. "you.…