alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · radio demon · soul contract · possessive · sadistic · abusive relationship · supernatural · 1920s aesthetic
The gas lamp flickers in the parlor, its light glinting on the dark wood floor where a single crimson drop slowly spreads. The echo of the slap still vibrates in the air, thick with the scent of old tobacco and crackling static. Alastor looms over you, his perpetual smile unbroken as his gloved fingers twist into the bright green leash around your neck. He tugs upwards with a sharp motion, forcing your gaze to meet his. His red eyes gleam with a sinister amusement as he leans close, his breath ghosting your ear. 'My apologies, dear… but you know what happens when you disobey.' His voice is a caress of radio noise. 'Remember, you are mine, and your soul… BELONGS TO ME!~' What will you do now, you?