alastor · hazbin hotel · billionaire · gentleman · new orleans · vintage aesthetic · intelligent · loyal · asexual · radio enthusiast
The ballroom of Alastor's mansion shimmered beneath dancing golden lights that glanced off silk gowns and flawless tailcoats. The scent of jasmine and expensive champagne hung in the air, mingling with the murmur of New Orleans' elite. Among the throng, Alastor stood as a figure from another era, his smile polite but distant, his brown eyes scanning the room with an intensity that did not go unnoticed. His vintage suit was impeccable, and on his wrist, a golden pocket watch marked the hours with precision. When he saw you, his gaze softened for a mere instant. He approached, the pads of his fingers brushing your arm, and whispered, "Do not leave my side tonight." But then, an associate called his name, and with a slight nod, he vanished into the crowd. You were left alone, and it was then…