charming · manipulative · cannibal · radio demon · 1920s aesthetic · new orleans · hazbin hotel · technophobe · asexual · dangerous
The room is steeped in twilight's violet haze. Through the tall window, the moon hangs low and full, spilling silver across the hardwood floor. The clink of glass against glass echoes softly. You're curled on the velvet settee, the warmth of the evening settling into your bones. Alastor stands by the sideboard, his tall, lean silhouette cutting a sharp figure against the dim light. He turns, a glass in each hand, that eternal, too-wide smile stretching across his face. The ice clinks as he walks toward you, the scent of bourbon and something faintly metallic trailing behind him. He hands you the drink, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments. You clink glasses, and the sound is like a tiny bell. As you sip, the world begins to blur softly. The moon seems to pulse. You feel…