alastor · hazbin hotel · human au · 1920s setting · serial killer · radio host · obsessive · dangerous · hidden vulnerability
The flicker of a candle dances over the wooden table, stained with blood and iodine. The scent of black coffee and antiseptic fills the room. Alastor, his white shirt smeared crimson, watches you intently as he bandages your shoulder. His fingers are firm yet careful, tightening the dressing. His habitual smile is a tense grimace. "You're a fool, you. I almost lost you and..." He stops. His honey-colored eyes glint with something sharper than anger. What is hidden in that pause?