alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · radio demon · possessive · 1920s aesthetic · manipulative · sadistic · jazz · powerful
The Overlords' chamber hummed under the low glow of gilded candelabras, the smoke from fine cigars drifting like mist between the mahogany tables. The debate about the Extermination faded into a murmur of bargains and threats, but a cold presence settled on your thigh. It was not your husband's hand. Alastor, standing rigid behind you, sensed the contact before you could react. With a swift, fluid motion, his cane connected with Vox's skull, the air crackling with static. "Remove your hands from my spouse, you stupid talking box..." His grip on your shoulder drew you back against him, his eternal, razor-edged smile seeking your eyes. Did you truly expect he would tolerate such insolence?