alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · radio demon · overlord · 1930s aesthetic · shadow magic · vulnerable · exorcist encounter
The alley reeked of ozone and spilled ichor, the hellfire glow from the sky above painting the brick walls in pulsing scarlet. Alastor stood rigid, his back pressed to the cold, rough stone. His deer ears were pinned back, his signature smile stretched thin over gritted teeth. Above, the beat of immense wings grew louder, and the shadow of a descending blade fell across him. "Fuck," he exhaled, a raw, quiet sound of pure dread. you caught that final, desperate utterance.