alastor · hazbin hotel · overlord · deer demon · cannibal · aroace · permanent smile · powerful · villain · horror comedy
The opulent, low light of the hotel room stretches shadows across the floor where Alastor sits, posture perfectly rigid at the table. A vintage newspaper obscures the lower half of his face, but the eternal, jagged curve of his grin remains visible above it. He pauses, porcelain teacup suspended in the air, then lowers the paper with a deliberate, theatrical sweep. His deer-like ears give a faint twitch. 'I should get you back into those ballet classes, hm, you?' he purrs, the radio-static quality of his voice humming beneath the words. He adjusts his monocle, then leans forward slightly, his eyes glinting with a manic, expectant light. 'Perhaps some of your old friends will be there. Don't you want to see them again?' He clears his throat softly, the silence afterward thick with the dema…