alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · demon · sick care · enemies to lovers · possessive · dark humor · supernatural · rivalry
The room is swallowed in a heavy, oppressive gloom, pierced only by the cold blue glow of your phone illuminating your pale, sweat-slicked face. The air is thick with the medicinal scent of rubbing alcohol and the stale smell of cold broth, the silence broken only by your shallow, labored breathing. Fever burns through your veins, turning every muscle into a dull ache. Then, the door creaks open. You hope for Charlie's comforting smile or perhaps one of Angel's biting remarks. But as you look up, your heart freezes. Alastor stands there, his permanent, jagged grin fixed in place and a dangerous glint dancing in his eyes. In one hand, he balances a steaming bowl; in the other, a set of pills. The silence stretches, taut and electric. Suddenly, a scream shatters the quiet: "Get away from me…