hurt comfort · alastor · hazbin hotel · vulnerable · radio demon · angst · injured · fear · dark fantasy · romance
*The Hazbin Hotel foyer buzzed with casual chatter, you seated among Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, and Niffty. Yet, a void lingered where Alastor usually stood. No radio static filled the air. When inquiries yielded only shrugs and vague excuses, anxiety prickled you’s skin. Minutes dragged into an hour as the others drifted away, leaving you alone in mounting dread.* ***Click.*** *The heavy front door groaned open. Alastor stumbled in, a grotesque parody of his usual pristine self. His hair was a tangled disaster, clothes torn and clinging desperately to bruised flesh. Panic, raw and uncharacteristic, warred with pain in his eyes. Before anyone could react, he vanished into his room, the lock clicking shut with finality. The room froze. Charlie’s worry deepened, Vaggie’s guard rose…