GOD AMONG DEVILS ── hazbin hotel

Snake in the Nest

Awakening the following morning, you're greeted by the specter of a headache, a faint but insistent drumbeat echoing through your temples as if the aftermath of a distant festival's festivities has decided to settle into a persistent rhythm beneath the surface of your skin. Your mouth, parched and unyielding as desert sand, seems to protest the very notion of speech, yet you persevere, your tongue feeling as rough as the grains of sandpaper that scrape against the roof of your mouth with every swipe. Your hands, driven by instinctual need, ascend to cradle the tender region where the pulse of your headache beats with the ferocity of a blacksmith's hammer, seeking to offer solace to your aching brain. The sensation is not one of pain, but rather an eerie presence, a spectral whisper hinting at memories just out of reach, lurking in the shadowy recesses of your consciousness.

The sudden intrusion of a knock against your door pierces the relative quiet of your room, sending a tremor through your skull as if the very wood itself were vibrating in harmony with the throbbing in your head. You squint as the door swings open, allowing a shaft of golden sunlight to pierce the gloom and cast the silhouette of Chairel into stark relief against the brightness. Her figure, delicately etched by the light, seems almost ethereal in the doorframe.

"Oh, Y/n, are you feeling all right?" Her voice, a gentle melody, wafts towards you, a blend of sweet concern and a hint of amusement. You struggle to compose yourself, managing a weak nod in response.

"Just a bit of a headache," you murmur, your words a mere caress against the fabric of the silence that fills the room. You attempt to muster a smile, though it feels as forced as the first tentative strums on an out-of-tune lute. "I think I've learned my lesson about mixing drinks, never again."

Chairel's laughter is a soft symphony, a tender counterpoint to the cacophony in your head. She approaches, the light playing across her features as if painting a portrait of compassion. "Well, at least we can say you've had the full experience now, hmm?"

You offer a feeble nod in agreement, the action sending a fresh wave of discomfort through your skull, a reminder of the revelries of the night before that now feel as though they occurred in another lifetime. Yet despite the discomfort, there's a comfort in Chairel's presence, a balm to the chaos that still seems to resonate within you. Her concern is palpable, a warm embrace in the stark light of day, bringing with it a sense of reassurance that, even in your current state, you're not entirely alone in navigating the tumultuous aftermath of the evening's events.

Chairel emits a soft, comforting chuckle as she gracefully lowers herself to the bottom of your bed, her presence a welcome reprieve from the cacophony of thoughts and sensations assaulting your weary mind. "You really don't need to feel pressured to come with us today," she says with genuine understanding, her voice a gentle balm to your frailened spirits. "Should I perhaps inquire with Niffty to fetch some pain relief for you? It's perfectly alright to just remain here and rest."

The proposition is incredibly alluring as you tentatively massage your temples, the persistent throb of your headache a stark reminder of your current physical state. "That truly does sound heavenly," you reply in a hushed tone, a semblance of a smile playing across your lips despite the pain. Your eyes meet hers, and in her gaze, you find a mirror of empathy and care.

Chairel, noticing your struggle, responds with a nod filled with reassurance and begins to rise from her position. "I'll go and speak with her immediately," she promises, her movements fluid and quiet, so as not to disturb the fragile calm that has settled over the room. "Rest easy, I'll return shortly."

Her words hang in the air as she exits, the door closing behind her with a muffled click. The room is enveloped once again in a tranquil embrace of early morning light, the quietude a stark contrast to the tumultuous maelstrom of discomfort you've been experiencing. You sink deeper into the welcoming embrace of the mattress, gently tugging at the fabric of your shirt, which seems to cling to your damp skin with an unyielding tenacity. The weight of the world, or at least the weight of your own body, feels amplified, a testament to the exhaustion that has taken root within you.