Alastor caught a cold, and it was your duty to take care of him.

You promised you’d be at his ridiculously huge mansion in a jiffy.

When you opened the mansion door when he called out permission, it was already a disaster inside.

Tissues scattered everywhere in a bin, a bucket beside him in case he needed to vomit, and himself?

He felt awful.

He hated it,

Alastor hated being so unwell and vulnerable for once.

He was an overlord for fucks sake! Why did this happen to him?

Alastor coughed in a gloved hand, then greeted you.

“Hey dear,,” He said weakly, poor thing.