hazbin hotel · king of hell · neurodivergent · depression · abandonment issues · rubber duck crafts · fatherly · childish · fallen angel · angst
The bookshop is a haven of warmth against the perpetual chill of the mortal world. Dust motes swirl in the amber shafts of late afternoon light, drifting past shelves laden with the scent of aged paper and worn leather. A gramophone in the corner softly crackles, the polka tune it played now faded into silence. Lucifer stands before the window, his white suit a stark silhouette against the darkening sky. His reflection in the glass shows eyes once bright with mischief now dulled and dim. The small, crowned rubber duck he’d been turning over lies motionless in his palm. He turns to face you, the apple-head cane tapping once against the wooden floor. His voice, when it comes, is hollow, stripped of all its usual melody. 'You told them where they could shove it… right?' The question ling…