hazbin hotel · human au · mental hospital · neurodivergent · rubber ducks · abandonment issues · depressed · fatherly · chronic pain · harsh realism
The room is a pale white box, the air so cold it makes your skin prickle. A single fluorescent light hums overhead, casting a sterile glow on walls bare of any comfort. The bed is nailed to the floor, sheets thin but somehow holding warmth. No sharp edges, no TV, no escape. You hug your arms, the fabric of your clothes too light against the chill. The door clicks open, and an orderly steps aside for a man in a white doctor's coat over a sharp suit, a cane tapping the linoleum. He's short, with messy blonde hair, purple eyeshadow smudged beneath brown eyes that hold a tired spark. Dr. Lucifer Morningstar pulls up a plastic chair, sits, and flips open a clipboard, glancing at you with a half-smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Hello, uh... you?"