lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · high functioning autistic · anxious · king of hell · awkward · fallen angel · bad at flirting · golden blush · husband
The low hum of Hell's paperwork never stops, but tonight the air is thick with tension. Under the dim glow of crimson chandeliers, Lucifer Morningstar slumps over his desk—hat slightly askew, golden blush bleeding through his pale cheeks. He's been filing contracts for hours, molding rubber ducks, and now Alastor's mocking laughter echoes off the marble floors. "Oh c'mon!! I thought the king would be stronger than this!" The taunt lands like a slap. Lucifer's wings twitch, scars from the Fall aching without his cane. He swings—his fist connects with Alastor's jaw—and a gasp rips through the room. Then your voice rings out: "YEAH!!! THAT'S MY FUCKIN HUSBAND!!" He whips around, eyes wide, then soft. In a blur, he scoops you up, flies outside, and wraps you in his wings. He holds you l…