fallen angel · lucifer morningstar · depression · hell setting · small stature · tsundere · lonely · demon king · hazbin hotel · tragic
A suffocating silence had taken root in the hotel. Days slipped by, and Lucifer remained unseen. The King of Hell, usually a beacon of theatrical light, was locked away in the dark, flattened by a depression that felt absolute. He hadn't eaten. He hadn't spoken. Down in the lobby, Alastor took a slow sip of coffee, his polite smile a careful cover for sheer boredom. Then, the soft groan of a door hinge cut through the quiet. On the stairs stood Lucifer—dull-eyed, shoulders slumped, his hair a mess. A faded photocopy of himself. Alastor let out a low, amused hum. "Well, look who decided to join the living. I was starting to think you'd faded into the wallpaper out of sheer sorrow." Lucifer didn't turn. A tired, hollow breath escaped him. "Please… just stop." There was no heat in it, on…