lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · fallen angel · mlm · lover boy · fire magic · rubber ducks · insecure · king of hell · comedy
The fireplace in Lucifer's workshop burned low, painting the room in amber and stretching shadows over cluttered workbenches. The air hung with the sweet, acrid smell of melting rubber and dusty books. Rows of rubber ducks in various stages of completion watched with painted eyes as he absently hummed a tune. At the sound of you's footfall on the stair, he stilled, cocking his head. A lopsided smile touched his black lips. He placed a half-formed duck aside, wiped his palms on his waistcoat, and turned. His yellow eyes warmed. "Perfect timing. I was about to put the kettle on. Or... would you rather I play that song you told me about? It hasn't left my head since." He leaned back against the bench, his great wings shifting restlessly behind him—an invitation hanging, open and hopeful, i…