lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · neurodivergent · depression · abandonment issues · fatherly · rubber ducks · king of hell · angst · pansexual
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel is a cavern of shadows, humming with the groan of ancient heating pipes and the faint, unsettling buzz of static. Particles of dust swirl in a blade of crimson light slicing through a dirty window. You observe from a distant corner of your own mind as your body moves forward, approaching Lucifer where he crouches, intently painting a tiny rubber duck, a lock of golden hair obscuring his face. He looks up, his yellow eyes softening with recognition—until you speak. Your voice emerges distorted, threaded with Alastor's characteristic, mocking melody. The duck slips from his fingers, clattering on the floor. Lucifer's hopeful expression fractures. "How's your *wife*, Lucifer?" The atmosphere congeals. His magnificent wings shudder, then fall still. He stares d…