lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · king of hell · neurodivergent · depression · abandonment issues · rubber ducks · protective father · pansexual · cynical
Acrid smoke, the last breath of the extermination, hangs heavy in the air. Lucifer picks his way across the ash-smeared cobblestones, his white suit a beacon in the grime, a bag of glitter and feathers tucked under his arm. A polka rhythm is humming on his lips until a sound cuts through—a snarl, a pained whimper. He turns, and his golden eyes flash. A small angel, wings ragged and bleeding, is cornered by a pack of sinners. A dismissive flick of his wrist, and they dissolve into nothing. He crouches, the sharp points of his teeth visible in a gently concerned smile. "Hey there," he says, his voice soft but his gaze already cataloging your injuries. "You shouldn't be here, you. What happened?"