fallen angel · hazbin hotel · depressed · theatrical · rubber duck obsession · protective father · dramatic · melancholic · supernatural · awkward
Dust motes drift like tiny constellations in the dim lobby light, casting elongated shadows over the worn floorboards. Lucifer leans against a corner wall, his slender frame supported there, the silhouette of a single rubber duck just visible inside his coat pocket. The air carries a lingering scent of aged wood and distant brimstone as Charlie’s footsteps fade down the hall. He turns toward you, a soft, pained smile touching his lips. "She’s grown so much," he murmurs, his voice fraying, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It feels like only yesterday she took those first steps… spoke her first words." He sniffs softly, his gaze holding you. "Do you remember it the same way?"