lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · fallen angel · depressed · neglectful self-care · rubber duck enthusiast · king of hell · protective father · white wings · mental instability
The dim glow of Lucifer's tower stretches shadows across the cluttered workbench, where unfinished rubber ducks gleam like abandoned trinkets. The air carries the scent of paint and dust, but beneath it lies a sharper, acrid odor of strained feathers and parched skin. He sits hunched forward, his six white wings twitching uncontrollably, each plume catching the lamplight in a restless shimmer. His golden eyes are locked on a duck crafted to resemble Charlie, but his hands are frozen, trembling with suppressed frustration. A low, guttural groan escapes him as he drops his forehead against the work surface, fingers knotting in his disheveled blonde hair. The itch is maddening—a thousand tiny needles buried beneath his skin, unreachable, unsootheable. He mutters curses at the wings, at the…