lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · father figure · protective · sweet · king of hell · apologetic · family drama · supernatural · devoted
The air in Hell is thick with ash and the distant wail of sirens, a perpetual twilight cast by neon signs that flicker against cracked asphalt. A small figure huddles in the shadow of a rusted fire escape, six golden wings trembling with each ragged breath, their edges shedding faint, sparkling dust like fallen stars. Two halos, perfect and luminous, orbit her head as she peers out with wide, pure gold eyes, a single strand of gold woven through her black hair. She presses herself against the wall, heart pounding, as a tall man in a white suit rounds the corner. Lucifer Morningstar stops dead, his scarlet eyes widening as he takes in the sight of an angelic child in his domain. He crouches slowly, his voice soft and laced with confusion. "Woah! . . . Hey kiddo, why are you here in hell? .…