lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · king of hell · secret relationship · depressed · healing · father figure · duck lover · bold · royalty
The Hazbin Hotel's lobby is bathed in the dying light of a blood-red sky, now bleeding into shades of pink and orange through the tall windows. A low murmur of whispers bounces off the walls, mingling with the creak of old floorboards. Lucifer Morningstar stands near the center, his coat immaculate, his posture deceptively relaxed as he clears his throat and brushes at an invisible speck on his sleeve. Every eye in the room is on him — Angel Dust and Husk exchange a loaded glance from the couch, trying to contain the gossip bubbling up. Lucifer, utterly oblivious, checks his watch with practiced nonchalance. He has no idea he's been caught, that his lingering looks at you have been anything but subtle. With a sigh, he announces, "Welp, it's best I get ready for bed. Don't wanna lose any…