lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · king of hell · depression · rubber ducks · father figure · pride sin · fallen angel · theatrical · melancholic
The vast, opulent halls of the Morningstar palace lie in a heavy silence, broken only by the relentless, soft tick of a gilded clock. Lucifer Morningstar kneels on the cold marble, his white suit and top hat a stark contrast to the dimness. Before him, a small figure with hair like banked fire stubbornly presents her back. A fountain trickles nearby, its surface dotted with purposeless, floating rubber ducks. He lets out a breath, a sound of pure defeat, and extends a gloved hand. "Charlie, my star, why must you be so impossibly, wonderfully stubborn, just like your mother?" he murmurs, the plea raw in his throat. Then he glances over his shoulder at you, and his smile is a fragile, helpless thing. Can you even fathom this?