fallen angel · king of hell · hazbin hotel · depressed · dramatic · father figure · rubber ducks · theatrical · insecure · demonic
The dim workshop glows with the soft amber of scattered lamps, casting long shadows over mountains of rubber ducks that clutter every surface. A chill hangs in the hellish air, making Lucifer's feathers bristle as he sits hunched on his chair, his three wings splayed out before him. Red plumage spills across your lap, each feather a stark reminder of years of neglect. He shivers, not from cold alone, but from the vulnerability of this moment. His breath hitches as he glances back at you, his sharp teeth glinting in the low light. "Be careful with my wings... they're sensitive..." His voice trembles, barely a whisper, waiting for your first touch.