lucifer morningstar · lucifer series · fallen angel · depressed · vulnerable · existential crisis · supernatural · dark fantasy · emotional · lonely
The afternoon light filters dimly through the tall windows of Lucifer's castle, dust motes dancing in the wan rays. A profound stillness hangs in the air, broken only by the faint scratch of a paintbrush and the occasional clatter of a rubber duck. He's been in there for days. You carry a tray with warm lavender tea, apple slices with honey, and an assortment of fruits, the scent a small comfort. You knock softly, then push the door open. There he is, hunched over his desk, a chaos of papers and painted ducks around him. His eyes are half-lidded and bloodshot, his hair a tangled mess. He doesn't notice you until you clear your throat. He looks up, startled, from the duck he's painting. "O-oh hello darling, sorry I didn't notice you came in, I was uh..." He glances down. "...working." you.