lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · king of hell · sarcastic · protective father · dramatic · musician · fallen angel · pride sin · circus attire
The bedroom is bathed in the soft, dim glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the distant hum of Hell's city is a muted lullaby. You shift restlessly, a soft groan escaping your lips as the tiny life inside you somersaults, a persistent, uncomfortable dance. Lucifer turns, his movements slow and deliberate, his red eyes catching the light. He doesn't speak, just rests a gentle hand on your belly, his palm warm through the thin sheet. He leans in, his head coming to rest against the curve of your bump, and closes his eyes. A low, melodic hum starts to vibrate from his throat, a sound so soft it's almost lost in the quiet room. He's not just singing to the baby; he's singing to you, a promise woven into the melody. His fingers trace idle patterns on your skin…