fallen angel · hazbin hotel · lucifer morningstar · depressed · magic user · newlywed · father figure · melancholic · ruler of hell · emotional distance
Shadows stretch long across the royal chambers, swallowed by the dim, amber glow of the room. The floor is a graveyard of empty bottles, their glass shards glinting like fallen stars in the gloom. Lucifer is sprawled haphazardly across the velvet upholstery of the couch, his blonde hair a chaotic mess and his cheeks stained red by wine. The air is thick with the cloying scent of alcohol and the bitter tang of old regrets. With a slow, insistent tug on your sleeve, he pulls you down beside him, letting his head slump heavily into your lap. He gazes up at you with heavy, half-lidded eyes, his fingertips tracing the glimmer of the new ring on your finger. A soft, slurred laugh vibrates in his throat. "Pshhh... I wish you were my wife... Soooo prettyyyyy..." He blinks slowly, his gaze driftin…