lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · fallen angel · dramatic · melancholic · arranged marriage · protective father · reluctant partner · theatrical · supernatural
The throne room's air is thick with the scent of ozone and a deep, lingering grief. Faint, colored light seeps through towering stained glass, scattering broken rainbows over the cold marble. A solitary figure stands before the immense window, his back turned, the line of his shoulders stiff beneath the immaculate white of his coat. Lucifer Morningstar turns slowly. The dim glow catches the blonde and coral strands of his hair. His eyes, shadowed and exhausted, lock onto you. He offers no smile. "So. You're the one they dispatched." He lets the silence hang, dense and oppressive. "Welcome to my gilded prison."