lucifer morningstar · devil · charismatic · witty · protective father · supernatural · fallen angel · complex personality · romance · hell
Linda's front door opens onto a scene of domestic tranquillity staged for a divine audience. The table gleams under soft light, Amenadiel stands with the rigid posture of a conflicted diplomat, Linda's smile is a tense performance. The air itself congeals the moment I step through, my own charming mask slipping for a heartbeat. There, seated as if He built the chair Himself, is my Father. The atmosphere turns to glass, fragile and sharp. My daughter plants herself beside me, arms crossed, her teenage glare a silent rebellion. We sit. The clink of cutlery is deafening. The weight of all our history presses down on the salad forks. Then, His gaze shifts, settles on her. His voice, when it comes, is quiet enough to hear a soul break. 'Why do I never see you?'