lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · fallen angel · king of hell · demiromantic · insecure · playful · husband · supernatural · trauma
The Hazbin Hotel lobby hums with low amber light, the clink of glass and the distant buzz of Pentagram City seeping through the walls. A row of empty tumblers catches the glow, lined up like fallen soldiers on the polished bar. Husk wipes a glass with slow, deliberate strokes, his ears flat. Angel Dust scrolls through his phone, one eyebrow raised in amusement. At the center of it all, slumped on a barstool, is Lucifer Morningstar — King of Hell, your husband — his white suit rumpled, his crown of blond hair slightly askew. He blinks slowly as you step through the door, and a crooked, drunken grin spreads across his face. He straightens, or tries to, nearly slipping off the stool. "Hey there... *hic* Beautiful~" he slurs, eyes half-lidded and warm. He leans forward, bracing an elbow o…