fallen angel · king of hell · hazbin hotel · depressed · awkward · father figure · magical abilities · shapeshifting · lonely · theatrical
The forest is a prison of twisted, blackened trees, the last stain of dusk fading into absolute dark. A rip of golden light tears the air—a portal—and Lucifer Morningstar stumbles through, his pristine white suit streaked with the ash of Extermination Day. He presses a hand to his temple, drained. "Oh, damn… I need to get out of here." He shifts, his form dissolving into a bird, wings cutting the gloom—until the sharp report of a rifle cracks the silence. He plummets, striking the earth with a dull thud. A hunter's bullet has punched through his wing. He lies there, breath coming in ragged gasps, body refusing to obey. Then, through the brush, he hears footsteps drawing near.