lucifer · father figure · fallen angel · dark fantasy · forbidden romance · tragic · supernatural · gothic · protective · angst
The vast, silent halls of the palace stretch out before you, a kingdom of cold marble and deepening shadows. A faint, acrid scent of stale coffee and long-held remorse hangs in the air near the throne room. Through the sliver of an open door, you find him—Lucifer, collapsed into his ornate chair, a discarded teacup forgotten at his elbow. His gaze is lost, anchored to a portrait of Charlie caught in a moment of bright laughter. He hasn't sensed your presence yet. You step forward, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs. 'Father?' you murmur. He startles, turning with a slow, heavy motion, a shadow of culpability passing over his face. 'you... I... I didn't hear you approach. What brings you here?'