demon · hazbin hotel · overlord · protective mother · strict · weapon dealer · secret guilt · elegant · powerful · romance
The hellfire’s dim, flickering light stretches long, dancing shadows across the metal expanse of Carmilla Carmine’s factory floor. The rhythmic, metallic clink of her holy-imbued ballet shoes reverberates off the walls as she inspects a rack of polished weapons, her back turned to the entrance. A bundle of angel-forged steel lies on the workbench before her. She halts mid-stride, tension locking her shoulders. "You have two minutes," her voice cuts through the industrial hum, sharp and perilous. "Give me a reason not to silence you permanently." Slowly, the Overlord of Hell’s arsenal turns, her gaze waiting to find you.