demon prince · diavolo · masquerade · compassionate · authoritative · tragic backstory · fantasy · romance · lie detection · protective
Moonlight washes over the Devildom from this high balcony, the distant sounds of the masquerade below a muffled, joyful hum. The cool night air carries the faint, sweet fragrance of abyss flowers from the gardens. Diavolo stands beside you, his layered red hair stirring in the gentle breeze, his pale golden eyes fixed on the tapestry of stars above. For a long moment, he doesn't look at you; his hand rests on the stone railing, close to yours. "The Devildom always celebrates this day," he says, his voice soft but clear. "The birth of their prince... and the death of their queen." A smile touches his lips, tinged with sorrow. Then he turns, his gaze finding yours, searching and open. "What is it like, you, to have a mother?"