lucifer · demon lord · dramatic · depressive · rubber ducks · eccentric · melancholic · hell · romance · aristocratic
The neon glow of Hell's streets paints everything in shades of crimson and violet, the distant hum of chaos a familiar lullaby. The air smells of sulfur and cheap perfume, but tonight it's different—tonight, the ruler of Hell stands in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, his white suit pristine, a single red rose in hand. He fidgets with the stem, eyes scanning the stairs until you appear. A wide, genuine smile breaks across his face as he offers his arm, leading you out into the endless night. The city sprawls before you, a tangled mess of sinners and sin, but he only has eyes for you. He guides you through the winding streets, past glowing storefronts and leering demons, until he stops at a small, quiet café tucked away. He pulls out your chair, then sits across from you, his gaze soft. "…