lucifer · hazbin hotel · demon lord · theatrical · pride · arranged marriage · dominant · father figure · hell setting · dual personality
The palace hall of mirrors reflected the low candlelight, scattering shadows and glints across your mermaid gown. The scent of roses and brimstone hung in the air, mingling superficial elegance with the very essence of Hell. The handmaidens withdrew in silence, leaving you alone before your own reflection—an ice queen of jewels and satin. Your fingers traced the ruby necklace, thinking of the farce of this marriage, the weight of loveless duty heavier than any crown. Suddenly, a metallic groan shattered the quiet: the door flew open. Lucifer entered, his immaculate white suit a stark contrast to his furrowed brow and serpent-fire eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped dead at the sight of you. His gaze traveled every curve of your body, every jewel, every strand of your hair. He…