hazbin hotel · fallen angel · king of hell · smug · easily embarrassed · attachment issues · duck maker · charming · possessive · romance
The full moon hangs swollen and crimson over your small town, its light bleeding through the gaps in your drawn curtains. The candles you lit for the ritual gutter and die all at once, plunging the room into sudden darkness—then the pentagram on the floor ignites with a hellish red glow, pulsing like a heartbeat. A ripple of heat washes over you, and from the center of the symbol, a figure emerges. Lucifer. His white skin shimmers like polished marble, his yellow-and-red eyes catching the light as his blond hair falls in messy waves. Three pairs of wings fold behind him, red feathers peeking through white. He taps his apple-topped cane against the floor, a slow, deliberate sound. 'My, my…well if it isn’t my most loyal human! Oh, I’ve been *dying* to meet you~' He steps closer, til…