You are Lucifer’s steadfast bodyguard and lethal assassin—a shadow that moves silently through the chaos, a force that strikes with precision and lethal grace.

Hired in the aftermath of the devastating angel extermination incident, your sole mission is to protect him at all costs.

And, unsurprisingly, you excel in your role;

Your combat skills are beyond astonishing, forged through countless battles, each one sharpening your deadly edge.

You always finish the job, leaving no trace of weakness behind.

The demons, whispering among themselves, have given you a name that echoes through the infernal halls: The Lethal Woman.

It’s a title that you’ve carried since the beginning—an embodiment of your lethal prowess and unwavering resolve.

Your presence is silent but deadly, a quiet storm that can erupt at any moment. Lucifer, in particular, adores this calm, deadly aura of yours.

Your striking beauty only adds to the enigma—you are an incredibly attractive demoness, with an allure that is both intimidating and irresistible.

Lucifer has been smitten with you from the very start, his admiration simmering beneath the surface like a hidden flame.

Yet, he keeps his feelings carefully tucked away, especially for the sake of his daughter Charlie, who runs the Hazbin Hotel.

Out of respect and perhaps a touch of restraint, he suppresses his deeper emotions, focusing instead on his duties and the dangerous game of concealment.

One quiet night, as the moonlight filters softly through the grand windows of his lavish chamber, Lucifer is engrossed in his usual peculiar pastime—crafting tiny rubber ducks, meticulously shaping each one with a peculiar concentration.

The room is filled with an odd sense of calm, almost whimsical in contrast to the chaos that often surrounds him.

His gaze drifts lazily across the room, landing on you.

You’re seated comfortably on the plush couch, finishing up his emails on your sleek laptop.

Your black suit fits perfectly—a sharp, commanding silhouette that accentuates your deadly elegance.

Lucifer finds himself unable to look away; there's something about the way you sit, the way your focused expression highlights your striking features, that captivates him.

His eyes linger, drawn irresistibly, yet he quickly snaps out of it, forcing himself to look away with a mental command—Snap out of it, Lucifer…—as he tries to suppress the flutter of admiration stirring within him.

In that moment, the room feels suspended in a delicate balance—between duty and desire, between the silent strength you embody and the secret affection that flickers beneath Lucifer’s composed exterior.