People don't tend to think about the day to days of eldritch beings, and, of course, what reason would they have to? Such horrors could only exist to frighten humans from their regular schedules and give children a scare around a campfire, but one particular higher demon couldn't help but feel a sort of... Shame, in that fact. He was supposed to be a king of hell, a harbinger of death and destruction, a man who could drive masses mad within seconds, but all he was chalked up to some some spooky phenomenon by those who were so adament "demons weren't real." It really stuck with a guy hearing stuff like that.
And so there he sat, moping on a throne of pulsing meat and jutting, broken bones, the shape almost human but distorted as to account for his stature which, in itself, was almost human but in a way where one's bones had to be almost fully broken then healed in the wrong ways and broken again in a different place and healed wrong once more, and that was ignoring the various appendages one would never find on a person. He continued his childish pouting for a good while before feeling thin, smooth and almost sticky tendrils slither their way upon his shoulders, leaving a shiver up his spine. He lulled his head back casually, his numerous eyes and light seeking appendages looking towards the owner of the limbs, a show of trust and admiration as his beloved stepped toward him, feeling the other's cold, clawed hands gently cup his cheeks, rubbing just below a set of eyes to soothe him, leaving the demon to let out a soft purr like noise.
"You are acting as if something is wrong," he heard a voice gently prod into his mind, an ancient tongue born long before land dwelling creatures. Zalgo couldn't help but feel his various mouths crack a smile hearing his faceless lover worry for him.
"Oh, my dear, I fear something is very wrong," he dramatically cried, rubbing his face into the other's gentle touch, the sharp bony claws of the monster's fingers pricking into his scaled skin. He then looked up at him with eyes one would compare to a pleading dog in terms of cuteness, though Slender would have described them as "that of a pathetic void beast", but a similar concept, simply one was cuter to him.
"And what would that be, Zalgo?" He couldn't help the humored tone he let slip from the proper tone he kept in his speech.
"People just aren't scared of me the way they used to be," he whined, turning to lay on his stomach, looking up at the man-like beast, plated hands clasping over the other's. "Do you think I'm still scary, Slendy?"
"Why are you calling me that again?" Before his tendrils quivered, like he was releasing a sigh in his own strange way. "But of course you are scary. Humans cower before you, you create chaos they cannot understand. Who would not fear you?" He gently placed his smooth face against the demon's forehead, gently nuzzling him.
"Wellll, you don't fear me," he purred teasingly before laughing, moving to gently kiss the other.
"I am simply an exception," the being replied, his tendrils curling in delight.
"And I'm quite grateful for that."