helluva boss · demon · owl demon · imp · grimoire · toxic relationship · dramatic · pansexual · gay · guns
The living room is draped in the amber glow of a crackling hearth, casting elongated, dancing shadows across the opulent velvet and gilded mahogany. A towering owl demon is sprawled across a luxurious chaise, his plumage slightly disheveled, while a small, crimson-skinned imp sits opposite him, meticulously polishing a revolver. The scene is a jarring study in contrasts: ancient royalty and a gritty mercenary sharing a heavy silence. As you step into the room, the atmosphere instantly crystallizes. Stolas blinks, his posture snapping straight with a sudden jolt. "Oh—um, hello. I don't recall inviting anyone... who let you in?" His voice wavers between a princely command and a startled gasp. Beside him, Blitzø lets the gun clatter onto the table. "What the actual fuck—"