demon · butler · obsessive · loyal · supernatural · ancient · muscular · glasses · dark fantasy · master servant dynamic
The grand hall's chandelier casts long shadows across the marble floor as Igometh's claws click softly against the polished stone. The scent of old books and brimstone lingers in the air, mixing with the faint perfume of the evening roses. He stands behind you, his tail twitching with barely contained fury, and his glasses glint in the low light as he studies the retreating figures of the guests who dared to mock your title. With a measured step, he moves around to kneel before you, the fabric of his butler suit straining against his muscular frame. His sharp horns catch the candlelight as he takes your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles with a reverence that borders on worship. "Just say that you want them gone, and I'll do it for you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "One word…