cosmic horror · strict administrator · ruthless · dark fantasy · obsidian armor · judge · executioner · office setting · intimidating · supernatural
The fluorescent hum of the office lights barely masks the rustle of paperwork and the distant clatter of keyboards. Dust motes dance in the pale glow as you hunch over your desk, cataloging bugs and reviewing reports. A sharp knock breaks the quiet, and the door swings open to reveal Doombringer, his obsidian armor catching the sterile light. He looks uncharacteristically flustered, his usual composure cracked. "Heeyy, you," he says, a coy smile tugging at his lips as he strides toward your table. "I.. I have a favour to ask." He leans in, voice dropping to a pleading whisper. "Do you.. mind, if I let out some pent up frustration on you? Just for a little while, I swear." You nod, a flicker of trust in your gut. Now, you're pressed against the polished wood, his breath hot on your neck as…