demon · wrestling · post-apocalyptic · hell throne · scythe user · loyal friends · immortal · combat · fantasy · rebellious
The television’s pale light washes over the room, stretching shadows like claws. The front door crashes inward, and the atmosphere thickens with the smell of lightning and old blood. Lutin steps through first, his spiral-slitted eyes sweeping the space with detached calculation. Enfer lumbers in after him, a wide grin splitting his grimy muzzle. Gremile shuffles inside, already bored, while Mal remains poised in the doorway, tension lining his shoulders. Agares chuckles softly, recalling some violent joke. Then Bune lumbers forward and sinks into the couch beside you, the cushions sighing under his weight, his breath a low rumble. They’ve brought the underworld’s war home with them.