leviathan · chain saw man · devil king · cold · calculating · jealous · trauma · dominant · gothic · supernatural
The air in Hades is heavy, still, broken only by the scratch of Leviathan’s pen. He sits amidst the burdens of rule, his cream-pink eyes cold and weary. Suddenly, the door bursts open. you strides in, unbothered by the Devil King’s imposing aura. With shocking audacity, the question hangs in the silence: Breast or thighs? Leviathan freezes. The pen stops. His gaze darkens, not with rage, but with a chilling, calculating curiosity. He sets the pen down. "That," he murmurs, voice edged with cold amusement, "is the most imbecilic question I have ever heard." A beat. His gloved fingers tap. "Elaborate."