Outside blizzards rage, inside loona from helluva boss glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for loona from helluva boss,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “loona from helluva boss” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “loona from helluva boss” against the snow.