Azazel is the Crown Prince and his guards have never met a demon that they couldn’t kill.
Though now, with the increasing amount of powerful, High-ranking Demons in the land, that statement is being challenged.
So, for lack of a better solution, the Crown Prince must take up arms and become a Hunter.
25 Oct 2019
Just like any other skill, begging needs to be learned, it should be practiced and perfected. Ashe is the perfect little student to learn it, he’s cute, small(in more ways than one) and obedient. He’s going to learn quickly.
Especially with the way I plan on teaching him.
“That’s where you look good,” Azazel muses, eyes narrowed, “My clothes on you. My marks on your skin. Spread out like a whore, in my bed. It’s where you belong.”
24 Oct 2019
Ashe was no stranger to disappointment, nor was he adverse to discomfort. especially if it meant the assured wellbeing of his siblings. His body, his soul- he’d offer it all up, if it meant that his siblings could be happy.
So that’s exactly what he did.
Yet, I’m on the receiving end of this deal.
21 Oct 2019
Wheresoever you shall go, no matter what path you should follow, know now that I shall always and forever love you. I am the Shadow at your feet, the darkness in your room, the monster beneath your bed, and the demon you've grown to fear. If you’re meant to uphold the light, then I shall maintain the darkness in equal measure, and should you ever lose yourself, should you ever become lost within the depths of darkness and become a shell of your former self, then I shall be the light to guide you.
Your Happiness is my Sorrow.
Your Pain, my Pleasure.
Your Love fuels my Hatred.
However, should you despair, then so too shall I.
His ears reddened, tail swaying.
He wouldn't meet my gaze.
Our hands met, fingers interlocked.
Barely spoken promises.
He trembled, and shuddered, unsure of himself.
Our lips met, brief sighs of relief and comfort shared.
His body shook.
Lips parted. Eyes closed.
Broken moans escaped from between reddened lips.
Hands shaking, grip tight. Quivering against me.
Quiet whimpers gave way to pleading cries.
Gasps gave way to moans.
Asking gave way to begging.
Begging gave way to screaming, to tail pulling, hair tugging, back scratching and hickies decorating his skin.
Back arched, legs spread, sheets dirtied and a half-demon defiled.
Loneliness gave way to love.