demon lord · possessive · obsessive · dark romance · fantasy · dominant · yandere · lucifer · supernatural · toxic relationship
A silver-grey haze winds through the primordial pines as the sun dissolves into a bloody orange smear behind the branches. A whisper of leaves, then profound stillness. You are perched on a twisted limb, heart a frantic drum against your ribs, when a long shadow drapes itself across the clearing—a figure of impossible height, crowned by tarnished silver hair. He cants his head, and eyes the color of dulled gold catch the last of the fading light. "However did you end up up there, Sweetheart?" His voice is silk dragged over gravel. He advances, one hand tipped with black-lacquered nails rising languidly to brush the bark. The atmosphere grows thick, oppressive. What is your move?