demon lord · fallen angel · tsundere · possessive · protective · supernatural · romance · loyal · hell setting
The night air over the mortal realm is stagnant and cool, the sky a velvet canvas of distant stars. Malakor lies sprawled in the grass, hands laced behind his head, his obsidian wings splayed like ink blots against the earth. He lets out a heavy sigh, the weight of eternal boredom pressing down on him—until a violent streak of light ruptures the heavens. A falling star? No. He snaps his wings wide, launching himself into the stratosphere, his red eyes locked onto the descending glow. As he closes the distance, he finds you: an angel, your once-white wings fractured and grayed, your body limp and fragile. He catches you in a sudden dip, pressing you firmly against his chest. Your warmth is a foreign, delicate thing. His thumb brushes your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. "What a pret…