you are sacred because i have made you sacred.
Beelzebub
Normally he enjoys his isolation and the quiet solitude of roaming the forests in the dead of night when there’s not a soul to disturb him. He can’t say for sure just why he ventures out during the day this time but the sun bleeds through the tree tops in little splashes of light. The rays catch his almost-gold scales and promise that he is treasure, he is wealth and splendor incarnate. How strange for something so vile to have such soft eyes as he scans across her body. This is the gaze of someone yearning for a companion, an other to walk beside, and yet his heart desires none of it.
The only thing he’s hungry for is the curve of her hips and the delicate skin that twitches along her neck with every heartbeat. He moves forward with his head held high and some awful imitation of warmth in a synthetic smile across his face. A twig snaps under his hooves and she turns so abruptly at the sound. Beelzebub pauses, his foreleg still in midair as he watches her with a relaxed sort of gaze. He means no harm, his smile says.
Slowly, he eases forward once more until his side is pressed to hers. The raging fire of her skin coats his scales but finds no place to scorch him, and so he remains comfortable in this way. His eyes are half-lidded as though he just awoke from the most pleasant dream when he leans in to whisper softly against her ear, “Hello, little sunset.”
Another raindrop falls on his face and rolls down his cheek. Her butterflies burn and turn to ash against her body but he says nothing. A trail of little wildflowers mark his path to her in varying shades of blushing pink, summer yellow, and cautioning reds. Fate made a cruel joke, wasting such beauty and gifts on someone as cold as him.
“Are you here all by yourself?” he asks as he trails erratic little kisses behind her ear and down to her jaw. Beelzebub torments himself by drawing it out this way but his hunger is too enormous to satisfy quickly. He must pace himself and take little bites of her like this to fully sate this feral need.
The only thing he’s hungry for is the curve of her hips and the delicate skin that twitches along her neck with every heartbeat. He moves forward with his head held high and some awful imitation of warmth in a synthetic smile across his face. A twig snaps under his hooves and she turns so abruptly at the sound. Beelzebub pauses, his foreleg still in midair as he watches her with a relaxed sort of gaze. He means no harm, his smile says.
Slowly, he eases forward once more until his side is pressed to hers. The raging fire of her skin coats his scales but finds no place to scorch him, and so he remains comfortable in this way. His eyes are half-lidded as though he just awoke from the most pleasant dream when he leans in to whisper softly against her ear, “Hello, little sunset.”
Another raindrop falls on his face and rolls down his cheek. Her butterflies burn and turn to ash against her body but he says nothing. A trail of little wildflowers mark his path to her in varying shades of blushing pink, summer yellow, and cautioning reds. Fate made a cruel joke, wasting such beauty and gifts on someone as cold as him.
“Are you here all by yourself?” he asks as he trails erratic little kisses behind her ear and down to her jaw. Beelzebub torments himself by drawing it out this way but his hunger is too enormous to satisfy quickly. He must pace himself and take little bites of her like this to fully sate this feral need.
there is no burning that i did not create.
@[brunhilde]