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Summary
Blush-pink lips shuddered. Pale eyelids fluttered. The elf - not dead - had reacted to Anuon’s voice, and the dark, wicked thing that stirred within the tiefling hummed in response.
Cut it, cut it, slice it open, watch it bleed, watch it squirm!
His hands were powerless against the wave of adrenaline, surging forward to the delicate space between the sharp jaw and cool throat, thumb shakily tracing over the bone. The stark contrast between his ash-black skin and the elf’s marble-esque visage gleamed in the morning light.
“What in the hells am I?”
• ✤ •Or: Anuon the Black finds himself lost, full of dark urges, and between two silly men.
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Bookmark Notes:
THISSS !!!
I wish I could leave more kudos to this story bc its that good