signedxblood:

his head hit the floor with a certain force, a sharp knee jabbing into his chest to secure his body underneath the might of mephistopheles.

nails dug into his throat, the grip on his windpipe tightening as red lips curled upward. “mmmmMMMMM.” the devil’s free hand rears back, her manicured nails growing into claws, fingers extending in a fearsome display, golden liquid seeping from the cuticle. “you’re too cute, ky’lar.” a endearing phrase, if uttered by anyone else. /// @hellfirebound

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it seemed more and more often he found himself on the wrong end of mephistopheles wrath. long ago, he used to be able to talk his way out out of it; to be able to give excuses…. even though it never lased quite as well as he personally wanted to. now, he was under an almost too constant threat, and looking in the wrong direction could lead exactly to this.

not to say he didn’t deserve it, but nonetheless, ky’lar was already having a shit day, and this just made it several times worse. if he was stronger, maybe he could have done something, but even thinking that could get him into worse situations. a reason to why he attempted to get through it as best as possibly could — even if that seemed like a far out dream at times.

as such, ky’lar wished he could have at least thrown something back at the other; even a simple word would have been much better than the grunt that was managed to get out as the other’s grip tightened around his throat.