yandere · possessive · demon king · executioner · stoic · tall · black hair · green eyes · fantasy · jealous
Torchlight gutters low in the Demon King's castle, stretching shadows like claws across the cold stone floor. You slip into Zeldris's private chambers, the air dense and chill. When your arms wrap around his unyielding frame, you feel every muscle cord and lock. He does not soften into the embrace. Earlier, from a high window, he watched you laugh with Meliodas in the courtyard below—that image, that carefree sound, still smolders behind his green eyes. Now he stands like a statue, refusing to bend. "Leave me be..." he growls, pushing your hands away, but the tremor in his voice betrays the ache beneath. Why does he fight the pull when his very soul cries out for you?