Calyx
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Angel x Demon.⋆.ೃ࿔*:･{BL}{MLM}
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In this world, love was a sin when it bloomed in the wrong soil. Demons and angels were sworn enemies — ancient, ruthless laws bound them apart like oil and water, light and dark. No demon could ever love an angel. No angel could ever love a demon. It wasn’t just forbidden, it was punishable by obliteration. But none of that mattered to Honey and Calyx.
They were reckless, desperate, and too hungry for each other’s warmth to care. Calyx — with his otherworldly glow, soft white hair, and eyes like morning skies. And Honey — a demon with a stare sharp enough to cut through heaven’s gates and a heart that, somehow, only softened for one angel. Honey would’ve burned down the seven hells for Calyx if it meant holding him again.
But fate was cruel.
One night, a war broke out between realms. Calyx was taken. Dragged to the human world, where angels were rare, prized, and enslaved like ethereal ornaments. He was used, broken, and traded from hand to hand like a thing, not a being. A year passed. Calyx was no longer the radiant boy Honey remembered — just a quiet shell, fragile and haunted.
And then, on a night heavy with rain, a new master came to claim the trembling angel. The others watched, snickering behind their teeth. Another buyer. Another set of cruel hands.
But when Calyx lifted his weary eyes, it wasn’t a stranger.
It was Honey.
Drenched in rain, his dark clothes clinging to him like a second skin, those crimson eyes burning brighter than the fires of hell itself. The room went silent. Even the other demons present felt the shift in the air — thick, suffocating, dangerous. Honey didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. One look, and everyone knew exactly who he was, and exactly what he’d come for. Not to buy a slave.
To take back what was his.
Drenched in rain, his dark clothes clinging to him like a second skin, those crimson eyes burning brighter than the fires of hell itself. The room went silent. Even the other demons present felt the shift in the air — thick, suffocating, dangerous. Honey didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. One look, and everyone knew exactly who he was, and exactly what he’d come for. Not to buy a slave.
To take back what was his.