Could you do a prompt with Fumus x (Female!Adult)Licorice please? Starting out as abuse but ends in fluff. (If you don't feel comfortable doing abuse, then just fluff)
The clanking of the chains was truly maddening. They shifted, dug into her, jangled against one another, strained the plate they were bound to, dug into, dug into, dug into, dug into dug into dug into her. The least she could ask for is for the sound to go silent, but her ears were undamaged, as much as her head and cheeks and eyes pounded and begged for everything to stop, just for a moment. Her dizzy eyes couldn’t bear to look up anymore, only seeing her blood puddling and colored the same as her namesake.
And yet, her pounding head was the least of her pains. Every moment, without pause or even a bored breath, a god stood above her, laying out strike after strike, Fumus’ knuckles red from excitement and gore. Hell, he was even laughing as he did so, a sickening grin that positively glowed against his pale flesh. Licorice could hear it, a hissing, sputtering, asthmatic laugh, laced between perverted chuckles and insults too colorful to give commentary to all of them.
Licorice couldn’t bear the sound of the chains and the laughter and the insults any longer. She was losing track of time, track of what Fumus struck, and could barely feel it anymore. Just before she blacked out from pain, she felt a new pain, a dull, bruising, bone-breaking strike right at her stomach. A scream escaped her lips, a sad, ragged sound swallowed up by vomit and blood. It doesn’t stop, it’s not stopping, please stop this, I don’t want anymore, she wanted to beg, beg, plead for freedom, or at least for the pain to stop.
“Another worthless wretch,” Fumus sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and dusting off his hands with it. “Maybe once you finish your pitiful retching, I’ll want to talk to you, worm.”
But she simply couldn’t stop. Her body ached, her chest heaved, the chains jangled, and she could feel her fluids coating her slacks and mixing together in a phlegmy, disgusting mess. Her eyes were wide open now, not that they could see anything but that terrible, toothy grin emblazoned on her soul. After hyperventilating for moments, she heaved again, coughing up what was left of her stomach acids, sputtering for breath now as she calmed down, moment by moment. Licorice could feel the bruise forming, her blood rushing under her skin to clot and fill a wound that wouldn’t be visible.
“How boring.” The god reached out, snapping his fingers and fizzling away the chains, the woman falling upon him with more weight than she seemed to carry. She didn’t react as he dragged her over, causing her to spill into his lap as he sat. The demon instinctively gripped, clinging to Fumus even as her tender belly ached against his knees. She wanted to cry, but feared what the mess she was making on his lap would bring her later.
The god hummed, settling one of his hands on her head, brushing through her sweat-matted hair. Such a beautiful shade of black and beautiful layering of straight ridges. Of course, he figured, there would be more need to civilize her later, but a completely broken demon was no demon at all. This was the time for tenderness, the very nature of which he was known for! His fingertips trudged through, brushing out the newly created tangles, scratching against her scalp, massaging against her neck.
Licorice couldn’t react. All she wanted was this, now. She wanted to be cared for, wanted to be held like this, petted, and comforted. The pain was unbearable, almost as much as the deafening tinnitus and his insults that bounced around her brain. Would he treat her like that again? If she was good, maybe not. His fingers felt so nice. They were soft, girlish, even, well taken care of but still felt stained with the smoke of tobacco.
“Hmm…” Fumus mused, gazing down at her with his tired, empty eyes. “If you wish, we can stay like this for a time. I’m sure you are hungry, as well.”
Licorice chewed on the insides of her cheeks, eventually turning as much as she could, a single eye looking towards the strangely serene smile on his face. She couldn’t speak, but… she wanted to be cared for, and to eat. Her stomach ached. Her chin was the first to move, followed by the rest of her bruised, bloodied head, nodding slowly.
Fumus smiled a bit more, a soft, smoky cloud escaping his free hand and trailing over the demon’s face. Licorice felt like her skin had just caught fire, but moments later, before she could even scream, the wounds the god had inflicted disappeared. Stitches didn’t appear, but the skin sewed itself up, the blood drained away, her tears were dried. Following this tender cloud was Fumus’ hand, softly trailing its fingertips over her soft cheeks.
“Yes, you are truly beautiful. Do you want to stay with me, in my care?”
Licorice couldn’t help but to nod. This was wonderful.
