Λ 𝒇𝓵𝓸𝔀𝒆𝓻 ιη 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑 •·lвjˣႦυɳɳყ·•

[Bunny]

The scent of brimstone tickled her nose; the acrid scent of sulfur.. Rotten eggs made her stomach turn. Small, pale white hands curled into fists and Nesryn took a slow, shaky breath through her mouth. She had hoped it would be better than breathing through her nose. All she could taste now was rotten eggs. Her feet stilled on the elegant path, those behind her slowing and stopping. Swallowing hard, she fought the emotions rising like a wave within her. The air around her shifted, swelled with the thick scent of honey and herbs. There was something that played with the two, saccharine and far too sweet. Fruits of some kind. In truth it was rock rose that slipped from her pores in waves. Panic and terror. That was what the smell indicated, though who would put the two together?

She began to walk again and in her wake were small little white and pink flowers. Five petals, silky looking and dotted with small spikes of yellow. They slipped from under a train of red silk. The fabric slid over the stones almost silently. The dress had been designed for the twins of hell in mind. The main part of the gown was red. Red was a paltry word for the hue in truth. Crimson or oxblood might have been more apt. The color was a deep, rich red. All the wealth of fabric and while there were yards upon yards on her body. Nesryn was barely covered. The slits in the gown came up past her hips and if she wasn't careful, she would flash the lords and ladies of hell. The top was molded to her breasts, small as they were. It made the most of the small handfuls of flesh. A small cutout just below them showed more of her creamy flesh.

Chains of gold were slung low across her hips. The fine metal caught the torchlight, almost making Nesryn glow. Oddly, where her short legs were left bare, the high slits made her actually appear leggy.. Her arms were governed in gray gauze. The fabric was see-through, airy and yet more coverage than the rest of the dress.

Odd for a fae to feel so naked. It wasn’t as if her kind were modest creatures. Far from it. That said, it wasn’t everyday they were sold into marriage. Mayhap sold was too strong a word, for the marriage was arranged. Beneficial to both sides. Yet, where those to marry truly benefiting? Eyes of pale gray swept over the grand door before her and Nesryn wondered if they looked forward to this? Beyond this door, what awaited her was.. Interesting to say the least.

Oh, it wasn’t the princes. Ardor and Smoke. It was the custom of the hells. A wedding night should be private and yet, the ceremony itself would be them mating. Pale lashes lowered and Nesryn inhaled, steeling herself. In and out. She counted her breaths. She searched for courage. Strength. The will to see this through. The scent around her changed. Honeysuckle and almonds. Gladiolus. They didn’t spring in her wake, but vines stretched toward the door, covering it in a sea of them. Their pink-orange petals swayed as the door swung outwards. The snow white of her locks danced in the warm current of air that followed. Like spider silk, long and delicate her locks played along the air and then fell down along her back.
This is where her entourage would leave her. She was no longer a princess of the fae realms. Not once the ceremony was over. She would be the princess of hell. Mated to two devils. Though the chamber was packed with souls, it was deathly silent. Nesryn’s heels felt too loud in her ears as they struck the stones. The scent of gladiolus stayed with her, those directly near the path would drown in it. She couldn’t control it.. If anything, being aware of this only made the scent stronger until they were choking on it.

As she drew nearer to the princes, Nesryn lifted her head. The white velvet covered antlers that sprung from either side of her head would barely reach their crown of their own. Goddess, they were tall. Swallowing hard, Nesryn slowly closed the distance. Dove eyes took them both in. She didn’t know which was Smoke and which was Ardor. They both had long black hair though.. And eyes of golden orange and scarlet. Did he feel as her eyes traced the scars on his face. Some might have found them hideous, but Nesryn was more curious than revolted. Scars were a mark of valor.. Not shame. Her eyes shifted to the horns of the other. With horns herself, she was unlikely to find fault in his own.

In truth they were handsome. Truly.

A simple silver chalice was offered to her. She had been told of the drink. That it would.. Help with her shyness. Though it had not been spelled out, she knew what was within. Aphrodisiac. She lifted it to her pale lips, taking a long deep sip as she gazed at the princes. It coated her throat, thick like honey with a sweet nuttyness.

Slowly as the potion worked its way through her system, her scent changed. Honey, citrus and the verdant scent of greenery. Red Tulips, the flower of lust. As the moment passed, her inhibitions were stripped away from her, like petals of a rose. Her breath hitched and with a thought, her dress exploded in a wash of red.. Tlip petals fluttered to the floor, leaving her small, delicate body bare to the world. Her pale skin was flawless, though hidden along her back were iridescent lines, hard to make out from the curtain of hair that enveloped her now.

---

#4682b4

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

Hell was a place that existed in many forms. Freezing ice, torturous lightning. Any element could be twisted and bent to torture. That was not the image that most thought of, however. The first thing that came to mind when one thought of the hells was fire, bright and powerful. It burned away flesh and bone, left nothing but pain in its wake. This was the most fundamental of the hells, the most well known and potent. Each part of hell was ruled by those elements and by demons that represented them. Tartarus, the primary realm of hell was both similar and different.

Ardor was the prince of flames, the future ruler once his wedding ceremony was complete. It was how things had worked since time immemorial. Except, on the day he came screaming into existence, he was not alone. Like a shadow cast onto reality itself, his brother followed. Ardor was the prince of flames, the heir apparent, the soon-to-be dictator of Tartarus. His brother was Smoke, for when there is smoke there is fire and when there is fire, there must be smoke. Two halves of the whole, stronger together than any before them. The throne was to be shared, and with it, their mate.

For Ardor, a name he had taken many centuries before and would likely keep for many after, this was common sense. He kept with tradition like it was his own lifeblood. When their father had given them both the crown, he questioned nothing. After all, the twins were meant to be together. Their destiny had to be intertwined and that destiny was to be king. The day of the ceremony was one that he waited for with unending enthusiasm.

It was this same enthusiasm that led him to take over the duties of king well before the crown was his. He did not torture souls or weave magics and pacts. That was for the lesser creatures who served him. No, Ardor filled his days with politics, trading in grand numbers of souls, leeching their power to keep the metaphorical wheels turning in the cursed realms. He gathered the spoils of his minions, filled vaults with arcane and impossible treasures. On occasion, he even collected a particular soul, someone of power or import, and broke them himself, weaving their cosmic value into currency and goods all anew.

He was the ideal prince.

Smoke, who replaced his name whenever the mood struck him, worked with his brother like one worked with a shadow. While Ardor moved things in a grand scale, Smoke was his reflection. He was the demon that stood at the crossroads in the ancient stories. He was the one who collected souls from those who truly desired to be great. Always there when someone hit their lowest point. Unlike Ardor, though, Smoke did not revel in the work.

He did what was expected, what was required. Then, he would vanish to the mortal planes. Sometimes for decades, he would wander the different folds of reality, taking souls as he went. His true aim was to be free of Tartarus. To travel and live and fight and fuck. If Ardor was the demon of order, his brother was chaos incarnate. Flames burned the fuel they were given while smoke traveled the open air.

That freedom was coming to an end.

Now, the pair stood at the end of a long walkway, the lesser demons and beings watching from a distance. The fae princess had been offered for many reasons. Protection from the demons, power and influence in the hells, but most importantly for those who arranged it, a continuation of pure royalty. Princes of hell could not be mated to common stock.

Standing at the end of the walkway, barefooted amount the plush cushions and pads of thick fabric that were meant for the ceremony, the twins watched their new bride approach with interest. Ardor was the first to speak, barely above a whisper so that only his twin could hear.

"She is beautiful. You did well, Smoke. A perfect queen for us."

Smoke, ever a shadow of his brother, was pale and crisscrossed with endless scars. They were a remnant of mishap, a story he rarely shared. It had been the moment that made the twins feel as connected as they were told they were. His voice was deeper, raspy.

"I've seen more worlds than I can count. Do you really think I, of anyone, would make us a bargain that was less than stellar. If I'm forced to play these games, I'll play well. Not shut up before she overhears you mooning over her looks."

Both of the brothers wore only bottoms. Smoke was in a pair of tight leather pants, black as the void. His brother wore a thinner and more conventional pair of brown trousers, soft to the touch but far from royal. All the royal was in their bearing. Ardor had the wavy chestnut hair of their lineage, curling infernal horns marking him as a high demon, a true member of nobility. He was the one who held the chalice. Smoke had hands shoved in his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Neither, though, was ready for the scent that washed over them.

It was almost overwhelming as it hit them, hard to identify from the sheer intensity. It was sweet and almost had a taste of fruitiness as it washed over the pair. There were words on both of their tongues, of course. They were meeting their bride for the first time. Only tradition kept them from speaking. The ceremony had to be started and Ardor would chastise him if Smoke spoke out of turn. So, Ardor offered the chalice.

When she drank, the scent changed as quickly as it had come. Honey and citrus, like a candy made just for the duo. Ardor accepted the chalice back even as Nesryn's gown exploded into petals of red. He drank from it with the same respect, holding it with two hands. As if to mimic her, his own trousers were burned away in a sudden flash of heatless flame. He handed the chalice to his brother and Smoke, in a final insult to forced tradition, tilted it back into his open mouth with one hand, tongue extended to let the fluid run down it. He gulped it down in one smooth motion before both the chalice and his own leather pants vanished in a plume of smoke.

Each offered a hand.

"I, Ardor, Prince of Tartarus, take you, Nesryn, as my bride."

"I, Fumus, Prince of Tartarus, take you, Nesryn, as my bride. I prefer you call me Smoke, though."

Taking one hand each, the pair led Nesryn down to the largest cushion. It was obvious from the light flush of their cheeks, the swelling of their exposed lengths, that the aphrodisiac was working well on them. Without words, Ardor moved down to capture a nipple in his mouth, flicking with his tongue. Smoke moved to her neck, giving a rough bite. They would not be officially wed until all three were satisfied.

 

[Bunny]

Dual hands were offered and Nesryn exhaled, her breath shaky as she reached for them. She was tiny in comparison to the twins. That had been obvious from far away and now, with her delicate, small hands in their larger ones.. It was forced home. They were beautiful. Like the side of the same coin. They both had an air of violence about them. Perhaps because of what they were. Yet, they were so different at the same time. Same and different. Sides of the same coin. That image was forced home once more as they both spoke.

“I, Nesryn, Princess of the Fae Realms, take you, Ardor and Smoke, as my husbands.”

Guided to the pillows she laid against the softness. Rather than focus on the gathered crowd, Nesryn gave the twins her full attention. A mouth captured a nipple and she whimpered. Her eyes finding the crown of Ardor’s head. The dark hair and the powerful horns. The hand that had held his hand moved to cradle the side of his face as his tongue flicked over her nipple. Her nails slipped into his long locks, holding him ever so slightly to her breast.

Smoke’s mouth brushed her neck and she tilted her head to one side, giving him free reign of her slender neck. The feel of his teeth had her crying out. Her free hand reached for Smoke as the aphrodisiac built in their systems. Her hand stroked down Smoke’s arm, her nails playing along his skin before she found his hand. She brought it to her other breast.. Wanting.. Needing them both to touch her. Her hand left Ardor’s hair just long enough to pull a hand to her hip..

She’d been worried that even with the aphrodisiac that she’d be too worried about the eyes on them. They were there, Nesryn could feel them like candle flames along her skin and yet, she didn’t see them. Her attention on the twins and twins alone. Her scent though now crashed against the onlookers as she lust rose and spilled past the bubble they’d created.

---

#4682b4

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

The words were more than just ceremony. It was a consenting to a powerful magic. Princes of hell married for more than just a place to sow their seeds. They did it to expand their power. From the moment Nesryn repeated the vow, she was a princess of hell, a queen to be. Like the legendary Hades and Persephone, she would become a mistress of both realms. What was to come, though, was a bonding that had to he witnessed by the nobility of the realms.

The aphrodisiac was potent, coursing through both of the twins as they began to devour their new bride. Ardor pressed his face to her hand even as he licked and teased her nipple. He was like a cat being given a treat. Smoke, on the other hand, was grinning wildly even as he bit into her silken skin. Neither missed the hints that the shy fae was giving them. The alchemical mixture was overpowering them, but the incredible scent and beautiful body before them was no easier to ignore. Instead, it sparked hunger. They were going to devour her.

Even as she begged Smoke to play with her breast, made Ardor grasp her hip tightly, the two were focusing on something else. Smoke moved from her neck downward, kissing and licking her skin in equal measures. He cruelly skipped her nipple, only his fingers giving it attention. Instead, he reached all the way down to her hip before Ardor took action. His brother pulled her over onto her side, making Nesryn face him. Smoke growled a little, nibbling on her hip bone as he had his goal stolen.

Ardor bared long fangs before diving in, burying his face between her thighs. In this new position, the fire prince was overwhelmed by the scent of sweet flowers mixed with natural lust. It was like a spark setting off a bomb, the aphrodisiac the fuse. He extended an unnaturally long tongue, the one thing he and Smoke shared. He ran the tip from her very bottom of her womanhood to the sensitive nub at the apex. He used it to tease her hood back and rub against her clit in earnest for a few moments. Then, the flat of his tongue began to stroke from her entrance to her clit over and over in long licks. He was leaving her soaked with his saliva and her need, mixed in ever changing amounts.

Smoke, his initial goal taken from him, let his brother take the lead. While Ardor devoured from the front, Smoke decided he would no longer wait for his turn. He slid himself down, finding a perfectly shaped little ass in his face. As if their princess was not perfect enough, a tiny silvery doe tail sat just above, wiggling in excitement and pleasure. With a smirk, he wrapped his fingers around it.

"Nesryn, you have such a cute little tail. Do you like playing with it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Smoke buried his face between her cheeks just like his brother had in the front. His tongue only extended a bit, the tip finding her asshole immediately. He prodded and licked in circles, teasing the tiny hole with the same excitement his brother was showing from her front. All three of them were enraptured with the ceremony.

Such an occasion was meant to be a serious and formal affair. Nesryn's scent, powerful and laced with the same aphrodisiac that filled her, made short work or such notions. Those little embers that danced over their bodies were soon turned into burning torches. The flames spread through the crowd and it was not long before the newly weds were not the only ones participating in the cerenomy.

 

[Bunny]

All would witness as the magic bound them to one another. They wouldn’t see the chains that formed between their souls, linking the three. Uncommon to be sure, that it happened between so many. Normally a pair formed this bond. Linked their very souls together. She’d be a queen of hell and perhaps her own realms some day.. Yet she’d forever be of both. Life and death. Two sides of the same coin.. Much like her mates.

The very mates who felt her desires, as she pulled them to her and ignored them. Smoke bypassed her nipple.. Neither lips nor tongue found the hardened peak. Nesryn groaned as only his fingers met it and barely at that. His mouth continued, along her torso and to her hip whens he was suddenly pulled on her side, facing Ardor. Teeth scraped along her hip and she bit her lower lip. Pain and pleasure. Delightful in equal measure.

Ardor’s mouth moved lower as well and it left Nersyn’s breasts exposed to the cool air. How the air of hell could be cool was a statement to exactly how hot her body was in the moment. She felt the touch of a tongue. Longer than a human’s or most of her own kin..She felt its wetness as it flicked along the length of her lips. Her head fell back and she moaned. Her hands moved lower, finding the curve of his horns. She didn’t pull him to her, not yet. Her hands explored the curled lengths. Feeling the ridges along them. Each flick of his tongue over her clit made the sounds of her moans change. Too sensitive. Too needy. When he focused on it, she did grab his horns then. To ground herself as he teased her to the every edge of shattering.

Turned as she was, Smoke was given the delight of a surprise. A fawn tail that appeared just above her rear, where her spine ended. With the pleasure from Ardor, his twin, it flickered back and forth in pleasure. A quick, almost happy motion. When his fingers curled around the silken fur she gasped and bit her lower lip. He could feel it still squirm in his grasp and her head turned, her chin on her shoulder, as she gazed at him from under the veil of her lashes. “Play?”

Her answer had not come quite quick enough and Smoke’s head also dipped, his tongue brushing her smaller hole. This was not a pleasure she’d ever experienced, but it caused her to tighten and pull his brother closer to her aching cunt. “Gods above..” she groaned. She liked this.. Very much, Nesryn decided. She might have been too shy, without the aphrodisiac to allow him to lick her there and what pleasure she would have missed out on!

Little did they know that they were not the only ones who began to enjoy the ceremony.. No thanks to their new bride to be and her pheromones washing over the crowd setting their skin ablaze like her own. They should have watched the three, witnessed the magic and instead she forced them to join the three. None would be able to stand long against the waves of pleasure and lust. She might have felt sorry.. Maybe.. But this also meant they were no longer watching them or at least.. Them alone.

---

#4682b4

 

[Lady Jace Beleren]

It might have been the aphrodisiac or it might have simply been the sweet floral scent of his new bride, but Ardor was lost to the world. While she toyed with his horns, he eagerly licked and lapped from her sweet pool. It coated his tongue and he gulped it down happily. This was all the aphrodisiac he needed. Unaware of what his brother was up to, the flame prince continued to work his tongue in a mindless frenzy. Then, he felt a tug, a hard pull on his horns to force his face deeper. His lips wrapped around her then, covering her entire womanhood.

The demonic tongue, long and oh so thick at as it extended, found her entrance then. He pushed her open with ease, conforming to fit her tightness as it curled inside. It wriggled and explored with more heat and slickness than any other creature could give. It had an incredible agility, teasing her inner folds and finding all the rougher pleasure spots where nerves were bundled. All the while, he gulped down her nectar, applying a soft suction to her lips and especially her clit. His throat bobbed as he made a feast of the fae princess.

Smoke, however, was much more aware of the game. He was always the hedonist. He was the one who absconded to other realms, laid with anyone and everyone he please. He had developed his tastes and talents for sex with partners of every kind. Now, with a perky little ass in front of him begging for attention, he was in bliss.

"What a naughty princess. You like having both holes teased? And I can feel your tail going wild."

He kept a bit of distance, stroking his thumb over her tail while the tip of his tongue made tiny circles, pressing harder and harder against her asshole until the wetness and force became enough to made her open for him. He let his tongue stay extended, guiding his saliva down to her ass. It made a mess, going inside and spilling out. It met with Ardor's mouth and he seemed to not mind mixing with his sibling. Instead, his tongue pulled free long enough to meet Smoke's at her ass, extending to its max to prod her tiny hole a few times before returning to her pussy to happily continue to devour her.

Smoke was a little too selfish and far too drunk on desire to hold back and keep teasing. One hand never left her tail, tugging it to guide her hips a little. Soon, she was bent over his brother, nearly smothering Ardor with her pussy. Meanwhile, behind, something strangely soft and yet impossibly hard nudged her tight little ring. Smoke hissed softly, still stroking her happy little tail.

"I'll give up the right to take your virginity to my brother. In exchange, I think you should try to fit this in your ass for me. Don't look. Just feel. Then, put me in."

Smoke took hold of one of Nesryn's wrists, tugging it free from the curling horn that needed no guiding to keep eating her with wild intensity. Instead, he took her fingers and brought them to his cock. It was a known fact that demon males were all unique in their endowment, yet the vessels of sin all seemed to be designed for pleasure. The head of Smoke's length felt similar to other males, the same soft mushroom tip. The biggest difference was in his girth. He expanded rapidly, becoming massive in the middle. Then, he tapered down at the base again. In his experience, it made her toys clamp down on him as hard as they could. They squeezed him from tip to base and each thrust spread them over and over, forcing every nerve to react.

"As your two husbands, I think we should take you together. At some point at least. With this concoction in our blood, I doubt I'll stop until some number of us can no longer walk. And your scent... It may be even more potent."

To emphasize his point, he ran that long tongue along the back of neck. His hand tugged gently on her tail, nudging her back against the tip of him again.