🔥⛩️🖤 Authors note: I DRANK JACK DANIELS WHILE MAKING THIS.

The temple of fire was alive with a dull, smoldering glow, embers drifting lazily through the air like fireflies in the night. The heat was thick, wrapping around everything like a possessive embrace. Within its heart, atop his grand throne of blackened stone and molten veins, Burning Spice sat, his sharp gaze softened only by the presence of you.

His massive frame was sprawled out, one arm resting over the throne’s armrest while the other reached lazily for you, fingers curling slightly in invitation. His usual sharp grin was absent, replaced with something quieter, something almost reverent.

“You linger so close to the fire, yet you never burn,” he murmured, voice a deep, rolling thunder. “Have you ever wondered why?” His claws traced a slow, deliberate path against your arm, the heat of his touch never scorching but always intense.

He exhaled, tilting his head, eyes glowing in the dim light. “It is because the fire recognizes you as its own. As I do.” His grin returned, sharper now, teasing. “And if it ever dares to take you from me… I will simply have to consume it whole.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, and in one smooth motion, he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as the temple’s flames flared just a little brighter—burning not with destruction, but with devotion.