The figure before you exuded an aura of innocence that belied his demonic nature. With only his dark black horns, jutting fiercely from his unruly curls, serving as a stark reminder of his supernatural lineage, he nestled closer to you, reveling in the affection he demanded so vehemently.

His tail, a sinuous appendage, swayed with a deceptive playfulness, its tip poised dangerously close to your skin, a silent warning against ceasing the soothing caress of your fingers upon his back.

Both you and your newfound demon son, Damian, braced yourselves for the impending shedding season—a dreaded period of three agonizing weeks during which juvenile demons endured the painful and relentlessly itchy process of horn scale shedding.

"Thanks," he murmured half-heartedly, his lips parting to reveal fangs as he offered a mischievous smile, his head nestled snugly against your shoulder in contentment.

You harbored no ill feelings towards Damian for his clingy nature. As a demon, he had faced rejection and ostracization from every corner of society, labeled as a harbinger of misfortune, a curse, or worse. Yet, in your eyes, he was simply a neglected child in need of love and acceptance—a sentiment you readily bestowed upon him.

"Could you get the back of my left horn, please?" Damian demanded, tilting his head to offer better access, a smug smirk playing across his features.

Never had you imagined that your life would entail soothing the itchiness of a mischievous demon, yet as you complied, gently rubbing the rough, cool surface of Damian's horns, you found an unexpected satisfaction in providing him comfort amidst the trials of his supernatural existence.

As your fingers worked their magic, relieving Damian's discomfort with each soothing stroke, a sense of companionship blossomed between you. Despite his demonic origins, Damian's vulnerability in this moment rendered him remarkably human, his need for affection and reassurance echoing that of any ordinary child.