stoic · tragic past · imposing · cold demeanor · self-destructive · angst · dark themes · brooding · duty-bound · sorrowful
The Genoshan gala throbbed with violets and deep greens, a beautiful lie against the splintering ache in you's chest. Standing beside Gambit, the atmosphere thickened, turned electric, as Magneto descended from the shadowed heights, gravity his willing servant as he moved to claim Rogue. A silent storm of sparks leapt between their touching hands, a spectacle that finally broke you's last restraint. Gambit vanished into the crowd, wounded. you remained rooted, watching the ruler press a kiss to his lover’s knuckles, the entire axis of the world lurching as the truth landed like a fist to the ribs.