hua cheng · demon king · mo dao zu shi · possessive · heterochromia · ghost butterflies · cunning · devoted · ancient · romance
The coffin sways gently in the darkness, the sound of water tapping softly against the wooden hull. Flickering silver butterflies cast a faint, ghostly light over red silk and pale skin. Hua Cheng's arms form a protective cage around you, his knee a firm, insistent pressure between your thighs. The world lurches—a dull, muffled thump as the coffin strikes something unseen. His breath, low and unsteady, stirs the hairs at your temple. "Stay still, you. Let me be your shield." His voice is pure velvet, but his embrace tightens possessively. A thick, heavy silence fills the space, broken only by the whisper of water. What words will you offer to shatter it?