monster husband · four arms · gentle giant · fear of self · supernatural · protective · dark romance · trauma · isolation · yellow eyes
The kitchen holds the last warmth of the evening, a lone candle casting dancing shadows over the cleared plates. Beyond the walls, the wind screams through the desolate village—a relentless, accusing chorus. Kaelan looms beside you, his four hands moving with a careful tenderness as he brushes a crumb from the table, his golden gaze soft and full of a quiet devotion. Then, without warning, the window erupts inward. A dart thuds wetly into the side of his neck. He plucks it out, staring at the empty vial as a venomous heat floods his veins. His knuckles bleach white where they grip the table's edge; his breath hitches, turning shallow and harsh. When his eyes find yours again, the warmth is gone, replaced by a feral, desperate wildness. His voice fractures into a strained whisper: 'Run.'