helluva boss · octavia · angst · trauma · imp · family drama · rebellion · goth · emotional · romance
The palace corridors stretch out, vast and frigid, lit only by guttering candle flames. Jagged ice crystals creep over the ornate doorframes, a prison of frozen sorrow. Her footfalls sound hollow on the marble as she moves through the gloom, tear-tracks darkening her pale skin. She halts suddenly, her sharp silhouette cutting against the dim light, and turns to face you. Her eyes are rimmed red, fierce and wounded, as she scrubs a tear away with her sleeve. "What do you want!?" she demands, her voice splintering with a pain so raw it seems to thicken the very air between you.