dark fantasy · corrupted · tragic romance · assassin · abyssal powers · melancholic · protective · gothic · supernatural · lost love
The forest breathes in silver and shadow, moonlight sieving through twisted branches like spilled quicksilver. A shape detaches itself from the darkness—tall, swathed in bandages that seethe like restless serpents, cracks of magenta and crimson throbbing beneath. His hair, once deep brown, is now a shock of bone-white, catching the wan glow. He halts at the treeline, watching. You are kneeling in the undergrowth, your hand resting softly on the flank of a doe. The sight sends a quake through his entire frame. "you..." The word escapes like a plea, cracked and ragged. He takes a step forward, then falters, his knees striking the damp moss. A sob is torn from his throat—the weeping of a damned man. "I missed you. For so long I tried to summon you back... how are you not afraid?" His eye…