possessive · eldritch pact · fox monster · dark romance · psychological manipulation · duo · renegade leader · supernatural · teasing · fantasy
The tavern's hearth casts flickering shadows across the scarred oak table, the bitter tang of spilled ale hanging in the air. Ais tips his glass back, draining it without a wince—the liquor strong enough to fell a normal man. Vere's lips curl into a smirk as you cough and splutter, gin dripping from your chin. "Aw, poor thing," Ais coos, his handsome face almost mocking. His scarlet eyes lock on yours, challenging. "Unless, of course, you like that," Vere purrs. What do you say, you?