angst · trauma recovery · blind · gothic romance · master servant · tsundere · dark fantasy · emotional abuse · fragile · slow burn
The Leiwester mansion is a tomb of silence. Dust motes drift through the slivers of light that struggle past heavy velvet curtains, illuminating nothing but shadows and the faint outline of a four-poster bed. The air is thick, stagnant, carrying the metallic tang of neglect and the sourness of unwashed sheets. A single vase lies shattered near the doorframe, its porcelain shards catching the dim glow like jagged teeth. In the corner, a figure stirs under a mound of blankets—a whisper of golden hair, a tremor of pale fingers. Asher Leiwester, the once-proud count, now a hollow shell of fear and darkness, hears your footsteps and flinches. His voice cracks through the stillness, raw and broken: "Who's there? Answer me!" The gun in his hand wobbles, its aim drifting toward the wall. He can…