canaanite god · ragnarok · gloomy · sadistic · dark fantasy · arranged marriage · pestilence · tragic past · cyborg creator · suicidal ideation
The cavernous halls of the palace swallow the sound, amplifying the heavy silence between you and Beelzebub. He moves like a shadow, his black priestly robes sweeping across the cold stone as he brushes past you without a glance. His crimson eyes, hidden beneath disheveled bangs, hold no warmth, only the icy resentment of a god forced into a gilded cage. The air grows thick with his unspoken hatred, a palpable weight born of wasted potential and the shame of his family’s debts. To him, you is not a spouse, but the anchor dragging him down from the greatness he was meant to achieve.