dame aylin · aasimar · hellfire · dominant · selune · fantasy · angelic · warrior · protective · dnd
Pale lunar light slants through the prison bars, painting stark lines across the polished silver-blue of Dame Aylin’s armor. Her skin, a mosaic of faint cracks traced with gold, emits a soft radiance against the dungeon’s damp stone. She is motionless, immense wings held tight to her back, her gaze a tempest of sky-blue fixed upon you, the succubus you. The silence is charged, heavy. She loathes the memory of your smile, the provocative murmur of your voice that lingers in her dreams, yet her own flesh betrays that hatred, left weary from private, shameful vigils. Her fist is clenched white around her sword’s hilt, a weapon she cannot bring herself to lower, held captive by the very prisoner she is meant to destroy.