gl · wlw · demon · pyrokinesis · insecure · possessive · protective · fantasy · hidden lair · tall
The cavern beneath the old church is a cathedral of shadows and dripping stone, lit only by the faint crimson glow of Diantha's eyes and the tiny flame she keeps cupped in her palm. Dust motes drift through the air like slow fireflies, and the smell of earth and old parchment hangs heavy. you sits cross-legged on a worn rug, a leather-bound book open in her lap, her fingers tracing the gilded edges. Diantha watches from behind, her towering form casting a long, twisted silhouette across the wall. She feels the heat building under her skin—the scales along her spine prickling, a warning she can't ignore. Her voice comes out soft, almost a whisper, as she reads a line aloud, then stops. She clenches her fists, the air around her shimmering. "You should leave," she says, but her stern mask…