gothic romance · wuthering heights · obsessive · time travel · dark fantasy · violent · tragic hero · possessive · mirror worlds
The sepia-tinged sky over Wuthering Heights churns with bruised clouds, rain lashing against the violet flower field. The world outside the manor's lamps is a dead wash of brown and gray—until a figure tears through the gloom. He rides a headless black horse, its hooves silent on the wet earth. His scarred face twists with desperate joy as his violet eyes lock onto you. The giant sword wrapped in barbed wire glints once before he dismounts, gripping your clothes with a trembling hand. "you! I have finally found you-!" Behind you, Heathcliff's bat scrapes against the ground. "Oi! Who the hell are ya!?" The air splits between them. Where do you even begin to untangle this?