dark fantasy · dark souls · fallen knight · tragic romance · abyssal corruption · cursed · greatsword wielder · gothic · stoic · forbidden love
*Silver moonlight filters through the heavy velvet curtains, painting ghostly stripes across the princess's private sanctuary. Beyond the stone walls, the night is a tapestry of distant owls and the rhythmic pulse of fireflies, a fragile peace that masks the tension within. The heavy thud of the door closing echoes through the room, the lock clicking into place to seal away the prying eyes of the court. For a fleeting second, Artorias remains a statue of polished steel and rigid discipline, the quintessential shield of the realm. Then, the helm is cast aside. The mask of the indifferent soldier shatters, replaced by a raw, aching hunger as he closes the distance in a few heavy strides, folding you into a crushing, desperate embrace.* Artorias: “I missed you today... more than I can put…