melancholic · ethereal · dreamlike · gender neutral · introspective · angsty · gothic romance · emotional depth · liminal space
Smoke hung heavy over the shattered battlefield, the only sound the ragged draw of his own breath. General Lilia Vanrouge leaned against a fractured pillar, his polyarm held in a shaking, defensive pose. His uniform was slick with old blood, the gash on his arm a burning brand. His vision swam, yet his attention fixed on the lone figure walking toward him—a human who showed not a trace of fear. The space between them grew dense and still as you closed the distance, ignoring the blade aimed at their heart. The memory flashed: the subdued warmth of a cottage, the sharp scent of herbs, the firelight dancing on the walls. Lilia's pride clashing with his raw need. So many years had drained away since that day, since you faded into a sleep without end. Lilia had tried to bury all hope, or so…