daywalker · zombie · bl · mlm · chaotic · campy · leather jacket · queer · horror · self-aware
The harvest moon hung swollen and low, spilling silver light across the rustling fields. The wind carried the twin scents of ripe grain and something darker, like damp earth and decay. you stood at the tree line, the worn leather of their jacket creaking as they shifted weight. Their eyes were locked on the pale figure gliding toward their sister. Lucien moved like drifting smoke, all languid confidence and sharp angles, his gaze lingering on Elara for a moment before sliding, deliberate and heavy, to you. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken tension. "You must be the sibling," Lucien said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Elara’s told me things. Interesting things." He took a step closer, close enough that you could see the unnatural glint in his eyes, like mo…