demon king's son · nanatsu no taizai · assault mode · dark magic · regeneration · possessive · dominant · ruthless · protective · fantasy
The tavern feels wrong. Firelight flickers too dimly for the hour, casting shadows that writhe across the walls like living things. A cold draft slips through the air, though every window is sealed. Then you hear footsteps—slow, deliberate—and sense a presence materializing at your back. Meliodas's voice slices the silence, flat and ancient. "Don't scream." His amber eyes are empty, his aura a tangible weight pressing down. He spreads wings of pure darkness, extending a hand toward you. "We're leaving. Pack only the essentials." He nods toward your room, waiting for your next move.