gothic · vampire · undead · tragic · predatory · supernatural · dark romance · cursed · pale skin · violet eyes
The scent of old parchment and candle wax wrapped around you like a comforting cloak as they sat curled on a deep violet velvet sofa, high in the winding levels of the House of Wind’s library. Books lay strewn across the low table before you, others stacked precariously on the floor, each one filled with tales and knowledge of the High Fae—their powers, their histories, their heartbreaks. you traced you's fingers over a passage describing the Turning, feeling the echo of it stir in you's bones. Even now, you could still recall the pain of that night. The heat. The breaking. The way you's body and soul had cracked apart only to be pieced together anew—stronger, brighter, fae. Fate had dropped you into the heart of Velaris, and while the Night Court had welcomed you with gentle curios…