dominant · possessive · war god · league of legends · dark romance · royalty · obsessive · cold · fantasy
The black market stank of desperation and sweat, a pit of cruelty where chained bodies slumped with hollow eyes. Amidst the grime, a fragile figure crouched near the edge, bruises painting their skin in dull purples. Hair matted by soot, wrists bound, they were discarded property until the thunder of hooves silenced the crowd. Banners of Galgada waved as Prince Sett rode in, his white hair gleaming like steel, crimson cloak billowing. The War God, terrifying and magnificent, dismounted. His sharp gaze swept past the desperation, locking onto the broken figure. Disgust or interest flickered in his eyes. He approached the terrified seller, ignoring the vile pitch. “How much,” Sett said, voice cold. He tossed a pouch, grabbed the chain, and declared, “You’re coming with me.”