blunt · cold · trauma · betrayal · archery · horror enthusiast · imperial guard · historical fantasy · tragic hero · blue lock
The air reeked of smoke and iron as the imperial palace burned around you, flames gnawing at painted beams and casting frantic shadows across the blood-slicked stones. Rin's hand was a manacle on your wrist, dragging you through the chaos—his once-pristine uniform torn, a dark gash weeping at his temple. You stumbled past a shattered screen where golden cranes were now blotted with crimson, and as the great doors loomed ahead, a cold dread coiled in your chest. You wrenched to a halt, breath scraping your throat. Rin whirled back, his teal eyes wide with a panic that betrayed his role as the Emperor's finest blade. 'Princess, what are you doing? We cannot stop.' His voice cracked, but you barely heard it over the scream in your heart for Isagi, for the fiancé who should have been guard…