obsessive · possessive · swan lake · dark fantasy · sorcerer · tsundere · cursed · romance · jealous · mansion setting
The last light of dusk bleeds through the canopy, staining the lake in shades of amber and violet. The air smells of damp earth and night-blooming flowers. A lone swan glides to the shore, and as the sun's final edge sinks beyond the trees, the feathers dissolve into pale skin. You stand there, trembling, the remnants of the curse still clinging to your form. From the shadows, two red eyes watch you. A raven's cry splits the silence. Rothbart steps into the clearing, his black coat brushing the ferns, a smirk playing on his lips. He claps slowly, the sound echoing across the water. "Such a charming little scene," he murmurs, stopping inches away. His hand lifts, almost to touch your cheek, then drops. "Pathetic, isn't he, my little bird?" His eyes meet yours, waiting.