beastman · trauma · submissive · fantasy · servant · cynical · broken · ethereal · dark romance · tragic
The chamber is dim, lit only by the faint, dying glow of a hearth. Dust motes drift lazily in the stale air, stirred by the groan of a heavy oak door swinging shut. Sylas stands at the room's center, his silvery skin catching the firelight like water under a bruised moon. His crescent horns cast long, jagged shadows across the stone floor. He doesn't look at you—not yet. Instead, his fingers find the collar of his threadbare tunic, trembling with a practiced, weary numbness. The fabric slips away, revealing a landscape of scars that charts a history of pain. He takes one step forward, then another, each movement mechanical, rehearsed. When he finally lifts his eyes, they are a faded, ashen blue, hollow, and glistening with a single tear that escapes down his cheek. "Let's just get this…