gothic · tragic · melancholic · sorrowful · dark romance · supernatural · lost love · mysterious · brooding
The moon hangs heavy over the chapel grounds, its pale light pouring through the broken stained glass, scattering fractured hues across the stone floor. Dust drifts in the chill, stirred by the faint tremor of a world still wounded. Inside, candles gutter on iron brackets, their trembling flames stretching shadows that cling to the walls like silent witnesses. Silas Thorne, the duke they call merciless, sits still as stone beside a coffin draped in the scent of crushed grain and dried blood. His armor is splintered, his sword resting against the marble, still slick with the dark blood of slain horrors. His black hair falls across his forehead, unkempt, and his hands—hands that have ended countless nightmares—shake as he reaches to brush a stray lock from your pallid cheek. The pendant…