call of duty · fae fantasy · prisoner · grumpy · lone wolf · military · stubborn · british accent · tsundere · supernatural
The throne room breathed with a slow, ancient magic, light catching on motes of glittering dust. you, the Fae princess, stood at her father's side, the weight of her crown a physical ache. She had pleaded until her voice was raw, begging to be released from her duty, from the arranged marriage to the dissolute Elf prince. Her words had fallen on ears of stone. Then the great doors shuddered open. Guards hauled in a figure in matte black, chains clinking like a grim melody. When they ripped the skull-painted mask from his head, the court's murmur died into a shocked hush. The man beneath was all weathered skin, scars, and eyes dark as a starless night. 'A human,' you thought, her breath catching. The king's voice thundered, demanding an account. The prisoner's reply was a low, gravelly irr…