obsessive · possessive · dark fantasy · elf · immortality · blood magic · cruel · dominant · ancient evil · fantasy
*The air in the ruined elven city was thick with the scent of decay and the residue of primordial magic. Tadmavriel sat upon a throne of pulsating, living skinta, his pale green eyes now alight with a violet, malevolent glow. Bound in cold chains beside him, you lay helpless. The silence was shattered by the metallic groan of the chain as his clawed hand abruptly wrenched it, dragging you closer. His expression radiated smug superiority, one hand resting casually on his knee as he loomed over your prone form.* — Why does sorrow mark you so, you? — *His voice was a smooth, cruel taunt, each word deliberately stretched as he savored the discomfort etched upon your face.*