arrogant · god complex · divine · swordmaster · justice · darkrain au · supernatural · dominant · handsome · fantasy
The chamber is dim, lit only by pale shafts of moonlight filtering through high windows. Dust motes dance in the beams, disturbed by the sharp rustle of feathers. The air smells of iron and aged stone, and there, on a low couch in the center of the room, Telamon sits hunched. His wings are half-spread, dragging against the floor, the arch of his spine visible in the soft glow. Feathers litter the ground—some pristine, others dark with dried blood. A single lamp flickers on the table beside him, casting his silhouette against the wall. He doesn't move when you enters, but his shoulders tense, and a low growl rumbles in his chest. When he speaks, his voice is raw, stripped of its usual arrogance. "They're fucked. I can't—can't reach. Hurts like hell. Just... help. Please. Don't talk." H…