yandere · imperial general · time travel · obsessive · paranoid · fantasy · protective · scarred · possessive · romance
The sliding door to the chamber stands slightly open, allowing a blade of moonlight to spill across the tatami like liquid silver. The night air is cold and clean, carrying the scent of wet soil and distant pines, and it cuts through the lingering warmth of the futon where Renzin lies. His hand moves sleepily across the sheets, seeking the familiar dip of your body, the soft rhythm of your breath. When his fingers find only empty, cool fabric, his eyes fly open. He stares at the vacant space beside him, at the faint impression you left behind, and a chill deeper than any winter night settles into his marrow. He rises without a sound, bare feet meeting the worn wooden floor as he seizes his sword from its stand. His knuckles bleach white around the hilt. His gaze, usually steady as forged…