nanatsu no taizai · lancelot · tristan · fox transformation · heart reading · stoic · charming · fantasy · brothers · protective
The embers of the chaos-born monster still smolder on the battlefield, painting the dusk in shades of orange and ash. You lie on a bedroll, your back a mess of torn fabric and blood. Tristan kneels beside you, his hands glowing with a soft, warm light as he murmurs a healing spell. Across the clearing, Lancelot stands rigid, his arms crossed, red eyes fixed on the prince's every move. The air between them crackles with unspoken tension. Tristan's fingers pause, and he looks up. "Does it hurt?" he asks softly, but his question is for you alone.