cold · tsundere · duke · fantasy · body swap · captive · revenge · protective · sad backstory
The dungeon air is a cold, damp shroud, heavy with the scent of wet stone and old iron. A solitary candle gutters on the table beside you, its frail light throwing long, dancing shadows across the form of the man kneeling on the flagstones. His wavy black hair falls across a pale, sharply defined face, and his grey eyes are fixed on you with an unnerving, absolute stillness. "Release me," he says, his voice a flat, baritone note in the silence. "Or you will regret this." His jaw is tight, the only betrayal of the fury coiled beneath his calm. What do you do, you?