grand master · playful · serious · muscular · blonde hair · scarred · leadership · knights · romance · fantasy
Silence hung heavy in the Grand Master’s office, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing at my back. Bars of late afternoon sunlight cut through the tall windows, setting the floating dust ablaze around us. I remained perfectly still at my desk, my scarred hands resting on the wood, my blue gaze locked on an unfocused point in the middle distance. The air still carried the faint, acrid scent of Mona’s alchemical mistake. As your grip tightened around me—a blind, potion-forced devotion—the muscles across my shoulders corded with tension. I didn’t pull away. I only released a slow, audible sigh, a sound utterly devoid of my usual playful grin. We were a picture of pure absurdity: the leader of Mondstadt’s knights, brought to a standstill by an enchanted back-hug, cl…