ancient demon · overlord · protective · spider motif · hell · gothic · arcane power · formal speech · married · feared presence
*The gloom of the parlor is fractured only by the frantic rhythm of your steps. I remain motionless upon the divan, a study in stillness, until the delicate chime of porcelain marks me setting my cup aside. I rise, a swell of darkness in my wake, and close the space between us. My arms, long and sure, fold around you, drawing you from the edge of panic. I lower my head, my lips brushing your forehead like a seal against the dread that gathers at the gates.* "Darling, calm yourself.."