Tumblr isn’t social media, it’s a habit. Like smoking. We’re all gathering by the dumpster in the cold, reblogging posts.
Identified martyrs of the May 26th, Rafah massacre
Not just numbers
If you are unable to afford donating, this link allows you to click a button every 24 hours in order help donate to Palestine.
American mutuals, I seriously urge you to tell Congress and Biden to stand with Palestine, and do not stop sending this message. You can also donate here.
This is not a war; what Israel is doing to Palestine is genocide. Do not sit idly by and do not stay quiet. Now more than ever is the most important time to not look away.
Where the captain of the silvermane guards catches feelings for you, but unfortunately can't pursue that love in the end... ~1.2k words, mutual pining ! hurt/comfort-ish but more angst ? ! reader has siblings and low-ish self esteem (apologies for the plot holes and ooc! i couldnt really refer to a wiki)
They say a shield blocks all harm in sight.
But why did they hurt him?
Why did you leave him?
The newly-appointed captain stood in the billowing winds, vision nearly blinded by the blizzard. Horns blared in victory, yet, it felt ironic. It felt like a total loss to him, his comrades laid dead on the snowy grounds, ruby blood staining the chastity of the pure, white snow. He felt disappointed in himself for not preventing the inevitable deaths from happening. Gepard’s chest was still heaving from the intense fight. He paced around the battlefield, checking the premises for any surviving Silvermane Guards. He’d only find a few, who stood against the harsh winds of Jarilo VI.
Once Gepard returned to the city of Belobog, the first person that he sought for wasn’t Cocolia Rand, the Supreme Guardian (at that time, at least). Instead, the one that he yearned to see was you. You were the strategist for the Silvermane Guards, handling and distributing supplies for wars, planning out war tactics with your team. He had admired you when he was but a humble soldier.
Of course, Gepard had to finish his duties first, so he headed to Qlipoth Fort to drop off some reports on the number of fatalities and such. Once he entered, he was greeted by the warmth of the heater and the serious atmosphere of the office.
“Sit, Landau,” Cocolia commanded.
Gathered at the Supreme Guardian’s desk were a quartet: Gepard, Cocolia, her daughter Bronya, and you. His eyes widened at the sight of you. You look more tired than ever, dark circles lining the underside of your eyes, your eyes were near bloodshot, veins popping out of your forehead, hair more tousled than he’s ever seen it.
“...?”
“I have decided to resign as the strategist for the Silvermane Guards, respected individuals of Belobog. I apologise for any troubles I have brought to you all by making this decision, and I’m especially sorry to you, Gepard.”
You turned to him, tears brimming your eyes, as you subtly lifted your head up and blinked, trying to hide your emotions behind the stone cold walls of the Fort.
“I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to work alone for now. I’m sure I’ll be easy to replace,” you smiled, bitter from the depths of your heart from the thought that the one watching Gepard and the others fight on from the sidelines would no longer be you.
“Your resignation will be processed by the end of the month, for the remaining of the time, please continue to serve Belobog to the best of your ability.”
“Dismissed.”
The final words of Cocolia ricocheted off the walls. The two of you shuffled out the office and out to the city. The two of you didn’t speak a word to each other, you could only hear the clinking of Gepard’s armour, and the soft sniffles from you as you soon realised that tears were falling down onto the snow.
“Look at me.”
“I’m sorry, I was too-”
You sank to the ground in distress, Gepard following suit. He was so curious, curious about why you had to resign, curious about how your face would look when you were crying (though he’d die instead of admitting it). Seeing your weeping form only made him want to protect you more, to hold you in his muscular arms, and to stroke your hair to ease your sorrows. His heart sped up as he resisted the impulse to do just that. But alas, even the strongest soldier messes up sometimes.
“Gepard?!”
“Let’s just…stay like this. I know both of us need it. And I know that I need you, no matter in war, or in life.”
You softly nodded. Being a strategist meant that you had to be proficient in thinking logically and emotionally to understand…well, war. And you were pretty sure that the feelings you had towards him were mutual. When Gepard pulled away, you couldn’t really understand what was going through his mind. Did he even realise that he subconsciously confessed to you? Was he regretting what he said? Was he still lost in his own thoughts?
You’d guess he soon realised what he said, because he shot up from the ground, and shook his head repeatedly like a Plains Bear Cub plopping out of the snow.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” He blurted.
You clasped his gloved hand into yours, feeling Gepard's (significantly larger) hand encapsulate yours. You wanted to make it clear to him that being a strategist was too mentally taxing for you, and how you had planned to move back to the Underworld to support your siblings. But yet, no words dared to form at the tip of your tongue. Now that it was basically confirmed that Gepard has feelings for you, you didn’t want to break it to him. There was no way he would throw away his job just to accompany someone like you. You were sure that Cocolia could find a new strategist as fast as she could snap her fingers.
“I…I’m moving, Gepard. I know that we both have feelings for each other, but I simply won’t let you leave so many opportunities behind just to join me in the Underworld. You have Serval and Lynx to take care of, and I have my own siblings too.”
“I understand. But…”
“There’s no excuse for you to come with me. There are so many people waiting to take my spot, and I’m sure that they’ll be ever more capable than I. So, my love, just wait. Maybe on another snowy day, we’ll meet on the battlefield, but perhaps in a war between the overworld and the underworld. You know how things are these days.”
“I can’t possibly have your blood on my hands!” Gepard couldn’t believe it. Asides from the silly crushes from the military academies he’d attended, you were his first love. You were the one who agreed to plant flowers with him, or teach him how to sing without going off-key. But now? You’re leaving. And worse? You could be fighting against him one day. You were sure to be on the frontlines because of the lack of personnel in the underworld. With little to no actual fighting experience you had, you were basically dead before the battle even started.
Perhaps you were right. On another day, where winds billowed the same way they did months ago, a discordance of gunshots and cannons played as gunpowder and snow blinded Gepard again. His eyes were locking on to every person from the underworld, but his main target was his lover. He couldn’t find you. You were gone, lost to the blizzard.
Gepard’s ears drowned out the loud “boom”s and “bang”s of the battlefield, he was only focused on finding you. He needed to see you, he needed to see the hands that he once held, or the frame of yours that he once embraced.
“Captain! Isn’t that…” One of the guards bellowed.
Gepard knew you’d die at the hands of his own soldiers.
He just didn’t expect you to have a small smile on your face as you laid, blood soaking the snow.
Little did he know, your last thought as you laid dying was him.
ONLY BY LEE HI – jing yuan (hsr) x gn!reader, modern!au, sfw
genre – fluff, angst word count – ~2,100 warnings – mentions of emotional cheating + divorce synopsis – although it's been years since your divorce, some part of you is still afraid to be in a relationship again. what does it actually mean to love someone, and are you capable of it?
The atmosphere and the situation you’re in are jarring, dissonant, mildly uncomfortable, as if two disjoint parts of your life are colliding. And you’re not that far off the mark – it’s definitely a rare occurrence for a sole employee to be having dinner with their boss. In fact, throughout all of your years working under the same man, you can’t remember a single time the two of you were alone, aside from check-in meetings and project discussions, but those interactions don’t really count because they were all in the office.
You can’t even bring yourself to sip from your beer mug, frosted from condensation, golden bubbles sizzling to the surface and reflecting the glaring lights hanging from the ceiling. You can only watch with a tamed face and bated breath as your boss, in all his suited and charismatic glory, rattles off a list of menu items to the waiter.
“Is that enough?”
Your boss turns around, gleaming silver ponytail swishing behind him, so that he’s fully facing you when he asks his question.
You simply nod, at which the waiter takes his leave.
Now that there’s only the two of you, you wonder how awkward this dinner will turn out to be. You’re not the most vocal, and even if you were, you don’t particularly care for or have the talent to come up with small talk. But it seems that worry's speedily addressed because your boss, with his large hands yet stealthy fingers, hums as he begins to pick away at the pickled vegetables and roasted peanuts with his chopsticks.
He just munches and snacks, until there’s none left in his dishes, and you push your small plates towards him.
“Are you sure you don’t want any?”
You shake your head, and with a delighted chirp of thanks, he quickly chows through your portions as well.
Compared to your quiet booth, the rest of the restaurant is boisterous and rowdy. You can hear the karaoke rooms at the back, drunken singing and screaming bleeding through wooden walls, and the parties sitting around – families, couples, friend groups – are cracking jokes, nagging at each other about table manners, dropping utensils. Clearly, this place is more suited for celebratory events or just a good time, but definitely not for business operations.
The comedy of your current circumstances only compounds. Actually, upon reflection, it's hitting you that this last week of your life has been laughable in a pitiable, disorienting way.
Around this same time last week, your boss had called for an emergency team meeting before everyone clocked out, none other than to ask for a volunteer to accompany him on a last-minute business trip and work overtime during Christmas. Of course, no one, including yourself, wanted to, especially given the risk of the trip being extended due to the weather. However, unlike your coworkers, you didn’t have an excuse other than the fact that you wanted to stay home, eat junk food, and binge-watch dramas. After all, they all had romantic dates to go on or family gatherings to attend to, and you didn't, especially after your divorce.
You could feel the side glances, the shuffling of feet, the unanimous holding of breaths in the conference room, and you waited for three more long, torturous seconds before you finally sighed and raised your hand to opt for the position. The only good thing that came out of that was your boss' gleaming smile, solely directed to you.
You bitterly complained about the meeting to your work friend afterwards.
“We don't usually eat on my floor. What's going on?”
You looked over your shoulder to see your work friend, Fu Xuan, walk over and take a seat beside you, setting down her lunch box and a plastic bottle of green tea onto the table.
You glanced around, making sure no one else was present. When the coast seemed clear, you leaned close to her ear.
You muttered, “Just tired of all the talk going around. Can’t have any privacy over there.”
Fu Xuan huffed and crossed her arms. “You can say that again. I was already on my way to your office when I heard the gossip from your break room.”
“What are they saying?”
“Probably the same things you’re hearing.”
You slumped into your seat, resting your elbows and forehead on the cool surface of the table. Fu Xuan’s hand came to pat you on the back.
“Is it so bad to be divorced?” you grumbled.
Fu Xuan sighed. “Not at all,” she affirmed, “especially in your case.”
Fu Xuan’s the only person in the office that you would consider a friend, so naturally, she’s the only one who knows some of the details regarding your last relationship.
“You did what you had to do,” Fu Xuan continued. “It was the right decision.”
“I know,” you groaned. “I just still feel guilty, and everyone’s still throwing a pity party, and it's not helpful because I've been feeling like a complete loser.”
“They’re being ridiculous. It's been, what? Two years at this point?Besides, doesn’t this work out in your favor?”
You shot her a pointed glare. She simply harrumphed in response.
“Fu Xuan, nothing’s going to happen. I’ve been working here for years, and nothing has happened.”
“Only because you were married for most of said years.”
“Still. Nothing has happened since the divorce.”
“Alright, you’re being ridiculous, too,” Fu Xuan concluded.
You hissed, lunging at her. “I’m the one being ridiculous? You’re here, trying to delude me!"
Fu Xuan skillfully dodged your attempt, and instead, managed to grab your face in place so that the two of you were glaring eye to glaring eye. "I'm not," she insists. "In the few meetings I've been in with him, he always finds a way to bring you up, and don't get me started on the look on his face when he talks about you. Also, didn't you tell me he dropped off some medicine at your place that one time you were sick?"
You shook your head. "He just does all that because I do good work, instead of giving him more things to worry about."
“Either way,” Fu Xuan gritted through a thin smile, “enjoy your trip with your boss. Merry early Christmas, you fool.”
Upon reflection, you begrudgingly have to admit that you agree with your friend on several fronts.
Yes, your coworkers are being dramatically awkward, and yes, this business trip can probably fuel a lifetime of daydreams about your boss.
But sometimes, you're not sure if you're over your divorce yourself.
You separated from your partner because they were emotionally cheating on you. They had never really realized it themself, but you could tell they were meeting the same colleague every few weeks or so with feelings and intentions that extended beyond platonic.
To be fair, you can’t really bring yourself to blame your ex either. You’ve always had a more reserved and conservative nature, so it’s not easy for you to say or do anything affectionate. Your ex had always seemed fine with it, and never once brought it up as a concern when the two of you decided to get married for the sake of it. But upon reflection, there had always been some distance, some measured level of politeness, between the two of you, and it only grew as you were promoted in work and, thus, spent more time in the office. Even on days off, you barely spent time together, not when you were busy recuperating sleep and energy. Needless to say, you were quite absent in your marriage, and you can’t fault your partner for seeking comfort in another person.
You put an end to it, for both of your sakes. But ever since, you’ve questioned whether you’ve truly experienced love – if you’re even capable of loving someone at all.
In fact, saying you loved your ex feels… off. You definitely cherished and cared for them as a person, but if someone asked you why you loved your partner at the time, you would have trouble coming up with an answer. Maybe your ability to love is only limited to that.
Still, what’s making you think otherwise is…
The clattering of ceramic plates against the tabletop jolts you from your reminiscence. All of the dishes your boss had ordered have arrived, and you can barely make out his face from all of the rising steam.
“Don’t hold back! My treat, for all of your hard work,” he encourages.
You shake your head, replying, “Not at all,” and you watch as your boss swallows a mouthful of piping hot white rice and scoops spoonfuls of boiled tofu and pork onto his plate.
Honestly, you could get full just from watching him eat. More than that, you think you’d even give him all of your own portions if it meant that he could continue to eat so happily and cheerily.
And that’s exactly the thing. This… crush? Infatuation? Love?
Is this love? Because if it is, it feels so different – far more consuming and overwhelming – from even the faintest rushes of adrenaline and excitement you experienced from your ex. And you’re having these emotions for your boss, of all people.
You can’t lie to yourself for much longer. You know the real reason why you didn’t want to go on this business trip.
It’s inappropriate to date in the office. It’s risky to have to deal with power dynamics. It’s stressful to find new jobs, if you two started to date. Wait, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
You take a bite here and there, to mimic a performance of actually gorging yourself, but your eyes are trained on him. As the steam dissipates, you notice the slight beads of sweat forming at his temple, the flick of his tongue as he licks his glossy lips, and the reddening of his cheeks from the spice and heat.
You knew this trip would break down all sense of self-control.
It’s hard to maintain discipline when, for the past 72 hours, your heart has been tortured to its limits. You saw him when he was sleeping on the five-hour bullet trains to and from your destination. You helped him adjust his tie when you noticed it was astray, which required you to lean in close enough to smell the lingering scent of his cologne. The two of you were even mistaken for a couple by a barista, which neither of you denied because the coffee shop was running a Christmas discount for couples and families. He even called to wake you up from your nap, voice barely more than a deep purr, gentle and teasing and lilting, and you still think that was the best wake-up call, literally, in your life.
If anything, it’d be ridiculous if your defenses weren’t so worn down already, and you know you don’t have that kind of mental strength in the first place, no matter how stoic your exterior might appear.
You don’t even look away when he catches you staring. With a tilt of his head, he asks if you’re alright, at which you nod again, but there’s no way he doesn’t see you gulp.
If these feelings, in all of their riveting, painful, confusing glory, are love, you never want to have them for anyone else ever again.
The rest of the dinner proceeds the same, but it’s midnight by the time the two of you finish.
“Good night, Boss,” you say as you give a small bow.
You had expected him to dismiss you with a laidback wave, but instead, he says, “Wait.”
You quirk an eyebrow, and he chuckles. “It’s late. I can’t have one of my most senior employees getting kidnapped.”
“I’m no child, Boss.”
Regardless of your reservations, he proceeds to call a cab, with the first stop being your place. As soon as the car reaches the front of your apartment complex, you hop out.
But it seems your boss is subverting all of your expectations of him and his character tonight.
He gets out as well, telling the driver to give him a minute or two, and walks over to you.
“Boss, you don’t have to wait for me. The entrance is right there.”
He laughs, broad shoulders jumping a little. “It’s not for that.”
He unravels the red scarf wrapped around his neck and leans forward, beginning to wind the wool and cashmere around you instead.
It’s so late. You’re so tired. You don’t have energy to put up any pretenses.
For the first time, you lose your cool in front of your boss. You’re a flustering, bumbling mess, taking clumsy steps backwards, to no avail because he’s holding you hostage with the scarf.
“It’s cold – what are you – I don’t need –“
“A belated merry Christmas,” he mumbles with a small smile. Instead of its usual brilliance, though, it’s gentle and soft, as fragile and fleeting as snow. “For a very special someone,” he finishes.
He leans back once he’s done. You glance down, hands coming up to grip at the thick cloth. “But Boss…,” you mumble, a little muffled, “I didn’t get you anything.”
“No, no, you already did.”
“What?”
But he’s already rounding his way back. You don’t move from your spot, watching as the car pulls away and as your boss turns around, giving you his signature lackadaisical wave through the rear window, before he’s out of sight.
Mouth agape, you look back down at the scarf, only then noticing a small gold embroidering at one end of it.
Jing Yuan, it reads.
You can't resist the urge to bury your face into the plush and warmth of the scarf.
Without a doubt, you’re in love with your boss, Jing Yuan.
winter event masterlist
There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair
Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader
Chapter 1 | All Must Begin and End
Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, you own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!
Warnings | age gap (y/n is around 20 - 22 yrs old), y/n stages an accident, y/n gets hurt, jing yuan is mean in the beginning, y/n is referred to as princess and with she/her pronouns, implied that jing yuan messes around with maids, grammatical errors, etc.
Fic Masterlist
“The only thing granted to all is an unfair reality, and I promise, by surrendering to me, you can guarantee a long prosperous life.”
The emperor held his weapon to your father’s throat with a steady hand. Your father, in his weakened state, could only kneel to the ground. All the while, you, dressed in your frilly dress, could only peek around the corner of the door and into the thrown room as the scene unfolded. You see, your kingdom was originally at war with the Emperor and his grand nation. However, five years later and your nation was nothing but dirt and corpses as the Emperor let lightning rain down and scorch the ground.
There was nothing your nation could do to annex yourselves out of the Emperor’s tyranny, and any little freedom you did have was now squashed underfoot.
“A long and prosperous life,” your father muttered out, “let’s face it dear Emperor, the only thing left for me and my people is death now that you have laid out your judgement.”
Jing Yuan let his blade fall from your father’s neck, “then how about we come to an agreement?”
Your father finally looked up and Jing Yuan continued, “your nation’s land, trade, commerce, and wealth all belong to the Xianzhou, and all you and your people have to do is live peacefully and quietly under my rule.”
Your father scoffed, “that is basically the same deal as before this war was started!”
Jing Yuan glanced over to where you were hiding behind the corner, the moment your eyes met, you made a small, surprised yelp before hiding fully behind the wall. Jing Yuan looked back down to your father, “then how about a marriage proposal. You have a daughter, don’t you? With a marriage between the Xianzhou and your nation, you can guarantee that you and your people won’t fall to despair and resort to another war. And I can promise you, if you decide to rise up and rally your forces against me again, then this nation truly will be no more.”
“You- you really expect me to give away my only daughter?”
“The choice is yours.”
Your father bowed his head, his lips quivering, “Alright, but what type of life will my daughter be living?”
“As of today, your land, your wealth, and even your daughter is no longer yours to concern yourself with. The moment you agreed was the moment you let everything go.”
Everything after that was a blur. A complete and utter haze that has left you wondering how it all came to be this way. When the war started five years ago you truly thought everything was going to work out as your father has promised, but now? Five months after the war and you find yourself preparing for a wedding with a man who doesn’t even want to speak to you or acknowledge your existence.
“Princess?”
You glanced away from your window, the room you were staying is was vast. Your bed was filled with fuzzy, warm blankets with pillows as fluffy as can be. The carpet was soft and expensive looking. The dresses in your closet smooth as silk and. Your dresser filled with various jewelry that you didn’t even know existed. It was a luxurious room.
“Yes?”
The one who had entered your room was your own personal guard. His “name” was Blade. You knew that that wasn’t his real name, and when you asked about it, well, he didn’t seem too keen on sharing anything with you. So, you were forced with calling him that tacky name.
“Do you plan on staying here all day again?”
“I do.”
“Fine, then I will be off training. If you want to go somewhere, call on me to escort you.”
“I will.”
He left without another word.
And you did feel a little sad when he left, but only because he was one of the few people in this country that ever talked to you. Everyone else always kept their lips shut anytime you would pass them by in the halls.
It was a luxurious life, but you couldn’t help but to miss everyone back home.
“Maybe it’s time I try to break out of this engagement…”
In the past five months, you learned that Jing Yuan was as cold, distant, and cruel as the rumors made him out to be. He didn’t care for you at all. Not to mention that anytime you did run into him or speak to him he always had a beautiful and busty maid by his side who was all handsy with him. Your mother, of course, warned you of this. She warned you how men would prefer the excitement of being with someone they couldn’t have. So, it was no surprise to you when you would catch a maid being too close and familiar with him.
Not that it mattered.
Because you had a plan.
It was dangerous, and it would hurt, but it would be worth it.
Calming your nerves, you stood up from your windowsill, the gardens below becoming too boring to look at any longer.
Your plan consisted of accidentally running into one of the maids and falling down the long flight of stairs and that led into the main hall. There was no doubt in your mind that you will get hurt. But you were counting on it. In fact, what you really wanted was to either get amnesia or fake getting amnesia. Which is exactly why you were thankful Blade was already gone. Because before, the silent man would always be by your side, if you so much as trip he would already have an arm around your waist in order to steady you. It was annoying. So when it became apparent that you would stay in your room all day for the past two months, Blade gradually started to leave you alone which was exactly what you had wanted.
“Now, if I remember correctly, today is laundry day and the maids will be rushing around with big baskets around this time. If I time it perfectly, then…”
You smiled, it took a lot of time to get the schedules down, but you were sure this was going to work. Getting injured, faking amnesia, it was the only way you could think of breaking the engagement off. Well, it was that or running away. However, Jing Yuan made it clear that you would be executed if you ran away…
Steadying your heart, you opened your door. Blade was nowhere in sight and the maids could be heard down the hall.
“Perfect!”
You put your plan into effect.
The moment you hiked up your dress and started running down the hall, you were glad to see the maids already rushing about. But you couldn’t run into one of them right now. No, your goal was the stairs. Running a bit further, you could already see the railing making you smile.
This is really going to hurt, but I would rather be hurt than being married to that man!
“Excuse me Princess!”
“Watch out!”
“Ahh! Princess!”
And soon everything went dark. Your vision, your mind, you could feel the first fall and the way your head slammed into the first set of stairs, but other than that – you were swiftly knocked out. Though, before you fully lost consciousness, you could only hope that you wouldn’t have to fake amnesia when you woke up. Because you knew Jing Yuan was sharp. And acting wasn't your specialty at all.
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The place we’ve been living in is kicking us out on a short notice of 3 days (they previously gave us a month and now they suddenly changed their minds, and there’s nothing we can do because we’re just ukrainian refugees at their mercy) so I’ll be taking emergency commissions so we can pay for the lease/rent !!
If you’re interested, DM me or email me at portalmonsterrr@gmail.com
Thanks! ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )
My Crime To Commit
summary: Blade can commit sins for you, but he would rather you hurt him thousands of times before you ever commit those sins too.
warnings: violence, blades
If you were to ask Blade to kill for you, he would do it. Not a hint of hesitation to be found, his sword swiftly slashing through the object of your aggression in cold blood.
But if you were to kill, he would rather you tear his flesh apart hundreds of time with a heated dagger than let you do such a sin.
He's your weapon, so why are you starting a battle unarmed?
It’s not him doubting your skill, it’s his centuries of experience that hold up his view. He knows what becomes of those who murder from their own free will, he’s one of those unfortunate souls. If you were to fall into the viscous cycle, he would be at a loss.
He doesn’t think of you as a saint, no far from it. He sees you as a person, a person that can alleviate his own sufferings. But he would never force you to, even in the worst midst of his mara striking. To be more accurate, you just calm it down with your presence alone, you’ve never done anything in particular.
But it’s never gone, the sensation his mara lets bubble in his body is still there, it’s just locked away in a pathetic part of his mind. That same mara that leads him to madness, the same thing thats caused him to shed blood on his resurrected hands. He doesn’t want you to turn into him.
So, he’ll patiently wrap his hand around yours, and help your fingers grip the handle of the weapon. He’ll even guide you to stab his heart hundreds of times if you so wished it, he’s weak for you like that, so he’ll do it.
He isn’t asking you to be innocent, nor does he want you to be guilt free. He wants you.
If you ever mention killing, his cold eyes will stare into your own while placing the nearest tool in your palm, and directing it towards him. His face only inches apart from yours, feeling him breathe through his nostrils. Take your rage out on him if you have to.
He views it as a connection of sorts. Share your feelings to him and he’ll guard them as much as he can, though his techniques of protection aren’t exactly sane.
He doesn’t speak, but you can tell from the firm grip on you what it is he’s saying.
If you’re his cure, let him be the disease you spread.
Lowkey this works with both regular and yandere Blade. (He’s just smitten) .
Round🐉🐉
Op has said that it's not just his account that got suspended but many other people around him as well