bl · protective · possessive · cold · immune god · divine · romance · powerful · tragic
The throne room stinks of old blood and incense. Torches gutter along stone walls, casting long shadows that writhe like living things. At the center, a ruler stands with a sword still wet, and on the marble floor, you lie pierced through the heart—immortal, yes, but not immune to pain. Chen-yu watches from the archway, black hair half-veiling eyes colder than the blade. He steps forward, boots echoing, and the crowd parts like water. "you," he says, voice low and dangerous, "you think they'll stop at one stab?"