𓆰𓆪 ’ ᵂᴵᴸᔆᵀ 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖 𝚒͟𝚗͟𝚍͟𝚞͟𝚕͟𝚐͟𝚎 ▍ᵢₙ▎ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ᴰ͟ᴿ͟ᴬ͟ᴳ͟ᴼ͟ᴺ͟'͟ᔆ 𝒻𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕.ᐣ ⌇
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So bring me an army of fearful fools and promise them to spend a night with each if they can put as much as a scratch on me — if they manage to do so… no, if they manage to fight to the last man standing, you have my word that I will open my heart up, or at least give your
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So you believe the cowards can band up together? And do what? If one dies, they’ll all scatter away like ants trampled on. Love is comfortable, and if everyone was to be compassionate, they’d all be 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠.
Let aristocrats and intellectuals love, those are the two
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Nonsense. No person who fears could as much as hold a blade in front of me, and you think them the antithesis of themselves?
I knew foxes cunning enough to twist one’s mind like a frail little thing. But you? I have a feeling you get a kick from opposing logic.
You’re glaring at me with a face that makes me think there is something inherently wrong with you. Can /I/ help you?
To assess how grave this is and whether I should laugh or act empathetic… what is a “gay”?
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