#late blooming perennials

[mmwm]

NOVEMBER BLOOM DAY

[jesse-cosay]

Since explaining the No Exit au went over super well, I've decided to introduce y'all to The Late Blooming Perennial au.

This one starts with Tulip's adventure on the train, when she reaches the Chrome Car. Except, reflections can't think or feel when they're in the Mirror World. They can't feel discontent. (I wanted a real reason as to why most reflections were content, and I felt like this explained better why they don't all try to escape aside from "they like being reflections")

So Lake has never wanted anything before, until they switch into the Prime World with Tulip- but they don't know what to do. They haven't had the chance to Exist yet. The chance to be their own person or make choices- not even to think about what choices they might take, in theory.

Instead of trying to trap Tulip or run away, they talk, and work out a plan a bit faster. Making a narrow escape and traveling together instead of splitting up. Lake doesn't know much, and even if being around Tulip sometimes makes them feel weird, she's the only person they have. Tulip helps them hide from the flecs and ends up taking a lot longer to get off because the two of them often have to take detours now that they're traveling together instead of apart.

They're on the train for so long, in fact, that they run into a magical deer and a boy who talks too much.

For the sake of not having too many characters, Atticus stayed behind in the Unfinished Car, working with that king instead of going forth with Tulip and One-one.

After Lake and Jesse argue, and Lake begs Tulip to let them travel with "the deer" because Tulip has her own denizens and Lake wants to feel normal, like every other passenger. Well, they move forward. Tulip is excited to meet another passenger and her and Jesse get along pretty well.

Lake wanted to be more cautious about who they befriended, given their circumstances. Circumstances that they had yet to reveal to Jesse. That leads us to the Toad Car.

Jesse panics, but Tulip won't stand for it. She and Lake mock the flecs (loudly), and while Jesse isn't sure he should trust them- he's inclined to. Tulip is a human, like him. They explain what happened, how Lake came to be, and he turns around.

This leads to Lake being Extra soft on Jesse, which Tulip teases them for immensely. Lake is Not subtle. Jesse is the first person aside from Tulip to see them as a real person, to treat them normally. He had no obligation to help Lake or "make it up to them", the way Tulip did. He could have traveled on his own after they escaped the flecs. But he didn't.

He stayed.

They have a few run-ins with the Stewardess, but it's easier to fight her/run off with the three of them (and a magic deer and a talking robot-ball).

Lake (finally) shaves their head using a train wheel. Much to Tulip and Jesse's horror and dismay. There is lots of screaming and yelling.

All-in-all, everything seems to be falling into place. Their numbers going down bit by bit and the future seeming brighter now that they aren't facing the train alone.

Until the Ball Pit Car.

The Stewardess is set. The conductor will stop at nothing to put an end to their journey.

Jesse stands up for them. He sets his shoulders, he blocks the path. He won't be swayed by threats.

His number drops to zero.

The Stewardess forces him through his exit, flinging him without a second thought.

Lake, who had been defending Tulip (keeping her behind them since the lasers only bounced off uselessly), breaks. They try to fight the Stewardess, but that only leaves Tulip open. Amelia takes her shot.

Horrified, Lake holds Tulip. The first person to care about them. To free them, before they even knew they were trapped. And it's their fault she's dead.

Except she isn't dead. Just. Changing. Just different. Morphing into something inhuman, something that Tulip had warned them about in their early days.

The next sequence is similar to the canon of Book 1. They have to trap Tulip, who's now a ghom. The Cat helps Lake get to the front of the train.

The fight with Amelia is a bit quicker. Lake is made of metal and they are pissed. They don't pull their punches.

Lake turns Tulip back, doesn't talk to Amelia the way Tulip does. They lost Jesse, sure, but they don't know how to deal with loss. How to explain that to someone else. And while they understand Amelia to some extent, they care more about the fact she hurt their friends.

One-one takes over the train, and he grants Tulip her exit. Tulip, however, is smarter than Jesse or Lake.

She lets Lake go first, and when she realizes that it won't work, she fights One-one about it. Lake isn't a denizen- and he should know that! They came from the Mirror World, which is attached to the train just like the real world is. But not a part of it.

Eventually, they get Lake through (who is relieved that after messing up, Tulip was still willing to fight for them), and the two are finally safe in Minnesota.

Of course, the first thing they do is look up one Jesse Cosay, and save him from getting a return trip on the train.

[nawilla]

A Question for the Gardeners

I want to make part of my yard a little memorial garden for my late cats. One was white, one was a tuxedo. Does anyone have suggestions for perennials with white and black-and-white flowers that are relatively easy to grow? (I have no idea what I'll do for the silver tabby, but she's doing pretty well for now). I know that plants don't produce true black, I'm okay with that.

I was considering a large white crocus and some black and white tulips for the spring, but want something that will bloom later in the spring/summer as well.

I have seen the white black eyed susan (Thunbergia alata) but it might be too cold for them here (Pittsburgh, PA) and they may be invasive. I have done well with coneflowers in my front yard and previous homeowner let crocus take over the back yard, so it does well there.

Advice welcome!

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Monday 5 August 2024

In this herbaceous border the late summer display was provided by the orange flowers of the tuberous rooted Alstroemeria sp. (Peruvian lily) and these contrasted with the blue blooms of the cormous perennial Triteleia laxa (brodiaea, grassnut, Ithuriel's spear, triplet lily).

Jill Raggett

[myers-meadow]

Libra: Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy x reader

Happy super late, or already early, birthday @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better!! Here is a bday gift fic, angst and fluff, just for you <3.

Summary: Insecurities come to a head on your birthday, but the Malfoys always have a thing or two up their sleeve to make it all better.

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x Narcissa Malfoy x reader in an equal poly relationship.

I hope you like it, cy!! This is quite spontanious, so I hope that the surprise is ok :)) dividers by @newlips or @/chechelia

A polyamorous life has many benefits. When Lucius is busy, Narcissa will have dinner with you. When Narcissa meets her friends or goes to her baking club, Lucius will take you shopping. It seemed like life was more perfect than ever with them, as part of their household. Unpredictably, or perhaps not all that unpredictably; double the partners also came with double the insecurities. They've been together for longer than you knew them, of course. It was only natural, and they understood. Still, with them being as they are; successful, rich, beautiful beyond compare, how could you find a place in their lives? What did you have to give that they didn't already have, or could get from someone else?

The late September sun rested itself in the backyard. Perhaps that was one of the biggest benefits of living at Malfoy Manor: the gardens. There were several of them, each with its own theme and story. The rose garden was the one Lucius had constructed for Narcissa when she first moved in, it was to the left of the estate. It had statues of Greek mythology throughout, with alcoves and gazebos with beautiful chairs and tables from carved wood. It fit her so well and Lucius' love for his wife was palpable when one visited the beautiful garden. They divulged that, early on, when they just moved in together and the garden was not as lush as it was now, they would put a blanket out and stargaze together. There still was a designated stargazing spot; one against a hill, with a plaque showing different constellations and their individual stars.

Your birthday came. There was just a note. That was all. A note and a slice of cake. No fanfare, no flowers, not even them.

The handwriting on the envelope curled in the way Narcissa's did, and you open it with a slightly worse tremor than normal. After a happy birthday wish, and to enjoy the slice of homemade cake, it held instructions to come out to the garden, asking for a bit of help, if it suits you, with the new plaque Lucius is getting installed in the stargazing spot. Since you know so much about plants, she trusts in your judgement with which plants will fit in both beauty and meaning. This was that pang of neglect, of feeling like you only mattered for your usefulness. It hit harder than it had before.

Growing restless after breakfast and sick of pacing the kitchen, you eventually go outside. It's a wonderful September day; windy, overcast, and sometimes a beam of sunlight hits a patch of grass or perennials. From afar you hear the cry of Lucius' peacock. Moving along the path, you admire the plants. The bushes don’t have berries anymore, but some flowers are still in bloom. The first of the leaves are turning colour, but only the first few. September is beautiful. Yet it doesn't erase that pang in your heart. Feeling unsure, not wanting to cry suddenly if you meet either of your lovers, you linger around the edges of the estate, not really making your way to the stargazing spot just yet.

Yet, you've been asked for help. How could you refuse them? The project could be fun. Even as you try thinking positively, it leaves a bitter taste. When you get to the stargazing spot, there's another envelope on the plaque, held in place by a rock. Cursive, smaller than Narcissa's. You open it, brushing some wispy hairs that fell into your face from the wind. It directs you further away from the manor, deeper into the estate. It asks you to come to the other side of the estate, the right, to take a look at the plants Lucius ordered, so you could choose between them for the stargazing spot. You frown, but do as it says anyway.

It nears dinner time when you reach the spot, as you deliberately took the scenic route there. Once you're over the hill that leads you to that side of the estate, a gleaming catches your eye. Glass. Stained glass, even, with the lead glinting like silver in the low summer sun. It looks like... You move closer, driven by curiosity this time.

A greenhouse. A large, beautiful greenhouse, stained glass above the door. The colours form your star sign, inside a circle. In the light like this, a light coloured like a kaleidoscope falls on the dirt path leading into the greenhouse. You enter, amazed by the size of the structure. The inside is filled with plants. It's nicely humid, and warm, as a greenhouse should be. Slowly, you follow the path, taking it all in. Was this what they wanted to show you? There is no other note directing you to choose from a certain set of plants, nor are your lovers waiting for you. Yet, you're certain that this building has not been here before. You loved exploring the garden, and if it had been, you definitively would have noticed. It's rather hard to miss.

Along the path are many plants, each in their own designated border, and maintained well. There are tomatoes, paprika, potatoes, onions, green beans, a few lemon trees in large pots, extending their branches up to the glass ceiling. All of them are thriving. After those follow the herbs; rosemary, lavender, mugwort, thyme, oregano, basil, mint... You rub your fingers along a twig of rosemary and smell it. Delightful. Raspberry and blackberry bushes hide near the end of the greenhouse. On a potted rose by the other entrance, a note is pinned, right beneath the largest rose; a tender salmon pink specimen. You take it off carefully, and open it. 

In Lucius' small and precise script, it reads: "We hope you like your gift. For a long time, we thought about how to make this birthday perfect for you, and we decided to gift you the joy of gardening and cultivating your own garden. Narcissa took the liberty of installing it with plants she thought you'd like, and some extra. This area is now your corner of the estate. Our home is yours as well, and now, this is a place just for yourself. You don't ask for permission regarding anything about this greenhouse or the surrounding garden. Ever yours, Narcissa & Lucius."

You press a hand to your mouth, touched as you are. A whole greenhouse... They knew how much you love plants. How much you loved herbology in school, and how many herbs you'll need for potions... So they gifted you an entire corner of the estate so you could practice your hobbies with more ease. With a tear welling up in your eye, you turn around, folding the letter again, looking around at the greenhouse with new eyes. Your two lovers are there, walking in, and you run up to them, engulfing them in the tightest of hugs.

"Well, love, do you like it?" asks Narcissa, smiling and kissing your crown. 

"Narcissa did so much for the space," says Lucius, gracefully giving his wife the credit she earnt. "Although I feel this amount of lavender also benefits her and her baking." He chuckles, and squeezes you tight.

You nod, fully in tears now. "Thank you, thank you both. This is... above anything I ever expected. It's beautiful."

Narcissa points to the stained glass above both entrances. "Those gorgeous things were Lucius' idea, though. You deserve the beauty. We love you, dearest."

"We do, so much." Lucius' voice reverberates against your chest as he pulls you to his. He cups your face, making you look up at him, his stern face now soft. "Don't ever doubt that."

[flowerishness]

Centaurea montana (bachelor's button, mountain bluet)

In late spring, the mountain bluet blooms in my front garden. I regard it as an inoffensive flower particularly attractive to insects looking for a bit of the sweet stuff on a sunny day. However, according to the Invasive Species Council of British Columbia:

"Mountain bluet is a popular garden perennial introduced from Europe; however, it easily escapes gardens and invades natural areas. This plant can self-seed, which makes it difficult to control. It also spreads through roots. Mountain bluet is found in meadows, pastures, roadsides and disturbed open areas. Mountain bluet is designated as a Management species by the BC Provincial Priority Invasive Species List."

Who knew?

[greenwitchcrafts]

Yarrow

Achillea millefolium

Known as: Allheal, angel flower, arrowroot, bloodwort, cammok, carpenter's weed, death flower, devil's mustard, Devil's nettle, eerie, field hops, gearwe, green arrow, herbe militaris, hundred leaved grass, knight's milfoil, noble yarrow, nosebleed plant, plumajilo, seven year's love, snake's grass, soldiers thousand seal., squirrel tail, stanch grass, tansy, thousand-leaf, thousand weed, woundwort, yarrowway & yerw

Related plants: Is a member of the daisy family Asteraceae that consists of over 32,000 known species of flowering plants in over 1,900 genera within it such as chamomile, coneflowers, dahlia, daisy, dandelion, goldenrod, lettuce, marigold, mugwort & sunflower

Parts used: Leaves & flowers

Habitat and Cultivation: This hardy plant is native to temperate regions of the Northern Hemisphere in Asia, Europe & North America

Plant type: Perennial

Region: 3-9

Harvest: Harvest yarrow when the blooms only when they have fully opened. It should be cut right above the leaf node to encourage the plant to potentially flower again. Many choose to harvest the flowers in the late morning when the dew has dried before so that the plant is not stressed by the extreme heat. Hot, dry spells right before bloom seems to be ideal for producing the most fragrant leaves.

Growing tips: Plant in an area that receives full sun to encourage compact growth and many flowers about 1-2 feet apart. In partial sun or shade, yarrow tends to grow leggy. Yarrow performs best in well-drained soil. It thrives in hot, dry conditions; it will not tolerate constantly wet soil. Loamy soil is recommended, but yarrow can also be grown in clay soil as long as it does not always stay saturated with water. While this plant is technically considered invasive only in noncultivated settings, common yarrow still needs to be planted in an area where you don't mind proliferation. 

Medicinal information: Yarrow has a history of being used for fever, common cold, hay fever, absence of menstruation, dysentery, diarrhea, loss of appetite, gastrointestinal (GI) tract discomfort, and to induce sweating. Some people chew the fresh leaves to relieve toothache. Yarrow is applied to the skin to stop bleeding from hemorrhoids; for wounds; and as a sitz bath for painful, lower pelvic, cramp-like conditions in women. Some people chew the fresh leaves to relieve toothache.

Cautions: Yarrow is commonly consumed in foods, but yarrow products that contain a chemical called thujone might not be safe because it is poisonous in large doses. Yarrow is not recommended for use during pregnancy or chestfeeding as it causes risks of miscarriage. Yarrow might slow blood clotting. In theory, taking yarrow might increase the risk of bleeding in people with bleeding disorders. In some people, it also might cause skin irritation & is toxic to cats & dogs.

Magickal properties

Gender: Feminine

Planet: Venus

Element: Air & Water

Deities: Achilles, Aphrodite, Cernunnos, Faeries, Oshun & Yemaya

Magickal uses:

• Add the flowers to a satchet or dream pillow to encourage prophetic dreams

• Hang a bundle above your bed on your honeymoon night to ensure lasting love for 7 years

• Place across your thresholds or plant near doorwaysto prevent negative energies & influences from entering your home

• Burn as an incense before or during divination to increase psychic abilities

• Wear as an amulet to attract love, friendships & give courage

• Place yarrow under your pillow & if you dreamt of your love, it was a positive omen. If you had a bad dream, or dreamt of other people, it wasn’t

• Combine with mugwort as tea to drink before divination to increase psychic powers

• Put near yourself while practicing divination to increase your psychic abilities

• In spells, use to re-establish contact with long-lost friends or relatives & attract their attention

• Braid into your hair to tap into inner wisdom

• The I-Ching divination was originally performed with dried yarrow stems

• Wash crystals& crystal balls with a yarrow rinse to bring about clarity of vision

• Drink yarrow tea & a cinnamon stick to  release hidden truths

• Place on a coffin or grave to help the spirit cross over/ let go

•For powerful protection, pick yarrow flowers and charge them in the sun. Once charged, take the flowers and sprinkle them outside your home to prevent negative influences and energies away from entering your home

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

The Encyclopedia of Natural Magic by John Michael Greer

Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer

Plant Witchery by Juliet Diaz

A Compendium of Herbal Magick by Paul Beyerl

The Herbal Alchemist Handbook by Karen Harrison

The Book of Flower Spells by Cheralyn Darcey

[vandaliatraveler]

Hazy mid-summer day on the Sods, Part 1.

Photos are from the South Prong Trail, heading towards Roaring Plains. The pine barrens death camas (Stenanthium leimanthoides) growing in the bogs and seeps of the Plains is simply stunning this year. Such a toxic little beauty - death incarnate. Also, the mountain angelica (Angelica triquinata) is getting ready to bloom - I think of this tall, Appalachian endemic as the mid to late summer counterpart of cow parsnip. And how about that fabulous orange-fringed orchid (Platanthera ciliaris), which is just now reaching peak bloom in our high-elevation mountain bogs? The showy perennial is more commonly referred to as yellow-fringed orchid, but I have no clue why; every plant I've found in this neck of the woods has a hue similar to a Sunkist navel orange.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Cold Winter Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 凛冬之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Translation under the cut]

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

[anika’s notes]: I do very very very highly recommend to watch the video for full immersion + absolute god-level voice acting + the gorgeous music pieces!!! ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

—

【Prologue】

I behold  My homeland disappear in the daylight, and emerge in the night.  I behold  The everlasting power engrain within the vast blood of my people.  I behold  A snow-white rose bloom in the winter,   And I behold as it withers in the winter – each petal sailing across the ocean,  To a kingdom no one can reach. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 1】

As the night gradually deepens, the heavy curtains in front of the window are drawn by the attendants, veiling the silvery, meandering moonlight. 

I take a deep breath and push open the doors to the royal bedchamber engraved with a luxurious imperial coat of arms. 

Inside the bedchamber, my newly wedded husband, King Victor, is fast asleep. 

Not long ago, at the behest of my father, Duke William, I was betrothed to Victor.  

Regrettably, before the ceremony could be held, my parents died of ailing health. 

However, the wedding was not delayed due to the unexpected tragedy, and the ceremony proceeded as scheduled, with the Church as witness. 

After all, to those people, what mattered the most was not the protagonists of the wedding, but the wedding ceremony itself. 

–– That’s right, it’s not just me; even the king, Victor, is not held with significance in their eyes. 

After all, it’s known to everyone in the capital that the royal family’s influence is eroding with each passing year. And since Victor succeeded to the throne, he remains in a coma all year round and is merely a puppet in the hands of the Church and nothing more. 

The elusive fragrance of beeswax pervades the air in the room. I step on the soft woolen carpet and draw closer to the bedside. [1] 

Lately, the capital has been shrouded in a haze of doubts and suspicion regarding the disappearance cases, and it was not the appropriate time for grandeur. Therefore, after the hasty wedding, I was ushered into the imperial palace. 

And tonight marks the third night I’m spending alongside His Majesty, the King, who’s been in a state of perennial coma. 

Victor is still in a deep slumber. 

The light from a few candles illuminates one side of his profound features, while the lingering shadows dance across his face as if with fondness. 

Throughout the generations, the kings have always been in robust health. But during Victor’s reign, his health has been continuously plagued with illness. 

It seems even the gods cannot bear to be too cruel to him. His illness has only brought a touch of frailty but has not marred his looks. 

I inhale softly and sit on the edge of the bed, propping my chin up as I gaze at Victor in his slumber. 

MC: ...why are you still sleeping? 

I’ve already started to grow accustomed to this— the bedchamber echoing only my own whispered monologues. 

MC: I thought the Church was so wary of you because you had some secrets that were unknown to the outsiders.

MC: Now it seems your biggest secret is that you were born this good-looking. 

I crack a joke to myself, which also lightens my mood considerably. 

MC: When I think about it this way, being married to you is far better than being forced by the Church to marry one of those evil, rotten old men. 

In addition, within the palace, at least, there are no hypocritical relatives and those ever-watchful eyes— 

I have enough space to contemplate my plan for revenge. 

MC: Revenge... revenge...  MC: But how can I go about taking revenge on the Church... 

Clutching a corner of Victor’s blanket, I cover my face with it in anguish. 

The Church conspired to murder my parents. 

Because my father was a leader of the reformist faction, they extended their malicious hands targeting my family. 

And this marriage, which was arranged by my parents, is now being wielded as a means to threaten my life. 

As I ponder on this, the resentment in my heart swells. I heave a sigh, deciding to change my mood and say something interesting. 

I sporadically recount some happy and entertaining anecdotes from the past, treating Victor as a well-behaved “sleeping beauty doll.��

MC: ...in autumn, you know, there wasn’t much to do. Winter, in comparison, was way more fun.  MC: When I was young, what I loved doing the most was building little snowmen in the courtyard of the duke’s mansion after it snowed. Look, I could make them this big— 

Of course, Victor can’t see any of this, and there’s no hope for a response either. After mustering the spirit to prattle on for a while, all I am left with is endless emptiness. 

I tug at the corners of my lips, forcing a smile, and as if driven by some strange impulse, I reach out and poke Victor’s face, wishing to get him to have the same expression as me. 

MC: Sigh, it’s no fun. I won’t say anything more.  ??(Victor): Why won’t you say anything more? 

An icy voice suddenly sounds in my ears, carrying with it the raspiness of just being awakened. 

I turn my head and nearly let out a scream. 

MC: Y-Your Majesty... when did you...! [2] 

I’m not sure when, but Victor has regained consciousness at some point. Leaning on a soft pillow, he rubs his temple with one hand.

Victor: I’m conscious, not revived back to life. 

MC: ... I’ll sincerely obey Your Majesty’s command! 

In a low voice, I respectfully offer him a curtsy. Victor seems to find my behavior amusing, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Victor: The term of address was “you” even just a moment ago. A certain someone changed her tune rather quickly. [3]    MC: I’m not “a certain someone,” I am...    Victor: I know, Duke William’s only daughter.    MC: [surprised] Eh...? 

Victor: At the age of seven, you received a scolding for building a snowman with the servants. When you were nine, you had a quarrel with a parrot and suffered a crushing defeat–– 

MC: Wait a minute, you... you heard all of that? 

Victor: You’re too noisy. It’d be hard not to hear, [breaks into a coughing fit] cough, cough... 

His words are cut off by a cough. I hastily pour a cup of water and offer it to him under his scrutinizing gaze, keeping silent. 

I can’t help but break into a cold sweat. 

Could it be that... all the past events I casually mentioned, all those self-deprecating remarks, and even... did he really listen to everything? 

But, two days ago, when I plucked up the courage to poke his face, he didn’t react at all... So, when did he actually become conscious? 

A vague, looming sense of oppression involuntarily makes me shrink my neck, and I tentatively open my mouth. 

MC: ...you know about everything regarding me? 

He tilts his jaw slightly upwards, studying my features. His eyes are submerged in the shadows cast by the candlelight, reminiscent of a predator in the dark night. 

A good while passes before he eventually accepts the cup, speaking in a tone that is neither amiable nor impassive. 

Victor: I do. 

I nod and, after a rapid mental calculation, make up my mind. I take a step forward, wearing a small smile on my face as I speak. 

MC: Including the fact that I was sent as a spy by the Church? 

Victor: [seemingly chokes on water] … 

Victor: Are you aware of what you’re saying?

MC: Yes, I’m aware. 

I wish to work together with the king to bring down the Church. 

And when working with a person like Victor, being transparent and honest is the first principle.

I crouch down at the edge of the bed, looking up at Victor from below. 

MC: Your Majesty, I don’t want to hide anything from you. 

MC: Prior to our nuptials, my parents were brutally attacked by the Church due to their advocacy for the reformation of the Church. 

MC: The Church, to exploit my worth, spared my life and assigned me to spy on you. 

Victor arches an eyebrow, clearly still assessing the credibility of my words. 

Victor: Continue. 

I press my lips together and lower my head, trying to convey my utmost sincerity. 

MC: ... I’m unsure of to what extent you know about me, but I’ve never once considered surrendering to the enemies who murdered my parents. 

MC: Now, in terms of both sentiment and reason, we are a family, and I cannot betray my husband. 

MC: So... Your Majesty, will you take me under your wings? 

I blink my eyes at him with a pitiful look, not knowing whether Victor would buy into it. 

Victor: … 

As if in need of a moment to compose himself, Victor seems to momentarily avert his eyes before he turns them back to me again. 

Victor: Family... you seem to have accepted your new identity quite readily. 

MC: Besides you, what else do I have to rely on? 

MC: On the contrary, even after hearing my confession, if you’re unwilling to help me, I don’t have anything to lose. 

I flutter my eyes at Victor. 

MC: Your Majesty, I’ve already got nothing left to lose. 

Victor holds a straight gaze on me. In his eyes, while there is finally a hint of recognition, it’s more as if he is peering into the past through me. 

Victor: ...I will help you. 

His well-defined hand sweeps my loose hair strands back for me. But before I can breathe a sigh of relief, the next second, my chin is cupped and pivoted to face him. 

Victor: The prerequisite is that you can offer sufficient value to me. 

His grip is surprisingly strong for someone who has just regained consciousness. As our eyes interlock, his penetrating gaze intently scrutinizes my innermost thoughts. 

Victor: In your eyes, your husband, whom you’d never met before, is nothing more than a puppet who remains in coma year-round, isn’t that right? 

Victor unfolds his hand to me, revealing a gem as vividly red as the human heart in his pallid palm, and then he encloses his hand— 

In the blink of an eye, the signs of illness are shed off his face, and a rosy hue colors his cheeks, and he seems to be bathed in a divine light. 

MC: This is... do you know witchcraft?! 

Victor places the gem back in its case, then casts a brief look in my direction, apparently turning a deaf ear to what I’ve said. 

Victor: This doesn’t concern you. 

He slowly curls his lips, and his pupils, akin to the deep sea in the darkness, are as profound and enigmatic. 

Victor: There’s a set of clothing on the bedside table. If you want to prove that you’re not just a noble canary— 

Victor: Tomorrow morning, change into it and accompany me out of the palace. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[1] Beeswax is often considered a symbol of “eternal love” in Eastern cultures. 

[2+3] During her monologues in the 1st quarter of the date, MC was addressing Victor by “你” (informal ver. of ‘you’) pronoun. But the moment he butts in, i.e., gains consciousness, MC immediately switches to “您” (courteous/ respectful ver. of ‘you’) and the respectful address “Your Majesty,” which he teases her about here, haha. 

Point to be noted: MC doesn’t switch back to the informal terms of addresses until the 3rd chapter of the date, when they’re already in love and inseparable for the time being. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ 

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【Chapter 2】

While I’m still struggling with myself, Victor has already closed his eyes again. 

Victor: You can sleep anywhere you want; just don’t make any noise. 

MC: ...Yes, Your Majesty! 

The idea of having this mysterious and aloof king sleeping next to my pillow feels more chilling to me than freezing in the cold itself. 

I don’t hesitate at all. I swiftly grab a pillow from the bed and get prepared to spend the night on the sofa. 

But it turns out I actually overestimated my ability to withstand the cold. Before the clock hands have even moved a few notches, I quietly tiptoe back to the bed, hugging the pillow. 

MC: [to herself] It’s just that the weather is too cold. I just want to feel a bit nice and warm— 

With a huff, I murmur in a soft voice and gently lift the coverlet to slip inside. 

Once I’ve got my body settled comfortably, I cautiously look towards the person on the pillow next to me. 

Victor isn’t awakened by my movements. Even in the darkness of the night, his skin is luminously white, his features handsome— he is reminiscent of a sculpture crafted from snow. 

Considering this person’s track record of feigning sleep, I simply watch him quietly without making any more rash moves. 

As I continue watching like this, my mind inexplicably begins to wander. 

Although just moments ago, I kept addressing him as “my husband” repeatedly, when I look at Victor’s cold and handsome demeanor, I always find it difficult to connect him with that identity. 

In my impression, the image of a husband and wife is like that of my parents. So, in the future, will Victor and I also be joined at the hip and inseparable like that? 

Thinking about that reserved and unsmiling face, I can’t help but get chills. 

In his eyes, I seem to be nothing more than a “useful person.” But what value can I provide for him? 

The more I ponder, the more my head throbs, and it’s not until the horizon starts to turn slightly pale that I eventually drift into sleep. 

────────── 

With the break of dawn, I promptly get out of bed and change my attire. Victor has woken up as well. 

Seemingly noticing the dark circles under my eyes, he arches an eyebrow, lifts his hand, and tosses a cloak over to me. 

Victor: It seems like while your courage is not at all small, your confidence sure is lacking. 

MC: I just don’t wish to unnecessarily show off in front of you. 

I fasten the cloak tightly and purposely straighten my neck. 

MC: Your Majesty, please lead the way. 

We exit the palace through a small gate, cross through the commoner’s district, and Victor leads me straight into a small house. 

────────── 

Going from the small house into the cellar, and after navigating through a labyrinth of winding pathways, the cramped field of view suddenly opens up to a wide panorama. 

Everyone: Your Majesties. 

I never anticipated that the entire hall would actually be filled with guards, all standing in a perfectly ordered formation. 

— To pull together an assembly of so many armed personnel, Victor must have spent a substantial amount of time, hasn’t he? 

I’m hardly able to restrain my inner shock as I think back to the frequent news in recent years of nobles associated with the close-knit sects being removed from power or inexplicably meeting tragic ends. Now, it seems... 

Every single person, myself included, severely underestimated this “dying” king standing before me. 

At this moment, Victor picks something up from the long table, and it’s only now do I notice that there are all kinds of torture equipment laid out on the table. 

The appearance of these torture instruments is menacing, and at their tips, dried blood remnants are still visible. 

Practically, the moment I get a good look at them, the reeking of blood and rust assaults my nostrils. I subconsciously cover my nose and mouth, tightly gripping the cuff of my sleeve. 

Subordinate: Reporting to Your Majesty, these are the “refining” equipment we found at the scene. 

Subordinate: But those people are as cautious as rats at dusk; we’ve only found these pieces of material evidence so far. The remains of the blood sacrifice are still being sought. 

Victor nods calmly, and once the arrangements are made, the guards depart in an orderly manner through various secret passageways. 

Victor and I are the only ones remaining in the large hall. I make a conscious effort to restrain myself from looking at those torture instruments, regulating the rhythm of my breathing. 

MC: Your Majesty, did you bring me here to witness something so horrifying to disclose some kind of truth to me? 

Victor: Face has turned pale, but still got some courage. 

A smile tinged with what appears to be praise appears on his face, as he takes out from his bosom the gem that resembles a human heart from last night. 

The crimson light radiating from the gem spreads across his cheeks, eerie yet bewitching. 

Victor: The purpose of all these blood sacrifices is to provide energy for this “Blood King Crystal.” 

My eyes widen in incredulity as I stare at the pulsating vivid red in his hand, sensing a faint inkling of what it might signify. 

MC: When you hold this Blood King Crystal, your complexion appear rosier, and you don’t cough as much... 

MC: Could it be that the Church officials want to extract energy from commoners to enhance their physical strength? 

Victor: Not the Church; it’s the Royal Family. 

Victor doesn’t shy away from nodding his head. He stares fixedly at the red gem that provides him with strength, but in his eyes, there is only icy coldness. 

Victor: The vitality and longevity of successive kings across the dynasties were all due to their possession of the “Blood King Crystals” that were assembled from the lives of countless ordinary people. 

Victor: The Church refines it, and the Royal Family uses it, thus resulting in the Royal Family being controlled by the Church from then on. 

Victor: And anyone who uncovers this secret will die. 

My thoughts go back to my parents, as well as the reformist cabinet ministers— could it be that they all had...? 

My heart immediately falls into a valley. 

I close my eyes for a moment, then fix my gaze firmly on the unwavering king before me, a king who has endured extreme hardships and made sacrifices to stand where he is now. [4] 

MC: Your Majesty, currently, there is a significant following of the Church among the populace. We must find the evidence of the blood sacrifices and bring it to light for everyone to see. 

MC: I will carry on my parents’ legacy and work alongside you to find evidence of the Church’s blood sacrifices. 

In those forever serene eyes of Victor’s, I see the glint of a smile. 

Victor: [assuredly with obvious happiness] It appears you’ve perfectly inherited the chivalry and wisdom of Duke William. 

MC: Well... it’s not entirely that. Whether in public or private matters, it’s only right that I stand by your side. 

I wink at him, half-jokingly breaking the somewhat somber atmosphere. 

MC: After all, I’m not only the daughter of Duke William. I am your wife and, more importantly, the queen of this country. 

Victor: Is that right? It doesn’t seem to me that a certain someone possesses the temperament of a queen. 

MC: Regarding that... I will work hard, so you can’t keep teasing me all the time. 

Victor laughs in spite of himself and reaches out his hand, gesturing for me to take his arm. 

Victor: [laughs helplessly] Very well. My Queen, we should return now. 

────────── 

After coming out of the subterranean passageway, we follow the same path back. We were in a hurry when we came here. It’s only now do I take notice of the surroundings. 

In the nearby roadside, peddlers are selling fresh produce, while in the distant square, a group of less fortunate are circled around a fire, warming themselves and singing songs. 

The streets in the commoner’s district are intersected, narrow, poverty-stricken yet bustling with life, in stark contrast to the overwhelming dead silence of the royal palace. 

I hardly ever left the mansion, so I find myself unable to resist taking in the surroundings repeatedly. 

Victor: Does the Duke’s daughter find these things interesting? 

MC: ...no, no, I’m just looking around in passing, that’s all! 

Victor’s hand offhandedly adjusts a corner of my cloak. He takes a long stride, veering from the route back to the palace and heading in a different direction. 

Victor: That path is too narrow. Let’s stroll this way and get some fresh air. 

We slowly stroll along, taking in the surroundings as we walk. Not far ahead, there is a dilapidated small tavern. Victor gestures for me to take a look. 

Victor: I just suddenly recalled that you mentioned being curious when you were little and licking the snow with a fork. 

Victor: During winter, the iron cups in the tavern also have an element of sweetness. You should try it some other time. 

My scattered thoughts, fluttering around like wild and untamed grass, suddenly drop to the ground, and I can’t help but choke. 

MC: ...Your Majesty, are you teasing me? 

There is a slight curve at the tip of Victor’s brow as he gently curls the corners of his lips into a smile. 

Victor: [laughs softly] Perhaps I am, or perhaps, it is a sincere recommendation. 

MC: Could it be that you’ve drawn that conclusion after experiencing it firsthand? 

Victor: You could say that. 

Seeing him take the bait, a massive smile spreads across my face. 

MC: So, speaking of, does that mean that you’ve also stuck your tongue to an iron cup in the past? 

Victor seems to choke on his words for a moment. He shoots me a wordless look and walks forward, paying no mind to me. 

MC: [teasingly continues] So, did that really happen? Did it happen or not... 

We’ve almost circled the area surrounding the palace. Victor is tall and has long legs, but from the beginning, he has maintained a matching pace with me, making it so that I can always touch his shoulder by simply turning sideways. 

The weather is very cold today; my hands and feet are freezing, yet I deeply breathe in the bitingly chilly but liberating air. 

Even though I cannot purchase any dubious items to bring back to the palace, and even though I know the end of this path leads to the imperial palace that holds me captive— 

But perhaps because I have someone walking alongside me, I feel surprisingly at ease. 

In my sight, obscured by the chilling breeze, I see Victor squatting down and petting a skinny kitten at the corner of the alley. 

The cat stretches its body and lays down lazily under Victor’s hand, meowing. Victor smiles, and both of them then look at me together. 

Victor: [extremely softly] The winters in the future won’t be as chilling anymore. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[4] The idiom used here is “越王勾践,” which came to life from the true story of King Goujian. I’d encourage you guys to just even google and see the small wiki on him if you can. This idiom in and of itself is the essence of the date in terms of Victor’s perseverance, and how he imposes suffering on himself for the constant reminder of what it is he’s fighting for by refusing to use the “Blood King Crystal.” 

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【Chapter 3】

Victor soon announces the news of him regaining consciousness to the masses, sending waves of shock to everyone across the country. 

Amidst the reigning turmoil among the Church and the nobles, he proposes visiting the prominent noble households. 

In my capacity as the queen, I rightfully visit every noble residence with him, where we find numerous correspondences implicating the collusion between the nobles and the Church. 

The nobles kept the letters for the purpose of blackmailing the Church, both sides engaging in mutual exploitation, but they never once considered that there could be one day when they’d have to face the consequences. 

Using the letters as a starting point, a series of pivotal evidence regarding the Church’s blood sacrifice is unearthed through Victor’s thunderous methods. 

I, on the other hand, use my identity as an orphan of the reformers to help him win over the newly elevated nobles. More and more people begin to rally to our side... 

When a former subordinate of my father hands me a letter, as if in tacit agreement, both Victor and I simultaneously realize that the final piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. 

It’s about time for the verdict to be pronounced. 

────────── 

Tomorrow, Victor will convene a National Convention to expose the crimes of the Church to the masses. 

I can’t fall asleep, so I rise from the bed and pace around the bed chamber in my nightgown. 

Victor: [laughs helplessly] If memory serves me right, the person set to address tomorrow is not the queen; it’s the king. 

He is lying in bed with drowsy eyes. Turning towards me, he speaks in a low, raspy voice, infused with a teasing tone. 

MC: ...I didn’t realize I’d wake you up despite the carpet being so thick. I guess I’ll just go outside and sleep elsewhere. 

As I drape on my outer garment and am about to head outside the chamber, my wrist is suddenly gripped from behind, pulling me back onto the bed. 

Victor: [in an overwhelmingly sensual tone] You’re the queen. Where do you plan on sleeping when you look like this? 

Tangled up in my thoughts, I have tousled my hair, causing it to become disheveled. Victor sighs, who then picks up a comb and sits behind me. 

Victor: [switches to an overwhelmingly tender tone] Dummy. What is there to be nervous about? 

The moderate pressure on my hair pacifies my restless heart. I rub my ears, which have heated up, trying to shift the topic of conversation to conceal my shyness. 

MC: In the past, when my father would go to visit the king, my mother would become anxious like this and often wouldn’t even be able to eat anything. 

Victor: So, what would happen next? I’m afraid the duke probably wouldn’t let his duchess remain in a constant state of worry. 

MC: Mm-hmm. Whenever this kind of situation arose, my father would always hold my mother’s hand... 

As I speak, I immediately begin to regret it a little. It feels like I’m sending a rather awkward hint. 

Without waiting for me to dwell on more embarrassing thoughts, Victor’s hand has already enveloped mine, and the warmth from his palm flows to my icy fingertips. 

His temperature is reminiscent of dandelions in a garden, floating gently, landing on my face and neck. 

We are the puppet king and queen, husband and wife in name only. Even though we reside together in the same bedchamber, we’ve never been this intimate. 

I feel a sensation as if a feather quill is caressing my throat, making it impossible for me to conceal the true feelings harbored in my heart. 

Reflexively, I tighten my grip on Victor’s hand and turn to face him. 

MC: Victor, to be honest, even though I never mentioned it before, I used to think you were quite unfeeling. 

Victor: There was no need to say it; it was written all over your face. 

Victor: Also, not addressing me as “Your Majesty” anymore? 

MC: In any case, you are not going to hold it against me now, will you? 

MC: During this period of time that I’ve spent with you, running here and there together, I’ve come to realize in every passing moment that I hardly knew anything about you before. 

MC: For instance, in the case of those Church henchmen, according to the old laws, their families should have been exterminated, but you chose to exercise your discretion and grant amnesty to those who were unaware. 

MC: And regarding the commoners who have fallen victim to the blood sacrifice, you’ve been supporting their families with long-term financial aid. 

MC: You always project an image of keeping people at a thousand-mile distance, but in reality, there is also a tender side to you. 

A flicker of astonishment crosses Victor’s eyes, but he simply tightens his grip on my hand. 

Victor: [with a very evident hesitation in his tone] It sounds like... getting to know me is something that brings you joy? 

MC: Yes, it does. I wish to know you even better— the past you, the present you, and the future you. 

I gaze deeply into his eyes. 

MC: But you’re so encumbered by everything. I can only utilize the little time you set aside for me each day to learn about you amidst the calls of the people. 

Victor: ...MC. 

Victor’s eyes tighten, and a heartfelt and regretful emotion swirls within them. 

MC: I don’t wish to rob you of your time because of my selfish desires. 

MC: So, after the National Convention concludes, and when you’re no longer so busy... 

I draw in a breath, low and slow. And like that, just like the first time I met him, I lay bare all my yearnings and affections before him. 

MC: Reserve some time for me, will you? Not in your role as the king, but as my husband. Share your stories with me. 

MC: Will you, Victor? 

All my thoughts translate into clumsy words, pouring out like the way winter grass eagerly awaits spring rain, confessing everything I have in me. 

Victor continues gazing at me like this, until that gaze of his becomes infused with almost sorrow and a reluctance to part. 

Before I can decipher those cryptic code words, he has already cast his eyes downward, veiling the emotions within. 

Is this a silent rejection? I exert myself to force a smile, intending to crack a joke to ease the situation, but then he speaks first. 

Victor: [if a person’s voice alone could shatter one’s heart, I swear this would be it] There’s no need to wait till later. Let’s do it now. 

In astonishment and jubilation, I look up, locking eyes with his sincere gaze. 

On the night before the pivotal moment in destiny, I finally witness Victor’s wordless confession. 

────────── 

The following day, the National Convention proceeds as scheduled. 

Attired in royal robes, Victor stands at the forefront. Below the platform, countless eyes, some treacherous and others devout, are all converged on him. 

Victor: In my capacity as the king, I stand here only to declare one thing. 

Victor: The mysterious disappearances in the capital over the years have all been caused by the Church. 

The earth-shattering statement stirs up a commotion among the people, and the followers of the Church appear visibly unsettled. 

Victor: The Church extracts energy for the “Blood King Crystal” through the massacre of civilians in blood sacrifice rituals. 

Victor: As for the particulars, I will leave it to the Knight Commander to elucidate. 

The attendants toss numerous sheets of paper into the crowd off the platform, each containing records of clear and unmistakable evidence. 

In a matter of moments, the crowd transitions from initial silence to restlessness, ultimately erupting into an agitated uproar. 

It turns out that the matter of the true culprit behind the disappearance cases has been an enduring emotional anchor for the people, completely overturning everyone’s cognition. 

Some hurling curses, some wailing, and some even charging to express their scorn at the Church... 

Amidst the chaos, only Victor’s voice, his calm and powerful words, continues forward with a steady resolve. 

Crowd: Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! 

As the chants and shouts cease and amid the furious uproar of the crowd, the Pope, who is ringed, calmly casts a glance in Victor’s direction. 

The Pope: Silence. Dear Compatriots. 

The elderly Pope walks slowly to the center of the platform, an inscrutable and chilling smile playing on the layers of wrinkles on his face. 

The Pope: His Majesty speaks the truth. The Church does indeed extract energy for the “Blood King Crystal,” and the blood sacrifice of civilians has truly occurred. 

The Pope: However, all these casualties and deaths stemmed from the demands of the royal family! 

The Pope: Throughout history, every king has relied on the “Blood King Crystal” to survive, and even our righteous and dignified king, His Majesty, is using it at this very moment! 

The Pope: The very purpose of the “Blood King Crystal’s” existence is to secure the longevity of the king. Without a king, who will lead the country? How can the kingdom have a future? 

The Pope raises the scepter high, directing it towards Victor. 

The Pope: Your Majesty, the Church has been faithful and devoted to the Crown for all these years. As you pronounce judgment on the Church’s sins today, do you not feel a sense of guilt? 

The wrath of the masses below the platform has no outlet after his manipulative and distorted speech, and their eyes shift to Victor. 

Silent inquiries and judgments flood the eyes of the crowd, prepared to tear everything to shreds at any second. 

The noble king, however, has maintained his impassive demeanor from the beginning. He lapses into a moment of silence, gazing into my eyes. 

Amid the scrutiny of the spectators below, I lock my eyes with him, and in that gaze, I see the very same expression of unwillingness to part that I wasn’t able to discern last night. 

But at this moment, I seem to understand its meaning. 

Holding back the bitterness in my eyes, I take a step forward and speak in a loud voice. 

MC: What the Pope said is true. The kings of the previous dynasties colluded with the Church for their personal gains, resulting in the slaughtering of civilians. 

MC: However, the Blood King Crystal has never been a precious treasure, but rather a curse. 

MC: As each king became more reliant on it, the health of the royal descendants suffered increasing repercussions, which led to an even deeper dependence on the Church. 

MC: His Majesty has been working tirelessly to put an end to these nefarious activities, solely for the sake of the future of this country. 

MC: As for the Blood King Crystal... 

I close my eyes, my eloquent speech coming to an abrupt halt. This elicits puzzled murmurs from the crowd off the platform.  

At this time, Victor walks to the forefront of the stage. 

He retrieves the vivid red gem from his bosom, and the blinding luster falls on his chest, projecting an image as if blood were coursing through. 

Victor: Behold, the Blood King Crystal. 

Before anyone can comprehend, Victor swiftly exerts a slight force with his fingertips, and the Blood King Crystal instantly disintegrates into fine fragments in his hand. 

Pope: You...!! 

Countless crimson red powder, reminiscent of blood, streams out from between his fingers, and his complexion has already turned a shade of pallor. 

The elixir of immortality, amassed from the sacrifice of countless human lives across generations of kings, the venomous sac upon which the Church depends for survival, has been completely eradicated before the eyes of everyone. 

Victor: Those deserving of being brought to reckoning, not a single person will be spared. 

Victor: That includes the Church, as well as the Royal family. 

He unfurls the hand that holds the Blood King Crystal. His palm now only holds a thin layer of gemstone powder, and he allows it to be carried away by the northern breeze. 

Victor: Henceforth, dust will return to the earth, and blood will be bestowed upon the people. 

Victor: I shall personally redeem the filth that has accumulated for far too long. 

—

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【Chapter 4】

In the wake of the National Convention, Victor instigates a series of reform policies to root out corruption, setting off a massive surge across the country. 

He works tirelessly day and night, paying no heed to my attempts to dissuade him. There is an urgency in him that I don’t want to understand, a rush that drives him to get everything in order. 

Throughout this time, I’ve been seeking out renowned physicians from everywhere, but all I’ve received are negative answers filled with a mix of dread and despair. 

Until one day, he slips back into a coma again, and even the duration of his coma seems to be stretching longer and longer as the days elapse. 

And all I can do, or more accurately, want to do, is simply to remain by his side. 

With his eyelashes hanging low, a gentle shadow falls upon that beautiful yet pallid face, and it seems even his breathing has become very light. 

As I gaze at Victor’s side profile in deep slumber, I can no longer find the same relaxed and carefree state of mind I had when I first stepped into the royal bedchamber. 

He is no longer someone who could have confined me, the husband I had never met before, but rather my beloved with whom I have been through thick and thin together. 

My only wish is for him to open his eyes and look at me, share some dry jokes, and then walk with me through the streets and alleys again and observe how people are living nowadays... 

Victor’s life began wither away the instant the Blood King Crystal was shattered. All he can do now is expend every ounce of the remaining warmth. 

He knew the consequences better than anyone else, yet he still orchestrated his own ending with his own two hands. 

I remain by the bedside, tightly holding onto his hand. I can’t tell whether I’m trying to comfort him or myself. 

MC: [sobbing] Victor... 

Tears well up and stream down my eyes. A hand reaches up to caress my cheek, gently wiping away those tears. 

Victor: Why are you crying? 

Victor has woken up at some point without my notice and is now frowning as he looks at me. 

Quickly, I wipe away the tears in a haphazard manner, the corners of my eyes stinging from the abrasion of my forceful fingertips. 

MC: I’m alright. Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? 

Victor doesn’t answer. Instead, his gaze passes over my shoulder and settles on the view outside the window. 

Victor: It’s snowing. 

It’s only now do I take notice that the imperial palace courtyard has already been blanketed in snow, transforming into an expanse of pristine white. 

Victor: Weren’t you most fond of building snowmen when you were a child? Why not give it a try now? 

MC: But your health... 

Victor: [in an even tender and heart-wrenchingly weaker tone] It’s just building a snowman. 

I press my lips together. The truth is, I have long grown to despise winter, and I don’t like building snowmen anymore. 

After the death of my parents, the attendants who had been my companions from childhood to adulthood were all substituted with the informants from the Church, and the duke’s mansion became eerily cold and desolate. 

The winter season I once loved became increasingly colder as time went on, and I no longer had the desire to go out. Warmer seasons began to become more likable to me. 

But none of these are worth mentioning to Victor. Because this winter— it is marked by the moment I met him. 

I nod. 

MC: Of course. 

MC: In that case, I must show you the snowmen-building skills I’ve honed since childhood! 

I force a smile and step outside with Victor after donning our outer garments. He tucks my hand into his cloak. 

Victor: A certain someone was shivering in the cold during the last outing, and she still forgot to bring her gloves this time. 

MC: I did it intentionally. Otherwise, how could I get Your Majesty to help warm my hands? 

With this said, I slip my chin into my cloak, and the smile at the corner of my mouth instantly fades away. 

Victor’s hand is much colder than mine. Taking a deep breath, I grip his hand even tighter, and together, we step into this pure white world. 

────────── 

The chilly breeze howls as Victor and I tread through the snow, neither of us uttering a word. [5] 

Reminiscent of a wanderer losing its way, the mist hangs over the frigid ground and eventually dissipates into the pale grayish expanse above. 

Victor suddenly loosens his hold on my hand. 

Victor: Didn’t you want to showcase your skills to me? Why aren’t you going yet? 

I cast a brief glance at the mounds of snow under the trees, nod in silence, and reluctantly let go of his hand despite my heart breaking. [6] 

MC: Well, Your Majesty, please wait for just a short while. 

I tighten Victor’s cloak for him, then dash to the snowdrifts and begin building a snowman. 

My hands move at a blazing pace. There is only a single thought circling in my mind right now, and that is to swiftly end this time-wasting game and return to his side as fast as possible. 

To add to my woes, the newly fallen snow proves challenging to shape, much like bleached wool. Despite my vigorous efforts to press the snow together time and again, the snowballs continue to fall apart, each and every time. 

A mix of vexation and restlessness churns in my heart. I have nearly exhausted all the strength left in my body to mold the snowballs, and both my hands are now aching from the cold. 

Victor: [with endless helplessness] Dummy, no one is competing with you for first place. There’s no need to be in such a rush. 

Subconsciously, I pause in my movements, turn my head, and find him gazing at me with a serene expression. 

The urgency and anxiety in my heart seem to find equilibrium, and my hands unconsciously settle into a steadier motion. 

Regrettably, the snowman I end up crafting doesn’t even qualify to be described as “adorable.” Even so, Victor earnestly lowers his head, observing it with the bearing of a connoisseur appreciating a gem. 

Victor: To create this shape without it falling apart is indeed a testament to skill. 

His teasing remark elicits a chuckle from me. I pick up a twig and walk over to him. 

MC: There’s still one last step, but it requires Your Majesty and me to complete it together. 

Placing the twig in his hand, I then hold onto his hand, and together, we draw eyes and a mouth on the snowman’s face. 

Victor chuckles softly, and conversely, he grasps my hand, guiding it to make strokes. 

Victor: You’re holding so tightly; its eyes are all crooked now. 

Looking at the snowman with its enlarged eyes due to our modifications, I’m just about to crack a few jokes when I notice a touch of weariness on Victor’s face. 

MC: We’ve almost completed the snowman. Would you like to rest for a while? 

Victor: I know a tavern. Come with me. 

We’ve arrived at the alley where we met that kitten before. It has undergone a complete transformation, and the newly opened tavern is bustling with patrons. 

It’s a snowy day, and the tavern is filled to capacity. I initially thought that there would be no seats available. However, the owner leads us straight into a room. 

MC: Huh? Did you reserve the room with the owner in advance? But you weren’t... 

Victor brushes away the snowflakes off my head, seeing through my puzzlement. 

Victor: I arranged it in advance, yes. 

Victor: Since I didn’t know when I would be awake, I told the owner beforehand that I would have this room reserved for as long as it snows. 

The fire in the hearth produces a crackling sound. Victor’s facial features are enveloped in the cloud of heat, his eyes gentle. 

Victor: I just thought that one day, I would take you out to see the snow. 

We sit on the terrace, sipping the warm wine. Amidst the aroma of wine wafting in the air, he speaks in a soft tone. 

Victor: I did stick my tongue to a cup in the past. It happened when I was five years old and had a taste of my father, the king’s red wine in secret. My mother, the queen, had gotten quite the shock. 

MC: Eh? What are you talking about... 

Victor: Dummy, aren’t you always clamoring about wanting to hear my stories? 

He says it as if it were the most natural thing, as if this were merely an ordinary winter day, as if we were an ordinary married couple offhandedly conversing about our everyday life while enjoying a drink and keeping ourselves warm by the fire. 

The north breeze makes my eyes sting, but I still force myself to smile as I look at him. 

MC: So, it turns out that His Majesty was a dummy, too, when he was five years old. How about when you were six? What was it like? 

Victor: When I was six... 

In the back-and-forth questions and answers, more than twenty years of Victor’s life have become etched in my mind. 

I dare not listen. I can’t help but feel as if once I’ve heard everything, he will leave me. And yet, I listen carefully to every single word. 

I listen to the way he speaks each word— the way his teeth collide, the way his two lips meet, the way the nuances of his trailing notes alter between closing and releasing. 

Victor: Next, it’s the day when I got married to a certain someone. 

MC: ...there’s no need to tell the next part of the story. After all, the stories related to me have only begun. 

Victor pauses, but doesn’t follow up my words with a playful remark.

MC: ...Victor? 

Victor: What’s wrong? 

I shake my head, and when I open my mouth again, the name that has been lingering on the edge of my lips and weighing on my heart spills out involuntarily. 

MC: Victor.  

Victor: Mm, I’m here. 

He tacitly acquiesces to my almost naïvely foolish behavior, responding to my call of his name over and over again. It feels as though, if only I can keep confirming like this, the hole in my heart would be filled. 

MC: ...Victor. 

This time, he doesn’t speak. The silence forces me to stop. 

MC: [sobbing] I just want to know... what can I do to make you stay... [7] 

Victor sighs softly and beckons to me. 

I lean over and nestle in his frigid arms. 

As if he can no longer support the weight of his long, ink-black eyelashes, he casts his gaze downward. His nearly translucent skin appears as if it’s about to blend with the sunlight. 

Victor reaches out and touches my cheek, his finger pads caressing the contours of my face with utmost gentleness, as if sketching my features. 

His fingertips carry with them the chill of death, making me shiver involuntarily. 

Slowly and stiffly, I weave my words together, but the sentences that come out of my mouth are still shakily out of tune. 

MC: [teary-eyed x1] Victor, do you find it a little chilly? Maybe your cloak is too thin? 

MC: [x2] The fire is obviously burning so strongly, and the mead is also very warm... [8] 

MC: [x3] Look, there’s a kitten on the eaves over there. Isn’t it the one we met that day? 

MC: [x4] It looks so lively today. Seems like its frame of mind is as cheerful as ours. 

When I utter the last sentence, I hear his gentle sigh. 

At the same time, the laughter of playful children chasing each other, the chatter of young people, and the sighs of emotions of the elderly can be heard amidst the wind and snow. 

Victor: Hear that, the sounds outside. 

The sunlight seeps through the terrace, haloing and enveloping the surroundings with a layer of warm and bright haze. 

Bathed in that glow, my body’s consciousness returns little by little. I tightly clutch his hand, no longer shaking. 

MC: [x5] I can hear it. It’s almost New Year, and the streets are bustling and serene. 

Victor: The snowfall this year is promising. So, the harvest will be abundant next year. 

MC: [x6] Yes, people will become more affluent and happier. 

Victor: You will be a part of it all, too, and that’s really good. 

I bury myself in his chest, silently listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, one beat after another. 

The heartbeat in my ears, following its rapid pace, begins to grow increasingly feeble. A realization dawns on me, and I force myself to lift my head and look at him. 

He is akin to a wan rose, wilting before my desperate eyes that seek to make him stay, withering within my outstretched arms as I reach out to hold on. 

From limbs to blood, to the light in his eyes— bit by bit, the luster fades. 

My king entrusts the future of this country to me, and then he steps out of time, heading toward eternal peace. 

I gently incline my body, kissing his peacefully closed eyes. 

MC: ...good night. 

This time, I don’t receive any response from him, but the snowstorm suddenly ceases. 

The curtain of the evening has already descended, and the vermillion sun sinks below the horizon. The final ray of the splendid afterglow thaws the ice and snow of the land. 

MC: Victor, I will take you to witness the tomorrow of this kingdom. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[5] The exact phrase here actually was “冷风呜呜作响,” which literally means “the chilly breeze is producing a mournful sound”-- the “呜呜” used here is the onomatopoetic word for “sobbing/ wailing.” wanted to include this note as an example to gush about the brilliant atmospheric descriptions LZY writers use, e.g., the picture painted here echoes that even the nature is mourning at this slow, rather unfair, transition, mirroring the heroine’s and LZY’s pain of parting. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ 

[6] The expression used here is “依依不舍,” one of my favorite phrases and hated ones to translate LOL. You’d usually see this phrase being translated as “reluctant/unwilling,” but it doesn’t even come close to expressing the depth of its meaning. The phrase means “reluctance to part with sb you love/ being broken-hearted at having to leave,” with an underlying tone of “wanting to be with that person regardless,” -- and I tried to retain the OG meaning without being too wordy haha~ 

[7] Not sure how much of the sentiment I could make it come across in the translation—the term (留住) MC uses here literally means “ask sb to stay/ keep sb for the night/ ask them to wait.” the beauty of it lies in the fact that it expresses such a multitude of emotions— desperately wanting to keep sb in your life despite knowing it’s not up to either of you so you want to know if they can wait for you even though you know it’s not possible~ ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ   

[8] Mead (蜂蜜酒), also known as honey wine, is a type of alcoholic beverage made by fermenting honey mixed with water and other fruits. You can google it to know about it in detail if you want LOL.

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 

[dodgerkedavra]

first sentence patterns

rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! I was tagged by the illustrious @oknowkiss and so had to take a day to fangirl and perish and faint but let's put some SENTENCES. Also, I stole your formatting!

Perennial Blooms || drarry || 5k || E

A single, soft footfall lands on the floor near the entrance of the hospital wing, and Draco is instantly, fully awake. 

I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) || drarry || 15k || E

Draco didn’t come here to jump.

Yoga with Draco || drarry || wip || E

The doors of the lift open, and Harry’s plan to start fresh in the new year bumps into its first obstacle.

Get What You Knead || drarry || 7.5k || E

Harry peers through the window of his newly minted tattoo parlour, his heart beating fast, though not as hard as it was five minutes ago, when he first saw the ghost.

I Was Late (You Were Early) || drarry || 12k || E

Bright stars send pinpricks of light through pale clouds as Harry huffs and puffs his way up the final few steps. 

Speak Softly || drarry || wip || E

At half-ten on Wednesday morning, Potter declines to appear for their regularly scheduled snog.

Former Things Come to Mind || drarry || 65k || E

“Reparo.”

The Snowman || drarry || 3.5k || E

Draco wakes in a room filled with light and silence.

The Midnight Clear || drarry || wip || E

Diagon Alley on the first of December is the very picture of nostalgia. 

The Scent of Soft Rains || drarry || 20k || E

For a single moment in the middle of being burned alive by dragonfire, the heat so intense it feels freezing and the pain so vast it’s the size of the sky, Harry is relieved.

Come play @starquestingfordrarry @mallstars @moonmanatee and anyone else because I suddenly can't remember anyone's name!

[loquaciousquark]

A (late) state of the garden, part 1!

After a very terrible year thanks to frost, the perennials seem to be coming back with a vengeance. The encore azaleas in the front bloomed for what felt like ever, and the viburnum I planted last year seems to be overjoyed in its current location. I'm considering going back to get two more for the same place, since it's a little bare. (The red camellia I bought at the same time died hard over the winter, tragically.) The golden azalea Mom planted the year I moved in has also done well; after six years it's finally getting some real body to it!

The pink azaleas next to the house and my neighbor's massive Japanese privet both also had good years; I set up a patio table and chairs where the privet overflows my fence so I could sit out there some mornings with coffee and just bask in the smell.

Mom planted several heritage irises in the front a few years ago, and this year I got my first very purple bloom! Neither she nor I could remember what color they were, ahaha. Hoping for more blooms next year.

The confederate jasmine I planted last spring has done incredibly well and is trellising wildly over the fence. I planted a honeysuckle vine in the left corner next to it at the same time, but that thing looks worse than a weed & I'm considering tearing it out.

Finally, all four trees in the backyard are doing well. Two years ago, I sourced and planted two Shumard oaks myself, start to finish. They both did pretty badly & one had bad root girdling, so last year I asked a different company to come out (no way I was digging more of those holes myself, thanks), replace one of the oaks, move one of the current oaks to a different spot, and add a fresh oak & a magnolia in the back corner to eventually provide some privacy for my backyard neighbors. All four trees are doing great, even the relocated Shumard, and the magnolia even managed half a dozen blooms this year, which I completely forgot somehow that magnolias did and which literally made me shout when I first saw them. Here's hoping they put on some major height and body this summer!

[plantanarchy]

Late August garden 2023.

The front shade bed is full of volunteer lobelia in red and blue. The recent cool, wet weather has brought some of the summer annuals in those beds back to life.

The side bed I put in this year is all zinnias and cosmos and marigolds. The datura seedlings I dug out of my parents' old driveway will open their first blooms tonight. I need to weed badly. Next year, the perennials should be more established. My toilet planter has filled out and held up well.

My thunbergia has taken off wildly but not up the fence or arbor as intended. Mostly it creeps into the yard and side bed. Which is fine because it suppresses weeds very well. My autumn clematis is in bloom but has done a better job of climbing the fenceline. I'm considering moving the arbor to use it next year for pole beans in a new raised bed. The deer found my pole beans this year.

The tithonia I accidentally planted in my herb spiral has taken over and is now blooming. (it was a seedling with no leaves I thought was a zinnia). The rest of the in-ground part of that bed has yet to be expanded because everything I planted along that fenceline near there (raspberries, gooseberries, horseradish) has been showing some weird deficiences and I'd like to get a soil test.

[keithsandwich]

Asters Blooming

Pairing: Keith and Alter!Keith/OC (Maeve)

Word Count: ~1660

Tags: Pregnancy, Hurt/Comfort, Route Spoilers (just vaguely mentioned).

Notes: Written for Falling for You CCC, hosted by the amazing @nightghoul381 and @judejazza.

Prompt: I Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way

--- Hopefully, it'll be a part of a small series on Keith and Maeve parenting.

Ghoulie and my bestie without a Tumblr (Cosmic Latte) helped me a lot with this one. Thanks for the support, guys! I wouldn't be writing if it wasn't for you.

"Look, the asters are already blooming." Keith said with a smile, lightly tapping her waist to direct her attention toward the vibrant bushes dotted with purple and blue buds, resembling stars nestled amidst the leaves. While other flowers were starting to wither with the onset of fall, they were happily being born anew.

Maeve's lips curved into a sweet, albeit shy smile. Keith had hoped for more enthusiasm when he invited her to walk in the gardens. After all, these were their gardens, the very first project they had worked on together ever since she arrived at court, and it was growing beautifully. Keith had confessed to her that he'd never had any luck growing flowers, and she decided to show him that growing flowers wasn't a matter of luck; it was about care, about sensing those delicate plants' needs and nourishing them accordingly, no more, no less. He cherished every memory of them getting their hands dirty together and celebrating every bud that popped up from the soil. She would warn him when watering was enough and teach him how to truly connect with the earth.

Soon, the small garden plot Keith had prepared for them had become a perennial burst of colors, shapes, and fragrances. With Maeve's help, they had planned it so that various flowers would bloom throughout the seasons. It was a peaceful, ever-changing landscape that welcomed birds and bees.

Keith would never forget how adorable Maeve looked every time she sang to their flowers, claiming that music was good for them, and besides, they made for a good audience. His heart always warmed at how happy and radiant she seemed to be whenever they were there, and that's what he had hoped to achieve by bringing her to the gardens this morning. However, he was unsuccessful.

She had been acting strangely lately, as if something were bothering her, but Keith couldn't quite grasp what it might be. Not even he, with his natural talent for convincing her to open up, could break through her resolve. When Maeve was determined to keep her feelings to herself, her emotional barrier proved stronger than both of them combined, and it was undeniably frustrating. All Keith wished for was to see her happy and radiant once more.

Just that.

"Maeve," he stopped in his tracks, gently turning her to meet his gaze. She looked at him inquiringly before he took her hands and continued, "I… I understand if you don't want to talk, but I can't accept you being sad any longer. I need to… I have to know what I can do to make you happy again."

His fingers squeezed hers, and the overwhelming emotions became too much for him to maintain eye contact. Keith looked away, down at the colorful aster buds, hoping he wouldn't make them sad too. Because if Maeve was sad, it could only be his fault, right? He was the weed in their garden, the one who could only fail in trying to keep her satisfied and flourishing as she deserved.

When her voice finally sounded, barely louder than the morning's chilling breeze and the chirp of the birds, her words were so unexpected that he doubted his ears. "I'm pregnant," she murmured, and when his eyes searched for hers, they were still downcast and out of reach.

"You're…" Keith tried to confirm her words but couldn't quite repeat them. He would be too ashamed if he got her wrongly. Maeve... pregnant. Maeve was carrying their baby. A baby. They would have a baby together. He would be a father. All these disconnected thoughts coming together made his heart lurch and his stomach drop. He shuddered, unsure how to feel, especially when she seemed so down about the news. Maybe she... didn't want to have a baby with him.

The world around them felt like it was spinning, and Keith desperately tried to hold on and not to switch. Not right now. He needed to be there for her next words.

"I know it's too early, and we're not even married yet. Goodness, we haven't even properly talked about having children, and I..." Maeve shook her head, squeezing his hands with the same intensity. "I'm afraid it's too soon…"

"Too soon?" Granted, one could say things were already moving too quickly for them. Not many seasons have passed between meeting her in Néart and proposing to her in court. But there was nothing Keith would've done differently. Things wouldn't be any slower if he was marrying politically, and he and Maeve simply connected. They felt like one of the same, so all those fast-moving events felt just natural. None of it scared or overwhelmed him, on the contrary, her accepting and soothing presence only made him feel more confident than ever. Now, becoming a father was a completely new concept for him, and he was still trying to grasp it. His trembling hands moved to her waist, hesitant to get any closer to her belly. "Maeve, do you want to have a baby with me?"

Her green eyes widened, watery with emotions, and an awkward smile graced her lips, even if just a little. Maeve nodded. "I do! Of course, I do. There’s nothing I want more, but I… I don't know if you feel the same…"

"How could I not want to have a baby with you? You are the love of my life," Keith's face softened as he rested his forehead against hers, a silent gesture of closeness and support he wished she could understand. He still felt overwhelmed, his thoughts swirling like a whirlwind, but her presence was a comforting anchor amid his emotions.

"Aren't you scared?" Her doe-like eyes glistened in the soft morning glow that surrounded them.

Slowly, Keith’s fingers trailed towards the center of her stomach. The notion that their child was there kept sinking in, and so was the understanding that he would have to care for and protect the little one. It surely was scary, but the love they shared was stronger than this. Strong enough to sow its seed and grow into a new life in her womb.

And then he realized. It could be just like their garden. They could make that little, precious life thrive as beautifully as their flowers.

"I am scared…" his lips curled up in an honest reaction, despite his words. Maeve gasped in surprise when Keith fell to his knees in front of her, grabbing the sides of her body and placing a light, careful kiss on her belly. "But I am so happy, Maeve… This will be the first flower of our love, and just like we made this garden possible, I know I can raise a child if I'm with you."

Keith felt his eyes getting wet, but not like hers. Maeve was already tearful, he could understand if she got even more now, and he wanted to be there every time she cried like she did when she got on her knees just so she could hold his face and kiss him. Again, and again. Soft, sweet, and loving kisses, as happy tears streamed down her face. Well, he knew whenever he couldn't be there for her, he would.

And it made him feel less anxious about being a father. He definitely wouldn't do it alone.

"We're doing this together! Oh, Keith… We're having a baby…"

He closed his eyes and let her sweet voice guide him to the forest of his mind. Not that he didn't want to be with her. There was nothing he wanted more, and this was making him greedy. But he knew he had to let him celebrate the news too.

He would never forgive him if he didn't.

.

.

.

"Silly girl, what were ya so scared of?"

Being there felt incredible. The surprised look in her beautiful, moist green eyes never ceased to amaze him. Keith didn't hesitate before kissing her, the kiss more intense than before, as he wanted to savor all the emotions from her. Gently, he laid her down on the ground while they continued to kiss, and his hand moved to her lower belly. There, lay the proof of his existence. No matter who had conceived that child, he would be equally their father, and they would carry his memory.

When their lips parted, giving room to a smile infinitely more tender than he was used to, Keith allowed himself to become lost in her gaze for a moment. Maeve released a contented, yet bashful sigh, intertwining her fingers with his.

Keith chuckled. He knew what she was worried about. What happened to him definitely made him doubt himself and his ability to protect someone. "He would have insecurities and fears no matter when ya got pregnant, but I am here to take care of him, of you, and of our baby," he leaned in to kiss her cheek, still wet and salty with tears. "Aren't ya the one who taught us that Mother Nature has her own time? We can only revere it, and be thankful she's giving us a child."

"Don't you think it's too soon? We've already been moving so fast, and having a child is such a big step. I... I'm afraid it's too overwhelming, especially for him," she bit her lips, mirroring his insecurity. They were so alike.

Maeve squeezed his hand in hers and against her belly. "Wouldn't you want it to happen in a better time?"

"There's no better time, Maeve. I wouldn't want it any other way. We're having a baby, and this is the most wonderful thing."

He saw a beautiful smile lightening up her face before kissing her lips again. This was what Keith wanted the most — the woman he loved, carrying his child and being radiant about it.

The peaceful sounds of the birds and the fresh smell of earth, grass and flowers mixed with the rosemary of her hair in that soothing scenario never felt so thrilling.

[ryanscabinlife]

I have been swamped these past couple of days outside and it's been extremely invigorating! Here are garden updates and some of the things I'm currently working on

First is the garlic! it's looking fantastic, they're just about 2 feet now and some are starting to get really thick.

Yesterday I planted my tomatoes. I specifically did not even bother starting seed for these guys, coz first of all we don't really have the indoor space, and also we had such great luck last year so we just repeated what we did. We just bought some from our local garden centre. Last year, we had 6 roma tomatoes (our favourite tomato variety) and it fed us throughout the summer and we've even managed to can over a dozen mason jars that we enjoyed in the winter. This year I have 30 of them! Last year, we had 2 cherry tomatoes, this year we planted 6.

Since our property is not big enough to have a well, the garden is 100% being watered by rainwater that we collect. Unfortunately for us, it's been a bit dry lately, hoping for more rain in June. Due to this circumstance, I decided to mulch what I could, in the hope that it will contain the moisture in the ground.

Shawn claimed a corner to turn into a place to relax and read books and god knows what. I will leave that to him but I was tasked to create a border to kinda separate it from the rest of the garden. I want to use some logs, terracotta pots, and other recycled things in our yard. So far this is what a have :(. I have been checking Facebook Marketplace every day for big planters but so far no luck. What's up with people wanting $100 for stuff that they don't want anyway?

I direct seeded a ton of things in the long beds where the trellis structure is including the snow pea I started indoors just a couple of weeks ago

Most of the potatoes are out! I've never grown potatoes before so this is a little too exciting for me

It turns out we have an apple tree and she is blooming! I don't exactly know what she is, my guess is some sort of crabapple. I'm so glad I didn't let Shawn chop her when we were building

And finally, the big project that's keeping me busy. My 42 feet border. This is the part where I don't know what I am doing. I've never planted ornamental flower beds before so it's kinda scaring me. Most of the things planted in this bed are perennials and few annuals on the front. I also broadcasted wildflowers all over. I'm really hoping for a cottage garden look for this one. Can't wait to see it in the summer when it's all filled up (hopefully)

25-May-2023

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Sunday 21 July 2024

Here a range of Lobelia erinus (trailing lobelia) cultivars are providing a variety of coloured flowers to brighten these containers. This trailing, tender perennial normally has blue blooms and is grown as an annual, with spreading stems, tiny leaves and masses of small flowers from late spring until autumn.

Jill Raggett

[rabbitenn]

UTOPIA.

It’s his day, and because of you, it will become an even happier memory that he can’t wait to relive year after year.

ft. Isumi Haruka x gn! reader.

cw/genre: pure fluff.

Happy birthday, Haruka ! He’s grown on me and he’s grown so much himself <3 Something brief and sweet to celebrate this baby’s special day (I know it’s a bit late, but it’s still the 6th for me).

Snow capped buildings greet his morning, akin to the glazing on top of the sugary snacks he so adored.

Eyes of molten acacia blooms look at the world before them for another year, powdery flakes drifting past his bedroom’s window.

Long lashes flutter closed once again, a crescent brighter than the one that’s already hidden behind the horizon, forming on his lips.

Smiles like this one used to be the norm for him years ago, having become with time more rare and all the more precious to those who got to receive them.

He knows you’d tease him, if you had witnessed how smitten he looked at midnight reading your text message.

For all the years he’s known you, you had never failed to make his special day a little brighter with just a few words on a screen.

Happy birthday, Haru ! 🎂💕 Can’t wait to celebrate with you in a few hours, I love you sm <3

Your message is imprinted in rosy shades in the softest part of his mind, as he relishes a few more minutes in the warmth of his bunny patterned covers.

Then, soft knocks are heard on his bedroom door, followed by his grandmother’s voice:

“Haruka, dearie, there’s someone here that’s come to see you! And I’m making a cake for you, it’s your special day.”

With a serene expression, betrayed by the stars in his stare and the unavoidable smile his lips curl up in, ZOOL’s center gets out of bed, rushing to get dressed in his favorite clothes (in truth, it’s just the outfit you always complimented). His fingers close around the necklace you gave him last year, as he stops for a second before the mirror, carefully clasping it.

The sweet scent of meringue and jam greets Haruka before he steps into the kitchen.

His pace quickens, curious to see what his grandmother is working on.

Before he can take a peek, however, warm hands cover his eyes.

“Who’s this?” A familiar voice sing-songs, next to his ear.

A giggle escapes him, a rare treasure that showed only in the right place at he right time, on counted occasions.

“[Y/n]!” He calls, at the same time you uncover his eyes, offering him a cheeky grin. “Dummy…” He pouts.

“Oh, you love it.” You tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Haruka.” You hold his hands in yours gently, as you lean in again, this time, kissing him properly on the lips.

Your warm presence wraps around him in just one single kiss, a spring breeze at the doors of winter, guiding him to the few still green perennial trees, where birds still sing.

And he kisses you back with just as much care, the fresh taste of chocolate mint chip on a lover’s lips; the lingering spicy sweetness of ginger cookies.

This instant, with just the two of you, the scent of baking cake, and the brightness of a winter morning, is your own idyll, a utopia only possible when it’s the two of you.

When you part, remnants of this handmade dream still float around the two of you, like the first plum blossoms to drift by after the snow.

Haruka looks at you, the sunshine that left his gaze so many years ago, now glimmering truly, just for you.

He’d like to kiss you again.

However, it seems the cake is ready.

Well, he already knows what to wish for before the candles go out.